“Hello!” The shout came from somewhere in the group of advance soldiers, probably from the commanding officer. “Come forward and be recognized!”
“Everyone, stay down!” Adela admonished under her breath. Then, to the amazement of the others, she stirred fitfully, as if injured, and rose to a sitting position.
“Doctor!”
“Dammit, Billy, stay down. I know what I’m doing.”
The advancing men fell to crouching positions as she rose.
“You! I want to see hands in the air! Now!”
She raised her hands and came up on her feet slowly, shakily, keeping up the pretense of being injured. As she stood, she made certain she’d be able to tumble sideways and grab the pulse rifle if she had to, but made a deliberate effort of giving the appearance of being unarmed and helpless. The advancing force halted well outside the apron of the station, half of them training their weapons on her, the rest—apparently on orders of their commander—aiming at the seemingly inert forms scattered on the ground around her.
“Don’t shoot!” Adela pleaded. She did her best to add an edge of fear to her voice but admitted inwardly that the effort wasn’t difficult. “I’m unarmed!” She ambled forward, taking each step as slowly as she thought she could get away with. She remembered something she’d seen in a video and approached with her hands clasped behind her head. She even stumbled once, purposely, dropping to her knees and milking everything she could from her “performance” as she moved toward the waiting Eastlanders.
Someone barked an order and two of the soldiers leaped from their attack positions and trotted in her direction. One of them, a woman no taller than herself, held a pulse rifle leveled at her chest as the other checked her for weapons. As they did, she heard another barked order that sent a second pair of soldiers forward to cover those lying on the ground.
Adela feined confusion as they questioned and searched her for weapons. They were rough with her and at one point during their frisking inadvertently knocked her down. Still on the ground, Adela raised herself up in time to see Billy Woorunmarra jump to his feet and pull the boomerang from his belt in one smooth motion. There was an instantaneous rattling sound as eight pulse rifles came to bear on him.
“Billy, no! I’m all right!”
He froze in place, his arm already pulled back to throw, as one of the soldiers took the boomerang away. The man handled the unfamiliar weapon gingerly, as if it might explode at any moment, and quickly gave it to one of the others of lower rank. The unlucky recipient looked no happier to be holding it than he had.
The rest of the Eastland soldiers jumped suddenly to their feet and came up to surround the two of them, half the company training their weapons on her and Billy, the rest on those lying on the apron.
With the guns holding them motionless, the commanding officer came forward. He was armored to match his company, unlike the Westland practice of distinctive armor arranged by rank. Then again, perhaps he had come into command in much the same way Sergeant Janners had, and there had not been time to receive the new gear befitting his rank. His eyes darted from her to Billy and back again, the look on his face clearly displaying his uneasiness at the presence of the two obvious off-worlders standing before him. He carried a pulse rifle identical to the others and used the barrel of the weapon to prod her as he asked, more than a hint of nervousness in his voice, “Who are you?”
“I am Dr. Adela de Montgarde, appointed representative of Javas, Emperor of the Hundred Worlds.” She paused, then added slowly, deliberately, “And mother of the Crown Prince, Eric.” She caught the expression of surprised shock on Woorunmarra’s face out of the corner of one eye. “My companion is Lieutenant Billy Woorunmarra of the Imperial starship Levant. And you are… ?”
The young man, already stressed at his closeness to an unexpected and unwelcome combat situation, turned ashen. The nearest of his troops likewise became increasingly ill at ease by the turn of events. What should have been a routine bombing raid seemed about to erupt into an Imperial incident.
He stared at them for what seemed several minutes before finally coming to a decision. “Corporal Tiverst,” he barked at last to the man nearest him, “take three men and check the shelter.”
“Sir!” The man nodded to three of the others and the group trotted over the rise, weapons at the ready. The officer said nothing, waiting until he received a shouted all-clear from the Corporal. Waving the men back down, he spoke to yet another of the soldiers, the woman who had originally come forward to cover Adela. “Take the Westies to the hopper and keep them under guard.” All but two of the Eastland soldiers rounded up the remainder of Janners’ unit and walked them toward the hopper, waiting where it had landed a half kilometer away.
“And you are… ?” Adela asked again.
He stood straighter, nodding his head at them. “I am Lieutenant Len Elian of the Eastland Guard.” He motioned to the two remaining soldiers, and they came forward, their weapons still trained steadily, if uncertainly, on them. “Doctor, Lieutenant, I’m going to ask you to come with me, but I assure you that you will not be harmed in any way.”
“Where are you taking us?” Woorunmarra asked.
“I haven’t the authority to deal with you,” he admitted, “so I’m taking you back to divisional headquarters.”
“They won’t take kindly to our being kidnapped.” Adela pointed skyward, indicating the orbiting ship.
The words startled him. “You aren’t being kidnapped, you’re being taken as prisoners of war.” He thumbed the safety on his pulse rifle as he turned away, his back already to them when the soldiers prodded her and Billy with the rifles to start moving toward the hopper.
With everything happening so quickly Adela had almost forgotten about the heat, but the full force of the sun beat down on them now as they made their way to the hopper. She stumbled once about halfway to the hopper, tripping on the exposed root of one of the barrel trees, and caused the cut on her head to start bleeding slightly again.
Woorunmarra helped her to her feet and steadied her by the arm, saying, “Doctor, are you all right?” Before she could answer, he pulled her arm forcibly to the side, making it look as though she were having trouble walking. She didn’t know what he had in mind but kept her mouth shut, following his lead. They walked on, staring straight ahead. After several more meters, he squeezed her arm slightly and nodded at the hopper. The last of the prisoners had entered the craft, the soldier bringing up the rear disappearing inside afterward.
So that’s what he’s been waiting for, she thought, and continued walking as if it were getting increasingly difficult. After a few more steps he pulled at her arm again and both of them tumbled to the ground. Billy pushed her to the side, well clear of where he’d fallen, while at the same time rolling in the opposite direction. He twisted gracefully to a crouching position, whipping his arm back. One of the soldiers fell forward as a stone hit him directly between his eyes. Another blur of his arm and the second man went down near the first, groaning heavily and clasping both hands to his forehead.