"2565-73" - читать интересную книгу автора (Warlady 1 - 2565 Ad Book 2)2565 A.D.! A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Book Two Chapter Thirty "Will you be able to land this?" Jon asked, staring down at Trella there spreading out before us, the harbor filled with ships of various sizes and types. I would have to make a water landing this time. The plane's handling was not improved by so much weight on one side, the punctured wing tank having drained itself during the flight. The ballistae bolt still yet piercing the wing speaking of the victory of 26th Century technology over that of the 20th! I found it all rather "embarrassing" although Jon had not tried to "rub it in" as he might have done. I had been too confident, too proud of Black Lady to recognize the dan- ger. It had been a mighty "close call" for one Queen Lorraine! "Shouldn't be any problem," I assured him, telling him to sit as far over to the right as possible, An'na doing the same to better balance us. I hoped the pontoons were alright. Otherwise we'd be fishing the plane out of the "drink" again if I couldn't make shore in time! The Squala there at anchor below a comfort. "You said that when we took off," Jon reminded me, a grim smile there on his handsome features as I turned in reply to give him a reassuring smile. No doubt he would have preferred to have a deck there beneath his feet. Feel something solid beneath him! "I'm sure Lorraine can land us safely," An'na assured him. So far as I could tell we hadn't suffered any serious damage from the pirates' firing at us, although it was quite obvious that my airplane had suffered damage from the "primitive" technology of the 26th Century! It had been quite a blow to my "ego" too! I came down alongside an anchored galley, one of those 36's the Empire uses a lot, the Trelandarian flag flying from its flagstaff there in back. I saw men run, point, thought of what they must have thought. It was, I thought to myself, just the sort of a thing that Sanda would love. Having the Queen of Tre- landar come in for a landing in her capital city in an airplane! "I see it, but I don't believe it!" Sanda Talen said to me, her eyes glowing with pleasure into mine. Jon delighted to have the solid dock there beneath his feet once again. Guards holding back the crowds that were gathering as fast as men could run to this spot to see "Lorraine's airplane". No one saying anything about there being a ballistae javelin sticking out of the wing! "We located the pirates that took the Ronda," I told her. An'na standing there looking at everything. She was clad in the common costume of a woman of Mars. Her sort were almost as feared as the Lorr they served and equally hated by most people! "And now you plan to avenge the death of your step- daughter?" Sanda asked, her eyes glowing into mine. I supposed she muchly preferred it that way. With Sharon dead. Then there would be no possibility of a successor to Darlanis at least until the Imperial Senate could decide who was to take her position! "And that of my mother," An'na spoke in icy tones. I saw the look on Sanda's face as she realized just who An'na was! That she was indeed the true daughter of Empress Darlanis. That she was the legal successor to her mother. That the Empire was in fact hers to rule should she wish to take over as she might! I was also very much aware of the "power" that An'na had over Raspa! It would be one thing to fight Imperial warriors from Sarn, another entirely to come up against some Lorr battle-disc! "Dammit, not after all this!" Sanda snapped, her hand going to the hilt of her sword in her anger. She was tired, exhausted no doubt from all she had been through. Finding another daughter of Darlanis was perhaps only the "final straw"! I don't think I really needed to stop her. Sanda is a sensible woman. She knew better than to draw a sword against someone armed with a blaster! "Easy, Sanda," I spoke, taking her by the arms. I saw the tears in her eyes. Saw the "fear" there that the Revolution she had worked so hard for might all be taken away from her by An'na! "I'm sorry," Sanda answered in a soft voice, regarding An'na as she stood there silently, the breeze ruffling her golden hair. In profile she does remind you considerably of Darlanis, although their facial features are not all that similar, Sharon in some respects looking more like Darlanis than does her own daughter! "I have no interest in your `politics'," An'na spoke in lev- el tones. "As none of you govern without our permission." There was in her voice the hint of infinite power, of the sort of power that made me realize just who really "ruled" the Earth! Raspa!!! "We were so close!" Sanda sobbed, the tears rolling down her cheeks, her eye make-up running as I took her in my arms, held her close. Telling her that everything would be all right in the end. I had no way of knowing what An'na thought of things. She viewed me with some affection, although should she wish to re- build her mother's Empire, there would be nothing we could do about it if Raspa allowed An'na to use Lorr technology. A few dozen men armed with Lorr blaster rifles could defeat an army. The Starfire itself carried enough destructive power to perhaps depopulate all of California! We were as helpless as the Nean- derthals had been when the Lorr descended from the sky over fifty thousand years ago to take their young women as serving slaves! "Sarnian Lady," Sanda said to me as we stood before it, the crew and its officers now under guard. I had done what I could for Sanda. I did not believe that An'na had any interest in re- building Darlanis' Empire of California. Her interests laid in different fields. In the worlds and their satellites that cir- cled the Sun. In the comets and other objects that entered our solar system from time to time. She was an astronaut, not a war- rioress. I doubted if she really cared much one way or another what happened here on Earth. We were now just a "backwater". A bunch of barbarians that had to be "watched over". Nothing more. "Want to come with me?" I asked Sanda, stepping to the lad- der that led up to the deck as it laid there in dry-dock. Sanda nodding, following as I climbed to those decks that had once been so familiar to me. Where there were still yet so many memories! "This was all hers," I said as Sanda stood there beside me. I saw the luxury, the fine paintings there on the walls. Darla- nis had been a woman who loved such things. She had been, I mused to myself, a woman of "taste". The closets yet contained her clothing, the golden mesh attire she had once worn. It was like her ghost still lived here. I felt as if I was an intruder. "I will have it sold, the money given to the poor," Sanda snapped back, her eyes hard, filled with hatred for the memory of Darlanis. What she had stood for. Sanda was wearing a black leather skirt, a lovely red silken blouse. A sword at her hip. Boots on her feet. She looked and was a very competent woman. I had no reason to doubt that she had once been a high born Lady. "There is a possibility that she still lives," I said. Jon had believed it possible, saying that Darlanis was worth at least three hundred gold crowns if delivered alive to the Emperor of Mexico, who would have kept her as a preferred slave girl! That is a lot of money here in the 26th Century. Far more than the hundred thousand dollars in 20th Century terms that it calculates out to. Three hundred gold crowns having the purchasing power that a quarter of a million dollars would have had in 1988 A.D.! "And you would return her to all this?" Sanda spoke, her tones icy cold. She knew how I felt about Darlanis. About Shar- on who was legally now Darlanis' successor to the throne of the Empire of California. That "dream" Darlanis had once spoken of. "Not under the terms she once knew," I answered. I saw the relief go flooding across Sanda's attractive features as she nodded in reply. The "Revolution" we had begun in Trelandar could spread to Sarn, perhaps even to Baja and Orgon. Perhaps someday even to distant Dularn. I was after all the woman who many believed to be "the second Janet Rogers". Even the Nevadas remembered her! The "Janet Rogers" of legend. The "Golden Age of Man" that I knew was but a legend. The truth had been much different. She had been an idealist. At best a "benevolent" ab- solute dictator! One thing the world didn't need was another of her sort. We'd probably be better off with Raspa ruling us! No emotions, able to see beyond our lies, our delusions to the truth as it existed. The Lorr had a stable, non-violent social order. "I have hated her all these years, hated her for killing my sister as she did. I still remember her eyes, her arrogant smile as I held my sister's dying body in my arms, the blood running from her mouth as she gasped and choked on her own life-blood," Sanda spoke, her eyes seeing another scene, another time. Queen Darlanis having thrust her blade through Paula's chest, which is not an instantaneous death although the wound is of course fatal. "It was a fair duel?" I asked. Darlanis had been a "Queen of Swords". It had been a foolish act on Queen Paula's part, al- though she herself was well known for her own skill with a blade. Both Queens had been of the Warrioresses. Dueling is common among those of the caste. Sanda was a Scribe, not a Warrioress. "`According' to your own Caste Codes, yes," Sanda snapped back, standing there. I picked up a little statue, regarded it. Darlanis had been a woman of "taste". Cultured, civilized by the standards of the 26th Century. Well educated, knowledgeable. She had done her part to raise the standards of civilization here in the 26th Century. She had reminded me somewhat of Janet Rog- ers. Both had been "idealists". Both had also "meant well". I wondered if I would really do much better than Darlanis had done? "Why didn't you become a Warrioress instead of a Scribe?" I asked Sanda, setting down the little statue. It was of a little girl. I suspected that same girl, now grown, stood outside in the sunlight. Anna Marden, the new crown Princess of California! "My sister was a good example of the foolishness you of the black castes have," Sanda snapped back. "Your foolish codes that get you killed." She paused then, seeing my eyes. I am of the Warrioresses. I am proud of my caste even if we sometimes do not act as wisely as we should. I suspected that her son had become a Warrior against her wishes. There had no doubt been considera- ble conflict in her marriage to Carl Talen, who was of the Warri- ors. He had no doubt wished his foster son to wear the caste mark. To someday take his place there in the world. One always wishes to see one's children do well. I recalled that I had once discussed such things with Darlanis about a month and a half ago. "I suggest that we change the subject," I spoke in level tones. Sanda was a dear friend. I had no desire to get into an argument with her over such matters that to both of us carried a heavy emotional charge. "We still face a common enemy," I added. The "Revolution" wasn't yet assured. The fact that we had been "victorious" in part of Trelandar did not mean that the rest of the country would fall into step behind us. There was also the Imperial Senate. The Imperial Legions perhaps already on the march. I wondered if Sharon still lived. Jon had considered it a good possibility. That would also "color" things considerably. "You may be putting your life in Lorraine's hands if you come with us," Jon teased Sanda as she seated herself beside him. Black Lady rocking a bit as everyone shifted themselves for the trip back to my estates. Now that we knew where the pirates were, I had every intention of attacking with the Janis. It would be a nasty fight, Jon had warned, but I was determined to see it through. I would pack the Janis with my best fighters. I thought it would be enough. They would be fighting for their new Queen. For a worthwhile cause. I did not consider the dangers I would be facing. The fact that I might die in battle and leave the problems we faced to Sanda and Jon to sort out as best they could. I would make the proper "arrangements" Warrioresses make. "I do trust her," Sanda smiled, "But I will pray to Lys too." Sanda was an intelligent woman. She "hedged her bets"! 2565 A.D.! A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Book Two Chapter Thirty "Will you be able to land this?" Jon asked, staring down at Trella there spreading out before us, the harbor filled with ships of various sizes and types. I would have to make a water landing this time. The plane's handling was not improved by so much weight on one side, the punctured wing tank having drained itself during the flight. The ballistae bolt still yet piercing the wing speaking of the victory of 26th Century technology over that of the 20th! I found it all rather "embarrassing" although Jon had not tried to "rub it in" as he might have done. I had been too confident, too proud of Black Lady to recognize the dan- ger. It had been a mighty "close call" for one Queen Lorraine! "Shouldn't be any problem," I assured him, telling him to sit as far over to the right as possible, An'na doing the same to better balance us. I hoped the pontoons were alright. Otherwise we'd be fishing the plane out of the "drink" again if I couldn't make shore in time! The Squala there at anchor below a comfort. "You said that when we took off," Jon reminded me, a grim smile there on his handsome features as I turned in reply to give him a reassuring smile. No doubt he would have preferred to have a deck there beneath his feet. Feel something solid beneath him! "I'm sure Lorraine can land us safely," An'na assured him. So far as I could tell we hadn't suffered any serious damage from the pirates' firing at us, although it was quite obvious that my airplane had suffered damage from the "primitive" technology of the 26th Century! It had been quite a blow to my "ego" too! I came down alongside an anchored galley, one of those 36's the Empire uses a lot, the Trelandarian flag flying from its flagstaff there in back. I saw men run, point, thought of what they must have thought. It was, I thought to myself, just the sort of a thing that Sanda would love. Having the Queen of Tre- landar come in for a landing in her capital city in an airplane! "I see it, but I don't believe it!" Sanda Talen said to me, her eyes glowing with pleasure into mine. Jon delighted to have the solid dock there beneath his feet once again. Guards holding back the crowds that were gathering as fast as men could run to this spot to see "Lorraine's airplane". No one saying anything about there being a ballistae javelin sticking out of the wing! "We located the pirates that took the Ronda," I told her. An'na standing there looking at everything. She was clad in the common costume of a woman of Mars. Her sort were almost as feared as the Lorr they served and equally hated by most people! "And now you plan to avenge the death of your step- daughter?" Sanda asked, her eyes glowing into mine. I supposed she muchly preferred it that way. With Sharon dead. Then there would be no possibility of a successor to Darlanis at least until the Imperial Senate could decide who was to take her position! "And that of my mother," An'na spoke in icy tones. I saw the look on Sanda's face as she realized just who An'na was! That she was indeed the true daughter of Empress Darlanis. That she was the legal successor to her mother. That the Empire was in fact hers to rule should she wish to take over as she might! I was also very much aware of the "power" that An'na had over Raspa! It would be one thing to fight Imperial warriors from Sarn, another entirely to come up against some Lorr battle-disc! "Dammit, not after all this!" Sanda snapped, her hand going to the hilt of her sword in her anger. She was tired, exhausted no doubt from all she had been through. Finding another daughter of Darlanis was perhaps only the "final straw"! I don't think I really needed to stop her. Sanda is a sensible woman. She knew better than to draw a sword against someone armed with a blaster! "Easy, Sanda," I spoke, taking her by the arms. I saw the tears in her eyes. Saw the "fear" there that the Revolution she had worked so hard for might all be taken away from her by An'na! "I'm sorry," Sanda answered in a soft voice, regarding An'na as she stood there silently, the breeze ruffling her golden hair. In profile she does remind you considerably of Darlanis, although their facial features are not all that similar, Sharon in some respects looking more like Darlanis than does her own daughter! "I have no interest in your `politics'," An'na spoke in lev- el tones. "As none of you govern without our permission." There was in her voice the hint of infinite power, of the sort of power that made me realize just who really "ruled" the Earth! Raspa!!! "We were so close!" Sanda sobbed, the tears rolling down her cheeks, her eye make-up running as I took her in my arms, held her close. Telling her that everything would be all right in the end. I had no way of knowing what An'na thought of things. She viewed me with some affection, although should she wish to re- build her mother's Empire, there would be nothing we could do about it if Raspa allowed An'na to use Lorr technology. A few dozen men armed with Lorr blaster rifles could defeat an army. The Starfire itself carried enough destructive power to perhaps depopulate all of California! We were as helpless as the Nean- derthals had been when the Lorr descended from the sky over fifty thousand years ago to take their young women as serving slaves! "Sarnian Lady," Sanda said to me as we stood before it, the crew and its officers now under guard. I had done what I could for Sanda. I did not believe that An'na had any interest in re- building Darlanis' Empire of California. Her interests laid in different fields. In the worlds and their satellites that cir- cled the Sun. In the comets and other objects that entered our solar system from time to time. She was an astronaut, not a war- rioress. I doubted if she really cared much one way or another what happened here on Earth. We were now just a "backwater". A bunch of barbarians that had to be "watched over". Nothing more. "Want to come with me?" I asked Sanda, stepping to the lad- der that led up to the deck as it laid there in dry-dock. Sanda nodding, following as I climbed to those decks that had once been so familiar to me. Where there were still yet so many memories! "This was all hers," I said as Sanda stood there beside me. I saw the luxury, the fine paintings there on the walls. Darla- nis had been a woman who loved such things. She had been, I mused to myself, a woman of "taste". The closets yet contained her clothing, the golden mesh attire she had once worn. It was like her ghost still lived here. I felt as if I was an intruder. "I will have it sold, the money given to the poor," Sanda snapped back, her eyes hard, filled with hatred for the memory of Darlanis. What she had stood for. Sanda was wearing a black leather skirt, a lovely red silken blouse. A sword at her hip. Boots on her feet. She looked and was a very competent woman. I had no reason to doubt that she had once been a high born Lady. "There is a possibility that she still lives," I said. Jon had believed it possible, saying that Darlanis was worth at least three hundred gold crowns if delivered alive to the Emperor of Mexico, who would have kept her as a preferred slave girl! That is a lot of money here in the 26th Century. Far more than the hundred thousand dollars in 20th Century terms that it calculates out to. Three hundred gold crowns having the purchasing power that a quarter of a million dollars would have had in 1988 A.D.! "And you would return her to all this?" Sanda spoke, her tones icy cold. She knew how I felt about Darlanis. About Shar- on who was legally now Darlanis' successor to the throne of the Empire of California. That "dream" Darlanis had once spoken of. "Not under the terms she once knew," I answered. I saw the relief go flooding across Sanda's attractive features as she nodded in reply. The "Revolution" we had begun in Trelandar could spread to Sarn, perhaps even to Baja and Orgon. Perhaps someday even to distant Dularn. I was after all the woman who many believed to be "the second Janet Rogers". Even the Nevadas remembered her! The "Janet Rogers" of legend. The "Golden Age of Man" that I knew was but a legend. The truth had been much different. She had been an idealist. At best a "benevolent" ab- solute dictator! One thing the world didn't need was another of her sort. We'd probably be better off with Raspa ruling us! No emotions, able to see beyond our lies, our delusions to the truth as it existed. The Lorr had a stable, non-violent social order. "I have hated her all these years, hated her for killing my sister as she did. I still remember her eyes, her arrogant smile as I held my sister's dying body in my arms, the blood running from her mouth as she gasped and choked on her own life-blood," Sanda spoke, her eyes seeing another scene, another time. Queen Darlanis having thrust her blade through Paula's chest, which is not an instantaneous death although the wound is of course fatal. "It was a fair duel?" I asked. Darlanis had been a "Queen of Swords". It had been a foolish act on Queen Paula's part, al- though she herself was well known for her own skill with a blade. Both Queens had been of the Warrioresses. Dueling is common among those of the caste. Sanda was a Scribe, not a Warrioress. "`According' to your own Caste Codes, yes," Sanda snapped back, standing there. I picked up a little statue, regarded it. Darlanis had been a woman of "taste". Cultured, civilized by the standards of the 26th Century. Well educated, knowledgeable. She had done her part to raise the standards of civilization here in the 26th Century. She had reminded me somewhat of Janet Rog- ers. Both had been "idealists". Both had also "meant well". I wondered if I would really do much better than Darlanis had done? "Why didn't you become a Warrioress instead of a Scribe?" I asked Sanda, setting down the little statue. It was of a little girl. I suspected that same girl, now grown, stood outside in the sunlight. Anna Marden, the new crown Princess of California! "My sister was a good example of the foolishness you of the black castes have," Sanda snapped back. "Your foolish codes that get you killed." She paused then, seeing my eyes. I am of the Warrioresses. I am proud of my caste even if we sometimes do not act as wisely as we should. I suspected that her son had become a Warrior against her wishes. There had no doubt been considera- ble conflict in her marriage to Carl Talen, who was of the Warri- ors. He had no doubt wished his foster son to wear the caste mark. To someday take his place there in the world. One always wishes to see one's children do well. I recalled that I had once discussed such things with Darlanis about a month and a half ago. "I suggest that we change the subject," I spoke in level tones. Sanda was a dear friend. I had no desire to get into an argument with her over such matters that to both of us carried a heavy emotional charge. "We still face a common enemy," I added. The "Revolution" wasn't yet assured. The fact that we had been "victorious" in part of Trelandar did not mean that the rest of the country would fall into step behind us. There was also the Imperial Senate. The Imperial Legions perhaps already on the march. I wondered if Sharon still lived. Jon had considered it a good possibility. That would also "color" things considerably. "You may be putting your life in Lorraine's hands if you come with us," Jon teased Sanda as she seated herself beside him. Black Lady rocking a bit as everyone shifted themselves for the trip back to my estates. Now that we knew where the pirates were, I had every intention of attacking with the Janis. It would be a nasty fight, Jon had warned, but I was determined to see it through. I would pack the Janis with my best fighters. I thought it would be enough. They would be fighting for their new Queen. For a worthwhile cause. I did not consider the dangers I would be facing. The fact that I might die in battle and leave the problems we faced to Sanda and Jon to sort out as best they could. I would make the proper "arrangements" Warrioresses make. "I do trust her," Sanda smiled, "But I will pray to Lys too." Sanda was an intelligent woman. She "hedged her bets"! |
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