by Tim Andersen
I had to think about it. It seemed like years. “We only met yesterday,” I said.
“I see,” he said. “I don’t like to pry, but---” He stopped.
“No, go ahead,” I said.
“It seems to me that when people have been through a lot together but haven’t known each other that long, there is bound to be tension,” he said.
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “What I mean is that, you have only seen her surface. You think you know who she is, but you do not. She thinks she knows who you are, but she does not. There is a conflict between what you expect and what actually happens because you cannot look deeply at one another. Such is the way with humans.”
“What would you suggest?” I said.
He took a moment to consider then said, “be patient. Do not take actions that are irreversible, and, most of all, let go of your preconceived notions. She is much more than you believe. And you,” he said, pointing at my middle, “are more than she understands you to be.”
“Oh,” I said. “But I think she hates me now.”
“She does not hate you,” he said, shaking his head. “She hates something that she sees in you. Is it really there? Who can say? Given time, she will find out and so will you.”
I was not sure what to make of his this advice. Brother Amor acted as if he knew what he was talking about, but he was not even human. How could he know about human problems? “I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Do that.”
Without realizing it, we had come up to the Abbey gates again. Brother Amor and I slipped through, and he went off to the Cathedral. I found Lika standing in the square with the Prioress and walked up to them. Lika stood on the opposite side of the Prioress from me and did not meet my eyes.
The Prioress took no notice and said, “Goshan, we have some disturbing news.” The Prioress looked at Lika.
I looked more closely at Lika. Now I could see tears in her eyes. “What?” I said.
“It’s the Trolls, Goshan,” she said. “They’ve attacked Earth.”
My eyes widened, and I looked back at the Prioress. “It’s true,” she said. “The people you call ‘the Trolls’ have begun an invasion of your home system. Come and see for yourselves.”
Chapter 6 – The Trolls Attack
The Prioress led us back up to the Abbot’s office, which seemed to be their projection room. Once we were seated, the light in the room dimmed through some unknown means. Rather than the entire room changing this time, an image was projected on the blank wall next to us---I could see no projector---where Lika had shown us the Amidan messages before. It was one of our official news broadcasts.
A young woman was standing inside an industrial looking building with uniformed people running back and forth behind her. Also behind her, visible through a window, was what looked like a huge rocket. Under her face was the caption, “Celia Green at Interstellar Ballistic Missile Silo, undisclosed location.” She was speaking.
“---standing here at one of our ISBM silos in the Kuiper belt. This missile behind me, built as Earth’s last defense, contains a massive matter-antimatter load and offers assured destruction to the enemy, but at what cost?” A man appeared next to her, wearing a military uniform. “This is Major Fredricks, who is in charge of this particular cluster of silos.” She turned to him. “Major, what are the chances that these missiles might be used against the Troll homeworld?”
“Well, Celia, at present we have been successful at repelling the Troll attack with conventional means. Not a single Troll missile or bot has made it to ground, and we intend to keep it that way. I think that it’s too early to start talking about antimattering them. Our diplomats are still trying to reach the Trolls and convince them that they cannot win this fight. We will, however, defend our homeworld with any means at our disposal.”
“Including the total annihilation of the Trolls?”
“If that becomes necessary,” he said.
“And what if the Trolls decide to retaliate with their own ISBMs?”
“We’ll just have to make sure we get them first.”
The camera focused back on the reporter. “And that was Major Fredricks of Sol Defense Command.”
The image disappeared and was replaced with another picture, this one of a burning forest.
“A forest fire ignited in Shenandoah Park today. The forest service says it has yet to determine the cause of the fire---”
The image paused, showing smoke curling up from the trees.
The Prioress faced us. “Your government is being deceptive with your media,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“That report does not conform to the intelligence we have gathered from your classified communications. This forest fire was caused by a Troll incendiary device that had been aimed for your capital. Your deflection grid is beginning to let objects through, and it is only a matter of time before one hits a major city.”
“Why would they keep it a secret?”
The Prioress sat back and said, “you are well aware of the general feeling in your population concerning the Troll people.”
Lika said, “if word got around that the Trolls were starting to hit Earth, they’d demand that somebody in the government stop it.”
“By all means necessary,” added the Prioress. “Your government does not want the people to force it into a situation where it has to act. They are not as confident as your military sounds that the human race would survive this conflict if it escalated. They are hoping for a peaceful solution.”
“But if that’s true then we need to get Tolan back to Earth!” said Lika. “He’s the only one who can convince the Trolls to stop.”
“I’m afraid not,” said the Prioress. “He must remain here.”
“No, no,” said Lika, “you can’t do that. You have to let him help. You can’t just sit there and tell me that he has to stay here and do whatever idiot thing you have him doing. This is my species we’re talking about, my home.”
“It is ours too,” said the Prioress. “We are very interested in your survival. However, we feel that Mr. Smith would be in danger if he were to return to Earth. For his safety, he shall remain here.”
I could not believe this. “What about your rules about letting people determine their own futures? You can’t keep him here against his will.”
“We will not stop any of you from leaving, including Mr. Smith should he choose to leave,” she said. “But we will not help you take him either.”
“Damn you,” said Lika, but the Prioress was serene. Then Lika said, “Goshan, give me that commtab.”
I fished it out of my pocket and handed it to her. She opened the flap. Under that was a white button, which she pressed. Nothing happened.
“It’s sublight,” I said, “it’ll take an hour or more.”
“Indeed,” said the Prioress, “much longer.”
“Why?”
“Your warship is currently defending Earth. It will take decades for the signal to reach it.”
“You!” said Lika, hands shaking. She stood up, facing the Prioress. “You engineered this. You meddling. . .meddling assholes! You say you care about us. You even managed to convince Tolan, but that’s not what you want at all. You want us all to die.”
“I assure you,” said the Prioress, “that is not true.”
“Fine!” said Lika. “At least let me go.”
“You?” said the Prioress and I in unison.
“Next to Tolan there’s no one who knows his methods better than I do. I should be the one to negotiate with the Trolls.”
“But Lika,” I said, “you could still be arrested when you get back. Who knows what Crispin told them about us?”
“I’ll just take that risk.” She stood there, looking more solid, more confident than I had ever seen her.
The Prioress shook her head, but then said, “if that is your will, we can give you passage back to Earth.”
I was surprised. “You will?” Lika and I said together.
“We believe that you would be better off remaining here until your master completes his study. However, you are free to go if you wish. Is it your will?”
“Yes,” said Lika.
“Then go and wait in the square while it is arranged. It will not take long.”
Lika walked out the door without looking at me. I started to get up and follow Lika out, but the Prioress called me back. “Is it also your will to leave, Goshan?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I ought to.”
“What you ought to do is not important. What you will do is. Let me offer you some advice.”
“Okay.”
“Great events are happening that will shape the destinies of species for eons. We do not know all that is to happen. However, we do know that yours and Lika’s fates are bound together in this.”
“Bound together? How?”
“What you two began together, you two will finish together. I feel strongly that, whatever happens, you should accompany her back to Earth, that you stay with her and support her. She may not admit it, but she will need you. It is partly for this reason that we asked for you to come here.”
“How can you know the future?”
“Past, present, and future are not as separate as they may seem, friend Goshan. In our long history as a species, we have learned to see this more clearly. The future is not as opaque as it once was. Nevertheless, we are not seers. What comes often surprises us.”
The Prioress rose from her seat and motioned towards the door.
Lika was standing in the square looking angry and pacing. When I stepped next to her, she looked at me curiously. “You’re coming too Goshan?”
“If you still want to go,” I said.
“What about getting arrested?”
I thought of what the Abbot had said. “Better a prison of concrete than a prison of the conscience,” I said.
“Oh,” was all she said.
“Wait! Shouldn’t we tell Smith?” I said.
“He’d try to talk us out of it,” she said. “I’m not his toady, you know.” She turned to the Prioress and, standing straight said, “energize or whatever.”
The Prioress stood before us then began to evaporate. She seemed to come apart like mist. She began to shimmer. The mist moved forward enveloping us until we could see nothing but red. I felt like I was falling through the clouds overhead, falling across the vastness of space.
I was lying face down on stone. I could smell burning. I looked up and saw the Washington Monument at the other end of the reflecting pool. Usually there were people clustered around it amid the Presidential statues, but now the Mall was deserted. Built to dedicate the fifty Presidents of the former American Republic, before its integration into Earth’s world government (the last nation to do so) and the dissolution of the office, one statue for each President had been added to encircle the monument. I was glad to see that the monument was still intact.
The source of the burning smell remained a mystery until I stood up and turned around. I was on the front steps of the Lincoln memorial on the edge of the Potomac. Across the river, beyond the tidal basin, I could see huge billows of smoke rising from Northern Virginia. Arlington was burning.
Lika was nowhere to be seen. I shouted her name, but there was no answer. She was gone. I could only think of two reasons why she would not be there. I had been there for some time, and she had decided to leave me. I thought that, no matter how angry Lika might be with me, she would not have left me so vulnerable. The other possibility is that the Prioress, for her own reasons, had sent us to different places. After all that talk about accompanying Lika to Earth and supporting her, she had betrayed me.
As I stood there, I noticed that the morning light was shining through the huge portico of the Memorial. Looking up, I could see Honest Abe’s face tinted orange. His face was carved with the kind of majesty usually reserved for gods.
I contemplated my situation, which, only the day before, had been relatively mundane. Now I was caught up in something so big, I felt overwhelmed. What would he do? I thought. In his own task, he had done whatever was necessary, including the suspension of habeas corpus, allowing the slaughter of thousands in battles of attrition and soldiers to languish in prisons suffering from diseases like typhoid and dysentery and gross malnutrition rather than allow prisoner exchanges that might swell the enemy army. I could not help but wonder if the Amidans were capable of that same type of cruelty in service of a larger goal. If they valued the human race as a whole so much, they would not fail to sacrifice lives to save it. If Lika and I were going to survive these events, I realized, we would have to look out for ourselves. The Amidans would not.
Standing from my elevated position I could see no other fires. I saw a flash in the sky, like a huge shooting star. I heard a roar so loud that I had to cover my ears. Suddenly, a trail of fire appeared in the air. Within seconds there was a massive explosion in the sky, and I realized that I had just seen an anti-missile battery take out an alien missile. I could not see the battery from my vantage point, but, from the noise, I suspected it was close by. It might even be in the river. I had heard that they were sometimes installed underwater to protect them.
My first thought was to find Lika. However, I could not imagine why the Prioress had set me down on the Lincoln Memorial in the first place, and I could not further imagine where she had put Lika. I started to descend the long row of steps, planning on going to our offices in the Fenn Building, which was on 14th St. about seven blocks away. I was part way down when I saw what looked like a small vehicle rolling past. The vehicle stopped and I saw, with horror, that it was of Troll design, a Trollish Bot, part of their legendary ground forces. It was encased in a hard, black shell like a Tortoise and bristled with plasma disruptors. I started to run back, to hide behind one of the huge pillars at the bottom of the steps, but it was too late. It had seen me.
It spun around and, facing me, fired. The plasma disruptor was a horrific device that burned its way through a person. At this range, I expected to be dead before I could feel a thing. There would probably be nothing of my remains but charred body parts. I stood there with my eyes closed for what felt like a long time before realizing that I was not dead. I looked at the bot but quickly covered my eyes. It was still firing its disruptor, but a force membrane was interrupting the plasma discharge. The light was intense and rippled the membrane that covered the entire memorial.
After a while the bot stopped firing. It was not powerful enough to burn through a force membrane. It was about to turn and continue on its way, when it exploded in a flash of light and a shower of debris that ricocheted off the membrane causing violent ripples. The sound of the explosion rippled through the force membrane and deafened me since I was still quite close.
A troop of armed soldiers came from the direction of the Korean War Veterans Memorial carrying disruptors and anti-bot rocket propelled grenade launchers. One of them called, “all clear.”
They started to pass when one of them spied me. “Hey you!” he yelled and all of them spun around, uselessly pointing their weapons at me since they too could not penetrate the membrane.
Still, I put my hands up in a gesture that I hoped would show them that I was friendly. Fear coursed through me. “D-don’t shoot me!” I called.
One of them approached the membrane, it transmitted the sound of his voice perfectly, “how did you get in there? This area is restricted.”
I tried to think of a lie. No one would believe that aliens had transported me there. The Amidans were not even known to the public yet. “I-I was unconscious,” I said, which was true, “i-in the basement.” I knew that the memorial had a basement that served as a Lincoln museum.
He turned to one of the others. “I thought they swept all the public buildings, Sergeant.” He did not wait for a response and turned back to me. “I’m Captain Zhang. We need to ta
ke you to a shelter. Are you injured?”
I shook my head.
He turned back to the Sergeant. “Call in and have them take down the barrier over the Lincoln Memorial.”
The Sergeant opened a commtab and spoke into it, meanwhile the Captain said, “do you know your designated shelter?”
I remembered having a designated shelter in case of emergency. All government employees had one. “I-I work in the Fenn Building.”
I felt the view between us change, the membrane had gone down, and the Captain held out a hand to help me down the steps. Once I was through, the membrane reasserted itself over the Memorial.
“Corporal Vasquez,” he said, turning to another soldier, who, through all the gear, appeared to be a woman, “take this man to the Fenn Building Shelter.”
“Yes sir,” said the Corporal and moved next to me, hefting her plasma rifle.
“And keep a sharp eye out for bots,” he said, as she led me away towards the reflecting pool.
“What the hell’s been happening here?”
The Corporal looked at me. Under the helmet, I was astonished at how young she was, barely eighteen. “You were really unconscious? You must have had quite a night.” She said this with that innocent awe that teenagers regard all those who indulge in nights of drunken revelry. She sized me up now and smirked. “I hope they have some clothes left at the shelter for you too.”
I realized that I was still wearing the Amidan robe, which had not been in style since the Renaissance and explained why she had assumed I’d been drunk. “I, er . . ." I decided to play up her assumption, “yeah, er, I don’t know how I got dressed in this.” She giggled, and I said, “how long have we been under attack?”
“Since late last night, the Trollies hit the defense grid with a bunch of missiles and decoys. They haven’t been scoring many hits till this morning though. That was our first bot. I’ve heard that some more have been sighted in the countryside. They parachute out of the missile decoys. We try to hit them before they land though.”
“Oh,” I said. She did not seem that worried about it, but I could detect a certain anxiousness, maybe even eagerness. Meanwhile, I was starting to recover from my near brush with death. “Is this your first patrol?”