Sway's Demise

by Jess Harpley

  His throat was ashen dry, the heat in his gut turning. “How is it that you came to be aware of my mate and child’s incident?”

  Her eyes circled, thinking of a lie. “You know how it is, Bedelcast. We’re all lonely without someone to talk to. The other battle commanders couldn’t help but confide in me the information they felt so horrid about.”

  But Bedelcast had not shared the information of Felxak and Lym’s deaths with anyone. Not a damned soul. Not even his father.

  He smiled kindly and said, “I do understand. As for the Lead Battle Commander position, I believe they admired my dedication to the cause. This war was a delicate matter, with few resources, and they needed someone diligent–effective–to lead the fight.”

  Her pointed ears twitched at this, turning an even brighter shade than before. “I suppose you’re used to making do with nothing, coming from a family as insolvent as yours.” She was resorting to lineage blows, and Bedelcast smirked.

  “Indeed, coming from destitution to exoneration is quite an accomplishment. Thank you for reminding me of my lowly birth, it makes the rise to heroism that much more inspiring.”

  Her entire face went purple, looking sickened against the green glow, then her thin cheeks sloped into a frown, “Yes well, see you on the other side.”

  The transmission cut immediately. A special smugness drowned the feelings of anger inside him. Bedelcast had won yet another battle, the war with Rokar’Ih turning in his favor.

  With nothing to do except wait, he took to the outdoors and walked the perimeter for some time. Disrobing entirely, he let the icy breeze coming off the lake blow through him. The smoke of the evening escapades was but a wisp, a hint, at his distance. He let the thoughts of those humans fill his mind.

  They fought so valiantly. Had he not intervened, they would have escaped. A military force of that size would have caused significant troubles for weeks to come, especially with the inclement weather. His green eyes narrowed on the approaching clouds. They were far enough away to not worry him. Yet.

  Something nagged, some feeling of remorse. Did he pity them? He thought not, but perhaps. No. It must be reverence. They, who were so like himself with how little they had, hanging on for so many years.

  Had they not lied to the humans about The Darkness, about rebuilding, they may have overcome their forces and won. At least, they could have won the first invasion. The Pescitin would have sent another. They wouldn’t let a Yolm’ah like Earth go to waste on a primitive race like the humans.

  He dipped into the water, frigid ripples working their way up his leg to his groin, into his gut. Chills shivered through him as he stepped deeper into the water. Several of the Priyon wandered into the shallows, lifting each leg for a few seconds, as if not wanting to touch the water.

  Bedelcast chuckled, “You’re not mindless at all, are you?”

  One’s mandibles chattered as it stepped deeper into the water, ignoring its instincts, and the temperature. The Priyon detested the cold, incapable of surviving in it for too long. Had the snow arrived any sooner, they would have retreated, tried again for the north in the spring.

  He backstroked deeper and stared into the sky. It was such a beautiful place. And they’d stolen it. They stole everything. A dim beeping pulled him from thought and his eyes darted to the ship. A response that fast?

  Bedelcast swam to the edge and shook off, pulling the suit on over his drenched skin. The Priyon followed from the freezing water with haste. He assumed they followed him into the water as protection. He assumed a lot of things about the Priyon. Not having an ambassador of his own, as the humans called them, he could not ask. They simply took orders from Bedelcast’s ship.

  His bare feet pattered up the metal ramp and into the cabin. Taking the only seat, he flicked the message into view. Thank you for your detailed report Battle Commander Bedelcast. We have reviewed, and are pleased to inform you the disassembly of the army can take place effective immediately. Colonization crew is inbound, ETA fifteen lema.

  So soon? It was only half an Earth day. Someone must have been vying for the new utopia. Which house, he wondered?

  The woman continued, You are hereby relieved, if you wish. We are requesting you release the clearing agent from all twelve command vessels, to ensure there are no remaining Priyon when the colonization crew arrives. She paused, but then added with a broad smile, Great work, Commander.

  Bedelcast sat back, chewing on his finger, then glanced at the restless Priyon. The colonization crew must have already been underway for days. They’d been banking on Bedelcast’s last report that he could have the humans under control by that day. With heavy remorse, he leaned forward and clicked the record button.

  “Battle commanders, we’re to release the clearing agent effective immediately from all ships. Please report back in when you’ve completed the final task. We’re free to return to the jump ship once it’s done. Lead Battle Commander Bedelcast out.”

  It was sent out using the human satellites to transmit the order. Those metal orbiting conveniences made coordinating the fight that much easier. They were in constant communication, and didn’t need to deploy any of their own solutions. How silly could they be! Bedelcast wondered. They’d told the humans about The Darkness and they hardly questioned, not even considering the fifty kilotons of technology swarming around their Earth.

  The pain of his deceit took a new toll on his mind as he thought of the Priyon: helpless, obedient slaves. They would suffer most of all. It happened every time. They would unleash the Priyon on a populated world, allow them to wreak havoc, destroy the indigenous population, and then their obedience would end in their death. All for The Coalition. All for their greed.

  He prepped the clearing agent, which was targeted specifically at the Priyon’s unique genome. If only they could do that for the creatures they found abroad. It would be fast, painless, at least, he thought. What did it feel like to be demolecularized? Bedelcast had no idea. Perhaps it wasn’t painless.

  Several of the other battle commanders were checking in, ready to release the agent. He gave them the go ahead, looking back one last time to his faithful, unfaltering army. He set the countdown timer on the release, a few more moments, he thought, that’s all he wanted.

  Bedelcast walked among them, touching one here and there. They would rear, but allow his hands to fall on their carapace. They trusted him, he thought as he touched one for far longer than he normally would. The timer beeped from the ship, reminding him of their imminent death.

  He charged back up the ramp, disabling the dispersing agent. He could inoculate just a few, just the faithful. There’s nothing wrong with keeping Priyon, they’re perfectly harmless to those they obey—he needed to know, again, which ones truly believe in him. Obeying not because they were told, but because they loved him, their leader.

  Grabbing a syringe, and a case of gene altering vials, he treaded into the water again. Twenty-three followed him into the shallows, and so he swam farther. Soon, his feet no longer touched the sandy earth, and he floated. Four of the Priyon tried desperately to keep up, their dense shells dragging them down as they floundered.

  “You are the faithful.” The notion of prophecy filled his mind. A battle commander with Priyon elite. Survivors—obedient and loyal. He swam back, inoculating all four from the destruction of their race.

  They seemed to understand, to know somehow, and followed him to the cabin of the ship, even enter, which none had done before. He released the agent, an invisible gas, and the Priyon began breaking apart into red ash.

  Bedelcast’s Elite did not flinch, following every move he made. He walked about the disintegrating creatures. A great disdain of himself blossomed as he laid waste, yet again, to another sentient race.

  Felxak, he thought as he ran his fingers through the streams of life making their way skyward, I know you were never fond of what I did. Perhaps that’s why you were trying to hide yourself from me, you and Lym. But what if you weren’t?
What if it was like you said, the Pescitin were controlling me? What if—what if they killed you on purpose, to separate us forever. To make me their slave.

  It was all apparent to him, laid out like a grand opera. Felxak was the only thing holding him back. Felxak was the only thing keeping Bedelcast from Lead Battle Commander. I should have listened to you, his shaking hand turned to a fist.

  The Priyon yelped. Had they done that before? Could they feel it? Still, his Elite cared not for the destruction of their own kind. They cared only for him, for Bedelcast. Felxak, the last of his army evaporated, but the four. I will do right by you, by the humans, by my house and lineage, the Arrodans. I will be their bane. The Coalition will fear my uprise, my retribution.

  Chapter 11: He lives

  There was something in his hand. Something warm, smooth, and earthly. Something full of love, and admiration, dampened with the blood of the enemy.

  “Eli, get up.” The voice was familiar, yet distant. Where did he remember it? He gripped the object tighter, clearing his throat with a groan.

  Eli’s shoulder jostled about, “Come on, you need to see this.” He couldn’t tell if he opened his eyes or not, as it was still so dark. Taking a deep inhale, the scent of mildew and wet stone met his nose. It wasn’t what he expected. He expected to be dead, woken only when he reached Heaven.

  He moved his hand over his face, looking to the object it held. Dark wood with lines carved in it. Eli’s thumb brushed the incomplete grooves, initials. He swallowed down tears that grew from the tiny sculpture, a harsh reminder. They’re all gone.

  It was difficult, but he sat up. Inspecting the once broken leg, he saw it’d been set, and wrapped. Tossing it over the edge of the makeshift bed, he stood, and put most of the weight on the good leg. The ache in Eli’s gut caused him to grit his teeth, and tsk sharply. Though blurry, his eyes began to focus on the figure at the mouth of the cave: Vendum.

  “How?” Eli coughed and Vendum passed him a flask of what he hoped was water. He drank deep, and the cool liquid soothed his aching throat.

  “How what?” Vendum asked.

  “How did I get here? How did you get here? What happened after–after it all happened.”

  “I was trying to get back to you when the train tipped. I was thrown from it and hit the side of the canyon wall. I slid into the lake and sank to the bottom.” He turned from the cave opening to face Eli who massaged his eyes to focus them.

  “My primary processor was jostled loose on impact; I couldn’t perform more than one or two tasks at a time. It took me nearly three hours to get it back in place, and when I came to the surface, the Priyon were gone. The ship was gone.”

  He shook his head, as if ashamed, and went on. “I searched the wreckage, but didn’t find you alive, so I went back to Kamloops. I found Xander, Sway, and a few dozen citizens at the tracks. I picked up some of her things for you. I thought you’d like to have them.”

  Eli nodded, tears spilling over his lids as he choked on rage.

  “That’s when I heard you. You were screaming. I brought you back here.”

  Silence persisted between them as Eli tried to collect himself. His whole team, his family, everyone he knew except Vendum, was gone forever. He didn’t know what to do, what to think, or how to feel. He was lost.

  Vendum turned his attention back to the cave opening, and pointed to the sky. “They’re dying.”

  Eli couldn’t see what it was Vendum wanted him to look at through his blurry, tear streaked eyes. The sky glowed red, as if fire caught all over the world at sundown.

  His pallid lips moved laggardly, “What is it?”

  Vendum made a noise like a sigh, though Eli knew he didn’t breathe, “They’re,” he paused in awe, “disintegrating.”

  Eli rubbed his face, squinting to focus on the object in the direction of his pointing finger. Soon, he realized Vendum was not pointing at anything but the sky. The red was what he pointed at. Little glittering bits lifted up into the late evening like millions of ascending fireflies.

  His hand gripped Vendum’s shoulder tightly. “What’s doing this?”

  He turned to Eli mechanically, “It must be viral because it’s multiplying. They’re all dying,” he added, “everywhere.”

  Eli almost smiled in victory, then thought better. Why would something viral take the Priyon out very suddenly? “What is this?”

  “The end of the invasion,” Vendum’s head raised back to the sky, “And the start of the colonization.” He pointed again, his finger tracing the large, shining object as it descended into the atmosphere.

  He was right. They must have been hundreds of miles out still, dozens of massive ships plummeting to Eli’s precious Earth.

  “The Priyon was the military force?” He asked and Vendum responded with a solemn nod.

  Evil thoughts played in Eli’s mind as he recalled information from recent history books.

  “Vendum?” He asked.

  “What is it, Eli?” His voice was tentative, like he already knew what Eli was going to ask. But how could he?

  He leaned on him for support, “You know where the closest store of nuclear arms is,” Eli’s gaze lingered on his friend’s robotic sockets, “don’t you?”

  “I do.” He nodded. “What are you thinking?”

  Eli’s breathing quickened. He was excited to exact his vengeance, retribution, “You can coordinate with the other M.I.U.s, can’t you?”

  “Perhaps. I severed my SYM link years ago in attempts to better develop my individuality.”

  “Well, get it back online.” Eli limped to the makeshift cot, finding Sway’s M4 leaning against the wall. He grit his teeth, winding the orange, blood stained ribbon between his fingers. “How long will it take us to get to the nuclear weapons store?”

  Vendum looked him over, then pondered briefly, “Without transportation, and if your state does not improve–eighty-five days.”

  “How long do you estimate it will take these aliens to complete the colonization preparation, whatever it may be?”

  “Perhaps two years,” he hummed, “but I could not know for sure. That is only my best guess based on several factors. If they need to alter the makeup of the atmosphere, possibly longer.”

  “We better get a move on, then.” Eli patted his shoulder with malice in his voice.

  Vendum’s blue eyes traced his face. “What is it you intend to do?”

  Eli and Vendum will return! I hope you enjoyed this adventure, and urge you to let me know if you did, or didn’t. Leave feedback on Amazon, my Facebook page, Twitter, or even drop me an email. I’m always around and would be glad to address anything going on in your mind, even if it’s wholly unrelated to this work, or my others.

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