Chapter 50
He saw their running lights in the far distance—mere pinpricks of illumination miles away—no fewer than seven or eight vessels were approaching in their direction. Moving slowly, yet making steady progress, they were flying low over the black terrain evidently searching for something. Cuddy’s thoughts turned to the Farlight. Would the vessel’s stealth capabilities hold up against certain scrutiny by that approaching fleet?
“We need to get back to the ship!” Cuddy said.
Approaching them, rapid footfalls could be heard. Cuddy stared into the darkness, instinctively balling his hands into tight fists. Spilor came into view and stopped in front of them. Cuddy hadn’t thought the spindly robot could move like that.
“Captain Perkins…the enemy approaches.”
“Get back to the Farlight! Have Marzon fire up her drives…we’ll be right behind you. Go!”
Brian’s expression turned both smug and condescending. Cuddy didn’t have time for him and set off at a dead run, heading back toward the village. As he approached the clearing where the two heritage pods had begun a slow, but progressive, closure process, the glowing Jahin, stared toward the horizon at the approaching vessels. At the one thing they feared most—the destructive technology the ships brought with them.
Cuddy found Dramin directing his people to get to their dwellings and to stay out of sight. Reaching him, and very much out of breath, Cuddy said, “No! You need to get your people into the woods…scatter! Your village…will be the first thing they hit.”
Dramin stared back at Cuddy. The leader of the Blue Forest clan, clearly afraid, was unsure he should trust the alien human, or not. Quickly turning to the cluster of fellow Jahin around him, he ordered, “Do as he says. All of you…hasten into the village and instruct everyone to leave their homes. Tell them to hurriedly collect their sprouts and leave everything else, their possessions, behind. That there is only time to hide and to hurry into the woodlands!”
“I’ll do everything I can to draw them away. We must go…I’m so sorry.” Cuddy wanted to offer more, but what else could he say? He’d brought the approaching calamity upon this small enclave that were peaceful—not a threat to anyone. “I’m sorry…” he said again. Spinning away, he yelled out, “Jackie! Kyle!”
Cuddy recognized his brother’s voice, shouting in the distance, “We’re over here!” And four silhouetted figures could be seen, running across the village’s central clearing area and heading for the distant tree line—toward the Farlight.
Cuddy ran flat out. The sound of low-flying ships, mingling with low-frequency vibrations, came up through the ground and into the soles of his shoes. His mind raced, a hell-storm of disjointed thought. Would they make it back to the ship in time? Where was Brian? Would he decide to join them after all? His most dominant concern revolved around the imminent, unavoidable coming battle. He wondered if there was a possible way to avoid violence—avoid any killing. He thought of Tow, who undoubtedly would choose to sacrifice himself, even his people, in place of reciprocity and violence.
Sprinting now, Cuddy was almost upon the others. He saw Jackie steal a quick look over her shoulder, while young Haffan had to take two strides for each one the others took just to keep up. In that moment he knew the answer to his internal turmoil. He would kill anyone—every last one of the approaching enemy—to protect those he loved.
Cuddy soon took the lead, dodging one way then another, around tree after tree. Twice, low-hanging branches smacked him in the face, causing blood to trickle down his cheek. Where’s the damn ship! He didn’t recall leaving it this far back into the woods. Is that weapon fire I’m hearing behind us? Oh God…the village.
Cuddy, at hearing the Farlight’s propulsion system start to wind-up, slightly altered his direction. Relieved at seeing it—barely visible in the nighttime shadows—he slowed, then stood aside, motioning for the others to hurry up the gangway. Taking a quick last look around, he shouted, “Brian?” Waiting a few seconds, he followed the others up the ramp.
Entering the lower-deck airlock, Cuddy heard the ship’s alarm klaxon bellowing above. Running, he made his way into the lift then onto the bridge. Marzon was there, standing at the Espy table.
Turning at Cuddy’s arrival, he looked more than a little exasperated. “Can we lift off now?”
“Most definitely! Get us up in the air,” Cuddy said, joining Marzon’s side, viewing the scene now taking place on the Espy. Seven Marauder ships, virtually identical to the Farlight, could be seen circling, periodically firing upon the Jahin village, which was already ablaze with high-reaching flames. Cuddy noted the level of destruction that had already taken place.
“We cannot go up against a force of that magnitude. We are far outnumbered,” Marzon said.
“And TK doesn’t seem to have much effect on the bastards…” Brian added, stepping up to the far side of the table and looking contrite. “I tried…wondered if I was losing my touch. But Marzon tells me those advanced Marauders are protected against those kinds of intrusion.”
Cuddy was happy to see Brian. Happy in spite of his obnoxiousness that he’d decided to stay with the team. “That’s right. We can’t affect the ships directly, nor their crews. Special shielding. But we can affect what’s near them.” Cuddy then pointed to a rocky ridgeline adjacent to the village, just beyond a large cropping of trees. “Those boulders—”
Brian cut him off: “Better if I can see them first hand.”
Cuddy directed new orders to the Howsh crewmember, sitting at the helm station. “You heard him…get the Farlight into position. Keep low over the treetops and double-check our stealth mode and that our running lights are turned off.”
Cuddy and Brian moved to the red railing and faced forward toward the large display screen. Bright energy bolts coursed through the air. Cuddy didn’t want to think about the loss of life below. How the Howsh were systematically firing on the defenseless Jahin, scattered about in the trees. It wouldn’t be long either before the Farlight was detected. No ship, no matter how well shielded, was totally invisible. Not when the enemy was so close.
“I see them. They are…huge!” Brian exclaimed, pointing to a cluster of enormous light-colored boulders.
“I can try to help,” Cuddy offered, acutely aware his TK abilities were pathetically inadequate compared with Brian’s.
“Just shut up and let me concentrate. You…at the helm…keep the damn ship steady!”
Cuddy closely watched the huge rocks along the ridgeline and below it though nothing could be seen happening. Maybe Brian’s trip into the Empyrean Expanse affected his abilities…
The others, Kyle, Tony, and Jackie, who was holding Haffan in her arms, were now standing at the Espy table.
“Put me down,” Haffan said to Jackie. Complying, Jackie watched the alien child run to the red railing to stand with Brian and Cuddy.
“I can help loosen the boulders from the cliff…but nothing else,” she said.
“Do it, Haffan! Hurry up, kid!” Brian said.
Gazing up at Cuddy, Haffan’s expressive eyes locked onto his, silently asking if that was what he wanted from her too. Almost imperceptibly—he nodded.
Chapter 51
The three stared intently at the display—at the wall of rock, looming hundreds of feet high and completely filling the screen. As they exerted their individual TK abilities, Cuddy picked up on the strained cadence in Brian and Haffan’s breathing—the tremendous stress put on both. The cacophony of plasma fire continued. How many more Jahin have died in just the last minute? Cuddy wondered.
Suddenly aware of Jackie standing right behind him, he heard her whisper in his ear: “Help them, Cuddy…you’re more powerful than you know. Don’t hold back, not this time. It is…okay…for you to do this.”
Cuddy’s eyes locked onto one of the massive rocks he’d arbitrarily selected and he briefly wondered if that exposed gray slab of cold sedimentary rock was like an iceberg. Only the tip visible, its true ma
ss lay submerged beneath the sea—below the ground. Focused inwardly, using TK, he pulled with everything he had within him. Mentally commanding his entire self—each hybrid human Pashier cell, the nucleus of each cell, their constructing molecules, the very atoms comprising the entity of Cuddy Perkins—to forge together in that instant. Unite. Committed. Unwavering. Cuddy watched as the massive slab began to tremble in place. In a sudden outward explosion of dirt and rubble, it came free.
Cuddy heard Jackie’s quick intake of air. The rock levitated momentarily before it was whisked high into the inky-dark sky above, but not before it careened into three attacking Howsh Marauder warships. Cuddy paid no attention to the explosions that ensued, his attention focused again on the boulder-strewn cliff. The next house-sized rock shook free, momentarily levitating, waiting for Brian’s TK ability to do its destructive bidding. Another three warships, like bugs splattering against an oncoming windshield, were then eviscerated.
Marzon said, “The movement of ten more Marauders had been detected leaving high orbit. Soon those vessels will be inbound…headed our way.”
Cuddy stared at the ragged cliff. Additional, far smaller, boulders had now come free, providing more TK artillery for Brian. He knew that was the work of Haffan.
It was time to end this. Cuddy figured there were no fewer than a couple dozen boulders embedded in the bedrock slope. He didn’t allow himself to think or consider the ramifications of his next course of action. Knowing it would be easier, from this point on, since he’d figured out the mental mechanics: How to raise his TK abilities to a level he never thought possible. Using both hands this time—in a rapid pulling motion—whatever was left of the cliff came free with that one simple movement, crumbling into itself, becoming little more than a great mound of pebbled dirt, while huge slabs of rock—enough to shape a small mountain—remained motionless up in the air. Suspended—waiting.
Cuddy’s work was done—the rest now up to Brian, who was clearly up to the task. One by one, the ginormous projectiles shot toward the next wave of incoming ships—ships which had zero chance of avoiding them—or of surviving.
The bridge instantly quieted. Only when Marzon spoke did Cuddy bring his eyes away from the display.
“The signal is almost undetectable but there are others.”
“Others?”
“Still in orbit, Howsh Marauders. Ten…could be fifteen,” Marzon said.
“Keep a close watch on them. Right now, I’m more concerned with survivors.” Cuddy turned away, joining the others at the Espy, where Kyle was at the controls, zooming in on various location sites in and around the village.
Jackie said, “It’s horrible. We brought this misery upon them. We facilitated their massacre.”
Kyle responded, “Well…it could be worse. Not that things aren’t bad, but I’m seeing survivors. A lot of them.”
“Can you tell who is who? Like…could you tell if Dramin is still…”
“I have been following the Jahin leader with my own sensors, Captain Perkins,” Spilor interjected. “He is alive. Thirty-five Jahin were killed in the attack. One hundred and ninety-seven are still alive.”
Cuddy continued to watch the 3D Espy that was morphing and changing shape as Kyle changed location points. He was shocked seeing one of the heritage pods billowing smoke—flames had completely engulfed the backend and curled fronds. Cuddy felt sick to his stomach. Then, looking to the other pod, the ancient one, it was seemingly unharmed. At least there was that. Kyle finally settled on a close-up view of eight to ten Jahin, standing together along the outer rim of the village. He recognized the way one figure moved, the gait of his walk. It was Dramin.
“We need to tell him we’re sorry. Offer him our assistance,” Jackie said.
“He doesn’t want that. He wants us, all of us, just to leave here,” Haffan said.
Jackie wiped her moist eyes. “So…we just leave? That seems so heartless.”
Cuddy shook his head. “Not just leave. We first need to ensure they have nothing more to worry about of what still remains of that Howsh fleet. We finish the battle.”
All eyes leveled on Cuddy. He knew what they were thinking. That he had never spoken such things before, of advocating violence.
“So the man-boy from Woodbury, Tennessee has finally grown a pair. Finally,” Brian said mockingly.
Cuddy didn’t respond.
Brian continued, “Which one of you did that to the cliff side? Offered me up those colossal rocks?” Staring at Haffan first, then at Cuddy, he asked, “You did that?” After waiting several beats and not getting an answer, he whistled, “I don’t think I could do that. Impressive. Remind me to stay on your good side, Cuddy.”
Cuddy was not proud of his actions, in fact, he felt sickened by them. He’d facilitated in the destruction of close to twenty spacecraft. The death toll could easily be several hundred.
Tony clucked his tongue. “Um…I think we’re all out of big rocks now to toss around. Any thoughts on how we’re going to go up against those remaining Marauders?”
* * *
Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh stared at the display in rapt horror, watching his second wave of Howsh Marauders come to the same grisly fate as the first. How had those highly advanced vessels succumbed—not by another, equally technologically advanced enemy, but by nothing more than a few humans hurling massive stones through the air? His vessels were indeed immune to the direct influences of telekinetic powers, but not, obviously, from the indirect effects caused using such powers.
Norsh, feeling beaten and out of options, contemplated his next course of action, when Mongere Sub Fhat cleared his phlegmy throat. “If I may be so bold, Sire…I may have a solution.”
“Spit it out, Fhat…now is not the time for formalities.”
“Stealth is far more difficult for our assets when entering the world’s atmosphere…the disruption of surrounding air currents, and all the countless other minute influences that the Farlight can pick up on.”
“You are not telling me anything I do not already know, First.”
“We must wait for them to come to us, here in upper orbit,” Fhat said. “The void of space will keep what remains of our fleet invisible to their sensors. One rogue vessel will be no match for the destructive power of fifteen Marauders.”
“I see your logic. But the Farlight will be just as invisible to us as we are to them. And what’s to keep the Farlight from simply moving on…disappearing into the cosmos? No, what we need is our unknown Howsh patriot to assist us one more time. For her to subversively broadcast the ship’s coordinates to us, once the Farlight leaves Camilli-Rhine 5’s atmosphere.”
Norsh thought of his sibling. Perhaps I will avenge your death after all, young brother. “Tell me, Mongere Sub Fhat, can you find a way to contact her? You do that and I assure you we will bring victory to this nearly decimated fleet of ours; bring honor to the Howsh. A rise in rank will be in order, perhaps your own command. Name it, anything, and it will be yours.”
Fhat seemed to ignore Norsh’s attempt at blatant bribery. “Contacting her is not the issue, which can be accomplished easily enough. The issue comes from the resulting broadcast, which will focus attention back on her; her treachery to her shipmates. It would, most likely, result in her immediate execution. She would know that too, most certainly.”
Norsh considered his words. Execution would be far too lenient a punishment for anyone in his crew even contemplating such treachery. No, he would need to trigger her emotionally; inspire her allegiance to a higher calling—her Howsh lineage.
The officer on Tactical sat up straighter and said, “Sire, there is a disturbance, undoubtedly caused by a propulsion wake. The Farlight, most definitely, is on the move.”
A smile crossed the Howsh leader’s lips. He knew just what to say to Fhat’s patriot. Quickly striding toward the coms station, he would reach out to her himself. It’s not clear who the female is that they’re talking about.
Chapter 53
“We’re being hailed by the Raging Storm, Captain Perkins. It’s Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh…himself,” coms officer Ganther said, sounding somewhat awe-struck.
Clenching his fists, Cuddy thought about the recent attack—so many dead Jahin. Thirty-five gentle souls mercilessly picked-off at the hands of the same lunatic commander; also the destroyed village, and the destroyed heritage pod. Cuddy had little experience feeling hatred, but he hated the vile sadist responsible for such cowardly acts.
“Go ahead, put him up on the primary display,” Cuddy said, turning away from the Espy and moving back to the red railing at the center of the bridge.
Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh’s video feed snapped into view. Strangely, it showed a wide-angled shot of the Howsh ship bridge, of the bridge crew all lowered to one knee, their heads lowered too. Norsh was at the red railing and, like the crew, had lowered to one knee, his head bowed.
“Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh,” Cuddy said.
A moment passed before Norsh slowly looked up. His face spoke volumes: Distraught—crestfallen—ashamed. “We…I…am at your mercy. All I ask is that you spare my crew…a crew only following orders of their superior.”
“What is this all about?”
“Our surrender, of course. Within moments you decimated two-thirds of my fleet. Obviously, we are outmatched.”
Cuddy, on scanning the feed, noticed the precise location of the enemy’s fleet was not showing up on the tactical readout—instead giving only a broad bandwidth of probable coordinates. Still relatively close, they could pretty much be anywhere out there.
Surrender? How was he supposed to deal with something that huge? Cuddy’s mind raced. What would he do with them, anyway? It wasn’t like they could squeeze so many prisoners into the Farlight, or even escort the fleet somewhere else. The pacifists dwelling on Primara certainly would have no interest in such a prospect. He briefly contemplated escorting them back to Earth but never Earth’s battle, he knew that was a stupid idea.
The Simpleton QUEST Page 23