The Frihet Rebellion

Karl slipped into the darkened bedroom silently, just as he had slipped away from the official welcome home party taking place in the public reception room of the royal Palace. In the far background, he could still hear the buzz of voices. The bedroom was dimly illuminated by moonlight filtering through a window, and he could make out the position of a chair, a wardrobe, the communications console. Against the far wall, he could see a bed and, lying tangled in the sheets, Bryant Johnson.

The hated Earthman had left the party some hours before, tired from his still healing injuries, and the medication he had been given to manage the pain. Karl had gambled that he would fall asleep as soon as he got into bed, and the gamble had paid off.

He pulled a combat knife from his belt, the nine-inch blade glinting in the stripes of moonlight as he walked, cautiously, across the room.

Johnson must die! He is an Earthman. He has dared to come between me and my Princess, bewitching her with drugs or magic or something. Turning her away from me. With him out of the way, the Princess will be mine once more. He cannot be allowed to live.

He neared the bed and looked down, almost relenting and rethinking his rage. The man, Johnson, looked peaceful, his bandages proof of his sacrifices in the battle against the Earth President. The moonlight laid a stripe across his face and an outstretched arm that hung over the edge of the bed. Was it noble to kill a sleeping man? Was it an honorable thing for a Frihet military officer, and a possible future king, to do?

But if Johnson lives, I have no hope with the Princess. And it is unthinkable that an Earthman should be the consort of my Princess. That is mydestiny. That is my right!

He raised the knife and prepared to plunge it downward.

“Field Commander, don’t!”

The shout came from the doorway.

Karl turned, stunned to see Princess Thalor standing there, an automatic pistol in her hand.

“Move away from the bed,” said the Princess, her heart thumping in her chest, but her hand steady.

She had seen the Field Commander leaving the party and, concerned by his general manner since returning from the successful mission to Earth, had decided to follow. She would have reached the bedroom sooner if she hadn’t been delayed by a couple of Naval Captains. It would have been rude not to say at least a few words to the returning heroes.

If she had realized, then, what Field Commander Langdon was planning to do, she would have risked the rudeness.

“Don’t do it,” she said. “Bryant is on our side.”

“But he has intruded, pushed himself into our lives. Between me and you,” said Karl, the knife still held ready.

“There was never a me and you, Commander. You must know that.”

The voices had woken Bryant. Seeing the knife above him, he chose to remain still. He doubted he could move fast enough to avoid the falling blade, and he didn’t feel fit enough to grapple with the Field Commander, who he knew to be a seasoned fighter. He could hear, but not see, the Princess. He could only hope she knew what to do.

“I love you,” said Karl, tears beginning to flow, but the fist holding the knife still steady. “In time you would have loved me too.”

“You are very dear to me,” said the Princess, her voice softening. “A great advisor and a wonderful military leader. You are a hero, and the whole planet knows it. But I would never have loved you.”

Karl, confused, looked back to the man he was prepared to kill. He looked into open eyes and saw the fear there.

Is this a man she can love? But he is an Earthman, and he is my enemy. Surely she would not choose an Earthman over a loyal Frihetian? I would bet my life on it.

He raised the knife for a death dealing plunge.

He lost his bet.

In the weeks following the fleet’s return from Earth, Bryant’s health gradually improved. Before long, he was able to stroll the Palace grounds with the Princess, and talk. It drew them ever closer, until it seemed nothing would be able to separate them.

Also in the weeks following the return, plans were laid for the crowning of Princess Thalor as Queen of Frihet, a title she had refused to take until her planet was free of Earth rule.

On the day itself, members of the newly elected Parliament of Earth were welcome guests at the Palace, as were dignitaries from other planets in the Raga system. At the very front of the honored guests stood a number of M’Abuutan, led by King Ideb, with M’b’gera at his side. In deference to the sensibilities of the off-worlders, they wore loincloths. Behind the scenes, Chia helped Princess Thalor prepare herself.

Among much pomp and ceremony, Princess Thalor was crowned Queen of Frihet. The crowds cheered. The trumpets blew.

To one side, Bryant sat, full of pride and, if he dared admit it to himself, love. He watched the girl he knew as Elise Thalor wear the crown of a Queen. She looked regal and beautiful. But his attention did stray. And when it did, he most often found himself looking across the grounds, first to where Sarah Davison and Crawford Sumner sat, and then along to two grey skinned aliens.

Saul watched the proceedings with an expression of interest, a slight smile on his face. Jon, however, seemed distracted. He often looked away from the ceremony, towards the distant ocean.

For a moment, Bryant and Jon locked eyes, and Bryant knew, without the aid of any telepathy, exactly what his old friend was thinking.

They had to raise Spearhead from the ocean depths soon.

Bryant smiled and saw that Jon, too, was smiling. It was good to have a purpose in life. As much as he looked forward to his time with Elise, he also looked forward to reacquainting himself with Jon and his remarkable ship, Spearhead. Forget the past. He wanted his friend back. And he wanted his job back.

There was still a lot to do.

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