ARMS For Eternity: (Book 8)

by Stephen Arseneault

  Harris tilted his head and whispered, "Not exactly true. We could equip them with an interference emitter that would make this whole valley look like nothing but noise."

  Tawn sighed before offering a quiet reply, "OK, how about shutting it until I'm done? We don't have time to offer them false hope. We need them to move. First time that emitter has issues or the aliens decide to populate this planet they'd be outed. You want that on your conscience?"

  "I guess not."

  Tawn turned back to the crowd. "Look, where we're going, Earth, it's a big place. We'll be safe there. There's lots of land. It's bigger than Domicile. Everyone will be offered a turn in the homesteading lottery if you don't want to be in the cities. Nothing there will be perfect, but there are opportunities for mining, for logging, and while hunting may be an issue at this time, they're planning a full re-population of the animals, so the game will be plentiful."

  One of the crowd raised her hand. "Fishing?"

  Tawn nodded. "The place hasn't been fished for two thousand years. I can't say what will be available, but whatever is missing will be restocked given time. We have the DNA of almost every living creature that was there before Humans had to flee. Those creatures will be regrown and put back into the environment."

  "Beyond the move, will there be assistance once we get there?"

  "Yes, but I can't promise what level that will be. You might even be assigned an automated bot for all I know. It's too early to say, and too much is going on right now to plan for those things. Just know that we’re out here trying to save every life. Every one of you is valuable to us. It's you, the individuals, that make us unique. From what we've seen, we value life far more than our enemies. So choose us and you choose life. Choose to stay and you'll be receiving whatever it is they want to give you. I can't believe that would be anything good."

  The governor asked, "Will this assistance be available to everyone?"

  Tawn sighed. "All I can say is that it will be fair. The people in charge right now are good, decent people. You will have to put your trust in them doing the right thing, but you have to ask yourself, if they didn't have your best interests at heart, why would they even bother to offer the move?"

  A voice called out from the crowd: "Has anyone tried to negotiate with the aliens? When they took Domicile, they didn't even bother us out here."

  "Yes we have," Harris said. "They're backstabbers. Their word can't be trusted. And they didn't come out here because they weren't prepared to expend the resources to do so. This time around, much blood has been shed on their side. Hundreds of thousands of ships lost.

  "But they have something behind them that we don't. Immense empires with thousands of populated worlds are providing them with the means to take us. Each empire easily has dozens of fleets bigger than anything we can field. They won't hesitate to quash any resistance and to punish others for that resistance. As Miss Freely said, our choices are to go when the transport comes, be conscripted, enslaved, or killed."

  Harris took a deep breath as he stepped up to the edge of the stage, pointing toward an exit door with each hand. "For anyone who's still not interested in coming with us to a new world, a new beginning, the exits are right there. We're a free society. You make your choice here and now. When the ship comes, there will be no waiting for late deciders. You're either prepared or you get left behind. So what will it be?"

  A grumble went through the crowd for several seconds before the first person stood with a scowl, his arms crossed. Seconds later counted another and then another. After a dozen had taken their stand, the grumbles died down. The remainder of the crowd was no longer defiant. Almost a minute of looking around for support passed before the twelve began to sit. A strange applause ran across the room, as if some victory had been won.

  The governor stepped up with a smile. "Thank you. I could not have delivered that so convincingly. Do you have any idea of when the transport will come to Geldon?"

  Harris shook his head. "We aren't in charge of any of the scheduling. But I will say this, the outer colonies are being moved first. You may be the first to give up your homes, but you'll also be the first to receive new ones. There will be hardships, and we'll have to trust in one another to solve them."

  The governor gave each a quick handshake before turning back to the crowd. "Listen up. If you weren't paying attention before, this is what you'll be allowed to bring..."

  Harris patted Tawn on the back as they walked out into the bright daylight of the street. "You did good back there. Almost had me convinced it was time to go, but not quite. Had I not stepped in there and saved you, that crowd would have mobbed the stage."

  Tawn chuckled. "Right. You saved the day by coming in to do the light work after I had already done the heavy lifting. That makes you quite the hero."

  "Yes, it does, doesn't it? Feels good to be the hero."

  "Feels good to play the hero is more like it. I set you up for that win." Tawn slowly shook her head. "I can't believe they all took the offer. Was certain there'd be at least one mule in that crowd."

  "It was never a doubt when you had the closer coming out to seal the deal. The sale was made."

  Tawn laughed. "Just like you did when we were last here. As I recall, that visit started with you being blown down the road like a ragdoll. Tawn stopped, pointing at the local assayer’s office as they reached the Bangor. You recognize those two old men sitting in there giggling at you?"

  "No."

  "Well, they recognize you. They locked the door on us just after we arrived."

  Harris looked up. "Crap. Get in the ship and hurry!"

  A blinding white snow cloud was furling and frothing as it rushed toward the town from the near snow-capped peaks. The hatch closed just as the wind began to pick up. Seconds later, it could be heard howling on the outer hull.

  Tawn chuckled. "I should have pushed you out and closed the hatch. Now that would have been funny."

  "You want me dead or something?"

  "You didn't die last time. I suspect other than getting tossed around a bit you wouldn't die this time either. But I would have had something to laugh about for as long as we live. Especially since it would have been on the ship's recorders this time. The other Bios would gladly pay to see that. Could have made a fortune."

  The Bangor lifted off as the blizzard outside quickly began to dissipate. Two hours later, they were landing at the presidential estate on Domicile.

  — Chapter 24 —

  * * *

  A report on the Geldon colonists was given to the President and his staff. Other colonists were on the way or preparing to be collected. In a change from previous plans, citizens of the outer colonies were instead being brought to Domicile. The outer colony migration would take five days. During that time, another three transports would be put into service.

  In another decision, all citizens were assigned a ranking. You were either a critical need for the reestablishment of Earth as an occupied world, or you were an inhabitant. The criticals were given priority in the moves while the remaining citizens, the inhabitants, fell into a lottery. Given the capitalist nature of the Domers, move numbers for the non-criticals that had been assigned from lottery picks would be allowed to be traded or sold.

  The trade practice quickly showed its flaws as individuals began showing up who claimed to have been cheated or scammed out of their rightful number. A commission was established requiring both parties of a trade to come forward in person, where sworn statements sealed the deal. The fraud quickly dropped away, and with it the media frenzy surrounding it.

  Tawn shook her head as she gazed at a move number. "Had it not been for our duties here, I would have been on the second to last transport."

  "How do you know that?" Harris asked.

  "Someone figured out they used an algorithm instead of purely random selection. You put your national ID number into an app and it spit out where you would have been placed."

  Harris chuckled. "And you believe that?"r />
  Tawn shrugged. "Don't know. There were several hundred comments about it that said it was true."

  "And how many that said it wasn't?"

  "They weren't showing those."

  The five days passed with the outer colonists all being brought to Domicile.

  A comm came in from a scout: "This is Banshee 225311. The Frizoid fleet is now forty-eight days from arrival."

  Tawn scowled. "That time is going to go fast."

  "First transport will be leaving today. They're taking about sixty thousand people each time. Journey is about eleven days. So three weeks before those ships return. Should have thirty transports operating by then."

  "Not enough. How long before those at the back of the line begin rioting?"

  "Those transport numbers I just gave out, hold them tight. That's the kind of information that would start riots. It will leak out eventually, but the longer that takes, the more orderly things remain."

  At the briefing the following day, the day of reckoning was given. The Banshee fleet with her multitude of missiles would be waiting for the invaders at the three-days-to-arrival mark. Tawn and Harris left the meeting with feelings of anxiety.

  "Only a tenth of our people moved by then. This is a disaster. Harris, we’d better be heroes this time."

  "We'll do what we can."

  Transport production efforts were redoubled. The weeks counting down toward the arrival worked to raise tensions, but the populace had largely remained focused and committed. That all changed when the countdown dropped to a week and word leaked of when the last transport was expected to move before the Frizoid's potential arrival.

  The President went on the broadcast channels repeatedly to ask for calm. The military and the growing supply of gamma missiles, now over a hundred thousand, was still a barrier to the alien's arrival. Daily protests were underway in a third of the major cities. None had yet to disrupt the flow of citizens onto transports, but that was expected to change as the arrival date grew closer.

  As the countdown ticked below day four, Tawn and Harris made their way to the Bangor. Five hours later, they were waiting for the approaching fleet.

  Tawn said, "All comes down to this one fight."

  "Maybe. Maybe not."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "If we win, what's to stop them from eventually heading toward Earth? Might take them six months to get there, but they could still pursue us."

  "First, we take out this fleet and they aren't gonna want to mix it up with Humans for some time. And they’re all enemies of each other, despite what temporary arrangements they made. I think they're more likely to be fighting each other over our abandoned space than coming after us for revenge. Hopefully that will give us a few years at least to build up our defenses."

  Harris let out a long breath. "A new world with new problems. I just hope we have the time to commit to a defense."

  Tawn chuckled. "You trying to cheer me up this morning or what?"

  "I've always got your back, Freely."

  "Yeah, especially if there's gunplay in front, right?"

  "That should give you comfort."

  Two hours of countdown dropped to one, and then into the single minutes.

  Tawn moved nervously in her chair. "This really has the tension building. Can't say I've ever felt this nervous before."

  "I'm actually right there with you. Two minutes."

  A bot came over the comm. "Missiles are deployed and active. Our reserve is now eighteen thousand, two hundred and four."

  Tawn leaned forward toward the console, her right hand supporting her forehead as she rubbed her temples. "This has to work. Please work."

  Silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

  Harris said, "Sixty seconds."

  Both Biomarines stared at the counter on the display in front of them.

  "Thirty seconds..."

  "Fifteen..."

  "Here we go."

  Wormholes opened across the void in front of them. Frizoid warships slipped through from another jump. At once, eighty-eight thousand sixty-six gamma warhead missiles detonated. The display in front of them turned pure white for most of a second. At the next jump, 92 percent of the warships opened a wormhole and moved through.

  Tawn's jaw dropped. "They didn't work… the missiles… what happened?"

  As the Bangor turned toward Domicile, several dozen wormholes opened nearby. A small force of a new kind of Frizoid ship slipped through, emitters for energy beams pulsing with flashes of light.

  Harris pushed the throttle to full. "Jump us out of here, Freely!"

  "I'm trying. The generator won't engage!"

  Harris cut hard to one side as a dozen pulses filled the space where the Bangor had been. "Living on borrowed time here!"

  "We need distance! Go as straight as you can! We have the advantage!"

  In an attempt to gain freedom from the mass of Frizoid ships, Harris minimized the jinking he would normally opt for. A counter on the display showed the required distance in kilometers was shrinking and shrinking fast. But not fast enough.

  A powerful energy bolt hit the Bangor just as a wormhole finally opened before them. Explosions bounced Harris in his seat as the cabin quickly filled with smoke.

  The open wormhole closed behind them. "Freely! You OK? Freely!"

  No answer was returned. Harris worked the dials of the hazard control systems. The atmosphere was evacuated, and flames ceased to burn. As air returned, Harris turned to check on his partner. She was slumped over with a large piece of metal sticking through the back of her battlesuit, blood oozing out.

  Without thinking, Harris released his lap belt and sprang to his feet. Glancing about the cabin, he suddenly came to focus on one of the two stasis pods. A quick turn and leap had him standing over the back of his fallen mate.

  He removed her helmet and carefully stripped away her battlesuit. The metal shard still protruding, he lifted the hundred and three kilo Biomarine from her seat and carried to the pod, laying her out gently on her stomach with her arms by her side.

  Harris stepped back, staring at the metal shard jutting a half meter up into the air.

  The stasis pod returned a warning that the door would not be able to close. Drawing in a deep breath, Harris stepped forward, taking hold of the shard. He pulled on it violently, popping it from her back.

  Blood poured out into the pod as the transparent door lowered and sealed. The injection arm came out, attaching itself to her shoulder, where the Human antifreeze was pumped in. Within seconds, the liquid that was used to surround the body filled the empty space around her. Blood mixed in with the liquid compound for several seconds, turning it a crimson red, before a flash of light told of the contents being frozen in place.

  Harris stood staring at the reddened block of translucent solid that occupied the pod. He wondered if he'd done the right thing. The constant beeps from the comm console brought his attention back to the here and now.

  The designator for a bot appeared on the display. "Sir, the second set of missiles claimed another 4 percent. The force remains at just under seventy-eight thousand warships. Do you need assistance?"

  "No… everything is under control here. Order all Banshees to attack. Try to catch them just as they're emerging from their wormholes. Maybe we get lucky and pick off a few more. But don't sacrifice yourselves. We still need you."

  "We will do our best, sir."

  The comm closed as Harris glanced back at the pods. "Hang in there, Freely. We aren't finished yet."

  A wormhole opened in front of the Bangor and she slipped through. Five hours later, she was dropping through the atmosphere toward the main medical center in the capital. Upon arrival there were no orderlies or other workers coming out to greet him.

  Harris hustled into a corridor, where half a dozen medical staff were hurrying about. "Can I get some help? I have an injured soldier!"

  He grabbed a nurse as he ran past. "What's happening? Where's the ER staff?"r />
  "Hospital is closed. Staff is gone. You might try the ER in New Pittsburgh. I heard they are last on the list. Please, sir, let go of my arm. My transport is scheduled for later today and I still have to get my family."

  Harris released his arm and the man scurried off.

  He opened a comm to the President. "We already have the news, Mr. Gruberg. You did your best. We're on a short timetable here. Give me a comm when you reach Earth."

  The comm closed.

  A second comm was opened to Chicago Port Station. An image of Alex appeared on Harris' arm pad. "Mr. Gruberg, I've received the news. Devastating. I volunteered this station for transport only to be told no. I was to leave immediately. If possible, perhaps you could gather the Bolemans and Miss Withrow and their families. I have sufficient food reserves here to last them for the journey. And that would free up transport space for others."

  "I have a problem, Doc. It's Tawn, she's hurt. Hurt bad. Took a shard of metal to the back."

  "Where is she? Is she conscious?"

  "She was bleeding bad. So I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped her in a stasis pod and pulled the shard of metal that was sticking from her back. Blood was everywhere. Don't even know if she's alive. But she's in stasis now. What should I do?"

  Alex sat for several seconds. "You... you did the right thing. You bought her time. When the process is reversed, she should come out exactly as she went in. We'll need a medical team standing by when that happens. But this is important. It doesn't have to happen today. This can happen in six days or six weeks or six years. If she is alive, you've probably saved her."

  "I can't let her go like this, Doc. We need her. I need her."

  "As I said, for now she's safe. Time is running short for the rest of us. Please, if you want to make the offer to the Bolemans and Sharvie, go and do so. I told them they were welcome here, but they have no transportation."

  Harris sighed. "OK, Doc. I'll go. Give them a comm for me and ask them to comm me when they're ready for a pick-up."

  "Will do. And, Harris, you did the right thing by us all. We did our best to protect ourselves. At least getting some of us out is a partial victory. Perhaps in time we can come back for the others."