Escape from Altera Ch. 02

[Note: This is not a "sexy story". It is a mix of WW II "The Great Escape" and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's "The Gulag Achipelago"... set in outer space)

Chapter 2: Interrogation

"Took. Idaho J., War Admiral, 5408224," I said, for something approaching the 50^th time. I had always wanted to be a War Admiral; if I were going to lie, why not lie in style?

By the way they were growling at me, my interrogators obviously didn't believe me. Or understand me. Not one of them spoke a word of System English. Which was good; it would buy me some time.

"Geblah blah!" one of them said accusingly. He wore the uniform of a Major of the feared Loyalty Police, with the trademark red bordered cap.

The Loyalty Police. They were answerable to almost no one. All Slurians, regular army included, feared the Redcaps.

"Blah blah!" I responded.

I received a slap across the face which stung. Maybe they didn't understand my accent.

It had been several hours since I had been brought into a nearby military base. Several hours. I must have been on this planet at least 24 hours. I knew in a general way that the attack was scheduled to occur in two to three days. All I had to do, then, was hold out for 48 hours. After that, I could tell them the truth. After that it would do no good.

It should be easy; it might take them days just to find someone who spoke League English.

"Geblah!" said the Major. A newcomer entered the room, a red haired fellow wearing a Colonel's shoulderboards.

"Sorry, I only speak League English," I said, with an ingratiating smile. "Don't they teach you anything in school nowadays? It's that low quality communal education system, you know."

The Colonel stood close to my chair and stared at me.

"My, that's a nasty scar you've got down the side of your face, chief," I said. "Did your laser shaver malfunction?"

The Colonel glared at me.

"This is great," I said. "I can insult you all I want and all you can do is stare at me. If we can just keep this up for another day or two everything will be perfect."

"I am afraid we do not have that kind of time," said the Colonel, speaking in flawless League English. I jumped. The Colonel smiled.

"Yes, of course we understand your language," said the Colonel. "I myself spent several years working for a Congressman on Greenfields," he said, now taking on a subtle Greenfields accent. Had he just told me that he had been a spy in the League?

I looked at the face, and then the uniform. This was no ordinary Loyalty Policeman.

The Colonel picked up a datapad. "Took, Idaho J., Battle Lieutenant, attached to the Command Carrier Glory, Battle Admiral Norman North commanding. Last known position: in charge of Beta Squadron, also known as "Took's Tigers". 74 non-cumulative years of combat flying experience. 122 years of age. You started using the anti aging serum at the age of 24, I believe."

I said nothing, but my face must have betrayed me.

"You see, we are not without our resources," said the Colonel. He started to pace around my chair.

I still said nothing.

"My report says you are one of the Battle Admiral's most valued pilots. But it also says you are a joker, a foolish one," said the Colonel, standing behind me. He clamped his arms on my shoulders, and reached down close, so his mouth was next to my left ear.

"I do not suffer fools lightly."

I took a deep breath, and then he was walking around to face me again. "We are aware of the imminent attack of your fleet. We know the details."

"Then you won't be needing me," I said, starting to get up.

One of the husky guards standing by my chair raised his blaster. I slowly sat back down.

The Colonel looked bored. "We just want some minor confirmation. What is the Glory's current location?"

I said nothing. Obviously, he didn't know where the Glory was.

The Colonel leaned down so he was at eye level with me. "I don't like to ask twice."

"Took," I said. "Idaho J. Battle Lieutenant, 54-"

I yelled as I was shot in the back by a blaster. It was set to low power, or else I would have been dead. My left shoulder blade felt like it was on fire.

That was just the beginning. For the next few hours I was tortured mercilessly. I was shot repeatedly, beaten, shot, and interrogated. But my answers were always the same.

"Took. Idaho J-" I would rarely get to my serial number before the attack would begin again. I ached all over my body. I thought I would pass out from the pain.

"I will ask again," said the Colonel. "Where is the Glory?"

"I... I..." I gasped, trying to stall for time. The Colonel nodded. The guard raised his blaster.

"Stop!" said a new voice. It came from behind me, so I couldn't see who it was.

But the Colonel could. His face whitened. Even in my debilitated state, a small piece of my brain found this interesting. Who could get this kind of reaction from a Redcap Colonel?

A man in an all black uniform stepped into view. The uniform was made of some kind of material that stood up on its own, and came complete with high collars. My mind stuttered on neutral; where had I read about such uniforms before?

"Major," gasped the Colonel, saluting.

Since when did a colonel salute a major? Especially a Loyalty Officer. Who did even the Loyalty police fear?

The Major, the man in black, said, "What have you been doing?"

"Interrogating-"

"Fool!" said the Major. "You will kill him before you get anything useful." The Major turned to look at me. He stared at me with dead eyes.

"My hero," I mumbled.

The Major grabbed my jaw. "You think I have come to rescue you, Idaho Took? Do you know where I am from?"

I shook my head; like the rest of my body, it hurt. I couldn't think straight.

"Then obviously you have never heard of Special Tasks."

Special Tasks. The elite infiltration and assassination unit of the Slurian Secret Police. Even the Redcaps were afraid of them.

I looked at the Major with obvious fear in my eyes. I found myself trembling.

"I see you have heard of us," said the Major pleasantly. His eyes flickered to the Colonel. "Leave us."

The Colonel left without saying another word, taking his guards with him. Now, if I could untie myself from the chair, all I would have to do is overpower the Special Tasks Major to escape. Ha, ha.

"What shall we talk about?" said the Major, giving a small smile.

"How about the weather?" I croaked.

It was then I noticed that the Major was carrying a small case. He opened it, taking out something. "Unfortunately, I do not have time to banter with you. Even more unfortunately, we are not near one of our interrogation facilities, so I must make do with cruder means."

"There's a lot of unfortunate events going around lately in the Slurian Union, isn't there?" I said.

The Major leaned close to my face, and stared me in the eyes. For a moment he said nothing. Then, suddenly, he whipped his hand into view. Before I could cry out he had pressed something against my neck. I cried out as I felt a hiss.

In a matter of seconds, I felt my mind grow numb. Suddenly, I was unable to concentrate.

It seemed like hours passed. Meaningless words were said to me; I said meaningless things back. I had no idea what was going on. Finally, after an indeterminable time, I slowly felt the pain returning to my head, and things started to clear up slightly.

The Special Tasks Major was sitting there, entering words into a datapad. After a few minutes he looked up, and smiled as he noticed the expression on my face.

"Ah, I see you've returned," said the Major. "I could have finished this report outside, but I couldn't leave without thanking you."

"Thanking...?"

"For the location of the Glory. As well as your fleet's tactical plans," said the Major.

"You're lying," I said. "I don't know the exact location of the Glory."

The Major looked at his pad. "But you know where it was, and where it won't be. When you left it, the Glory and its accompanying fleet were near pulsar SR-52, waiting to launch an attack, were they not?"

I said nothing, but I suppose I looked shocked, because the Major gave a smile, and nodded.

"Your flight was simply a ruse to convince us that the Glory was nearby, as if we wouldn't notice that the Glory was using atypically long range Harmony fighters," said the Major pleasantly. "Of course, now we know the real truth."

I was simply numb.

"Thank you," the Major continued. "You've been most cooperative." He pressed a button on the desk. "Unfortunately, my ability to reward you is most limited."

I heard booted feet coming in the room behind me. The Major looked beyond me. "Take special care of our most cooperative guest." And then he left my field of vision.

The Redcap Colonel stepped back into view, smiling wickedly. "Be assured, we will."

They knew where the fleet was.

I had told them where the fleet was!

Don't panic, I told myself. Don't panic. I lay on the hard wooden board in a small cell. I didn't know the exact location where the attack would occur; my only mission had been to convince them that the attack would occur here, at Volvograd. But now they knew that was a ruse, and they also knew where the Glory had started from, if not where it was actually going to attack.

What had the Battle Admiral said? That the attack would take place in two or three days after I arrived at the diversion point. Let me think. I had eluded capture for about a day after I had been shot down. The 5,000,000 credit question was, how long had it been since I had been caught? I wasn't sure.

If 48 hours had passed, then it would be too late; the fleet would already be underway, and/or about to attack. But it didn't feel like two days had passed; had the Slurians been tipped off in time?

If they had, then I would be single handedly responsible for the loss of the entire fleet.

I tried to get some sleep, but couldn't. It wasn't the pains of low intensity blaster burns that kept me awake. I tossed and turned sleeplessly all night.

It was only a few hours later when the guards came for me. Another interrogation session? What more did they need?

"Come!" they said, each grabbing me by one arm. They force marched me down the corridor. What was the hurry?

Before I knew it, I was in a groundcar, surrounded by guards. The groundcar seemed to be moving unusually quickly. They definitely seemed to be in a hurry.

"What's going on?" I asked.

The guards looked away and said nothing.

I was taken to a landing strip where a shuttle awaited us. I was hustled aboard and even before we had reached our seats, the shuttle had taken off. As I momentarily stumbled to the floor from the hasty launch, I tried to figure out what was happening. Had the Battle Admiral's attack been successful? Were the Slurians now in full retreat?

Even if the attack had been successful, the attack had been planned to take place at least two sectors away. It was very unlikely that a victory there would have any immediate effect here. No, that couldn't be the reason for all the hurry.

We were taken to a ship where I was kept in solitary confinement for several days. Food was brought to me at regular intervals. Despite my best efforts to provoke the guards, no one said anything to me.

An indeterminable time later I was bustled into the shuttle again and we started to descend. Since I wasn't in the pilot's section I couldn't see where we were going, but I did notice the more relaxed attitude among the crew. Whatever had bothered them on Volvograd wasn't an issue for them here.

As the shuttle landed and I was taken to the exit ramp, I felt a strong gust of cold air. I instinctively shivered and my eyes stung as I tried to refocus.

The environment around me was white. There was snow everywhere; on the ground, on top of the buildings, in the air. We had landed in the middle of a snowstorm on... where?

The Slurians were notorious for locating their prison and labor camps on inhospitable worlds. Perhaps this was one of them.

I was put into a groundcar and taken for a drive. In short order we arrived at what looked like a military base. I was put into solitary again.

It was several hours later when the guards called on me again. I was taken to an office where another Redcap awaited me. This time it was a Major, but a woman. Even from behind the desk I could see that she was attractive. Blonde, with a good figure. She glanced up at me and nodded for me to take a seat.

"So here we have the famous League spy," she said, in accented English.

"I get good press," I said, hoping to throw her off-balance immediately.

She stood up and moved around the desk, and I saw that she really did fill her uniform quite well, large Slurian breasts being a cultural trademark of the communitarian regime.

"You find me attractive?" she said, obviously noticing my stare.

"In a clinical, black widow-spider kind of way, maybe," I said. "Why don't we go out, get a cup of borsch-"

My words were cut off by the Major slapping my face.

"Do not toy with me, League swine!" she said, her eyes flaring. "Your name!"

"If I'm so famous, don't you already know it?"

She slapped me again, harder. "Your name!"

That really stung.

"Idaho J. Took."

"Your rank!"

I let her lead me through all the basic details. She started asking mundane details about my personal life, the names of my parents, where I grew up, where I went to school, when I enlisted in the space forces, things like that. I was too tired to resist. There didn't seem to be any harm in telling her these things, and I had to reserve my strength to resist for the important things.

Her questioning became more and more specific. What was the first ship I had been posted to? What had I majored in in the Academy? I still didn't see any harm in telling her these things, but wondered where she was leading with this.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the questioning stopped.

"Take him back to his cell," the Major said.

"That's it?" I said, getting up uncertainly.

"For now," said the Major.

I was taken back to the cell, where a cup of water and three tasteless slices of bread awaited me. This, evidently, was dinner.

The next morning I was summoned back for another interrogation. I noticed the Major was asking the same questions again: Name, rank, etc.

"Perhaps I can save some time if you just check your notes from yesterday," I said hopefully.

"Silence!" she said, slapping me across the face. "Are you telling me how to do my job?"

I looked down, admiring her tight fitting pants. "No, just making a suggestion."

"You are in no position to make suggestions," said the Major. "Now, what was your mission?"

"To attack Volvograd," I said. That should have been obvious, by now.

The Major slapped me again. "Your real mission."

"That was my real mission-"

"You are a spy. What was your mission here?" she demanded.

"I'm a talent scout for a holomodeling agency." I asked. "Are you looking for a new line of work? I think you have the legs for it."

She slapped me again. "You think this is a joke?"

I smiled prettily.

"You think because I am a woman I will go easy on you?"

I said nothing.

She moved closer to me. She matched eyes with mine. Slowly she sat down in my lap, her legs straddling mine. She put her arms around me. She moved her lips close to mine.

"Is this what you would like?" she asked.

I wet my lips nervously. "Well, I was thinking of something in candle light, and maybe some soft music-"

Suddenly she banged her head against mine, hard.

"Ow!" I cried as I felt waves of pain.

She slowly stood up.

"Things will not go so easy for you, spy," said the Major.

After another break, I was called back again for further interrogation.

"Let us start again," said the Major. She started asking me about my life. I answered her questions, but stumbled a few times.

"I thought you said you were 24 years of age when you entered the space forces!"

"I did," I said.

"You just said you were 25!"

"Did I?" I said. "Well, my birthday was right around then and-"

The Major caught me up on a number of discrepancies. I had said so many things that there were bound to be minor discrepancies; but that's what they were, all minor. Every time I said something slightly different, she would jump on me, accusing me of lying.

"You can't even keep your lies straight!" said the Major. "You said earlier you had six months of simulation training, and now you say a few months!"

"A few, yes, that means six," I said. "What's the difference?"

"More lies!" Another slap.

I had several more interviews like that, where the Major quibbled over small points. But her anger at those "discrepancies" of my past was nothing compared to her rage when she questioned me about the present.

"You are a spy!" she charged, not for the first time. "What was your mission?"

"To find out if you are a natural blonde," I said.

Slap.

I was starting to get ground down by these tiring sessions. She seemed to be asking the same questions over and over. The only reason I could think that she was doing this was to wear me down.

And the Major was getting tougher on me.

"Do you know what we do to spies?"

"I am not a spy."

"You are a spy, and you can be shot," said the Major.

"Under the Graftonite Accords-"

The Major slapped my face. "The Graftonite Accords only apply to prisoners of war! You are a spy!"

I said nothing.

"Aren't you?" the Major insisted. "You were caught in civilian clothing. You are not a Slurian national. The only people who wear civilian clothing are Slurian nationals, and spies!"

"I'm not a spy," I said, suddenly panicking. "I changed clothing in order to avoid capture. When I landed-"

"Irrelevant!" said the Major. "You were dressed as a civilian, you are a spy. I can order you shot right now!" She noticed my grim expression, and spoke more definitively. "If you do not cooperate I will have you shot!"

I started to tremble inside. I knew she meant it.

"If you do not cooperate, your next session may be your last. Think about it! Guard!"

I was taken back to my cell. As I collapsed into the plank/bed, I certainly had a lot to think about. I hadn't realized the risks of assuming civilian clothing. Would they really shoot me?

That begged another question. Why were they being so tough on me? The Special Tasks people had already obtained the most important information; they must have known that I was a pilot, not a spy. The Glory had long since gone into battle; whatever had happened, had already happened. There was no longer any useful information I could give. Then why were they interrogating me so brutally?

Perhaps the only way they could kill me was if I admitted I was a spy. But if I refused to say I was a spy, I'd still have a chance of being treated as a prisoner of war. It wasn't a great fate to look forward to, but it was better than being dead.

So in my next session with the Major I continued to resist. But she only got tougher. The next time I entered her office I sat down in the interrogation chair, as I had in the past.

The Major looked up, matched eyes with one of my guards. The guard kicked me behind the knee, sending me sprawling to the ground.

The Major nodded, and one of the guards pulled me up.

"I did not give you permission to sit," said the Major, her face giving a beautiful scowl. "Your name?"

"Took, Idaho J.," I gasped through the pain.

"Rank?"

"Battle Lieutenant."

She went through all the basic questions. Then she moved onto more detailed questions.

"What was your mission?" She asked, for the millionth time.