by Terry Mixon
Some of his people had reported loud noises deep underground at around the same time. He wasn’t certain what was happening, but he needed to find out. The survival of his people might depend on it.
At the soft tread of boots behind him, he turned to see his son Jebediah approaching. To his amusement, the young man seemed more winded by his climb than Mordechai himself had been.
“What news?” he asked his panting, sweating son.
“There are intruders below Frankfort,” Jebediah said in a gravelly voice. “One of the blocked tunnels appears to have collapsed, but only after allowing a dozen or so people through. One of our scouts used an old lookout post to observe their passage. Shall I have our warriors trap and kill them?”
Mordechai considered that for a moment before shaking his head. “Not yet. I find my curiosity aroused. From the horde activity, I’m prepared to grant that they might not be friends of the barbarians. Their story might prove interesting.”
He smiled at that last, but only for a brief moment. “If they were at that depth, it would take more than even lost weapons from the Empire to cause such a collapse. Who were these people, and how did they cause such devastation?
“Are they intruders sent by the computers above?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s been many years since we’ve had such an incursion, but if this is the beginning of a new one, we need to know. Use all force necessary to subdue them but give them an opportunity to surrender first.”
“And if they resist?”
“Kill as many of them as you need to break them,” he said bluntly. “Take no undue risks. My curiosity does not require our blood to be spilled to satisfy it. Find a good ambush point and make certain that they have no chance to sense your presence before you strike.”
After his son had departed, Mordechai stepped back out onto the balcony and looked over the ruined megacity that he ruled. The shadows of the approaching sunset were far below him, and the red light of the sun cast an almost bloody shade across his city.
He’d been born after the computers had crushed Terra under their heels, but he still remembered the stories his grandfather had told of the time before the Fall. The things he spoke of sounded magical, but impossible. If he hadn’t had Frankfort itself as proof that such technology had once existed, he’d never have believed the tall tales.
Seeing the world from up here never failed to move his heart. Both from the beauty of nature, and the destruction and loss that he could see from this very spot. Also the sheer savagery that those beyond Frankfort exhibited on a daily basis.
Would the events of today send the cruel warriors into his city? Part of him hoped so. Their dead from any such excursion would remind them of their place in this world. Their fear of his people kept his charges safe.
Mordechai sighed and turned to start his long walk back down to the warrens underneath Frankfort. He needed to focus on the strangers and the danger that they brought to his people.
They would make the choice between survival and bloody death. One way or the other, he and his people would deal with them as tradition demanded. Even if they surrendered, they would never leave this place.
Whoever they were, their adventures were assuredly over.
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Also by Terry Mixon
You can always find the most up to date listing of Terry’s titles on his Amazon Author Page.
The Empire of Bones Saga
Empire of Bones
Veil of Shadows
Command Decisions
Ghosts of Empire
Paying the Price
Reconnaissance in Force
Behind Enemy Lines
The Terra Gambit
Hidden Enemies
Race to Terra
Ruined Terra
The Empire of Bones Saga Volume 1
The Empire of Bones Saga Volume 2
The Humanity Unlimited Saga
Liberty Station
Freedom Express
Tree of Liberty
Blood of Patriots
The Fractured Republic Saga
Storm Divers
The Scorched Earth Saga
Scorched Earth
The Vigilante Series with Glynn Stewart
Heart of Vengeance
Oath of Vengeance
Bound By Law
Bound By Honor
Bound By Blood
About Terry
#1 Bestselling Military Science Fiction author Terry Mixon served as a non-commissioned officer in the United States Army 101st Airborne Division. He later worked alongside the flight controllers in the Mission Control Center at the NASA Johnson Space Center supporting the Space Shuttle, the International Space Station, and other human spaceflight projects.
He now writes full time while living in Texas with his lovely wife and a pounce of cats.
www.TerryMixon.com
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