Tarizon, The Liberator, Tarizon Trilogy Vol 1

17

  Friends and Allies

  Peter’s eyes wouldn’t close. He tossed and turned trying to get comfortable so he could get some desperately needed sleep, but to no avail. His insomnia was not just due to his fear that Videl Lai may know of his arrival on Pogo Island, but for many other reasons as well. He was excited about the discovery of his telepathic abilities. He couldn't get over the fact that he could communicate with someone without opening his mouth. Then there was the arrival of dawn and the commencement of basic training. There was a lot of pressure on him not just to do well, but to do exceedingly well. He wondered if that were possible. Then, of course, there was Luci. Not a day, or even an hour, went by without him thinking of her. If he could have just called her; but Sergeant Baig told them during orientation that they could not communicate with the outside world during boot camp—no letters, telephone calls, or electronic communications of any sort. They were expected to devote every waking hour to completing their training without any distractions.

  At the first crack of daylight the morning alarm sounded. There were moans from many of the candidates around Peter dreading the new day. They were called candidates now rather than recruits—candidates for admission into the elite group of officers of the TGA. Since Peter hadn't slept, he was up instantly making his bunk. He noticed Tam was still asleep, so he grabbed his leg and shook him.

  "Get up! Didn't you hear the alarm? You don't want to get into trouble on the first day."

  Tam rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Peter shook him again until he raised his head and gave him a dirty look.

  "Wake up. If Sgt. Baig catches you asleep you'll be in serious trouble."

  Tam rolled over, dropped one leg off the side of the bed and yawned. "Okay. Okay, I'm getting up."

  At that instant, Sgt. Baig emerged from his quarters and yelled, "Aaatent. . .tion!" He strolled down the center of the barracks looking at each candidate. When he came across a candidate still asleep, he kicked the bunk hard nearly knocking the candidate onto the floor. The startled candidate grabbed the side of the bed to keep from falling off. He looked up at Sgt. Baig, his mouth half open. Sgt. Baig asked him his name. He replied, "Lattie Burrows."

  "Do you have a hearing problem, Mr. Burrows?"

  "No, Sergeant," Burrows replied.

  "Then what were you doing sleeping when you're supposed to be standing by your bunk?"

  "Ah . . . Well . . .Sorry—"

  "Sorry means nothing when you're in combat," Sergeant screamed. "You'll do extra PT tonight after everyone else is finished."

  Burrows lowered his head and nodded, "Yes, Sergeant."

  Baig continued down the row of bunks until he came to Tam's. He looked at the unmade bunk and Tam's disheveled appearance. "What's your name candidate?" Sgt. Baig asked.

  "Tamurus Lavendar, Sergeant," Tam replied.

  "Well, it looks like you had a problem waking up as well," the Sergeant said, and then yanked Tam's mattress onto the floor nearly beheading Tam in the process. "Now, when I dismiss the squad here in a tik you better get this mess cleaned up, and you'll be keeping Mr. Burrows company tonight when he does his extra PT."

  Tam rolled his eyes and frowned. Sergeant Baig's eyes widened. He moved in on Tam until their faces were nearly touching. "Do you have a problem with that Mr. Lavendar?"

  "No, Sergeant! Not at all."

  "Good, because candidates who have problems with my orders won't be in this squad very long."

  Sergeant Baig finished his inspection and dismissed the squad for breakfast. Tam stayed in the barracks to clean up the mess Sergeant Baig had left him. After breakfast they were transported to the quartermaster where they were issued their uniforms and boots. When they had secured their gear in the barracks, they went to their first class. It was on weaponry and was held in a crowded room in the armory. Their instructor, a stout muscular man with a red complexion, was Lt. Kreig Londry. He talked in a deep deliberate voice that reminded Peter of Marlon Brando. First he showed them a standard issue pistol.

  "This is the C34 pistol. It is a semiautomatic, magazine fed, recoil operated, double action pistol with a smart heat-seeking ball. It's magazine holds fifteen rounds and if your aim is a little off, the ball will veer toward the heat of your target. It's also good when you don't have a straight shot. You simply shoot as close to your target as possible and if the ball detects a heat pattern it will veer towards it. Now this doesn't mean you don't have to be a good shot, the C34 will only veer up to 18%, but it will give you an edge over the enemy."

  Next he picked up a rifle and said, "This is the R6, the standard issue rifle for the TGA. Lightweight, durable, and always dependable, the R6 can fire either semi-automatic (single-shot) or 6-round bursts. It also can fire heat-seeking balls. Become proficient with the R6. It is your most versatile weapon, able to engage targets at long range and in close-quarters. As a general rule, select single-shot mode when attacking at long range. However, when you are going to be up close, such as in urban operations, switch to burst mode."

  Lt. Londry set the R6 down and picked up another rifle and held it up. "This is the T7. It's a modular light rifle weapon system that delivers a coherent, directed lethal laser beam over a range in excess of 300 strides against visible targets. The T7 provides a total integrated weapons system, including high energy density power source, laser medium resonator and focusing system. It weighs approximately the same as the R6 and is capable of delivering a maximum rate of fire of approximately five lethal laser bursts per tik. Differing from other individual small arms, the T7 does not employ ammunition in the conventional sense, relying upon the thermal energy provided by a D33 power source. The T7 may be fielded for continuous tactical use for a period of over 60 days which gives it an obvious advantage over the R6."

  Lt. Londry put down the T7 and continued, "Now this afternoon each of you will be issued a C34 pistol and either a R6 rifle or T7 laser rifle. You will be instructed in the proper use, handling, and care of these weapons. Over the course of your training you will become proficient in their use. These three weapons are the ones you will be using most often in your combat operations, but there are many more weapons that you will be trained to use in the course of your time here at Pogo Island."

  Lt. Londry dismissed them to go to Physical Training or PT as the sergeant called it. PT started in a huge aircraft hanger where they changed into workout clothes and waited for Sergeant Baig to direct their activities. When he arrived he took them through some warmup exercises and then led them out the door for a long run through the base. Not being in such great shape, Peter began to lag after only the first mile. Fortunately, there were a few in worse shape than he who got the brunt of the sergeant's wrath that afternoon. Sy and Red were in better shape than Peter and ran ahead of him. Although Tam didn't seem to mind the running and probably could have stayed up at the front of the pack, he hung back with Peter partly to keep him company but also to watch out for him. He was taking his job as the Liberator's protector seriously. When the sergeant finally turned and headed back in the general direction of the hanger, Peter was glad because he was exhausted and couldn't have gone much farther.

  After dinner they broke up into three groups and three instructors from the armory taught them how to take apart and reassemble the C34 pistol, the R6 rifle, and the T7 laser gun. Then they were issued manuals to study that night before lights went out. When their instruction period was over Tam and Lattie Burrows were told to report for extra PT. Peter felt badly for Tam and Lattie and thanked God it wasn't him. The day had been so grueling, he couldn't imagine doing anything other than collapsing into his bunk and going to sleep.

  Just before the evening alarm, Tam and Lattie returned from their extra time with Sergeant Baig. Lattie looked pale and was limping. Tam looked angry. When Peter saw them he rushed over. "So, what did he make you do?"

  "I don't want to talk about it," Tam said. "I just want to sleep."

  Tam fell into his bunk and closed his eyes. P
eter turned to Lottie and said, "Tell me what happened."

  Lattie shrugged. "He just lectured us on the importance of following orders. You know—soldiers die when orders are ignored or disregarded. Then he made us do every exercise imaginable until we were so tired we could hardly move."

  "I know. You've been gone for a long time. I can't believe he kept you so long."

  Before Peter could get more details out of Lattie, the night alarm went off and everyone scrambled to get into bed.

  The next morning Lattie and Tam were up before the alarm went off and they had their bunks made long before Sergeant Baig showed up for roll call. They had obviously learned an important lesson—not to cross Sergeant Baig.

  The next day all the candidates were issued their weapons and they were urged to continue working on how to take them apart, clean, and reassemble them quickly. Within a few days they were out on the shooting range firing them at target robots. Each day PT got a little more vigorous as their endurance increased and Sergeant Baig pushed them a little harder. Although they were only getting half the sleep they’d been used to, Peter felt strong and fit—better than he could ever remember.

  At the end of their third phase there were tests and field exams scheduled. These were important because anyone who didn't pass them would be kicked out of the program and sent to the Isle of Muhl. The commandant had mentioned Muhl as not being somewhere they wanted to end up, but he hadn't elaborated. Since that time there had been much speculation about what went on at the TGA Training Facility on the Isle of Muhl, but nobody knew for sure until the matter came up during a weapons class. Lt. Londry was explaining to them how they would be tested on the T7 laser gun.

  "Remember, always keep the safety mechanism engaged when you are using the T7. This is a very powerful and lethal weapon. If it accidentally goes off it will probably kill someone—and there's a fifty-fifty chance that someone will be you. If you forget to engage the safety after your test is completed you'll be severely penalized. If your other tests scores are just average, this penalty could throw you below an acceptable level and mean you'd soon be on you way to the Isle of Muhl."

  Tam raised his hand. "Lieutenant."

  Lt. Londry nodded to Tam.

  "The commandant also mentioned the Isle of Muhl. I was just wondering about it. How is it different than here?"

  The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed. "You haven't heard about Pegaport on the Isle of Muhl?"

  They all shook their heads.

  "Hmm. Well, we don't have much time, but I'll give you the short version.

  "My experience on Muhl came by accident. I was here at Pogo teaching my weapons class as usual. The candidates were just about to graduate and go to their permanent assignments and I was scheduled for a holiday. Unfortunately, about this time there was word of an accident at Pegaport. One of the drill sergeants had been killed by a candidate who mishandled a T7 laser gun. The commandant was outraged and humiliated by the accident and in the course of an investigation it was determined the weapon's instructor was to blame.

  "Just about that time I was set to be transported to Dalo where I was planning to lie on the beach next to my mate for 14 days, I got orders to report to Pegaport. The next morning I found myself in the most horrid hell hole you could imagine. The island had been ravaged a few phases earlier by a hurricane and most of the buildings and training facilities were in shambles. I soon learned that Pegaport was where they sent all of the misfits, troublemakers, derelicts, mutants, and washed out candidates."

  A sigh of despair went through the ranks of candidates listening intently to Lt. Londry's words. He continued, "The drill sergeants at Pegaport are tough and mean. They have to be to keep their recruits in line. Most recruits who graduate will be foot soldiers so they have to be in top physical condition. A special emphasis is put on PT. Long morning runs, rigorous weight training, and strict discipline is the norm. Those who can't maintain the pace or follow the rigid rules end up in Hell Squad.

  The candidates squirmed in their chairs and exchanged glances. Lt. Londry's eyes narrowed. "Hell Squad is where the accident took place. I say accident but many believe it was murder. You see in Hell Squad recruits have to be treated differently. They have to be given special motivation to break their independent spirit. There is no room for independent thinkers—second guessers—in the TGA. Orders must be carried out quickly and precisely as given—command thinks, soldiers obey.

  "Motivation is dished out in a number of interesting ways in Hell Squad—stick therapy, food or sleep deprivation, buzz gun motivation, or, if all else fails, electric implants. Stick therapy is pretty simple. The drill sergeant carries around a long white stick made of a hard rubber. When he strikes you with it, it'll hurt as much as a 8 ft. whip, and has been known to cause permanent scaring. It's used across a candidate's arm or back if he's not cooperating.

  Peter looked at Red who looked pale and ready to puke.

  "Food or sleep deprivation is employed in cases where candidates have a high pain tolerance, or actually enjoy pain. It's pretty self-explanatory. Meals and hours of sleep are taken away for bad behavior. Recruits who need food and sleep tend to become much more cooperative. But even that is not enough for some.

  "The buzz gun is harmless but very painful. Ten times the pain of the stick. Electric implants allow the drill sergeant to impose pain from a distance for substandard performance or disobedience.

  Peter swallowed hard.

  "It was in Hell Squad that the sergeant was killed, or murdered, if you want my opinion. His name was Sergeant Zolt Hovic. He'd just led his unit on a grueling march through the swamp lands on the north part of the island. One of his recruits was a mutant who had a short attention span and often wandered off from the rest of the squad. The sergeant had an implant put in his back so whenever he seemed distracted or wandered off, he could give him a little jolt. It was very effective; however, it upset the rest of the squad. One of the recruits, a mutant from Shisk, named Threebeard, was particularly offended by the use of the electric implants and complained to the Commandant that use of the device was cruel and inhumane. The Commandant rejected the complaint and told Threebeard he'd have one put in his back if he bothered him again with his petty complaints.

  "Some say Threebeard was behind the killing of Sergeant Hovic, but luckily for him he had an irrefutable alibi—he was some distance away when the accident occurred."

  The reference to Threebeard got Peter's attention. He thought about Lt. Londry's story. He obviously didn't know about Threebeard's telekinetic abilities. Threebeard didn't have to be close to the T7 laser to make it discharge. Peter chuckled to himself. The Sergeant had gotten what he deserved and the Commandant totally underestimated Threebeard. Now Peter understood how Threebeard had come to be the leader of the mutants. He wondered if he could learn anything else from the Lieutenant. Peter hadn’t tried to read someone’s mind yet but he figured he had to start sometime. Not knowing exactly how the process worked, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. Then he positioned himself so he had an unobstructed view of the Lieutenant.

  While Lt. Londry was winding up his story, Peter gave him a hard look and when their eyes met, he tried to look through them. Nothing happened so he tried again, this time concentrating hard on what he wanted to know, but all he got was a headache. On the third attempt Peter tried to imagine waves flowing between his mind and the Lieutenant’s. Peter felt a dull pain in his head and noticed Lt. Londry looking alarmed and rubbing his temples. A name popped into Peter’s head. The name of the Commandant responsible for the abuse and torture of TGA recruits on the Isle of Muhl was none other than Videl Lai.

  Peter knew then how the Vice-chancellor had acquired his military connections. He'd apparently served for some time in the military before he entered into politics. No doubt the generals, who were expected to support him in his efforts to wrest control of the government away from its elected officials, were old cronies from his military service. There was no t
elling what rewards he had promised them for their support.

  At dinner that night the upcoming exams and Lt. Londry's story of his short stay at Pegaport on the Isle of Muhl were the hot topics. If Lt. Londry's intention was to put the fear of God into the squad he had certainly done so. Although Peter didn't want to wash out, he felt fairly certain if he did, he himself wouldn't end up on the Isle of Muhl. Surely, he thought, the Councillor would pull him out of the TGA and bring him back to Shisk. At any rate, thoughts of washing out were ridiculous. He was the Liberator, for the sake of Sandee, and wouldn't be at the bottom of the class, but at the top, surely.

  As was their routine, Tam, Sy, Red, and Peter sat at their usual table in the nutrition center. They had become good friends and had made an oath to watch each others backs during boot camp. Videl Lai was on Peter's mind when they sat down at their usual table out of view of the several video cameras that kept an eye on the candidates during their meals.

  "Guess who was the commandant at Pegaport when Lt. Londry was there," he said.

  "Who?" Red asked.

  "The Vice-Chancellor—Videl Lai himself."

  Sy squinted and replied, "How do you know that?"

  He shrugged. "I read Lt. Londry’s mind. Not very well, I am afraid, but I did manage to get that information. . . I also know who murdered Sergeant Hovic." He told them about his encounter with Threebeard and then continued, "He's telekinetic, so I'm sure he caused the laser to fire and kill Sergeant Hovic. Pretty slick, huh?"

  “I’m surprised they let a three-headed mutant into the TGA,” Red commented.

  “There are a lot of Mutants in the TGA, but none are allowed to be officers. As long as your mutation doesn’t affect your ability to fight, they don’t care what it is.”

  “What if we get assigned to one of the Vice-Chancellor's divisions?" Red asked.

  "Don't worry about that," Peter said. "I'll make sure you get assigned to one loyal to the Supreme Mandate."

  "How will you do that?" Red asked.

  Tam looked at Peter and said, "We should tell them."

  Peter took a deep breath and then nodded.

  Tam told them of the Prophecy and Peter filled them in on his connection to Councillor Garcia. It was a gamble, but he had gotten to know them pretty well over the past few weeks and was sure they would be on his side.

  Red shook his head and said, "Wow. So, you're the Liberator?"

  "Some people think so," Peter replied. "Although, I don't claim the title. I didn't get a vision or talk to God or anything like that. I don't even know the name of the prophet who is responsible for predicting my arrival. It could be just somebody's joke."

  "He is the Liberator," Tam said enthusiastically, "Without a doubt. Threebeard thought so and announced his coming. . . and he walks with a rhutz. I tell you, Leek is the Liberator."

  "So, are you asking for our help?" Red asked.

  Peter replied, "Yes, I need all the help I can get. We must fulfill the Prophecy and save Tarizon and Earth."

  "Earth?" Sy asked.

  "Yes, my planet is at risk as well. Lai has always favored colonizing Earth. If he is successful here, he will then make war on Earth and rule both worlds. With Tarizon's advanced technology and weaponry, the governments on Earth will be at a tremendous disadvantage.”

  "Count me in," Red said.

  Sy nodded, "And me as well."

  Tam smiled and added, "I was on board before we even met."

  Peter laughed. "Good, then. Now all we have to do is get by our field tests and written exams. I don't want our first mission to be rescuing one of us from Pegaport."