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Escape:
By Markus Thyme:
Previous episodes are in The Master’s Hand archive.
On the day following Maliki’s arrest, the insurrection
was precipitated by an event so trivial it would have gone unnoticed if the
scale had not already been grossly overbalanced. A Palace guard shot and killed
a tourist with a camera thinking it might be a gun. It was the classic case of
shoot first and investigate later. The liberationists had been waiting and
watching for just such an event. They were ready. Word went out quickly. The
commoners were incited to riot and they complied. They took to the streets.
Everywhere they poured out, however, there were organized key Liberationist
leaders guiding actions and shouting suggestions.
The first act of violence was by a huge mob of commoners who
stormed the Palace Prison, smashing in doors and murdering everyone they found
in a uniform. A few guards were able to flee and save their lives. Most were
slain where they were found. It their enthusiasm the rioters opened all of the
cells and the captives poured into the streets. All were release, pickpockets,
and murders, along with political prisoners. There was no discrimination.
Maliki was released along with the rest. He recognized what
was happening and realized this was a full-scale insurrection. He slipped
quickly away thanking his good fortune. He knew, had he been recognized, he
would have been executed as an Imperialist. Either way, he would be killed. The
Emperor wanted him for bringing bad news. The Liberationist wanted him as a
member of the imperial elite. He made his way quickly to the spaceport, hoping
to escape in the Prince’s Yacht, but the mob had preceded him. They were
destroying all things Imperial. The yacht was in flames. Maliki hid in a
warehouse until the mob rushed away to another place of interest.
When he came out and checked, he found, to his surprise that
an old freighter had been spared. It sat at the edge of the space port,
undamaged. Maliki entered the ship and found it apparently in working order. He
ran the test systems to be sure. It was old, but still space-worthy. Maliki was
about to lift off when other thoughts came to him. Where would he go? He would
go to Fovea, of course.
That caused him to think of Fovea’s family. As
supporters of the Imperialists, they would be targeted by the insurrection.
When darkness fell, he made his way through the streets and
found his way to Fovea’s home. He was too late. The place was in flames.
Fovea’s mate was hanging from a tree in the yard. He was about to leave,
when he heard a whining from beneath a bush. Beneath the bush, he found a ten
year old boy and a small Zork. It was the Zork that had whined and given away
the hiding place.
“Come out child,” said Maliki softly.
“They are gone. They are gone.”
The boy came trembling out from beneath the bush looking
with large eyes at his mother, hanging in the tree. Maliki led him swiftly
away. Then he took a chance. He went to another home a few yards away. The
place was dark. He tapped on the door and got no answer. He decided on a bold
move.
“I know you are in there,” he said. “The
mob is gone. I have this boy who escaped them. He is your neighbor. You must
help him.”
Maliki stood and waited, then he saw a shade move. He
continued to wait. Finally the door opened a crack.
“What do you want?” demanded a whispered voice.
“I want you to care for this boy. They murdered his
mother. His father is Fovea. He is Parsecs away from here. You must take the
boy.”
“You take him.”
“I will take him to his father if I can,”
answered Maliki.
“Who are you?”
“Look at me and you will know.”
“By Alloh, you are Maliki!”
“I am. I am in great danger. If you are a member of
the military or police, you are in danger too.”
“I am the mate of Dalmar, Fovea’s second in
command.”
“Then you had best come with me.”
“Why? What is going on?”
“I believe you know. Now it is time to face it. There
is an insurrection and everything imperial or associated with imperial will
probably be destroyed. Many will be murdered ere a week has passed. With luck,
I can take you to your mate.”
“How?” she demanded.
“There is a ship at the spaceport. The mobs destroyed
all but that one, but it can take us out of here.”
The woman thought for just a moment.
“I will come with you,” she said. “Can you
also take my sister? She too has mate on the Battleship Fallujah.”
“There is more than enough space. In
fact…”
A plan was beginning to form in Maliki’s mind.
“How many others do you know of?” he queried.
“Others?”
“Officers and men of the Imperial navy. Mates of
officers and men of the Fallujah.”
“I know many officers. Not so many of the men, but
some.”
“Come with me now to the spaceship,” said
Maliki. “Perhaps we can save many, but we must act with haste.”
So it was that Maliki waited at the spaceport, while others
got the word out and the frightened officers, men, and families of the imperialist
gathered. The mobs were out of control. The Liberationist who though they could
control the mob as though driving a ground car realized they had been fools.
The situation had been exacerbated when the military brass decided to support
the Imperialists. They ordered the troops into action against the insurrection.
That backfired when many deserted their posts rather than fight their fellow
Calanians. They burned their uniforms to avoid being identified with the
Imperialists. Still many were murdered by the mobs. Many had richly earned what
they got, but many had not. They were simply government workers doing their
jobs.
There was a great deal of bad news. Many of those Maliki had
hoped to save were already dead. They had been butcher and many others were
being hunted and hounded. Half of the city was in flames. No one was safe. Even
a suspicion of imperial ties was reason for murder. There was also some not bad
news. The Emperor had been beheaded on the front plaza of the palace in sight
of a huge lustily cheering crowd. When it was done, a bunch of particularly
angry rioters played kickball with the severed head until it turned to mush.
Maliki got another surprise. After he had gather all of the people he could find and loaded as many supplies as he could find, one new person showed up. It was the manager of the Emperor’s harem. When the riots had begun, he had taken the women through some secret palace tunnels to a safe house nearby. Then he somehow found out about Maliki’s plans and showed up. These were really innocent women who had been sold to the Emperor by their fathers to curry political favor. Maliki knew, if this man had found out, too many people would be finding out. So without questioning too much about it, he got the harem on board, got everyone else on board, and lifted off.
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