Captain Scarlet crossed the deserted street, passing from the dim glow of the streetlight into an almost stygian darkness. The perpetual drizzle of rain had already soaked through his jacket, jeans and shoes and his fingers were getting numb with the cold. He was heartily sick of this mission, which had seen him alone, undercover, searching the streets of Lupeni, an old mining community in Transylvania, for the past four days. He had been sent by CW following a report from a trusted Spectrum ground agent, that Captain Black had been seen in the area.
He was alone because everyone else was busy on security duties surrounding the forthcoming Bereznian ‘peace talks’ due to start next week, and, although nobody would admit as much, because his presence unsettled the World President. He was undercover because the Bereznians did not welcome the presence of Spectrum officers in the countries they considered theirs, and upsetting the Bereznians was the last thing anyone wanted to do. Under the circumstances, the report of Black in such a sensitive political region was also too important to be ignored, and the colonel thought he was the obvious person to track Black.
Scarlet agreed with that: his obsession with the Mysterons’ principal agent remained as strong as it had ever been. Ever since his murder and subsequent retrometabolisation by the vengeful aliens, he had devoted himself to defeating them, or - if that proved impossible - preventing their threat to destroy all life on Earth in retaliation for Black’s over-hasty attack on their Martian settlement. It was the height of irony, in warped alien minds at least, that Spectrum’s Captain Black should spear-head their revenge.
However, after four days combing the streets of Lupeni without success, Scarlet was beginning to think the report of Black’s sighting was a total red herring.
He stepped off the pavement to cross a side street and straight into a puddle that flooded his shoe with freezing water.
“Damn and blast!” he snarled, trying unsuccessfully to shake the water from his shoe.
“American?”
The woman’s voice startled him, and his hand automatically flew to the pistol in his jacket pocket. He spun around in the direction of the voice, peering into the pitch-black darkness.
As Scarlet’s excellent night vision kicked in, it allowed him to identify that she was older than she sounded, thin to the point of emaciation, with bleached blonde hair and heavy make-up. She posed no threat.
“English,” he replied.
She smiled. “We do not see many foreigners in Lupeni. You are lost, Mister?”
“Not exactly. I was looking for an old friend of mine. I had news that he was here, in Lupeni, but I haven’t found him yet.”
“It is not such a good night to be searching,” she remarked. “You are very wet.”
“Yes; I’m considering giving up for tonight.”
“Come. I can let you dry yourself and I have brandy to warm you.”
“I’m not looking for… trade,” said Scarlet, with an apologetic smile.
“Trade? I offer of friendly-ness and you think I want money?”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
For a moment, she stared at the young man and then smiled again. “Come. I am going into the theatre. There it is at least dry; and warmer than here.”
Considering the long walk back to his spartan hotel room without enthusiasm and factoring in that the rain had grown heavier even in the time they’d been talking, Scarlet nodded and smiled.
“Thank you, Miss?”
“Lenuta. I am call Lenuta.”
“Paul. Pleased to meet you, Lenuta.”
She led him towards an unobtrusive door, flush with the wall of the building, and indicated the way inside. The building was gloomy, smelt musty and appeared to be abandoned, but in the distance, he could see a faint light.
“Do you live here, Lenuta?”
“For now. In summer our troupe make tours of theatres and fairs. We are big attraction! Domnule Atent şi frumoasa Lenuta. People pay well to see us. But when it is so cold nobody is much wanting to see performers.”
“How many of the troupe are here?”
“Just Domnule Atent and me.”
“What do you do at these theatres and fairs?” Scarlet asked, smiling down at her.
“Atent is a wizard. He makes magic with people’s minds.”
“A magician; that’s fascinating.”
“More than a magician! A wizard!” she asserted, as she led the way up a rickety flight of stairs towards the light. “He speak every language; he taught me my Engleză… am I not good at it?”
“Very good,” he agreed.
Preening slightly, she pushed open the door and stepped into a room. The walls were covered with a variety of garish posters showing a voluptuous, under-dressed woman, presumably Lenuta, and a tall, rather menacing looking man, wearing a midnight-blue cape covered with gold stars. On the posters, green and gold rays flashed from his eyes as, with an imperious gesture from his outstretched hand, he focused his gaze on the mesmerised woman.
The man in the room was as dissimilar to the man on the poster as Lenuta was to the woman. He was elderly, grey-haired and stooping. He looked up at Scarlet and Lenuta as they approached as if he was expecting too see them both.
“Welcome. Paul.” There was just the merest hesitation before he spoke Scarlet’s name.
“Thank you.” Scarlet looked from one to the other. “How did you know my name?”
“Wizard,” Lenuta said, shaking her head slightly at Scarlet’s scepticism. “I tell you.”
“Come, friend Paul,” said Atent, “Sit by the stove and warm yourself. We shall have some food, and you are welcome to share it with us.”
“That’s very kind of you, but-”
“Please do not worry. We have plenty and you will get nothing better at your hotel. Lenuta is a very good cook.”
As he spoke, a wonderful smell of food wafted through the room, when Lenuta lifted the lid of a pot sitting on top of a small, but extremely hot stove. Scarlet’s mouth watered and he realised he hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours. His appetite was minimal unless he was retrometabolising after an injury, but he couldn’t go indefinitely without wanting to eat something. He sometimes wondered if that was just a habit, or, more likely, the memory of a habit, from his pre-Mysteronised life.
“That smells good,” he replied. “I’d be honoured to eat with you, Atent.”
The meal was basic, but tasty and filling. The warmth from the food seemed to seep into his bones and he relaxed in the company of these hospitable people. It wasn’t often he got to engage with civilians and being undercover made it easier for him to relax. Lenuta poured him another goblet of rich, dark red wine, and he drank it with pleasure.
“This is good,” he said, raising the goblet to his hosts. “I’ve never tasted anything quite like this before.”
“It is a local speciality, laced with herbs and spices. It keeps the cold out,” Atent explained.
“Certainly does that,” Scarlet agreed, his voice slurring a little as a satiated lassitude crept over him. The room had become oppressively hot and he was so tired that his limbs felt heavy but it was too much effort to try to move them. His vision blurred and he felt sleepy. So sleepy…
Atent watched as his guest slipped into the hazy state of consciousness he’d induced. It was not exactly a lack of consciousness, but a profoundly relaxed feeling of wellbeing, leaving the individual open to suggestion and eminently biddable.
Atent leant forward in his chair and stared deep into Scarlet’s deep blue eyes.
“Listen, Paul. Listen carefully to my voice and remember my words.”
“I will remember.”
“Good, now, because I have a new mission for you. In the morning you will not remember what has happened here, you will leave Lupeni and return to Cloudbase to continue with your duties as if nothing has happened. Then this is what I want you to do…”
*
Back on Cloudbase, Captain Scarlet’s report to Colonel White was brief and offered no hope of Spectrum finding Captain Black in Lupeni.
“I combed the place, sir, and there was no sign of him. If he ever was there, and I truly understand that the report seemed to be accurate, he’d gone before I arrived.”
The colonel studied his senior officer intently. “Was there any indication of what Black might have been doing there? If he was, he must’ve been up to something – it is hardly a holiday resort from what you’ve said. Please understand the seriousness of this, Captain: I don’t want anything to affect the forthcoming talks with the Bereznians.”
“No, sir; I saw no sign of unrest or any political agitation at all. The weather was bloody awful and the streets were empty seventy-five percent of the time. If there is an impending anti-Bereznian uprising planned, it would have to be done indoors!”
“Huhm… That’s not as reassuring as you seem to assume, Captain.”
“Believe me, sir, I found nothing, and it was not from lack of trying. There were no leads, Colonel; not even a sense that something was happening there. The place could’ve been in hibernation.”
White sighed. “Very well, we can’t waste our time on something that shows no promise of being productive in containing the Mysterons during the peace talks.”
“Has there been a specific threat, Colonel?” Scarlet had not had time to catch up with events before his interview with his commanding officer.
White shook his head. “No, nothing obvious. The last threat was the one you heard before you left: ‘You will find no peace, but only Death, the Destroyer of Worlds’.“
“It sounded familiar then,” Scarlet said, thoughtfully. “Did we manage to crack it?”
“Well, Captain Blue identified a similar quote as coming from Robert Oppenheimer, the physicist known as the ‘father of the atomic bomb’”, the colonel explained. “And Oppenheimer was misquoting Hindu scripture, apparently. Nevertheless, I still believe it is a threat to the peace talks. The phrase seems too apt to be coincidental, which is why the report that Black was in Lupeni had to be investigated.”
Scarlet nodded. “And now?”
“I have ordered Spectrum Bucharest to send three of their agents to assist the local agent in keeping the place under surveillance. It may be a red herring, but I daren’t take the risk.”
“What do you want me to do now I’m back?”
Colonel White had been giving this some thought.
His other senior officers were all busy providing security for the World Senate and the venue for the talks, and, just that morning, he had finally reached agreement with the Bereznian Government for a Spectrum Agent to accompany State President Ivan Vodnik to the meeting, in order to co-ordinate the security measures. He had considered assigning the post to Captain Blue, the most diplomatic of his elite squad, but Blue was a favourite with World President Younger, who’s life he had once saved, and the President was already on edge about the forthcoming talks, so it would not be a good idea to unsettle him further.
Now, he knew Captain Scarlet could be a little rash at times, but, in some ways, he was the obvious person to handle a military-trained President who surrounded himself with top-ranking military aides. Scarlet’s own military career had been nothing less than spectacular and he was steeped in military tradition and behaviour.
“You will go to Katania and act as liaison with State President Vodnik’s personal team, including their security detail. The team at Futura are finding it difficult to get the necessary information from the Bereznians to ensure adequate security around the VIPs and the venues.”
Scarlet nodded thoughtfully, an unusually faraway expression on his face.
“Is there a problem?” White asked. He was used to Scarlet responding to every order he was given and silence might well represent insubordination.
“No, sir!” Scarlet suddenly looked up and grinned. “I guess I got the poisoned chalice, eh? Ah well, it can’t be worse than freezing my balls off in Lupeni.”
The colonel struggled to suppress his smirk of amusement. “Dismiss, Captain and prepare to leave for Katania. I will notify the authorities of your expected time of arrival once you are ready to leave Cloudbase.”
“S.I.G., Colonel.”
*
Captain Scarlet had always considered that a visit to Katania was like entering a time-warp. The street-scene was rooted firmly in the immediate post-war twentieth century with brutal concrete tower blocks and identikit shops with windows full of static mannikins wearing utility-style fashions. Armed policemen were visible at street corners and, to Scarlet’s espionage-trained eyes, many of the pedestrians looked like undercover agents keeping an eye on brow-beaten shoppers, who barely dared to glance at the blood-red-SSC as it swept towards the Presidential Compound.
He slowed and prepared to show his security credentials to the burly armed guards who were flagging him down. He handed over his security pass and waited while they ostensibly telephoned the building for clearance. He had no doubt that every one of the CCTV cameras was trained on him and that scanners were probing the SSC.
“They’re going to be disappointed,” he thought a little smugly, “Anything on the secret list was removed before I started.”
“Pass.” The Guard handed back the documentation as the metal gate swung open. Scarlet drove into the courtyard and was met by three top-ranking officers of the Bereznian army.
He returned their salute and followed them into the building. The Bereznian State President, Ivan Vodnik, was sitting behind a solid wooden desk, a neat pile of papers in front of him. He looked up and glowered at Scarlet, even as the Spectrum officer snapped off a perfect salute.
“Welcome Captain Scarlet,” Vodnik growled in surprisingly good English. “I have agreed to have you here to calm the fears of President Younger that security may not be sufficient on the World Government’s side. Rest assured, Bereznik needs no support from decadent organisations like Spectrum.”
“I’m happy to liaise with your officers, Mr State President. I am here to ensure compatibility so that a seamless security net surrounds the peace talks in Futura. Spectrum is a global force and we are here to be of service where we can.”
“You are here to be Younger’s personal policeman.” Vodnik glanced beyond Scarlet to the row of his uniformly stern-faced senior officers. “However, in the spirit of co-operation I have ordered my officers to give you every assistance.”
“I am very grateful, sir.”
“We leave for the airport in two hours. General Beck, my chief-of-staff, will brief you on our schedule.” Vodnik paused and then added as if in afterthought, “And give you any refreshment you desire after your journey.”
“While his goons strip down my SSC,” Scarlet thought. He said, “Thank you, Mr State President.” And saluted again before marching from the office with parade ground smartness.
General Beck’s English was barely less polished than his commanding officer’s, and easily good enough to hold a conversation. From certain comments Beck made during an unnecessarily detailed briefing, Scarlet began to warm to him. He suspected Beck did not revere his leader as much as Vodnik thought he did and neither did he view Bereznik through the official rose-tinted spectacles the State demanded its citizens wear at all times. However, Scarlet had no doubt that Beck’s loyalty to his country was genuine and that he took his oath to protect the nation seriously.
“The World Government is sincere in its offer of peace, General,” Scarlet said. “I know, because Spectrum has been involved from the beginning of the initiative. We’re eager to see all the nations of the World at peace with each other, so that our combined efforts can defend the planet from any…extra-terrestrial threats that may arise.”
Beck raised a thick, dark eyebrow. “Do not imagine that we have no knowledge of this hoax the World Government is telling to the world: these ‘Mysterons’.” He shrugged. “Invisible, deadly foes. How likely is that, Captain?”
“I was always told to expect the unexpected, General. It’s the ‘Rule One’ of warfare.”
Beck gave a wry smirk. “Not in my rule book, Captain. I do not expect little green men.”
“Nor do I, but as mankind explores the galaxy and beyond, who knows what we may discover – or what may discover us?”
Beck acknowledged that this was a valid point with a slight incline of his head. “But we have not yet gone so far and nothing has come here. I assure you Bereznik has space defences, quite as many as the World Government and just as powerful.”
“I have no doubt you do, General. It’s just that united we’d be a better deterrent to any belligerent little green men.”
Beck studied him carefully as he replied, “I think our main threats are from this planet, Captain, not from the stars.”
Scarlet smiled. “Then let’s hope that our leaders can agree to act in unison against those. Then we can take it from there…”
*
When the motorcade was ready to depart, General Beck escorted Scarlet to his SSC.
“You are second in the line, Captain. I shall be in the car with the State President and there will be two outriders, an armed car with security men and then you, followed by the armoured car, with cannons.”
“I trust I will be allowed to join the State President on his plane?”
“Naturally. I merely think you would not want to leave your vehicle behind, Captain, so I make arrangement for you to take it back to the airport. If this is not the case…?”
“I’m happy to fit in with your plans, General. However, the SSC could be collected in due course by one of our accredited agents; I don’t have to take it back to the airport.” Scarlet smiled. “It isn’t a hire car.”
Beck did not react to this teasing, but he did conduct Scarlet towards Vodnik’s car, which was exactly what Scarlet had wanted.
*
President Younger had come to greet State President Vodnik personally and so Futura Airport was crawling with police, and the military. Overhead the Angel Flight circled the perimeter and the no-fly security zone. A small crowd of official pressmen were off to one side, while a fleet of limos waited on the other.
Scarlet scanned the gathered crowd and easily picked out the colourful uniforms of the Elite Corps of Spectrum Officers: Magenta, Ochre, Grey, Blue and White, standing to the right of the World President’s party.
“The gang’s all here,” he thought, with a feeling of relief and pleasure, as he stood to attention for the bombastic melody of the Bereznian National Anthem, followed by the familiar opening chords of Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’, which the World Government had appropriated as its anthem.
Vodnik strode towards Younger immediately the music ended, his entourage following close behind. Caught on the hop, Younger almost leapt forward to meet his guest. There was a great deal of diplomatically gracious small talk, until the two statesmen went to review the guard of honour.
Scarlet, finally able to sidle up to his Spectrum colleagues, said, “Wotcha,” to Blue.
“You’ve survived Katania then?”
“Yeah; they’re all just pussycats… if you ignore the guns and cannons. How’s Futura?”
“Hot and on edge. Younger’s got a lot pinned on making this a success. We’ve rehearsed every set piece and they’ve role played every outcome until we’re all running on auto pilot.”
“The Bereznians probably have too, but they’re not letting on.”
The review concluded and, with a sigh, Blue said, “I have to go. I get to ride with Younger back to the Senate. Lucky me.”
“See you later, over the canapés. Save me some smoked salmon.”
With an amused smile at his friend, Blue strode away after the World President and Scarlet dropped back beside General Beck.
*
The peace talks went on for three long and intense days. Younger revealed himself to be a skilful and effective negotiator and the Bereznians were hard pressed to avoid looking like the reluctant partners in the deal-making. All of the Spectrum officers were kept busy and had little time to get together and relax. Ochre and Grey were charged with keeping the venue safe and Magenta was in charge of a small team of computer technicians ensuring nothing could breach the electronic firewall and alarms. Colonel White was part of the negotiation taskforce, and Captain Blue was acting as personal security and aide to the World President.
In his role, Blue saw most of the negotiations. He saw how Younger handled Vodnik and how the Bereznians fought hard for every concession they could get before agreeing to Younger’s demands, so that, gradually, the two sides came closer together. He was quietly hopeful of a successful outcome.
Captain Scarlet was occupied working with General Beck and smoothing tensions amongst the Bereznian negotiators at what they saw as unreasonable demands by the World Government. He spent several late nights being closely questioned by Vodnik about the World Government’s military resources, the strength they could put in the field against a Bereznian force and the trustworthiness of the individual negotiators. Scarlet found it all mentally tiring, as he, personally, found it hard to trust some of the World Senators, but he knew that he had to keep his responses neutral and bias free. He became increasingly grateful for the calm logic of General Beck and his skilful manipulation of Vodnik that brought the State President ever closer to an agreement with Younger.
On the fourth evening, Scarlet got to meet up with his Spectrum colleagues, except Colonel White, who had already returned to Cloudbase. The VIPs were attending a gala performance of ‘The Nutcracker’ ballet, and he was only too happy to slope out of the Presidential box and join his friends in the narrow bar area.
Ochre had pre-ordered five glasses of ice-cold lemonade and they drank them as if they were the finest champagne, toasting each other as they did so.
“Looks to me like we’ve almost got a deal,” Magenta remarked, as he placed his empty glass down. “The comms traffic to Katania is pretty heavy on how ‘The Great Leader’ is winning concessions from the decadent World President.”
“Isn’t that all encrypted?” Grey asked.
“Yeah, but well, you know…” Magenta winked. “Ain’t an encryption yet I can’t crack, given time and a packet of pretzels.”
“You’ll get us all shot if they find out,” Ochre remarked calmly.
“Can I tell Younger that, Magenta?” Blue asked. “It’d reassure him no end.”
“Hell, no! You will get us shot!” Magenta replied, missing the slight twitch of Blue’s lips when he’d asked.
“Don’t panic, Pat,” said Scarlet. “Adam’s just yanking your chain.”
“How can you tell?” Magenta snapped. “He always looks like butter-wouldn’t-melt in his mouth. Probably due to the silver spoon stuffed in it,” he added, really rattled by the remarks.
“Hey,” Scarlet said, “Calm down. We’re all supposed to be on the same side, remember?”
“Well, I’ve had enough,” Ochre admitted. “I always hated security duties more than anything else. You’d think men – and women – who like to call themselves leaders, would be able to make their minds up in less than three days. The Mysterons could be wiping us out as we sit here nurse-maiding verbose VIPs.”
“Green would let us know if there was a threat,” Grey assured him. “Spectrum hasn’t closed down for the duration. Besides, remember that last threat hasn’t been played out yet, as far as we know-”
“As far as we know,” Ochre repeated, with emphasis.
Grey shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it could be something to do with these talks, so we have to remain alert.”
Scarlet turned his head towards the theatre boxes. “The music’s stopped. They’ll be coming out.”
“Back to the grindstone,” Ochre remarked. “Good to see you, guys.”
The group began to disperse, heading back to their duty stations. Blue walked towards the VIP box, with Scarlet at his side.
There was a muffled sound of applause from inside the auditorium, and deep in Captain Scarlet’s memory something stirred. He felt uneasy.
During their absence armed guards, from both factions, had appeared in the corridor.
Blue frowned. “I don’t recall that these guys were supposed to feature until the VIPs reach the foyer and are waiting to get into their limos,” he remarked.
“Hmm,” Scarlet replied, sounding pre-occupied. He raised a hand to his forehead and felt the film of sweat that had suddenly appeared. He closed his eyes and swayed slightly.
Blue was watching him carefully; Scarlet’s ability to sense the presence of Mysteron agents in the vicinity was usually accurate, and the film of sweat on his friend’s face was a sure sign of the accompanying nausea that signalled a Mysteron was nearby. “What is it, Paul?” Blue hissed. “The Mysterons?”
Scarlet gave no reply, but his hand went to his pistol, and so did Blue’s in response.
As the door to the VIP box began to open, Blue strode towards it, ready to protect the emerging politicians from whatever danger threatened. He heard the click of a pistol engaging just as General Beck stepped out and held the door open for President Younger. Already wound up to fever-pitch, Blue yelled: “Get down, sir!” and threw himself at the World President, knocking him to the ground to cover his body with his own.
There was a single shot, which was immediately followed by the cacophony of a hail of bullets from the guards. In the chaos, the lights went out. Angry voices yelled in a variety of languages and several bodies fell to the ground.
Ochre, Grey and Magenta came at a run, weapons drawn, but hesitated to interfere until they could make sense of the confusion. As more armed guards came running from outside the building, Grey ordered them to halt, get the lights back on and then, he turned and fired his gun into the ceiling shouting:
“Cease firing!”
Gradually, the shooting stopped. There was a momentary silence, then the moans of the wounded began. Everyone squinted as the emergency lighting snapped on. There were half-a-dozen bodies on the ground and several men who were still standing, were bleeding from minor wounds.
“What the hell happened?” Ochre demanded, rushing to help Blue who was struggling to get up from the floor. “Are you hurt, Mr President?”
President Younger was pale and shaken, but unhurt and, as he helped Younger to his feet, Blue explained quietly, “Captain Scarlet sensed there were Mysterons here, sir.”
“Where is Scarlet?” Ochre asked, looking around.
“Over here,” Magenta replied. “He’s out cold. Must’ve taken a blow to the head; I can’t wake him.”
“He tried to shoot the assassin,” Blue explained, before asking the World President, “Are you okay, sir?”
Younger nodded. “I’ll survive, Captain. How is State President Vodnik? General Beck?”
Beck looked up from where he was kneeling beside the body of his commander. “The State President is dead, Mr Younger. He was murdered by Spectrum.”
“No!” Blue exclaimed. “I saw it all. Scarlet recognised there was danger; he was trying to save everyone.”
“You did not see,” Beck said curtly. “You went for Mr Younger, just as you should have done. Scarlet should have done the same for Vodnik, but instead he fired towards him and then these World Government security men opened fire. I saw it all. It was a planned assassination.”
“That is a very serious accusation, General,” Younger said. He looked around at the dead and wounded men littering the floor of the corridor. “But this is not the time or place to discuss it.”
“Mr President, General,” Captain Ochre said, moving towards the men, with his arm outspread to shepherd them away from the carnage. “Our main concern is to protect you. We need to be able to keep you safe, so, please, go back into the box. Captain Blue and Captain Grey will go with you and keep you covered. Captain Magenta and I will organise medical help and ensure that a Maximum-Security Vehicle arrives to transport you to a Spectrum security facility.”
“Why should I trust Spectrum,” Beck asked coldly, “when one of their agents assassinated Vodnik?”
Younger replied, “Spectrum is an organisation dedicated to eradicating the obscenity of terrorism and ensuring World peace. Why would they assassinate the State President when we were on the brink of an historical peace deal?”
“Besides, some of these are your own security men.” Captain Magenta looked up from where he was kneeling beside a wounded man, to reminded Beck, “It was agreed at the pre-meeting protocol discussions that all security details would be a fifty-fifty force. No-one has ever had a numerical advantage.”
“My men would not attack our State President,” Beck snapped. “They are the most loyal of all our troops.”
“It could’ve been an accident,” Magenta suggested. “Maybe President Vodnik wasn’t the actual target, a stray bullet could’ve-”
“You’re saying my President was killed as collateral damage in a Bereznian attack on the World President?” Beck snarled, glaring at Magenta.
“Well, I didn’t say that exactly; but it might be the case,” the Spectrum officer said, as reasonably as he could in the light of Beck’s anger.
Younger stepped forward, determined to take control of what was becoming a very tense situation. He gave the Spectrum officers a fierce glance, warning them to stay out of the discussion. “General Beck, allow me, on behalf of the World Government, to extend the sympathy of the World Senate to the Bereznian people. We will get to the bottom of this, I promise you.” He turned to Magenta, ordering him to withdraw with a barely perceptive nod of his head towards the stairs. “Captain, please co-ordinate the medical support. State President Vodnik’s body must be taken to Futura General hospital.”
With a sketchy salute, Magenta moved away.
Beck stared angrily at Younger, but then gave a brusque nod and exhaled, apparently in an effort to calm down. “Yes, you are right, Mr President.”
“General, who has the authority to speak for the Bereznian State in this sad emergency? I need to convey to him my regret, as well as my sincere hope that these peace talks will survive this… tragedy.”
For a moment Beck looked doubtful. “The Vice President remains in Katania; but I am the senior officer in the National Presidium and second-in-command on this mission.”
“Then, General, perhaps you would join me in accompanying President Vodnik’s body to the hospital, where we can all get a check-up?”
“I would prefer to go to the Bereznian Embassy and have our own doctor deal with my men and myself.” Beck had obviously regained control of himself. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to convey us there? Our President’s body must be prepared and coffined, in readiness to return to Katania.”
“Of course, once our medical teams have completed an autopsy, the body will transferred to your Embassy,” Younger said, in a tone that would brook no argument.
Beck’s expression hardened. “Very well, Mr World President. Our medical team will join yours at the hospital.”
He did not wait for an answer, but snapped an order to those Bereznians fit to leave, turned on his heel and led the men out of the theatre.
“I don’t think we handled that very well, Gentlemen,” Younger said. He turned to Captain Blue. “I want a detailed investigation and report into what the hell happened here, just as soon as possible!”
“S.I.G., Mr President!”
*
Captain Scarlet regained consciousness in the Medical Bay on Cloudbase, much to his surprise. He was confused, his memory of the last few hours a blur.
“How did I get here?” he asked Doctor Fawn, while the latter continued his examination.
Fawn shone a light into Scarlet’s eyes and peered thoughtfully at him, as he countered the question by asking him exactly what he could recall.
Scarlet rubbed his eyes. “The concert. I’m not a great fan of ballet, so I wasn’t paying that much attention to all the prancing about, but I remember that the music was nice.”
“And when the concert was over?”
Scarlet frowned in concentration. “We were preparing to accompany the VIPs, who were ready to leave. Blue said something… and I woke up here.”
“Hmm,” Fawn’s tone was very non-committal. “Then it will come as a great surprise to you to hear that State President Vodnik was shot and killed after the performance last night.”
“Shi-it. I hope you’re having me on, Doc.”
“Not in the slightest. And, to add to your confusion, you are a prime suspect, it seems.”
“Now you’ve got to be joking! My job was to protect him.”
“I’m not. I hate to say it, but every word is true.”
Without asking permission, Scarlet got down from the gurney and grabbed his uniform tunic from the bedside chair. He bent to pull his uniform boots on, while Fawn watched without comment.
“I need to talk to Colonel White,” Scarlet explained, as the silence grew uncomfortable. “I need to know what happened.” He paused as he reached the door and turned to ask, “Are the other guys okay? Blue, Ochre, Grey and Magenta, were they hurt?”
“Not a scratch. They’re all still on duty.”
Scarlet’s relief was visible as the tension left his shoulders and he relaxed. “Thank God,” he muttered under his breath. Then he asked, “What injury did I suffer, Doc?”
Fawn shook his head. “There were no signs of any physical injury. But you were out cold, I can vouch for that much, at least.”
“Then why can’t I remember?”
“I’m working on finding that out.” Fawn tried to sound reassuring. “You’re always bowling me googlies, Scarlet.”
With a wry smile, Scarlet saluted and disappeared.
*
It was becoming increasingly apparent from the hostile rhetoric between the political factions, that the transition of power in Katania was not going to be as straight-forward as had been expected. The news was obviously being censored by the Acting State President, and it carried a strong anti-World Government slant, as he had led the opposition to the peace talks from the start and was now stirring up popular antagonism through Vodnik’s death. The ongoing investigation into that death was inconclusive, so far, allowing the Bereznians to continue to blame Spectrum, and Captain Scarlet in particular.
The World President was becoming ever more anxious about the prospect of restarting the peace talks in the near future. He pressured Colonel White to get to the bottom of the matter as soon as possible.
Captain Scarlet was busy with missions that kept him well away from the politicians, while Captain Blue remained assigned to the World President’s staff, as Spectrum’s advocate and representative. On the rare occasions the two friends were able to converse, both men expressed dissatisfaction with their lot.
Then, three days after Vodnik’s state funeral, the State Presidium made its move and removed the former Vice-President from his post, appointing General Beck as the new State President. There were a few days of fighting in the streets before everything calmed down, with Beck confirmed as the new head of state.
President Younger heaved a sigh of relief, and Captain Blue flew back to Cloudbase.
*
“It might be a good thing,” Scarlet remarked, as he and Blue finished their meal in the Officers’ Restaurant once Blue had reported to Colonel White. “Beck struck me as a moderate, in Bereznian terms, and a pragmatic man.”
“I agree, he is pragmatic,” Blue said, “And, as a pragmatist, he may well realise that he has to stamp his authority on this new administration pretty quickly. The Vice-President wasn’t alone in his war-mongering and Beck may have to placate the hawks by holding the World Government, and by implication, Spectrum, responsible for Vodnik’s death.”
Scarlet gave his friend an appraising glance. “You never cease to amaze me, Blue-Boy. I never knew you were such a cynic.”
Blue shrugged. “I’ve just spent more time than I’m comfortable with listening to the discussions of Younger and his advisors. It’s enough to make any man yearn for a little common decency.”
“I wish the USS would get a move on and clear up what did happen in that theatre,” said Scarlet. “I feel like the proverbial leper – unclean and unsafe to be around.”
“I rather think they’re going to sit on that for a while.”
“Why?” Scarlet recognised the caution in his friend’s voice and for the first time saw concern in his expression. “You finished?” he said, indicating the empty plates.
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s walk.”
They strode in silence out of the restaurant and onto the Promenade Deck. From habit, they went to sit on the low wall that overlooked the Angel Flight’s runway, where Angel One, manned by Destiny Angel, was in position, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
“Tell me,” Scarlet demanded.
“I shouldn’t,” Blue began, but without hesitation he continued, “The final autopsy and investigation report was sent to Younger yesterday. It will be sent to Beck in the next few days, and it’s why I came back here now: to brief the colonel.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Blue nodded. “Vodnik was killed by the bullet from a Spectrum pistol.”
“But everyone fired-” Scarlet began defensively.
Blue shook his head. “I went to get Younger out of the way, Ochre, Magenta and Grey weren’t there, they were on their way back to their duty stations. When they ran back to the corridor, Grey fired one shot, into the ceiling. No other Spectrum weapons were discharged.”
“They checked mine; I suppose?”
Blue nodded. “One shot fired.”
Scarlet flushed, staring down at his hands as he tried to make sense of the evidence. His memory of the incident was no clearer than it had been when he’d woken up on Cloudbase.
“Why, Paul? Why did you do it?”
“You think I did it?”
Blue shrugged. “I don’t know; but, like Beck, I’m a pragmatist and looking at the evidence, it is pretty damning.”
“I don’t remember. As God is my witness, Adam; I don’t remember!”
Involuntarily, Blue drew back slightly and gave a sad shake of his head.
“I’m not contagious,” Scarlet snapped, hurt by his friend’s withdrawal.
“Look: Beck will want a trial. Colonel White doesn’t have any way to prevent it. He will have to agree unless Younger steps in. However, I have to tell you: Younger’s desperate to get Bereznik back to the peace talks, and you may be the price he is willing to pay.”
“He’s never liked me,” Scarlet remarked.
“I’m afraid I can’t blame him for that either. You kidnapped him and threatened his life.”
“I didn’t – the Mysteron Scarlet did!”
“And afterwards you couldn’t remember anything about it,” Blue reminded him, with a significant glance.
Scarlet understood immediately what he was getting at. “Oh, Lord. That never occurred to me. You think it might have been… that I could’ve been… that they – did it again?”
“I don’t know, Paul.”
“Nor do I, Adam; and that’s the scary part.”
*
Bereznian justice was something of a contradiction in terms, as Scarlet found out two months later when he stood in the dock of the Katania Courthouse, facing a military-style tribunal. The prosecution lawyer laid out the bare facts and his – for want of a better term – defence lawyer admitted that the gun was Scarlet’s and he had fired it.
The translator provided by the Bereznian Government hardly bothered to hide his dislike for the assignment. “You were the officer Spectrum assigned to protect State President Vodnik?” he repeated.
“Yes,” Scarlet said, “And I was determined to do my job efficiently.”
The one-word answer the translator gave obviously missed out the majority of the answer.
“You certify that the pistol shown as exhibit A is your pistol?”
“Yes, it is mine.”
“You shot State President Vodnik with it?”
“No! I never shot at him. There were many weapons fired that day. I never fired at him!”
Another one-word answer from the translator was all that was passed on.
Scarlet shook his head and tried desperately to make himself understood. “I did not assassinate Vodnik. I don’t remember what happened. I had a blow to the head and lost my memory, but I would never have shot at him. I am a soldier; I obey my orders and my orders were to protect him.”
The translator repeated a fraction of the speech, in effect only telling the Judges: I am a soldier; I obey my orders.
An objection from the World Government’s legal observer, who had been denied the right to conduct the defence, was ruled inadmissible by the three judges.
It was a forgone conclusion: Guilty.
*
Under Bereznian law, Scarlet faced the death penalty, but vigorous representations from the World Government to General Beck, resulted in a sentence of ‘life imprisonment in a maximum-security facility’. Colonel White breathed a sigh of relief that, for now, the truth of Scarlet’s retrometabolism would remain a secret.
Captain Blue was allowed to visit his friend before Scarlet was removed from Katania to the place selected for his incarceration.
“That was the worst miscarriage of justice I’ve ever seen,” Blue fulminated, striding up and down the narrow cell with pent up rage.
“Even if I did do it?” Scarlet said pointedly.
“I don’t believe you did, Paul. The Mysterons must be behind this somehow; nothing else makes sense. I can’t believe anything else!”
“That’s nice to know.” He sighed. “You know, it is just beginning to dawn on me that life imprisonment could well mean an eternity.”
Blue flushed pale at the very thought. “Nonsense, we’ll get you out long before that becomes an issue… Oh, hell...”
Grinning, Scarlet said, “You’re a sucker for lost causes, aren’t you, Adam?”
“It’s not a lost cause. Look, Beck’s agreed to restart the talks. The colonel thinks he may use your freedom as a bargaining chip. They haven’t got much else, after all.”
“Possibly. It’s something to hope for at least. Listen, Adam, we don’t have much time. I’ve been doing some thinking. The last time I was anywhere near a known Mysteron was in Lupeni, when I was looking for Black. What if he was there? What if somehow he managed to do something that allowed the Mysterons to take control of me again?”
“It’s possible. Did you have an accident while you were there?”
Scarlet shook his head. “The only unusual thing that happened is that I got talking to a couple of travelling fairground performers. They gave me something to eat and drink and I fell asleep in their room.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like you,” Blue said, frowning. “You have insomnia down to fine art.”
“No; now you mention it, it wasn’t. I wonder if while I was asleep, Black… was somewhere nearby and – oh, I don’t know! – brain-washed me.” Scarlet placed a hand on Blue’s arm. “Come to think of it, the guy – eh – Atent, that was his name – he was supposed to be a ‘wizard’. The woman with him said he did magic with people’s minds.”
“Is that all you can remember about them?”
Scarlet quickly told the story of the encounter in Lupeni, concluding: “Maybe it is worth you trying to find them or just investigating them? Maybe they were Mysterons? My sixth sense isn’t always reliable. It wasn’t in Futura, to my cost.”
Blue nodded. “It’s a start. I’ll do what I can.”
The door to the cell opened and the guard motioned Blue to leave.
“Stay cheerful, Paul. This isn’t over, I swear.”
“Goodbye, Adam. And thanks.”
*
The remote maximum-security facility Scarlet was transferred to was a converted medieval fortress, with thick stone walls that towered over sheer cliffs and a deep, swift flowing river. The design of it had piqued his interest when he’d first arrived, and, with the help of a language dictionary, he’d requested a book on local military history as reading matter. The guards had eventually provided one, but it wasn’t in English, so he’d had to amuse himself looking at the maps and pictures.
His individual cell was large, with no modern plumbing or heating. The external windows were mere arrow slits which made it impossible to light or heat the room adequately. He had a narrow bed, a dining table and chair, and a small shelf for his personal belongings. The food was wholesome, but monotonous and he quickly grew tired of it. He was allowed daily access to a courtyard for up to two hours of exercise and to a basic bathroom once a week for a shower, in tepid water. All other bodily functions were catered for by a large metal bucket, that he emptied daily on his way to the courtyard. He could hear other prisoners, from time to time, but he was never allowed to meet them.
Most of the guards spoke very little English, but they weren’t all unfriendly, and he was teaching one of them English in exchange for lessons in the local dialect. This was making day-to-day transactions much easier.
He was allowed one postal delivery a week and one parcel delivery a month. He looked forward to that and jealously hoarded the letters, spacing out reading them so he had a new one every day. There were always enough to last: from his parents and from his friends in Spectrum. It was through these letters that he learnt something of Blue’s progress in investigating the events in Lupeni, and Spectrum’s efforts to get him freed, or at least, relocated to a World Government facility. However, he had no doubt the mail was being read before he got to see it, and neither did his friends. So, a certain amount of what he learned had to come from reading between the lines and his knowledge of his friends’ characters and their shared experiences. The monthly parcel would always include writing paper and return paid envelopes, along with reading matter, teabags and a couple of packets of custard creams or chocolate digestive biscuits. Periodically, there would be toiletries or new clothes.
He spent much of his spare time reading the magazines and books he was sent, or replying to his letters. He was careful to keep his comments neutral as he suspected his letters were read too, and he tried to convey his situation without making it sound too dire, so as not to upset his parents and his fiancée. He missed Rhapsody Angel more every day and in his darkest hours his worst thought was that he would never see her again.
On this particular day, he was trying to contain his excitement at the thought of getting his mail and parcel this morning, but he was already standing to receive them when Costin, the guard he was teaching English, opened the door.
“Good morning, Captain,” Costin said, in his still heavily accented English. “I bring the mail today, for you.”
“Good morning, Costin. Thank you. I am looking forward to getting my mail.”
“This time, there are two parcels. Not so very big, so, I fetch it and there are two and I think is no harm for it, yes?” Costin put a finger to his lips.
Scarlet put a finger against his lips and winked. “No harm at all.”
“Food in two hour, Captain.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Scarlet studied the labels on the parcel. They were both from Captain Blue, so he opened the smaller one to find a paperback volume of ‘War and Peace’.
“You joker, Adam.” He tossed the book onto the bed, smiling, then noticed a single sheet of ruled paper, torn from a notepad, folded and slipped into the pages.
Paul, he read, with some difficulty as the handwriting was a far cry from Blue’s usual meticulous script.
I have news. Atent was arrested for the murder of woman called Lenuta. He was not willing to talk to me for some days, but eventually told me a man in a black uniform like mine had paid him money to hypnotise you. He told him your name and Lenuta was to drug you so he could do it. He gave him some instructions to make you go somewhere and do something – he won’t say what it was but says it was not wicked. I have spoken to Fawn who speculates that while under hypnosis, Black may have been able to implant other instructions into your mind. When the man came back, saying the plan had worked, he told Atent to kill the witness – Lenuta – so he did. But the man had vanished again when he got back to the theatre. Atent only spoke to me as he wanted me to make good the pledge of cash. It must’ve been Black and the instruction must’ve been to kill V.
I want Atent taken to C’base for closer interrogation. Chin up, buddy – we’ve got a lead! A.
To celebrate, Scarlet opened the other parcel, begged some hot water, made himself a cup of tea and ate three custard creams.
*
The prison guards were on edge. It was noticeable by the way they whispered in corners and cursed the prisoners. When Costin came on duty, Scarlet created an opportunity to ask him what was going on.
Costin looked angrily at him. “State President Beck was killed by World Government.”
“What?”
“He went to meet them to talk peace and they kill him. None of you people can be trusted.”
“What happened?”
“A soldier shoot him when he arrive to meet World President. Just like you did. The World Government can never be trusted. You will find no peace.”
“The Mysterons,” Scarlet murmured. “That was the first part of their threat… it must’ve been something to do with sabotaging the peace talks, after all. ‘You will find no peace, but only Death the Destroyer of Worlds.’”
“There will be death,” Costin confirmed. “Bereznik will not surrender. We are not afeared.”
“Costin, please, you have to help me. I must contact Spectrum.”
“No! And they cannot contact you ever again! No more post and parcels. You will not defeat Bereznik. We will be avenged. Spectrum and the World Government will suffer for their unprovoked attack.”
Costin’s words, far beyond the extent of his present basic vocabulary echoed the Mysterons’ familiar threat against life on Earth and sent shivers down Scarlet’s spine. He stared at the man, wondering if his friend had been Mysteronised and, at the same time, doubting it because he felt no warning sense of nausea in his company. He began to protest, to try and reason with Costin, but the guard turned on his heel and slammed the cell door shut.
Scarlet let out a scream of anguish and frustration, because he knew there was nothing he could do. He drew in deep breaths to calm himself and tried to reassure himself that his friends and colleagues in Spectrum were more than capable of working out the Mysteron plot and dealing with it. After all, this was no different from the dozens of other threats they had defeated.
But, Scarlet admitted to himself, how galling it is to be prevented from joining in!
Twenty-four hours later, Bereznik declared war on the World Government.
From the snippets he picked up from the guards as they talked together, not appreciating he now understood most of what they were saying, Scarlet realised that the conventional war was going badly for the Bereznians. Out-numbered and out-gunned they were falling back within their borders, and he began to hope that there would soon be a cease-fire and renewed peace talks. His hopes were cruelly dashed when, the very next day, the Bereznians launched nuclear attacks on western Europe and the states bordering the Mediterranean.
When he heard the news from a boastful guard, Scarlet almost prayed aloud that the World Government wouldn’t retaliate, because he felt sure that was what the Mysterons wanted. But three hours later he learned that the World Government had retaliated with several long-range neutron bombs.
All-out nuclear war started the moment Bereznik launched its entire arsenal against World Government states and from then on, mutual annihilation was assured as individual member states retaliated. The nine days of war were brutal and merciless.
*
The fortress remained largely undamaged as the World Government’s neutron bombs targeted humans rather than infrastructure. The cell doors may have been destroyed in a blast wave, but the ancient stones withstood the shock. Like all other inmates, Scarlet had perished, but within forty-eight hours, he was recovering and was soon able to move about the place without too much pain.
He found some warm clothes and boots and raided the kitchen for something to eat and drink; retrometabolising was the one thing that gave him a hell of an appetite. Then, for the first time in almost eighteen months, he was able to walk out of the main gate.
For a long time, he stared at the scorched earth that surrounded the fortress for as far as he could see. But it was only then that he began to notice the silence – a silence so profound it was oppressive. He ran to the middle of the bridge that led to the fortress and peered over the parapet. The mighty river that had raced below the cliffs was nothing but a debris-filled channel of slime. There was a sickening smell of death.
Slowly, Scarlet went back inside and searched until he found the commandant’s office. There was no electricity, no radio or TV, but he found remnants of paperwork that must’ve been blown beneath a filing cabinet by the deadly blast of radiation.
‘Katania destroyed. Save yourselves.’ the shaky handwriting read, as far as he could translate, anyway.
“I wonder if there is anyone left, or anywhere still standing,” he asked himself, surprised to hear how loud his own voice sounded in the unnatural silence.
He froze as a familiar and hated voice replied:
This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Captain Scarlet. You and your people have now paid for your act of unprovoked violence against our peaceful complex on Mars, and your destruction was wrought by your own hands. We believed mankind to be aggressive and violent but we gave them a chance to prove us wrong. Instead, they chose to show their true natures and because you were not there to save them, they destroyed themselves. you failed them, Scarlet. So, now there is no life on earth, except you. and Captain Black. we are avenged. Farewell, Captain Scarlet.
Eventually Scarlet walked back to his cell. There really didn’t seem to be anywhere else to go – not now.
He sat motionless through the dark, cold night imagining, over and over in his mind, the terrible fate of his loved ones, his friends and colleagues. Picturing the billions of innocent lives – human and non-human - given in reparation for the reckless, unthinking aggression of one man. Captain Black’s order to fire on the Mysteron complex had indeed resulted in the destruction of all life on earth.
Or had it? Maybe somewhere life clung on? Maybe somewhere on this ravaged planet, some spark of life still glowed?
As dawn broke, he stood and shook himself, stamping his feet to get warm. He had a lot to do. He’d get some things together, maybe get a truck working, if not one from the fortress than from down in the village. And if he couldn’t do that, he could always start walking…
He’d scour the planet, if he had to, for that spark of life. And, if he ever found Captain Black… well, he’d decide what to do then.
It was a plan, as far as it went. It was certainly better than sitting and moping in the fortress for all eternity.
And, after all, what else was there to do?
Author’s notes
Inspiration comes from many directions and often around Halloween, which certainly has to be the most obvious festival for Captain Scarlet to make use of his unique gift. This year, inspiration came late but the story wrote itself fairly quickly, and I am pleased I managed to produce another entry for the Halloween Challenge.
My thanks go to Caroline Smith for taking time from her busy schedule to beta-read the text – and make some interesting and valid points about it. It goes without saying that any errors still lurking in the story are mine alone.
Thanks also to Chris Bishop for her wonderful website that carries the torch for the Captain Scarlet Fandom. Long may it continue!
This year has been so different from the norm and so very difficult for so many of us. I hope that everyone has been and continues to be fit and well.
My love to all of the Scarletinis!
Marion Woods
11 October 2020