The Ninth: Invasion

by Benjamin Schramm

  “I forgot that thing was still going,” Doug said as he stretched. “What are we going to do about it?” He wiped away some sweat on his brow.

  “I already sent a message to the academy,” Ronald said. “They should know about our difficulties. If they can do anything about it remains to be seen.” He walked off to return the tools they had barrowed.

  “So, what do we do now?” Hiroko asked.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Cain said, rubbing his joints.

  “Without an examination room handy we can’t have a decent training session, even if we wanted to,” Tyra said as she rubbed her neck. “I suppose you’re all free for the night. Try not to cause too much trouble,” she added quickly before she started after Ronald.

  “Works for me!” Cain bolted off. “Last one to the pub pays for the first round!”

  Humphrey shrugged and followed at his own pace. Doug ran off after Cain, trying to keep up.

  “Forget that, I’m headed to the barracks.” Mr. Springate headed off toward the men’s barracks. “I’d rather listen to another history lecture than carry Doug back here. Good thing I checked out a few dozen books; not a whole lot else to do around here.”

  “Wait up, what books did snag from the repository?” Erin rushed after Frank. “I didn’t think about downloading any and my pad won’t link to the academy from here, for some reason.”

  “Reading or dragging a drunken trooper back here,” Kindra said as she moved her hands up and down, as if weighing the options. “Wow, now that’s a tough choice.” Kindra chuckled as she casually followed after Cain and Doug.

  Sanderson sighed and followed after Kindra. Angela started to open the door to the girls’ barracks.

  “Any plans for the night?” Liz asked shyly as she joined Angela.

  The Weaver eyed her for a moment, as if making sure Liz had intended to ask her.

  “I’m going to finish unpacking and call it an early night,” Angela said hesitantly. “Didn’t do a lot of physical work on the academy. Today really took it out of me.”

  “Mind if I keep you company?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Angela said, with only a tiny trace of annoyance.

  Brent spotted Dante talking to Mahoney, the heavy weapons expert from Tyra’s old division. It was slightly interesting to listen to as Dante had to single handedly guide the conversation. Mahoney never spoke more than a single word at a time, but he was unbelievably strong. He and Cassandra had almost single handedly lifted the fallen wall back into place. He didn’t seem quite as strong as Cassandra, but he wasn’t a heavy-worlder either.

  Dante and Mahoney were talking about munitions in complicated technical terms he couldn’t even pretend to understand. The last few stragglers headed off in whatever direction sounded most interesting to them. Brent was just content knowing Cain had enough playmates that he wouldn’t notice his absence. The pub was interesting but not exactly his cup of tea. Cain’s card games were almost as strategic as the war room had been, but to him the victories were nowhere near as satisfying. As he stood wondering what to do, a pair of hands grabbed his collar and quickly pulled him behind a nearby barracks.

  “What is it with the top of my shirt?” Brent rubbed his neck. “I wonder if it would be more comfortable if I just went ahead and added a leash.”

  “Sorry, but I needed to talk to you.”

  “Marie?” he asked in surprise. He had assumed Cassandra was the one pulling him again.

  “Have you said anything to Liz?”

  “Nothing in particular, why?”

  “She’s not acting like herself; it’s got me worried.”

  “How is she acting differently?” he asked, even as the image of the shy girl skipping flashed through his mind.

  “Well, she’s not clinging to me as much as she used to.”

  “Maybe she’s just getting used to everyone.”

  “I don’t know. She still hides behind me occasionally. Maybe I’m just blowing things out of proportion. And if it was just that, I probably wouldn’t worry.”

  “There’s more?”

  “Well, you see, she’s acting differently toward you.”

  “Me?”

  “You know, she had a bit of a crush on you at first. All I had to do was mention your name and she’d blush and smile contentedly. But lately, she’s acting more like your sister than an admirer.”

  “My sister?”

  “When we found out you and Cassandra had a relationship, I thought it would crush Liz. Instead, she was the first to congratulate her! She was so excited, it wasn’t like her at all.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “What?”

  “Well, I certainly have no idea why she’s acting differently.”

  “But you’re a Weaver!” Marie protested.

  “So they keep telling me. Why not just ask her yourself? She might not cling to you as much as before, but anyone can tell she still favors you to everyone else. Why not just ask her directly?”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Why not? I’m sure she’d tell you if something was wrong.”

  “What if she resents me asking in the first place?”

  “I doubt she’d take it like that. Just tell her you are worried about her. Who knows, she might even want to talk about it and is waiting for you to ask first. Cassandra was like that; she was practically dying to explain her condition to someone. Had a whole prepared speech and everything.”

  “It’s hard to imagine Cassandra worrying about anything like that.” Marie giggled. “She’s always so calm and composed. I guess you could be right though. I guess I will just have to go ask Liz. But I want you to know that if this goes badly I’m going to blame you personally.” Marie stuck out her tongue as she ran toward the girls’ barracks.

  As Marie ran off, he let out a sigh. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was a trooper or the squad’s guidance counselor. He had originally picked the squad for their capabilities; it had never crossed his mind to consider their personalities. Brent snuck back to his bunk before anyone else could pull him aside. When he got there he found a large group of Protectorates waiting outside the barracks. Philip was standing in the center of the group and waved to him eagerly.

  “Need something, Philip?” Brent asked.

  The other guards in blue exchanged shocked glances.

  “See! I told you he was friendly. Brent, could you help us out for a bit?” Philip asked nervously.

  “I might have to check my appointments.” He smiled. “I might just be too busy doing nothing all night to help you out. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I was telling everyone about how you helped me out, showed me the proper way of doing things. They were wondering if you could show them, too.”

  “Fair enough, but not here. Let’s get a little distance from the barracks, where we have plenty of room to move around in.”

  Philip led the group out to a wide-open space in the compound.

  “Okay, this spot looks good,” Brent said with a nod. “So, what did they want me to show them?”

  “Just the basics really, how to hold our rifles and things like that. So we can look professional like your squad does.”

  “Okay, everyone, get into rows.”

  The Protectorates moved into a loose formation. There was no doubt they were amateurs, but after a few practice orders, it was obvious they suffered from a lack of training, not skill. There was definitely potential in the squad, they just didn’t know what to do. Brent worked with the group for quite a while, showing them how to position themselves to make a neat formation. It took several tries, but he managed to get them to hold their rifles properly, too. Not everyone was as quick a learner as Philip, but they were anything but slow. After that, he instructed them how to take better care of their uniforms. He figured they’d never be as proper as Sanderson, but they were eager to learn anything. Philip brought the group dinner, which was another serving of the me
at goop filled rolls. Brent wondered if that was the only type of food available on the plant. By the time the sun had set completely, he had taught them enough to give the appearance of a well-trained group.

  “Thank you for helping us,” Philip said as he gestured to the other Protectorates.

  The Protectorates formed two neat rows, just as Brent had showed them, and together bowed to him like the tripods did. He had to blink as the sudden action caught him completely off guard. Together, the entire group of Protectorates marched off toward the barracks in near-perfect formation. Brent made his way to his bunk, scratching his head. He wondered if it had been such a good idea to show Philip the bow. The motion had an odd way of spreading. When he got back to his bunk, the other troopers were already back from the town. Doug was passed out in his bunk.

  “You missed a killer game,” Cain said while tapping on his pad.

  “Apparently Cain wasn’t the only one playing nice the other night.” Sanderson gingerly laid back on the creaking bunk. “Tonight they showed their true colors.”

  “They are almost as good as I am. Almost,” Cain said with a grin.

  “How much did you make tonight?” Brent asked.

  “Enough. They probably think I was just lucky.”

  With the wall back in place, the barracks were a little stuffy, but no one complained. No one tempted fate, knowing what the little heating unit was capable of. When Brent settled down for the night, he suddenly became aware of just how sore he was. Fixing the barracks hadn’t been that strenuous, and training the Protectorate had been easy. Given how people seemed a bit shorter on average, he found himself wondering if perhaps the gravity was just a bit heavier than normal. It took him a while, but he managed to drift off to sleep.

  In the morning another ray of light awakened him. The wall was back in place, but a poorly placed window let the light blind him anyway. The showers were just as temperamental has they had been the day before. The image on the monitor had been larger than before but still too small to see clearly. It was about as large as a clenched fist. Tyra led the squad in an informal training session. Without the assistance of an exam room, all they could do was practice formations and work on their reaction time. It did help pass the time, though. When Tyra called it a day, Cain rushed off to raid the local bars.

  Brent had to chuckle as Cain showed more effort in his mad dash than in any of the day’s training. Some of the troopers went with him, while others searched for other sources of amusement. Before the squad had dispersed far, he spotted Philip approaching. When the two reached the same training spot from the day before, Brent couldn’t help but notice the waiting group of Protectorates had increased in size. Thankfully, the training made quick work of the remaining day, and the new guards in blue desperately needed the help.

  Before Brent even knew it, he had forged a routine on Deriso. Battling the sun and the shower in the morning. Laughing as the image on the monitor grew ever so slightly or distorted wildly each day. Training with Tyra until they ran out of things to do. The only real change in his routine was the size of the waiting Protectorates. Every night, Brent found an ever-larger group of Protectorates eagerly awaiting his instruction. It wasn’t exactly a riveting way to spend a day, but it was better than doing nothing at all.

  After another long day, Brent settled down for the night. He couldn’t believe that more than a week had already passed. It was amusing to think that after so long a time they still hadn’t gotten the monitor in the courtyard working right. The group he had instructed had been the largest yet, easily the size of a division. His last thought as he drifted to sleep was how much larger could the group possibly grow. His reverie didn’t last long. It felt as if he had just gotten to sleep when two hands roughly shook him.

  “Brent, get up, we’ve got trouble!” Cain shouted at him.

  “What’s wrong? You lose your game of cards?” he asked drowsily.

  “We’re at war!”

  Cain pulled Brent out of bed before the words had sunk in.

  “What you do mean, at war?” he asked as the drowsiness faded. “Over a card game?”

  “Forget the card games! The ITU has declared war on the Commonwealth. We have got to get out of here. There is a CI ship at the landing pad.”

  “A CI ship?”

  “Focus, Brent!” Cain said forcefully. “There is a trade ship from Core Industries waiting for us. My father had it hiding nearby in case something like this happened.”

  “Have you awoken the others yet?”

  “I was just about to, but you have to get out of here now.”

  With a single shove, he pushed Brent out of the barracks. The calm of the night was eerie. Cain had said they were at war, but the city was still fast asleep, the citizens content and warm in their dreams. If the Commonwealth was indeed at war, Brent knew what he had to do. As he dashed off, he was relieved to see the girls already leaving their barracks for the landing pad. The command building at the center of the Protectorate compound was just as run down and dilapidated as the rest of the city. Brent opened the door with more strength than was necessary, knocking it off its hinges.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” a wrinkled Protectorate asked, half asleep.

  “Get me a communications link to the other cities, now!” he shouted at the lethargic guard in blue.

  “Who do you think you are? You can’t just barge in here in the middle of the night and start giving out orders.”

  “We don’t have time for this. Every moment you delay is going to cost lives.”

  “I don’t care if the sky itself is falling. If you don’t have authorization from the Governor, there is nothing I can do for you.”

  A doorway on the opposite side of the room gently swung open. A young Protectorate was swiping at his eyes.

  “What’s all the racket out here?” the young guard in blue asked with a yawn. “Don’t you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Philip! I’ve got to get word out to the other cities, and I’ve got to do it now!”

  “Brent? Word out about what . . . Never mind, I can tell it’s important. Jackson, get him a link.”

  “But I need . . .”

  “He’s a trooper of the military. Do you really want to argue with him?”

  The lethargic guard finally jumped to action, fiddling with toggles and switches.

  “Thanks, Philip,” Brent said as he waited. “I’ve got a mission for you.”

  “A mission? A real live mission?”

  “An important one, too. Get everyone up. Have the Protectorate evacuate the city. There is a trade ship at the landing pads; get the citizens onboard as soon as possible.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “The how doesn’t matter. If they don’t get on that ship before it takes off, they are dead. Do whatever it takes.”

  Philip turned white. After the shock faded, he ran off, almost tripping over himself. As the lethargic guard handed him a primitive looking microphone, he could hear an alarm sounding in the background.

  “Attention, all Protectorate forces,” Brent started. “This is an official alert from the Commonwealth military. Evacuate your cities. I repeat, evacuate your cities. Abandon the cities and hide out in the mountains and countryside. Any place with thick enough cover to blot out the sky.”

  “This is Protectorate sub-commander Tsuchiya.” A speaker hissed and groaned to life. “What’s the meaning of this order?”

  “The Independent Traders Union has formally declared war on the Commonwealth. We have reason to believe they are headed here as we speak,” Brent said into the microphone.

  “You can’t be serious. Why would the ITU declare war?”

  “Does it matter at this point? The ITU is on the war path and we are in the way.”

  “Regardless, it is our duty as Protectorates to safeguard this world. We will not abandon our homes because a bunch of traders want to play war.”

  “No offense, sub-commander, but I�
�ve worked with your Protectorate forces, and they don’t stand a chance against an organized enemy. If you stand your ground, the ITU will destroy you and the citizens under your guard.”

  “Are you saying we are outclassed by businessmen?”

  “No, I’m saying you are outclassed by the soldiers those businessmen can afford to pay. Tell me, sub-commander, what is the condition of your orbital defense array? Do you even have one?”

  “. . .” The speaker went silent.

  “Sub-commander?”

  “Point taken. We couldn’t shoot down a fly, let alone a warhead. But what good will evacuating into the forests and mountains do?”

  “We are in the process of evacuating the capital city. We are taking the populous off world. If the ITU invades, they will find the city completely empty. With some luck they’ll think it’s the same story for all the other cities. If they believe the entire planet had been abandoned, they’ll most likely loot what they can and move on.”

  “I see. We’ll begin evacuating immediately.”

  “After you get the word out, maintain silence. We don’t want the ITU picking up a stray transmission.”

  “Understood. Good luck, sir. Take down a few of those Union dogs for me.”

  “I’ll do my best. Good luck to all of us.”

  The lethargic guard was white as a sheet. The speakers hissed and hummed as the Protectorate forces all over the planet started relaying the order to evacuate.

  “Tell me, do you have a family?” Brent asked the pale guard.

  The guard nodded glumly.

  “Then what are you doing here? Get them to the landing pad!”

  “But my post . . . I have to man the communication network.”

  Brent took the guard’s firearm and fired two shots at the console. In a large burst of sparks and smoke the station went dead. The speakers faded to silence.

  “It looks like this station is temporally out of service,” Brent said with a wink. “Go take care of your family.”

  The pale guard nodded and rushed off toward the city. The compound was completely empty as Brent ran across the empty courtyard toward the Governor’s mansion. Every Protectorate and trooper was no doubt busy coordinating loading of the transport. It was pandemonium inside. Loud blaring alarms were echoing off the tall ceilings. Making his way deeper into the structure, Brent found it completely empty. Broken plates and dropped finery covered the dining room. The servants had apparently left in a hurry. Every room was similar, with half completed tasks littering the floors. Finally, he made his way to the throne room. Jumping over the fountains, he entered through the massive door at the rear of the room.