“Ahead of schedule. If German had these in World War II it could have turned back the troops at Normandy. They are building, rather digging, the best defensive positions I’ve ever seen. I don’t care how many Molochs there are. I don’t see how those primitives can get through or, get over to be more precise, our canyons. They are a mile wide. No one can jump them and the Molochs don’t have an armored vehicle, and even an armored vehicle couldn’t get over. They would need aircraft and they don’t have any of those either. There’s no way they can fill in that hole, major. Our canyons are not as impressive as the Grand Canyon back in Arizona but they still will take your breath away. There are so wide and so deep I’m betting they can hold two million. It would make the perfect grave. All we’d have to do is fill in it.”
I nodded. I trusted Rab’s judgment but I still wasn’t feeling comfy. An uneasiness has been flying about me for days, like a hungry mosquito buzzing around looking for an opening.
“Anything new from the other continent? Any sign of life?”
Eric shook his head. “I’ve just seen the reports. There doesn’t appear to be anything moving over there. If there was a civilization there, there should be some trace of it. As far as we can tell, there are no remains. No sign of abandoned cities or deserted camps or bones. We’ve seen traces of underground cities here on the Aristolan land and, from what I’ve been told, in the desert on the continent below us. We don’t have the best scanners but the ones we do have don’t show anything much below the surface in the continent to the West of us. Some more sophisticated satellites might pick up something. But for now everything looks as peaceful and as dead as a graveyard.” He paused for a moment. “If there was a civilization there, I’m guessing they left long ago. They might have left machines, androids, robots or something like that. Our scanners usually search for human life. They might miss robots. But if being who built that civilization left, everything they created might be dead or dying by this time. Even robots can run down with age.”
“That’s true. Everyone is subject to corrosion and decay.” I said. “Except the Aristolans, I guess. Dalvros still seems to be going strong after seven thousand years.”
“Assuming he’s telling the truth.” Rab said.
I shrugged. “He seems like an honest man to me, although saying he has lived seven thousand years does raise a few credibility questions.”
“As for me, I’d like a medical examination to confirm that.” Rab said. “Not that I’m being cynical or anything like that.”
“When we leave the planet perhaps there will be time for one. It will be interesting to find out what the exam tells us about Dalvros and the rest of the Aristolans.”
“That can wait until we’re off planet. I don’t think you’re going to find any answers in the few days we have left on Vega.” Carmen said. “There are mysteries all over space. Vega has its share and it’s probably going to keep them.”
I nodded. Answering the puzzles of Vega could wait.
“Eric, I want you to load a few small or medium size bombs and drop them on the Molochs. I want to see what happens.”
“I’m guessing there will be a few loud booms, sir. Just a wild guess, you understand.”
“You’re fortunate I enjoy sarcasm from the troops. That’s one reason I think so highly of Carmen.”
“Thank you, sir, and I thought you were hypnotized by my merry smile.”
“It’s a toss-up.”
Five minutes later Tony and Carmen had gone back to their squads. I sat with Rab and watched the big screens as the jet took off. Captain Anders sat two tables away with a screen at his desk too. The jet flew steadily toward the Moloch camp, the sun reflecting off the gleaming silver metal. The jet flew a mile behind the camp, then made a big turn and headed back. A dozen black orbs dropped from the belly of the plane. They fell slowly, almost lazily, to the ground. A dozen black eggs against a blue sky and a golden day.
We couldn’t hear the explosions, but gigantic chunks of land splattered through the air. A few Molochs were also lifted, blown apart by the explosives. I spat with disgust. Arms and legs and hairy Moloch heads shot up like a geyser from the ground. But there was no blood. No flesh either.
“Hellfire and blue blazes.” I said. “They’re not human. They’re not living. They’re artificial!”
“Impossible, sir.” Anders said. “Our computers read heat from them, read living beings.”
“Our computers were wrong. If they’re not human, our mist is useless. How could I have been so stupid?”
“We tend to trust computers, sir. They’ve always been very reliable.”
“Not in this case.”
I turned to Rab. I need our low-yield atomic bombs loaded in our jets and I need them now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Several hundred of the Molochs had been destroyed. When wounded they didn’t continue functioning. They just quit. Several had hands or feet blown off, but they didn’t crawl or, of course, yell. They just dropped to the ground and didn’t move. They had plenty of reservers. They didn’t have to use the wounded. They looked so realistic. The epitome of a savage, sub-human tribe.
I shook my head. “It is time for an old Army expression.”
Rab gave me a one word reply.
“Yeap, that’s the one.”
This confirmed that there was definitely another race on Vega, a highly advanced intelligent race who did not want their underground chamber to be disturbed or revealed. The Molochs weren't born, they had been built. Built by individuals who had knowledge of advanced technology. Individuals who did not want to build a synthetic soldier who looked synthetic. No serene, stony android with a concrete face. No shifting adversary that could turn multiple colors to camouflage itself. The unknown and unnamed race wanted a collection of synthetics that looked like savages and gave off sentient allures that could fool the most highly sophisticated computers.
I would have asked why, but right then the question was almost academic. The mist was useless and I had to defend against two million Artificials who wanted human, or at least Aristolan, blood.
“Sir, the Molochs don’t seem to be bothered by the attack. They’re just walking around as usual.”
Which was true. Most of the Molochs hadn’t even looked toward the site of the explosions. They cared nothing about the fate of their comrades. Of course they wouldn’t. If you don’t have any emotions, you don’t care.
“That means they haven’t been given the order to charge yet. I’m thankful for the delay.”
Chapter 30
Gen. Custer sat at the round table with two of the highest ranking military officials of the Federation, Admiral Stefan Westphil and Lord Rembrandt Van Holden. Both had pedigrees that stretched back to the dawn of time. Both came from military families that, as far as Gen. Custer could tell, had members who had engaged in almost every battle in Europe or the United States during the last four centuries.
Van Holden had casually mentioned that one of his ancestors had fought with Wellington at Waterloo. Another ancestor had been with British troops when they had burned Washington in 1812. An American ancestor of Admiral Westphil had fought with the Union in the American Civil War. Other relatives had distinguished themselves in World War II and in such skirmishes as the Gulf War. The Muslim-Jihadi Wars of the mid-21st Century had claimed the lives of two ancestors of the men. The Man-Xulon wars had brought more medals to the families.
Westphil looked like he spent time in the gym. He was a barrel-chested man with a tan face. Heavy eyebrows gave him an odd appearance. For such a large man his voice was mild, and few people had ever seen him lose his temper.
Van Holder was thin as a toothpick, with an aquiline nose and chin. His voice, surprisingly, was lower than Westphil’s. He had surprised many others with the bass voice coming from such a slender man.
“So you believe this possible threat is real and should be taken seriously by the Federation?” Van Holder asked.
Gen. Cus
ter nodded. “I do. Although I don’t have many facts or a great deal of evidence to back up my belief. Even today sometimes we have to go by hunches and guesses. It’s not the best military strategy but sometimes it is necessary. And sometimes it works.”
“We have put all our forces on yellow alert.” Westphil said. “It’s always better to be safe than sorry. As military men we do not like surprises. And I particularly don’t want a surprise coming from the next galaxy over. Are you staking some of your belief on the credibility of Mr. Starret?”
“Yes, I believe his story. There is absolutely no reason for him to travel to a military base and lie. It would be a huge waste of his time. In addition, the consequences would be severe.”
“I had a lengthy interview with Mr. Starret and I tend to agree about his credibility.” Van Holden said. He smiled. “He is an immensely likeable chap, which adds to his credibility. I am aware of his reputation as something of a charming rogue and he certainly lives up to it... What he doesn’t have is a reputation for causing trouble.”
“There was that situation on Vandy where he killed a man.” Westphil said.
“Self-defense. I would have done the same as would you, Stefan.”
“I would have never gone to Vandy in the first place.”
“Probably good advice to stay away from Vandy but we are glad he knew the Crit with a conscience. The audio is not great but it’s good enough.”
Gen. Custer nodded. “The sound is fuzzy and so is the picture. But we can make out the images and some of the discussion has been transcribed but not translated yet. So unless the Crit faked it somehow, and I don’t see why he would, we have to consider it valid. That’s assuming we believe Starret’s story about a disloyal Crit. We’ve never had one before but I see no reason Starret would tell us a lie.”
“Like you, General, I don’t believe Starret faked it. While a rogue he is not one to cause trouble for himself. In addition, my reading of him is that he is a patriot. If he discovered a plot to invade Federation space I think he would come immediately to the authorities. Which is what he did.”
“I’m a little less enthusiastic about his character than you are, Rem.” Westphil said. “But I do agree his credibility is high, everything considered. The tapes are not high quality, but they do appear to be valid. However, as noted, we haven’t translated all the dialogue so we don’t know what the aliens are saying.”
“I have a hunch they were not commenting on real estate.” Custer said.
“We don’t have the dialogue but there are a few basic things that we do know. One, it was a meeting of three races, two from this galaxy and one from somewhere else. We have no information on the blind guy. Two, they were around a table with the Xulons and the Critterrans, two of the most violent, aggressive races in this galaxy. Two races that have been involved in wars with other races in the past. Three, knowing the background of the Xulons and the Critterrans, I doubt they are planning something good. If they are plotting, they are plotting invasions and attacks.”
“And we have no knowledge of the blind guy?” Van Holder asked.
“We don’t know who he is or where he comes from.”
“But he was the apparent leader of the group.” Van Holden said.
Custer nodded. “Yes, the other two gave deference to him. He must have the largest army. He also came with bodyguards so he may not trust his new-found friends.”
“Blind. Both he and his bodyguards. Blind.” Van Holden shook his head. “Very intriguing. A race of the blind. Never heard of that before.”
“Their race had to have sight at some time.” Custer pointed out. “Those laser gadgets on their eyes were incredibly sophisticated and allow them to see.”
“I’d like to see the hologram again of the attacking forces.” Van Holden said. “I realize there is not extensive detail there, but one more look wouldn’t hurt.”
Custer nodded again and pushed a button. The hologram popped into view. The Black Ships soared across the galaxy boundary and incinerated planets. They devastated planetary defensive forces. The defending jets and vessels went down in flames or were annihilated. Fires covered entire planets, leaving only ashes in space. Van Holder studied one segment of the hologram. An alien shot fired and half a continent exploded. The planet wobbled and wavered in its orbit, gradually drifting toward its sun. The gigantic explosion destroyed the atmosphere of the planet. The residents would be long dead before their planet experienced a fiery, sunny death.
“Do you think our adversaries have such firepower?” Westphil asked.
“We better assume so.” Custer answered. “The hologram, I’m guessing, shows the full power of their armaments. When we run holograms we don’t exaggerate our strengths nor play down our weakness. Our holograms show what our weapons can do. I see no reason why the aliens would insert fiction into their war holograms.”
“Maybe the blind guy was showing off to his friends.” Van Holden suggested. “Flexing his muscles and claiming more power than he actually has. Nations and planets have been known to boast of military power they don’t really have.”
“But the blind guy doesn’t look like a bluffer to me.” Custer said. “Don’t think he’d do well at poker.”
“No, I don’t see him as a bluffer either.” Westphil said. “I think we have to assume the worst. The hologram reflects the military might of the blind guy and his world or his solar system or whatever he has behind him. Perhaps he has his own Federation behind him ready to attack. The Critts and the Xulons are savage fighters. When they go into battle there are no rules of war. They wipe out everything alive. But they are not as scientifically advanced as many other races in our galaxy. We’ve kept them at bay due to our superior weapons and superior soldiers. Those two races could not attempt such an invasion alone. They don’t have the firepower and the other races in this galaxy outnumber them.”
“But some ignore them. Many governments didn’t care when the Xulons invaded Rendow. We had about six allies when we fought to free the planet and kick the Xulons off.” Van Holden said.
“True, we had a semi-unified front. But my point is that the two races we know would not have the science or the weaponry to attempt such an invasion. Most of the military technology and the soldiers would have to be provided by the blind guy and his cohorts.”
“Shouldn’t we call him something besides 'the blind guy'?” Custer said.
Westphil shrugged. “We don’t know anything about him or his race. I don’t know what else to call him.”
“Amabo” Custer said. “The Tertullan word for a slime creature. Better than calling him 'blind guy'.”
“Fine with me.” Westphil said. “Amabo it is.”
“Let’s see the holograph once again.”
The three watched silently as the invasion played out five feet above the table where they sat. Gen. Custer walked to the portable bar and grabbed three glasses. He placed them on the table then poured wine into them.
“Thought you might like a little refreshment. We’re at the edge of the galaxy but we get ships coming in from all the civilized worlds. And civilized worlds, thankfully, have fine wine. I hope you will like this.”
Van Holder sipped some of the red wine. “Excellent, General. You have exquisite taste in wine.”
“I hope my military skills are just as good.”
“There is one thing that puzzles me about the hologram.” Westphil said. “The invaders attack and destroy every planet in their path except Vega. Vega is in their path but they bypass it. They don’t bomb it or invade or even land ships there. Every other planet they destroy.”
Gen Custer shrugged. “There’s not much there on Vega. Maybe the invaders figured it’s not worth wasting ammunition on it. No one in this Federation has paid much attention to it. Maybe the invaders won’t either.”
Deadly Voyage (Logan Ryvenbark's Saga Book 1) Page 20