Genesis

by Lawrence P White

  “If your theory is right, I know what’s in store for me,” Cass struggled to reply as he focused on flying. “I’ll hang in here as long as I can. We have a long way to go.”

  “Someone needs to stay in command,” Greg said. “Let me drive.”

  “Not yet. But forewarned is forearmed. My worst injury was burns from a kitchen accident. The left side of my face, neck, and upper torso were badly burned.” He looked hard at Greg before adding, “It took my left eye as well. I’ll do my best to stay on my feet, but no promises. What about you?”

  “An old war injury that tore up my hip, femur, and knee.” He looked away briefly, then made eye contact with Cass. “I barely remember it. I doubt if I’ll stay conscious if that’s what the Overmind has in store for me.”

  Cass nodded and turned to his right, toward Ollie. “You?”

  Ollie blinked several times before growling, “My leg. I shot it off, which cauterized most of it.”

  Without needing to be told, Greg went to the medical kit and retrieved a tourniquet. When he passed it to Ollie, Ollie placed it loosely around his leg above his stump. A hard pull would be all it needed.

  Ollie, his eyes sinking deeply into his head, called out, “This is bad. Do not give in to it under any circumstances, even unto death. Our people might not get a second chance.”

  Cass called back his agreement. “Remember, it’s all in your mind. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s an illusion.

  Cass looked to Emily who was seated at the communications panel. Looking forlorn, he said, “I think we know what’s in store for you, sweetheart.”

  She nodded grimly. “I’ll hold up my end. I’m sending a running video to Grayson. If we fail, whoever comes after us will be forewarned.” She looked from Greg to Cass and said with her chin thrust out, “We will get through to this thing and kill it, whatever it takes.”

  Cass nodded, then tore his gaze away from her. “I have the con for as long as I can hold it. Emily, get a status report from our support ships.”

  As the first wispy streamers of super-heated atmosphere tickled the outside of the ship, the feeling of wrongness intensified for Cass. Without needing to look, he knew it was affecting everyone. “Steady,” he called. “Ollie, test your guns.”

  Oort fighters began lifting from around the planet, hundreds of them. Cass, concentrating hard on flying, still had the wherewithal to keep an eye on the tactical situation.

  Ollie leaned toward him and said, “Most of them will be out of position to intercept us. By the time they reach us, we will have taken out the Overmind or be dead. We’ll have to fight our way through maybe . . . 30 Oort fighters.”

  “With our 11.” Without turning, Cass called to Emily, “Advise our escort that we’ll only have to worry about 30 Oort. What kind of reports are you getting back from them?”

  “Everyone is rotating through pilots. Everyone has pilots down.”

  “It knows our plan,” Ollie called. “We just have to power through. Stay strong.”

  Suddenly, Cass arched his back and screamed. His hands went to his face as the skin on the left side of his face began bubbling. He collapsed over his left armrest. Greg swiftly pulled him from the seat and laid him out on the deck, not wanting undesirable steering commands going to the computer. Emily jumped up from the communications station and went to him, kneeling down in front of him with tears in her eyes. Her arms went around him carefully, conscious of his burns.

  Greg took Arlynn’s forward seat and resumed control of the ship. Cass spoke to Emily, the words bubbling from his mouth in gasps. “I need a moment. Just let me lie here a moment.”

  “No!” Emily said sternly through her tears of anguish for him. “We need you. Don’t give in to the Overmind. Remember, this is just in your mind. It’s not real. Your wounds are not real.”

  “This is real,” Cass gasped out between clenched teeth. When he turned over and lowered his hands from his face, Emily recoiled in horror. The missing eye wept fluid. The side of his face, chin, and neck sagged with red and black weeping blisters.

  “I’m so sorry, Cass,” she mumbled through deep shudders. “I’ll take over piloting.”

  Cass closed his good eye, going internal to gather his mind around the pain and corral it. It took a while. When he opened his eye again, he said almost breathlessly, “No! Greg’s up. You withstood the compulsion once before. I need you to fly the last leg.” He struggled to sit up, then she helped him to his feet and supported him. She lifted a trembling hand to the undamaged side of his face, saying, “Okay. Don’t forget Ollie.”

  Cass closed his eye briefly, then he stiffly turned his whole body toward Ollie. “You’re our gunner. You have to get us through the Oort defenses, then take out the Overmind, no matter how bad it gets. Nothing else matters.”

  Ollie glared at him, not in anger but in determination. “That much I know,” he growled. “I will not let you down.”

  The moment Greg sat down in the front seat, his ordeal began anew. The compulsion was affecting everyone, not just whoever was piloting the ship, but it was worse for the pilot. He could almost feel an evil presence leisurely sifting through his mind, a presence that was supremely confident in itself. There was no defeating the presence. No matter how hard he tried, he would fail. That was just the natural order of things. The right order. He somehow knew that if he stopped fighting this presence and, instead, joined with it and supported it, he would find fulfillment for the rest of his days.

  The Overmind tried to cocoon him, promising light at the end of his currently dark tunnel. It showed him clearly that he would have to fight his way through insurmountable odds just to reach the spire, and then what he intended when he got there was just wrong, so wrong.

  He felt a strong arm go about his shoulders, jolting his thoughts back to his surroundings. He looked to his left and found Cass leaning into him, his face only inches away.

  “Remember the mantra, Greg,” Cass said, leaning in close. When Greg hesitated, Cass said not as a request but as a demand, “Say it.”

  Greg’s focus blurred as his mind attempted to focus on two realities. “The Overmind is my enemy. It’s a battle of wits,” he said mechanically. “It’s not real.”

  The arm shook him. “Look at me,” Cass commanded.

  Greg looked into Cass’ only eye, an eye that demanded with a fierceness he had not seen since his days as a soldier. “You’re a soldier,” Cass said to him. “An elite soldier. You never give up. This creature is your enemy. You know that. You’ve been preparing for this battle your whole life. Don’t throw away everything you stand for. Stay focused on who matters to you: Arlynn, Emily, the rest of us, the Alliance. We’re counting on you to be strong. You are stronger than your enemy.”

  When Greg nodded and faced forward again, his lips in a firm line, Cass said, “Oort fighters are coming out to meet us. You have two jobs, only two: stay out of their crosshairs, and stay as close to my course line as you can. I’ll do the navigating. Ollie will do the shooting, but you have to do the dodging. Now get to work.”

  Greg closed his eyes and literally pushed thoughts of the Overmind away. He hunched forward in his seat, but his hands and fingers began doing their old familiar dances on the keys beneath his fingers.

  The outer escort formation was breaking up as individual ships went after approaching Oort fighters. Cass ordered them to pull back, to wait for the Oort to come to them. The inner formation stayed cloaked and in formation, though at a command from Cass, that formation tightened into a protective box around Cass’ ship. Oort fighters flashed through the formation, seemingly knowing the center ship was their target even if they could not see it. The Overmind must see the minds in Cass’ ship and be guiding its fighters, Cass decided.

  The pounding of guns shook the ship when Ollie opened up on targets of opportunity. Between him and the rest of the inner escort, they felled several Oort fighters in close succession.

  Suddenly, Greg’s mind deserted him. He wa
s unconscious before he finished rolling out of the seat and falling to the deck. Cass looked at him in alarm, staggered at the power of the Overmind. His friend’s right leg and hip was contorted into a shape it had never been designed for.

  “Emily!” he called in a panic.

  She was there in a heartbeat. With business-like efficiency, she pulled Arlynn and Greg to the side and took the pilot seat. Cass leaned in beside her and kissed her on her left cheek. She reached a hand out to his cheek in a caress and, looking deep into his eyes, said, “I love you, Cass. I’m so proud of you. Will you stay with me?”

  “I will, sweetheart.”

  “I won’t be your sweetheart for long. I’ll be an ugly, dying girl, but dying doesn’t mean dead. I know what’s coming. Stay with me and I will defeat it.”

  She settled herself into the seat, and her fingers began flying over the keys on her armrests, changing the size of the jump sphere, her jump point on that grid, jumping, then changing her speed and trajectory in preparation for a new jump.

  Cass leaned over her and kissed the top of her head, then he went for the medical kit. Ollie was busy, but not too busy to say, “I think he’s bleeding internally. Putting him into cold sleep might help.”

  “That’s my plan,” Cass replied.

  “It’s not a solution for me,” Ollie growled as his huge hands daintily executed firing commands. “I never accepted the LifeVirus, so the cold sleep will not work on me.”

  Cass’ single, bloodshot eye met Ollie’s sharp gaze, and he nodded. “Kill the cloak,” he ordered. “The Overmind sees right through it.”

  “Does that mean the Oort pilots see through it? It might be limiting their aim.”

  “I think the Overmind is controlling their aim,” Cass replied “I need you to be able to shoot unencumbered. Kill the cloak.”

  He waited until Ollie nodded, then he shuffled back to Greg’s side. Shaking his head dejectedly, he administered the cold sleep, wondering if it would be enough to stop whatever bleeding was taking place inside Greg’s mangled body. Greg was key to everything the An’Atee had been pushing for these past years. Without him, the Alliance would not thrive.

  The thought was only fleeting. His objective re-clarified in his mind. Reaching it was his only reason for being, regardless of the cost.

  Through the screaming of his own body, he had to wonder how any creature’s mind could be strong enough to do such a thing to a person. Was Greg really injured, or was all of this, as Cass had been preaching for days, just in their minds? When this was all over, would the injuries disappear?

  A lot less hopeful than he had been because of the mangled body lying at his feet, he went to a knee beside Emily and reached his right arm around her shoulders. His left arm was essentially useless. “How you doing, sweetheart?”

  She felt weak, and the weakness was intensifying. Her skin crawled as if it were shrinking. She felt weak and ill, a feeling she had grown familiar with on Earth. She whimpered, but she stayed at the controls and kept the ship on course.

  “Not good,” she whispered. “It’s growing inside me.”

  “The Overmind?”

  “No. Cancer,” she said as her fingers continued dancing across the keys on her armrests. Multiple Oort ships were flashing through the formation, inflicting damage with each pass. What remained of his escort was completely engaged, and one of his five escorts had succumbed. Ollie’s weapons were pounding away without pause. Emily had the ship dancing all over the sky, making them a difficult target to hit. Still, their shields were taking a beating.

  Cass was just about to take the seat beside Ollie to help with the guns when Emily said, “I’m so tired. It’s the cancer. Stay with me.” She shifted in her seat and turned briefly to him. “You have my permission to slap me if that’s what it takes to keep me awake. Only this time.”

  Cass shook his head. “Never. Not ever.”

  “I don’t have the strength to coordinate with Ollie.”

  “He’s been doing this his whole life. He’s compensating. We’ve taken out several Oort.” He looked up and studied the tactical situation with his one eye. He really just wanted to collapse to the deck, but he knew he would never get up if he did. His outer escort had given more than it received, but it was down to two ships. The inner escort was also down to two. Half a dozen Oort remained between him and the spire, and more were racing in from every direction. He believed most of them would be late unless the Oort managed to delay him. What new tricks did the Overmind have up its sleeves?

  Just then, Ollie bellowed. The stump of his right leg spurted blood all the way to the tip of the forward screen. He reached down with both hands tight around the stump, but blood continued pulsing from the open wound.

  Cass struggled to his feet and lurched the few steps it took to reach Ollie. With his only functioning arm, he reached down and pulled on the tourniquet strap Ollie had earlier placed around his thigh. When the flow of blood did not stop, he pulled harder, then harder once again. The flow of blood still did not stop, but it slowed to a trickle.

  Ollie’s vision was narrowing, and Cass saw confusion in his eyes. He shook Ollie’s shoulder hard and yelled into his face, “Pull it together. I need you. You can do this.”

  Ollie’s eyes closed. He clamped his teeth together and nodded. When he opened his eyes, his bloody hands went back to the armrests. His fingers were not as steady as before, but the ship’s guns began pounding away again.

  Cass knew that his escorting ships were fighting similar issues. The last report suggested things were not as bad on the other ships, but reports had stopped coming in. Or, if they had come in, no one had noticed. He suspected everyone was giving it everything they had, which meant there was no energy left for reporting.

  He went back to Emily. Balancing himself on one knee, he reached an arm around Emily’s shoulders and leaned in close. She just stayed focused on flying and did not acknowledge him. Her jumping around to avoid Oort attacks had put her slightly off course. He lifted his arm and reached across her to touch keys on her armrest, trying to make a necessary adjustment to the red course line on the forward screen she was following to the spire. His target area kept slewing around. He gritted his teeth and slowed his fingers, made himself take one deliberate step at a time, and he eventually completed the course correction.

  Emily was literally wilting. Her skin had become translucent, and her eyes had sunk into her head. Strands of blond hair had drifted down to her blouse, and as he watched, more followed. Her chin was thrust forward, her concentration only on trying to stay near Cass’ projected course line while jumping the ship to avoid Oort fighters.

  When Cass looked back at Ollie, the Harbok’s complexion had paled, but Ollie met his gaze squarely, his eyes bright and determined.

  “We’re almost there,” Cass called to him. “Should we continue fighting, or should we go to maximum shield and try to bull our way through, hoping for the best?”

  “I never concede to luck. Keep fighting back.” Ollie’s eyes widened as they looked beyond Cass to the forward screen, and Cass turned to follow his gaze. “We just lost two more escorts,” Ollie called. “We’re down to two.” His eyes narrowed, and he added, “One of the crews ejected. The Oort don’t seem to be going after the escape pod. It tells us the Overmind is only going after immediate threats.”

  Cass nodded, then he went to the communications panel. He made a brief announcement of encouragement to his two remaining escorts, not expecting a reply. To his amazement, a brief reply came back from a Harbok captain.

  “We’re of one mind here, Cass. End this creature. Make our sacrifices count.”

  Cass’ eyes went vacant for a time. When he looked back at Ollie, neither of them felt the need to speak.

  He returned to Emily’s side with his only functioning arm across her shoulders. He spoke into her ear without pause. Emily was straining forward, fully concentrating on flying the ship. Only a few strands of hair remained on her skull. Her eye
brows and eyelashes were gone. She turned briefly to smile at him, but all he could focus on was the blood seeping through her gums.

  “Almost there,” he said softly. She turned back to the forward screen and focused on her flying.

  Cass studied the display and counted four Oort fighters between them and the spire, and two more closing from the side and slightly astern. Many more Oort were converging on the spire, but they were far enough out that he would beat them. Then, to his amazement, Alliance fighters materialized in an arc behind him, all of them out of firing range but definitely positioned to ward off the distant Oort fighters.

  Nevertheless, his small force would only succeed if at least one of them had time to attack the spire when it got there. If that one ship was him, he would need immediate backup to hold off the two Oort coming from the sides.

  He knew that Alliance ships were better than the Oort, but he still did not like the odds. His lips firmed: he only had one option remaining.

  He called back to Ollie. “We’re going straight for the target. No more dodging.” He lurched over to the communications panel and announced the same to his remaining escort, then he lurched back to Emily’s side.

  “New plan, sweetheart. Straight for the target, fast as you can go. No more jumping.”

  She turned desperate eyes to him, nodded, then put her head down and her chin out, her focus only on the red course line now.

  One Oort fighter died, then another, but one of his escort ships died as well. He was down to himself and one escort against two Oort fighters. Ollie and the Harbok gunner on the remaining fighter must have been reading each other’s minds, because both of them focused their firepower on one Oort at the same time. It died quickly. They shifted to the last Oort, but it took out their escort before falling to Ollie’s guns.