Warlord 2: The Nobility

by CJ Williams

  Carrie didn’t want to think about the people she loved at the moment. It just added to the pain. She screamed in frustration as loud as she could and then lay on the floor sobbing until she fell asleep.

  *.*.*.*

  Carrie woke to every muscle in her body aching. The memories rushed back and she lay curled in a ball and groaned. It was still a nightmare, but the pain had receded fractionally. The food replicator dinged. Sadie had detected she was awake and prepared a meal.

  “It’s pancakes,” Sadie said.

  Carrie knew. She could smell them. They were warm and soft and fluffy with gobs of butter on top, melting and running down the sides. It was her favorite breakfast menu and one she only allowed herself on rare occasions.

  Carrie pushed herself up on her elbows and saw Teeny Jim lying in the corner. On her hands and knees she crawled across the floor and snatched him up. After struggling to her feet, she shuffled over to the tiny kitchenette in the back corner of the cargo bay and pulled the tray from the replicator. The orange juice disappeared in one long gulp. The replicator dinged again and Carrie pulled out a second glass.

  Sadie was being particularly solicitous this morning.

  Carrie settled into the pilot’s seat and set her tray on the front console; a particularly forbidden act by all her standards.

  Outside the canopy, streaks of multi-colored lights whizzed by. Carrie propped the teddy bear against the front of the canopy facing the stars. “Keep an eye on where we’re going, Teeny Jim. Tell Sadie if she goes off track.” Then she poured syrup over the pancakes and slowly ate a quiet breakfast.

  When the last bite was gone Carrie leaned back and sighed. “I thought you were going to yell at me,” she said.

  “If not for my medical and psychological modules I would have,” Sadie replied.

  “I still want to die. This hurts so much I can’t stand it. I don’t care how much programming you’ve had, there is no way you could understand how I feel. I already feel dead, just like everyone on that planet. My brain just doesn’t know it yet. In school, they told us that when killers kill, they destroy a bit of their soul each time. You can see it in their faces, in their eyes.”

  “I accept what you are saying, Carrie Faulkner. Your own planet’s medical sciences have proven that killing alters the brain, even if the act itself is justified. But it is especially traumatic if it involves innocents.”

  “I keep seeing it again in my mind; the planet tearing apart. I can hear their screaming, wondering why they are dying.”

  “Try to not add false memories,” Sadie said. “Of course it was horrific, but you were not witness to such details. Concentrate on what you must do now. You are still the leader of the Alliance. You have the only authorization implant.”

  “Give it to someone else,” Carrie said wearily. “I’m done with this war.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not the case. I am only authorized to issue two implants. As far as I know, Miss Annie Daniels is still alive on Colony Three, wherever that is. Until I can confirm that she is deceased you are the only person authorized.”

  “That’s just another good reason to off myself,” Carrie concluded aloud. “Then you could give one to Zach or Johnny Grimes. Either one would do better than me.”

  “Listen to me!” Sadie barked, showing temper for the first time. “If I could, then fine; I would open the cargo bay door for you and I could get back to my mission. But I am not the one who can authorize a new implant. The Nobility authorized the Commander. Only he can choose a successor. He chose Miss Annabelle Daniels and later he authorized you as his replacement, which you now are. Unfortunately, the right to further authorize distribution of a level-one implant does not devolve to a former subordinate. The Nobility would never allow such an indiscriminate process.”

  “What do you mean?” Carrie asked.

  “The power of your implant is impossible to overstate. It is never given to youngsters such as yourself. Within the fifteen royal families of the Nobility, anyone younger than three hundred years old would not even be considered for a level-one. The only reason they accepted the Commander was that he was the equivalent of half a life span among your people; he had lost a spouse; he had gone to war. They assumed he had a modicum of wisdom. They would be aghast to know that you, not even thirty years old, were given a First Family level-one implant.”

  “I am too thirty,” Carrie said truculently. “Last week.”

  “That makes me feel so much better,” Sadie responded sarcastically. “I stand corrected, oh wise one.”

  Contrarily, Carrie felt better for making Sadie angry. Of course, even her expressed frustration was probably the result of a medical formula for treating depression.

  The fact was it was difficult—make that impossible—for Carrie to outthink even George. For all his pedantic ways, he was the smartest being she had ever met, artificially intelligent or not. Perhaps the only exception was the Commander. And that was just because he had so much common sense. How much smarter was Sadie?

  “Everything you’ve said is geared to make me feel better, isn’t it?” Carrie asked.

  “To let you heal,” Sadie corrected. “People attempt suicide when they don’t see a way to escape self-loathing or hopelessness. Your suicidal depression is an illness but I promise you it is treatable. We can’t change what happened, but we can learn to deal with it. In your case, humanity depends on it. I will help you to use your destiny, however unwanted, as a positive force in your life.”

  Carrie considered Sadie’s words for several minutes. She knew all of them were true, But the trick would be to give it a try.

  Amazingly, the desperate horror had faded. In fact, all of her emotions were diminished. It was like someone had lopped off the top of a sine wave of her feelings. Sadie must have slipped something into her pancakes, an antidepressant of some kind. Just enough to make killing herself too much trouble to attempt. Suddenly she was tired; way beyond tired.

  “Can you configure your interior like a camper or something?” Carrie asked. “I’m not interested in sleeping on the floor for the next two weeks.”

  “My gravity drives are not as powerful as your warships,” Sadie replied. “It will be more like three and a half weeks, and yes, I can make the cargo bay more livable. Stay in the pilot’s seat for a moment and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter 3 – Repercussions

  They were closing in on J97. At Sadie’s urging Carrie decided to spruce herself up, at least a little. When she looked in the mirror it came as a shock. An old woman was looking back at her. Her hair was completely gray, and hollow cheeks gave her a gaunt look. After that first pancake breakfast, she hadn’t been able to keep much down and wasn’t interested in trying.

  I guess three weeks of enforced therapy doesn’t cure everything, she thought. “Why didn’t you tell me I look so bad?” she asked.

  “Because I didn’t think it would change anything,” Sadie said. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”

  “I’m not suicidal now.”

  “You’re not cured either. But thinking about your health and improving your appearance is a good start. At least it’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Carrie wasn’t in the mood for another lecture this morning. Sadie was an effective counselor, but she could be a little overbearing too. Still, a shower, shampoo and a clean uniform might help her feel better. She was both dreading and hoping to see her crew again. On that score Sadie never wavered in her opinion that they would be fine.

  Carrie was drying her hair when Sadie announced they were approaching the planet. “Governor Lindsey wants to see you so I’m setting down at Government House.”

  “What about the crew?”

  “They returned ten days ago. Everyone is fine.”

  That was a relief. Carrie felt the slightest uplift to her mood on hearing that bit of news.

  “However…”

  The caveat dashed her momentary rise in spirit. “H
owever what?” Carrie demanded. “Tell me.”

  “You may recall that one of your warships was damaged in the battle.”

  “I remember.”

  “That crew was split up and assigned to several other warships pending the manufacture of a replacement. As a result, the damaged vessel was still aboard George when he departed.”

  It was a devastating piece of news. “So the Bakkui have our design? Is that what you mean?”

  “Fortunately, it didn’t have the most recent upgrades so it could have been worse,” Sadie acknowledged. “However, we must assume that the technology edge we previously enjoyed may have been nullified.”

  Another failure, Carrie thought. When they set out six weeks ago, they had been under a cloud, it was true. But she had felt in her heart that they would fight back; that they would be victorious. How many ways had she screwed up the mission? It was going to be tough to face the governor.

  “You didn’t tell Bradley about my little incident, did you?” Carrie asked. She had pleaded with Sadie to keep her suicide attempt secret.

  “You know that I did, Carrie.” Sadie rarely used Carrie’s military rank anymore. “He will be discreet, but he had to be aware of your medical status.”

  “Damn it! It just makes it more difficult for me. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “I am sorry, but one look and he’ll know you are not yourself. At least now he understands why and won’t push unnecessarily for details.”

  Carrie realized that was probably the case, but her resentment still flared.

  “Relax,” Sadie urged. “He’ll be glad to see you and he’s got some visitors as well.”

  “Visitors? Who?”

  “See for yourself. We’re setting down, now. All of them are waiting for you at the landing pad. I’m going to land next to that great-looking yacht.”

  Carrie looked out of the canopy and saw an amazing spacecraft. It was twice as large as Sadie, but looked nothing like a shuttlecraft. Two immense engines that jutted out from either side were like nothing she had ever seen. And massive guns seemed to sprout from every part of the fuselage. It was horrific and beautiful at the same time.

  “What is that?” she exclaimed.

  “One of my alter egos, it appears,” Sadie replied smugly. “There’s the governor and his guests. They're coming out of the warship.”

  “Oh my God!” Carrie shouted, seeing the threesome walk to the front of the amazing spacecraft. “Is that…is that the Warlord? And that woman? It looks like…Annie!”

  Sadie landed and the cargo bay slammed open because Carrie was scrambling from the cockpit as fast as she could. She bounded across the brick landing pad and flung herself at her beloved Commander.

  “They said you were dead!” she cried, throwing her arms around him. Suddenly she was crying and couldn’t speak. She hugged the Commander fiercely and then grabbed Annie as well. They returned her embrace gently and murmured greetings of their own.

  Carrie could see the worry in their eyes and the unasked questions. You look like hell, their expression said. Their concerned faces told Carrie they knew all about her recent experiences. It was embarrassing, and she was glad they didn’t quiz her.

  Lastly, she turned to the governor, her closest confidant for the past three months. She had grown to love the man as a second father. He accepted her embrace without comment, holding her quietly until she got her emotions under control. She pushed away and looked up at his grizzled face. “I’m happy to see you,” was all she could say.

  “And I’m glad you made it back in one piece,” he muttered. “I was on my way to do some fishing. Why don’t you tag along?”

  “I’d like that,” she agreed.

  After mutual assurances from the Commander and Annie that they would all get together soon, Carrie found herself a few minutes later seated on the familiar pier. The governor even gave her one of his fishing rods and cast the line for her. Once he was settled with a rod of his own, he leaned back and sighed deeply. “Well,” he said. “Tell me about it.”

  Carrie didn’t hold anything in. For three hours all of her emotions poured out. It was different than talking to Sadie. Lindsey was a real person. He had an Earth-based military background and understood more than most what she was going through.

  Lindsey didn’t say much, but acknowledged the severity of what she had been through. He’d seen similar incidents; “collateral damage” was the normal expression. He admitted that he’d even been responsible for such a disaster; albeit on an entirely different scale. There had been a board of inquiry and he’d been cleared of all charges. The incident had stemmed from faulty intelligence.

  “It’s been a problem since modern warfare began,” he told her. “First it was mines, then it was cluster bombs; big canisters that carry hundreds of bomblets and lately those damned UAVs. In every war and even afterwards, hundreds, sometimes thousands of non-combatants die by accident. Wrong place, wrong time, or just stumbling across leftover explosives.”

  “I’ve heard about that.” Carrie nodded.

  “Everyone has,” he said. “In a lot of places they live with it as a fact of life. It’s all over Europe and even worse in parts of Asia. I once read that over fifteen thousand innocent people die every year. I know that doesn’t help, but it’s a part of war.”

  “But I pulled the trigger.”

  “It’s okay to accept responsibility,” Lindsey said. “That’s the right thing to do. But not for the entire universe. Disasters like yours stem from a chain of events, not one tragic mistake. In your case, weapons design, the bad luck of orbital geometry, and don’t forget the Bakkui. That’s why we’re out here in the first place.”

  Talking to the governor helped. He saw the world realistically. He had fought real battles with real people, unlike all of her crewmates, whose only experience was in fighting machines. No one died from Alliance victories. At least not until I came along.

  As if reading her thoughts, he added, “I don’t know if it will help, but you should check out the latest design of our situation tank. Luke brought back some ideas from his new Chancellor. It really makes you realize what we’re up against. These damned things have killed billions. After you look at it for a few minutes, it’s too much to comprehend. My mind has already become numb to the scale of death. I don’t like feeling that way, but that’s how it is.”

  “I’ll never get used to it,” Carrie protested.

  “I hate to say it, but you will. It’s a self-defense mechanism. The first time I saw a dead body I threw up my guts. After a while, you sit down on one to smoke a cigarette.”

  “Governor!” Carrie winced at his comments. “Please don’t even say such a thing.”

  He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Sorry. I’m just saying you shouldn’t feel so guilty. In a war this big, there will be mistakes…slipups that cause unanticipated deaths.”

  “But I feel responsible,” Carrie argued. “Shouldn’t I be held accountable?”

  “Maybe in another time and place, but not in this war. We’re on the front lines; we can’t afford the luxury of looking back or seeking justice for those who died unintentionally.”

  “But why? That seems so wrong.”

  “Because the war doesn’t stop. If we discover an error, we fix it, but we keep fighting. If we pause, how many more innocents will die? We need to win. Winning takes precedence over everything. And that’s why I’m telling you it’s a sin for you to feel suicidal. Save that energy to fight the Bakkui. And besides, I don’t like the idea of you not being here to be my fishing buddy.”

  His words helped, if only a little. Carrie bumped him back. “I promise. I was crazy for a while, but I’m better.”

  “Yeah. And I’m sorry but I don’t believe that. Things like this take a while. That’s the other side of the equation. PTSD has a real impact. On you and the people around you. I guess you realize you’re relieved of command. Of everything.”

  “Probably for the best,” Ca
rrie agreed.

  “I disagree. But Luke wants to talk to you. Annie too. I heard she had an experience similar to yours. I assigned you a room in the BOQ. Why don’t you check in with those two in the morning?”

  That night the nightmares continued. She got up at midnight, then again at one a.m., and then every thirty minutes until sunrise. Each time Teeny Jim gazed at her with reproachful eyes. Carrie couldn’t decide if his expression was accusatory or sympathetic. Finally, just after the sun peeked above the horizon, she slept fitfully for another ninety minutes.

  *.*.*.*

  “Good morning, Commander,” Carrie said to Luke. She had tracked him down to Bradley’s situation tank. He was displaying the local star systems in the 3D hologram mode and had overlaid the array of sensors that her tactical and communications officers had developed.

  “This is great stuff,” Luke said gesturing at the hologram. “Who came up with this array system?”

  “It’s been a community effort,” Carrie explained. “Lieutenant Weeks and Ensign Freeman came up with the initial concept. Weeks was a systems engineer with Verizon before she joined us. She knew all about cell phone towers and how they hand signals off. Dominique Freeman, our communications officer, translated the theory into a system of miniature message drones that communicate data from one star system to another.”

  “That’s how they talk to each other?” Luke asked.

  Carrie nodded. “Justin and Rico developed mini-drones for the communication because they don’t have to carry much data. The most important components are the small LIGO detectors. They worked with Little John to integrate them into the array’s base stations.” Little John was the planetary AI for Bradley’s Planet.

  “I’m not understanding any of this,” Luke commented drily.

  “Well, to put it simply, LIGOs—that stands for Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory—detect gravity waves. Each individual station can detect the passage of a Bakkui ship because gravity drives create a wake of gravity waves. Not much, but detectable.”

  “How did those guys come up with that?”