The soldier was finally given permission to leave after she had felt the full force of the Ruler's wrath. It was an experience she did not care to go through again. With the new arrivals the Ruler had asked for to tighten the security at the base, she would no longer be the newest or lowest ranking officer. It was the only good news she had had all day.
TIME : 9:00 P.M. (21:00)
PLACE : Zhrook's Space Station
Peter, Hank, Linda, and Lisa arrived in their Altair 7 uniforms. The first thing they did was look at the people who were there, and then wished they hadn't. It seemed like everyone from the Altair system that a normal person didn't want to meet was somewhere on board. It Zhrook wasn't connected with the mob, he had plenty of customers who were.
Before Peter could discuss where to go or what to do, Lisa had walked up to the nearest bar and ordered a drink. Before she had a chance to drink it, Peter pulled her aside.
"What do you think you're doing?" he questioned. "You're on duty in the middle of an important mission. The last think we need is for you to get drunk."
"For your information, I was about to ask the bartender where I could find either Zhrook or Chav," Lisa snapped back. "We're suppose to be getting information and what better place to get information than in a bar."
"You've been watching too many spy movies," Peter remarked acidicly.
"Now isn't a good time to fight," warned Hank. "Fights will only attract attention to ourselves and any real Altair 7 soldier will know we don't belong in these uniforms."
Peter and Lisa looked at Hank and knew that he was right. Hank had had his fair share of arguments, but he knew the importance of keeping calm when they needed to work together. Their argument had to be resolved immediately if they wanted to keep a low profile.
"Three drinks maximum," instructed Peter.
"Agreed," said Lisa as she returned to the bar to start on her drink which had surprisingly been untouched while she was gone.
"Where should the rest of us go?" wondered Linda.
Her question was almost immediately answered when Peter saw a familiar face.
The face belonged to Beng, the one the Ruler personally held responsible for loosing the war with Triax. He wasn't exactly know for his courage, but when the Ruler ordered his execution, he found the courage to run away. In the six months sense, he had wandered from place to place hoping not to be discovered, finally settling down on Zhrook's Space Station. No one expected him to be hiding so close to the Ruler's home planet. At last, he could relax, or so he thought.
"I don't believe it," Peter muttered to himself.
"What don't you believe?" asked Hank.
"That was Beng who just passed us," Peter explained. "Last time I saw him, he was on Triax holding Doug hostage. The Ruler is offering a huge reward for anyone showing proof of his death."
"Perhaps we should have a little chat with him," suggested Linda.
Slowly and cautiously, the three of them approached the table where Beng was sitting.
TIME : 9:03 P.M. (21:03)
PLACE : The bar
Lisa was just finishing her drink when a handsome young man sat down beside her.
"My name is Chav," he began. "I believe you've been looking for me."
Lisa looked at him with genuine surprise. It was too good to be true.
"Two more drinks, please," she told the bartender.
"I'm on duty," he said. "I can't have any alcoholic beverages for another three hours."
"Then I'll drink yours for you," insisted Lisa.
She finished the first drink at the same time the bartender placed the two drinks she had requested in front of herself and Chav. Lisa began working on the second drink almost immediately. This time, she drank a little more rapidly.
"I'll take a glass of water," requested Chav.
The two of them began talking about topics totally unrelated to the mission they were currently on. Chav would have to retell it to the others anyway, so he decided to wait until they returned to find Lisa. In the meantime, they would talk about anything except the mission. They had both been very busy reecently and needed a chance to catch their breath.
TIME : 9:05 P.M. (21:05)
PLACE : Beng's table in the middle of a restaurant
Not knowing he was being followed, Beng decided to get something to eat. He had gone the same restaurant every day for a month without incident, so he figured it was safe to eat there again. Suddenly, he saw four Altair 7 soldiers headed in his direction. Not knowing whether to run or hide, he stayed right where he was and panicked.
As they got closer he realized that they weren't soldiers from Altair 7. It was the same four officers from M.W.G.D. officers that had humiliated him back on Triax. He didn't know whether to feel better or worse.
"I no longer work for the Ruler!" he cried. "The Ruler wants my head, so I do my best to avoid dealing with the Ruler or M.W.G.D."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," Peter informed him. "The Ruler is going to attack Altair 3 in a few days and we need all the information we can about how to stop him If you cooperate, M.W.G.D. might give you amnesty."
"You said the magic word," Beng declared. "You don't know how long I've been waiting hear that word."
"I said might," reminded Peter. "It depends on the information you give us."
"How do you know I won't blow your cover?" demanded Beng.
"There's a price on your head," Peter stated simply. "Any Altair 7 soldier you meet would thank you for the information, and then blow you away."
"It seems I don't have a choice," agreed Beng. "I've spent most of my life on Triax and have never set foot on Altair 7. However, I do know the Ruler keeps most of the attack fleet near his main base on Altair 7. That way, he can keep an eye on it and keep it well protected."
"Do you know any way we can get to the attack fleet?" inguired Peter.
"The best way is from the base itself," answered Beng. "However, going to the base is even more dangerous then being found in the middle of the attack fleet. The base is always crawling with soldiers, especially at a time like this."
"What is the best way to get past the soldiers?" questioned Hank.
"Get to the attack fleet as soon as possible," Beng continued. "The more time you spend inside the base the greater your chances of being discovered. Once you're there and have done whatever you've set out to do, find the quickest path out of the base and take it even if you have to walk past the Ruler himself."
Peter, Hank, and Linda looked at each other and considered their options. Beng waited eagerly hoping he would get the freedom he wanted.
"What do you think?" asked Peter. "Should we grant him amnesty?"
"Yes," concluded Hank with obvious hesitation.
"I say we kill him and hand his body over to the Ruler," reasoned Linda. "He'll be so pleased with us that he won't even consider the possibility that we work for M.W.G.D. We'1 be free to do what we want."
Hank and Linda turned to Peter. Beng also turned to Peter. Even though Linda was joking, she sounded just serious to make Beng wonder if she was indeed joking, or telling the truth.
"Looks like I get the deciding vote," smiled Peter. "This is such a tough decision."
"If you give me my freedom, I'll never bother you again," pleaded Beng.
"O.K., you've convinced me," agreed Peter. "Go to Altair 3, contact the M.W.G.D. base and tell them that Peter Elvis Buckwell asked for you to be given amnesty for your war crime against the people of Triax."
Beng thanked them all, even Linda, and ran to find the nearest shuttle to Altair 3.
"I didn't know your middle name was Elvis," Hank remarked.
"It's not, it's James," Peter told him. "I wanted to use a name associated with Earth so Shawn will know Beng is on the level."
"And you said Lisa watched to many spy movies," chuckled Hank.
"Speaking of Lisa, I wonder what she's doing?" hinted Peter.
"We'd better go back and check on her," agreed Linda.
TIME : 9:15 P.M. (21:15)
PLACE : The bar
"0-one m-more dr-rink, please," slurred Lisa.
The bartender gladly obliged. There was no such thing as a house limit. As long as the customer was able to pay, the drinks would keep coming.
Lisa was about to tell Chav a long, boring story about how she use to hate her first grade teacher when she was joined by Peter, Hank, and Lisa. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened while they were gone.
"How many drinks have you had?" snapped Peter.
"T-two or three," lied Lisa. "m-mayb-be f-four."
"She's had seven since I got here," Chav confessed.
"I knew this would happen," griped Peter. "You always have to do things your own way. It doesn't matter that were in the middle of an important mission. You have to start drinking. Now your drunk!"
"I-I found Chav-v for you," stuttered Lisa.
Peter looked at the man next to her in utter disbelief.
"How do you do it?" asked Peter.
Lisa didn't feel like answering the question. She stood up, with difficulty, and wobble in Peter's direction. She was about half way there when she lost her balance and fell to the floor. After that, she didn't move.
"One alcohol antidote," Chav told the bartender.
"What's that?" wondered Linda.
"It increases the body's natural ability to neutralize alcohol, but it tastes terrible," explained Chav. "The trouble is getting her to drink it."
"Just tell her it's a rare, exotic beverage," Linda remarked dryly.
Hank gently shook her until she opened her eyes.
"Drink this," said Chav handing her the alcohol antidote.
Lisa took a small sip and began to shiver. She stared at the clear substance in the glass wondering how something that looked so much like water could taste so terrible. Reluctantly, she turned the glass upside down and consumed its contents as quickly as possible.
"I feel awful," she groaned when she was done.
"It's called a hangover," scolded Peter. "It happens to people who drink too much."
"Perhaps I should tell you how to get to the base," suggested Chav. "About ten kilometer north of the base is an elderly couple working for M.W.G.D. They should be able to give you everything you need to move swiftly and quietly through the base."
They thanked Chav for the information and left to find the elderly couple. Lisa slept in the back of the ship for most of the trip. She had single handedly found Chav for them and no one even bothered to thank her.
Copyright MCMXCII, MCMXCIX
