Spectrum

by Samantha Mina

  “Thank you, Link,” I silenced him before he could start convincing me. Call it spite or call it pride, I decided if Lechatelierite didn’t call off the battle on his own, I wouldn’t suggest it.

  The water was unusually tumultuous, and there was something odd about the current coming in from the south. My shuttle tended to veer off-course. How on earth were the surface-riders going to handle it?

  “Scarlet, keep the surface-riders moving,” Lechatelierite commanded from the vitreous silica. “You’re easy targets.”

  “Commander, we’re fighting an unusually powerful current. The surface-riders will have a difficult time making a clean run.”

  ‘Difficult time’ was surely an understatement. I could already picture all of units one and two ending up like Apha.

  “Do it,” he ordered.

  “Commander, I must insist,” I responded.

  “Override,” he snapped.

  Flustered, I bit my mouthpiece. “Lechatelierite wants the surface-riders to start shuttle-hopping,” I said. “No repeating patterns. Keep it unpredictable. Sub-leaders, this is your moment. Take your units between crystallines one and two, however you like. We’ll be descending eighty-seven degrees for the next seven minutes and ascending at twenty-five degrees for three. Use crosstalk to prevent in-flight collision or hull-overcrowding. Go.”

  Immediately, my ship was assaulted by irregular smacks and thuds. I could follow no pattern whatsoever. We were as unpredictable as unpredictable could get.

  Now, free of the burden of surface-ride instruction, I returned to zooming out my eyes in every direction, searching for Conflagrian presence. I could see far beyond the range of our radars and spectrometers.

  There was nothing in sight.

  But, something nagged at the corner of my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to write off the crazy current as just another summer storm. There was something strange about the appearance of the waves and ice-blocks themselves. They were too defined, too perfectly formed. And, too rhythmic. They were evenly spaced, like polka dots on a wrinkled sheet. My heart thudded.

  “Units one and two, fire at the icebergs while maintaining your irregular motion,” I ordered, suddenly. “Units ten and eleven, surface and use the spin-toss to attack the oncoming tide.”

  “Wait, what?” Arrhyth breathed, bewildered.

  “July?” Dither asked.

  “Do it!” I snapped, sounding a lot like Lechatelierite.

  Heeding my own orders, I aimed my crosshair at the ice-chunk nearest to me and fired. With a thunderous rumble, the front of it turned to light. As the flash died down, a half-demolished, auburn vessel became apparent. My suspicions were confirmed: the Conflagrians were magically camouflaging their ships to make a covert advance. And, they allotted a portion of their spectrum to tampering with our radars and spectrometers, deleting their presence. It was something I might’ve thought of, if I were commanding the System Water Forces—except I wouldn’t’ve kept the camouflaged vessels in a visible formation. This battle plan reminded me of when I snuck into the Alliance Conference, using my eye-magic to edit myself from sight. I could think like the mages—to assess their abilities and decipher their likely actions—because I was one myself.

  Lechatelierite ordered the units riding with him to dive from the vitreous silica, opening fire as they dropped. The air was soon speckled with dozens of falling, firing bodies, fluttering into the sea like salt into a soup-bowl. Some unlucky divers wound up landing on the hidden ships; I could see them shudder upon impact. If it weren’t for the arrhythmic suits, they probably would’ve broken their backs or necks. Explosions resounded from every angle. As the disguised Conflagrian ships burst apart, it looked like the sea itself were on fire. All the while, I called out instructions, aimed at our invisible attackers, caught surface-riders and coordinated with the other unit leaders.

  “Units three through nine,” Lechatelierite’s voice came on the intercom, “beware of every iceberg and wave, especially if it appears to be part of a pattern. Time your dives appropriately.”

  Lechatelierite himself, weapon in hand, now dove from the manta ray, literally taking out one ship per second. The Conflagrians must’ve noticed what an extraordinary amount of havoc this one soldier was wreaking, because a lot of turrets then turned to him. Soon enough, he got nicked, and the back of his diving suit went up in flames. I held my breath as I watched his blazing figure tumble toward the water. Even as he burned, he continued firing, aim extraordinary. A second later, he slipped into the sea and the flames extinguished.

  I was so distracted watching the Commander dive, I didn’t notice there was a dragon ship tailing me until my engine got hit. My shuttle, luckily bearing no surface-riders at the time, began to whirl violently.

  An oddly-familiar glimmer appeared in the distance, heading straight for my out-of-control craft. I’d seen that eerie glow only once before in my life, during a vision that involved Lechatelierite’s limp body twisting in the tide.

  “Attention!” I hollered to the entire fleet. “The Conflagrians are using the Underwater Fire!”

  I ejected, upside-down, plummeting toward the seafloor. In seconds, my shuttle was consumed by a single flash, leaving nothing behind but a whirlwind of frozen ashes. I lay very still on a reef, hoping to give enemy passerby the impression I was a fallen surface-rider. After they were out of sight and spectrometer-range, I kicked off the reef and began to swim back to where the brunt of the battle was raging.

  It was a long trip, during which my mind raced. No doubt the Underwater Fire required a whole lot of spectrum, which was in short supply these days. Why else would the System wait so long before unleashing it? Why else would their use of it be so reserved? They were probably waiting to see if they could handle us without it. They deployed it now, as a last resort. I also noticed that, for some reason, they refrained from using it against lone swimmers—they only shot at ships and larger clumps of divers. Was this just for the sake of conservation, or was there more to it? How could this information be used to Ichthyosis’s advantage, in future battles?

  When I finally made it back, I discovered most of our vessels bore at least a few singes and scorches. Repair and replacement costs would be hefty. The only craft of ours that remained totally unscathed was the airborne vitreous silica. Nurtic was putting up a formidable fight, nimbly dodging all skyward shots while simultaneously taking out his attackers. Hardly a bullet of his was wasted; his accuracy was remarkable. And, the Conflagrians couldn’t use their inexorable Underwater Fire against him because he wasn’t submerged.

  After three more hours, Lechatelierite decided the threat was neutralized and we were clear to head home. Nurtic brought the manta ray near the surface and dropped deadline, for us to climb. Lechatelierite and I were the very last to board, as we took on the task of rounding up the injured.

  If anyone doubted my ability to co-command, surely their reservations were eased by now. We wouldn’t have won without my early decipherment of the enemy’s plan. Though there were over a dozen injured, there were no Nurro-Ichthyothian casualties. I wondered if this could possibly redeem me in my own eyes for Apha’s death. Could I forgive myself?

  I wasn’t so sure.

  Cease Lechatelierite

  We won the first battle since the Nurro-Ichthyothian Alliance was forged. I couldn’t say I wasn’t surprised. We looked more like a raft of blind penguins than a professional diving fleet. It was the most shameful pack I’d ever lead into combat. If Scarlet hadn’t deciphered the enemy plan so early on, we would’ve surely gotten toasted. Literally.

  But, that didn’t mean Scarlet was off the hook, quite yet. There were many aspects of her performance that were disappointing. First off, she sent out the crystallines in a straight line, surface-riders sitting neatly in rows. Then, she was so afraid of a little current, she objected when I told her to get the men moving. When I overrode her stupid objection, she went to the opposite extreme and allowed everyone to pretty much do whateve
r they wanted. I watched in horror as they nearly collided into one other while bumbling through the water, nearly missing the handlebars of the shuttles. What a fiasco. It was a miracle all her surface-riders survived stage one.

  Not that my own task force performed much better. When units three through nine began diving from the vitreous silica, they didn’t time their jumps to avoid landing on any of the Conflagrian ships. As a result, seventeen soldiers were fresh in the hospital wing with brakes, twists and sprains. Fifteen of them were Nurian. Shocker. We would receive a batch of replacements from the Nurian Academy in a matter of days. Just what we needed—more rookies.

  Though Ichthyosis owed Nuria a lot, I couldn’t help but feel as though my fleet was somewhat weakened by their presence. There was a reason only five of my twenty-two officers were Nurian: Nurtic Leavesleft, Asu Acirema and Elijah Rain, who lead units two, six and ten, respectfully; and Dither Maine and Arrhyth Link, who sub-lead units ten and eleven. The rest of the Nurians seemed hopelessly behind their Ichthyothian comrades. While we were in desperate need of numbers, quantity still could never make up for quality, especially when facing such a creative and ruthless enemy. Unlike us Nordics, Conflagrians lived in a land void of the luxuries of technology; mages had to be resourceful and inventive just to make ends meet every day, let alone wage war. These sloppy, lazy, civilian-raised Nurians were simply no match.

  Scarlet had the imagination and spontaneity of a Conflagrian with the efficiency and precision of an Ichthyothian. But, she was also emotional and insecure. She lost composure when the System deployed its most dangerous weapon, screeching into the intercom and scaring the wits out of all the rookies. She should’ve kept her cool when disseminating the bad news. If the Second-in-Command yelped like a frightened child, how were the newbies supposed to react? She let everyone know she was afraid and had no control of the situation, inviting them to panic, too. What kind of leadership was that?

  I realized my mistake in all of this. By comforting her last night and allowing her to cry in my presence, I gave her the impression it was okay to fall apart in front of others. Scarlet needed to learn she was free to act however she liked in private, but once she was in front of her men, she had to keep a level head and lead by example. My mistake was that I violated her privacy. Why? What came over me yesterday? Why did I make her pain my business? Why did I feel compelled to intervene and try to make her feel better? I didn’t do that sort of thing. It was too stupid for me.

  With a strange tightness in my chest, I realized why. It was obvious; I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I did it because of my inexplicable interest in her. I was intrigued by her belief in the sacredness of human life, by her ability to cry for a soldier she never really knew—that drew me to her all the more. My interest was bordering on attachment, now. It was excruciating. It was dumb. It went against everything I’d fought for since learning my lesson with Inexor. Everything the Childhood Program taught me.

  I thought I had the discipline to keep my interest in Scarlet at bay. I thought I wouldn’t dwell on it, much less act on it. I was furious at myself for slipping up. And, it was a big slip. I hugged her. I actually put my arms around her. I never held anyone like that before. I pulled her head to my chest. Stroked her hair. Inhaled the wood-smoke scent I didn’t know she had. Worried about her pain. Wanted her to be okay. Enjoyed the feeling of her warm body against mine. Felt my own lip-muscles twitch as I wondered what it’d be like to kiss her. Had a hard time forcing myself leave her quarters.

  I needed to be more careful around her from now on. I had to. Not only for my sake, but hers. Scarlet had to learn to fight her own battles without anyone’s help. I had to back off and let her cope on her own. Because forging her into a fighting-machine was my first priority. Even if that meant breaking her. Even if that meant destroying the part of her I admired most.

  Scarlet July

  Two and a half weeks passed, in a flurry of battles. We won them all, but not without heavy losses. Each day, the score became closer. Each day, more divers dropped like flies buzzing near the mouth of a yawning dragon. Each day, I grew wearier and Lechatelierite grew more on edge. He and I received regular statements from the Trilateral Committee and the other two branches of the Nurro-Ichthyothian Military, each relaying dismal figures. Us divers may’ve been winning individual conflicts at sea, but overall, Ichthyosis was losing the war.

  It was now the morning of July twenty-fifth of the ninety-third age—the sixth anniversary of my family’s execution. I’d spent yet another sleepless night, listening to the incessant clicking of Lechatelierite’s laptop keys. I spotted him on the far side of the mess hall now, totally ignoring Illia Frappe sitting across from him, staring intently at a packet by his untouched plate. The dark circles around his eyes made the silver glow of his penetrating stare all the more frightful. I assumed he was reading yet another depressing report, which he’d pass to me, wordlessly, once finished.

  The System was still unaware of the Nurro-Ichthyothian Alliance. Respecting Nuria’s rights as a ‘neutral’—in other words, refraining from provoking a mighty superpower against them—Conflagria kept their naval attacks in the Septentrion Sea and the northernmost regions of the Briny Ocean, steering clear of Nurian sea-space. And, the alliance, on the defensive, rarely initiated attacks itself or tried to push further south into the Briny Ocean or the Fervor Sea. All battles were basically fought in Ichthyosis’s backyard.

  I was convinced that was the problem. I thought it was worth making the enemy a bit suspicious of our secret ally to strike further south, like from the Fervor Gulf of Nuria. That’d take the System by surprise for sure. For once, we’d be the ones thinking outside their box.

  But, my ideas were too ‘wild’ for anyone to take seriously. My unit listened, but didn’t care. They believed the secret of Nuria’s involvement should only be risked when ‘absolutely necessary.’

  Well, when would it be ‘absolutely necessary?’ Hadn’t we reached that point already?

  In a measly two and a half weeks, we’d lost a significant portion of our fleet to the Underwater Fire. All we had left now was one of the older, air-only vitreous silicas, two crystalline shuttles, thirty of the forty Ichthyothian veterans, twenty of the original seventy Nurians and thirty-seven even greener Nurian rookies, fresh from the Academy. There were only eight units now: seven groups of ten and one group of seven.

  Eighty-seven divers were left to carry the brunt of the war on our tired, beaten shoulders.

  Eighty-seven divers were left to stand against a ruthless army of magic-wielding warriors.

  Cease Lechatelierite

  I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t talk to Illia. I couldn’t breathe. Sweat beads broke out on my forehead and neck. With every word I read, the pH of my stomach seemed to drop.

  To the Leader of the Ichthyothian Resistance, Diving Commander Cease Terminus Lechatelierite,

  After sixteen ages at war with the South Conflagrablaze Captive, the Trilateral Committee would like to offer its sincerest thanks for your service in the Diving Fleet and lifelong commitment to the defense of the North Ichthyosis Island.

  We regret to inform you that the Alliance Committee, Trilateral Committee and the executive offices of the Ichthyothian and Nurian governments have collectively recognized the futility of perpetuating the current international conflict. To obtain the greatest possible concessions from the South Conflagrablaze Captive, we request your immediate surrender on the behalf of the Alliance.

  Respectfully,

  Ichthyothian Prime Minister Rime Gelid Ascet

  Nurian President Georgen Winster Briggesh

  Alliance Chairman Cartel Aliquot Juncture

  AND Trilateral Committee Chairs:

  Admiral Oppre Is Sive

  Commodore Rettahs Krad Slous

  I stared in disbelief. White-hot rage began coursing through my veins, as though I’d swallowed venom. Hyperventilating, I squeezed the packet in my right first and pushed aside m
y untouched plate of crackers and salmon paste. I put my left elbow on the table and held my forehead in my palm.

  Surrender.

  My chest quivered.

  End the war.

  Forfeit to Conflagria.

  No. Defending Ichthyosis was the purpose of my life. The reason I was born. The only job I had. Why I did nothing each day but kill and teach others to kill. It was the reason I was denied all the things the Nurians spoke of every day. Family. A home. Friendships. Love.

  Inexor died for this war. The only person I ever had a real relationship with was nothing more than frozen ashes on the seafloor. For what gain? For surrender? To submit our country to the tyrannical rule of a primitive people?

  Dizzy, I sprung up from my seat, sending my glass of ice-water to the floor. Illia jumped as it shattered. My knuckles went white as I clutched the packet.

  The corner of a sheet of notebook-paper poked out from between its pages. I pulled it out. It was one of Scarlet’s drawings from the review class, weeks ago. How did it get in here? I stared. It was an insane battle plan that involved dispatching from the Fervor Gulf of Nuria. I blinked, mind slowly digesting her delicate strokes. Of course. Of course!

  “Attention!” I called, pages dropping to the floor, atop the broken glass. “Leavesleft and Frappe, take units two through four on the remaining crystallines. Units one, five, six, seven and eight are with me in the vitreous silica. Breakfast is over. Move!”

  “Where to, Commander?” Arrhyth Link piped, eyes wide.

  “Across the Septentrion Sea, the Briny Ocean and around the east coast of Nuria,” I said, firmly. “We’ll refuel at the Fervor Station.”

  “Sir?” Scarlet breathed.

  I was defying direct orders from the Trilateral Committee and the Ichthyothian and Nurian governments. But, I was doing it to save them. I swallowed.

  “We’re attacking the Conflagrian Water Forces Base, in the Fervor Sea.”