Star of Hope Read online

  ‘You can’t blame Steadie for that.’

  His eyes blazed at me. ‘Ah can blame whoever ah like.’ He took a step towards me, his finger jabbed my chest. ‘And what about you? The great Privileged hope.’ His face was right in my mug. His breath rank with years of decay. ‘Get it sorted, Sorlie. Now get out o my way. Ah’m goin tae spend some time wi Reinya before ah leave.’

  Ishbel

  Ishbel loved this bleak landscape she now knew so well. The treeless wasteland scoured by the fierce winds and relentless rain had washed the weariness from her soul. She wanted to roam free on the hillside and take a small sailing boat out to the bay to harvest some precious fish. But she knew this wish was futile. Tomorrow she would leave to whatever her fate would bring her but she knew the memory of the place would remain with her and she would return.

  As Ishbel made her way back to the control centre she heard rich laughter coming from the boathouse that sat back from the quay. She saw Huxton back out, his arms full of some booty. His laughter caught her unawares. He was normally so solemn. Which she was glad of. It was one of the reasons she’d appointed him her right hand man after she’d taken control. Also he was the most chemically stable.

  She had learned that when the Black Rock prisoners had first arrived on Freedom, some had been ill with chemical withdrawal, in the same manner as Scud. But many had been immune to the DNA dilution they had been subjected to while on Black Rock. Perhaps this was due to a higher concentration of Privileged genes in their original make up. These men had stature and confidence. Many had been freedom fighters after the Purist purge until their eventual incarceration.

  One such prisoner was Huxton, a tall thin man, with premature grey hair and of undiscernible age. He had a permanent look of concern on his face which Ishbel had always suspected hid his true nature. She had observed that men did what he wanted before he even asked. Ask him if he wanted a cup of brew and he would answer with a look that might be interpreted as telling you, ‘yes a brew is acceptable but please beware, it might be poisoned’.

  After her arrival at Freedom Ishbel had walked among the men as an invisible woman until she donned her Blue Pearl Commander uniform, so different from the ragged second-hand one of Vanora’s army. Vanora’s army was no more since The Prince’s Blue Pearl marched in, took control and organised operations to their standards. Ishbel touched the fabric of recycled fibre and remembered Vanora’s smirk the first time she saw Ishbel in her new uniform.

  ‘Green. Just your colour,’ Vanora had quipped.

  ‘That’s kind of you, although it is the same colour as domestic natives.’

  ‘Well you can thank The Prince for that.’

  When Huxton first saw her as Commander, he’d looked almost relieved and had readily agreed to assist her. She’d heard rumblings of unrest around the base. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  Upon her appointment The Prince had advised Freedom to watch all news reports coming out of The State news agency, as if this was something Ishbel hadn’t already thought of. She had set one operator with the sole job of monitoring all new incidents where insurgents’ attacks took place and then ranking them as fake news or genuine based on footage matching.

  She knew she’d done a good job at the control centre but the flutter of excitement she felt in her belly when the latest instruction came through awoke her inner desire.

  Ishbel was to assemble a team of men and send them on a mission. Men, she thought, always men. But she knew why. All the escaped prisoners from Black Rock were men. If she wanted an army of women she would need to orchestrate another prison break in another sector where only women were held. But there were fewer female political prisoners because The State still held the archaic belief that women were not worth bothering about.

  She’d read through the plans for Freedom. She organised the rota of work that needed to be done around Freedom and she’d looked forward to the long dark months of quarter four and the tedium that went with it. She knew there were a few prisoners who were good leaders, good organisers. But she knew she could lead this mission. When she confided in Huxton that she was taking charge of the mission, he shrugged.

  ‘I don’t blame you.’

  ‘Will you stay and take command here?’ This was a request not an order.

  ‘I’d rather not. See, I’ve been stuck in prison for ten years. Sometimes this island feels like a prison too. I want to be free of Freedom. I’d rather come.’

  ‘OK, then you pick the men we take. You know them better than me.’

  Ishbel considered her available options and chose a man who looked like a toad to manage the control centre. His name was Henny and his eyes nearly popped from his head when she asked him to take charge.

  ‘Vanora will try to interfere,’ she’d told him. ‘If she does, don’t try to fight her. Let her have her way for a while, then reverse everything she does. Her engineers know the score. They won’t let her do much harm.’

  He swallowed hard. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said, resisting the urge to give him a reassuring pat.

  ‘OK,’ was the short reply delivered to her shoulder, his eyes shifting everywhere but to her face. He certainly wasn’t the most confident cracker in the box but was the best of the bunch.

  Before final preparations began she visited the dentist and had her suicide pill reinstated. Another bone she had to pick with Dawdle. Even though his ripping her last pill out her mouth had probably saved her life, she still resented his interference.

  Ishbel faced the coming storm and let the rain scour her face before pulling her snood over her head. Tomorrow they would leave and when they did she’d instruct the harbourmaster to extinguish all but the lighthouse lamp.

  Sorlie

  ‘Grow up, Sorlie,’ Scud said, creeping up behind me as I was leaving Pa’s tent after taking him some grub.

  ‘I thought you’d gone.’ I don’t know why Scud had turned all aggressive. His face, normally peely wally, was blotched with spots of rage.

  ‘Ah’ve one more thing tae say tae you before ah go.’ He stood with hands clenched. This wee wily man who’d been my native on Black Rock, had risked his life for me and all natives, now stood as if to knock my lights out. He’d had his DNA diluted, but that had been stabilised. Apparently some souterrain community knew how to do that. Was this aggression a side effect?

  ‘Ah’ve watched you wi your Pa. All you see is a cripple.’

  ‘Not true.’

  He took a step towards me, invading my space as natives sometimes do.

  ‘Aye, true. Ah see you watch him move, put a hand out tae catch him, steady, even when Dougie didn’t need help. Every time you’re near him your expression fills with horror lines.’

  I could feel my face pink at his words. He wasn’t finished.

  ‘Your generation grew up in a world cleansed of disability. The fact Steadie is filled wi specials seems tae have bypassed your notice. Shows your Privileged disregard for what is unimportant tae you.’

  ‘That’s a lie.’ It was my turn to step into his space but he stood his ground.

  ‘This is personal. Your Pa was once the strong Military leader, now he’s a broken man that a young girl has been tasked tae fix.’ A small bead of spittle formed at his mouth. ‘Don’t you see?’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘The cut o his jaw when you’re near him. Are you blind tae it? Too many times ah’ve had tae walk away because ah can’t bear tae watch father and son play the part in this gruesome charade. He’s your Pa for snaf sake. Have you forgotten what he is capable of?’

  ‘I think you need to calm down, Scud. Too much has happened to you. Why don’t you stay here a while longer. Harkin will make you a tonic.’ He punched me in the mouth. My head snapped back and I tasted iron. I grabbed him round the neck and threw him to the ground then sat on him. His breath laboured, his eyes stared at me. />
  ‘What’s wrong with you, Scud?’ Tears sprang in his eyes. He gritted his teeth.

  ‘Get off me.’

  I released my grip. A group of specials gathered round, showing curious frowns but silent. Harkin grabbed my shoulder.

  ‘Get off him.’

  ‘He punched me.’ I said but did as she bid.

  ‘You probably deserved it.’

  Scud rolled onto his knees and twisted his head to watch me rise. ‘Just grow up Sorlie and get this sorted.’ He struggled to his feet and hunched into Pa’s tent.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ I asked Harkin.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ She shook her head. ‘Incarcerated for years, betrayed by Vanora, finding a granddaughter then losing her child. Is it any wonder he is mad at you?’

  ‘It’s not my fault.’

  ‘You and your kind.’ And she left me to follow Scud into the tent of a Privileged who was also one of my kind. Why don’t they blame him too?

  When I thought back to our return from Black Rock the signs of Scud’s unrest were there all along. Dawdle’s sub, Peedle, coughed and spluttered all the way to Steadie and each time it stopped Scud scuttled into a corner and wrapped himself in a blanket. I had to stop myself scratching my wrists with the worry of what we might find back at Steadie, but that was nothing compared to the worry on Scud’s brow.

  ‘How do you think Pa’ll be when we get there?’ I’d asked Scud. He shrugged but stayed quiet.

  ‘The note Pa left in the cave was a deliberate clue to his whereabouts. He must have known I’d have come after him.’

  ‘Dougie’s a lot craftier than he looks,’ Scud had said. What the snaf did that mean?

  Dawdle had been intent on his driving but his usual good humour was missing. Was it his touching parting from Ishbel that dampened his spirit? It was such a shame he was so wired for profit he couldn’t see what he was letting slip from his grasp.

  ‘Ah’ve met his type before,’ Scud had said nodding towards Dawdle. Scud watched him with suspicious eyes from the corner. ‘Driven by one thing and no deviatin fae it.’ And then we reverted to normal. He told me about Reinya and the souterrain folk. Of the cloth they wove from the recyk fibres supplied by Steadie and of how they had helped him. He had seemed enthusiastic almost.

  That behaviour changed again when we arrived into the chaos of Steadie during a raid. And the first sight of my injured Pa. Scud had been kind to me, as if he felt my pain, but then he got tough and ordered me to man up. Well I did and I’d been manning up ever since.

  Maybe it was his reunion with Reinya and the death of her child that tipped Scud over the edge. Whatever it was, there was no denying, Scud had changed. It was good he was going back to Black Rock to focus on the education programme. I knew from my experience as his pupil that it was a task he could excel in.

  Ishbel

  They arrived in darkness. The moorloggers had legitimate business in the North Sea, trawling for wood. They’d been betrayed on recent missions for Vanora’s Native Freedom Fighters and lost boat and crew as a result. Sven, the skipper of the Amber Sky had been reluctant to take Ishbel and her carefully picked band of men, but he knew he had no choice when she handed him the Blue Pearl badge. The NFF was history and the reputation of the might of the Blue Pearl Army had preceded her.

  Ishbel clung to the bridge, fighting back her quease.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ she said to Sven, realising he must have known the crew of the destroyed moorlogger.

  ‘Should have thought of that before you thrust the Blue Pearl threat in my face.’

  ‘The Blue Pearl isn’t a threat, it’s our only chance to deal with the State and free the natives.’

  ‘I’ve been trawling these waters for twenty years, ever since the purge. Boat’s been in my family for decades before the fishing ban. I don’t need no threat to help.’ He stared out at the grey wall of sea mist. ‘Should never have got involved with you lot.’

  The Amber Sky had picked her party of six from the top corner of Freedom Island. Being the fourth quarter of the year, night-time came early, but so did the gales.

  The boat rose and pitched into waves as high as the Capital’s tower before they came crashing down to be swallowed by another wave. Ishbel wondered how the small vessel could survive such punishment. Each time they were engulfed she expected to drop to the depths of the ocean but the waves washed off the deck.

  ‘We still don’t know who betrayed us.’

  ‘No,’ Ishbel said and looked behind her as if the traitor might have followed her on board. At first she had suspected her old rival Merj, but he was trusted by The Prince and had obviously been in his pay all along.

  The boat engine screamed again in protest at the battering sea. They wore life jackets, but these looked useless. Anyone overboard would be consumed. Because all her men had been prisoners they were in greater danger. After the establishment of the prison islands all prisoners had had part of their brains altered to disable their swimming ability. Scud had had his disabilty repaired but these men, now clinging to the boat and spewing on the floor, were still impaired, although she doubted being able to swim would help in these atrocious conditions.

  From the depths of the murk she spotted a ship.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Don’t worry ‘bout that,’ Sven said. ‘Rusty old battleship that should have been retired long ago. The State, huh, they think they are the force they once were.’ He shook his head. ‘Show, all show. They are harmless, we go to this port many times. They will not bother us. The captain? He sits with his feet up drinking illegal Mash.’

  At last the sea flattened out enough for them to see a light in the distance.

  ‘Land,’ Sven said. ‘These people, they have wood of their own. The lungs of Esperaneo, but they make us welcome.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Quality Noiri contra there.’

  Despite his boasts of a grand welcome, they tracked round a small island and waited in a secluded natural harbour until Sven was happy all was clear. The waters calmed as they approached and the men, still grey with sickness, sank down in relief and sipped some soup.

  One of the moorlogger crew – an old man with a face of crumpled rubber, grumbled about cleaning up the sickness, sluiced the decks with troughs of salt water not caring who got in his way.

  Sven beamed nav-charts to Ishbel’s communicator.

  ‘Open the file,’ he said.

  She booted her comms and a holo hovered above the table.

  ‘You see this bay here.’ He pointed through the holo to a small heart-shaped bay deep in a fjord. ‘This is where I drop you. The Prince already has men in the area.’ He pointed to a dark mass with no detail like someone had rubbed it out. ‘We guess this is a Military base.’ She could see a dense feature just before a jagged mountain range. ‘And this?’ she asked.

  He nodded ‘A protected forest. This is where you rendezvous. Once you make contact you head south east towards the Bieberville border. Here.’ He pointed to a blank featureless landscape, marked with scattered dwellings and a border line.

  ‘Should we destroy these maps?’

  Sven shook his head. ‘These are basic maps. If the Military capture you they will not think it strange you have a map.’ He tapped his mouth. ‘And anyway, take the pill.’

  Ishbel pushed down the panic bubbling in her stomach. At times like these she remembered she was just a simple native.

  All her life her mother had convinced her she was capable of great things, even if Vanora did not always show that confidence in her. She knew she was strong but up until last year Ishbel had been a domestic native caring for her sister’s privileged son, Sorlie. All that had changed when her sister died and fulfilled her status as a Hero in Death. Ishbel looked at the men in the boat waiting for her to lead them. What was she doing here? Why had she taken the
responsibility to lead such an important mission on Esperaneo Major? If she failed the whole Blue Pearl campaign to free the natives from their slave state would fail. She couldn’t let that happen.

  They motored in a cloak of darkness into the fjord. The noise of the engine seemed to rattle off colossal cliffs like a ball bearing in a tin lid. Sven lifted his shoulders in a sorry shrug. There was a small inflatable that the crew lowered into the water. Ishbel and her five men climbed into the boat. Deep into the night they could see bouncing lights alone on the shoreline. Something was coming and it didn’t care if it was seen. Distant but growing closer. Military trucks.

  ‘Hurry,’ Sven said.

  As the smaller boat moved off, the moorlooger gunned its engines and began a wide curve away from them. The wake tossed the little boat towards the shore. The lights of trucks ranged on the water. From the shore an engine kicked off, a motor boat rocketed from a boatyard. Ishbel didn’t think they had been spotted because the boat headed toward the moorlogger. She was wrong. Shots fired into the water, Huxton yelped and collapsed over the side. Ishbel grabbed for his jacket but he had drifted too far.

  ‘Turn around,’ someone shouted.

  ‘Keep going,’ Ishbel roared as she dived into the water to catch Huxton. The freezing sting took her breath away. She reached for Huxton who was thrashing in panic. ‘Your jacket keeps you up,’ she said as she grabbed his collar. She watched their small boat retreat from the hunter’s light and disappear round the headland into safety.

  ‘They left us.’ Huxton said.

  ‘Yes. But they’ll come back. We’ll head for shore.’

  She saw a small wooded island, no bigger than a soccer pitch, separated from the mainland by a pebble causeway. She kicked off with one eye still on the wake of the departing boat. Suddenly the sky filled with a bright light and the sound of the boat cut. As she and Huxton lay on the beach snorting seawater from their noses, they watched their small boat being towed to the shore. Four of her men were led at gun point onto the far shore, prisoners yet again. They did not know the plan but that wouldn’t stop the Military from torturing them. They’d been betrayed again.