The War of Pawns (The Human Chronicles -- Book Three)

by T. R. Harris

  Not so the Humans.

  Yan’wal had traveled 1,400 light years to arrive at this very moment in his destiny, and yet he still knew next to nothing about the Humans and of their homeworld. The spacecraft that the so-called negotiators had been aboard was of a very advanced design, and the bolts it fired at his hapless battlecruiser had been of an intensity he had never before encountered. And so he approached the planet Earth very carefully, with every sensor in his fleet tuned to detect the smallest gravity signature, something that would warn them of any incoming attack.

  Yan’wal’s forces were surrounding the system, with only a few ships approaching the planet through the ecliptic plane. The Human forces could be hiding behind any myriad of planets, moons or asteroids along that path. So the bulk of his force approached the planet from above and below the ecliptic, gaining a clearer approach to the planet with fewer places for defenders to hide.

  But as they drew closer to the planet, they found nothing to oppose them. This made Yan’wal very suspicious, and he ordered Canel to maintain an even stronger vigil, something the Strategist was at a loss as to how to implement.

  But then the planet was before them, and still no defenders.

  “My Lord,” Strategist Canel was saying, “we detect hundreds of satellites, mostly for communications, and all employing the primitive carrier wave technology. Also, we’re currently plotting literally millions of population centers across the planet. The Human population is being estimated to be several billion.”

  “My Lords!” a tech called out. “We have incoming targets lifting from the planet’s surface.”

  Finally, Yan’wal thought.

  He and Canel looked up at the main tactical screen, as a graphic of slowly-lengthening lines appeared on the display leaving the surface. There were hundreds of them.

  “Assessment,” Yan’wal called out to the analysts. After a moment, their leader answered.

  “My Lord, they appear to be missiles of some sort, probably nuclear according to the readings, and using chemical drives.” The tech’s voice sounded incredulous.

  “Calculate the speed of targets,” Canel ordered, after watching the attack lines grow in an almost slow-motion fashion.

  “None are approaching at even standard chemical velocity, much lower in fact.”

  “Lock onto the approaching targets, and fire when ready,” Canel announced to the fleet from his command station.

  A few seconds later, the tac screen now included the track lines of energy bolts emanating from the hundreds of ships encircling the planet, and a few seconds later, all the targets were destroyed.

  The creatures on the bridge waited silently, staring at the tac screen, waiting for the next wave of either missiles, or more advanced weapons, to be sent their way. But none came.

  Yan’wal moved to Canel’s command station and looked over his shoulder. “What is your next action?” Yan’wal asked.

  “Since they do not appear to have any substantial planetary defensives, I suggest we commence the bombardment as soon as possible. Their fleet may be off-station, and in route as we speak. But, My Lord, there are so many targets, it will take dozens of loads just to destroy one average-size settlement.”

  Yan’wal was afraid of this. Even though he had 500 warships in his fleet, he had had no idea what it would take to defeat the Humans. Even with 500 ships, bombarding around the clock, it would take several days to saturate all the settlements on the surface below. The problem came from the energy it took to create bolts of bombardment grade, and their rate of fire. Each of his ships could only generate three to four B-grade bolts at a time before having to recharge the batteries for a full hour, if not longer. And all the time they spent in orbit, bombarding the planet below, just gave whatever fleet the Humans may have that much more time to come to the planet’s defense.

  Of course, the Juireans could have used nuclear weapons on the planet, yet that would then render it useless for many years. That option had never really been a consideration, not unless it became absolutely necessary. And in light of the literal non-resistance experienced so far, Yan’wal completely dismissed it from his mind.

  “Commence bombardment,” Yan’wal ordered, “concentrating on the largest population centers first, as well as any military installations we can detect from orbit.”

  “There appear to be thousands of landing strips of various lengths spread across the entire planet, along with an untold number of watercraft along the shores. I have analysts studying the images to determine which are warcraft and which are not. But, My Lord, I do not detect any spaceports or concentrations of spacecraft anywhere on the planet.”

  Yan’wal was silent for a long moment as he digested the information. “Proceed with the bombardment, Canel, but keep our primary attention focused out-system, watching for any gravity traces at all. Our mission is to eliminate the Human race. If this turns out to be an easier task than anticipated, then that is fully acceptable. Yet the Humans can be deceptive. Maintain your vigil. I will be in my quarters. Inform me of any changes.”

  “Yes, My Lord.” Canel watched as his station monitor began to display the trails from the first white-hot balls of energy as they began their descent toward the surface of the planet Earth. He shared the Overlord’s concern for the lack of defenses they had found so far. It was inconceivable that the Humans would not have more advanced methods, especially considering the advanced design of the negotiator’s ship they had just encountered. He knew, as did the Overlord, that the technology for such a ship existed somewhere in the region. The fact that the Humans were not employing it at this time only added to his concern.

  In the meantime, the Human race was about to suffer incalculable terror, destruction and loss of life. If they had the means to defend themselves, one would think they would have employed it by now…

  Chapter Thirty

  At the meeting in the Pentagon, the Klin ambassador had said the Juireans would be to Earth in six days, so on the morning of that sixth day, Adam was literally climbing the walls of his makeshift prison cell.

  Tobias had returned to the building two days before and told them about the negotiating team being sent up to meet with the Juireans, something Adam knew it was just a waste of time. The Klin would never let the Humans and Juireans negotiate a truce. If they did, then the two races would be able to compare notes, and realize that it had been the Klin all along who were playing them both for fools.

  So the negotiations were destined to fail. The planet would be attacked by the Juireans, of this Adam was sure.

  Adam also had no doubt that Hampton Roads would be one of the primary targets. With seven major military installations in the area, the Juireans would be foolish not to lay waste to the area. Even if the Human military apparatus was no threat to them sitting in orbit, the destruction of the main American military force would be a symbolic victory.

  Adam looked over at a dozing Riyad Tarazi. He had been strangely quiet for the past few days, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. And Adam had only been able to speak with Sherri through the thin walls separating their two rooms.

  The other men in the building – the non-converts – had begun to grow restless. Adam could hear them protesting loudly to the guards regarding phone calls to their relatives. These men had also been abducted, and they too, wanted to let their families know they were alive and well. Adam could hear the bureaucrats explain to them that it would only be a day or so longer before they would be released. After all, the knowledge of alien life in the universe was something that had to be disclosed very carefully to the world public. If they released the men now to tell their stories, either the shock would be too much for the populace to accept, or the men themselves would be consider crackpots and tin-foil-hat lunatics.

  They never explained to the men about the impending Juirean attack, or about the negotiations going on in outer space. The men knew the Juireans were coming, but they had no idea they were only hours away.

  All Ada
m could do now was wait. If the negotiations failed – as he knew they would – Adam was confident Lt. Tobias would call Maria. She would be safe, or at least he kept telling himself that. As far as his own welfare, Adam was exhausted to the point of giving up. If the Juireans attacked, he would be labeled a traitor. And if the Klin came to their rescue before the attack, he would still be called a traitor. The narrative fit too well within the Klin game plan.

  So either way, Adam Cain was screwed.

  Around four o’clock in the afternoon, an E-1 brought in some food for Adam and Riyad. Adam didn’t feel like eating – he was too nervous as the attack deadline approached – but the country fried steak and gravy really did smell inviting. Since arriving back on Earth, Adam had savored every bite of real Human food. Even after a week, he still considered every meal a gourmet treat fit for a king.

  “So, the time must be drawing near, my friend,” Riyad said as he cut into a piece of the batter-covered meat.

  “I didn’t think you noticed; you’ve been pretty quiet recently.”

  “Just making peace with myself and my God.”

  “It’s not over yet. They may miss us initially, and then the Klin will act. Don’t give up yet.”

  Riyad smiled. “And what if we are spared? What prospects do we have for returning to our normal lives?”

  “Normal life – you?” Adam smiled back. He had grown fond of Riyad over the months, even if he could never forgive him for his terrorist past. But people change as their situations change, and boy had their situations changed over the past several years! Adam knew he could trust Riyad to have his back, and that was one of the greatest compliments one person could give to another.

  “But you’re right,” Adam said. “We would have been better off to stay in space and ride this thing out. Hell, I probably could have contacted Maria some other way by now, even by carrier pigeon if need be. As long as she’s safe, I don’t really care too much about what happens to me.”

  “You know that’s not true, Adam. You have a survival instinct that’s stronger than most. And you certainly do not like to lose.”

  “You got that right. That’s always been a big complaint of the people I deal with. If there’s a way to win, I’ll usually find it.”

  “Then you don’t give up either, my brother. We can never know what fate has in store for us.”

  Just then, Adam heard a dull distant sound, like the steady roar of an approaching freight train. Adam and Riyad looked at each other with widening eyes, and then Riyad dove for the floor and pulled the cot over on top of him. Adam ran to the wall between his and Sherri’s room and hammered loudly with his fist.

  “I know, I heard it!” Sherri responded immediately. And then Adam, too, dove for the floor, pulling the mattress over his body.

  Seconds later, they heard the sonic boom, as the roiling mass of white-hot energy descended through the atmosphere. From launch to landing, the bolt took eight minutes to strike the Earth, and when it did, it splashed like liquid fire and spread out in a wave of incinerating death and destruction.

  The first bolt struck on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, in Hampton, Virginia, somewhere on the Langley Air Force Base. The second and third landed at Norfolk, at the Naval Operations Base, or NOB. The fourth struck on the other side of the ship basin at Little Creek from the building where Adam and the rest of them were held. The fire smashed into several buildings and then flowed outward, striking the various ships docked in the basin. The white fire blew apart wood and brick buildings, while melting much of the superstructure of the ships in port. Then the wave of fire continued over the water toward Adam’s building.

  What happened next was a sheer stroke of fortune, and it saved most of the lives of those in the building. As the fire sweep over the water, a thick layer of superheated steam was created on the surface. The layer of steam had the affect of lifting the most destructive force of the bolt about 20 meters or so above the water. As the wave reached the opposite side of the basin and crossed over onto land, the force of the bolt ripped off the roof of the warehouse, while the wall of steam slammed into the front of the building. The bulk of the building collapsed, but it didn’t burst into flames.

  Five seconds later, the bolt had continued to spread outward and soon dissipated, leaving in its wake an inferno of crushed and flaming buildings.

  Most of the structures on the east side of the basin had been flattened by the steam wave, but few were on fire. Adam’s ears were ringing loudly, and he felt as if his skin was on fire. He fought for breath, but all the air he could inhale felt like breathing fire. He kicked at the mattress that covered him, and felt the weight of debris pressing down upon him. Soon the air began to cool, and he found he could breathe at last.

  “Riyad! Are you still with us?”

  There was a groan coming from somewhere near him. Then he heard falling debris, and a hand reached under the mattress and pulled. Riyad was on his knees, blood covering the left side of his face and flowing from his nose. He was covered in soot and dust, but he still managed a hearty smile that accentuated his brilliantly white teeth. “It will take more than a bolt of lightning from Heaven to kill me!” He began to pull more pieces of splintered wood from on top of Adam.

  Soon the two of them stood in the middle of what had once been their prison cell. Now the room was open to the sky, and only about a third of the walls still stood. If the roof had not been stripped away by the fire blast, it would have surely crushed them to death.

  “Damn, I can’t seem to ever get rid of the two of you,” a female voice called out from the dust and ruble. Sherri Valentine stepped over piles of broken building to reach Adam and Riyad. And then the three of them hugged each other until it hurt, which wasn’t much, since each of them shared their own assortment of cuts, burns and bruises.

  “So I guess the negotiations didn’t go too well?” Sherri said, with no humor in her voice.

  “The attacks will continue, at least until the Klin put a stop to them.”

  “We hope – I mean about them stopping the attacks!” Riyad said.

  “Let’s see if anyone else survived.” Sherri took off over the piles of ruble toward the front part of the building.

  It was evident that those in the front of the building had suffered the worst of the blast. The large room where the barracks once stood was now nearly swept clean, and the three of them could see out across the basin to the inferno on the other side of the base. The bolt had hit about two kilometers away, and all the buildings on the west side of the base were gone. A number of the LST’s and other ships that had been in port were now swiftly sinking to the bottom of the shallow basin. Several small craft had been blown over to their side of the base, and now lay strewn about the wharf area, as well as on the street in front of the building.

  Then they heard moaning. Quickly they ran to the massive pile of debris that had been blown up against the main interior wall of the warehouse, a wall that had essentially split the building in two. The pile began to move, as men began to regain consciousness and to dig themselves out from under the pile. Adam, Riyad and Sherri dove in, pulling on pieces of ruble and helping the injured and dazed men to their feet.

  Some of the bodies they reached for did not move, having been crushed in the blast, but out of the 32 men in the warehouse, 15 now stood in the center of the room, groggy and bleeding, but otherwise alive.

  The men began to tend to their injuries, helping each other as best they could. A water main had broken out on the street, and several of the men went out and came back with wet rags torn either from their own tattered clothing or from the remains of sheets and blankets from the cots. None of the survivors appeared to have serious injuries, and soon many of them had stepped out onto 5th Street and stood staring across the basin at the raging fire and billowing columns of smoke. Further to the north they could see easily a dozen or more other towers of smoke rising from the other side of the river, and to the west, NOB appeared to be one massive
column of black smoke rising into the afternoon sky.

  Billy Piscopo was one of the survivors, and he walked up to Sherri and they embraced. Then he turned to Adam. “So the fucking Juireans must have been right behind us. What do we do now? I’m sure they’re not done with their attack.”

  Adam and the rest of them had learned about the requirement to recharge the bolt batteries between salvos while onboard the Juirean battlecruiser. As they looked up into the smoke-filled sky, they knew this was only a reprieve. If the Klin did not act, there would soon come more fire raining from the sky.

  “Hopefully they won’t waste their shots on targets they’ve already struck. But they may move to the civilian population centers around here next,” Adam said. “You’ll probably be safe sticking around here.”

  Sherri noticed the tone in Adam’s voice. “What are you going to do?”

  “I have to go check on something,” he said, as he spotted a gray Navy van near the rear of the building that had somehow survived the blast, having been protected by the building itself.

  “You’re going to look for Maria, aren’t you?”

  “I have to make sure they got out in time. That’s all that matters now.”

  “Then I’m coming with you,” Sherri said, much to Billy’s disappointment.

  “Me too,” Riyad called out. “We’re a team now.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The van looked to still be operational, but there were no keys to be found. So Adam slid in under the dashboard and ripped back the panel. A small part of his SEAL training included how to hotwire a vehicle. You never knew when you might need to secure transportation out of a danger zone, and commandeering a civilian car was your only option. Soon he had the engine humming, and the three of them piled in, Sherri riding shotgun with Riyad in the middle row of seats behind Sherri.