The Starlight Fortress

by Fiona Rawsontile

  He headed downstairs, every footstep adding to the vast emptiness in the house. She also began climbing up, but a moment later his voice came from below. “Why don’t you quit your job?”

  She froze. She heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. “What did you say?” She leaned over the railing and looked down.

  “Quit your job and go with me!” He backed up a few steps to see her. Several maids peered into the stairway with curiosity when they passed by.

  “Quit my job …” That idea had never occurred to her in the past. She didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something. “I eat a lot, and I know nothing about house chores.”

  He must have smiled. “I can’t afford a house of this size, but I won’t let you starve.”

  “You just don’t want me to be your boss.” She wiped her face.

  “A housewife is a boss, the ultimate one … Well, think about it!” He turned around and left.

  Chapter 11

  Geneva didn’t sleep well that night. Nor did the rest of the world. Emperor Pompey, the ruler of Thyphol and its eleven colonies in the Renaisun-C system, had sent Queen Hayleigh of Treagium an ultimatum, demanding the surrender of her country in three days. Geneva waited until Edwards boarded his ship. Then she rushed to meet her officers.

  At the entrance of the conference room, William stopped her. “Your Majesty, can I have a word with you?”

  She peeked into the room and walked away with him. “I only have a minute, sir. And I hope this is not about personal affairs.”

  “There is no personal affair with a monarch, ma’am, not after you’ve just dashed your people’s last hope. Did you watch the news this morning? He has to leave! That’s beyond question.” He paused, took a breath, and then said something she wasn’t prepared for, “The only way for you to be with him, ma’am, is to quit your job.”

  Geneva bit the inside of her lips. A smile slowly emerged on her face. “I’m not leaving, sir. Nor is he.”

  At first, she had seriously considered running away with Sterling, but after a night’s meditation she decided against that option. If she left, Calvin would take her position. Being several years younger than she, he would be incapable of controlling the situation. Alternatively, William could take charge of military issues. He would’ve been a perfect leader if this were a regular war. Unfortunately, he was not the right type to deal with their enemy.

  Besides, she knew what her strength was. In some sense, she was made by the things she owned. She didn’t care about those things, but she couldn’t risk losing herself.

  “I’m sorry I have to go now.” She was ready to leave.

  “It wouldn’t be wise to keep disappointing your people, ma’am. You weren’t elected, but whoever granted you power can always take it away.”

  “What does power mean to somebody who has no freedom?”

  “Freedom!” William sighed. “Freedom is not what others allow us to do. Our desires, our personality, is what prevents us from seeing all the possibilities. But how could I judge you!” Turning, he sounded tired. “Nobody wants easy solutions. The path through thorns always looks more appealing …”

  Watching him disappearing in the hallway, Geneva decided to give some thought to his words. Not now. When she had the time. She entered the conference room at a normal pace. She could tell some of her officers were getting impatient, but she took her time. She took her time to sit down and turn on the computer. However urgent the situation was, it would do little help to panic. Her father once told her, “There are occasions when you have to rush, but more than often, composure is what people want the most from their leader.”

  “In case you haven’t heard of what happened last night …” The stillness of her audience made her voice unusually loud. “Two bad news: we will not receive help from Artorna, and we may lose some of our allies soon. I’m sorry if I failed to meet your expectations, but mostly I regret for being foolish to waste our precious time, which should’ve been used to prepare for the upcoming battle. Questions?”

  She browsed through her officers, who looked less agitated than a moment ago. Accepting the reality, however bad it was, always had a calming effect.

  She waited for a minute. “Sir Lloyd, have we heard back from Treagium?”

  “No, ma’am. They have shut themselves off since last night. Likely making their decision now.”

  “Do you think they will submit?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if they do. They’ve been depending on Ribbon Islands for homeland security. With the moon base devastated and the rest of us all on the other side of the sun, Treagium would be defenseless if Pompey made it his sole target, as he has threatened in the ultimatum.”

  “We won’t let that happen!” Geneva said. “Maybe we could let them borrow our Second Fleet.”

  “That can be our next step,” Wilson said. It took Geneva a moment to recognize the old admiral, the quarrelsome child at the party last night. He had shaved his signature beard. The authority in his voice was unquestionable. “Sending our ships over without talking to them would look like threatening. We need an emissary, somebody who’s able to express our sincerity and win them over.”

  “An emissary. All right. Do we have a volunteer?” she asked, looking around but avoided the corner where Sterling was sitting. She knew he had a friend in Treagium.

  “I’ll go, ma’am,” she heard him speaking. “I know someone in the Treagian Fleet. He might be able to help at some point.” Then he added softly, “And I’m the one who screwed up the help.”

  She turned to look at him. You’re not supposed to travel! She said to him in her head, remembering the fortuneteller’s word. Then she turned back to the rest of the audience. “Is it necessary to send our emissary now before having resorted to other possibilities?”

  Most of her officers dodged her gaze, except Wilson. “Ma’am, you know Pompey isn’t interested in that cold continent. He’s afraid of the fortress. We would not stand a chance if we lose our best bet. I will go there.” He rose from his chair. “I’ll talk to Hayleigh in person.”

  Now Geneva too had to stand up. Maybe she should have run away with Sterling last night. “Commander Presley, do you have an idea how you’re going to persuade our ally?”

  “No, but I’ll think about it on my way.”

  She nodded, trying not to think too much for the moment. “If anytime during your visit the circumstances are beyond control, your mission is ended.” And just come back!

  “I won’t disappoint you, ma’am,” he said and walked out of the room.

  * * *

  Although the three Sunpherean fleets were prepared to fight regardless of their ally’s decision, the citizens were not optimistic about the battle. Flights to the Renaisun-C were sold out instantly. Long lines formed inside grocery stores with TVs hung above cash registers showing the latest news and news analyses. In an effort to stabilize the situation, the queen was arranged to give a press conference and a public speech on Tuesday evening.

  “Your Majesty, how would you predict Treagium’s reaction to the ultimatum?”

  Based on the journalist’s accent, Geneva knew he must have come from Rainprus. “I’m sure they will make the right decision.” She tried to sound affirmative. It was possible that the Treagians were watching her at the moment. If Sterling failed to persuade them, her comments would serve a similar purpose. “Their government, their citizens and soldiers are patriotic and righteous people, just like us. Even without a large population, they have world-leading civilian and military research. In the past they have fought bravely for their country’s integrity, and I believe that they wouldn’t give in no matter how tough the situation appears to be. If our enemy takes revenge on them, we, the Sunphereans, will be fighting with them, as an ally should be.”

  After the man sat down, a woman journalist stood up. “Ma’am, there were several protests yesterday in regards to your relationship with Prince Edwards. Do you have anything to say?”
>
  The protests, yes, Geneva watched the TV on the previous night, and still remembered the pale-faced woman shouting inside the crowd. “My son died in your army! He was only twenty-two. When you asked others to make sacrifices for you, what did you do in return?”

  I asked nobody to sacrifice for me, Geneva wanted to say, but she couldn’t argue with a hero’s mother. “I’m sorry for not being able to ally with Artorna.”

  “I heard the emissary you sent to Treagium is your boyfriend,” the woman continued. “Why did you let him take such a dangerous task?”

  “He’s the most suitable person to carry out this mission, and he’s a soldier. Dangers are what our soldiers deal with at every battlefield.”

  “Your Majesty,” someone else asked. “If Treagium decides to leave us, are we still able to defend ourselves?”

  That was a tough question, but Geneva was prepared. “There are different levels of defense, and different forms of fighting. We will do our best to defeat the intruders and to protect our home, but depending on how it progresses, we may need to adopt various strategies, including temporary retreats from certain areas of our realm to preserve our forces, and switches of full-scale battles into sustained brushfires. But in any case, we …”

  She stopped speaking and looked around. Something bad must have happened, and it was related to her. A few journalists had let go their cameras and started typing on laptops; others picked up their phones and checked messages. A soldier sneaked in from a side door and whispered something to Oakley, who was seated at her side with a few officers. Oakley threw her a quick glance and looked away.

  “Admiral Oakley.” Her mouth went dry, and she knew her face must look pale. “Is there something I need to know?”

  At first, Oakley showed no response. Then with a quick gathering of strength he pushed him to a stand. “Your Majesty, Treagium has just declared war on us.”

  The news dashed her hope, but she remained collected. All right, she told herself. That’s it, and we’re prepared. Then she saw the journalists re-tuning their cameras at her, and the suppressed anticipation and excitement on their faces. She realized the worst part was yet to come.

  “According to our ambassador,” Oakley said solemnly, “Queen Hayleigh had submitted to Thyphol before our emissaries arrived. They didn’t announce their decision until the fortress was fully under the enemy’s control. Our emissaries were demanded to leave, but on their way back, they encountered a group of enemy … Our ship was destroyed.”

  That was silly! Geneva left her desk and headed to an exit. Nothing made sense! Then she stopped after a few steps, turned, and walked back to her desk. “I’m sorry. Are there more questions for me?”

  Nobody said anything, or maybe someone did but she couldn’t hear it. For a while she simply stood there, isolated, trying to figure out the rationality behind the story, behind everything. But nothing made sense! She was frustrated. A seemingly logical world, full of chaos …

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.” Wilson stood up at her side, his voice coming from a long distance. “I made a stupid suggestion.”

  Responsibilities, she thought. That was why things happened this way. At present her responsibility was to stand through the questions and give her speech. If she were going to die, she’d die at the moment it ended. “You made the right suggestion, sir … Does anyone else have questions?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” she heard a man saying quickly. “How do you feel about the death of your boyfriend?”

  The audience had been quiet since Oakley announced the bad news, but now it was a different type of silence. Geneva traced the sound and located the speaker. A stranger’s face, yet she bet he was from the Righteousness Media. Focus on the question, she told herself. This was a question she had to answer well.

  “As the Head of State, I feel as bad as when any soldier in our army dies in a battle. As his girlfriend, I’m one of the women in this country who lost their lovers.”

  “Hmm …” The journalist appeared confused and dissatisfied. “Shouldn’t you feel worse since you were the one who sent him out?”

  “As I said, it was the correct choice under that circumstance.”

  “Of course, our government always makes the correct choice.” The man sat down, but his colleague took over. “Ma’am, what would be our immediate action in response to Treagium’s decision?”

  “I’m sorry. I need to discuss it with my officers before I could provide a definite answer.”

  “What if … there’s nothing we could do?”

  “To me, the question is not what we could do—it’s what we could not do. When our emissaries took the mission, they knew well about the dangers ahead, yet they couldn’t allow the faintest hope to slip without giving it a try. And I’d like to remind you one thing …” She gazed at the two journalists who had just spoken to her. Never take it personal with a journalist—her father’s advice—but this time she was going to make an exception. “That when our soldiers are dying out there to protect this country, you are not excluded.”

  She waited for a while, and nobody else had questions. She picked up the speech draft from the desk, held it in a hand, but didn’t open it.

  “I was going to talk about honor and patriotism, about faith and courage. Now I just realized how vain those things could be.” She set the paper back to the desk. “Why would a farmer care about those things? Most of us, most of our parents and grandparents are farmers, diligent, honest, proud. We’ve been providing the world with the best products for two centuries. Even during the most difficult times we didn’t raise the price. To a farmer, what really matters is the land. That’s his home, his soul. And beyond the land, there is his dignity. The dignity to guard the things he’s granted, to protect people he cares about, to strike back when being struck.

  “And to stand as nobody’s inferior.”

  She looked around. There were no more than fifty people in the room, but she felt her words reaching millions of her citizens through the cameras.

  “Some people think we are at the end of a free country, we do not stand a chance in what’s going to come next. Yes and no. I say yes not because we have less fancy weapons and warships compared to our enemy’s. When a nation dies, it dies from inside. If you’ve lost your faith, yes, we are going to lose the battle. I say no because I still have hope, and I have reasons for my hope.”

  She paused. The room and the audience faded out from her world. Time rewound to the morning when he first stepped into her office, his uniform free of wrinkles, the quiet manner forming a distinct contrast to her rambling …

  “War is about the people who fight it. When they fight together with the same belief, they form a single entity. That’s why heroes are never singular events; they are always followed, repeated, exceeded. I have hope because once the fire has started, it’ll stop at nothing until it takes over. I need to say no more. The game is on. We’ve made our choice. Everyone’s effort will count, every hope will open a possibility, and every pain we’ve suffered … will add to our strength.”

  Chapter 12

  Between the orbits of Planets RA-3 and RA-4, a tiny spaceship was drifting away from the sun. Surrounding the ship were hundreds of ball-shaped satellites forming a sphere with a diameter of roughly a mile. Inside the ship, a topless young man in floral boxers stood in front of a computer, his body swaying with the heavy-metal music coming out of a speaker.

  “Guess what?” he said to the air, his head tilted and hands spreading out. “None of the probe’s missing! Those so-called experts knew there is no pathway here. They just don’t want to lose their job. But that’s okay. I don’t want to lose my job either.”

  He moved over to a window and pressed his face against it. In the distance, the river formed of numerous warships was still flowing, and he couldn’t make out an end in either direction. “Gonna take a while.” He shook his head and left for the bathroom. The battle was about to start and this was his last “morning” in space. His colleagues
had all gone home.

  Ten minutes later he came out with a toothbrush held in his mouth. The computer was flashing and beeping, but the music was too loud for him to notice it. He opened a cabinet mounted below the window and fumbled inside. Then his body froze, and the toothbrush fell to the floor.

  The river was gone. Instead he saw a gigantic star—no, not a star—a starfish. A starfish the size of a castle, made of black metal and dazzling lights. “Beautiful …” He was lost in the sight, marveling. Then he realized what he was looking at. It had to be the fortress! He never saw it before but he had heard people talking about it. The fortress was usually placed close to the Stony Band. When stone debris approached the fortress, its five limbs could rotate easily to avoid being hit. Similar strategies can be used to dodge incoming missiles.

  He jumped away from the window and ran to the computer. Impossible! He was now at RA-5’s orbit? So … so there was a pathway, and he’d just been through it!

  “What should I do? What should I do?” He slammed a button on the table and the music broke off. He had been keeping up with the situation and knew the fortress had been taken over by the enemy. Erase the data—that was what they told him during his training—if he were to be captured by the enemy. A beam of bright light penetrated the window. He heard a loud bang and was thrown to the floor. He grabbed a leg of the table as the ship accelerated toward the fortress. He had to erase the data! He climbed up along the table and reached out for the keyboard …

  * * *

  Inside the river of warships marching toward the Stony Band, a supercarrier outshined its fellows with its magnificent appearance. It was the Levitation, the newly launched flagship for Rear Admiral Rafael Tait.

  “What’s our current location?” Rafael asked, sitting at the front of the Combat Direction Center. The screen beside him showed the exact location of the Sunpherean Second and Third Fleets, but reading numbers shouldn’t be his job.