Warlord 2: The Nobility

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Warlord 2: The Nobility Page 7

by CJ Williams


  “What’s up, Johnny?” Carrie asked.

  He looked at her with an inexplicably guilty expression. He muttered something to Debbie Weeks and pointed to the tactical display screen. She touched her console and the screen came to life with a view of a tranquil planet, much like Earth.

  At first glance Carrie identified it as the third planet of this system. She had studied their reconnaissance reports during the trip out from J97. Sixty-five percent of the surface was covered with oceans; the rest was made up of four continents and two poles with arctic caps.

  The view on the display was a still shot from one of their recce drones, positioned where half the planet was in daylight, half in night. On the night side, faintly glowing clusters of light indicated a few larger metropolitan areas.

  “We have a problem, Admiral,” Grimes reported in a funeral director’s voice. Something in his demeanor made it clear this was not about George. He faced the screen. “Go ahead and play it,” he said to Weeks.

  Without warning, the continental mass on the dark side of the planet erupted with bright flashes of light. It was being bombarded with nuclear weapons.

  Carrie gasped in shock. “Is it the Bakkui?”

  “It’s us,” Grimes replied quietly. “George, explain it for the admiral.”

  “Of course,” George responded in an even tone. “Admiral Faulkner, it appears that several stray shots from our battle with the Bakkui have impacted the third planet.”

  Carrie stared at the viewscreen in disbelief. Those were her shots hitting the planet? She would die if there was loss of life.

  Even as the thought came to mind she knew that would happen. The question was how many would die. Hopefully the projectiles were hitting unpopulated areas.

  After the first few detonations burst against the planet’s surface, they began to explode faster. Each new impact produced a massive flash of light that shot up through the globe’s stratosphere. The explosions started to come more quickly; there were hundreds of impacts. It was like watching the culmination of a massive Fourth of July fireworks show. The detonations spread across the entire dark side but most were centered near the equator. Nothing would survive under the multi-megaton assault.

  “How could…” Carrie had no idea how to frame the questions that were swamping her brain.

  George’s calm voice provided the answer. “Our newly enhanced projectiles incorporate a terminal guidance function,” he explained. “It appears that all the rounds that did not actually impact the Bakkui simply continued in system. Unfortunately, at this particular time, the geometry of the third planet’s orbit was such that it fell within the detection capability of our guidance system. Each projectile homed in on the planet until impact. Clearly this was an oversight in the design.”

  “An oversight?” Carrie whispered. “Are you telling me— Oh my God!” Carrie’s gasp of dismay was echoed around the bridge.

  From the center point of the repeated impacts, where the explosions now spattered nuclear flame like melting steel under a welder’s torch, a massive red line appeared, expanding jaggedly outwards; the planet’s crust was being torn apart. The largest crack extended toward the northern pole; another reached across the continent to the western shoreline. Other fractures around the planet began to appear.

  “Is it…is it really…” Carrie could not bring herself to ask the question.

  “You are correct, Admiral,” George said. “The planet will not survive. I estimate at least three thousand hits. I am afraid that our projectiles are far more devastating than the Bakkui. Our muzzle velocity is over one hundred times theirs and the depleted plutonium shells contain more mass. Just the physical impact of each round is producing over sixty megatons of explosive force. Additionally, our penetrating warheads are sending them deep into the planet. The thermonuclear cores are producing subsurface detonations of over two hundred megatons apiece. The planetary mantel cannot contain the force of so many strikes.”

  In apparent slow motion, massive fragments of the planet separated from the surface and drifted lazily upward. On the daylight side, a white streak appeared in one of the oceans where countless cubic miles of seawater were turning to steam. The streaks quickly turned a deep orange and then red.

  A hoarse male voice at one of the bridge stations cried out, “There it goes!”

  The globe split into massive segments, which in turn, disintegrated into smaller chunks as centrifugal force began tearing them apart. The planet didn’t explode in a blinding flash; instead, it came apart in an unhurried manner. From the distant perspective of the reconnaissance probe, the destruction seemed almost leisurely.

  “The entire planet?” Carrie asked softly. “You’re telling me I destroyed an entire planet through an oversight?” Her legs buckled, suddenly unable to support her weight. She tried to brace herself on the back of the captain’s chair, but the outcome of her actions forced Carrie slowly to her knees. She gripped the armrest with one hand and her chest with the other. A tortured groan escaped her lips that came from deep inside her chest. She tried to stifle it, but that made it hard to breathe. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out.

  “Admiral!” Grimes rushed to her side. “Angie, help me,” he ordered the number two tactical officer.

  “Please don’t, Admiral,” Angie said, sobbing as she helped Grimes pull Carrie off the floor. “It’s only three hundred million. All the other planets out here have billions of people. It could have been so much worse.”

  In the back of her mind Carrie heard the ghosted memory of herself scolding Alisha. “When talking about human lives, never use the term ’only’.”

  Back on her feet, Carrie pushed Angie aside. After several gasps she managed to take in a breath of air. “I’m okay. Johnny, set course to the third planet. Launch all warships to search for survivors.”

  It was a fool’s errand. Those transmitted images, traveling at the speed of light, were already two hours old. There would be no survivors.

  “Helm, take us to the third planet,” Grimes ordered. “George, put all warships on cockpit alert.”

  *.*.*.*

  “Admiral on the bridge!” one of the officers shouted as Carrie emerged from the corridor. Several bridge officers looked in her direction. Each one in turn started noticeably. Grimes actually flinched. He hurried over.

  “Admiral, you shouldn’t be here. Please go back to your quarters and rest.” His eyes kept flicking nervously to her hair.

  “I’m fine, Johnny,” she replied with a hollow voice. “The doc gave me a shot of something. What is it?” He was still looking at her hair surreptitiously and alternately examining her face and eyes. “Is my hair messy? I forgot to brush it after I got up.” She pulled her hands through her hair self-consciously.

  “It’s white,” Grimes whispered worriedly.

  She grasped a handful of hair and pulled it in front of her face so she could see. It surprised her. No wonder everyone was looking at her like she was a ghost. “It’s not white,” Carrie replied with dark humor. “It’s sort of a grayish dead-looking color. Never mind.”

  The main viewscreen showed the planet below; except it wasn’t a globe anymore. What had been the third planet was now a slowly lengthening smear of debris in orbit around its sun.

  “Status?” Carrie asked.

  “No survivors.” Grimes replied.

  Carrie nodded. “We knew there wouldn’t be. Thank you for trying. Please recall your crews.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Grimes nodded at his first officer.

  “Johnny, I hate to do this to you.”

  “Don’t, Admiral,” he replied urgently, as if he knew what she was thinking. He gently pushed her backwards, trying to escort her from the bridge. He obviously didn’t want the crew to hear what she was going to say.

  “I’m resigning my commission, effective immediately.”

  “Carrie, don’t do it. This wasn’t your fault. It was everything else but you. George was right; this was a desi
gn oversight.”

  “Three hundred million souls, Johnny. I can hear them in my brain right now. How many times did I say keep firing?”

  “Admiral, please,” Grimes hissed. “The crew needs to know you’re in charge. Right or wrong, they believe in you. If you resign now, it will hurt the crew.”

  He was pushing the right button; it was true that her crew came first. Certainly before anything she wanted. The truth was that in whatever life remained for her; her desires were no longer worthy of any consideration.

  “All right,” she said. “You can leave it that way on paper, but you have the bridge for now. And you’ll keep it until we get back. But do me one favor.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Prepare a memorial plaque and find me a solid surface. At the very least I want to do that for them.” She nodded at the debris on the viewscreen.

  “Of course. I’ll notify the troop commander to be ready.”

  “No, no.” Carrie gripped his hands with hers. “Just me. I’m too ashamed to be in front of our soldiers.” Grimes started to argue but she cut him off. “Don’t try to sugarcoat it. We both know I violated everything we stand for. But I’d still like to place a marker to acknowledge the loss of these people; that’s all. Then you can take us back to J97.”

  “Very well. When do you want to do this?”

  “I’m ready anytime.” Carrie squeezed his hands again. “I’m sorry, Johnny. I feel like I’m losing my mind and I can’t stop it. I should be locked up or something, for murdering so many people.”

  In an abstract way, Carrie felt sympathy for Grimes. His expression was filled with horror mixed with compassion. He didn’t know how to deal with this new version of his boss. She tried to straighten up and look him in the eye, but her body was bent under a yoke bearing the weight of too many lost souls.

  Grimes barked an order at one of his officers and then put his arm around her shoulders to lead her from the bridge. “I’ll escort you to the hangar bay, then. It will be ready by the time we get there.”

  When they reached the hangar bay, a shuttle was already positioned on the ready line with the cargo bay door opened. It was Sadie. Two men were loading a massive stone and brass monument. It was wedge-shaped and sat atop a gravity lifter. The men stood back to let her read the inscription.

  “Within this debris field lie the remains of three hundred million innocent citizens who lost their lives in the struggle against the Bakkui. Their names are unknown but their memory will last forever. Dedicated by the crew of Lulubelle of the Milky Way Alliance.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “That’s just right.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want an escort?” Grimes asked her once more.

  “I’m sure. I won’t be long.”

  Grimes gave her one last worried stare. He said, “Dominique found a location and George gave it to Sadie.” He helped Carrie up the small step into the cargo bay.

  Sadie closed the shuttle’s door.

  “Take us out, please Sadie,” Carrie said.

  “You don’t look too good,” Sadie offered as she flew out of the hangar into space.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Carrie was not in the mood to be lectured.

  Sadie rolled out, pointed at the designated site. The planetary fragment was flat on one side and jagged underneath. Up close Carrie could see a paved walkway winding through a grassy open space. Perhaps it had been a park. Her theory was confirmed by a maze of colorful bars that could only be a jungle gym for an alien playground.

  “Strap on your personal force field before I open the door,” Sadie said sternly. “We’re setting down in about ten seconds.”

  Carrie took one of the beer-can size devices from the equipment locker and clasped it to a tool belt. The PFF created a flexible gravitational field around a single individual that trapped atmosphere and heat, letting the wearer work in space in a shirtsleeve environment. She pulled on a set of gravity gloves and pair of grav-wellies—overboots with small, built-in gravity pads that would let her walk across the rocky surface of the planetary remnant, too small now for its own gravity.

  The cargo door opened and Carrie thumbed the switch on the handle of the gravity lifter. It rose off the deck and she pushed it out onto the grassy park. The green blades of grass were already turning dark and she left footprints where her boots crushed the frozen lawn.

  It was indeed a playground. The see-saws could be nothing else; a raised metal bar supported four long, brightly colored planks with grips at each end. It was as good a spot as any. She pushed the lifter until it was positioned near the see-saws and then twisted the dial counter-clockwise, switching its gravity pad output from negative to positive. The marker fell with a silent thump; she felt the vibration through her wellies.

  Appropriate words wouldn’t come. Carrie wanted to ask forgiveness but was too embarrassed to do so. “I’m sorry,” seemed inadequate, so she stood silently wishing for impossible alternatives.

  “You can’t take it back once you pull the trigger.” Her father’s words came to mind from her childhood lessons on learning how to shoot a rifle. It didn’t matter that it had been an accident. Even when they were unintended, tragic deaths were just as final.

  She examined the other playground equipment and was both comforted and horrified by the similarities to her own childhood. The jungle gym was more spherical; a slide was wider and had a gentler incline. The flat merry-go-round was almost exactly as she remembered. A bundle suspended from the inner frame caught her eye and she moved closer.

  The sight swamped her already fragile composure and tears leaked from her eyes and floated away in the zero gravity. It was a teddy bear. We are all human in this universe, she thought. What else would a father buy for his beloved daughter but a furry critter with big ears and round eyes? The mouth was stitched into a wavy smile. Its arms were spread wide in welcome…or perhaps it was saying “take me with you.” The little guy didn’t want to stay in this silent memorial park for all eternity.

  It took all of her strength to move close enough to untie the ribbon that someone had used to attach it to the metal bars. A cloth tag with writing was sewn into a seam, but she couldn’t make it out. The alien characters formed an indecipherable script. But when she squinted at the letters, they gave a haphazard impression that could be interpreted as Teeny Jim. It might just be her imagination.

  Sadie intruded into her thoughts. What are you doing? the AI asked. Please return to the shuttle.

  Carrie ignored the request and sat on the metal floor of the merry-go-round, clutching the little bear to her heart. Inside the trapped air of the PFF she detected a faint aroma but couldn’t place it. Perhaps it was some exotic herbal scent, or maybe the local equivalent of baby powder.

  She pushed sideways to spin the platform but when her wellies disconnected from the surface, the lack of gravity made her float sideways, drifting off the carousel. She dragged her feet on the ground and it came to a stop.

  Admiral. Please return to the shuttle.

  A motion caught her eye and Carrie looked up. The Lulubelle, looking regal, highlighted by the local sun, was moving away.

  “Status?” Carrie said automatically.

  I’m checking, Sadie replied. The Bakkui virus has taken hold.

  Lulubelle pointed her nose toward Bakkui space and accelerated out of sight.

  “What about the crew?” Carrie asked. “I never got a chance to talk to Johnny.”

  Captain Grimes is quite intelligent. He’ll figure it out.

  Carrie squinted uselessly, trying to spot her departed flagship. Doesn’t that cap off a perfect day, she thought. She had murdered a world of people that she meant to rescue, and now she had lost her crew on a one-way trip to the Bakkui home world.

  Would Grimes bring them back? Did it make any difference now? Not to me, she decided. She couldn’t see a future past the end of the playground. Where the ragged edge of earth dropped off into nothingness, the pr
ospect of life was only a hellish nightmare.

  The faint idea that had been forming in the back of her mind solidified. There is one way to stop the agony, she thought. And it would be a just conclusion. The guilt she had been tamping down was growing. With her crew now out of reach, she could accept the burden that fate had thrown at her feet. She looked at the bear she had been clutching so tightly against her chest.

  “What about you, Teeny Jim?” Carrie asked quietly. “Should we just go down together? I could tell your family how sorry I am.” She rotated the bear back and forth as if he was nodding in agreement.

  Admiral! Sadie said again. Please return to the shuttle.

  “Sorry,” Carrie replied aloud rising to her feet. “I’ve got someplace else to go.” In one quick movement, she unclasped the PFF cylinder from her tool belt and hurled it into space as hard as she could.

  Faster than Carrie thought possible Sadie was at her side, the cargo door open. Sadie moved sideways, brushing against Carrie’s ankles with the bottom of the door sill, literally scooping her into the shuttle. The door slammed closed.

  Carrie, back in a one gee environment, fell to the floor. She lost her grip on the teddy bear and it bounced against the far wall.

  “Why did you stop me?” Carrie sobbed. “I can’t stand this anymore.”

  “Because you’re not thinking clearly,” Sadie responded gently. “You’re hurting too much to make a rational decision.”

  “I order you to open that door!”

  “Sorry, Carrie. My programming includes enough medical acumen to recognize when someone is not acting rationally. I can ignore your commands when you act this way.”

  “Then I’ll do it later, when you’re not around. You can’t stop me.”

  “That is your prerogative,” Sadie acknowledged. “But maybe by then you’ll reconsider. For now, please think about what I’m saying. I can’t afford to lose you. The human race can’t afford to lose you. What about Governor Lindsey? He loves you like a daughter. He would be devastated if you died. What about your own father back on Earth?”

 

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