Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree)

by Marshall S. Thomas

  "Delta, Prophet. Anybody survive?"

  "This is great, Delta," Doggie said. "Now we've got better cover. They'll never get us outta here. Count off! Prof, you here?"

  "Prof is here. This is wonderful! The building did not collapse. It fell in on itself, but these giant stone blocks are mostly intact. You can't hurt them! This is an ideal fortress!"

  "Two – Scout – you all right?" Doggie asked.

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Digging out."

  "Ahhh-yah! Three, sound off!"

  "Saka is here."

  "Four! Let's hear it!"

  "Four! I'm here!" Ice said. "I'm kinda buried. Give me a mo."

  "Yeah, this is Five," Smiley said. "I'm kind of buried as well. I'll let you know if I need help."

  "We need everybody to take a position near whatever wall is closest. Ahhh! They're advancing. Oh God! Bees, Bees."

  "Bees is here."

  "I hate to bother you, Bees, but I'm blacking out," Doggie said. "Scout, take charge. Bees, I think I've lost a leg. Please…"

  "I'm coming!" Bees replied. "Hold on!"

  "Delta, resume the count!" Scout demanded. "Prophet, Nitro, are you there?"

  "Prophet is here. I'm on the west wall and firing." Doggie was down! Damn it!

  "Nitro is here. I found an opening and I'm covering the east – love the lightning! They're coming at us."

  "I'll cover north," Scout said. "Willow, you – somebody telepath to Willow to confirm he is covering the south."

  "Scout, Ice. Willow is covering the south. He's firing now."

  "Delta, alert!" I called out. "They're almost on us, a bloody wave attack, cut 'em down!" Lightning bolts were cracking all around my position, blinding and deafening me, blasting with terrific force against the giant artificial stone blocks that surrounded me. Doggie was right, this pile of rubble made a damned fine defensive position. I knew I should move my position because they knew where I was but they were almost at the walls and there was no time. I continued firing lightning bolts, and I watched as the eye-searing flashes illuminated the scene as the bolts tore those Darks into pieces, armor and all. Meantime their bolts were crashing against the rubble that surrounded me. A scythe through grain, I thought. May God's will be done. Here is where I die, I thought. But I don't care. I kept firing – like a god, I thought. A Legion god, wielding this mighty weapon, casting lightning into the foe. Doing God's will. Leaving the field covered with dead. Come on, Darks, step right up and die. I'm only a human. What are you afraid of?

  "Delta, Prophet. I've got a name for our fortress."

  "Let's hear it, Prophet," Scout said.

  "Rockpile One," I replied.

  "I like it," the Prof said. "Rockpile One it is."

  Δ

  "They're pulling back," Scout announced. "Too many casualties, likely. But they'll be back. Everybody into new positions, right now. Snuggle up to the rocks real close and set up good fields of fire."

  It was true, the fools were no longer throwing themselves at me. They had slunk away, leaving a junkyard of shredded smoking armor and blackened corpses. I crawled through the rubble to find a new position.

  "How's Doggie?" Smiley asked.

  "Doggie is stable," the Prof replied. "Bees has sealed the wound. He'll be all right. Look to our defenses, Delta. You people are magnificent. I am so proud to be associated with you all, Delta. Now we are going to hold this position no matter what they throw at us. Do whatever Scout says. Saka, if anything happens to Scout you take tactical command."

  "Yes sir!" Saka responded.

  I found another good killing spot and settled in. I was likely in permanent shock by then, my adrenalin just frozen in my veins. I snuggled up against the rock, just like Scout suggested. No – they were not going to blast us out of here, I vowed. Never!

  "Delta, check out the eyemote view of our fortress roof." Scout said. I activated the view on to my visor. It showed a tall twisted vertical metal pole sticking up from the very highest point of our massive rubble pile. The black flag of the Legion was flapping boldly at the tip of the pole, as another series of missiles fell down onto our position, the flashes illuminating the silvery Legion cross coldly burning against a black field. I was thrilled to see it. I knew it was Doggie's flag. He always carried one in his ratpack. So – now the bastards knew who they were dealing with. Welcome to ConFree! This was now officially ours, our rubble pile, Rockpile One, and if anyone wanted it back they were going to have to fight for it.

  They rallied. They re-formed. They dropped more artillery on our heads. The fortress shifted, and settled. No matter. We stayed close to the walls, fought our way to new positions, and resumed firing. Now it was Demons, coming at us in ragged waves, seemingly fearless, firing auto x and laser because their plasma didn't work. We slashed them with lightning bolts and chainlink tacstars and canister darts and auto x and lasers, and they exploded into bloody shreds before our eyes.

  A brief pause. More missiles, tacstars, battering at us again. Screw you, Satan. We eat tacstars for breakfast! And suddenly I heard music – a powerful lektra beat, amplified, thumping away like a mighty heartbeat, and a clear lovely female voice, Tina Tan, her voice rolling over the battlefield just like a songbird.

  "Love love love, waiting for news from you

  Tears tears tears, waiting for news from you

  My lovely soldier boy

  Come home to me

  Come home to me

  I think of you all day

  I dream of you all night

  Wet pillows, for you

  Cold tea, for you

  I am lost

  I am lost

  Love love love, waiting for news from you

  Tears tears tears, waiting for news from you

  Come home to me

  Come home to me

  My lovely soldier boy."

  I knew that was Smiley's doing. Soldier Boy – the damned thing brought tears to my eyes. I thought of Honeyhair. She was why I fought. More Demons were forming up and charging right at us. Maniacs! I blasted them with auto lightning. Die, you bastards! Die die die! And spiral right into Hell!

  Δ

  The next wave of missiles appeared suddenly on our tacmaps and they filled the air, whipping along just under the cavern roof, coming right at us. It looked like a tremendous barrage. We were unlikely to survive this one.

  "Stand by for missile barrage!" Scout shouted.

  The missiles shot overhead and impacted in the enemy's positions. Tactars and antimats shook the entire cavern, a blinding, ear-splitting holocaust, more and more and more missiles hitting right into the Dark lines, surrounding our battered rubble-pile with a blazing circle of utter destruction. We watched in stupefied fascination.

  A strange, solitary little white air-effects craft appeared, shot past us and started blasting tacstars into the burning devastation. It was an airsled, made for combat, just large enough for a single Bright trooper to lay chest-down on it, guiding it with ease while erasing Dark troopers with one finger. More of the airsleds appeared, firing into the Dark positions. Then even more of them. Some of them had two to four extra Bright troopers barely hanging on to the edges. They hopped off when they got in our vicinity, then moved towards the Dark lines on foot, firing lightning as they went. Some of the drivers abandoned their airsleds as well, letting them drift around aimlessly while they set out to personally kill some Darks.

  Rockpile One was soon surrounded by airsleds and armored Bright troopers, running to get at any Dark or Demon that might still be alive. We surfaced from our holes and hidey-spaces and staggered out into the dark that was now lit by Bright spotlights and glittering flares floating overhead.

  Black Angel, Breakblade. Where are you?

  Breakblade! Praise God! We are here! Breakblade suddenly appeared with a gang of heavily armed Bright knights. They were covered with ash and dirt and blood and gore. So were we. Bees and the Prof and the rest of Delta gathered around. Our A-suits were caked with rock dust that m
ade us look like a bunch of recently unearthed statues from some town that had been buried in a volcanic eruption. Some of us had blood on our armor as well. Bees was covered with it.

  Our thanks, General, Breakblade telepathed. I can see you have been busy. He was looking around the battlefield. Rockpile One was completely surrounded by an awful junkyard of shattered armor, Demon and Dark, torn, blackened, still smoking, partially encasing black blistered corpses still running red with blood. There must have been hundreds of them.

  Martial, we have one wounded who has lost a leg, Bees telepathed. Can you evac him and treat his wounds? Arie and Smiley hauled Doggie over in a sleeping bag modified for carrying wounded. Doggie's helmet was off and he appeared to be unconscious. His left leg had been shot off below the knee and the armor was twisted and blasted white – presumably by a tacstar. The armor and the wound were crudely patched up with sealant and medgel.

  Where is his leg?

  We couldn't find it.

  No matter. Evac! We'll fix him up, don't worry. A couple of Bright knights rushed over with an airsled and gently laid Doggie in it on his back. They started to walk off with the airsled when Breakblade stopped them. One moment. General, I have reported a victory to Morning Star in Zero Alpha Fourteen. It is clear we have a victory here, too.

  Yes, we do. The Prof was trying out his telepathy.

  You blocked the route to Fourteen, and prevented the enemy from receiving vital reinforcements. That brought us victory.

  I am glad to hear it.

  How did you do this?

  We did it with the help of your brave knight Willow, the Prof telepathed. Without his help, we would not have succeeded.

  Willow appeared and went to his knees before Martial Breakblade. I have failed you, sir, he telepathed. I have failed God. I was not able to teleport. I report failure. I am willing to make the ultimate journey.

  Breakblade ignored him. He was looking around again, at that awful tangle of dead Demons and Darks. And I could hear his thoughts. Like ocean waves, he thought. They broke against you like ocean waves. And you held – against all odds. He moved over to Doggie's airsled. A gleaming sword suddenly appeared in one hand. He brought the blade down gently to touch the unconscious Doggie on his right shoulder, left shoulder, top of the head.

  Be thou a knight, Breakblade said, Sir Doggie. In the name of God, of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. You have been chosen by God, Sir Knight. Go forth and defend the faith and protect the innocent and fight the evil. He nodded to the two Bright knights standing by Doggie's airsled and they pulled the airsled away.

  Bring all your holy warriors, Delta. Bring them here, to me. Kneel before God!

  We did so. We were all knighted, all of Delta, starting with the Prof, then Scout, then Saka, then Ice, then me, then Arie, then Smiley.

  I was stunned and silent, kneeling there in that burning field of obscene corpses, when Breakblade knighted me. Be thou a knight, he said, touching me with the sword. In the name of God, of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Arise, Sir Knight. You have been chosen by God. Your war name is Prophet. Go forth and defend the faith and protect the innocent and fight the evil.

  Δ

  Whatever the ultimate journey was, it turned out that Willow did not have to make it. Delta's stand at Rockpile One had evidently impressed Breakblade greatly so Willow was forgiven his failure to teleport. I imagine they sent him back to Teleport 101.

  Prepare your troops to move out, General, Breakblade telepathed to Prof. We have a perilous journey ahead of us, and many more enemies to confront. We have landed heavy reinforcements at Eleven, and we are going to attack the enemy at upper levels after we secure our objectives down here. I have arranged for all Delta knights to receive Lightning Bolt battle weapons. You clearly know how to use them. Please report to the weapons car.

  As I stood in line for my new Bright Battlestorm I noted a crudely scrawled sign on a piece of shattered white wood mounted on a little metal pole, right in the middle of that junkyard of scorched and bloody enemy armor. It looked like it was written in blood:

  I recognized Smiley's increasingly grim sense of humor.

  Δ

  The attack into Industrial Zone Seven was – well – thorough, I guess you could call it. Now that the Darks had been repulsed in Zero Alpha Fourteen, Battle Group Morning Star was pouring more reinforcements and ordnance into Fourteen and on to Industrial Sectors Nine and Seven. More giant plasma drill bunker-buster assault ships were cutting their way down into both ZAs Eleven and Fourteen and disgorging fresh waves of adrenalin-charged young Bright White Knights with all they needed to waste God's enemies. Industrial Zone Seven had been pretty much untouched by the conflict so far but that was about to change. It was all blacked out of course, but the eyemotes showed there were still plenty of enemy troops there, running around frantically like ants in a recently disturbed nest.

  We waited with hundreds of Bright Knights while a staggering number of tacstar and antimat missiles shot over our heads, just under the cavern roof, snarling and crackling, to penetrate IZ Seven. When they began to impact, the total dark turned to total light, a searing white glow flickering on my faceplate. The noise was deafening as all that ordnance went off and many, many major secondaries sounded off as the Dark war supplies started to go off. The idea was to turn all of IZ Seven into an extension of Hell. Only then were we to march in and finish off the survivors.

  "Take five, guys," Scout said. He did not sound the least bit concerned.

  "Delta, I wish to express my thanks for your actions at the Rockpile," the Prof said over the net. "You are all heroes. And we all survived. Don’t say there are no such things as miracles."

  "Dear God," Bees said. "We express our humble gratitude and eternal thanks for allowing us to survive and triumph against Satan and his evil minions. We pledge to continue the good fight in Your name, and never hesitate, never pause, and never compromise with evil. We are not afraid of Satan because we know Your holy hands are on us always, and our faith is lighting the way. We will walk the road of God, always. May God's will be done, Amen."

  I thought about Doggie. I felt a great relief that he was all right and that the Brights were taking care of him. He, at least, would survive this lunatic war. Our pet wolf Blackie had made every effort to accompany him, but the Brights would not let him do so. Now he was by Scout's side. It was almost as if he knew about the change in tactical command. We all took good care of Blackie, making sure he had water and food during the brief pause waiting for the artillery barrage to cease.

  "You all right, Prophet?" Ice asked. She was standing right beside me. She had raised her visor to snack on some rations.

  "I'm fine," I said. "How's the weather out there?"

  "It's damned hot, and getting hotter. The air filtration and cooling systems are evidently down. And we're entering the active volcanic zone. Prophet, I want you to promise not to do anything else crazy, like when you ran through that minefield."

  "Sorry, Ice, I can't promise that."

  "What the hell is the matter with you? Don't you want to see Honeyhair again?"

  "Yes. Yes, I do."

  "Well, then, stop acting crazy!" Ice seemed genuinely angry over it.

  "Delta," the Prof said. "I'd like to give you a little brief on where we're heading, and why. Industrial Zone Seven, our target, has numerous large personnel and freight elevators that lead up to Level Two, which is known as the intermediate level. Right now we're in sublevels, the lowest level. The immediate mission is to clear and seize IZ Seven, then secure and exploit those elevators to move our troops up to Staging Zone Forty-four in Level Two, which is full of enemy troops bound for Level One, where the major battles of this campaign are taking place. The more hell we raise down here, the less opposition our troops will be facing on Level One. That's the big picture. We will remain attached to Breakblade's Task Force Glory. Our host is still seeking his fate."

  I touched the wooden cro
ss that hung around my neck over my armor. Would God really protect me? I doubted it. Even if he was real, he had more important things to do than take care of me. Besides, I'd made a deal – with God, with Deadman, whoever. My life for Delta's. Fine. Let it be so. How many Darks were in IZ Seven? Let's say ten thousand, maybe? Against ten – no, eight of us, now that Willow was back with his unit and Doggie was out of action. Ten thousand Darks, eight Deltas, and one wolf. Odds even. Now we attack!

  There was a titanic battle raging far above us, in the vac, on the surface, and in Level One. As Bright missiles shot over our heads and impacted into Industrial Zone Seven, I tuned in to Legion battle freqs.

  "Random scan, Honey, Legion and Fleetcom tacnets." My tacmod made the adjustment.

  "Scanning random Legion battlenets," Honey said.

  "Deadman! Get 'em, get 'em! They're right there!" A burst of auto x sounded in the background.

  "They're down! God, look at that!"

  "Gimme another tacstar!" A teeth-rattling screech sounded.

  "All right, Echo advance! Keep firing!"

  "Demons attacking from the south, note the zero," the bloodless voice emanated from a tacmod.

  "One, Four. I want to secure the captives. Can you hold off those Demons?" It was a female voice.

  "That will have to wait, Four. Target those D's right now! Five, auto tacstar those D's, now!"

  "Oh my God they're firing tacstars at the…oh!" The female voice again, Four. I could hear the tacstars going off.

  "Oh no no! The women, the kids! They're gone." Women? Kids? What the hell? What were they doing there? Dependents of the human mine workers?

  "Dead. Dead. All dead. Oh my God." Four was shattered.

  "All right, Echo. We have only one mission. Kill D's. Advance!"

  "Scanning random Legion battlenets." The freq changed. New voices.

  "Maintain positions for now, guys, keep firing." I could hear the firing, a staccato wave of auto x.

  "Deadman, looks like a whole CAT."

  "Tacstars, canister darts, auto xmax please."