by Barry Kirwan
Micah folded his arms. “Where’s this going, Petra, because I really don’t have much time.”
She pushed off the wall and walked right up to him. “This contest means a lot to us Genners, especially the Youngbloods. You’ve never lost a match, and none of us know how you’ve kept it up all these years, especially now we’re maturing, reaching our intellectual peak. But Gabriel has to win it fair and square. Don’t you dare lose on purpose. None of us would ever forgive you. Especially me.” She backed away. “You’d better go, Uncle.”
Micah nodded. “Don’t worry, Petra. I have zero intention of letting him win.”
She hadn’t expected Micah to cheat, though. Maybe it was for the Steaders; they needed Micah to win, to remind them they weren’t obsolete. The day Gabriel beat Micah would be the beginning of the end for ordinary folk. Added into the mix, the Steaders wanted to hang onto their kids, especially since the Alicians had already robbed them of so much. But as she gazed at her Genner colleagues, her friends, she knew it was time, time for their parents and Micah to let them go. She gazed toward the stage, to the two inert figures, settling on the younger one. Come on Gabe!
Petra was just wondering where Micah’s drones had gone, when she saw Gabriel’s fleet drop out of transit again, approaching something that looked like a mist. Uh-oh. Five Genners were on their feet again in loud protest: not only did Micah somehow have Gabriel’s flight plan, he was actually tracking Gabriel in Transpace – which wasn’t technically possible, even by cheating. But it didn’t matter for now: the rule was, once the simulation started, it was played out till the end. She watched as a silver hail of drones raced towards Gabriel’s fleet.
But soon the Genners were cheering Gabriel’s Hawks on as they raked across the frontline of drones that should have torn them apart. His five lead Hawks pinpointed the laser-armed Shuriken, despite the drones’ erratic avoidance manoeuvres, with amazing speed and accuracy, as if the spiked mines were drifting in space. The Hawks doused them with rapid pulse fire, lighting them up like fire-crackers. Hundreds of spheres winked out of existence, the digital scoreboard for Micah’s diminishing resources blurring in an effort to keep up. As the five lead Hawks’ beam weapons overheated, they peeled back, allowing the next five to push through seamlessly and open fire. Gabriel’s Hawks kept up this rotation for a full minute, destroying more than half of Micah’s drones. Petra noticed even the hard-liners amongst the Steaders were impressed with their genetically-enhanced offspring. Valiant as the Hawk pilots were, however, the swarm of mines began to close around them like an engulfing antibody. A section of drones within the cloud fell behind Gabriel and suddenly attacked the rear wave of recovering Hawks, obliterating three of them before the middle wave could fend them off. There’s too many, Gabe.
Gabriel’s Starpiercer veered away from the swarm, allowing the Hawks to shelter on its leeward side, then his ship whiplashed back into the heart of the drone storm, three Hawks in tight formation at its rear. Petra held her breath, thinking this was a suicide run, but Gabriel unleashed hidden cables anchored to his hull. As his ship began to spin, the cable-ends glowed white-hot, flailing outwards, lacerating the attacking drones, carving a boiling corridor through the drone-cloud’s centre. Anti-matter! Way to go, Gabe!
* * *
Micah watched Gabriel’s flawless performance. But it wasn’t enough. Together with Vasquez and Ramires, Micah had devised these annual games with one sole objective: to train Genners, to ready them for battle. But the odds were always stacked against them, because even upgraded to what Grid Society called Level Four, with a potential to develop to Level Five in generations to come, that’s how it would always be outside Esperia’s small system, out in the Grid. Still, Micah knew he could only hold the Genners back so long. Yet time and again, whilst Gabriel and the others excelled at tactics and strategic planning, they shied away from the tough calls and sacrifices necessary in any field situation. He knew it was because their group was tight-knit and small; Gabriel never wanted to lose anyone. But that was a colossal blind-spot, one an adversary like the Alicians would see and exploit fast.
He turned up the heat.
* * *
Petra heard gasps as Micah’s Reapers appeared in stealth-mode, black shadows against the dark tapestry of space, only visible by the occlusion of stars, engaging the nine other Hawks now on the opposite side of the drone cloud. At first the Reapers were no match for the reflexes of the Genner pilots; in less than a minute half the Reapers were cut down without a single Hawk casualty. Petra managed a subdued punch in the air.
Then the dome went eerily quiet as the remaining Reapers did something no one had seen before. If any Reaper got close to a Hawk, it exploded its engines and detonated all its weapons, sending debris in all directions. Because they were dark, it looked as if space was mined, random explosions spattering around the Hawks. Soon five Hawks were damaged enough to slow them down. Petra guessed what was coming. Two Blaze destroyers appeared. Steader cheers competed with Genner expletives as a broiling dogfight erupted before their eyes, particle beams criss-crossing the holo-screen.
That was when she detected a shift in the Shuriken pattern and saw the deeper layer in Micah’s plan. She pushed through to the ring, and rushed towards Gabriel’s chair, clicking a command to Brandt above the din. He heard it, and blocked Vasquez’ attempt to intercept her. Virginia’s eyes were steel, but she remained seated. Petra reached Gabriel’s side, noticing a single bead of sweat clinging to his temple. She spoke in clipped Hremsta: “Compression wave; jump now; higher goal,” then turned to the holoscreen, ignoring Vasquez’ glare.
The Shuriken were no longer in a loose cloud formation, but were in concentric circles, cocooning Gabriel’s Starpiercer and its attendant three Hawks. The outer sphere of drones flashed blinding white, then the next one followed suit, then the next. It happened so fast, and the light pulses were so intense, that everyone in the auditorium shrouded their eyes momentarily. Two seconds later, darkness flooded back in. Through blotchy vision, Petra searched for Gabriel’s ship, but could only see a vast area of carnage and scorched metal.
Brandt pointed at Gabriel’s scorecard and cheered. “He escaped!”
Petra let out a long breath, and felt Sandy’s hand squeeze her arm. Petra turned back to the holo to watch the remaining Hawks fight the destroyers and Reapers till the end, against impossible odds. When the last of the Hawks was destroyed, all the Genners clicked a single Hremsta word, Petra too, raising her right fist in the air. The Steaders all knew what it was, a word that translated as “Honour in life, honour in death.”
As the slightly dazed Genner Hawk pilots came out from under their headsets on the other edge of the ring, Vasquez saluted them. A number of other men and women, Steaders no less, stood and followed suit. That’s a first. She turned back to Virginia, only to meet a cool stare, before Gabriel’s girlfriend turned and pushed her way back through the crowd. Petra shrugged, and took Virginia’s seat, and gazed straight ahead.
Within seconds, Gabriel’s Starpiercer was thrust out of Transpace again by the two Blaze destroyers that had just eradicated most of Gabriel’s Hawks. Destroyer jump range was farther than a Starpiercer’s, but she still didn’t see how Micah was doing this. How had he been able to track ships in transit, since, after the first encounter, Gabriel must have realised Micah had advance information, and would have altered his next transit vector? She wasn’t alone; both Steaders and Genners were shouting unorthodox and unrealistic tactics. Then she got it. The first two destroyers must have tagged Gabriel’s Starpiercer, probably via coded micro-debris from their hulls clinging to it when Gabriel tore through their hulls. Not for the first time, she wondered how Micah thought like a Genner.
This time Gabriel did not turn to fight, and instead bore onwards into a nearby solar system, unable to pull away from the closing destroyers. The three remaining attendant hawks, knowing they would hold Gabriel back from reaching his maximum speed, bled away from the Starpie
rcer and headed back towards the lead destroyer. But it was futile – they were incinerated in the beam-fire before they could inflict any damage or even slow down the destroyers. Gabriel aimed straight for the sun. It had been a hot discussion topic with the Ossyrians as to whether the Starpiercer could really live up to its name. Petra twisted around for a moment, noted that the entire audience was on its feet, eyes glued to the chase scene. She joined them.
As Gabriel approached the point of no return, with the destroyers almost in firing range, he wavered to the left, then swung right, accelerating into a hard curve. The destroyers had momentarily adjusted direction to catch Gabriel, and now had to swing back. But they were less manoeuvrable, and laboured hard to make the course correction. All three ships skated along the lick of the sun’s corona, and Petra could only imagine the stresses on the hull and engines. Gabriel’s ship jettisoned all its cables. The lead destroyer caught several of them, atomizing the front half of the ship and flinging fireballs into the tandem destroyer, tearing off one of its engines, sending it careening down into the sun. Gabriel’s ship pulled away, and then jumped back into Transpace.
Unanimous applause broke out, but it sputtered as a quadrant of the star-field shifted, as if there had been a glitch in the holosim. Not everyone had seen it, but as the noise died down, two ugly black scars, rips in the fabric of space, opened up some way out from Esperia’s sun. All eyes darted first to Micah’s avatar returning to his battle chair on the bridge, then to Gabriel, who, in his last transit, was oblivious to something that had happened ahead of his ship. Petra couldn’t warn him this time, not while he was in transit.
Petra realized she had really hoped Gabriel would win this time. The Genners had earned it; deserved it. But Micah obviously had one more trick. She did the hyper-maths in her head to predict where Gabriel would drop out of transit. Even before she finished the calcs she’d been able to do since seven years of age, she knew where he would arrive, and glanced towards the two remaining Blaze destroyers on the other side of Esperia’s larger moon.
People quietened down as the holo zoomed in for the final showdown. If Micah had miscalculated by even a fraction, Gabriel would have had his target right there in front of him, with only a single battleship to fight. But she knew Micah hadn’t faltered, his strategy had been orchestrated with ruthless precision. Petra folded her arms, and stared at her adopted uncle, realizing she didn’t know him as well as she thought.
The two destroyers began blasting a focused beam on the moon’s surface, interspersed with ‘burrower’ nuclear torpedoes. Within seconds, rock spewed forth into space. The destroyers came about.
She knew now that Micah had used the remaining drones to explode two black hole mines close to the final transit route, creating a gravimetric shock wave; a ripple, in effect, but one strong enough to divert Gabriel’s transit vector by half a million kilometres. As his Starpiercer leapt back into normal space, instead of having the planet before him and Micah’s flagship in his sights, he met two destroyers head on, gun ports blazing. As yellow beams lit up space, Gabriel hardly had time to detect the dark avalanche streaming toward him from the moon. Pummelled by the rock, his ship was caught in the destroyers’ crossfire. The Starpiercer was sliced in half.
A single, space-suited figure ejected from the disintegrating ship, amidst a collective intake of breath by the audience. Petra held herself, then noticed something blink onto the scoreboard; another Hawk had entered the game. She spotted Virginia sitting in one of the dummy simulation chairs on the other side of the stage. Petra turned back to the screen. Just as the destroyers moved in for the final kill, a single Hawk dropped out of transit for a few seconds, then disappeared again, snatching up the avatar of Gabriel with it. Petra smiled. Way to go, girl. She vacated her seat before Gabriel came to, avoided Sandy’s searching stare, and headed toward the exit.
* * *
Micah leant back heavily in his chair. He knew he should feel elation, but his over-riding reaction was closer to nausea. He prayed he’d never have to do anything like this for real. But although Gabriel had lost the match, he had made the necessary sacrifices this time.
Micah would have preferred to remain inside the simulation till everyone had gone home, but no sooner had he thought it than he found himself ‘back’ in the dome.
Some of the Steaders were euphoric, cheering, but many were quiet. Micah gazed across to Gabriel, who was leaning forward, staring at the floor, a frown across his normally smooth brow. A phalanx of Youngbloods jumped onto the stage, placing themselves between Gabriel and Micah, with Brandt at their head. He jabbed a forefinger at Micah, shouting so that all could hear.
“You cheated, Micah, you got the location of our fleet. And black hole mines are illegal –”
“He won.” Gabriel hadn’t raised his voice, but it cut through Brandt’s onslaught nonetheless, and Gabriel’s cohorts turned to him, opening up a path between him and Micah. Gabriel stepped into the middle ground, and addressed everyone while staring at Micah. “It doesn’t matter how: cheating, use of illegal weapons, whatever. War is war.” He turned to the rest of the crowd, the Steaders, and his parents. “Once again we are reminded that we should be proud of what our elders can accomplish. We still have much to learn.”
The dome fell silent. Micah couldn’t judge the mood at that point: some pride, and maybe some mutual respect, which had been sorely missing in the increasing tension building during recent months. Gabriel turned to leave. Micah saw Sandy glaring at him, a look he knew too well.
“Wait,” Micah said, rising to his feet. “Gabriel, everyone, I have three announcements to make.” He cleared his throat. He’d rehearsed this over and over, to get the words exactly right, but he mentally binned his memorized speech, and said the first thing that came into his mind. “I cheated.” He met the eyes of the Steaders, other councilors, people he’d known and worked with for a generation. “I’d do it again to save this planet. And our enemies would do a lot worse. I rigged the simulation yesterday to deliver me the enemy’s position. But a real enemy can use various means to achieve the same end. A surprise attack isn’t any guarantee when facing a more advanced enemy. Surprise is a two-way street when it comes to war.” Especially with the Alicians. He remembered how they’d betrayed humanity, and stayed one step ahead, all the way. He faced Gabriel.
“But it says something when the only way I can beat you is to cheat.” Micah tried not to look in Sandy’s direction. “So, as President, by the powers vested in me, I now declare formally that you Genners are of age. The oldest of you is eighteen, but we all know that by the age of twelve you surpass us intellectually. I declare that any Genner at least sixteen years old is to be considered a full citizen of Esperia, with full voting rights.” Micah could barely hear the end of his sentence in the din that erupted. Some of the Council Members kept quiet – this had of course been discussed at length with them – most of them thought it was time, and agreed to let Micah decide the right moment to announce it. But Micah had two more surprises to unveil.
Gabriel stared back at him, and nodded, a rare smile sculpting his lips. Ramires leapt up into the ring and shook Micah’s hand, as he patted Gabriel’s shoulder. Micah nodded, risking a glance once more in Sandy’s direction, detecting one eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other.
Gabriel raised a hand, and waited for the shouting to die down. He stood close to Micah, his dark eyes glinting. “Mr. President, then I formally request that we be given a ship to hunt down and kill the Alicians who helped slaughter seven billion people.”
Micah paused before speaking. “That’s for Council to decide. And I hereby nominate you to Council.” There were gasps from some of the Steaders; a Genner had never sat in Council. Nominating Gabriel to Council was partly intended as a delaying tactic, aimed at stopping the Youngbloods from stealing one of the space-craft as soon as Quarantine came down. But Micah reckoned Gabriel would work that out pretty fast.
“Seconded,” Ramires sa
id.
“Thirded,” Vasquez added, sealing the vote.
Micah nodded, and spoke just to Gabriel. “Welcome to democracy, good luck with it.”
Gabriel folded his arms “Are you still going to block me in Council?”
Micah turned to the crowd and raised his hands high, and shouted. “Third,” he waited for the noise to abate, then spoke quieter, but with a firm tone. “My third announcement is that I’m retiring from the Presidency and the Council, effective immediately.” He rushed on. “Colonel Vasquez and Antonia have agreed to look after things until the next election in three months time.” Without another word, he jumped down off the stage, and made his way through the crowd toward the exit.
By the time he got outside it was dark. Petra sat astride a skimmer, revving the engine. She unhooked an earpiece. “Get aboard, Uncle. I’m of age now, according to you, so you can’t send me home, and anyway you promised my mother you’d look after me, which means we have to stick together.”
Micah sighed. “And where are you taking me?”
Petra tilted her head. “Didn’t you just say we surpass you intellectually at twelve? We’re going where you want to go, of course. Shimsha. Spider central.”
Micah heard others coming out of the dome. “Okay, but I drive.”
“Genner eyesight is better than –”
“I can see in the dark.”
She cocked her head. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Move. Your mother – your biological one – would beat me to a pulp if she knew how badly you’d been raised these past couple of years.” He swung his leg over the seat in front of Petra, switched off the skimmer’s lights, and took off down the valley, his resident automatically supplying him with night vision.
As they left Esperantia, he accelerated into the darkness, so that Petra had to shout above the wind. “We’re going to see Blake, aren’t we?” Her voice was light; she’d always liked speed, he remembered, having taken her on desert rides more than once.