Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights

by Lawrence White

  “I hope you do.”

  They reached the main gates and went out. Pen looked around herself in wonder. “I’ve never been out here before,” she said.

  That stopped Graylee in her tracks. “You’ve never been outside the wall?”

  “Girls are only allowed to use the side gate by the river.”

  “This was a much bigger step for your father than I realized.”

  The shuttle settled to the ground, the front ramp opened, and Crowles welcomed them inside. Pen stepped aboard as if it was nothing new to her, though her eyes took in everything.

  “I moved your stuff from Hawke’s shuttle to this one,” Crowles said. “I cleared a room out for you as well.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” Graylee replied.

  “Uh, probably a long time. This is your squad now, assigned by General Stymes himself. I’ll get you introduced around, but I’m guessing you want to clean up first.” He looked to Pen. “How about you, young lady? Want to clean up?”

  “No, sir. I don’t like baths.”

  “I won’t be long, Lieutenant,” Graylee said. “Are you willing to show her around?”

  He looked to Pen. “Is that okay with you?”

  “I . . . suppose.”

  Graylee cleaned up and sought out the squad leader. To her amazement, it was Lieutenant Bardek. He informed her that Lieutenant Crowles was temporarily assigned to her as well.

  “How did that happen?” she asked him in amazement.

  “We asked.”

  She shook her head, partly in amazement and partly in pleasure. “So how does this work? I’m just a private.”

  Bardek shook his head. “Not any longer. You were never brought here to be a marine. As of today you’re officially on the Governor’s staff. General Stymes is pleased with what you’ve done so far and he’s assigned this shuttle and squad to you with the admonition that you keep up the good work.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet. How’s Hawke?”

  “He’s in a tank and still breathing. They’re not telling us much more than that. Don’t sell yourself short,” Bardek corrected her. “Besides the trip to the mine, you plugged the hole in the wall. By the way, did you know that no gleasons have attacked that repair?” When she looked confused, he added, “We’re wondering if they might not like looking at the fabric any more than the locals do.”

  Her jaw dropped at the grin on his face.

  “So what’s next?” he asked.

  “I want to get started on a sewer system here unless I’m needed somewhere else. Do we wait to get called to problems or what?”

  “We weren’t given any direction,” he said. “I’ve known Hawke for quite a while now, and I don’t think you’re ready to jump into his shoes yet. You might never be—no offense, but kings and guard captains prefer talking to men more than women. This builder-teacher thing feels to me like a better match for you, at least until you get to know a few more locals.”

  “I’m supposed to spend some time as Queen Atiana’s teacher.”

  “She’s off-world on another mission, so she’s not an issue at the moment.”

  “I should meet the squad. What’s your background by the way?”

  Bardek smiled and turned toward the stairs. “Your squad’s waiting downstairs.” He pointed to a patch on his arm. “Myself, Crowles, and Sergeant Euon are Firsts, one of the original 20. We’ve been here for over two years and have seen it all.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You took part in the battle for Tricor?”

  “Too big a part. All of us were on the wall. Everyone on the squad is experienced, so no worries there.”

  After meeting her squad, Graylee went in search of Pen. She found her on the bridge with Crowles. She appeared to have no fear as she looked down on her town.

  Graylee stepped over to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “What do you think, Pen?”

  “This is so exciting!” Pen exclaimed. “I can see the whole town and Papa’s mine all at the same time. The town seems a lot bigger when you’re in it.”

  “Your father is probably worried sick about you. We should get back.”

  “Can I come back tomorrow?” Pen asked.

  “Um, maybe. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here.”

  Pen’s face fell. “I thought so.”

  When the shuttle touched down, another shuttle settled in beside them. A marine stepped off the ramp pushing a floater loaded with containers.

  “Healer Kori sent what you asked for and included some spares, Ma’am,” he said. “This small one here will get you started. I’ll drop the rest of them with your squad.”

  “Healer Kori?”

  “She, Milae, and General Stymes are holding down the fort since Hawke is out of the picture. Everyone else is gone.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

  What’s in the containers?”

  “Paper, writing utensils, some spare pads, body armor for you that won’t hurt their eyes, and a bunch of other stuff we thought you might need.” He opened a container and held out several outfits similar to what George had made Queen Atiana aboard Resolve.

  Graylee stared at the supplies in astonishment. She turned to Crowles. “Is this your doing?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. There should be a similar outfit in there for Ms. Pen if I guessed her sizes right.” He reached into the container and found what he was looking for. “What do you think?” he asked, holding out a pair of pants and blouse to her.

  Pen’s face turned red as she looked at the outfit hungrily. “Girls don’t wear pants.”

  Crowles looked shocked, then embarrassed, then annoyed. His questioning gaze ended up on Graylee.

  “That was thoughtful of you. We’ll bring them with us, but this is one battle I don’t think we’ll win,” she said. “What’s with the spare pads?”

  Crowles shrugged. “I guess she bought your argument.”

  “So soon?”

  “We don’t mess around here, Graylee. Lives are constantly hanging in the balance. My guess is that when the governor gets back, it will be an item of discussion for his full staff.”

  “How are we for supplies? I don’t want to take all Builder Thaeron’s food.”

  “I’ll get some more.”

  * * * * *

  The pad was a huge success with Pen and to some extent with Thaeron, especially after Graylee transferred the article on pipe building from her own pad.

  “How would you feel about me leaving this pad behind?” she asked him.

  “Pen won’t leave it alone. Did you know she stayed up most of last night looking at yours?”

  “No, I did not!” Worried about what Pen might have run into in her pad, she asked, “Pen, what interested you on my pad last night? Pads are very personal things.”

  Pen returned a guilty look. “I hope I’m not in trouble. The images of your home seem magical to me, like from a story.”

  “You looked at more images?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, I did. Was it wrong?”

  Graylee stood up and went to her, then bent down and kissed her on the head. “How can it be wrong? I gave you no guidance. Tell me this: I’m thinking about leaving a pad here with you. What would you do with a it?”

  Pen’s eyes widened in hope as she looked to her father.

  He studied her before answering, and his answer, when he gave it, surprised Graylee. “Better you should ask the king what he’ll do with it. He owns everything in his kingdom.”

  “Even personal gifts?”

  Thaeron spread his arms wide. “He owns this house, and he owns the stones of the floor. Didn’t you know?”

  “I did not,” Graylee answered. “So we should not leave the pad here when we go?”

  Pen’s face fell, but she hung on every word of this very important conversation.

  Thaeron answered. “I can’t say. I personally have little interest in it. He probably won’t either, though it is a
thing of magic and he might want it for that reason alone.”

  Graylee sympathized with him. “We know with certainty that younger people learn easier than older people. In the hands of a child, a pad can open doors to the new world Tranxte will become. I would like Pen and her friends to learn the language of the sky knights. They can do so with the pad. I can leave another pad for the king.”

  “It frightens me.”

  “Only because you don’t understand it, and as a builder you want to understand everything. Where I come from they’re as common as bricks. Everyone has one.”

  She spent the rest of the evening showing them how to use the pad to learn a new language. Even Thaeron showed an interest. Graylee had the pad speak a word or phrase. Their translator devices interpreted for them, then she had them turn off the translator devices and listen again. They spoke the word or phrase as often as they felt was necessary, then had the pad evaluate their pronunciation. Lots of giggles filled the small house until it was time for bed.

  “Tomorrow,” Graylee said to Thaeron, “I’d like to spend some time drawing the layout of the pipes you might one day build.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. The drawing you gave me of the town will help in the planning.”

  She smiled inwardly. He had, indeed, been thinking about it. “You’ll want to consider the wind.”

  He nodded with a wily grin. “So I can put the end of the waste line where the fragrance will enlighten all of us.”

  His grin disappeared and he turned serious. “You asked me to decide if you were happy with your strange woman’s life, a life my grandchildren might see. I don’t agree with your choices, but I have to admit you seem happy.”

  He stepped up to her and held out his hand. When she reached for it, he took her wrist in his own. She reciprocated and the two shook hands.

  In the end, they had to postpone drawing the plans. Graylee’s comm unit squawked during the middle of the night, awakening her and everyone else in the house.

  It was Lieutenant Crowles. “There’s been an earthquake on the other side of the planet. The gleasons are having a field day. Kori wants you to evaluate and see what assistance we can provide.”

  She was airborne half an hour later.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Havlock had no fast transporters, so he reprovisioned ten shuttles and brought them aboard the cruiser along with Galborae, Atiana, and Lebac who had recently been promoted to colonel.

  When they dropped from hyperspace, the Knights and visitors from Tranxte joined the science staff on the net to study the planet. Sensors brought the surface of the planet far below into remarkable detail. Oceans separated land masses, the norm on habitable planets. Vast savannas, deserts, swamps, and forests filled lowlands between high, snow-covered mountain ranges.

  As Josh had been told, vicious predators ruled. He was from Earth, and life on the planet reminded him of artists’ impressions of Earth during prehistoric days: dinosaurs, large and small, most of them quite colorful, roamed the savannas, swamps, and forests. Most lived and hunted in groups.

  “We’re receiving a distress signal,” Admiral Jas informed them. “It’s coming from the spaceport.”

  “Have you responded?” Akurea asked.

  “No, My Lady. I have a bad feeling about this place. I suggest we exercise the greatest possible caution.”

  She considered briefly and nodded. “Agreed.” She mentally addressed the visitors from Tranxte through the net. “We’ve found three rebel installations on the planet, all of them far from each other and underground, certainly understandable considering the predators roaming free on the surface. We’ve marked a number of fusion plant signatures near the main rebel installation which is adjacent to the spaceport, and we’ve marked two fusion plant signatures at each of the other facilities. So far, it’s exactly what our contact told us we’d find. We’re going to survey the whole planet, then we’ll likely come back to the area of the spaceport for further study.”

  Differentiating peicks and mulogs from the native population would have been a problem except for two things: mulogs patrolled in loose formations on the savannas surrounding the three installations, and formations appeared to be led by peicks, easily identifiable by a dull metal plate covering their heads. Closer inspection revealed protruding mechanical eyes and equipment belts.

  Other than the metal plate, eyes, and belts, peicks and mulogs looked identical: powerful creatures that walked on clawed hands and feet some of the time, but just as often they walked upright on two hind feet, balanced by a thick, short tail. They appeared to stand about as high as a man. Fierce, yellow-green eyes glared out of a flattened, triangular-shaped head covered in short, sharp bony spikes. Their multi-colored, mottled skin blended in well with the high grasses.

  Away from the installations, peicks appeared to be leading mulogs on maneuvers, usually focused on isolating game and driving it into killing fields where various methods were used to kill—sometimes blasters and sometimes just their powerful arms and hands working in concert with equally powerful legs and feet. A wide, toothy mouth made quick work of that prey, after which the packs of mulogs fell on the unfortunate creature and devoured it.

  A scientist sent a spasm of alarm across the net when he discovered a peick looking up at the ship. In short order, the heads of every peick in sight had lifted to stare directly toward the cruiser. Chills ran through the net as the scientist panicked and cut off the feed.

  “No way,” Josh muttered.

  “Surely it can’t sense us in orbit,” another thought.

  That thought reverberated through the net as the captain issued instructions to turn off active sensors. With only passive sensors operating, subsequent study confirmed that the peicks still sensed the ship.

  Another sharp-eyed scientist discovered mulogs moving through a swampy area, but these creatures had greener skins. Further study revealed that mulog skin color changed as the creatures moved from one area to another. The same applied to peicks.

  “They’re chameleons!” Josh muttered. “Well . . . really big chameleons,” he corrected himself. No one else actually knew what a chameleon was, but since they were on the net they understood his meaning.

  Josh, knowing he might find himself more intimately involved with these creatures during the coming days, ordered Admiral Jas to move the ship into a geo-synchronous orbit. The view below them stabilized so they could study the creatures in greater detail.

  Galborae bit his lip and looked to Havlock. “They’re not invisible, but they’re as brutal as the gleasons. This could work.”

  Havlock nodded his agreement. “But we can’t repeat what the rebels did to Tranxte. We can’t just drop thousands of gleasons on them without knowing if they’re wanted.”

  Josh stared hard at the two of them. “Are you crazy? The peicks don’t own this planet. They were imported just as the gleasons will be. Everything we know about them tells us they’re purely instinctive. They’ve been bred for only one purpose—to kill.”

  Havlock shook his head, wishing he had an alternative. “Not exactly, Sire. Your research indicates they were bred to fight, not just to kill, and they were bred to fight Chessori, not gleasons.”

  Josh shook his head. “You’re asking too much.”

  “I know, but I have to be certain.” He turned to the admiral. “They’re sensing our presence. Can we talk to them over the radio?”

  “Hmm. We can try.” Jas directed a communications specialist to try various frequencies.

  Eventually all the peicks in view turned as one to look at them again. “I believe I have them, sir,” the specialist said.

  Havlock directed his thoughts to the comm unit. “Do you hear me? Do you understand me?”

  A clear response came back in Galactic High Standard. “You have returned.”

  “We are not the same ones. I have an offer for you.”

  “Come.”

  “Not yet. I respect your fighting skills. I am
not here to fight.”

  “We are. Come.”

  “Let’s talk first.”

  “We will talk only face to face. Come to these coordinates tomorrow.” The peick reeled off the coordinates of the spaceport.

  “It’s a long way from you. Can you get there by tomorrow?”

  “No. Another will greet you.”

  “I will be there. I come in peace.”

  “Just come.”

  Havlock turned to Galborae. “About as talkative as a gleason.”

  Galborae rubbed at old wounds. He had a bad feeling that these creatures would be every bit as bad as gleasons. “It sounds like they have a leader of some kind. Let’s keep our distance. I like our present distance a lot. Let’s try him on the radio.”

  The ship repositioned to a geo-synchronous orbit over the spaceport and Havlock got on the radio again. “Hello?”

  “I hear you. Come tomorrow as instructed.”

  “Why not right now?”

  “Tomorrow. If you come now, I will not speak.”

  * * * * *

  This was a purely Empire operation which would be executed by the marines. Atiana, Galborae, and the Protectors would not be part of it. Havlock would lead, and he would do the talking to the head peick. Atiana was not happy about the arrangement, nor was Galborae for that matter, but in view of Krys’ vision of the three of them in tanks, neither of them argued very hard.

  Ten shuttles exited the cruiser at midmorning the following day and formed up on the frigate. They entered atmosphere in formation and approached the spaceport, then split up according to a predetermined plan.

  Aboard the cruiser still in orbit, Akurea, Josh, Atiana, and Galborae joined Admiral Jas and his command staff on the net to observe the mission. Through the magic of the net, Atiana sensed Josh’s strong desire to be among the assaulters and questioned him. “Why aren’t you with them?”

  He considered her question, a question to which the answer had been a long, hard road for him. He asked, “Do you know who I am?”

  “I know only that you’re a Knight.”

  “I come from Sir Mike’s world.”