by Isaac Stone
“Died a few minutes ago. You did your work well.”
“You don’t do such a bad job either,” he said to Kushmanda as he patted the tender area over his tunic. “Took me a while to stitch it up. You bullet went through both armor plates. I’ve never had that happen before.”
“It sounds like it’s time for you to taste your own recipe,” Kushmanda said as she slid the short sword out of her belt.
“I’ve seasoned it well,” Nagashi commented to her as turned his body to one side and brought the blade up into a high guard.
Kushmanda walked down the steps and faced him from ten feet away. She kicked off her sandals and felt the firm grip of the city street beneath her feet. Her short sword came up into the counter against his guard.
“Besides,” Nagashi told her as he began to circle around her, “we have no need of pointless ideology with our king. You’ll find service to him fulfilling if you come with me of your own volition. I won’t ask you a second time. Join me of your own free will. I promise to keep you away from those who would do you harm.”
She moved to intersect his pattern each time. It was a slow dance of deception and death. Each one moved to take advantage of whatever weaknesses the other might have. Right now, neither one of them could find one.
“I won’t ask for mercy,” he told her, his blade reflecting the moonlight.
“You won’t get it,” she promised over the edge of her blade, equally shiny.
“Is this a matched set of swords?” she asked him.
“Yes it is. They have been in my family a long time. I brought them here in hopes of using them for a duel. You have given me the opportunity. I wanted to use them against Proconsul Basepholon, but had to settle for knives. Shame on you for running our fight.”
“And you have never fought a woman?” she asked him. Her footsteps padded on the ground closer to him each time.
“Only under the sheets,” he snickered. “I’ve always felt the proper place for a woman was on her back.”
“The proper place for a Jacobite is on your knees,” she responded.
She watched his handsome face become hard. At last she’d found a place that was sensitive. Now to work it even more.
“Is that why you Jacobite knights always fight with your face covered?” she asked him. “Are you afraid to show it in public? Do you fear your children will learn who their real father is?”
“I will put this legend of Nagadurga Kushmanda to the sword once and for all,” he swore. “I’m sick of the little shrines people build to her. I will make certain your dead body is shown on every planet we conquer. It will be the perfect way to let people know what happens to those who oppose our king.”
“You talk a good game for someone who hasn’t even made a single cut,” Kushmanda told Nagashi as she moved back. “Are you afraid of me?”
The last one almost did it. The knight nearly attacked her and let his anger take control. It was what she wanted and he knew it. He moved parallel to her and kept his eyes locked on Kushmanda. There were no obstructions in this part of the street and he didn’t worry about bumping into anything on the ground.
Nagashi shot out at her with his sword held high; he swung it down and expected it to connect with her neck. Just as the swing came down, Kushmanda spun out of the trajectory and his arm continued to the ground. He broke off the attack fast enough to recover from his mistake, directing the energy upward and away from her. Nagashi jumped back and out of her range as she counterattacked with a strike of her own. She barely missed as he moved back.
“Not bad,” he told her, “I see you know a few moves.” The knight bounced around her and felt out Kushmanda’s defenses.
When he felt confident, Nagashi fired again, this time with his sword held back. The moment he reached her, he popped it out directly at her chest. Once more, she moved out of the way and the sword encountered air.
Nagashi was furious; she should not have managed to out-maneuver his strike. He pulled it back and launched another attack, this time with a flurry or rotational moves, which worked on every other opponent he’d encountered in the past. Kushmanda ducked under each strike and came up on the last one to nick his wrist. He jumped forward, blood streaming from his arm.
He attacked her with a frontal assault and she slid to one side. Every time he tried to over-power the young woman, she moved out of the way just in time to avoid the full power of his attack. No matter what he did, she was one movement ahead of him. Nagashi was furious, she seemed to be able to anticipate every motion he executed.
“You are so obvious,” Kushmanda called out to him. “I can see it coming from a mile away.”
Furious, Nagashi growled and launched another charge with his sword held protective across his body. He intended to come in low and chop up to hit an artery. It should be over in one move.
It was, but it was not his move that ended the fight.
As he came in low to Kushmanda. She rotated her sword to one angle and struck down in a direct arc that went through his left eye and penetrated through the back of his skull. Blood splashed on the ground as his body went limp. His sword fell to the ground. Kushmanda placed one bare foot on his chest and pulled the sword blade out of his head. It was painted with the blood of the Jacobite knight.
She wiped the blood off on his tunic and slid it back in her belt. Kushmanda slipped her sandals back on and walked over to have one final look at the body of the Jacobite knight. She sighed as she stared downwards.
“Your arrogance,” she told his lifeless form. “You own arrogance was what killed you. You thought that I’d been lucky so far. It never occurred to you someone might be your equal or better in sword play.”
She walked to the edge of the Synarchist Force camp and watched the troopers scramble to put out the storage unit fire. Nagashi had soaked it very well with fuel and she could smell the fumes from the distance. With no source of water, the troopers were busy using water provided for their own used to put out the fire. They were neglecting their own perimeter to stop it. She could understand why, it was very close to their own weapons depot. A runaway fire could spread and kill them all.
Since they were no longer a threat to her, Kushmanda walked back to the library. It was time to make that radio announcement.
Chapter 19
Kushmanda, short sword in her belt, walked up the steps of the library. She turned and looked one final time at the light from the flames and smoke which continued to rise in the sky. As she brushed her hair out of her face, she looked down the street where the bank sat. Eventually, if the troopers managed to put out the fire, they would look for their proconsul. When they sifted through the ashes, they would find no body and realize he wasn’t in the storage unit. They would find him soon enough, but it didn’t concern her at the moment. Kushmanda continued to walk into the library.
The interior was the same as she’d left it. The banner covered the three bodies. At least she would be able to return the banner to the JFA and fulfill the trust Commander Sura entrusted to her. It was still dark in the library and she continued in search of the radio.
She thought about the column of marines and refugees. Had they reached a camp where they could rest? Did they encounter anything on the way? Perhaps she would find out eventually, but the job awaited her and she had to find that radio.
It was right where they’d left it. Kushmanda turned on the power and waited for it to activate. After a few minutes, she decided it was time. She sat down in front of the radio and brought the microphone to her mouth.
Kushmanda pulled out the paper Commander Sura handed her earlier. She didn’t need it and it was dangerous for this paper to exist. She pushed the microphone away.
It didn’t take her longer to find a lighter. Kushmanda went outside where a fire was less likely to get out of control and burned it. When the ashes were stamped out, she walked back into the library and returned to the radio.
She checked the frequencies and made sure it was able
to send and receive. Kushmanda remembered any one of the invaders could be listening in on what she was about to broadcast. She decided it wasn’t a problem, since the information she was about to send was for everyone, no matter what the allegiance. She thought for a few seconds and remembered the astrological sign for her current hour.
She grabbed the microphone and depressed the “send” button.
“Attention,” she said. “Call signMancala . Prepare for a transmission.” She looked down at the transmitter. It was open and clear.
“Two different factions of invaders are no longer in a threat in the city of Parmesh. The first is a group of Synarchist Forces led by a Proconsul Basepholon. The proconsul was killed early in the day and his base is leaderless. His men are currently putting out a fire and are no longer a threat. They are camped in front of city hall and should be easy enough to eliminate. The second was a Jacobite knight who worked against both the JFA and the Synarchists. He was killed less than an hour ago.
“You also need to be aware of a group of JFA marines and refugees who are making their way out of the city. I’m not sure what direction they are headed at the present, but it was their hope to reach the nearest security camp while they had the opportunity. Please try and reach them whenever you can, they may be traceable from the air.”
“The final thing you need to know about is the heroic last stand of Aayda Brigade. Those of them who remained in the city after the marines left are dead. The served their world well and died in glory. It was their commander, Sura Singh, who did everything possible to hold the group together. She wanted to make sure all her people were remembered, as I am sure they will be.”
“Finally, this is for everyone who has suffered these past few months from the invasion. We still have plenty of them on our world and it will take a long time to eliminate them. Both the Jacobites and Synarchists want our home for their own reasons. They won’t get it. Their best were defeated this week by a small group of marines. We will not rest until every last one of them has fled this planet.”
“You all know about the stories of how we came to be on this world. Nagasha Diva came to our people as an avatar named Kushmanda thousands of years ago and inspired them to defeat the men from the North and build a star fleet to take them off Old Earth. We were all taught she would come again in our hour of need.”
She put the microphone aside and inhaled a deep breath. The next part was very important. She could hear the voice of one of the men in the white lab coats who told her how grateful they all were for what she was about to do. Then she depressed the “send” button once more.
“Holy Mother Kushmanda hears your pleas and is with you. This is her voice. I am here with you and the invaders will feel the wrath of my swift arms.”
“Jai Joytesh Kai! Long live Jyotish!” She turned off the radio and watched it power down.
Kushmanda brought the bodies of the Commander Sura, Tripada and Shardhula out into the streets and loaded them in a car she found in another building. It wasn’t hard to find it gas and bring it around. The Synarchists were still busy with their fire and she didn’t expect any trouble from them for the rest of the day. She pulled the car up to the bodies and loaded them with car into the back.
As she headed down the street, Kushmanda looked up and saw a VTOL roar across the sky with the emblem of the JFA on the side. The ground shook a few minutes later, which had to be from a bombing run against the Synarchist encampment. This area was about to get very hot.
She pulled the car up next to the river and took the bodies out. The banner was safely in the car, but she’d fold it up later and take it along. It took her a few more minutes to find wood and a fuel can. She soaked the three bodies in fuel and piled wood on top. So far, no one had emerged to watch, for which she was grateful.
As she looked at the bodies, Kushmanda remembered there were bodies of other dead troopers and Synarchists around the library and Education Ministry building. She mad a few trips back and piled them into separate groups. She even brought back Sir Nagashi’s body and separated him from the rest. They would have wanted it that way. She used the last of her fuel to soak them all.
Kushmanda lit the funeral pyres and watched them burn. More VTOL’s swarmed over the city as the JFA moved into position. They’d heard her message. After an hour, the fires had died down and she felt safe enough to push the ashes into the river.
She stood on the bank, bowed to the rising sun and chanted the ancient words. It wouldn’t bring them back, but at least their lives had meaning. If nothing else, they deserved it.
The last thing she did was place the tags and personal documents in an envelope and put them in a pouch that she slung over her back. They joined the banner for the brigade that was already in it.
The final act was for her to walk over to the ashes that remained from the marine’s pyre. She used them to draw three lines across her head. Kushmanda saluted her fallen comrades one final time in the direction of the sun. Then she began the long walk out of the city.
She remembered more of who she was an hour later as Kushmanda made the trek to her next destination. There were still plenty of invaders on the surface and this was just a skirmish, although an important one. There would be more battles to come.
She couldn’t understand why she had to be the one to do this. Had it been similar thousands of years ago on Old Earth? It didn’t really make a difference who she was, but who she was about to become. She might only have two arms, but they would be very busy for a long time.