“We’ve tried but couldn’t get close, sir. The enemy seemed determined to block our reinforcement away.”
“I said bring it back!” Rafael flung his arm and grabbed the officer’s collars. “We can all die, you and I! But not the Caparise!”
The officer flushed and struggled for breathing. Rafael released him and headed to his control station. As he was about to issue orders, blazing lights flashed outside of the window. He turned his head, the intercom slipping off from his grip. It was too late. The Caparise broke into parts among massive explosions. Rafael leaned over to the nearby table to regain balance. He shouldn’t have left her. A captain should never abandon his ship …
Lost in time, he didn’t notice that his officers’ grieves had been replaced by excitements. They were gathering in front of a screen and speaking meaninglessly. When his sensations resumed functioning, he heard them saying, “Yes, that is Her Majesty! She came here to support us!”
He looked up at the screen and saw the queen fully dressed in her uniform. She was standing inside a ship. Behind her, a blue planet glowed outside a window.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you help or solutions.” Her voice came out from a speaker. “I just want you to know that the decision is up to you. If you choose to give up, I’ll be the one to negotiate. If you stand to the last minute that would also be the last minute of my life …”
Whatever! Rafael pushed himself away from the table and staggered out of the bridge.
* * *
At the back of the Sunpherean First Fleet berthed the ship that was supposed to transport the queen to a safe place. She didn’t come just to support her soldiers. She hoped that her appearance here, which should be learned soon by the enemy, could act as a distraction and buy her officers some time for the repair of their ground-to-air system.
“Ma’am,” a maid said hesitantly behind her. “Headquarters said they received a communication request from … from Emperor Pompey. They are wondering if—”
“Who?” Geneva was unable to believe her ears. “Sure! Let me talk to him.”
A moment later the maid handed her a speakerphone.
“I’m calling to pay my respects, Geneva.” He sounded so close. “I wish your peers had half of your courage.”
Geneva said nothing. To tell the truth, she wasn’t a brave person. If Sterling hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have done this. What was scary about death when life itself had become a routine, a duty?
“I have to say that I was deeply touched by your recent public speech,” Pompey continued. “And the anecdotes with those gentlemen—how entertaining!” He chuckled, apparently reliving whatever had entertained him. “You know, since you joined the game we were having a lot more fun.”
Fun? She clenched the phone at the thought of Sterling and the Caparise, but she managed to momentarily set aside her resentment. The only way to outplay a maniac was to keep a cool head and act crazier. “It’s a degradation to game with you, Pompey. If I were you I’d go home and hide in bed. With that many ships you have and that many advantages over us, an idiot would’ve beaten us by now.”
“It wouldn’t do you any good to insult me, Geneva.”
“Who could insult you if you had the least self-respect? Take a look at how we fight each other, Pompey. You bring down one of my ships, and I take yours. There’s no intelligence. If you win in the end, that’s simply because you have more to begin with.”
“I don’t think so. It’s true that this time you guys are performing much better than in the past, but your allies won’t hold much longer. The game won’t last long. Two more hours, maybe? I’ll let you choose if you’d like to be my prisoner or subordinate.”
“Two hours …” Geneva thought quickly and decided to bet on his pride. “I have a new game, Pompey, if you dare play it.”
“What is it?” He sounded interested.
“You know where I am, right? If in three hours your men catch me, alive or dead, you’ll have my country’s immediate surrender. If after three hours, the battle has not ended and I’m still at large, you and your fleets go back to your system.”
For an awfully long moment, the only sound she heard was her own breath.
“Deal.”
* * *
Within a few minutes Geneva had gathered ten Coyotes, the fastest transports in her fleets, but Pompey wasn’t slow either. On the situation map, she saw two flotillas bypassing the third defense line and coming toward where her ship was located. Her initial plan was to have the ten Coyotes connect to her ship one after another, but with the approaching enemy she had to think of something else. She moved around and collected eight identical spacesuits with propellers. She kept one for herself, and handed out the rest to her maids and guards. After they were all dressed, they left the ship at the same time, and each dove toward a different Coyote.
While the reinforcement from her First Fleet was trying to hold up the enemy, the ten Coyotes split into groups and headed in various directions. Half an hour later, six of them were already captured by the enemy. The rest were well-protected by her ships, but the enemy seemed determined to get them.
Geneva wasn’t in any of the Coyotes, though. She had been wandering in space until she made certain that the enemy’s attention was completely drawn to the Coyotes. Then she headed to a nearby Sumattack and attached herself to the ship with a suction cup tied to her spacesuit. She chose the Sumattack because it had a screw-cap kind of stern, which was perfect for hiding.
As the ship carried her through the battlefield, she couldn’t help thinking how cruel it was to fight in space. There was no shelter or trench to be used as protections, no severe weather to give people a break. The wreckage of a ship was often followed by the death of the whole crew, because a ship that had lost its control in space would keep running at a fixed speed, unless it clashed into something. Even if the crew managed to escape from the ship with spacesuits, the chance of them being picked up by their fellows was slim.
She glanced at her watch. An hour had passed since she left her ship. Great! Her oxygen should be good for a few more hours. She had switched off the intercom for fear the enemy could track her down, but as soon as …
A large shadow quietly emerged from behind the ship, only a dozen yards away from where she was. Before she had a chance to identify the stranger ship, a row of guns came into sight and the salvo began. She turned back and tried to take the suction cup off from the Sumattack, but for some reason it wouldn’t come off. The blast at the hull was all around her. Even if she remained lucky not to be hit directly, the flying shells and debris would eventually damage her spacesuit. Gathering all her strength she tore the other end of the cup off from her suit and pushed herself away. Where should she go now? Would the enemy find her if she just hung around doing nothing?
* * *
“We lost track of Her Majesty, sir,” said the special team responsible for keeping track of the queen’s whereabouts.
Oakley waved a hand and dismissed them. He just had an argument with Lloyd. He wasn’t questioning Lloyd’s motivation, but how much did that guy know his niece? Anyone who closely worked for the queen wouldn’t have believed that she’d hide in a safe place when her people were in danger.
He stared at the situation map. With their second defense line constantly retreating toward RA-4’s orbit, soon the two battlefields would emerge. She shouldn’t have done that! Matthew had just called, saying his fleets were unable to resist any longer. Oakley didn’t blame him. His own Second Fleet had lost its spirit after the destruction of the Caparise and the collapse of his favorite officer, Rafael Tait. The battle would end soon, and where should they go find her? It wasn’t like losing someone on the ground. The outer space was thinner than the air and deeper than an ocean …
Sensing some noise and chaotic movements occurring at his back, Oakley’s face darkened. Soldiers should never lose their composure even in life-and-death situations. But before he scolded anybody, he heard someone
exclaiming, “Yes! The Storm Center! We made it!”
He checked the situation map and saw a large star-shaped symbol at the center of the enemy’s fleets. Was that the Starlight Fortress? It couldn’t be! It was now the enemy’s property and had been lingering around the Stony Band since the beginning of the battle. There was no way for it to appear here, unless …
“There must be a secret pathway!” he heard Wilson saying. “But it can’t go through a pathway! It’s too large … wait, I know! I know! The five limbs can be folded. What a smart design!”
The fortress was back to help them. It had just destroyed the enemy’s Storm Center. What did that mean? Oakley clenched his fists, enjoying the noise around him. For the first time in his thirty-year military life, he was unable to think.
* * *
Geneva rolled around in hopes of spotting any possible help in the nearby space. She was running out of oxygen. One of the two tanks must have broken during the earlier gunfire. But all she could find was a large gathering of enemies in the near distance. Was that the so-called storm center? What a mess!
As she looked back again, she saw two Thypholian ships running toward her at full speed. They were still quite far, but sooner or later she’d be caught. No need to hide anymore. She switched on her intercom and cranked up the maneuvering unit.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” An anxious voice came through the intercom. “We got your position. We’ll send over …”
Words faded away as she was astonished by what she was seeing. An umbrella, a giant folded umbrella had just emerged out of the thin air—or the vacuum, whatever—not far from the Storm Center. The umbrella spread out its five limbs and transformed into a starfish the size of a castle, firing at the enemy in no time. Impossible! She shook her head. Must be an illusion because she was low on oxygen. The fortress was their enemy …
A tuck net tightened around her and changed her flying course. She looked up and saw the end of the net connected to one of the ships that had been chasing her. She was captured. It was all over now. And she’d die from lack of oxygen before she was brought to Pompey.
Something zoomed around her and when she looked up again, she was now carried away by a fighter plane. The top of the net was hanging out from an open window. It must be held by someone inside. Was she saved by her people? The little hope gave her strength to climb up inside the net until her arms reached the frame of the window. There were two pilots sitting inside the cabin. She could only see the face of the one at the back, the one that was holding the net and smiling at her through the transparent helmet.
It wasn’t the kind of look that normally reminded people of a soldier. Whoever owned those sapiential eyes were unlikely to blindly follow commands, or to kill another human being even when it was his enemy. She smiled back at him, but ducked away from his hand before it touched her. That’s against the rule. She told him quietly in her head. She had similar dreams in the past two days, with different time and locations. She could watch him from a distance, but as soon as he came too close or said anything aloud, he would vanish, and the dream would be over. She would soon find herself waking up in her spacious bedroom, in the middle of a long night, alone.
Chapter 14
“So, Commander … Captain Presley, are you going to tell us your story?” Admiral Wilson asked, getting ready for another chunk of steak.
“Yes, sir.” Sterling put down his fork. In fact, he hadn’t touched anything on his plate since the royal celebration dinner started half an hour ago. Nor did Geneva—he could tell—who was sitting at the other end of the long table. They didn’t talk much at the fortress before her ship came to pick her up. A couple of hours later, he left for Sunphere in a Treagian ship with Phillip Benvenutto, his best friend who grew up with him in their hometown. He hadn’t slept for thirty hours and basically flaked out the moment he boarded the ship. The next thing he remembered was standing under the bright sun and surrounded by hundreds of frantic citizens who were shouting his name—the hero’s name. Then he had to stand through the ceremony to receive his promotion and the Medal of the Quadruple Heart, followed by the speeches given by William and Lloyd, and now a dinner that seemed to last forever.
“When we arrived at the palace, we were told that Queen Hayleigh was in a meeting. They let us wait inside”—which was nice on such a cold continent. Sterling could still feel the chill as he relived the moment. “But then they said the queen didn’t want to see us, and we should leave the country immediately.”
“That was rude,” commented Wilson, his chewing uninterrupted. “Keep going.”
* * *
Disappointed, Sterling had to obey the order. Just as they were about to leave the front gate of the palace, however, they were caught up by a group of royal guards from behind.
“Can’t believe I’d see you here, Commander Presley.”
Sterling traced the voice and recognized the queen’s youngest son, Owen. Wearing a short fur coat over a tight crew shirt, Owen was a mixture of a hunter and a wolf.
“You should’ve left when we were still allies. I’m sure the emperor would be happy to see Queen Geneva’s brilliant boyfriend caught before the battle starts … Arrest them.”
Sterling and his men were immediately surrounded by the guards, but fortunately Phillip had learned his arrival and showed up at the right moment.
“You can’t do that, Your Highness,” Phillip said. “This would violate the General Warfare Agreement. When they came here, they were still our allies. Besides, Her Majesty has permitted them to leave.”
“You have no business here, Captain Benvenutto.”
Phillip glanced at a group of journalists across the street. They had been gathering there since the announcement of the ultimatum. “Her Majesty wouldn’t be happy to see this in the news.”
Owen gave Phillip an ominous look and left with his guards.
That evening, Phillip called Queen Hayleigh’s brother-in-law, who used to be his direct superior before he assumed captain of his ship. Finally, Hayleigh agreed to meet Sterling on the following afternoon.
“Our situation’s different, Commander Presley.” Hayleigh must have gone through a lot lately. A thin layer of blond hair fringed her dry-skinned face like calyx around a withered flower. “You are lucky to have an agricultural country. The soil, if used properly, can last forever. Our land is too barren and cold to grow anything. For centuries our economy has been relying on mineral export, but one day there will be nothing left for us to dig up. That probably wouldn’t happen during my time, but my children will have to deal with it. It’s quite frustrating every time we look into the future.”
She paused and reached out for a pack of cigarettes on the table. Sterling also picked up his cup of tea. It was a fine piece of china and must cost some fortune. He thought of Geneva, the other queen in this system. Was she going to look like Hayleigh twenty years from now?
“And our population keeps shrinking, despite all the efforts to encourage childbirth. Young generations hate the weather and dream of moving to a warmer planet. Now we also lose them every time we fight a battle.” She lit up a cigarette and sat back. “Do you think we stand a chance against Thyphol, Commander Presley? Maybe this time, but there will always be a next. We’ve had enough! I don’t care how much autonomy we’ll receive. Either they use up our recourses, or we’ll do that anyway. People will find their way to survive.”
“I understand how you feel, ma’am. Some of our people also say it wouldn’t be too bad to give in to our enemy, assuming it brings an end. But there wouldn’t be an end soon. Greed never has an end.”
Hayleigh tilted her head. “You mean … Pompey’s next goal would be Artorna?”
“When Picasso Five took control of the last country in their system, people believed it was all over. To them, soldiers should retire and go home, weapons back to storage, and military contractors redirect their business to civilian projects. That never happens. Once we get it going, it’ll nurtu
re itself.”
“Sounds like a virus.” For the first time during the meeting, the queen smiled.
“It is.” Sterling recalled Charlie’s words. It’s rooted in our human nature. “Right now, the Imperial Fleets are from Thyphol’s colonies. If Pompey ever fights Artorna, our people will be sent to the front. It’s only going to be worse than now.”
Hayleigh said nothing. Sterling let a moment of silence slip in before he switched his tone. “When our ancestors all crowded on Planet Earth, some countries were born with scarcely any natural resource. Yet they grew into economic or military giants because their people didn’t give up. Ma’am, your country is leading in scientific research—”
“Partly because it’s too cold to have outdoor fun.”
Both of them smiled briefly.
“My boss’s still grudging about how much we paid you for the Instant Patchings. You should be proud of your people.”
“I am.” Hayleigh’s cigarette was about to burn out, but she had forgotten about it. “It’s too late, unfortunately. We’ve already submitted to Pompey. He asked us not to announce the decision yet. Not before he takes over the fortress.”
That was something Sterling had been preparing for on the way here. “Your men are still there, ma’am?”
“Some of them. Pompey doesn’t know how to operate the fortress, so he needs us to keep it running. He wouldn’t trust us enough to let the fortress participate this time, I think. He just needs to make sure we stay away from the battle.”
“That … may not be a bad thing, actually.”
Hayleigh raised her eyebrows.
“In the past, he wrote the screenplay before we even met at the front. It’s time to bring him a surprise.”
* * *
“So you told her about the new pathway?” Wilson asked. Then he took a bite of his dessert, looked down, and frowned.
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