by Trevor Wyatt
I motion for those still drawn into our conversation to look up ahead. Once it becomes clear that our private conversation is no longer private, everyone sits upright and focuses on John.
“Would you like to say something, Peter?” John asks aloud.
Peter doesn’t reply. He only shakes his head.
This surprises me. I have never known Peter to be someone who shies away from hugging the spot light. Also, there is no greater spotlight in this colony than the spotlight of being singled out during the campfire.
“Anthony, stand up.”
Anthony rises up behind us.
“Kindly brief us all on what the conversation was about.”
Anthony tells them everything. Everyone listens with rapt attention. I watch as their facial expressions turn from interest to anxiety to terror. Anthony ends with my assertion of the notion that the Sonali would not destroy a defenseless colony and Brad’s repulsive response to it. I do like how Anthony describes Brad’s offensive statement, though.
I glance at Kendra. She is looking at me, but her expression is hard to read. I try a smile, but she just keeps looking at me.
“Jake!” the priest calls.
I jerk up to my feet, all eyes on me.
“Do you believe the Sonali wouldn’t harm us here?” John asks.
I nod.
“Why?”
“Because there are laws in war,” I reply. “There are principles in war. While it’s important to defend one’s territorial integrity, it is also important to defend one’s inner integrity. The Terran Union has principles set down for how Armada conducts its warfare. When we fought the Outers, everyone steered clear of colonies.”
I know I wasn’t so coherent, but I have passed the basic ideas that reinforce my beliefs.
The priest nods with a smile. He shifts his gaze to Brad. “And you think otherwise?”
Brad remains seated. “I know otherwise,” he says. “Jake’s just saying all that because his family is here and they’re living their normal quiet lives. He doesn’t know just how brutal the war is and what both sides are doing to ensure they win. He and many people here don’t know that we are losing the war and losing ships and losing people…and losing colonies.”
A whisper strikes in the campfire and spreads around like a ripple.
I glance at Peter. Peter remains impassive.
“What do you mean losing colonies?” someone asks from the other side. Before I can look, the person is done talking. I can’t tell who asked the question, but I can tell from the looks on the faces around that they want to know the answer as I do.
The priest climbs off his stone and approaches us. He wades into the crowd until he’s standing above us. He’s wearing a cotton robe that’s tied around his body. He smells of an aromatic smoky substance, which wafts into my nostrils as he bends to pick up Peter.
Peter willingly follows the priest back to the camp fire, where the priest leaves him standing and inches away from him until he’s at the edge of the central space, blocking my view of Kendra.
“Tell us, Peter,” John says. “Tell us what you know. Knowledge can be a burden, when it is held alone. However, when it is shared, it can be relieving.”
Peter thinks long and hard on this before he agrees and begins to speak.
“The Sonali aren’t what we think they are,” Peter says. “They don’t give two shits about morality or about the means. They only care about winning this war and so far they have been effective in their tactics.”
Peter sucks in a deep breath before continuing.
“They don’t care that a planet is defended or not defended,” Peter says, “they don’t care that a ship has weapons or not. They destroy everything in their path and law waste to colonies.”
Terror sweeps across us like a powerful wave.
“They come like raiders in the night,” he says. “Most times they remain in the comfort of their ships and bombard the colonies. They target houses, utilities, structures that are standing, human settlement, densely populated or sparsely populated, they fire their weapons of mass destruction from above.
“They use gases that render whole planets uninhabitable. Millions have died so far. Millions more will die. Billions, in fact will die. And they keep pressing deeper and deeper into Terran space. So no, guys. No one is safe. No one. No colony is safe from the Sonali. If they appear in our scanners, we are gone. Just like Planet Beruit. Just like Planet Manliwa. Just like Planet Soshunaka. Just like the numerous colonies that have fallen to these blue freaks.”
Peter walks away from the center of the fire and comes to sit down beside me. I don’t realize that I am holding my breath until my vision begins to double. I let go and breathe easy.
There is a severe pounding in my chest.
John retakes the center of the camp. “You are possibly wondering if what Peter has said is true…”
His question is greeted by many nodding heads. I don’t nod, because I know it’s true. It has to be. How else could he have been so detailed? I could almost see the death and carnage and wastage.
“He is,” John says.
There is a cold silence.
“That is the reason for this campfire meeting,” John says. “You parents have been aware of this imminent danger. So they have asked me to inform you. Be diligent. Be prepared. We might be far from the border, but it doesn’t make us far from danger.”
He pauses and smiles—the kind that is sad and born from pity.
“You know,” he says, “knowledge is not always freedom. Sometimes it is a burden. We have carried this burden for a while, now you must carry this burden yourselves. There is nowhere to run or hide. With this knowledge, perhaps you can prepare for the inevitable.”
“What’s the Terran Armada doing to stop these fuckers?” someone yells from behind me. I don’t need to look back to recognize that it’s Blake’s voice. Also, only he would curse in front of all our teachers. Only he would be so stupid and irresponsible.
“The Armada is fighting as well as it can, giving the circumstances,” John replies. “If you’re asking if we are destroying colonies like the Sonali, the answer is yes.”
“What?” another unplanned outburst. It’s a girl near Kendra.
“That’s against the Terran Armada’s charter,” Tiffany points out.
“Indeed,” John replies. “But, Article X1 as presented by the Terran Council and signed by President of the Terran Union permits any and all acts to be carried out by the Terran Armada in executing its primary function of ensuring the survival of our and the integrity of our galactic space.
“It means they can do whatever they want,” John ends by saying. “It’s not at all ideal. History will definitely make us pay for it, but all is fair in war. Return to your various homes and think on this. Some of you are old enough to go off to fight in this war. You may want to consider what you’re walking in. Good night.”
Everyone stands at the same time. The area quickly descends into a disarray with chatter and uncoordinated movement. However, the general mood is silent and restrained. I traverse the area to Kendra’s last known position, hoping to God that she would still be interested in going out with me to the waterfall. I know I no longer have any desire to go, though I know it’ll probably return in about an hour, when my mind has rationalized some of the things I’ve heard.
Some people want to talk with me, but I wave them off. I find Kendra hanging on the very edge of the expanding group of people. She’s carrying a backpack, where everything we’ll need is packed.
She manages a smile when I walk up to her.
“Hi,” she says.
I hug her first. She hugs me back and sobs lightly.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get out of here.”
We wait until no one is looking at us before we slip away from the group of people.
The town is dead asleep. We are the first ones to leave the center, so we surreptitiously traverse the tiny streets, with terrifying s
ilence everywhere. We get to the edge of town, walking straight into the woods without a second thought.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know Rufus is out there fighting. I’m sorry that you had to hear all of that.”
“It’s okay, Jake,” she replies.
We make our way deeper into the woods. The trees are mighty tall, thin and well-spaced. A carpet of leaves, dried, flaky leafs cover the ground. They crunch as me walk further through. The light the moons provide is sufficient for us.
Even though I know the woods are totally safe as there are no wild animals or killers around here, I am still unnerved by the eerie silence. What if the Sonali have managed to sneak up behind us and sent a patrol to watch our town? They may be watching us right now, waiting for the right time to pounce.
The crunch under our feet suddenly becomes so loud.
“He’s serving with one of the best pilots in the Armada,” Kendra says. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“He’s serving with Captain Jeryl Montgomery?” I ask.
Kendra lets loose a clipped burst of sarcastic laughter. “You think I’d be worried sick for him if he were serving with the Avenger of The Mariner?”
I feel stupid again. I shake my head.
“No, he’s not serving aboard The Seeker,” Kendra says. “He’s serving on The Celestia. He’s their chief medical officer.”
“I hope he’s alright,” I say.
“That makes two of us.”
When we get to the waterfall, I already know it’s not going to work. We are both too tensed to feel anything between us but fear. Nevertheless, we go through the motion of setting up. The inflatable bed goes up first. Then the light bots fills the area with incandescent light and warmth.
I set up the music player with a smooth R n B song by some guy on Earth. There’s food in the back. However, we decide to forgo that.
While Kendra crawls into the bed, I walk to the cliff (we set up ten yards away from the cliff, just on the edge of the woods). The waterfall looks amazing, but its roar is quite deafening. Somehow, this reminds me how absolutely far we are now from the town—just me and Kendra.
This night was supposed to be peaceful. But I can’t seem to shrug off my thoughts about the war.
The cliff is about a hundred yards in the air. The water is deep enough for someone to survive the fall…in theory. Nobody has ever tried.
“Jake?” Kendra calls. “Aren’t you coming?”
I join her in the bed. She curls up into my chest and we remain like that, staring at the stars. I realize that she didn’t even notice the waterfalls. She’s been bugging me for three weeks now to take her to the waterfalls. Now we are here and she so absorbed with the terrible news we both heard tonight to think about anything else.
I don’t blame her, because all I’m thinking about is the war. It almost makes me mad at Peter for bringing it up earlier. And the fact that he got his quality time with Tiffany right before mine and ruins mine makes me all the more incensed. But I realize the importance of all I’ve heard today.
Joining the Armada is not something I’ve even considered. However, it’s something I will consider once I return to the house. If mom agrees, I’ll sign up. It takes three months to go from sign up to the front lines. If I’m going to die, I might as well die on my own terms and not as some hapless bugger on some colony world the Sonali bombarded to smithereens.
After staring at the sky for so long in silence, I begin to feel sleepy.
Kendra puts her hand around me possessively and tightens it.
“Promise me that you’ll never leave me,” she whispers. Her voice vibrates in my chest and soothes my heart.
“Promise me,” she says again.
“I promise,” I say.
She exhales audibly and her body relaxes in mine. It feels so good to have her lie on me the way she’s doing. My mind begins to relax. Soon, we are in total sync our hearts beating as one.
Kendra falls asleep first. I follow seconds later.
I only close my eyes for what feels like a minute when I am woken by an impossibly loud explosion that causes the ground to tremble severely.
Kendra screams.
I jump out of the bed. My heart is hammering against my chest.
Above, I can see a massive ship in low orbit. Missiles rain down on the moon. It’s not just our settlement that’s being targeted. There are about seventeen settlements on this moon, all of which are being bombarded.
Another explosion—and then another. Kendra and I collapse in a heap at the thunderous report of the explosion. We look with horror as columns of smoke and raging fires erupt in the sky from where our town is.
I shoot to my feet and break into a run towards town.
“Jake!” Kendra screams from behind.
“Stay there!” I reply, not looking back.
More missiles strike the settlement. All I’m thinking about now is getting my mom and dad out of that place. I begin to curse the moment I made the decision to go to the waterfall.
Halfway through the woods, a missile explodes near me. I am caught in the blast radius and flung several yards back. I slam my head against a tree, bounce off another, and come to the ground, unconscious.
I wake up to a terrible headache and to Kendra crying. Her face, which is over me, is puffy and red from enormous crying. She hugs me the moment she notices I’m awake, and helps me to my feet.
The first thing I do is look up. It’s fully daylight. I must have been out for hours. The ship is also gone from the orbit.
“What happened?” I ask.
Kendra says, “They’re all gone.” Then she bursts into tears again.
I leave her and limp towards the town. Ten minutes later, I get to the edge of the woods and stop short.
The town is no more. Everything has been leveled. There’s only powdery piles of rubble and the smell of burnt flesh. I can see across the entire town. Nothing is left standing.
I fall to my knees and weep aloud, overwhelmed.
Kendra comes to my side and weeps along with me. Through her tears, she pulls her wrist communicator. “I tried calling others,” she says her words muddled in her tears. “No one’s answering. They are all gone, Jake. Five million people. All our friends. Our family. All gone.”
As I listen to Kendra I am inundated with an immense feeling of sadness and rage mixed together that threaten to tear me apart.
Later, we walk through the town. The explosives had been so powerful they had practically vaporized everyone. We don’t find anybody, though we see remnants of tissues and the pervading smell of wasted human flesh.
It takes us most of the day of walking through and through the ashes of our past existence, and we do come to grips with the fact that our families and lives are gone.
We’ve come to bitterly accept that we are now the last survivors.
Our morals. Our integrity. Our lives.
Nothing else matters.
The Beruit Massacre
We are the worst of the worst. The cruelest of the cruelest, yet we cannot say that we are the best of the best. Every Sonali soldier hates the Terrans. At least that’s what we’ve been made to believe. As for me, I am not so sure I hate a people I have not even had the chance to meet.
It’s barely three months since the Terran Union President declared war on Sonali. It came as a mild surprise to us that a race as painfully inferior as Terrans would take such a step. In fact, most of us in the military caste saw it as an insult, much like a dog would feel if a fly were to challenge it.
Gladly, we rode to war, butchering the weaklings wherever they were in the galaxy. We’ve been picking them one by one for we are in no hurry to exterminate them from existence. I mean, these Terrans are so weak. Forget our advanced starship vessels. Forget our advanced particle beam blasters. Even close quarter’s combat, they are so weak and feeble, that one must wonder how they rose out of the evolutionary soupy puddle.
“Fellow brothers!” roars the sub-legate
of my hundred man unit, Colonel Zelvin Grayhill aka Colonel Zel. He’s a burly-looking Sonali male with a fierce and furious look and zero iota of love for the Terrans. He’s standing on one of the long and narrow rows of tables that fill up the massive mess hall. He’s holding a bottle of rakjtag on one hand and a pretty looking Sonali woman who’s dressed in such a provocative manner in his other hand.
“Tonight we drink and we fuck,” he says. The soldiers around yell in acquiescence, drumming their metal cups on the bench and humming deeply such that the entire hall begins to vibrate.
“And tomorrow night we slay the Terrans, burn their towns, rape their women, kill their leaders, bomb their buildings and level their goddamn colonies for Sonali Prime!”
“For Sonali Prime!” the entire room replies.
It’s such a thunderous reply that I shiver. I’m in the back of the room, sitting by my plate of soup and metal cup of water. The soup is syrupy and filled with all the essential vitamins and minerals that a Sonali would ever need. Rumor has it that it’s also infused with some psychotropic agent. How else can you justify some of the atrocities this particular military outfit has committed?
Atrocities that Sonali Prime would never publicly admit to, yet it is one of the most efficient and most funded division in the Sonali Ground Forces.
Hell Fire Brigade.
All is fair in war, it seems.
I don’t have rakjtag in my cup. I only have water. Unlike Terrans, Sonali don’t really need water to survive. We aren’t wired that way. In fact, we can go months without a sip of water. As long as we’re breathing in argon, we are good.
But it’s compulsory for every soldier aboard this transport vessel to feed and drink at least once every day because the government needs your strength to destroy the Terrans.
Yeah, about that, I’m not really down with it. Still, in a system that kills off the weak and prunes the strong, I have to remain strong, otherwise I’ll lose my life.
You see, the Sonali Army is not like the Tyreesian Army or the other armies of the other races we have come in contact with. The Sonali Army is unorthodox in the way it governs its people. There’s a chain of command. But in other armies, if you breach the chain of command, you are court-martialed or exiled or something along that line.