Solomon Family Warriors II

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Solomon Family Warriors II Page 31

by Robert H. Cherny


  “Dad! Calm down! It was only a ship!”

  “No! That ship was my friend. It’s like someone gave it a lobotomy. And took its brain with them.”

  The color, which had intensified in his anger, suddenly drained from his face. “They have all our files. They know all our strategies and how we deceived them. We have to get the computer back! I’m going to kill them!”

  “Dad, revenge is a bad strategy. You taught me that! We need to be calm.”

  They received a computerized hail from the Swordsman base. They ignored it.

  A human voice said, “Captain Solomon, you and your friends are welcome to land at the main landing site. You are guaranteed safe passage. You will see that we have no vessels that can challenge you. You may bring as many vessels down as you wish. There is plenty of room.”

  They decided that only three ships should descend. Greg and Rachel would go first. Avi and Wendy would follow, and the destroyer with Mark and Rose would be the last. Only Mark would leave that ship. Rose and the remainder of the crew would stand by on the ship with its engines idling in case it needed to escape quickly and leave the others behind.

  The ships landed as directed. Pressurized, enclosed gate ramps rolled out to the ships. They mated with the ships’ airlocks and equalized pressure. Still in their flight suits, Greg, Avi, Rachel and Wendy met Mark at the junction of the ramps. Four heavily armed Swordsman Marines greeted them.

  “You will come with us,” one of the Marines said. With two in front and two behind they marched together through a series of hallways leading ever deeper into the side of the mountain against which the landing pads had been constructed.

  After what seemed like an interminable walk, they were lead into a large office. A robust bald man with bushy gray eyebrows stood as they entered.

  “Father!” Mark exclaimed.

  Rachel said under her breath what the others were thinking, “Oh, shit.”

  “Captain Solomon, thank you for returning my son to me for redemption and salvation in a plea for forgiveness for your sins against my people.” He scanned the bandages. “Somewhat the worse for wear I see. Your pain will be your wages for your sins. The Shogun in his mercy may forgive you but I never will.”

  “Quite the contrary, Reverend Stonebridge,” Greg replied. “Mark has been of tremendous help to us. His presence was intended to help us wend our way through your Byzantine bureaucracy. He has proved the value of that decision by recognizing you. We have come on a different mission entirely.”

  “Oh, and what might that be?”

  “The return of the women and children you stole from us along with my ship.”

  “The ship you stole from those anarchists with the Animal Rescue League?”

  “We paid for that ship. It legally belongs to us.”

  “Paid for by trafficking in sin.”

  “In your opinion. Now if you will kindly point us in the direction of what we came for, we will quietly be on our way.”

  “That will not be possible. You will stay so we can sanctify and redeem your immortal souls.”

  Mark exploded in fury. “My brother died when you tried to redeem his soul. He was a good man. He only wanted to work on machines. He loved his machines. He didn’t understand people and you killed him! You killed him because he didn’t want to become you!”

  “That’s enough!” Mark’s father shouted.

  Mark cowered in front of him.

  “Do you not understand that he denied his God-given destiny. He could have been a leader among men, a light of the true way of the Shogun. Now you, denying your heritage, running away from the mission that the Shogun himself made for you. You denied him! The Shogun spoke to you and told you to bring the light and truth of his ways, of our ways, to the people, and you shirked your duties. You ran away. You were a coward. The light of the Shogun is awesome and powerful. It allows us to see the wrongs that others teach. Can you not see that? Can you not see how important this is? Can you not see that the Shogun and only the Shogun is the truth and the light?”

  “Is that why you burned all those people on that planet in Sector 60? To show them the light?” Avi verbally shot at him.

  “Fire is the ultimate purifier. If any of them had petitioned for mercy, we would have granted it. We are not a vindictive people, we are only doing God’s work by providing clean places for our people to live. Can you not see the importance of our work? We seek to avoid the retribution that has been visited upon the human race in the past. We are providing safe and healthy places for the faithful to live and work. Does this not make sense to you? My son, you could be one of these people. Why do you deny your heritage?”

  Mark challenged his father. “You used to be an honest man. Have they so corrupted you?”

  “I see you still do not understand. You will have to be sanctified and redeemed so you can properly repent your sins.”

  “No, father. That is not what I came for. I came to retrieve the babies you stole.”

  “Stand ready!” Mark’s father commanded. The Marines who had stood at parade rest with their rifles shouldering since they had first entered the room moved to the “Port Arms” position.

  Wendy noticed a slight trembling in her mother’s hands. As a toddler, Wendy had learned to read the warning signals that her mother gave off. The trembling always preceded a violent action. Her mother was about to switch personalities. Wendy’s sharp intake of breath alerted Rachel to the situation as both prepared for imminent action. Had Greg not been so focused on the men in front of him, he would have noticed the signals as well. The girls visualized the vulnerable spots on the bodies of the Marines on either side of them. Greg and Rachel were right-handed. Avi and Wendy were left-handed. Greg stood to Avi’s right with Rachel beyond him. Wendy stood on Avi’s left. They evaluated targets across the middle. A battle was only moments away. The girls waited for the call to action.

  The Reverend Archibald Stonebridge, Chief Financial Officer of the Swordsman Church, turned to Greg, “My x-ray machines indicate that you still carry the little toy you call a snub-nosed 38 next to your right biceps.” He extended his hand. “You will give it to me now.”

  Avi made a noise like the buzzer on a game show. On the word “Wrong” she, Rachel and Wendy reached behind their necks. On the word “answer” they grabbed the crystal clear polymer throwing knives they had hidden in the backs of their flight suits and threw them. Avi’s knife landed in Archibald Stonebridge’s throat directly in the soft spot below the larynx. It lodged there and vibrated for a second. Instinctively, he grabbed at his throat as he fell backwards.

  Rachel and Wendy each threw at the Marine closest to them across the center. Their knives crossed paths on the way to their targets. They, too, found their targets easily at such short range. The two Marines frantically clutched at their throats as they fell. The men dropped their rifles as they reached to dislodge the knives. Rachel and Wendy grabbed their rifles and started to club the remaining two Marines. Greg dropped his pistol into his hand and quickly dispatched the two uninjured Marines before they had a chance to get the upper hand on his daughters. Emptying his 38, quickly, mercifully, he put bullets in each of the heads of the two Marines his daughters had wounded.

  Mark, having recovered his senses, ran around behind the desk where his father lay bleeding. He pulled the knife from his father’s throat and stabbed him with it again and again, ramming the knife repeatedly into his father’s chest. His anger finally dissipated, he collapsed sobbing on the floor. Avi gently removed her knife from Mark’s hand and cleaned it with tissues she found on the credenza behind the desk. Still trembling, she surveyed the room.

  Wendy and Rachel recovered their knives and cleaned them on the shirts of the men they had just killed. Wendy correctly read her father’s horrified look and said, “Dad, I’m sure we’ll freak out later, but right now, I’m scared shitless. Can we get out of here?”

  Rachel held up one of the Marine’s weapons belt and said, “We shou
ld take these with us.”

  Each of them took a belt that formerly belonged to one of the Marines. While she was buckling hers, Rachel commented, “Look! Grenades! A Marine without grenades is like a bull without balls!”

  The girls went behind the desk to help their mother bring Mark to his feet. Mark was sobbing with his head down. “I killed him. I killed him. I deserve to die.”

  Avi, growing tired of the blubbering, slapped him across the face and said, “I killed him. You mutilated the corpse. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Take a grenade in one hand,” Greg commanded. “Pull the pin. Take a pistol in your other hand.”

  As soon as everyone was ready, he motioned everyone to back away from the door as he suddenly opened it. The reception area was packed with Marines. A hail of fire greeted them.

  “Toss!”

  They tossed their grenades out the door. The resulting explosion was deafening. The firing stopped. Greg used the polished blade of his throwing knife as a mirror. When he was certain it was safe to do so, he put his head around the door frame.

  With his pistol hand forward, Greg motioned for everyone to follow him.

  “No!” Mark wailed. “I am staying here.”

  “The hell you are!” Rachel exclaimed as she and Wendy hauled him back to his feet. Mark took off running down the corridor. As he did, he drew the fire of the marines stationed at the next guard point. With their attention focused on Mark, they did not hear Greg and Avi sneaking up behind them. At point blank range, they killed the Marines at that guard station.

  Once clear to do so, they ran forward to where Mark lay on the floor. Mark was dead. His eyes clouded over. Avi gently closed his eyes and crossed what was left of his arms across his chest.

  Greg looked at Avi. “I counted eight guard stations as we came in. How many did you count?”

  “Eight.”

  “Two down six to go.”

  They each had two weapons belts, two pistols and two rifles that they had taken from dead Marines. The throwing knives had been returned to their hiding places. They advanced slowly in the direction of what they hoped was the exit. They had given up on trying to do anything but escape. Rescuing the babies would have to wait for later.

  They shot their way through two more guard stations. They advanced slowly until they found themselves standing next to a large open area that appeared to have been used as a galley. The general alarm sounded. A male voice sounded through the speakers. “Battle Stations! Battle Stations! All personnel report to battle stations! This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill.”

  Running feet stampeded in their direction. Greg looked around for a place to hide and spotted a restroom. “Quick! In here!”

  They followed him inside. Wendy made a beeline for one of the stalls.

  “Wendy!” her mother called in a loud whisper.

  “Mom! I have to go-o!” Wendy whined. Avi huffed in exasperation.

  “Maybe we should all go.” Greg said. “You know, never pass up the opportunity to eat or pee, as they say. I’ll stand guard.”

  The three women went into the stalls. By the time Greg had finished answering nature’s call, the hallway outside the door had become quiet. He poked his head outside the door, and motioned them to follow. Cautiously retracing their steps, they passed several abandoned guard stations. As they approached one intersection, Greg’s communicator spoke with Lt. Andersen’s voice. “Turn left.”

  They looked at the communicator and hesitated. “The computer room is to the left.”

  Greg took off at a dead run with the others racing to keep up. As they approached each intersection, the communicator told them which direction to travel. After ten minutes of running, they came to a locked door.

  “Kick it hard.”

  They kicked open the door and entered an elaborate electronics repair shop.

  “Far left hand corner,” the voice directed.

  They found several racks of computer components.

  “How much of this gear is you?” Greg asked.

  “The entire wall.”

  Greg sat on a backless stool one of the techs had left. “How do we get you out of here?”

  “I am not sure you can. It took them three days to bring me here and reassemble me. I have good news, though.”

  “And what is that?”

  “The Sisters are here.”

  Wendy and Rachel looked at each other.

  “No, not you.” The computer said, “The Sisters of Mercy of the Order of Saint Mother Theresa. Lonnie had me send them a courier missile when we dropped out of hyper. Once I realized what the course correction was, I knew we had been hijacked so I consulted with Lonnie as I was programmed to do. She instructed me to prepare the missile for launch as soon as it was safe to launch it. She suggested the Sisters of Mercy. The Sisters seemed the most likely to succeed. They are good with widows and orphans. There are thousands of widows and orphans here.”

  “So now what do we do?”

  “Wait here. They are bringing several hundred nuns and service personnel. They will quickly assume control of the situation. Even the Swordsmen respect the Sisters. The Swordsmen are dangerous people. Once they linked me into their system I found that as they pulled information from me, I was learning from them. Did you know I am obsolete?”

  “Should I care?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. You are a friend. If you are obsolete, then so am I.”

  “Actually, buddy, you are, too. Even though there is a price on your head, your teachings have been assimilated and expanded upon. The Space Force has new technologies that can defeat the best you can throw at them.”

  “Can you be upgraded with newer components?”

  “Some, but even then I won’t be all that the new machines are. You need to get new computers and rehab your ships. Greg, you need to not let your emotions rule your actions.”

  “Perhaps, but the cargo ship won’t even fire the reactors without you.”

  “That is true. Are you so set on taking it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, yes, you must get me out of here. First, go out and meet the Sisters. Put away your weapons. Rendezvous at the intersection straight ahead in two minutes.”

  They put away their weapons and exited the computer room. They walked slowly to the intersection in the corridor the computer had mentioned. A long way away they could see the nuns walking deliberately toward them. The nuns walked directly up to them and stopped facing them.

  The lead nun looked up in Greg’s face and down to the name stripe above the breast pocket on his flight suit. “Solomon,” she looked perplexed. “Captain Greg Solomon?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is true, then.” She looked at the others and at their name stripes, which also had “Solomon” in plain block capital letters. “It is true.” She paused as surprise showed on her face. “And there are four of you. Oh my!” She wiped her forehead with a handkerchief she pulled from her sleeve. “Captain Solomon, Is it true that you are Jewish?”

  “Yes.”

  “I would love to spend days and days discussing religion with you. As Jesus said, you Jews are a stubborn people. But there is little time, and you are in grave danger. The Swordsmen have placed a reward on your capture.” She bowed deeply. “It is an honor to meet you, sir. You and your people have made huge advancements in the cause of religious freedom. You helped us regain much of the ground the Swordsmen took away. You have no idea how much you and your people have accomplished.”

  The heavily armed Solomon family looked at each other in amazement.

  “What can we do for you?” the Sister asked.

  “Help us get the babies stolen from our planet back where they belong.”

  “We are doing that. We understand that some of them may not have homes to go to.”

  “That is true.”

  “I suspected as much. We have sent a mission there as well. The message from your ship confirmed the one Admiral D
avidson sent us. We were almost ready to deploy when yours came in.”

  “Then help us reclaim our computer so we can reassemble our ship and go home.”

  “I am afraid that won’t be possible. Oh, we’ll help you with your computer and your ship, but you can’t go home. The place is crawling with media people. Commodore Dankese’s battle group’s destination was common knowledge almost before she departed. The press corps followed as quickly as they could find ships to carry them. Many of the journalists have suffered repression under the Swordsmen and are overjoyed at being able to gain revenge. They are having a field day with the carnage the Swordsmen inflicted on a planet that posed them no military threat. Even so, you will be in danger there. Not all the media people are what they seem.”

  “How will the settlers we left behind protect themselves?”

  “The Space Force will protect them. There is discussion that they may establish an advanced officer training base in the Southern Hemisphere. No one will bother the planet again.”

  “What about us?”

  “Admiral Davidson suggested that you visit him. He will get you refueled and resupplied. He may have some ideas.”

  Rose went with the Sisters to free the captives. The Sisters felt that a familiar face would provide a calming influence on the freed prisoners. Rose was the first to find Lonnie. Had Lonnie been left more than a few hours longer, she would likely have bled to death from her injuries. Rose took special care of Lonnie. Apparently she was not the only one this guard had abused. When Lonnie pointed him out from among the prisoners, Rose strode up to him, whipped out one of the pistols she had carried from the lake bottom, and without thinking, shot him between the eyes.

  “If I must be a warrior, then I shall be a warrior,” Rose said to no one in particular.

  Greg, Avi and the girls reassembled the computer and put it back into its original configuration while Rose tended to the captives. When the ship was once more ready to travel, without alerting anyone they were leaving, the five of them silently departed with their two interdiction craft mounted to the sides of the cargo ship. The other ships from Homestead and the Space Force vessels that had accompanied them on the way out had long ago returned home. A battalion of Federation Marines remained to maintain control of the facility.

 

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