Weapons of War

by M. R. Forbes

  "I can imagine."

  Diaz returned with the water, held in a large leaf. She kneeled next to Soon, helping him drink.

  "Thank you," Soon said. "I've never tasted anything like it."

  "You're welcome, Captain."

  "We have a lot of catching up to do," Soon said. "A lot you need to tell me. A lot I need to tell you."

  "You should rest, Captain," Ehri said. "You likely have a concussion. We're fortunate you didn't die with as much as we put you through."

  "There's no time to rest," Soon said. "Not now. If the enemy wasn't taking us seriously before, we both know they are now, or they wouldn't have launched a ship to chase the Magellan."

  "I can't argue with that," Donovan said. "We're headed back to the rebel base. It was attacked by the bek'hai, but there's a chance there may be some survivors."

  "How have you managed it all these years, Major?" Soon said. "Being down here with them? Being hunted?"

  Donovan remembered what it had taken for him and his mother to get to Mexico. To make it to the missile silo they had called home up until yesterday. "As much as you're enjoying the taste of the water and the smell of the air, I think we'd feel equally grateful to be at peace, to have some measure of safety and security. To be out there, instead of down here."

  "Not me," Diaz said. "Somebody has to fight. Somebody has to keep it all going."

  "You don't want peace?" Ehri asked.

  "Of course, I do. Peace on Earth. No more bek'hai. That's why we're all here, right?"

  "General St. Martin swore he would come back," Soon said. "For as long as I've been alive, he promised we would find a way to fight the enemy, and when we did, we would. He's an incredible man, the General. You're right, Lieutenant. Somebody has to keep it all going. We have a key. We just need to figure out how to use it. Our scientist, Reza, he's a genius. If anyone can reverse-engineer the enemy tech, it's him. The Magellan will be back. I can promise you that. If we can keep the enemy on their toes, if we can soften them up until the General returns, that's what we need to do."

  "That's what we will do," Donovan said. "We already sent a message to our headquarters in New York, to General Parker. The rest of the resistance will be organizing as we speak, preparing to fight back. Some of our people must have escaped. Once we regroup, we can make plans to begin to counter the bek'hai."

  Soon grunted in agreement, his eyes shifting over to Ehri. "Where do you fit into all of this?"

  "I convinced my Domo'dahm, my leader, to allow me to study humans up close. To join them before he completed his goal of ending the resistance. I learned of your ways. Your freedoms. Your ability to choose. I don't want to destroy my people. The lor'hai, the clones, are all like you. We are fully human, even if we are copies. The others don't choose freedom because they don't know what it is. They don't know it is a choice. I hope that by helping you, I will be able to give them a choice, and in doing so, will force the Domo'dahm and the drumhr to make a choice before all of our blood is shed."

  "I appreciate the idealism," Soon said. "I hope you have a chance to practice it. For my part, I'm not keen on letting the aliens off the hook so easily. Not the ones who are in charge, anyway."

  "I understand," Ehri said. "I have pledged my loyalty to Major Peters. I will follow his orders as they are given. At the same time, I trust in the compassion of humanity, as much as anything else."

  "You should try to rest a little," Diaz said. "We need to keep quiet, anyway. The bek'hai have excellent hearing." She looked over at Ehri when she said it.

  "Sensors," Donovan said. "Heat. Motion. Sound. There are ways to avoid all of them, and we'll teach you. For now, enjoy the chance to sleep under the stars for once, instead of among them. Enjoy the sound of flowing water. Wind. Air."

  Soon grunted again. "I'd rather be back up there with my wife, to be honest. But I'll take what I can get. I hope I get to share this with her one day."

  "I hope so too, Captain. I hope so, too."

  FIFTEEN

  Gabriel was on his way to the bridge when he nearly collided with Guy Larone. The astronomer was on his way out of the main conference room, a concerned look crossing his otherwise sour expression.

  "Pardon me, Captain," he said, his eyes betraying his almost cordial words.

  Gabriel didn't have a chance to reply. The scientist continued past him, storming down the corridor.

  Reza, Sarah, and Colonel Choi followed close behind, more calm in their demeanor. More focused. Reza smiled when he saw Gabriel.

  "Captain St. Martin," he said. "How is your father?"

  "I don't know," Gabriel lied. "He won't let anyone in to see him."

  "Not even you?" Sarah asked.

  "No. Believe me, I tried."

  He glanced at Colonel Choi. Her face suggested she didn't quite believe him. That was okay. As long as he didn't say anything, he was keeping his father's promise.

  It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he had spoken to Theodore. He had done as his old man had asked, retreating to his own concerns while his father succumbed to the pains of withdrawal from the meds. He could picture Theodore in the bathroom, spitting up everything he tried to put down, cursing against the agony he was surely feeling in the stumps of his legs by now. The thought made him want to rush to his father's side, to do something for him.

  Instead, he had been headed up to the bridge to take a shift. The Magellan was doing little more than traveling in the general direction of home at STL speed, balancing her acceleration with the overall load on the reactors. That didn't mean he couldn't give Lieutenant Bale a little R&R time.

  "What happened to Guy?" he asked, pointing at the man's back, nearly vanished in the dimness of the ship's lighting. Repair crews were still working on getting power regulation back up to spec.

  "He's unhappy," Sarah said. "What else is new."

  "About being stuck out here?" Gabriel asked.

  Guy's wife rolled her eyes. "About pretty much everything. I've tried to get him to see the light in all of this, but all he wants to do is complain about how we could have been on our way to the New Earth by now."

  "The one that only half of us would have reached?" Choi said.

  Sarah looked at the floor. "Yes, ma'am. We were all trying to find a viable solution for our future. It was never personal."

  "When you're intentionally letting people die, it's always personal," Choi said. "But personal feelings aren't what's important right now. Captain, Reza and Sarah have been working on the slipstream problem."

  "And?" Gabriel asked.

  "We've calculated that the stream that brought us here is likely still active," Reza said. "What we think happened is that the gravitational field of the Earth pushed us forward on it, onto the leading edge."

  "Normally, a starship can't join the edge of a stream because the nacelles need more purchase in subspace," Sarah said. "The result is that we were cast off by the stream when it reached its terminus."

  "Cast off?"

  "Like the ocean tides on Earth," Colonel Choi said. "We washed up on the shore."

  "I don't completely understand that," Gabriel said.

  "The important part is that we've been able to reconcile our position with the edge of the slipstream," Reza said. "We're outside of mapped space, but our sensors have picked up a solar system approximately two thousand AU from here. We believe we can pick up a slipstream there."

  "That's good news," Gabriel said, doing the math in his head. Somewhere between twenty and thirty days. It was more than he had hoped for, but it was better than being stuck for months. "I would think Guy would have been excited about getting out of here."

  "You would think that, wouldn't you?" Sarah said.

  "He thinks we've doomed the entire colony," Choi said. "We showed the Dread that we're willing to fight back and made them angry, and now they're going to come looking for us."

  "That part is probably true," Gabriel said. "He does realize the Dread don't know where the colony is, and
that space is a big place? Plus, we have the plasma rifle."

  "We've been tied up figuring out where the Magellan is," Reza said. "Now that we have a course to set, we'll start working on the rifle."

  "That's where Guy was headed," Sarah said. "He wanted to examine the device before Reza got to it. I think he's feeling a little jealous."

  Gabriel noticed the way Sarah looked at Reza when she said it. It wasn't any of his business, but it appeared that Guy might have a reason to be angry.

  Reza seemed oblivious to the older woman's attention. "Colonel, Captain, even if we do discover the method the Dread use to defeat their own shields, how are we going to weaponize it? The Magellan doesn't have any offensive capability."

  "We'll get to that when we have to," Colonel Choi replied. "With any luck, we'll have to figure that out very soon."

  "Yes, ma'am," Reza said. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to head down to the mess, and then join Guy in the hold."

  "Reza, do you mind if I join you?" Sarah asked.

  He shrugged. "Sure, if you want."

  "Colonel," Sarah said. "Captain." She smiled at them both, and then headed off alongside Reza.

  Both Gabriel and Colonel Choi watched them depart for a moment. Then Choi turned to him.

  "You saw your father, didn't you?"

  "No," Gabriel said.

  "You can't lie to me," Choi said. "You spent nine months in my womb, remember?"

  "Then don't push," Gabriel said.

  Choi nodded. "Understood. Should I be worried?"

  "About my father? No. About Guy Larone? Maybe. Did you see the way Sarah was making eyes at Reza?"

  "I did. She's old enough to be his mother."

  "Thankfully, Reza is too focused on his work to notice. For now. I'm willing to bet Guy has noticed."

  "You think he'll do something irrational?"

  "If his wife starts cheating on him on top of all of the other embarrassments he's already endured? His ego is getting crushed. I don't know if he can take it."

  "Those embarrassments are of his own doing."

  "I know. You're in charge while Theodore is missing in action, Colonel, but I recommend not giving him unfettered access to the most powerful weapon on the ship."

  "Agreed. I'll send Hafizi down to the hold, ostensibly to keep an eye on the weapon, not on Guy."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Where are you headed, Captain?"

  "I was going to relieve Lieutenant Bale. I've had time to rest and recover. She hasn't."

  "Bale is off-duty," Choi said. "Maggie is handling flight control at the moment. It isn't as if we're in any imminent danger."

  "There's no chance the Dread fortress followed us?"

  "No. According to Reza, their ship's design would make it unable to reach slip speed inside of the atmosphere. Even if they followed the same stream, their wave calculations would be completely different, as would their speed. They would be weeks out of sync, and considering how much there is out there, the odds of crossing paths with them are infinitesimally low."

  Gabriel smiled. "You sound just like Reza."

  "I'm not surprised. I was quoting him. In any case, Captain, take advantage of the time you have. I suspect we'll all have plenty to do soon enough."

  SIXTEEN

  Theodore St. Martin clung to the edge of the sink, dropping his head over the waste disposal. His stomach gurgled, and then he coughed, choking up small amounts of bile. It was all that was left in his system, ravaged and purged over the last twenty-four hours at his cold stop of the pain meds that had made him weak.

  It was nothing compared to the pain in his legs. Without the chemicals coursing through his bloodstream, the burning and itching sensations had returned with full force, leaving him barely able to prop himself up to vomit. He had never felt physical pain like it before.

  At the same time, he had known mental anguish ten times worse. He could recall it like it was yesterday. The day they reached Ursa Majoris. The first time he had a minute to himself, time to think about his Juliet.

  It was another pain to add to the rest of the stack. Juliet had been captured and cloned. His Juliet, his love, his angel. She was dead, sure as shit. She was gone. But her face would always be there to remind him. To distract him. He accepted that she was with God. That didn't make it hurt less. Everybody had a degree of selfishness in him. That was his.

  There were strategic implications, too. Could he fire on an enemy position when he knew he would be destroying her likeness, enemy or not? Could he do harm to a creature made from her DNA, who might share some of the qualities and quirks that he had loved so much?

  He knew he might have to. He knew he had to be ready for that.

  One thing at a time. The withdrawal was kicking his ass right now. There would be time for the tough choices to do that later.

  He coughed again, his hand slipping on the edge of the sink. He cursed, turning his shoulder so it would hit the shelf, cursing again at another new pain, and falling onto the floor.

  "General, are you okay?" he heard Diallo say. He appreciated the loyalty of the damnable woman, but she made him feel like an infant sometimes.

  "Just dandy, Sergeant," he replied. "Fell on my ass again. At least it makes it harder for it to get kicked."

  He rolled over and leaned back against the metal cabinet, gritting his teeth. The pain was intense. He wondered if Vivian had felt this way when she delivered Gabriel? He had been there with her. He had watched it happen. She was a trooper. The most loyal friend he had. Only Gabriel was more loyal.

  He reached up, wiping some cold sweat from his forehead. He had refused medical attention, but Diallo said stopping the medication the way he did would leave him this way for forty-eight hours. Two days. He could manage two days. It was a small price to pay for almost killing everyone on board, and ending their side of the war. A small absolution. He had been stupid for taking the pills in the first place.

  Forty-eight hours. It was making him feel old. Hell, he was old. He had no business still being alive, and he knew it. Stupidity had caused him to crash into that BIS. Arrogance. Maybe there had been a systems failure, but he shouldn't have been out there to begin with. He should have been above such things. Getting older was hard. To lose your reflexes, your eyesight, your legs. Getting older meant more and more loss, either within you, around you, or yourself altogether. He was the Old Gator. He had a responsibility.

  He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Medication or meditation. That was the only way forward. He couldn't command with the full brunt of the pain, no matter how tough he tried to be. The nerves were damaged, sending constant signals of panic and fury to his brain.

  Minutes passed. Tears began to roll from his eyes. He couldn't do it. He couldn't conquer this demon. No matter how much he wanted to. Its pull was too strong.

  He took the bottle of pills from his pocket and looked at it. His lip curled in pathetic sadness, his heart thumping rapidly. Why did things have to be so hard for him? Why did God challenge him this way? He had played it strong for Gabriel. Didn't let him see how hard this really was, and how hard he knew it would be.

  He opened the top and looked into the bottle. His legs were throbbing. Burning. Stabbing. He thought of Juliet. She would have been so calm, so cool and collected. She would have helped him through the meditation. She would have been patient.

  He shifted, turning the bottle over into the waste disposal, taking away his choices. He had to do it. For her memory. For Gabriel. For all of the souls on his ship.

  For himself.

  He heard her voice in his head as he focused on his breath again. "In through the nose. Hold. Out through the mouth. Five. Seven. Five."

  He repeated it over and over as he did it. He didn't know for how long. He only knew there was a point that he stopped thinking about his legs. He stopped thinking about the pain. He stopped thinking about everything.

  Everything except Juliet. What would she want him to do about the clon
es? About the Dread?

  Save the planet. Be compassionate. He was a military man. Compassion was hard to do.

  If he had the chance, he would try.

  For her.

  First, he needed the chance. He needed to survive this.

  Forty-eight hours.

  He opened his eyes, pulling out his watch. An hour had passed.

  Only twenty-two to go.

  SEVENTEEN

  "How could anyone be alive out there?" Diaz said.

  Donovan peered across the remains of the city from their vantage point at the base of the mountain. There had been few enough buildings still upright, and many had been brought to the ground by Dread mech and fighter attacks. Some of the areas were still smoldering, sending plumes of smoke into the sky. There were bodies visible on the ground, soldiers mostly, men and women who Donovan had served with and in some cases called friends.

  "I'm sorry," Soon said, standing beside him. The bek'hai bandage had served its purpose, healing the gash in his side fast and well. His head was better but not perfect. He refused Donovan's offer of a rifle they had captured, telling him that he wouldn't know which of the three duplicates he should shoot at.

  "The children were hidden," Donovan said, refusing to give up on their people. "They could still be down there. Others might have come back, too."

  "We should be quick," Diaz said. "Get in, look for survivors, get out."

  "Agreed," Donovan said. "Soon, can you handle it?"

  "Don't worry about me, Major. Take care of yourself and your people."

  Donovan pointed to the mass of mud they had carried from the river. It was a heavy burden to manage, but he knew they would need it. They set about covering themselves in the mud.

  "You have the signals down?" Donovan asked.

  "Yes, sir," Soon replied.

  Donovan slopped the wet earth into his hair and over his face. The others did the same. Once they were damp, he led them down and out to the open road. There was no sign of Dread soldiers, mechs, or fighters, though they had heard them flying overhead overnight.