Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights

by Lawrence White

  Inside, the two brothers approached the emperor who was seated on his throne. Guards lined the walls and stood two deep beside the emperor. The brothers stopped before their father and went to a knee, remaining heads down until he invited them to stand.

  “You’re no longer damaged,” he noted to Suliam. “What do you want?”

  “We ask for a private audience, Father,” Suliam answered.

  “Huh! You approach with your knights and expect me to welcome you with open arms?”

  “We do, Father. This is a family matter.”

  “No. Say what you’ve come to say.”

  Suliam looked around the room studying the guards, then turned back to his father. “You’ve earned a rest, Father. It’s time for your sons to rule. Let us take the burden from your shoulders.”

  “You . . . dare?” he said, his face turning red.

  “We . . . insist,” Aldan responded.

  The emperor stood, banging his staff on the floor. “Guards, arrest them!” he commanded.

  A slight jostling sounded from the sides of the room as knights manhandled the few guards who had not been included in the brothers’ plan. Otherwise, no one moved.

  The emperor stared in disbelief, then swayed and collapsed onto his throne. His sons climbed the stairs and went to him, but it was over. He would spend the rest of his days in idle comfort, eventually removed from the palace to a monastery when his tirades became unbearable.

  Suliam spoke into his comm unit. “We’re done here, Sky Lord. We won’t need your intervention.”

  “I’m clear to begin operations?”

  “You are.”

  Shuttles settled to the ground outside ten cities that had been hand picked by the brothers. A process that had been perfected across the rest of Tranxte began, the limiting factor, as always, spokesmen for the sky knights. Hawke had managed to train a handful of marines, but diplomacy was not a common attribute among the fighting men.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  A squadron dropped from hyperspace on the fringes of Tranxte’s system and fast-shipped toward the planet. Havlock’s umbrella of ships surrounding the planet, none of them fast ships, had no idea the squadron was even in the system until it entered a high orbit. Messages swarmed back and forth between the command ships, then everyone settled down.

  Havlock responded to a summons, and he brought Atiana with him. Their shuttle entered the hangar bay inside the cruiser and a crewman escorted them to a meeting room. Inside the room, five comfortable groupings of furniture provided areas for semi-private conferences. Several wall screens looked out on space, with Tranxte center stage on the far wall. A number of paintings and artifacts and a plush, beige carpet brightened the otherwise sterile, military environment.

  A man whose uniform identified him as an admiral stood up, followed by a hard looking man dressed all in black and a woman dressed in comfortable yet elegant pants and blouse. A Great Cat remained sitting on its haunches nearby.

  “Welcome aboard,” the woman said. “I’m Lady Akurea. This is Sir Joshua, Admiral Jas, and the Great Cat Lex.”

  Havlock and Atiana went to a knee, then both stood and Havlock introduced them.

  Atiana stared at the gracious woman before her, then at the hard man beside her and wondered. “Two more Knights,” she said to them. “Tranxte is getting more attention than we expected.”

  Akurea smiled. “When the Queen has eyes on you, and she does, expect lots of attention. We understand you have a problem with gleasons.”

  Had the subject been anything other than gleasons, Atiana might have smiled. Instead, she nodded grimly. “An understatement, My Lady.”

  “Well, we might be able to help. We just came from the Queen. Josh and I have been deep underground on the latest rebel headquarters world for the past six months. What we learned there will spell the final chapter of their book.”

  She looked directly into Havlock’s eyes. “Our mission’s second priority was to examine their records to see if we could find a new home for your gleasons. We might have succeeded.”

  Havlock stared at her, then his gaze moved to Atiana. So much of his plan for Tranxte hinged on those few words that he hesitated to take the next step, to ask for details.

  Atiana felt no hesitation whatsoever. She reached out and placed a hand on top of his, her eyes dancing with hope, then turned her head toward Akurea. “Sweet words, My Lady . . . words that, if you’re right, will affect every person on the planet.”

  Akurea nodded. “That much we understand, though neither of us really comprehends the conditions under which you’ve been living. I have no personal experience of gleasons. Josh has fought them, but nothing like what you’ve done here.”

  “You found a world that needs them?” Havlock asked, his mind still trying to come to grips with the surprising revelation.

  Akurea answered. “We might have found such a world. Don’t get your hopes up yet.”

  “It’s inhabited by some kind of creature that lusts after killing?”

  “Not exactly. It’s more complicated than that. We learned that from the very beginning some senior rebels never fully trusted the Chessori. Just in case that partnership went bad, they established several secret projects to thwart the scree. None of the projects succeeded, but this particular project came close. They constructed an army of androids.”

  Havlock tensed, but Atiana had no idea what they were talking about.

  Akurea did not keep her waiting. “They’re machines in a way,” she said. “Androids mate machine to flesh, theoretically resulting in creatures displaying attributes of each, the best attributes of each. Their production is outlawed within the Empire.”

  “They actually produced working models?” Havlock asked with a sick feeling in his stomach.

  She nodded. “They did. Keep in mind that the rebels knew they would not be able to guide this army when it was under the influence of the scree, so they built limited independence into the creatures. Their worst nightmare became reality when the androids modified their own programing to attain complete independence.”

  A hush fell as the visitors considered her words. Atiana could not conjure any likenesses in her imagination, but Havlock could.

  He spoke softly. “That’s always been the fear with androids. It’s why we outlawed their production.”

  Josh continued their story. “We met with the senior surviving rebel project manager and spoke to him at length. He’s literally terrified of what these creatures became and refused to return there with us. He claims they modified themselves to the point they ignored direct orders and morphed into pure killing machines. He evacuated as many of his staff as he could, but he had to leave some behind—he had to close up his ships before any androids successfully fought their way aboard—and he claims he will hear their screams for the rest of his life. If he convinced us of anything, he convinced us that we can never let these creatures leave the planet. If they do, we’ll have a whole new enemy on our hands.”

  Havlock’s eyebrows lifted. “There are enough of them to threaten the Empire?”

  “We don’t know. Probably not, but most of the production process was automated. Don’t ask me how—they had to mate flesh and machine—but the creatures have taken over the planet, which means they have access to the production facilities.”

  Atiana wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Are these things alive?”

  “Very definitely. The planet itself is non-emergent, meaning there are no intelligent lifeforms native to the planet. The life forms that inhabit the planet are reportedly quite savage.” He looked to Lex and said, “The place sounds a bit like Brodor, your home world. Anything alive there had to adapt or die out.”

  Lex just sat there, his eyes betraying nothing, so Josh continued. “The project imported embryos of a high-level hunter species from another planet and genetically engineered changes to improve their bodies and minds. Chief among those changes was reducing the number of pain receptors, providing the creatur
es with a very high tolerance to pain. The scientists tested this tolerance against the Chessori, and the creatures managed to overcome the worst effects of the scree. The scientists also modified them to heal quickly from injuries. Then, in addition to the genetic changes, they implanted several mechanical advantages to the bodies and in a final step augmented their intelligence with imbedded computers. In other words, creatures who had once been animals took on attributes of intelligence, both through genetic engineering and manufactured additions.”

  Havlock’s brow furrowed. “Would these androids be useful in your fight against the Chessori?”

  “In a perfect world, maybe, but they went rogue and killed a lot of the scientists who created them. They’re beyond anyone’s control.”

  “There are probably hundreds of thousands of gleasons on Tranxte,” Havlock said thoughtfully, his mind considering the implications of gleasons facing off against such creatures. “Surely there can’t be that many androids.”

  “The project built about ten thousand. All of them had the augmented intelligence, but it had not been activated in most of them. No one knows the present status. As I said, the creatures might have figured out how to activate it themselves. In a worst case, they might have figured out how to operate the factories and might be building more of them. Even if they’re not building more androids, there’s another catch: the scientists failed to engineer sterility into the final product. The creatures, they’re called Peicks, bred and are breeding as we speak, passing the genetic improvements to Mulogs, their offspring. Not the surgical implants—we hope—so there are likely two classes of the creatures.”

  “So we have generals and privates?” Havlock asked in amazement.

  “Maybe. We won’t know until we get there.”

  “If they were bred to fight, they could have some level of sophisticated organization,” Havlock said.

  “They probably do. If they’re too much for the gleasons, we’re considering sterilizing the whole planet.”

  Havlock frowned. “Out of curiosity, would the Queen find that to be a moral dilemma?”

  Akurea answered, surprised at his perceptiveness. “She’s mulling it over. They’re manufactured, so it’s a gray area. Actually, sending gleasons to them provides an alternative solution that might fit. In a perfect world, two wrongs might just make a right for a change.”

  Havlock shook his head in despair. “Savage against savage. Gleasons alone are the stuff of nightmares. The thought of two such species going at each other gives a whole new meaning to the word hideous. I shudder to think about the capabilities of any survivors. We might be creating an even more dangerous opponent.”

  “No final decision has been made, and the argument you just gave is part of the reason,” Josh said. “We’re here to evaluate. There’s only one way to find out what’s really happening on the planet—we have to go there. They named it Harac. We thought you might like to join us.”

  “You’re offering us a ride?” Havlock asked in surprise.

  “We are. We have fast ships, so you won’t have to be gone long. I should tell you, though, that the scientists who built the peicks tried to dissuade us from going. They want Harac completely sanitized.”

  “Can you give me a day to get organized?”

  Akurea nodded. “We can. On another subject, we brought a replacement marine with us who could use a ride down with you.”

  “Oh? Just one?”

  “Just one,” Akurea said, nodding. “Private, will you come in please?” she announced into the air.

  Chapter Thirty

  Graylee Rodjiks entered the room. Though a private and subject to Havlock’s orders, her smile was for Atiana. She stepped up to her and went to a knee, saying, “Your Majesty.”

  Atiana pulled her to her feet and embraced her with eyes that danced with delight. “You came!”

  “Of course I came. Did you ever doubt?”

  “It’s been a year. I’ve wondered.”

  “Hawke said only warriors could come until the gleasons were gone. I didn’t want to wait that long so I joined the marines. The Queen pulled a few strings for me and here I am.”

  “But your damaged leg. How did you manage?”

  “It’s been a hard road—the marines demand more than you can give, regardless of your species. I have a special boot for the times I came up short. It’s possible the Queen intervened, but I never asked.”

  She turned to Havlock. “If I may speak freely, Governor, I’d like to spend some time with a caravan before Hawke knows I’m here.”

  Havlock lifted an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “Because he told me I’d join your personal staff if I came, but I’m pretty sure he’ll try to shelter me in the process. I’m a marine sir. I’m not here to be sheltered.” She looked around at the rest of the people in the room. “Are any of you?”

  Atiana spoke for everyone. “Your request grieves me, but you’re right. A day or two with a caravan it is.”

  Graylee shook her head. “A month, Your Majesty. A month as a marine, not as an observer. I can’t be yours until then.”

  Atiana and Graylee had a stare-down. Havlock stepped carefully between them and put an arm around each.

  “Enough, friends.” He turned his head to Atiana. “You know she’s right. She’ll have to speak as an equal to warriors.” He turned to Graylee. “We don’t hold with secrets here. Too many lives are at stake. Hawke has to know. We’ll make certain your assignment tests you.”

  * * * * *

  When Hawke got the news, he dropped what he was doing and shuttled up to the transporter which was still on station. Despite the presence of Havlock’s squadron of ships, the transporter still played an important support role for the marines on the surface, and Graylee had transferred to it for her in-processing. He found her working her way through the supply area dragging an enormous pack behind herself loaded with clothing and equipment.

  He cleared his throat loudly enough for her to hear and she turned. When she saw him, her face lit up. She took a step toward him, then stopped, her look suddenly darkening. She held out a hand to ward him off.

  “Havlock promised,” she said.

  He had reminded himself to treat her arrival as a business issue, but her amazing eyes and smile so called to him that the promise melted away. “I know, I know. He made it crystal clear. Can’t I just say hello?”

  That fabulous smile returned. “You may, sir.” Her eyes shifted momentarily, and she corrected herself. “Yes, Sergeant.”

  He shook his head. “I’m no longer a sergeant. I’m a government employee just as you will be very soon. Maybe sooner than you think.”

  She stepped up to him and took the collar of his shirt, running it between her fingers to smooth it down. “That would be nice, but I signed on for the standard term.”

  “We know how to make exceptions here,” he said grinning. He wrapped his arms around her despite the lack of privacy and she responded.

  “It’s been a long time,” she said softly.

  “A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t wondered what you were doing. Despite your unorthodox methods, I’m glad you’re here. Can I have a few minutes of your time before you ship out?”

  “I don’t have orders yet, not that I know of. How about lunch?”

  The two of them went to one of the cafeterias. Over the meal, Hawke pitched the plan he’d prepared.

  “A deal’s a deal,” he said. “I’m not real excited about you going out on a caravan, but I understand your motivation, and in the long run it’s the right thing. It will give you more credibility. That said, I think we’re wasting your talents sending you as a marine.”

  Furrows showed on her forehead. “I practically killed myself getting through training, and I’m proud to be a marine. Besides, how else would I go?”

  “Well . . . you need to understand something. Everyone in a caravan fights, not just the soldiers, so you’ll fight regardless of your position. You made it through trainin
g, which means you know how to follow orders. That’s the single most important thing.”

  “Besides shooting accuracy,” she corrected him. “A Great Cat and a Knight gave me some pointers on the way here.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Really? You know how to keep the right company, don’t you?”

  The dimples returned. “I hope so. I’m keeping yours.”

  “In that case, I wonder if you’d consider revising the deal you made with Havlock?”

  “I’m just a private. You can order me, but I want to be a full part of whatever you’re doing.”

  He nodded. “Just what I wanted to hear, and you will be, but for your information, caravans will probably never be a big part of your duties. Well . . .” He paused in thought. “I guess none of us knew or knows what our duties will be. We sort of make them up as we go. But you’re a teacher and you’re an engineer. You can put your talents to use in better ways. When we first came here, our indoctrination started with towns and cities, not caravans. I’d like to introduce you to Tranxte that way. You’ll have a much fuller appreciation for what we’re doing, and you’ll have a fuller appreciation of what caravans mean to these people.”

  “You want me to experience the disease and starvation, the bed bugs, the too hot and too cold or just plain rainy with no escape from it, and the lousy food.”

  “You haven’t forgotten.”

  “I don’t forget much.”

  He leaned forward. “Telling you about it can’t prepare you for life here. The whole planet is truly a war zone. We’ve contacted the largest civilizations and things are starting to get back to some kind of normalcy for them, but there are still a lot of smaller cities and kingdoms that we haven’t reached, and they’re suffering. Everyone here has lost loved ones and close friends. You’ll see a lot of ugliness.”

  “You’ve seen beyond it or you wouldn’t love them as much as you do.”