by Peter Ward
“So you killed him.”
“That’s right—on the night of the party. After that, the final part of the plan was easy—in fact, the supercomputer was very helpful in showing me exactly how to keep the future the same whilst still fulfilling certain ‘parameters’: Firstly, I had to stop you playing that stupid game on the day of the invasion. After all, if you weren’t playing it, you wouldn’t be able to send out that message. So I tracked your movements from the moment you arrived in the future and broke your hand at the first opportunity.”
“So it was you who I saw during the Great Fire of London!” Geoff said. “You were the man wearing the hooded cape!”
“Indeed I was, Geoffrey, indeed I was. Second, I had to make sure I could sneak you back to the past again without anyone realizing what had happened. That was where the hypnosis came in—if you were able to pass a message on to my fellow Varsarians telling them to ‘revert’ the planet back to normal at a certain time, the computer would allow you to travel back to the twenty-first century under the misapprehension that everything was going to remain the same.”
“But you didn’t count on Tim double-checking the paradox scan even though it cleared me for travel,” Geoff said.
“I knew it was a possibility,” Mr. Knight said, “but the way I saw it, it was a win-win situation. If he didn’t double-check the scan and sent you back, our original invasion would succeed. On the other hand, if he did double-check the scan and didn’t send you back, our original invasion would still succeed because you still wouldn’t be there to play your game; you wouldn’t be there to send that message. I’ll admit—I didn’t anticipate the fact that history wouldn’t change immediately and that you’d be in a position to go back and defend the Earth, but given the fact that your fleet is about to be destroyed, it looks like my little gamble paid off, wouldn’t you say?”
“Not yet,” the captain said, piping up. “We’ve still got the Concordia and a few other ships out there that weren’t under Mai’s control. We can still put up a good fight!”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Mr. Knight said. “By the time all the computer-controlled ships have destroyed themselves, you’ll be down to less than two hundred vessels! Face it—you’re outgunned, and you’re outnumbered.”
“I don’t care,” the captain said. “We’ve got some brave people on these ships, and we’ll fight to the death if necessary. What have you got? You’re nothing more than a bunch of cowards who run away when they hear a stupid message from a kid playing a computer game!”
“We are not a bunch of cowards!” Mr. Knight shouted. “The Varsarian high command might have decided to flee when they heard that message, but I’ll have you know—my ancestors were the only ones who had to be ordered to break off their attack when we thought humanity had a Death Bringer! Ordered! They still wanted to fight!”
“Oh my God!” Geoff whispered to the captain. “Did you hear that? We’ve got him!”
“What are you talking about?” the captain said.
“You’ve got to get me back to the bridge,” Geoff said.
“But what about Mr. Knight?” the captain said.
“Leave him to play around in this stupid maze,” Geoff replied. “If what he’s just told us is true, we can still win this war …”
Twenty-Six
Geoff paced up and down in the elevator as it made its way back up to the bridge. You could definitely tell the Concordia was starting to take a serious amount of damage now, the lift juddering uncomfortably as it headed for its destination. He was accompanied by Captain Holland and a contingent of five armed guards whom the captain had called away from the remote operations deck to act as their protection. Tim, Ruth, and the Defence Minister had remained downstairs to deal with Mr. Knight.
“This plan of yours,” Captain Holland said. “It’s crazy, but at the same time … it might just work …”
“It’s got to work,” Geoff said, his heart beating faster as the lift swerved from one direction to another. “It’s our only chance.”
“WARNING,” came an automated male voice. “SHIELDS AT 10% CAPACITY.”
Geoff raised his eyebrows. A male computer!
“Who is this man, Captain?” one of the armed guards asked. “I haven’t seen him on board before …”
“Is he from military intelligence?” another guard asked.
Geoff was about to answer when the captain interrupted.
“That’s right,” he said, holding up a hand to stop Geoff from speaking “He’s one of our key strategists on this mission.”
Geoff kept quiet and flashed the captain a quizzical look. A strategist?
The captain let out a deep breath.
“I just hope we can get back in time,” he sighed. “I don’t think the ship can take much more damage.”
“How much farther?” Geoff said.
“Only a few more floors. We should …”
But before the captain had a chance to finish his sentence, the lift came to a grinding halt, sending everyone crashing into each other like a stack of dominoes. The lights above began to flicker uncontrollably, the walls began to buckle, and the control panel to the side of the doors started to smoke.
“What was that?” Geoff shouted, coughing violently.
“The elevator shaft must be damaged!” the captain replied, fanning the smoke away from his face. “Everyone, get out!”
Two of the armed guards rushed forwards and prized their weapons in between the elevator doors, heaving them open as wide as they could. Fortunately, the lift had stopped just above a deck, and there was enough space to crawl between the doors and jump down to the floor.
The lift began to creak.
“Jump!” the captain shouted, pushing Geoff through the gap first.
Geoff fell onto the hard gray floor feet first and cried out in pain, keeling over against a nearby wall. It felt like he’d twisted a muscle. He tried to stand up straight and looked around—he was in a long corridor with metallic walls, a high ceiling, and a long, silver handrail running along one side. The corridor was bathed in a pulsating red light.
“WARNING,” came the automated voice again. “SHIELDS NOW AT CRITICAL LEVELS. HULL BREACH IMMINENT.”
Geoff watched as the captain exited the lift, jumping down a little more gracefully than Geoff had managed to do. The five armed guards came next, each one throwing their guns down to the floor first before lowering themselves out of the lift and collecting their weapons again once they were safe.
Just as the last guard managed to jump clear, the elevator groaned under the strain of its own weight and plummeted back down into the depths of the ship.
“That was close,” the captain said, leaning on Geoff’s shoulder as he caught his breath. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” Geoff said, wiping his brow, “But we’ve got to get to that bridge! Is there another way?”
“We’re only three decks below,” the captain said. He let go of Geoff’s shoulder. “Follow me!”
But just as the captain began to run, a huge explosion rocked the ship, the tremors causing him to stumble straight into a wall. All around them, the corridor began to tear itself apart, the sound of shearing metal filling their ears like a steam train grinding to a halt. The floor and ceiling split completely in two, the walls cracked open, and the two ends of the corridor began to list away from each other like two halves of a sinking ship, separating Geoff and the armed guards from their commanding officer. Through falling debris and grit in his eyes, Geoff edged towards the gap. He thought about trying to jump it, but the other side was too far away, and it was certainly too far to fall.
The captain staggered to his feet and looked at them from the other side of the newly created crevice.
“Captain!” one of the armed guards shouted. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine!” the captain called back. “But the ship’s falling apart! We need to …”
A
ll of a sudden, a loud hum began to fill the air. The captain stopped talking and looked behind him—a thin line of molten metal had started to appear on the far wall. It began to trace the outline of a large circle—big enough for someone to climb through.
“My God!” the captain said, unholstering his weapon. “That’s an outer bulkhead! The Varsarians are trying to cut their way through! They must have their ships locked against the hull! We’re being boarded!”
The captain appeared to be trapped—it was too far for him to jump across to where Geoff and his men were, and it didn’t look as though he had enough time to make it past the Varsarians before they came aboard.
“What are your orders, Captain?” One of the armed guards shouted.
The captain stood there for a moment saying nothing, just watching the circle of molten metal as it grew closer to completing itself.
“Sir, your orders!”
“Get that man to the bridge!” the captain said, pointing at Geoff. “He’s your commanding officer now! Protect him with your lives! Mr. Stamp—you’re our last hope of winning this fight—you know what to do!”
The guards all immediately turned to Geoff and saluted him.
“This way, sir!” one shouted, leading him the opposite way down the corridor. “We’ll take the service stairs!”
The other four guards formed a protective escort around Geoff and began to run, but they only made it a few metres before two Varsarians ran out from around a corner up ahead, their lizard-like bodies dressed in full armor and protective headwear. The aliens stopped in their tracks, pulled out their weapons, and began firing brightly colored laser beams towards them.
“Get down!” one of the guards said, pushing Geoff to the ground.
Geoff looked back at the captain as the guards returned fire, shielding his face as the Varsarians’ lasers scorched the walls around him. The captain appeared to be speaking into panel on the wall next to him. Behind him, the molten circle of metal fell from the wall with a loud clang, and more Varsarian soldiers began to pour out.
“Crew, this is the Captain,” his voice announced, booming over the loudspeakers. “I hereby relinquish command of this vessel over to Geoffrey Stamp. I repeat—I hereby relinquish command of this vessel over to Geoffrey Stamp.” The captain looked back at the approaching swarm of Varsarians approaching and straightened his neck. “He is now the only person on board who can win this fight for us, and you will obey every order he gives without question. This is Captain Holland … signing out.”
Geoff tried not think about what Tim must have been thought when he’d heard that announcement. Probably something along the lines of “we’re doomed.”
But for once in his life, Geoff knew exactly what he had to do—he had the right skills, and he had the right experience.
Now he just needed to get to that bridge …
Twenty-Seven
“Report,” Geoff said, remembering the language the captain had used when speaking to his crew. He had only managed to return to the bridge with three remaining armed guards—two of the group had given up their lives in order to protect him from the Varsarian boarding parties. “How are we doing?”
If the state of the bridge was anything to go by, Geoff didn’t really need a report to tell him how they were doing. Computer terminals were on fire, support beams had collapsed from the ceiling, scorch marks were running up the walls, and a disconcertingly large crack had appeared on the main window. The Concordia had obviously taken quite a hammering whilst they’d been trying to find Mr. Knight, and the bridge seemed to have lost a number of crew members as a result—the dead bodies of various officers were either slumped over their damaged stations or sprawled across the floor, limbs snapped back into painfully unnatural positions. In fact, looking around, there only seemed to be one officer left, sitting in the captain’s seat with his head in his hands.
“It’s not looking good, sir,” the officer said, wiping a streak of ash from his forehead and relinquishing the seat for Geoff. “Almost all of the fleet has been destroyed. The Concordia is running on auxiliary power, and all weapons systems are down. The ships that weren’t being controlled by Mai are putting up a good fight, but they’re heavily outnumbered.”
Geoff limped over to the captain’s chair and sat down, looking up at the giant screen in front of him. The battlefield was like a spaceship graveyard, with the charred wreckages of hundreds of Earth cruisers drifting all around, scorched debris hanging in the vacuum, and the bodies of countless servicemen and women drifting in every direction. He winced as another battle cruiser ruptured from the inside and exploded. The force of the explosion was so powerful it took a neighboring ship with it.
The Varsarians, on the other hand, seemed to be having a whale of a time, concentrating their fire on the ships that didn’t appear to be malfunctioning. In the distance, a lone vessel was being chased by over fifty flying saucers, all of which simultaneously opened fire. The vessel tried its best to take evasive action, but the force of the attack was too great, and it was soon destroyed.
“Open a channel to all remaining ships,” Geoff ordered.
“What?” the officer said.
“Open a channel to the all remaining ships!” Geoff shouted.
“But, sir—don’t you remember what Mai said? The aliens are almost certainly listening to our communications! They’ll hear everything you say!”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for,” Geoff replied calmly.
The officer looked at him for a moment as if he was going to say something else before limping over to the communications terminal and wiping it clean with the sleeve of his uniform.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said, pressing a small red button in front of him. “Channel open.”
Geoff cleared his throat.
“Remaining Earth ships, your attention please! Prepare to activate the Death Bringer!”
Geoff looked up at the screen and waited. His heart was beating so hard he could almost feel it through his clothes.
Just as he had hoped, the transmission seemed to have quite an effect on the Varsarian fleet. Ships that were previously circling around the last remaining battle cruisers appeared to break off their attack, and many of the capital ships began to swing around into a precautionary retreat, as if there was some nervousness about the meaning of Geoff’s message. The only exception to this sudden display of panic was a lone flying saucer still gleefully taking pot shots at a crippled medical frigate.
“There,” Geoff said, pointing at the craft. “Do you see it?”
“I do,” the officer said.
“Lock on to that ship and open fire.”
“What’s a ‘Death Bringer’?” the officer said.
“It doesn’t matter!” Geoff shouted. “Lock on to that ship and open fire!”
“But, sir—weapons systems are offline! We’ve barely got enough power for propulsion.”
“Then set a collision course!” Geoff barked. “We’ll have to ram it!”
“Sir, I don’t think …”
“Don’t argue with me! We haven’t got much time before they realize we don’t have a Death Bringer! This is a priority four-seven-niner-bravo order! Set a collision course for that vessel! Now!”
The officer nodded and hobbled over to the navigations terminal. He pushed a dead body off the seat so he could sit down and typed in a few commands as quickly as he could.
“Course set,” he said. “Engines are powering up.”
The bridge creaked as the Concordia began to accelerate towards its target. Another beam fell to the floor behind them, crashing through a row of monitors.
To the right of the screen, Geoff noticed one of the last remaining Earth ships drifting into their path.
“Get out of the way!” Geoff screamed! “I can’t hit it if you’re in the way!”
The ship appeared to respond, firing its secondary thrusters to maneuver out
of the Concordia’s path.
All of a sudden, Tim walked from the stairwell, his gun pressed against Mr. Knight’s throat. The rest of their contingent of armed guards marched in behind them, their rifles trained on the traitor’s head.
“We got him,” Tim said, kicking Mr. Knight to his knees.
“Where’s Ruth?” Geoff said, running over to meet them. “And the Defence Minister?”
“They’re still downstairs trying to fix the computer,” Tim said, dabbing a cut on his forehead. “Doesn’t look good.”
Geoff looked down at Mr. Knight.
Mr. Knight looked back.
He had a serious wound to his leg and a nasty gash across his face, but he was smiling inanely, a gleam of triumph in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re smiling about,” Geoff said, grabbing Mr. Knight’s jaw and jerking his head to face the main window. “You see that ship dead ahead? The one we’re about to ram into?”
Mr. Knight twisted his head free from Geoff’s grip and spat out a mouthful of blood. He said nothing.
“That’s the ship with your ancestors on it,” Geoff said. “You were right: they were the only ones that didn’t react when I told the fleet to activate the Death Bringer—they were the only ones who carried on attacking. Thanks to your little story, you made them easy for us to identify.”
Mr. Knight’s eyes widened, but his smile stayed fixed on his face as if he was too stunned to realize that he should probably change his expression.
“So what do you think will happen if we destroy that ship?” Geoff asked.
Mr. Knight remained silent.
“Let me tell you what I think. If your ancestors are on that ship, killing them would kill you, right? In fact, if they die, you’ll never have even existed. And if you never existed, you wouldn’t have been able to sabotage Mai. Not only that—you wouldn’t have been able to come up with this whole scheme to change history. The way I see it, if we destroy that ship, your entire race is finished.”