by Andy Kasch
“I understand you believe you’ve devised a clever solution to the current galactic hostilities, Belle-ub, but I think it may be short-sighted, and any resulting cessation of hostilities short-lived. If the Latians or Dirgs win, they will very likely require as their prize a full disclosure of the technology behind the light weapon at Milura.”
Belle-ub held up a finger. “If they win.”
“That’s a possibility,” Brandon said. “I strongly suspect you will be unable to satisfy their request, should this occur. Then what?”
“Do not be so certain in your conviction that my explanation of the source the light weapon was void of truth. I only said it was an energy now controlled by the half-breed races, and did not specifically purport to have any personal influence over that control. Being as Milura is now mainly populated by an assortment of half-breed races, such a conclusion is entirely logical. This is, no doubt, why the explanation was accepted by the Dirgs. If it helps to put your mind at ease, I predict neither the Latians nor the Dirgs will win the tournament in any case.”
Brandon cocked his head for a second. Mip7 and the Latians had left the lounge and were waiting for the lift across the corridor. Belle-ub’s two companions were returning from the bar with a second round of Redflower-20 for the five Dirgs who had attended the peace talks. Good. That would give Brandon a few more minutes.
“You’re rigging the tournament?” Brandon asked.
Belle-ub glared back. “Certainly not. But polwar is a powerful game, and this is a fateful occasion. I trust the right party will emerge victorious, and that the so-ordained ones will solicit a proper prize for themselves. In this manner, galactic peace can be obtained. And if that peace proves to be unstable, additional tournaments can be held. We can settle our differences in the arena, as opposed killing each other in space.”
“Polwar is a powerful game, but an evil game,” Brandon said.
“What is evil?” Belle-ub asked. “Does a definable entity by this name exist? Each of us calls that which we have a distaste of evil, and that which we are attracted to good. There is no universally accepted definition.”
Alarm bells started ringing in Brandon’s head.
“The Erob law asserts the existence of evil!” he said. “What of the law?”
Belle-ub remained calm. “When all accepted the ancient law, then there was a universally accepted definition. The law is now archaic, and no longer regarded, as you have pointed out yourself. Intelligent beings now decide for themselves what is good and what is evil. We must acknowledge this, and cater to contemporary thinking, if we are to have fulfilling lives free from the shackles of war. Polwar is a new age reality, and its power can be used to promote peaceful coexistence. Be careful about your stringent allegiance to your personal interpretation of ancient ways. It may lead you to unnecessary conflict, and Earthlings are not even an Erob coalition member.”
“Do you believe in Erob continuance?” Brandon asked.
Belle-ub glanced behind him before answering.
“If the Erobs still exist, where are they? Modern problems require solutions from innovative, modern leaders.”
“There was peace for 2,000 years,” Brandon said. “Societies collapsed and interstellar wars began only after forsaking the law became fashionable, and this trend is solely responsible for the violation of the coalition agreement. You cannot possibly see this as happenstance?”
“I have no desire to debate cause and effect with you; only a desire that your mind should be open to questioning which is which. Brandon, it is time for us to go.” Belle-ub turned and rejoined the others.
As Brandon followed, his lightpad buzzed. It was a message from Olut6, sent to both him and Mip7. He wanted them to come down to the REEP bunker immediately, alone.
Two deck hands came out of the lift and walked over to the lounge, ready to escort Belle-ub’s party back to their shuttle in the upper hangar.
“I’m staying behind for now,” Brandon announced. “Belle-ub, please watch over Jumper and his two friends should they come back from their expedition before I return.”
“Most assuredly,” Belle-ub said. “I look forward to seeing you again at the tournament.”
*
“We’re not interested in your invitation,” the large, dull-skinned Amulite growled. He pointed a hand laser at Jumper, and was apparently the alpha male of the group.
The two mountain dwellers who had ahold of Totlen6 forced him to the far side of the clearing and held him there near the trees, while the two who held the driver moved him close to the edge of the cliff and pushed him up against a rock. So they were now triangularly separated from Jumper and Alan, who were still in the same spot where they were apprehended. Another native pointed a weapon at Totlen6, probably because Totlen6 was the most threatening-looking member of Jumper’s party. Their own weapons had been taken and were now in a pile in the center of the clearing. But Jumper knew that Kayla, Mulb9, and Lakor5 were still lurking in the woods.
Hopefully.
“The invitation is not from us,” Jumper said. “It’s from the leader of the new Continent-3 confederation. He requests representation from the Sinlo Mountain residents.”
“You were warned not to continue your approach,” the leader said. “This is the second time you have come to us uninvited. Now we must make certain it will be the last time.”
“What is your name?” Jumper quickly asked. “Are you the leader here? Or should I be talking to someone else? I must speak with whoever is in charge, whoever speaks for the Sinlo Mountain residents.”
The leader scowled for a second, but then changed his expression to one of thoughtfulness. Jumper could see Totlen6’s expression also change from a scowl to one of thoughtfulness. That was probably as close to a pat on the back as one could get from Totlen6. Jumper felt he was on top of his game at the moment and handling the situation well. Everyone else in his party must have agreed, as they continued to let him do the talking.
Either that or they figured the one talking the most would be the first one the mountain dwellers killed.
The leader answered Jumper’s question.
“My name is Durmat1, and I can speak for those who live in this place. No one is in charge of us, but we are like-minded. We wish no association with you, your leader, or anyone beyond the mountain base. Not that any of this information matters to someone in your position. You fools! Could you not deduce this? Why do you suppose we’ve chosen to leave the lowlands and come up here? Now we’ll let all the flatlanders know they are unwelcome. I see you aren’t wearing your special suits today. Let’s see if you can still fly without them.”
“More will come if we do not return safely,” Jumper said. “A larger party, with bigger weapons. They will sweep every one of you off these mountains if harm befalls us. We are a peaceful delegation, only come to invite you to have representation in the new coalition.”
Durmat1 laughed. “You’re a clever Earthling, but your bluffs won’t work. Even should a party ten times your size come, they cannot dislodge us. We have the high ground, and can see all intruders coming from a long ways up. We know the terrain. I don’t believe another attempt will be made to disturb us after you fail to return. They would be met with weapons firing from holes and crevices above them which they cannot see or locate. Especially with these nice new rifles you brought us.” He looked at the weapon pile and then back to the natives who were holding Jumper and Alan.
“Throw them off.”
“You’re making a fatal mistake!” Jumper said. He and Alan struggled as they were dragged towards the precipice. Jumper saw Totlen6 struggle from across the clearing—but the native holding the laser on him fired it near the top of his head, stopping him.
A laser then shot back from the treetops behind him. It connected with the weapon in the hand of the native who just fired at Totlen6 and sent it sliding across the clearing. The two natives who were dragging Jumper and Alan stopped. Alan’s captor let go of him and scurr
ied to pick up the weapon shot out of the other’s hand. Before he could get to it, the laser beam came from the trees and hit it again, sending in spinning behind him. It stopped within Alan’s reach.
Alan bent down to grab it, let out a yelp, dropped it, and held his hand. It was plainly too hot to handle.
Two more natives ran out from between the trees and rocks on the left side of the clearing, both holding hand lasers. Durmat1 turned around and fired his weapon up into the tree where the shots had come from, but before the beam connected Kayla came diving out of it. She grabbed a lower branch on the tree next to it as she fired back at Durmat1. Her laser hit his gun hand. Durmat1 dropped the weapon and let out a painful yell.
One of the natives holding Totlen6 let go of him, then Totlen6 managed to wrestle the other one to the ground. In another moment, Totlen6 was scrambling towards the pile of weapons in the middle of the clearing.
Kayla completed her swing from the lower tree branch and was now up in the air beyond it, hurling towards the two new armed natives who had come out of the rocks. They both had their weapons extended towards her. Kayla shot one of them out of the hand that held it, and kicked the other one out with her foot before she landed in front of them.
The native who had ahold of Jumper let go and ran towards the pile of weapons in the middle. So did the one who had been holding Alan. But two laser beams then fired from the trail in the woods and connected to the ground before the weapons pile. The beams held in place, blocking their path. The two natives stopped and looked to the trail. Lakor5 and Mulb9 were slowly coming into the clearing, both continuing to fire. Lakor5’s beam was particularly large and discouraging, coming from his rifle.
Totlen6 reached the weapons pile from the other side. He quickly picked up a rifle and swung it back around at his two former captives. They responded by backing up towards the trees with a look of abject fright.
Durmat1 went for the remaining rifle on the ground, but was blocked when Mulb9 adjusted his beam to the other side of the weapons pile.
Durmat1 was not one to give up so easily. He turned and started coming at Totlen6 from behind. Mulb9 gave him a quick shot in the ass. That finally stopped him.
Kayla herded her two would-be assailants out into the clearing. One was holding his hand.
Alan picked up the hand weapon that he dropped; it was cool enough to touch now. He stepped in front of the two natives that had been holding Jumper and him, and held them at bay.
Lakor5 and Mulb9 stopped firing. Jumper casually walked over the weapons cache, picked up his hand laser and handed Alan his rifle back. Jumper then looked over towards the cliff and saw that the driver was still being held against the rock by the last two natives, who had simply watched the whole affair. Jumper fired his laser over the head of the closest one, sending a few rock chips scattering. They finally let go of him. The driver came over and retrieved his weapon as well.
“Now,” Jumper said to Durmat1, “can we talk sensibly?”
“Do what you will,” he replied. He held his injured hand against his chest. The other was on his behind.
Jumper holstered his weapon. “We won’t harm you further, despite your unwarranted aggression towards us. Assuming, of course, you stop all such nonsense now. We are, after all, visitors. Not invaders. As I said, we only came to extend an official invitation to send representatives to the polwar tournament. A player to play for the Sinlo Mountain residents, and someone to speak for them regarding the new C3 coalition.”
“We play here,” Durmat1 said. “We do not wish to descend the mountain and play with flatlanders. We left that life behind. We have no desire to partake in any coalition, or to be involved in Torian government in any way. We only want to be left alone.”
Totlen6 spoke. “Then accepting our invitation is the only way to assure you will be left alone.” He shouldered his rifle and moved closer to Durmat1.
“What do you mean?” Durmat1 said, taking two steps back.
“The winner of the tournament gets to choose their own prize. Anything can be requested that is within the reasonable power of any and all attendants to provide, including the host. The exceptions are requesting physical harm be done to others, or hindering anyone from returning home. Send your best player back with us to play to represent the mountain dwellers. If he wins the tournament, he can request that the new C3 federation exclude these mountains from their governmental authority, that the Sinlo Mountains be carved out and considered their own sovereign state. And that unauthorized visitors be prohibited.”
Jumper cocked his head. He looked at Alan, who shrugged, and then over at Kayla. She still had her weapon drawn and seemed to be enjoying holding it on the two natives she so artfully disarmed. She wasn’t paying too much attention to the talks.
But Jumper was. This was the first he heard about any of the details of the polwar tournament. The winner could invent their own prize, at the expense of all others in attendance? Including all the alien races, any of the local militias, or Belle-ub himself? That was pretty extat interesting.
*
“Their ship design doesn’t match any in our intelligence files,” Olut6 said. “We don’t know who they are, or why they’re attacking us—but I’d bet a year’s pay that extat Belle-ub character has something to do with it.”
“He just left,” Brandon said, pointing at the main screen on the far wall of the REEP bunker. Olut6 turned around and cursed as he saw the Dirg shuttle flying away from the space station.
“How many are there?” Mip7 asked.
Olut6 turned back and said, “Too many. And more keep showing up. They’re dark and hard to see manually. And they’re significantly more advanced than us technology-wise. This is serious, boys. Military and civilian targets on Banor are being destroyed, our citizens are dying, and we have no idea why. Extat, we don’t even understand what we’re up against.”
“Are we inflicting any damage on the enemy?” Mip7 asked.
“Sure,” Olut6 said. “Some. But not enough. Like I said, more of them keeping showing up, and they travel in fighter-type ships like our ITF1’s.”
“General,” Brandon said, “what exactly do you mean by more technologically advanced?”
“Well for one thing, they appear to have a virtual distortion field generator. Not physical, like every other known advanced race uses. It isn’t there one moment, and then it just appears. Some of our scientists have been working on that concept, but this race has a fleet of interstellar fighters already using it. And they’re coming at us for some extat reason!”
A shrill alarm rang in the bunker and a voice from the floor yelled.
“General, they’re here!”
Brandon, Olut6, and Mip7 watched the big screen. The three of them were standing on the upper platform, where Olut6 had commanded a similar space station defense 25 years ago as Brandon and Mip7 watched—only to shortly become involved in the battle themselves. Brandon knew they were too old for that kind of craziness now.
The screen showed at least twenty circles of fire that surrounded nothing. Literally nothing, as most of the stars between the rings were blacked out. The fires rings then dimmed and vanished. As they did, faint lights could be seen where some of the stars were blacked out.
“How many?” Olut6 yelled. “Get them on schematic on screen 3!”
A smaller screen to the right of the big one changed views. At first it was all gridlines, but then the outline of an object appeared on it. An oval-shaped hull was connected to two round cylinders on either side of it. The shape filled in with black but the surrounding area remained a faint yellow color with gridlines. Then the shape grew smaller in size. As it did, additional ships appeared around it. Eventually the scale adjusted and the ships became hardly more than black dots in the middle of the screen. It looked like there were more than twenty of them to Brandon.
“Two dozen, sir!” the voice from the floor called back. “They’re sitting just outside effective REEP range. I wonder if they kn
ow about it.”
“Tell the patrol to stay out of the way,” Olut6 said, “and let go with a REEP blast, maximum range.”
The voice on the floor objected. “But sir, they’re still out of effective range. If we fire now, they’ll know about it.”
Olut6 descended the stairs and yelled, “I want them to know about it. Extat! Fire the REEP!”
“Yes, sir!”
The screen went wavy for a second and then the dark patches of space could be seen vibrating. Brandon looked to the schematic screen and saw the shapes shaking and losing control. Several of them collided with each other. He looked back to the big screen. Three explosions.
“We got six of them sir! Looks like they weren’t so out of range after all.”
Olut6 took no time to celebrate. “Get four of the ITF1’s over here, and send in the boys!” As he finished speaking, a squadron of Torian fighters swept in from the left side and began firing. Some of the attacking ships turned to return fire. Others took evasive maneuvers. Three of them managed to fire missiles towards Cardinal-4 before scrambling, but they looked to be aimed wide, probably a result of having been jostled by the REEP blast.
Olut6 ran back up the stairs to rejoin Brandon and Mip7.
“General, where are the ITF1’s?” Mip7 asked.
“On their way. All but one. They should be dagging out near the alien satellite soon, and when they do we’ll split them up to have some better protection here. I wish to Erob we had more of those. They have an entire fleet of fighters with dag capability and we only have a handful.”
“But we’re defending our home,” Brandon said. “That’s a tremendous advantage.”
Olut6 shrugged in a manner that indicated agreement, but in a hopeful sort of way.
“Too bad we still only have nine ITF1’s” Mip7 muttered.
Olut6 frowned again. “You’re a politician, so you should understand why that is.”