Saurians

by Timothy Manley

  “Do it.”

  The space shuttle Atlantis floated elegantly with the ardent blue planet behind it. Captain Matsuotso looked eagerly out of the large cockpit window. He spotted the giant star, glimmering faintly against the backdrop of darkness. It was a true starship. The Atlantis spun and shifted to a different thrust position. Matsuotso could still see the ship, growing larger as they approached.

  She was larger than any of the others built. It was classed as a Battle Cruiser and bore the ancient name, Yamamoto. Matsuotso chuckled silently to himself. This was the test place for cooperation. A joint US, Japanese spaceship. The thought reminded him of those cartoons his children watch. What they dream he will live. The weight of the thought crushed him, and the image of his children forced a tear behind his eye.

  The shuttle's ohm jets fired, pushing Matsuotso deeper into the seat for an instant. The ship grew larger until it filled the cockpit window. They drew closer and still, the ship grew bigger. Matsuotso could finally see the small discolored disk that was their docking port. The Atlantis spun until they faced the Earth and engaged the ohm thrusters. They slowed their approach and then spun again, this time facing a large open door. The Atlantis daintily and slowly floated inside. The pilot opened the landing gear. Hooks caught all three wheel struts and held the shuttle stationary.

  Gravity slowly came to them, so slowly it wasn't noticed until it was there. Matsuotso climbed from his seat and walked to the airlock. The door opened and he climbed down. Behind the Atlantis the giant iris door had screwed shut and behind that door lay the vacuum of space. Deck crews worked rapidly to refuel the Atlantis as an entourage approached him.

  There were six men, each wearing white uniforms with red stripes. One of the men wore the chest badge of Commander. Matsuotso's face grew grim. New uniforms, new ranks, but still horizontal, still American. Matsuotso stood, his back erect, and waited for them to approach. On a ship representing fifty races with twelve language bases the one language required by everyone to speak was English.

  The group of six stopped and the Commander stepped closer one step. He was a tall American, with a crew cut of sandy brown hair. His build was blocky, with oversized shoulders. Matsuotso saw another cowboy standing before him, another one raised on American movies of violent individuality.

  “Permission to come aboard, Commander?” Matsuotso said.

  “Welcome aboard, Captain,” the Commander said in Japanese, a giant grin growing on his face.

  Matsuotso's frame softened. He laughed and shook the man's hand.

  “I am Commander Conner McKean, your first officer.” McKean turned to let Matsuotso walk first.

  “You speak very well, Commander. I am honored by your respect.” Matsuotso walked out of the bay.

  “Do you need a tour, sir?”

  “No, I have studied the plans of the ship.”

  “Then I shall escort you to your office.”

  “Prepare the crew, we will proceed on our first mission in five hours.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Sethilyl stood next to the giant redwood while Sylvan and Jeremy walked. She looked at the man, giant and powerful. The males from her world were nothing like this one. Many Pyrinni had travelled to many worlds. She had heard stories and seen rituals. Many had giant males. She had watched the films of this culture, and seen many violations. They were not ready for contact. She knew many cultures were restricted. But this one was excluded. She knew why, they could help. They were very much exactly like the Saurians.

  “You are troubled, Jeremy,” Sylvan spoke softly. She liked the giant.

  “It must be necessary for you to leave.” He felt bad, but he knew the President was right.

  “Is that the wish of your Council?” Sylvan examined a fern, fascinated by its primitive structure. She touched it, caressed it, and felt its song. A song so primal that it caught her, and threatened to take her away with it.

  “The council fears you.”

  She pulled her hand away from the fern and thought of her male.

  “The only way for this to work is for us to go alone.” Jeremy stopped and looked into Sylvan's oversized eyes. She had no pupil, just giant almonds. It made him nervous when they took their eyes out. Sethilyl kept hers in, she looked more human that way. It was as if Sylvan wanted no false images. She was ancient and powerful. He was afraid of her.

  “You are right, Jeremy.” She stared into his eyes, almost hearing his thoughts. “It was unwise for us to come here, but it was necessary. “

  “I must go with you, to be liaison for my people.”

  “That, too, is necessary.”

  “Major,” Horace's voice was calm but depressed.

  “Go ahead.”

  “They're sending us a new ship but it'll take ten hours.”

  “Why so long?”

  “Big ship,” Bone said in the background.

  “Those things are still there. It's like they know they belong to us and they're waiting for us to show up.” Horace was tired.

  “We've scouted here some,” Rawlings voice was not reassuring. “We've found a cave we can hold up in until they get here.”

  “Sir,” Horace said. “Ten hours is a long time.”

  “You've got someplace to be, Sergeant?”

  “No major, we're coming back.”

  Greenwich dawn greeted Plant with electronic beeping. He groaned and instantly sat up to avoid falling back asleep. He pressed the button and General Armstrong's face glared at him from the video screen.

  “What do you want,” Plant was already getting irritated and he wanted a cigarette.

  “The Pyrinni are gone.”

  “Shit.” Plant jumped up and threw on his clothes.

  “Yellow One has been authorized.”

  “What?” Plant stopped and stared at the two dimensional face.

  “The Chinese have three ships that are in range of this station.” Armstrong's face stared into the dark room.

  “What about the Russians?”

  “The Russian's have only one, we have four. Three are out of system, one is near Jupiter.”

  Plant stopped. He was shocked with the calmness that Armstrong said the words. It was if a carrier was in the Mediterranean just a day out under full steam. The magnitude of the reality struck him.

  “They've already communicated with Xiang on Earth.”

  “Computer,” Plant spoke to the ceiling. “Security code Reneg.” Plant put on his shoes. “Where are you?”

  “I'm in my office. Yanibitsu's been recalled. The President has authorized deadly force. We have authorization to activate the Yamamoto via tachyon link.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Alpha Centauri.”

  “How long until it comes home?”

  “A shift that distance will take ten hours.”

  “Matsuotso won't fight the Chinese.”

  “The President has activated your security force to arrest the Coalition Council. The Chinese may not attack.”

  “It's your order, Armstrong.” Plant headed to the door.

  “No, Plant, it's the President's.”

  Yamamoto existed in real space. She scanned the Alpha system, its A and B suns orbiting each other and out from that lay numerous planetary bodies, seventeen in all, with thirty five moons. She chose the seventh one and fell toward it, riding the waves of the luxurious gravity field. Yamamoto coasted into orbit around the moonless planet.

  “We've got a transponder,” the Tac-Officer turned to face Matsuotso in his chair and McKean standing next to him.

  “Give an IR scan,” McKean ordered, “and bring us into a very low orbit.”

  The helm complied. The glass dome that covered the Ops Bridge showed the planet as the Yamamoto orbited upside down. The Lieutenant at the Tac station watched the screen.

  “Sir,” he said. “You’d better come see this.”

  McKean approached, Matsuotso's face showed interest but he stayed in his seat. A large number of figures m
illed about the two saucers. They could make out some detail, but the figures weren't humanoid.

  “We've got aliens, sir,” McKean said.

  “Attempt to contact the saucer teams,” Matsuotso ordered. He climbed from his chair and approached the screen himself, staring with amazement at these new life-forms.

  The night was very cold. The men didn't light a fire for fear of being discovered. They sat in the shallow cave with the weapons pointed at the opening.

  The commo box at Horace's waist vibrated. He picked it up. “Go ahead.”

  “This is the Yamamoto,” the voice spoke back. “We are in orbit and have observed the aliens surrounding your ship.”

  “We're not on the ship,” Horace answered. “We're talking through the relay.”

  “Engage your transponder so we can locate you.”

  Horace pressed the code on his commo box and a light began to flash on and off.

  “We have your fix wait for a drop shuttle to pick you up.”

  “What about the saucers, Captain?” McKean asked.

  “We cannot leave them.” Matsuotso stared at the IR image of them. “I do not wish to destroy the alien life forms just retrieve the saucers.”

  “The saucer crew can remote it when they come aboard.” McKean rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Then have them do such.” Matsuotso went back to his seat and stared out of the large glass dome covering the bridge. “Report back to Earth of the situation.”

  “Captain,” Petty Officer Grant buzzed Matsuotso's comm panel. “Go ahead,” Matsuotso said, sitting up from the deep leather chair in his office. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  “Armstrong has sent a message.”

  “Pipe it through.”

  “Captain Matsuotso,” Armstrong's voice came across with no picture, just a security number the computer verified as the authorization code for war. “Strife among the Coalition Council as erupted in their loss of power. At this time control of the Coalition forces has been commandeered. You are ordered to return and take position in case of an attack against the space station or earth. The Yamamoto is authorized to use deadly force against any space vessel that does not give way.”

  “Bridge,” Matsuotso clicked his comm button, “set course for home and engage shift engines. Commander McKean report to my office.”

  “Sir,” the unknown voice responded. “We haven't recovered the second saucer yet.”

  “Leave it.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Matsuotso picked up the picture of his family and stared at it. He rubbed the face of his wife. His anger grew. An enemy that was against all and they couldn't stop fighting among themselves. He rubbed his eyes again and remembered a like occurrence in Japan during the Warring States Period in the sixteenth century. He hoped this one would be as unifying. He was a Daimyo now, instead of men and rice he had plasma beams and antimatter missiles.

  “Sir,” his office door opened with McKean on the other side. “Come in, Commander, sit.” Matsuotso smiled and offered a chair.

  “Something very grievous has occurred, Commander. We may be put into a position to fire upon our own ships.”

  “How?”

  “The Council is no more. The question is, do we follow General Armstrong, or fight for defense of the Coalition?”

  “Armstrong is who our orders come from. He works with the authority of the Coalition, does he not, Captain?”

  “With the defunct Council comes a defunct Coalition.” Matsuotso looked to a computer screen on his desk showing the three stars of Centauri. “Whose orders do I follow?”

  “How many have we received?”

  “One only, from Armstrong.”

  “Do we have to fight? We can shift back to earth and sit there, doing nothing.”

  “No, we must. Order is most important.” Matsuotso looked at his first officer, his face grim. “Even if we fight for the Americans. Prepare the ship.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  Three ships maneuvered into a line formation. Giant red stars covered the top of their hulls. Pulses of energy snapped and each ship produced forth a missile travelling on the gravity wells that permeated the system. The missiles raced toward the space station, disintegrating in a brilliant explosion that electronically blinded the ships for an instant.

  Another ship, the Eagle, sped past Mars, using her gravity wells to give a boost of speed, and fired missiles of her own, one at a time. They sped across vast distances of space at relativistic speeds, using the gravity pull of the sun to bend their trajectories and increase their speed on their way to the blind Chinese ships.

  Before the Chinese had recovered from the blinding flash of their close missile explosions, one of the ships exploded in an immediate flash. The other two ships fired defense plasmas, melting the remaining incoming missiles before they reached their detonation point.

  The space station was still there, undamaged and watching silently. A glossy black film surrounding the flat black disk glistened like dark grease on top of water.

  The two Chinese ships accelerated toward the moon, firing plasmas as the approaching ship rounded the blinding cover of the sun. The Eagle rotated in an effort to dodge the accelerated red and purple beams. The heavy streams of plasma slammed into her, erupting into sprouts of superheated flame that shot out into space. The Eagle returned fire with her plasmas, hitting and damaging one of the ships.

  Both Chinese vessels fired a missile. The Eagle's defense plasmas spat out, melting one missile. The second one hit and the Eagle disappeared in an instance of time.

  Rotating over the Earth, in her normal orbit, the Kronstadt cleared the sensor shadow of the planet, and fired a full spread of plasmas. The beams slugged into the damaged Chinese ship, pushing her into a spin before she exploded in a flash of light, and them sucked back into herself in the anti-vacuum.

  The remaining Chinese ship increased its speed and began to accelerate counter orbit, and sped around the sun. The Kronstadt put reverse power into its drive and held position over the planet.

  The black emptiness outside the view ports of the Yamamoto wavered and the ship shifted into real space. The ship appeared near Mars, off its major gravity well. In orbit of Mars was the remaining Chinese ship, hiding in the sensor shadow but still detecting the shift discrepancies on her sensors.

  The Yamamoto engaged her electromagnetic shields. The Chinese ship fired a torpedo and thrust into a higher orbit of Mars, bringing herself into range to fire her plasmas.

  The Yamamoto's defense beams melted the missile. The plasmas from the Chinese ship splashed off the film that wavered around the ship. The Yamamoto locked her plasmas onto the Chinese ship.

  The Commander of the Chinese vessel radioed a surrender.

  Chapter 9

  Kitean stood in his observation sphere. It was darkened all around, showing the stars and the single sun of the system renamed Laika by the Elder. Hovering in midair was scrolling text of data, information on the Out Fleet.

  “Magnify twelve five,” he said. One section of the sphere surrounding him wavered for an instant. Shapes appeared that filled the room, six transport ships escorted by four warships.

  Severe gravity ripped a hole in the fabric of space. It appeared as pitch darkness on the screen, the hole surrounded by swirls. Kitean stared into the swirls. Scientists said not to, but the shifting patterns called to him and caused his mind to tingle. The ten ships accelerated through the hole on fast warp, and it closed behind them leaving nothing behind to tell of its existence.

  Kitean clasped his hands behind his back, a posture he had adopted from the Canids after he discovered that it aided them in their thought. He paced back and forth, movement the best way for his mind to wander. His was a body used for action, he needed motion to think. He did not understand how the Elder could escape into his mind so easily. Kitean envied Krishnae and emulated him, wishing to follow in his stead, and as such took no female, avoided mating and drink. He saw the position of Elde
r as the guider of the Triconitae.

  He felt the power of the Triconitae. It filled him until he thought he would scream, unable to contain its wonder any longer. He felt small within his own body. Feelings of sublime wonder overwhelmed him and he fell to his knees in supplication to the truth of the Triconitae. His face stared into the glossy blackness of represented space.

  Already six Raisings had taken their place as named ones. The Expansion was truly great. But Kitean saw the end. He looked up from the floor to the point where the ships had entered the hole. Past them was a rift of empty space, and then a group of stars, unexplored. It was to here that the word of the Triconitae had to be taken.

  He had ordered probes there, but with no results returned. He feared that a new enemy was lurking, waiting. An enemy that he had seen only in dreams, strange creatures before unimagined. He felt glory for the biggest of the battles was yet to come.

  Three full generations of Canids had passed and entered Katsurani service. They could not have half citizen status removed, for the original Leaders of the resistance still existed. Rilaef-ch-kraouulf was one. His grandfather had served with the resistance and as such held a special place of honor with Rilaef. It was to his grandfather's name that he joined the Naval Academy. His grandfather, nor his father, had ever understood. He tried to explain the Triconitae to them but they didn't see past the old wounds, the old ways.

  Krishnae was a new messenger bringing the word of the Triconitae. They were taught their own history in primary school, in fact expected to know it and honor it. The Triconitae speaks of one's origins being most important and not to be forgotten. For ties with the past make the present. He saw the useless waste of the old ways, the wars, the disunity. Krishnae brought order, and expansion. One could find life in the Triconitae, it forbade disunity, it forbade in-fighting.

  Rilaef was a sub leader, unable to become leader, but still capable of serving. His first assignment was cargo, running vortex shuttles between the new system and the production plants. His ears stood straight, he would finally have warriors under him.

  Rilaef shook himself from his thoughts and walked down the stone path, shaded by the heavy fronds of the black flesh trees. They gave a particular odor that the Katsurani enjoyed and could be eaten by the Reggf with no preparation.