Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree)
Page 44
We have one more Delta blood brother still assigned to Vulcan: Bird has been with the Andraste air wing and was in the thick of the action. He has survived, I am happy to report, and he will be returning to us as soon as I can arrange it. We need his talents badly, but so does everybody else. Bird's wife Mary is also in the war zone, assigned as a nurse to the battlestar Andrion Deep. We are all giving all we can.
Bees is currently on the CS Atom's Will, deployed around Vulcan. This is not the right channel to discuss our beloved Bees, or what she is doing there, but I can assure you that I am doing my level best to return her to her home unit. She is one popular girl, but I plan to use all my influence to recover her. I am also going to be reaching out to you two, Prophet and Nitro, to bring you home, hopefully before everybody else finds out where you are hiding. You have no idea how many fans you have. I thought it quite clever of you two to disappear like that, but now it's time to come home, and rejoin our little band of brothers and sisters. We have some very promising new projects.
I send you both eternal love, Prof.
Hey Prophet, Nitro. You maniacs! It’s Ice. Love you forever! Stay safe! Ice.
Hi guys, it's Saka. We miss you. Come home when you can. Blackie is fine, he's barking up a storm. He misses you too. Yeah, love from me too.
UNCLASS PERS ST 1230036127 END.
"I am so relieved," I confessed. "I thought it was bad news."
"That's all good news," Arie replied. "Everybody's all right, and we're all going to be returning to Delta. Man!"
"See? It's all going to work out. And Honeyhair and Blondie won’t be there forever."
'Yeah." Arie seemed depressed. Very depressed.
"All right, what’s the matter?" I asked.
"I don’t know. That guy. The guy I shot. Why do they do that? Why do they always do that?"
"Do what?"
'They think they rule the world. Those big guys. Just 'cause I'm not as tall as they are, they think I'm inferior. A little runt, a little kid, a little coward, with no balls. Not just a coward, but a little coward. As if the words belong together. Well, I don't let anybody get away with that. Normally I just kick them in the face, to show them they're wrong, but this time…well, I don't regret it. But it was so unnecessary. He did that. It's all on him."
"Don't worry about it, Arie. He was going to be executed anyway. You just moved up the date a bit. Saved the taxpayers some money. You saw how concerned Crash was about it – 'Carry on,' he said."
"Oh, I'm not worried. Not a bit. Just – a bit depressed. What do you think, maybe I should wear a warning sign."
"What would it say?"
"Let's see, how about: Do not joke about my height or I will kill you."
"No, it should just say: DANGER, NITRO. That'll do it."
Δ
The day before we left Angaroth, ConFree gave the locals back their independence. Arie and I watched the proceedings in the Unity Coliseum, which we had renamed the Freedom Coliseum. It was a bright sunny day. We were in the bleachers, in camfax, with a great crowd of Legion and assorted ConFree civilian officials. The place was packed with local civilians, thousands of them, and thousands more surrounded the stadium outside. We had phalanxes of A-suited Legion troopers surrounding the great presentation area, as if to demonstrate that this was all our doing. Then the local police militia marched in, smartly dressed and armed with Commune battle rifles, sparking thunderous applause. Then the new government appeared, about forty of them, all clad in grey uniforms. Grey was the symbol of the secret resistance and even though there had not been much of a resistance the crowd went wild seeing that. Everyone stood and applauded and shouted, and did not stop applauding until the provisional president calmed them down and made the introductions. As each new government official was introduced the applause resumed, rolling over the stadium. My red dotter, Medwyn Gramin, was introduced as provisional Minister of Interior. A small delegation of black-suited Legion officers was also on the stage, but they kept quiet. This was Angaroth's rebirth. We may have been responsible for it, but this was their day, not ours.
"Tyranny is dead!" the new president exclaimed. The audience went crazy again, an ear-splitting crescendo. "Your new government is composed of dangerous subversives who dared to commit treason against the party to liberate our people, to free the slaves and tear down the arrogant corrupt genocidal criminal gang who oppressed us all and brought us into an insane war against the rest of the galaxy. Most of those so-called subversives are dead. We honor them! We who survived will never let this happen again! The state is the enemy of the people! Now we have constructed a constitution that will guarantee that the state will be the slave of the people, not the other way around. You, the people, will choose the future. If the state ever again threatens the people, overthrow it!" More deafening applause.
"You the people are the future. Under our new government you have rights and responsibilities. If you want to participate in the birth of a new, free Angaroth, join us! There's a lot of work to be done. Now, we must face facts. We could never have overthrown the slave state without help from the Confederation of Free Worlds. Our armies tragically clashed on Vulcan, and many were killed on both sides. But ConFree is true to its word. They gave us advice on forming a new government, but it was we who did it. And now they will be leaving – as they promised. The representative of the Confederation of Free Worlds has asked to address you. General Wallace."
The general was clad in formal black. He moved up to the podium. The audience was silent. "Greetings to the people of Angaroth from the people of the Confederation of Free Worlds. We applaud your liberation and your rebirth as a free state. We hold no ill will to Angaroth over the actions of the former regime. You are now free men and women and we welcome Angaroth to the galactic community of free nations. We congratulate you on your independence. May God be with you." Then he stepped back. There was a moment of stunned silence, as if the audience had expected him to go on for quite awhile. Then the applause began, and grew. A short speech is always popular.
"The moment of independence is at hand!" the president said. "Let us raise the flag." And to the tune of "The Black March", the flag of ConFree was slowly and ceremoniously lowered from the huge flagpole that seemingly grew right out of the podium. Three Legion soldiers received it and carefully folded it up. Then several local militia attached Angaroth's new flag and it slowly rose up the flagpole to the tune of the new Angaroth national anthem. When it reached the top, the crowd went completely mad, screaming, shouting, throwing hats in the air, applauding madly, jumping up and down. The stadium shook. The new government officials embraced each other, ecstatic. Some of them were actually crying with joy.
'Think it will work out, Prophet? Or will it morph into a dictatorship in a couple of months?"
"I don’t know, Arie. I sure don’t know, but I wish them the best. And if they follow our guidelines, it might really work out. Dangerous subversives – and now they're in charge. They must be tough people. I'd bet they don't want to relive the past. But I guess we'll see."
Δ
The Confederation Ship Infinity was a lovely ship. It was a star carrier and when Arie and I first glimpsed it through a shuttle simport, it looked absolutely heavenly – as white as snow, spangled with lovely colored lights. The war was over and she was lighting herself up to celebrate. I had actually been on this ship before, returning to Quaba alone after marrying Honeyhair on Providence. At that time, there were sections of the ship that were off-limits to Legion troopers – as if we might infect the swimming pool where the civilians played. But this time it was different. The entire ship was open to us – and there were thousands of us, Legion troopers returning home from Vulcan. Many of us were walking wounded, like Arie and me. As we walked through the docklock en masse, we passed under a giant sign that read: WELCOME HEROES! WELCOME LEGION AND FLEETCOM! THE SHIP IS YOURS! A GRATEFUL NATION WELCOMES YOU HOME!
When I was a kid I was captivated by the ancient poetry of R
udyard Kipling, a warrior-poet who celebrated the common soldier of the vanished British Empire. I read him so often his words were carved into my brain. And now, passing under that amazing sign, I heard his words again, a ghostly whisper from the distant past:
"For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' 'Tommy, wait outside,'
But it's 'Special train for Atkins' when the trooper's on the tide –
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's 'Special train for Atkins' when the trooper's on the tide.
"While it's Tommy this, an Tommy that, an' 'Tommy, fall be'ind,'
But it's 'Please to walk in front, sir,' when there's trouble in the wind –
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind.
O it's 'Please to walk in front, sir,' when there's trouble in the wind."
The entire ship's officer compliment was right at the boarding port to greet us – I hadn’t seen so much brass in quite awhile. And they were all saluting us, standing ramrod straight. Some of our wounded were on airglide chairs or stretchers, and the Infinity's officers took over the task of guiding them into the ship. We had admirals and commodores and ship's captains helping out our enlisted wounded. I was very pleased to see that. I wondered if the ConFree public really appreciated what we had done.
Δ
"We're going home," Arie said. "We're really going home." We were sitting at a little plex table beside the giant swimming pool, which was flooded with artificial sunlight. It was crowded with Legion troopers, shouting and carousing, leaping into the pool and clowning around. Arie and I were both in swim trunks and Arie had finally gotten rid of that armorite chest protector. His chest was covered with deep, nasty red scars. My face was gleaming with medgel because I had just had a session at the hospital. "Look at this," Arie said, showing me the little plastic printout. "It says right here our assignment is Galactic Info, Delta Research. It's official!"
"Life is good," I replied.
"Of course it would be even better if Blondie and Honeyhair could join us, but they'll join us later, right?"
"Absolutely. Don't worry."
"What did the docs say about your scars?"
"They said my scars are healing rapidly. And what about you?"
"They told me to take it easy for awhile. We'll see."
"Home," I said, sipping lazily on an icy blossom tea.
"Home," Arie repeated. "You know, Delta Research is the only home I have."
"Yeah, same here."
"It's like a dream."
"Fred will be taking care of it. It's waiting for us. Our quarters. The Viking. The garden. Standing under the overhang watching the rain. Feeling the warmth on your skin."
"Doctor Dimension will be there. And Paula Deep. And the Prof and Ice and Saka should be there by now."
"Yeah. Maybe," I said. "Or maybe not."
"What do you mean?"
"Things change. Don't be surprised if things are not the same."
"Why do you say that?"
"How many useful visions did we have in the months leading up to the war?"
"Well, let's see…Bees had the best one. It was pretty spectacular, no?"
"And singularly lacking in things that we didn't already know. It just confirmed what we knew was already coming. And how many other visions did Delta Research come up with?"
"Well…I heard Ice came up with one. But it was evidently so cosmic secret that nobody would even admit to it. I asked her about it, when I first heard about it, and she turned pale and just walked away from me. Weird!"
"Well, even if Ice's was a real one, two visions are not much in comparison to all those tax credits that were flowing into Delta Research."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I expect Delta Research to change. The emphasis may change from prophecy to something else. Like raising the dead."
"I see. You don't think they'd close down Delta Research?"
"Let's wait for everybody to return, then see how many Deltas have new DX brains – and how many can bring the dead back to life. No, with a gang like ours, I think it would be difficult to argue that we don't have a lot of promise. Telepathy, prophecy, and bringing the dead back to life. Even our pet wolf has remarkable powers. No, I don’t think they'll close down Delta Research. I think it will likely become more important than ever."
"Well, I hope you're right. Are you ready for another swim?"
"Sure. Let's do it."
Δ
The next startracer came when Arie and I were in the gym, testing out our new muscles in the weight room. We hurried out of the weight room to the changing room and I set my tacmod on a table and the star tracer appeared. I was always afraid when star tracers appeared. It was normally bad news.
UNCLASS PERS ST 9921614405 – GALACTIC INFO QUABA DELTA RESEARCH TO CS INFINITY LEGION PERS PROPHET 7789732039 OR NITRO 7789732018. PERSONAL MESSAGE FROM PROFESSOR 6045889580.
My dear Prophet and Nitro, We are now back in Delta and I have some sad news to relay. I received a telepathed transmission via our DX neural comset from Willow, that brave young Bright knight who marched with us on Vulcan. He informs me that our beloved Breakblade was killed in action in the last phases of the campaign on Vulcan. Of course he was leading his troops into battle when he was hit. Regrettably he was hit by multiple tacstars and there was not enough of him left for the B's to resurrect him. Willow says he will always be remembered as a hero and a patriot, who died fighting Satan. You will remember that was his goal, to emulate his grandfather. Willow says Breakblade is now within the ranks of Heaven's Army under Saint Michael the Archangel. Pray to him when you go into battle, Willow said. He was a great warrior. So, for Breakblade, the mission is finally accomplished.
That's all I have for now. Return here as soon as you can. Prof.
UNCLASS PERS ST 9921614405 END.
Δ
It was a dark, cold and rainy day when Arie and I disembarked from the Infinity's shuttle and walked into Quaba Starport's main terminal with a host of other returning veterans. We were greeted with an honor guard from Quaba Military Academy – it looked like the whole damned school, immaculately uniformed kids all the way from grammar school to midschool, too young to serve in Vulcan but not too young to learn about it. We had to walk in between two long columns of kids, braced at attention, saluting us as a big band blasted away with the national anthem, "The Black March". The terminal was full – a mass of humanity, it looked like thousands of random civilians. They burst into applause as soon as we appeared, and did not stop. There were plenty of kids clumped in groups under signs identifying their schools. They must have been air-bussed in from the schools to greet us. Everybody was waving miniature ConFree flags. A giant sign hung overhead:
WELCOME HOME.
THE PEOPLE OF CONFREE THANK YOU FOR YOUR SACRIFICES.
The applause was deafening.
And now the little yellow caution tapes that had separated the incoming troops from the people were suddenly torn to shreds as anxious onlookers spotted their loved ones in the crowd of troopers and broke into a disorderly charge in what can only be described as a holy reunion of lovers and families and friends, troops and civilians reuniting, at last, at last, at last.
The Prof and Saka and Ice were there. We all embraced, without shame. This was my family. It was so damned good to be home.
Δ
We regouped in Delta Lounge, sprawling in airchairs, sipping dox around a low table covered with doxcups and snacks. It was so wonderful to be there. I had first visited my quarters, my home, after all that time. The place was so inviting it was like a physical force. I could smell Honeyhair's scent in the air, a faint musky perfume. My heart sped up, then. Peace, heart. Peace.
The Prof addressed Arie and me while Saka and Ice sat in. Blackie was there too, panting happily by the Prof's side. He had greeted us excitedly. This was all of Delta that had so far returned home. Each one of us had DX brain structu
res, four of us had been killed in action and survived, and all five of us were now Bright Knights, pledged to protect the innocent, fight evil and spread the faith. And any one of us, maybe all of us, might have the ability to raise the dead from the battlefield. What were we to accomplish in the future?
"All right, boys and girls," the Prof said, "this is one happy moment, and there are going to be more joyous reunions, as more of our scattered flock return from the war. Prophet, Nitro, you may not have the full picture of the war and how it ended. Yes, it was a great victory and we all sacrificed plenty to bring that about, but let's not kid ourselves. It was the Brights that defeated the Darks. The B's gave it all they had, and they were successful. The Darks realized they were losing, and made the decision to flee the scene. A lot of Darks were killed in the vac while fleeing Vulcan. Many, many of them. But the survivors returned to Mid Haven, abandoning this universe. Their Demon allies did their best to escape as well, but it was like a shooting gallery. A whole generation of Darks and Demons were killed. That's the good news. But the bad news is that many of them escaped. And Satan has a long memory."
"Well, don't stop there, Prof," I said. "What’s going to happen?"
"You're the prophet, Prophet. You tell me. We can use some good prophesies, to read our future."
"I'll try to do that."
"You may have noticed some construction activity outside."
"Sure did," Arie said. "It looks like they're planning on doubling the size of Delta Research."
"Yes. We have some changes. The Ministry of Science and a whole host of medical research organizations are setting up shop in Delta Research. Don't worry, we are still firmly under the control of Galactic Information. But we are going to be working closely with ConFree's cutting-edge science institutions."