Flames: Galaxy On Fire, Book 2

by Craig Robertson

  “Hey, computers, why are you so quiet lately?”

  “We’re playing cards. The fun is so dense we can’t pull ourselves away to harass you,” replied Al.

  “Hm. Not likely,” responded Garustfulous. “Something’s up. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “Maybe you need to have a bowel movement?” replied Al.

  “My bones, idiot, not my bowels.”

  “Just trying to help.”

  “What is the situation?” he asked, grabbing the bars and peeking out between them. He was not bored for the first time in days.

  “As it involves you, I guess there’s no harm in discussing it.”

  Al briefed Garustfulous on the situation as it was a few days earlier. He did not mention the difference in membranes, just that the shield appeared to have stopped EJ.

  “Hm. So, it’s a call game?” said Garustfulous.

  “A call game?”

  “Yes, a stuck game, a stale game. No one has any good moves.”

  “Ah, we call that a stalemate,” replied Al.

  “Stale mate? How odd. That sounds like my third wife, not a call game.”

  Al snickered despite himself.

  “Here’s my solution. I give it to you free of conditions as a show of my good faith. Open your shield for a microsecond and send Ryan an update, any update. My people will hear it and come here to investigate. If the other Ryan still lingers, he won’t be here for very long. If your shield is as good as you say, my side won’t detect you.”

  “Nice try,” responded Al.

  “What?” he protested.

  “Your side will linger here, or at least set recording devices. When the others return, they’ll be captured.”

  “Well then make that your message to Ryan. Tell him to be aware the location may be compromised.”

  Al considered the permutations for almost half a second. He did not want to make a critical mistake. “That is a sound plan. There is one variable I am not comfortable with. How long will your people linger before they give up and leave? If they remain indefinitely, there will be no safe return for them.”

  Garustfulous rubbed his chin and paced back and forth in his small cell. Then he turned to the panel. “I’ll divulge a key piece of intelligence that will help you decide your best course. Our protocols mandate an investigation commensurate with the potential importance of the situation. Searches are timed in half-lives. With each passing half-life, fewer personnel and fewer resources are allocated to the investigation. After ten half-lives, if no progress is made, the investigation is terminated.”

  “How long are the half-lives?”

  The half-life is one and one-half days, always. There is a multiplier to reflect the importance assigned to the mission. The half-life can be doubled for the highest priority situations.”

  “So, the longest the Adamant might linger here is thirty days?”

  “What if they find something or—”

  “Never. The investigation concludes on the thirty-first day. Period.”

  “You guys are rather inflexible.”

  “No. We are not rather inflexible. We are completely inflexible. It is one of our greatest strengths.”

  “And if you are lying? How do I know you didn’t just invent that cock and bull story?”

  “You don’t. I can offer no proof. But, consider this. If this other Ryan gains access to this vessel, my life will change for the worse. I have a stake in not becoming his prisoner. One Ryan as my captor is one enough already. At least the one who currently holds me is not insane.”

  “And you believe the other version is?”

  “I think I’ll stop gifting you classified information. I will say our battle on this retched planet is longer and costlier than any we’ve fought. Partly that is due to the bizarre and harsh methods employed by the Ryan who stand outside.”

  Al did not reply. He had a lot to consider.

  FIVE

  With full bellies and smiles on their faces, the teens set out to distance themselves from the combat. The recent run in with the Adamant was too close. In a few weeks, they’d chance another check of the message location, but too little time had passed since they last looked to justify the risk. It was best to hunker down somewhere safe and buy time. Over dried strips of deer, they’d debated checking out Blessing, but Mirraya was firm. It was a perfect trap. She could tell Slapgren was itching to be more active, but the boy simply didn’t understand the gravity of war.

  “Uncle Jon spoke of a rugged coastline to the north. He said he used to go fishing there with his kids. I think that would make a perfect place to hide. We’ll have access to the sea, so we can hunt there easily,” said Mirraya trying to sound more confident than she felt.

  “Hello. That was two billion years ago. The continents may have drifted, and the war destroyed the area.”

  “So, the floor is open for your suggestions as to where to hide out.”

  “We could stay it the thickest part of the forest and make due like we have been,” he replied.

  “Did you notice those two scooters that almost ended our camping vacation the other day? No, it’s too dangerous here. They will start a search from that point of contact and expand it in ever-increasing spirals.”

  “Oh, so now you’re an expert in Adamant tactics and procedures?”

  She gave him a look. “It’s logical. Since your brain doesn’t go there, you wouldn’t see that.”

  “Ouch.” He collapsed, clutching his chest. “She got me. I’m a goner for sure.” Then he overacted a version of dying that involved a lot of leg flailing and grunts.

  Hands on hips, she responded, “Sometimes I wonder how our species made it so far.”

  Slapgren got up, dusted himself off, and sat back on his rock. “Can you think of any alternatives to the coast?” He was clearly anxious.

  “No.”

  “Then the sea it is for me,” he began to sing.

  “Oh no. If you’re going to sing, I’m running straight to the Adamant. Their torture is less severe.”

  He got a very serious look on his face. “Do you think we’ll make it?”

  She realized she was his last external support mechanism. “Yes. If we’re careful and if we’re smart, I think we’ll be fine.”

  “What about Uncle Jon? If he’s dead…”

  “We can’t waste energy worrying about things we don’t know and can’t control.” She pointed at him. “You focus on you. That’s the best course. I know Uncle Jon, and I know he’ll find us. Whatever it takes and whatever the cost, he’ll come through, so don’t you worry about that.”

  He responded with a weak smile.

  “I say we eat one last meal, then change into those deer-like creatures. We’ll be less conspicuous and still make good time.”

  “Aw,” he protested, “I hate eating a bunch of meat then switching to an herbivore. The crap sits in your stomach for-ever and the gas is nonstop.”

  “Then I’ll lead while you follow.”

  SIX

  Emerging from the frigid inland sea into the cold wind, I was glad I was no longer human. I'd be shivering and would have a severe shrinkage problem if I were. Always look on the bright side, if possible. That was my motto. I chuckled to myself at my weird life. I was running for my life from myself, and I met a kindly sentient whale who was lonely. How very odd.

  I was familiar with the territory, changed as it was. Stingray and the clearing where I was to leave a message for the kids was a three day walk away. It would take me longer, however, since I had people actively hunting me and troops on both sides who might chance upon me. Both participants would shoot first and ask question probably never. Any advantage I had in looking like the leader of the resistance was certainly gone. EJ would have made it very clear to them by now that I was not him. Shoot on sight or suffer his wrath. Maybe he wore a carnation in his lapel to identify himself. Or a raspberry beret. I could only hope.

  I headed out in the general direction of the clear
ing. There was no way I’d get there without drama. I had to hook up with them, and that was the place to do it. During daylight hours, I stuck to the bushes and to similar heavy cover. At night, I could be a little less cautious, but everybody had AIs scanning with infrared and motion sensors, so I still had to work hard to avoid notice. It was slow going, but I wasn’t really in a hurry. I’d abandoned hope of a quick reunion with the kids. I knew Mirraya had a good head on her shoulders, and she’d keep them safe until we got together.

  As I walked, I pondered the fate of EJ. I was pretty sure I’d have to kill him—well, decommission him. That thought was abhorrent and crazy. He was me, just the product of a different, darker timeline. He was downloaded to this android host at the same the moment I was. We were closer than identical twins. The man set off alone to find a home for humankind, just like me. He loved and lost Sapale, just like me. And, importantly, he was fighting, albeit cruelly and insanely, to keep Azsuram safe. That was always our promise to Sapale.

  Yup, he was a good guy at the start, and a lot of bad things changed him. He was doing what he felt was right, filtered through his warped perception. Still, I had to put him down. There were way too many insane overlords in the galaxy without adding an immortal one equipped with magic. In fact, the more I considered it, the more I came to realize I owed it to EJ to do him in. He was corrupted. He would not want to go on as he was if he was still rational.

  My flight of thought crashed to a halt when I heard multiple voices very close by. It was a squad of Adamant, and they were on the move. They were only twenty meters away, and they were headed right for me. The chatter indicated they hadn’t seen me. It was probably just shifting personnel or lines. I scanned quickly for good cover, but there was none. If I ran, they’d hear me. I did the last thing anyone would want to do. I scrambled up a tree. It was great cover if no one looked up. If they did, well that would be bad.

  I went as high as I dared, given the rapid approach. I did cheat a bit and shoot my fibers way up the tree and hoist myself up, skipping the actual climbing part. Then I looked down and froze. The squad came into view. They were running on all fours, like—yeah—border collies. It was the first time I’d seen them not doing the biped thing. I assumed it was practicality over pride. They could move much faster as dogs. Weapons and supplies were strapped to their backs like saddles. And boy did they chatter like a bunch of women doing laundry by a stream. I overheard something about a new weapons system, the commander’s bitch, who was oh so sweet, and how they, the infantry, were the backbone of the Adamant, unappreciated as they were. Typical GI jabber.

  I did hear one tidbit I hadn’t known. Someone complained that since Ryan destroyed all the incoming transport ships with his magic, the complainer wasn’t getting any of the treats (his word not mine) his family typically sent him. He was pissed.

  So, it was his special talent that protected Azsuram from resupply. I strained my brain to recall what he’d told me about magic long ago. I seemed to recall it was hard to do, unlike in the holos, and that it required a lot of energy. There were limits, I had inferred, to his actions. Hopefully he was over-extended. That way he’d be unable to break into Stingray or nuke me if he got within range. Of course, what range had to do with the magical was beyond me. I didn’t rightly see why he couldn’t just wish something and have it happen, like Samantha on Bewitched.

  The squad passed quickly enough and didn’t notice the robot up a tree. When I was certain they were long gone, I lowered myself and resumed my earlier course. If EJ wielded enough power to destroy Adamant fleets in space, I was up against one major force. Was it even possible for me to take him out? I had toys, to be certain, but the Adamant had lots of them too. If their might, numbers, and know-how couldn’t neutralize EJ, what could I possibly bring to bear? My wit and charm? Unlikely to work on myself. Plus, EJ had to figure I’d be gunning for him. He was ruthless and calculating now. He’d not expect any other approach on my part. He might even want me gone for good so I never cramped his style again. The rest of the day I made little progress. I was too lost in thought.

  Shortly before nightfall, just about the time I traditionally reflected on my lack of a warm meal and the need to sleep, Al jumped into my head. I was pissed. WTF? He was supposed to be hiding and waiting. Was he unable to restrain himself from announcing his impending nuptials with Ms. Stingray?

  Captain, EJ is here, or was. Full membrane appears to have prevented his use of magic to control Blessing. Sending this to update you and to draw Adamant to this location. Be advised they will linger up to thirty days, assuming they do not discover our location. Use appropriate caution. Best of luck.

  How would he know how long the enemy would stay put? If he was listening to that lying sack of shit Garustfulous now, I’d cream them both. Oh well. I couldn’t change a thing just then. I did see the point that it was better to have the Adamant drive off EJ rather than risk his co-opting the cube. But he’d be back. If the Adamant hung around thirty days, he’d be back in thirty-one. Okay, a break. I knew where he’d be and when. I also knew how long I had to come up with a winning plan to snuff him out. It was so easy, I felt guilty.

  Not.

  SEVEN

  “No, Series Commander Bevelotor, that is an unfair characterization of the facts.” Grand Inquisitor Kerof Heldogra was treading the razor’s edge. To insult or, worse yet, correct his superior would mean genetic deletion. Every Adamant with DNA in common with him would be rounded up and turned into feed. Still, to let that bloated warthog pin the blame on him would be just as fatal for Kerof and his kin.

  “How would you characterize the facts, Heldogra? Hm? I send you armies, and you send me messages of condolences to forward to their families. I send you supplies, and you allow your opponent to destroy them in space. I give you time, and you give me ever-greater defeat and humiliation. How long do you fancy the Emperor will permit this head,” for clarity he rapped his knuckles on his skull, “to remain on this neck,” he indicated which neck he referred to, “if all I provide him with is shit in a basket tied with a pretty ribbon?”

  Kerof began to pant. “Sir, must I remind you that I am the sixth commander of the campaign on Azsuram. The five previous holders of that honor were either killed in action or by you for their shortcomings. We are not dealing with a normal enemy here, sir. The damn robot uses magic.

  “We are not dealing with the robot. You are. What’s more, you’re not dealing with him, you’re losing to him. You might as well beg Ryan to mount you in the Emperor’s reception chamber for the ill effect it is having on His Imperial Lord's mood.”

  “I know I was your second choice for this assignment. Had Wedge Leader Garustfulous not disappeared so mysteriously, he would have been in my position, failing just as badly as you claim I am.”

  Bevelotor’s image stared at Kerof with a stone face.

  “Is there a problem, sir?” asked Kerof.

  “I’m waiting for you to finish your list of inept excuses to justify your inept command. Dragging the proud name of my nephew through the mud with you will be, you’ll find, counterproductive.”

  “My apologies, sir. I am as frustrated with our lack of progress as you are. Is there no word as to what became of your nephew?”

  “None. He was on some secret mission and he disappeared. It’s as if a black hole swallowed him whole.” The old commander shook his head sadly. Then he focused on Kerof again. “I will give you until Dalisday to provide me some results, or otherwise I will make you wish you had been swallowed by a blackhole too. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir. Perfectly.”

  Halfway through the last word, Bevelotor terminated the subspace communication.

  Kerof placed his arms behind is back and paced his office floor. Were there any bucket list items he needed to cross off before Dalisday?

  EIGHT

  A few days short of the coast, the teens were most pleased with themselves. They’d avoided detection by two squads of Adaman
t and one large group of Azsuramegians, as the natives had come to be called. They found enough to eat and nothing had tried to eat them. That was always a trick when pretending to be some other species. As Deft, they knew who and what might attack them, but there was no way of knowing all the predators of a foreign species or their habits. Surprises were as unwelcome as they were common.

  Mirraya decided to take refuge in a cave they’d come across. It was a bit early to end their day’s journey, but good cover was too valuable to pass up. If the cave proved deep enough, they could chance a fire. That would make meals and warmth non-issues. The afternoon suggested rain was coming, so secluded comfort was even more desirable. Slapgren shifted into a wolf-like creature, in case they ran into a fearsome occupant in the cave. Mirraya stayed as she was to conserve energy. She knew her companion really liked to role-play as vicious beasties and didn’t mind fighting as one. Boys.

  Upon entry, the wolf yelped a little, to suggest some alert. Slapgren must not have felt the threat was sufficient to change into himself, only worth noting. They pressed on slowly. A few hundred meters in, she found the remnants of a fire that was long cold. The stone containment circle was randomly disrupted. Further on, she picked up some scraps of cloth and a crumpled can that once contained food. She felt reassured that the signs were old. Another distance back, she came across a cache of boxes. These were clearly new. The wood was fresh, the labels pristine, and everything was sealed.

  Slapgren changed back to his Deft form and studied the boxes, hundreds in number.

  “Can you read the labels?” he asked.

  “Not really. The characters don’t look like the Adamant script I saw back on the extermination ship. Wait, that one and that one,” she pointed to two boxes, “I can kind of read.”

  “Well, I say we open them and see if someone has generously provided us with dinner.”