THE PLANET THAT LOVED PEOPLE (standard:science fiction, 2156 words) [8/18] show all parts
Author: Danny Raven	Added: Mar 04 2016	Views/Reads: 1806/1395	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
PART 1 - CH 7

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

modifications but everything should be ready in a few days.” 

“Security?” 

“Satisfactory.” 

“It should be,” Tyler said, smiling arrogantly, “I organised it myself.”
He glanced through the window at the sleeping woman. “When will she be 
back on her feet?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Fine. Keep me informed of her progress. I want regular reports. Deliver
them to me personally and discuss this with no-one. Understand?” 

“As you wish.” 

Tyler nodded curtly at him and strolled off down the corridor. Through
tired eyes the Surgeon General watched him go then crumpled his cap 
into a tight ball and threw it after him. 

“Bastard!” he said softly. 

If Tyler had heard, he'd probably have taken it as a compliment but he'd
already dismissed the Surgeon General and the woman from his mind as he 
strolled along. Their part in his plan had been taken care of and now 
there was something else he wanted to check. 

He was headed for a small room in a remote part of Fleet Head Quarters
whose location was known only to himself. Security on the room was 
elaborate and not even a member of The Inner Council could have found 
it or entered. 

To reach it, he walked through a maze of corridors until he came to a
short one that seemed to be a dead-end. Making certain no-one was 
around he pressed a tiny transmitter in his pocket and the wall at the 
end of the corridor slid aside, revealing a small lift. 

He entered quickly and the lift door slid shut. On the rear wall was a
small square metal grille. He leaned close and spoke one word into it 
and the lift, which responded only to his voice pattern, began silently 
and quickly to descend. 

When it halted the door slid open and he walked along a very short
corridor to the secret room. Next to the door, a camera had been set 
into the wall. Tyler leaned close to it and stared directly into it 
then waited. His retina print had to be received before the door was 
unlocked and a few seconds later there was a click then the door slid 
open. 

Tyler stepped into the small, windowless room and the door slid shut
behind him. He strolled over and sat down at a long worktop. 

An array of communications equipment had been set up along the worktop
and on the wall. First there was a computer which had already been 
linked to the computer on the Falcon the prisoners would use. Although 
Tyler had the co-ordinates for the Corridor in the Black Hole, they 
wouldn't be fed into the Ship's computer until later. 

Next to it was a powerful transmitter through which he could communicate
with the Bridge of the Falcon. Since he had guaranteed The Inner 
Council absolute immunity from the mission he would be the only one in 
contact with the prisoners, no-one else from the Fleet being involved. 

An inter-com had been set up next to the transmitter. This provided a
direct link with Fleet Control Room in case he had to contact them 
quickly for any reason. 

After the inter-com was a section of small wall screens which would show
events filmed from hidden cameras all over the Ship. This way he could 
monitor what the prisoners were up to without them being aware of it. 
He flicked one of the screens on and it came to life showing some 
technicians still working on the Bridge. He watched them for a few 
moments then flicked it off. 

Next to the bank of wall screens was a large monitor on the worktop and
this was the one that interested him most. It was going to be extremely 
amusing what this would show him during the forthcoming weeks and he 
smiled in anticipation. There would be nothing on it at present but he 
switched it on anyway. The screen flickered then settled but the 
picture remained black. He turned up the volume but there were only 
faint breathing sounds. Satisfied that it was working and not having 
expected anything this early, he switched it off. 

He lit one of his thin black cigars and smiled as he thought of the
computer expert and the master-builder who'd set up the equipment, the 
room and the lift. The men had worked hard during the project and had 
been rewarded with early retirement. Both of their widows were 
receiving reasonable pensions. 

He leaned back in his chair and laughed. Everything was progressing
nicely. Very nicely. All loose ends had been taken care of and all 
future loose ends would be promptly dealt with. 

He swung his immaculate leather boots up on to the worktop, jetted out
some cigar smoke and watched it drift up to the ceiling where it was 
sucked out by small air scrubbers. Yes, things were progressing very 
nicely and regardless of how it eventually turned out, he couldn't 
lose. If the Sirene scum were wiped out during the mission it wouldn't 
really matter – he would still be in command of the Fleet and the buck 
would be passed back to those ageing fools on The Inner Council. 

On the other hand if the mission was successful, if they discovered what
was through the Corridor...well, the possibilities were endless. The 
fact that he alone had engineered the mission should at least guarantee 
him becoming the new Fleet Marshal. From there it was just a short step 
to The Inner Council and he would become one of the four most powerful 
men in the known Universe. And from there? 

Or what if this Corridor led to a whole new Universe? What fabulous
untold wealth might it hold? And since the prisoners would be ‘retired' 
once the mission was completed, he alone would possess the Corridor 
co-ordinates. The Inner Council would pay highly for the information, 
that is, if he decided to give it. 

He sighed contentedly and flicked some ash from his thin black cigar.
Yes, things were coming along nicely. He settled himself more 
comfortably into his padded leather chair, drew lazily on his cigar and 
luxuriated in what his new future could bring. What made it all the 
more satisfying and what brought another arrogant smile to his face was 
that the man who hated him most in the known Universe, Frank Kane, 
could be the one who delivered everything to him on a plate! 

Kane was sitting on the flat boulder on the hill. It was getting on
towards evening, two days after the Falcon had left. In front of him 
the valley rolled away wide and empty to a distant range of ugly black 
mountains. In the darkening sky above them a rare early star caught his 
eye and he gazed at it a while then looked back down the valley. 

So it was all fixed. Five nights from tonight the Falcon would be
returning to pick them up. He'd been straight with the others, made it 
clear that their chances of making it back alive were slim, especially 
since Tyler was behind it all but they still wanted to go. Christ he 
couldn't blame them, not when the alternative was rotting here. He 
looked round at the place and shook his head. It seemed even bleaker 
and more desolate as darkness fell. 

Jesus, what a crew it was going to be – Muslik, Miller, Sinto, Corthan,
Blaze and himself. Blaze was too young for something like this and he'd 
argued against taking him but Tyler had been insistent because of his 
dematerializing ability. 

Muslik was okay and so was Corthan. He grinned in the half-light,
remembering what Corthan could do. Miller was a bit on the jumpy side 
and he'd have to keep away from all drugs but he made up for it with 
his incredible engineering skill around the Ship. Sinto was 
unpredictable and wild but as Tyler had said, the man was a born 
killer, ideal for what they might encounter. 

Six of them. To go where? To do what? The stories about Chameleon and
silicon were just a smokescreen for the other prisoners and Tyler had 
given nothing away about their true mission. All he'd said was he 
needed a crew in a hurry, they would find out why later. Which meant 
either it was too dirty for the Fleet to be involved or else they'd 
already tried and got burned. 

So why pick them? That one was easy – if they got burned it was no big
deal and if they succeeded there was a chance they would probably wind 
up dead, knowing how Tyler operated. 

So why go then? Because however small the odds at least they had a
slight chance of making it, if they stayed here they had none. It was 
as simple as that. 

He glanced back up the valley towards the mountains but the light was
going and they were blurred in the darkness. Corthan was out there in 
the wilds beyond them somewhere. He'd sent Blaze for him and they 
should be back in a day or so. Nothing to do now but wait. 

With the coming night the cold was creeping in and he could feel rain in
the wind that blew up the valley. He slid down off the boulder, walked 
across the hill and started down the zigzagging path. 


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