by John Bowers
"Well, goddess Sophia, Viktor! They're all we could find! We had to take the fucking river to get here and all the refugees were on the highway."
"Find somebody who knows, Erika! We need some facts here!"
Erika slammed her fist into the side of the hovercar.
"All right, Viktor. Tomorrow I'm going to Soderstad! I'll find you some Sophia-scorn Sirians!"
She broke the connection. With an angry sigh, she turned to Oliver.
"Let's find you a rifle," she said.
* * *
They spent the night in a hotel that was so empty they were given a suite at a reduced rate. Although he was tired, Oliver was ready to accommodate Jacquje again. As they selected their bedrooms, he slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her hair.
"Want to stay in my room tonight?" he suggested with a grin. "I'm afraid of the dark."
She turned her soft smile on him, but he saw something distant in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Oliver. I had my Moment of Awakening, and I thank you for that. But Sophia is still my goddess. I have no excuse if I do it again." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You understand, don't you?"
He nodded slowly, unable to hide his disappointment.
"Sure. I understand."
"You're sweet, Oliver. Good night."
She disappeared into the room she would share with Erika. Oliver stood there with a bemused expression on his face.
"Sweet," he said. "Never been accused of that before."
Chapter 15
Monday, 13 July, 0195 (PCC) — Sophia Alps, Vega 3
"How far south are you planning to go?" Oliver sat in the front passenger seat, a 9.1mm hunting rifle beside him. They had purchased it the night before at a sporting goods store, along with a hundred rounds. Erika was at the yoke of the convertible, streaking down a mountain road six feet above the surface, well below the tops of the pine forest that swept by on either side. Jacquje sat in the back with her equipment, silent as usual.
"Viktor wants facts," Erika said. "I'll get him some facts!"
Oliver gripped the handhold beside him, glad he was securely harnessed. If she lost control this close to the ground, the results would be spectacular. And deadly.
The morning sky was clear and gorgeous, the air crisp and cold. It reminded Oliver of home, especially the smell of pines that scented the air. They'd been on the road for ten minutes and hadn't seen another soul, as if the planet were deserted south of Sophiastad.
"You aren't really going all the way to Soderstad, are you?" he asked. "How far is that?"
"Almost a thousand miles. If we find out the Sirians have landed, I won't go that far. But I'm going to find someone who really knows what's happening."
He adjusted his watch, which was set to Vegan local time, but had to be updated daily because it was tuned to Terra's rotation, which didn't match that of Vega 3. He looked up just as Erika navigated a sharp curve.
"Look out!" he shouted.
Directly in front of them, an armored track vehicle was sitting across the road, surrounded by at least twenty men in fatigue uniforms. Jacquje screamed, Erika jerked the yoke backward, and the convertible leaped forty feet into the air as the men around the track scattered. Oliver almost lost his breakfast as she leveled out and hit braking thrust. He hung on for dear life as she fought the controls. She glanced in her mirror and alarm filled her eyes.
"Oh, shit!"
Oliver looked back and saw a military gunsled racing after them. On board were two helmeted Guardsmen, one of them clutching a laser on a tripod.
"You better stop!" Oliver said. "They look upset."
Erika swooped toward the roadway below, firing braking thrusters. Just as she settled to the pavement the sled shot overhead, banked, and turned back. It landed thirty feet in front of them; the man on the tripod covered them while the pilot stepped down and stomped forward.
"Out of the car!" he ordered, brandishing a laser pistol. "You! Drop the rifle! Hands behind your head. One false move and you're all dead!"
Oliver and the girls stepped out of the car, keeping their hands in plain sight.
"All right, face down on the road. Everyone!"
Oliver wasted no time doing as he was told, and Jacquje did the same. Erika faced the Guardsman defiantly.
"Can't you see we're Vegan citizens!" she said angrily. "Goddess Sophia, do you have to pass a stupidity requirement to be in the Guard?"
The soldier gripped her arm roughly and forced her to the ground. She cried out and jerked her arm free.
"Asshole!" she shouted. "I'd expect that from Sirians, but not from you!" She dropped to the ground on her stomach.
"ID!" the soldier demanded. "You first." He pointed to Oliver.
"Rear pocket," Oliver said. "Starpass."
The soldier took it and examined it for a moment.
"A Fed man, huh? What's the rifle for?"
"Going hunting," Oliver said.
"Hunting season is over."
"Hunting season started day before yesterday," Oliver told him. "When the Sirians attacked."
The Guardsman snorted contemptuously. "What about you?" he asked Erika. "ID."
"Look at my face."
"What?"
She tilted her face up to look at him. "Don't you watch the news? I'm Erika Sebring."
He stared at her a moment, his eyes widening slowly, then dropped to one knee for a closer look. He stood up slowly.
"Goddess Sophia," he said quietly. "So you are. What the hell?" He held up a hand toward the sled, and the other Guardsman let his laser swing skyward.
"Can we get up now? We're not criminals!"
He nodded, and they all got to their feet.
"You were going like a winged mammalian out of hell," he said. "Do you know how close you came to killing all of us?"
"Yes, and I'm sorry. I'll be more careful in the future."
"Where in hell do you think you were going? Don't you know you're heading into a war zone?"
"Believe me, Corporal, the whole planet is a war zone. Reina's been bombed, so has Sophiastad. One place is about as safe as another."
"I'm afraid not. The Confederacy is landing troops on the Southern Plain, and they're moving this way."
Erika's anger dissolved at this news. "Have you seen them?"
"No, but we've talked to a lot of refugees —"
"Shit! So have I. Nobody's really seen the Sirians, but everyone knows what they're doing. That won't cut it, Corporal. I have orders to find out what is really going on."
The Guardsman shook his head. "My orders are to keep any civilians from moving south. And my orders supersede yours."
"Now wait a minute —"
"No argument, Miss Sebring. That is final."
Erika's silver eyes flashed. "Who issued those orders?" she demanded.
"General Anfensen, my division commander."
"Well, my orders come from Queen Ursula," Oliver heard her say. "She wants hard evidence of where the Sirians are, and she commissioned Royal Holo News to find out."
The Guardsman stared at her for ten seconds. Oliver waited with bated breath, wondering if she could pull it off.
"You expect me to believe that?" the Guardsman asked.
"I don't care what you believe," she replied. "But unless you want to stand in front of Her Majesty and explain why you thwarted her royal command, you'd best just let us go on our way."
"You have a written order to prove what you're claiming?"
"We did, but it was lost when our hovervan was strafed by fighters. We had to get a new vehicle and equipment in Sophiastad."
The corporal stood silent, clearly undecided. He looked at Oliver.
"God's truth," Oliver said, raising his hand as if taking an oath. Behind him, Jacquje nodded.
"I have to take this to my commanding officer."
"Oh, you go ahead," Erika said caustically. "And he'll go to General Anfensen, and they'll debate it, and finally somebody will try to contact
Vegan Guard Headquarters to get it checked, but they won't be able to because it isn't there any more since the Sirians bombed it. So there will be more debate, and we'll stand around for several hours or several days while someone tries to get up the nerve to contact Sophia's Island and ask the Queen herself. In the meantime, the Sirians may be loading thousands of women into slave ships south of here, and the Queen won't be able to issue the edicts she needs to get the Guard moving to stop them." She cocked her pretty head sarcastically. "Do you want to take that responsibility?"
"Sergeant," Oliver said, deliberately promoting the two-striper, "let us do our job, okay? Just tell your CO we showed you a written order. I'm sure he has enough to worry about without screwing around with us."
"What's your involvement in all this?" the soldier asked. "You're a neutral."
"He's an expert on military hardware," Erika said. "He is going to help us evaluate whatever we find."
Oliver nodded confirmation, fighting the urge to laugh at the newsgirl's audacity.
With a deep sigh, the Guardsman handed Oliver his starpass.
"You know how to use that rifle?" he asked.
"Yes, I do."
"I hope so." To Erika, he actually touched the brim of his helmet. "Be careful, Miss Sebring. Sophia's tears."
He turned and strode back to his gunsled.
* * *
"Jesus Christ!" Oliver said when they were a mile down the road. "What balls you have! That Guardsman didn't know whether to shit or go blind!"
They all shared a good laugh at the Guardsman's expense.
"You're a pretty good liar yourself," Erika told him. "You backed me up perfectly."
"I had to. I figured we'd all be locked up if he didn't buy your story."
They cruised leisurely along, still below the treetops, but at a slower speed than before.
"What was that he said when he let us go?" Oliver asked. "Something about 'Sophia's tears'."
"It's a blessing," Jacquje told him. "It means, 'May Sophia's tears guide your path'. On Terra you would say 'God go with you', or 'vaya con dios'."
Oliver nodded. Privately, he hoped Sophia was listening.
Chapter 16
The Southern Plain, Vega 3
Two hundred miles south of Sophiastad, the hovercar rounded a bend in the mountain road and there, spread out before them, lay the Southern Plain. Erika braked and set the car down on the side of the road. Oliver and both girls got out to stretch their legs, staring at the panorama below them.
"God!" Oliver breathed, "it's beautiful! I've never seen anything like it!"
It stretched off to the horizon on three sides, a vast patchwork of farmland — greens and yellows and reds and browns, each color representing a field or a crop. Here and there, sunlight reflected back from a small town or village, and far in the distance they could see a tiny ribbon running east and west.
"Highway 11," Erika explained when he asked. "It runs from coast to coast, almost four thousand miles."
"Does the Plain extend that far?"
"Yes. Flat just like this, except for the east coast. Some mountains there, just inland from the ocean. This is where most of our food is grown, and we export over half of it because it's much more than we need."
Oliver's eyes narrowed. "Are there many Guard bases here?"
"Only one, near Soderstad. The rest are in the north, near the bigger cities."
Oliver nodded slowly as it became painfully clear. "Now I understand."
Both girls' eyes were on him. "Understand what?"
"I've been trying to figure out why the Sirians didn't land in force up near Reina," he explained. "I mean, if they want to capture the planet, why not just attack the Guard on the ground, shoot it out, and get it over with. They're supposed to be superior in experience and equipment, so it shouldn't be that difficult."
"What are you saying?"
Oliver swept a hand toward the Plain.
"They're going to capture your bread basket. They'll starve you out. They have a blockade up in orbit, so no relief can get through. And they won't have to kill as many civilians."
"Why should they care about killing civilians?"
Oliver stared at her. "They don't mind killing the men," he said. "But they consider the women a natural resource."
Erika's eyes widened slowly. She glanced at Jacquje.
"Goddess!" she whispered.
Half an hour later they ran into a group of refugees. Erika set the car down again and Jacquje hopped down with her holocam. Roughly a hundred people were camped beside a small stream under a cluster of large trees. Oliver followed as Erika approached them.
"It's Erika Sebring!" he heard a little girl exclaim, and several adults got awkwardly to their feet. They looked harried and disheveled, as if they'd been on the road for days. Most of their vehicles looked new, but one had several bullet holes in it. Oliver saw blood on the front passenger seat.
Erika began asking questions, listening sympathetically as they told their stories. Several women broke into tears as they recounted what they had experienced. Most were from small towns and were fleeing the Confederate advance. But the stories were very similar to those they'd already heard.
"Have you seen any Sirians?" Erika asked one man. "I mean, with your own eyes?"
"Hell yes!" he retorted almost angrily. "We barely got out of Soderstad ahead of them." He pointed to the bullet holes in the car. "My brother was in the front seat when one of their gunsleds strafed us."
"How many were there?"
"I saw about a dozen hover tanks, two or three sleds, and maybe a hundred soldiers on foot. They were moving south. Soderstad is cut off. The Guard units there are completely surrounded."
"How far away are the Sirians from here?"
"Don't know for sure. I hear they landed in Princess Carlena County and were spreading out in all directions."
Erika asked about atrocities against civilians, but once again received the standard reply — everyone had heard the stories, but aside from the man whose brother had been killed, no one had actually seen any Sirians.
Jacquje transmitted the story, received confirmation, and they set off again.
"How much farther are you gonna go?" Oliver asked.
"Soderstad," Erika replied.
"How far is that?"
"Maybe six hundred miles. Three hours at top speed."
The road was long and straight, the fields flashing by on either side. The air was warmer, the organic smell of agriculture heavy and refreshing. Oliver clutched the rifle and began to wonder if he'd completely lost his mind.
"Does this thing have radar?" he asked.
"Yes, why?"
"Maybe you'd better turn it on."
"Won't that give us away?" Erika wondered. "The Sirians can pick up our emissions."
"Set it on passive mode. We'll pick up their emissions, but we won't put out any. I think we must be getting close to that highway up ahead."
Erika turned it on. A small display glowed green and a sweep hand began to rotate. No emissions were visible.
Ten minutes later they spotted Highway 11 two miles ahead.
"Slow down," Oliver suggested. "Let's turn off this road. Head across the fields. Make sure that highway is clear before we try to cross."
Erika made a left turn and skimmed the tops of a wheat field as she ran parallel to Highway 11. Oliver lifted his hunting rifle and used the scope to scan the highway. He saw no traffic, but his stomach was twisted into a knot. He was willing to take a little time and be absolutely sure.
"Goddess!" Erika cried. A shrill series of beeps suddenly emanated from the radar screen, and four bright dots appeared, moving rapidly toward them. Oliver twisted around and looked behind them.
"Christ!" he shouted. "Put it down! Quick!"
Erika almost crashed the car, plowing down the wheat in a desperate emergency stop. Almost before the car stopped moving, Oliver leaped out and grabbed Jacquje by the arm.
"Run!" he
shouted, and dragged Jacquje after him. Erika ran the other way.
The fighters were only five hundred feet up, moving at Mach 1 or better, holding a perfect diamond formation. Oliver and Jacquje had only made twenty yards from the car when the ground exploded under them. Jacquje screamed in terror as the blast flung them face down into the wheat. A thunderous boom deafened them, and as he went sprawling, Oliver thought he'd breathed his last. A choking dust swirled around them, and Jacquje continued to scream hysterically.
Oliver blinked, took a breath, and pushed himself to his knees.
The wheat field was quiet again as the dust settled, but in the distance he saw the four fighters bank left; the distant roar of their jets faded only slowly. In that instant he saw streaks of white smoke stab forward from the four fighters, followed by roils of flame and smoke along the highway. Long seconds later the popcorn sound of explosions reached him, and the ground trembled again. The fighters turned back toward the mountains and were soon lost to sight.
"Space Guard!" he whispered. "Good god, they're ours! I mean, yours!"
Jacquje had stopped screaming, but now she stumbled to her feet and clung to him, sobbing. He turned to her and held her against him for a moment.
"It's okay," he said. "They were Vegan. It was just their sonic wash that hit us."
He helped her back to the car. Erika had also returned and stood trembling, hands over her mouth. Oliver used the riflescope again to peer at the spot the fighters had attacked. Huge red flames rolled skyward and black smoke rose in a thick column. Sitting amidst the flames were perhaps twenty vehicles, mostly destroyed, and Oliver could see men scurrying about like ants. They wore grey uniforms and helmets.
Sirians.
"We were heading right toward them," Oliver told the women. "They must have been sitting beside the highway."
Erika's silver eyes glittered with fear. "I think we've gone far enough south," she said. "We found the Sirians."
Oliver stared toward the Sirian column. It was less than a mile away; he could walk it in a few minutes. With his neutral citizenship, he might be off the planet in a couple of days. Or …
Those particular Sirians wouldn't be in a very good mood right now. They might just as easily shoot him before taking a look at his starpass.
He turned to Erika.