James Wittenbach - Worlds Apart 03

by Bodicea

  “So, you’ll fight until your stores are exhausted and have nothing left to bring to bear against the Aurelians in the viper’s nest that is their home. Leaving this ship, and our homeworld, wide open for the next attack.”

  “You were the one who was telling me I needed to stand and fight yesterday!”

  “Yesterday was before we knew that they had knowledge of our homeworld. Our first priority must be the defense of Sapphire, of humanity for that matter. Not to mention, there is a very real possibility that the battle here will destroy Pegasus, and that, above all, must not happen.”

  Conveniently for the dead man’s argument, the tactical display showed another explosion, below and aft of Pegasus. It was too far away for the effect to be felt, but the Aurelians were getting closer.

  “Wheee-e-e-e-e!” said Caliph. “I got another one! Yea-a-a-a-a-a!”

  She showed them the same data that was being displayed in the War Room.

  There were three Aurelian ships closing to within their own weapons range. The lead ship was ablaze and burning, its weapons would be useless. Pegasus sent out a brace of missiles to destroy it before it could ram her hull. The other two ships fired a volley of small energy pulses. Their power had diminished to negligibility by the time they reached Pegasus, but the ship’s were closing.

  In another battle sector, one of the violently twisting spikeheads was taken out by an Aves, but the energy released in its death spasm flipped the ship on its back. A readout immediately recorded damage and injury to the crew.

  “More of them are getting through,” the Dead Man said. “They’re driving us away from the planet. We can no longer protect the Bodicéans anyway.”

  “Are you saying we’re losing?”

  “So far, we’ve been lucky. You have very, very good pilots, as good as any we had in the Crusades, better even. Also, the Aurelian ships were designed for assault, they have limited self-defense capability. Thanks to these, we haven’t lost anyone. However, those spikeheads coming from the World-Ship will keep coming. Their reserves could be … far vaster than ours.

  The only way to defeat them is to use the Nemesis spikeheads.”

  Keeler had to force himself not to use that option.

  “You won’t do that, will you?”

  “If we use the Nemesis spikehead, we may ignite a supernova that would destroy Bodicéa and the Aurelians.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “It probably would,” Queequeg told them. Caliph had shown him enough of the world-ship’s energy core to know. “Probably.”

  “They’re dead anyway,” Dead Keeler told him.

  “Not by my hand. I am here to save Bodicéa, not to kill billions.”

  “Even if they are the Adversary, returned?”

  Keeler shook his head. “I don’t know and you won’t tell me.”

  The Old Man was approaching the fevered climax of his argument. “You can stay until you have destroyed or disabled all of the attack ships, but the World-Ship will not be denied its victory. It will lay waste to Bodicéa. The shape of the battle is clear. They can fight us to exhaustion, it will solve nothing. Or, you can fire off a Nemesis missile and kill them all, but you won’t, not unless you are convinced…”

  “… and because there are many more humans on the world-ship than Aurelians,” Living Keeler added.

  “You’re being petulant. If this were the Tenth Crusade, I would have you beaten like a red-headed step-child.”

  “Why would you beat a red-headed step-child,” Queequeg asked?.

  The tactical screen showed an Aves running hard against the two nearest Aurelian ships, firing the last of its missiles to stop their approach and finally making a run with its pulse cannon. Their energy beams swept and both struck the ship. Its starboard wing exploded.

  Tactical readout showed the crew was alive, moderately injured, and in need of a tow back to the ship.

  “There is one other choice,” the Ghost told him.

  His ancestor knew what he was thinking. “Run.”

  “Damn right, run. If there’s no chance of winning, and a big chance of winding up dead, running is definitely an option. We didn’t win the Crusades by dying every chance we got.” Dead Keeler laid a ghostly, insubstantial hand on the commander’s shoulder. “We’ve put up a great fight, but we can not save this world. We have to save Sapphire. If we take this fight home to Aurelia, we might be able to stop them from taking many more worlds.”

  Keeler sighed and remembered a quote he had learned a long time before.

  “Evil believes it will always win because good is stupid.”

  The airshaft was large enough for an adult human, but still a narrow space, and the sides were very smooth and almost devoid of hand-holds, not to mention festooned with leaves, debris, and the small, disgusting, and probably poisonous, insects that dwelt there. Climbing was achieved by bracing hands on one wall and feet on the opposite wall, wedging one’s self in between and working slowly up.

  Matthew was furthest up. He worked his way a little way up the last few centimeters, braced himself, and directed his legs toward the openings that let air in. They looked large enough for any of them to squeeze through, although a large Marine would have been screwed. He gripped the ledge with his hands and swung his legs through the opening. When his hold was secure, he pulled his body up and out. He braced himself tightly and reached down to the next person in the airshaft, which was Trajan.

  The boy reached up and took his hand. “I have him, Commander,” Matthew called down to Lear. He pulled Trajan to the top and drew him through. Together, they pulled Armatrading through the opening. She scraped her hand on the ledge, but for once did not complain about it.

  “I don’t know why we’re going to the roof,” Alkema repeated, as he emerged from the airshaft. “I know it’s a long hike, but the ground was still our best shot. There’s no where to go from up here.”

  His first survey of the roof seemed to confirm his hypothesis. There were no other buildings close enough to jump to nearby. There was no way to easily climb to the round, where there were assuredly more guards.

  “I think I know what Flight Lieutenant Driver was thinking,” Ex. Commander Lear said. “

  Pegasus must be looking for us. On the roof, their probes, their scans might be able to detect us, even without our implants.”

  “Perhaps, we can find some means of signaling them,” Alkema suggested. With what was an open question. There did not appear to be any loose objects on the roof. It was covered in a kind of scaly tile, with no properties that were evidently useful to their situation. It also seemed a little dangerous. There was no guardrail or even a lip, and the roof was slightly slick with moisture. All around them the lights of the city twinkled dimly.

  A shooting star flew overhead, a brilliant trailing flash in the midnight sky. In the distance, it exploded.

  “What was that?” Armatrading demanded.

  Alkema looked around. “I don’t know… there’s another one… and another…” He looked high into the sky, where in the distance, somewhere between the moons and the stars, little streamers were curling and dodging, and sometimes exploding.

  Lear looked up gravely. “It looks… like some kind of battle.”

  ” Pegasus and the Aurelians,” Alkema said.

  “Which means the Aurelians must have attacked,” Lear said. They could hear her unspoken predicate, I should have been there.

  Matthew picked his way to the top of the dome. He balanced himself and called out as loud as he could. ” Prudence! “

  He turned around, aimed his voice to the northwest where they had landed some hours earlier. ” Prudence!!”

  “Be quiet! They’ll hear you!” Armatrading yelled.

  Alkema called to him. “The ship can’t hear you, it’s twenty kilometers away.”

  Matthew turned around, and they saw that his command mask had re-appeared on his face. “Nay, she isn’t. Prudence!!! “

  The
air above the tower shimmered, and Prudence emerged from behind her holoflage shields. She made her appearance silently, but the wind seemed to whisper a welcome to her.

  “Kumba Yah!” Trajan exclaimed.

  “How did she keep up with us when our locator implants were deactivated?” Alkema persisted.

  “She knew where I was,” Driver assured them. He undid his sleeve and showed Alkema his right forearm. Scarcely visible on its surface was a thin ridge of black plastic and metal.

  “Before we left Prudence, I had the molecular knitters implant an interface strip in my arm. I told the Bodicéans it was a medical implant.” He showed where the molecular knitters had even placed a medical symbol at the end.

  “Good thinking.”

  Matthew shrugged. “I hate being separated from my ship.”

  Prudence dropped down low and opened her ventral hatch. “I think she wants us to get on board.”

  Pegasus’s range defenses were beginning to strain as the Aurelian focused their assault on her.

  The hammerhead missiles were now meeting the Aurelian spikeheads only a few thousands of kilometers away. More and more were evading the screen of Aves and Shrieks.

  More assault ships were closing, and more and more, the Aves had to focus on them.

  A spikehead came within striking distance, The phalanx guns on Pegasus’s starboard blade locked on and fired. Ten thousand deadly points of light converged on the spikehead, spits of pure anti-proton generated by the close-in weaponry. Short-lived but lethal, they cut the spikehead to pieces. It died, but in death, like some great hell-beast, it released a spasm of energy that lit up the sky, spread across Pegasus’s topside and shook the great pathfinder ship from bow to stern.

  “What was that?” Keeler demanded. From Caliph’s chamber, the effect was more of a shaking, and a roll of thunder. Explosions in space were soundless, of course, but the energy created some kind of resonance within Pegasus’s infrastructure that sent frightening soundwaves though her decks. In some spaces it howled and moaned, in others it growled and rumbled, and the hull shivered.

  Miller reported almost casually. “One of their spikeheads almost made it through. Minor damage to the secondary command tower.”

  He heard American’s voice in the background. “Aurelian Assault Ship now within weapons range.”

  Miller turned away and ordered, “Open fire.”

  Keeler again looked at the tactical display. Pegasus the starboard weapon arrays on Pegasus’s forward prow lashed out at the interloper. The Aurelian ship pounded away.

  Pegasus’s defensive shielding lit up in purple and silver as it fought off. The tactical display showed that what was getting through was inflicting nasty, albeit so far cosmetic, damage.

  Then, the Aurelian ship could take no more. Its forward section exploded. Pegasus continued cutting away at it until it disintegrated.

  We really are at war, Keeler thought. For the first time in thousands of years, we are at war.

  “Status of our Aves,” Keeler requested.

  “Nine down… two of them damaged enough to require recovery.”

  “Casualties?”

  “Fifteen injured crew, mostly on the Aves.”

  Keeler looked at the Old Man. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was right. He didn’t have time to figure it out. He had to act on instinct. It was all he had.

  This was a hard order. He had to force it out. “Lt. Commander Miller, recall all Aves.”

  “Commander?”

  “Stand them down.”

  “Without Aves, we won’t be able to stop the … the spikeheads, or the assault ships. We can’t do it with range weapons alone.”

  “Stand them down and prepare to leave orbit. Navigator Change, are you on this channel?”

  “Affirmative, Commander,”

  “Plot a course that will permit us to reacquire all outstanding flight groups as we leave the system.”

  Miller was dumbfounded. “We’re leaving the fight?”

  Keeler could not bring himself to look Miller in the eye, not even over a commlink. “We’re leaving this fight … and we’re going to take it to the Aurelian homeworld.”

  “The Aurelian homeworld?” Miller seemed as taken away by it as Keeler had been.

  “When I discovered the image of Sapphire in the Aurelian data-blast, the whole scope of the battle shifted,” Keeler explained. “Instead of a major battle to save one world, Bodicéa, I realized that our own worlds, our families, our nations, were at risk. We can not save Bodicéa, but maybe we can save ourselves.” That sounded selfish. “And the rest of the galaxy,” he added.

  “We found the point of origin for the world-ship,” Keeler went on. “We’re going to take the fight home to them, but we’ll need to be at full capacity to do it.”

  Miller was quiet for a moment. In the background, something exploded. “I understand, Commander,” he said finally.

  “But we’re not going down without a fight. How many ships have we damaged so far?”

  “One hundred eleven.”

  “That leaves about five hundred fifty. Prepare to launch as many hammerheads as we can as pass over the Aurelian fleet. Let Caliph plot the trajectory. I imagine they’ll need to be fired at exactly the right millisecond.”

  Miller had a suggestion of his own. “We will also launch a brace of Hammerjacks against the world-ship. That will keep them busy for years.”

  Keeler wasn’t sure what a Hammerjack was, but he was sure if Miller ordered it, it could do real damage. “Do that, then, and order our uninhabited Shrieks to continue attacking until they’re destroyed.”

  “All of them?”

  “We’ll make more. Use them to cover the ships with our people on board. Then, have them keep fighting after we’re gone.”

  “We still have people on the surface,” Shayne American reminded both of them. “If we go to ramp speed, they may not be able to catch us.”

  “Recall them from the planet immediately, and tell them we’re leaving. I’m going to PC-1,”

  Keeler out.

  Miller turned to American. His face was ashen white. “Well, you heard the order, Specialist. Send the Recall command.”

  American turned, and went and touched the call pad. ” Pegasus to all Flight Groups.

  Assemble and return to the ship. Command Authentication Code: Silver-three-two-seven-omega.”

  “I can’t believe he’s pulling us out,” Miller muttered.

  I can’t believe he’s taking us to that thing’s homeworld, American thought, but she had far too much good sense to say it out loud. “All ships sign in. Damaged ships first. Flight control will prioritize you. Maintain defenses. Pegasus out.”

  Efficiently, she touched another control. “Tactical Command to Flight Operations. We are turning Aves command and control to your sector. Please acknowledge.”

  “Flight Operations to Tactical Command. Hand-off acknowledged.”

  American turned her attention to the Shrieks. “I’m setting them to autonomous mode.

  Their first priority will be to screen the Aves against the Aurelians. Once Pegasus has left the system, they will continue to attack the Aurelian Assault Ships. They will self-destruct to prevent capture.”

  “Task some to protect the planet,” Miller said, weakly. Noblesse oblige, he supposed. If Keeler were quitting, there must be no hope. “Status of Prudence and Basil. “

  ” Prudence checked in with PC-1 five minutes ago. They are preparing to leave the system.”

  ” Basil? “

  Something split the sky open over Serenopolis with a cleaving light, as though all along, the stars had been nothing but pinpricks in a great black shell of night that had at last shattered and revealed, for an instant, the hellish light that lay behind it.

  Then, it was gone, shrieking across the bay and tearing up a wake on the churning waters as it passed.

  “Tobias, what was that?” Pieta whispered. They stood on the balcony behind Ciel’s townhouse.
Tobias looked high, high into the sky, at the little swirls and puffs of light, as stormy winds tore from the cloudless sky to chill and frighten them.

  “What was it?” Pieta whispered again, urgently, a little less like a mistress commanding her man-servant and a little more like a scared little girl.

  “I wish I knew,” Tobias answered. “I only know it’s something great and terrible, a sign that something horrible is being born somewhere, a monster that consumes entire world.”

  Pieta looked at him hard. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Tobias knew no answer he could give her would make sense. This was all far over his head. He had learned a little from Ciel, and more from Tamarind and Miller, but it was all so far above him. Aliens, world domination, legends, battles, perhaps it was the liberation that had been whispered about in secret for all these years, but he had never really expected to see.

  He shook his head, and looked at his daughter. There was only one imperative, one that had always been denied to him before. Now, Ciel, she to whom he had always submitted, was far away, and he was the protector. His daughter was in danger, and her protection was his only priority. “We’re going,” Tobias said firmly, in a voice of resolve he didn’t think himself capable of.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re leaving the city,” he told her. “It isn’t safe.”

  “Let me get my…”

  “You’ll take nothing. We’re going… now.”

  She raised her shoulders and threw back her head. “You can’t make me go anywhere.”

  “I’m your father.”

  “So!”

  “You will come with me.” Tobias said, and he grabbed her hard.

  “Let me go!” she shrieked.

  “I will strike you if you do not come with me,” Tobias told her, and thought he might just mean it.

  So did Pieta. She looked at him, open-mouthed with shock.

  “We’re going.” He said and pulled her with him down the stairs at the side of the balcony deck, down to the ground, across the land at the back of the house toward the raging sea.

  When he had dragged her clear of the house, he held up the small device, the size and shape of a writing utensil, and twisted it as Tamarind had shown him. “I’m here,” he yelled into the wind of the unquiet night. “I’m here. Come and take me!”