On the positive, the shot seemed to be a warning one. On the negative, it still hit. Not one of the balloons or sails, but one of the crew. A very vital one of the crew.
* * *
“Captain down!” I bellowed as loudly as I could, as Captain Tucker collapsed into Manning’s arms. “Doctor to the bridge! Sir Reginald, you’re closest—man the rudder! All hands, sails in, wings out, balloons held—we’re going to all stop!”
Sir Reginald did as requested—he was, thankfully, easily as strong as Manning, and an all stop required strength, particularly on the rudder. The rest of the crew obeyed as well, and, while Vrabel—who had impressive lungs which she was quite expert at using—shouted along my request for our good doctor and all the rest of my orders, the rest of us brought the Golden Voyager to a hover.
Our ship’s doctor was excellent, probably the best doctor in the air, but one look told me that Dr. Parker would be too late.
Still, she came running, medical bag in hand. “What did those devils hit him with?” she asked as Manning laid the captain down on the deck.
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
Captain Tucker’s eyes were glassy as Dr. Parker ripped his shirt open. We all gasped. The captain’s chest had a perfect hole through it, easily an inch in diameter. There wasn’t as much blood as I’d have expected—the wound looked cauterized. Vicious and mortal, but not nearly as messy as it could be.
Dr. Parker put her fingers to the Captain’s throat, then looked up at me. “He’s gone. There’s nothing I can even try, not with that hole in him.” Her voice shook. “There’s no … heart left for me to try to restart.”
“Third Officer, to the bridge!”
Vrabel raced over. “Ex-O, orders to shoot these bastards?”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Elizabeth, but that shot was far too accurate. They shot the captain to show us that they can hit anything on our ship they want to.” And kill any and all of us easily, but I didn’t add that aloud. The expressions on those I could see shared that they’d all come to the same conclusion anyway.
“That’s right,” Al said. He sounded impressed. I chose not to allow this to flatter me. “They took out the person in command.”
“You’re captain now,” Dr. Parker said, making Al’s accurate observation just a little more chilling.
“Technically, I suppose.” I wasn’t afraid of dying. But succession hadn’t been a thought in any of our heads an hour ago. Now, the man I’d sworn my allegiance to years ago when I was just a shipteen was dead in front of me, and I’d been able to do nothing to protect or save him. He’d saved me—ultimately, he’d saved every one of us on his crew at some point during the War. We’d all lost our leader and the man who was like our father. I’d never wanted to destroy anything as much as I wanted to destroy these alien things floating around us.
“No, you are,” Manning agreed, bringing me sharply back to reality. “Protocol is quite clear on this point—if the captain is incapacitated, then the Executive Officer takes command. In the case of … the death of a captain, then the Ex-O retains command.” He cleared his throat. “I believe surrender may be in order … Captain.”
“Mister Manning, don’t take this the wrong way, but if we’re all feeling that we’re going to follow protocol and I’m now the captain, my first act isn’t going to be to surrender to these alien creatures.” I turned to Vrabel before Manning could reply. “Elizabeth, you’re now Ex-O. Who do you recommend for Third Officer?”
“Carswell, Captain Thompson,” she replied without hesitation. “Edward’s the most prepared of our junior officers. Shall I call him to the bridge?”
“Call all the crew to the bridge, please, Elizabeth. As your last act as Third Officer.”
While Vrabel bellowed for all hands, I checked on Sir Reginald. He was doing a fine job keeping us in hover, which isn’t as simple as it sounds. “Do you need relief?” I asked him.
“No, Captain, not at all. Use me in any way you need. And, may I express my condolences on your loss?”
“Thank you.” I stepped closer to him. “Are you sure you don’t want to go below decks at this time?” I asked in a low voice.
“No,” he replied in kind. “Despite how I may appear to you, I’m from a line of warriors. Al and I are with you, all the way.”
Manning cleared his throat. “Captain, the crew are assembled.”
I turned back to see Manning giving Sir Reginald a stony look. However, I had a crew to calm. Manning’s personality issue with Sir Reginald would have to wait for later.
I addressed the crew. “We’ve been attacked by what, as of right now, we must assume are alien invaders of some kind. They’ve drawn first blood, and, unfortunately, Captain Tucker was in their line of fire. I’m sorry to say that we’ve lost him.”
Most of our crew were young. Dr. Parker was the eldest among us, and she was the ripe old age of thirty-two. However, the war within the Greater Americas had only ended two years ago, and even our youngest shipteen had served for the United Territories in some way. So this wasn’t the first time any of us had experienced violent death. But it didn’t lessen the blow. No matter how many times, death was always the unwelcome visitor.
However, not as unwelcome as those whose strange ships now surrounded us.
“We must assume we are, as of this moment, at war. Unless there are objections, I will be taking over as Captain. At war or not, now is the time to say if you feel someone else is better qualified to captain the Golden Voyager.”
The crew looked at each other. Missy raised her hand. “I think I speak for all of us. There’s no one we’d rather follow than you … Captain Thompson.” The rest of the crew nodded.
I allowed myself to feel the warmth of this moment. But only for a moment. “Thank you. I shall endeavor to do my best, as all good Captains should.”
“We will serve as all people good and true must do,” the crew replied in unison.
Our wartime succession ceremony now completed, I officially promoted Vrabel to Ex-O and Carswell to Third Officer. Carswell had no sooner accepted than Manning nudged me.
“We are surrounded,” he said quietly. “I would expect we’ll be boarded shortly.” He took my elbow and gently turned me around.
There was a golden, glowing light flowing from one of the alien ships. It hit our aft deck and I waited for it to burn a hole in the Golden Voyager as they’d put a hole into Captain Tucker.
But instead, three figures floated down through the light. The light disappeared and we took our first look at these creatures.
My initial impression was correct—they were bird-people. They were short and stocky with heads that looked something like a humanoid version of an eagle, with an extra large lower jaw. Unlike most birds, their eyes were more centered, though those eyes were, as many birds’ are, quite beady and very non-human. I cocked my head. From another angle, they looked like something else vaguely familiar. Something else that didn’t like us.
“Dinosaurs,” Manning said in an excited whisper.
“Ah, that’s it.” They resembled the drawings I’d seen of the mighty Tyrannosaurus-Rex, only they were to that giant lizard as Al was to Manning. Their bodies were completely hidden by flowing white robes, so I was unable to determine if their bodies were also like the T-Rex, but I did spot six large talons sticking out from under each robe. The talons were painted with designs I didn’t recognize.
Feathers stuck out of the sleeves of their robes. Whether this meant they had wings for arms, or were covered with feathers, or something else, I had no guess.
One of the three stepped forward. “I am K’tano. This is Ast’ria and this Riol.” It indicated the others who nodded curtly at the mention of their names. “We are the Z’porrah. Our planet is far away, at the galactic core. We have come to teach you the ways of peace.”
Heard someone snort behind me even as Manning drew his breath in with excitement and the crew gasped. From where the sound of the snort cam
e from, I assumed it was from Al. I shared his reaction.
“I don’t find your murdering of our captain to be a peaceful act,” I said, as I stepped forward as well. “We call that an act of war. Especially when perpetrated by an alien race as their first act upon meeting us.”
“You are a backwater planet, peopled with violent, hairless apes. You only understand strength. We are strong. And we are stronger than you.”
“Maybe so, and I’ll choose to ignore your insults and not share that you look like dinosaur birds, but your statements again don’t sound peaceful. I’d like to know how you chose us, this ship, as your first point of attack and what you plan to do to bring about peace for all.”
“You were nearest.”
“Ah. So it’s just luck.” Bad luck, to be sure, but still, random chance. What would happen next was dependent upon the luck of an alien race’s draw. I didn’t like our odds.
The Z’porrah nodded. “You will surrender, and we will usher in an age of peace. Or you will not surrender and you will all die. You have fifteen minutes of your time to choose.” It stepped back to rejoin its fellows. The light shown down from the ship, and the Z’porrah flew back up and inside.
“An age of peace,” Manning said longingly. “Wouldn’t it be lovely?”
“If it were true, yes.”
“Peace can be overrated,” Al said.
I turned to him. “You know something. More than you’ve told us. You knew what these were before they even attacked us. I’d like some answers, and some honesty.” I looked at the supposed Guinea Cats peering out of Sir Reginald’s pocket. They looked like no animals I’d ever seen—as with the Z’porrah there were similarities to Earth animals, but no exact match. And as with the Z’porrah, I now didn’t think these animals were from around here. “The real truth, Al Gar. If that’s even your real name.”
Al’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, it’s my real name. And the truth depends greatly upon whose viewpoint you choose to share. The Z’porrah firmly feel they’ll bring peace. And they will.”
To his great credit, Manning didn’t immediately demand we capitulate. “How will this peace be achieved?” he asked.
Al didn’t speak. “Tell them,” Sir Reginald said strongly. “I know you know. Tell them the truth.”
“As you wish. They will offer you things—enslavement and war or pretty words and useful things. If you pick as others have, you’ll have a couple hundred years of peace and prosperity.”
“That sounds good,” Manning said. “I presume you’re about to explain how this is far too good to be true?”
“I am. After you’ve destroyed all weapons and any plans for how to create them, and after all your warriors are dead and the desire to fight is bred out of you, then the Z’porrah will be back, in greater numbers. They’ll overtake and enslave the Earth, and turn all creatures on it into subservient beings, if you’re lucky. If not, they’ll just wipe out all animal life and seed it with their own people.”
We were all quiet for a few moments. “And if we fight?” I asked finally.
Al shrugged. “They’ll destroy your ship and you’ll all die.”
“What will happen to the future generations?” Manning asked.
“Ah, now that is the good question. If the Golden Voyager goes down fighting, the rest of the United Territories will join together and fight these invaders. They won’t win. However, the rest of the Americas will join in, and then the rest of the world. The war will go on for years. When it’s done, Earth will be a planet devoted to war and every being on it will be clear that there are stronger enemies out there who could arrive at any time, without warning, and attack a merchant ship peacefully traveling.”
Part of me wondered if Al was making this all up. But in my soul I knew that he’d looked into the possible futures somehow, and had told us what would come to be. I knew my choice.
I turned to the crew. “This is not my decision alone to make. My choice is to remain with the Golden Voyager and fight these invaders, even though it means we’ll join Captain Tucker in the afterlife much sooner. But each of you has an equal vote in this.”
The crew was quiet. Then Manning spoke. “Those who support our Captain’s decision to fight now and save the future of mankind, raise your hands.” His was the first hand in the air.
The rest of the crew raised their hands. None hesitated.
“I’m proud to lead all of you,” I said, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. “Even if it will potentially be the shortest command in history.”
Sir Reginald and Al were having a quiet but vehement discussion. Sir Reginald seemed to win. “Captain, if I may speak with you for a moment?” he asked. “In private?”
“Why not? I believe we have five or so minutes left of our allotted fifteen.”
We went to the far aft of the ship. One of the Z’porrah ships hovered close by, the others at the fore, starboard, and lee sides, with one above us and, as I craned my neck over the side to see, one below. We were utterly surrounded.
“Captain … Jeanette … there is another way.” Sir Reginald took my hand. “We’ve misled you—Al and I both are not from this planet. Or this universe.”
After discovering we were at the start of an alien invasion, this was unsurprising. “I knew they weren’t Guinea Cats.”
Sir Reginald chuckled. “No. They’re called Poofs. And they’re what I want to speak of.” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the Poofs. But instead of two, there were four, two of them smaller. “The Poofs are androgynous and mate when a royal wedding of my people is at hand.”
“Oh? Were we taking you to your bride?” Another reason to despise these Z’porrah, as if I’d needed one.
He gave me an odd look. “No. I am not betrothed. Yet. I was hoping…” He took a deep breath. “I was hoping that you would accept my suit. I can take you away from all this.”
I was dumbstruck, but managed not to let my jaw drop. “Al doesn’t approve, does he?” was all I managed to say.
“He approves of you but not of my taking you with me.”
A throat cleared behind us. “Excuse me,” Manning said stiffly. “I would like a word with Miss Thompson, too. Right now.”
I could remind him to call me Captain, but why bother at this time? “I’ll just be a moment,” I said to Sir Reginald, as Manning led me to another part of the aft deck.
“He asked you to marry him?” Manning asked, voice and manner still stiff.
“He did, in fact.”
“And your reply?”
“What business of it is yours?” I looked up at him, surprised by his presumption.
To see that he looked stricken. “Will he save you from this?”
“Yes, supposedly. How—”
“There are no such things as Guinea Cats. I’ve researched it. And there are other oddities. I believe Sir Reginald and Al Gar are aliens, just as these Z’porrah are. Though clearly more as we are and, one presumes, not our enemies.” He cleared his throat again. “Since he can save you, I will … not speak my mind.”
“No, speak it. Because I have no idea why you pulled me aside other than to warn me of something Sir Reginald had just admitted.”
“I … I wanted to …” Manning looked panicked, then resigned. Then sad. He looked down. “I wanted to tell you something, and ask you something. Neither matter any more.”
“She didn’t say yes,” Al said. “I’d suspect she won’t, either, if you’d just manage a coherent sentence.”
“I requested privacy,” Manning said, demeanor back to stiff.
“And you’ve botched having it.” Al shook his head. “Tell the girl or she’ll never know. And she deserves to know, doesn’t she? So she makes the choice of her own free will.”
“I deserve to know what?”
Manning shook his head and spun on his heel. Only Missy was there, blocking him. “Tell her,” she urged. “She’s not aware, but all the rest of us know. Please, Mister Manning. Tell her.”
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“By all that’s holy, tell me what?”
Manning turned back, pulled me to him, and kissed me. Quite passionately. It was probably un-captain-like, but I found it impossible not to respond in kind. He ended the kiss slowly. “I love you, Miss Thompson.”
“Oh. That’s why you don’t use my title.”
He smiled. “It is. I was hoping it would show you that …”
“That you have no clue about proper military order, nor any clear idea of how to woo a woman? It did.” His face fell and I felt badly. I leaned up and kissed him again. “It’s alright, Nicholas. And, I believe, for the all of one minute we’ll have left, that you can call me Jeanette.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Al said. “It’s official, at least as official as you want it to be.”
“Under the circumstances,” Manning said with a small smile, “I’ll accept it as extremely official.”
“I as well.”
Sir Reginald sighed behind me. “She would make a wonderful queen.”
I turned to him. “Could you take the crew? Wherever you were going to take me? Get them to safety, spare them all of this?”
“What of you?” Al asked.
“The captain goes down with the ship.”
Manning took my hand. “You will not go alone.”
“No,” Missy said. “None of us will leave, Captain. We’re with you ‘til the end.”
“All of you?” Al asked. “Of your own free will?”
Vrabel had joined us and she nodded. “Doctor Parker and I took a vote. The crew, to a person, is committed to following the Captain’s course.”
“You two had best leave, however you’re able,” I told our passengers. “Thank you for helping.”
Sir Reginald didn’t look happy. “That wasn’t helping,” he muttered. “Not like we could.”
“There are rules, lad,” Al said.
“Hang the rules,” Sir Reginald snapped. “If we can’t help, why bother to come? Why spend weeks with these people, get attached to them, fall in love with them, to leave them to this fate?”
“The fate is necessary,” Al said. “This Earth must be made ready.” He looked around. “It’s a lovely ship.”
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