by Mark Zubro
Brux said, “As far as I’ve been able to figure out, those things are designed to keep prisoners in, not so much to keep out an intergalactic attack. Unless this is being organized, orchestrated by Bex.”
Mike didn’t ask why again. He knew the answer was himself. Mike said, “How are they getting in? Why isn’t the central government’s fleet surrounding this place?”
Joe said, “Maybe Bex wants them in. Or he cut a deal with someone else who does. Dealing in you could make someone a lot of cash.”
“Wait,” Brux said. His hands pressed buttons rapidly. “I’m scanning for several light years in every direction. It’ll take a few moments.” They waited in silence. Brux sat back and said, “There are ships between this solar system and the next. One from each major faction. They aren’t moving.”
Krim asked, “Why are they holding back?”
Mike said, “Maybe they’re waiting to see what this one does. If we sent a distress signal, how long would it take them to get here?”
Brux said, “Maybe half a day if they came as fast as they could.”
“Do we want to send a distress signal?” Joe asked.
“Yes!” Cak shrieked. “We need help!”
Mike gave him a sardonic look. “You’re expecting the very government that sent you here to now save you? Really? Remember the goal of many of them is to kill us all.”
Cak said, “We have to protect ourselves. Arm ourselves immediately.”
Mike pointed out, “Except for me, we don’t have any arms.”
Brux said, “Much as I wish I could cut my tongue out before I say this, but I agree with Cak.”
The others gaped at him.
Joe said, “I never thought I’d see the day.”
Mike shrugged. “Why don’t we see what it is they do want?”
The speakers crackled to life. “Faggot prison colony, surrender or die.”
They men in the room stared at each other.
Cak said, “We better find some arms pretty damn quick.”
“Quiet!” Mike snapped. “Let me think.” His last report from Snek was that he’d cobbled together some materials from several expeditions. As far as Mike could figure out what they had would be like bringing a knife to a gun fight. Still, he called Snek to the communications room.
They waited in silence for Snek to arrive. Five minutes later, he hurried into the room. Karsh trailed behind. Many of the men of the colony clustered in the hall.
Mike explained the situation. Snek said, “You couldn’t defend yourselves against a tame ravening kitten from the Outer Systems of Rensteril, even if it was asleep. Forget fighting back.”
Karsh shrieked, “We’ve got to get everything we’ve got! The mini laser diggers. They’d do something. We can’t just sit here and wait for death to come to us!”
Mike said, “They’ll have more sophisticated, more powerful, and more deadly weapons.”
Joe added, “They could just start firing and never get off the ship.”
“They gotta be here for some reason,” Mike said. “If, as we all suspect, it’s me, they can’t just start random violence. I hope.”
Mike took out his communicator and manipulated the front of it. Joe moved next to him. Mike looked up. “Tell them we surrender.”
Brux harrumphed.
Mike said, “Please.”
Brux complied.
Karsh screamed and swore at the top of his lungs. Mike noted that this was his normal freak-out hysterical reaction to the vicissitudes of the universe. He didn’t think it did much good. He preferred the calm thoughtful approach.
Joe turned to Karsh and using his quietest tone of voice said, “Shut up.”
Karsh stood mouth agape.
Mike looked at the others. They were waiting for him.
Again the speakers crackled with the reiterated demand and threat.
Brux swore. “How stupid are they? We just surrendered.”
Krim said, “Maybe their receiving equipment is broken.”
Cak swore and began his own protest. His first words were, “Wait until the whole colony hears about this! If we aren’t all dead.”
Joe turned on him and advanced several steps toward him.
Cak said, “Fine, I’ll shut up. We can all die silent.”
Joe took another step toward him.
Cak subsided.
Mike said, “Call them again, please, and, Brux, tremble, grovel, be humble. I want them off guard.”
The others were silent as Brux did as he was asked.
When he finished, Mike asked, “How long before they land?”
Brux checked his monitor, tapped several buttons. “An hour, maybe a little more.”
Cak said, “They must want you. Probably only you. You can surrender.”
Mike said, “I’ll offer myself to them, but I won’t be taken.”
Cak said, “They’ll kill the rest of us.”
Brux said, “Not if I kill you first.”
Karsh opened his mouth to speak.
Brux said, “And you second.”
Many of the men had clustered outside the communication center in the newly widened entrance. Mike had Brux summon the rest.
When they were all present he told them what was going on. Near the back, Karsh and Cak stood in silence giving Mike evil looks. Mike could prove more than anyone that looks couldn’t kill. He knew this because his automatic protection didn’t go off.
When he finished, Karsh tried one last snarl. “I say we grab any weapon we can find and fight! Fight to the last breath!”
Mike said, “Watch.”
Minutes later the colonists and Mike listened while Brux gave the final landing guidelines. “Couple more minutes,” Brux said.
“Okay,” Mike said. “Brux, please turn on all the hangar lights and the bridge lights.”
The men made a path for him to walk out. Mike walked through them. Many murmured good wishes and good luck.
Moments later the men clustered in and around the entrance to watch, Cak and Karsh again in the rear. Mike noted the two of them and thought, freak out and hysteria, but there’s nowhere to run no matter how crazed you get.
Joe walked with Mike to the near end of the bridge. Joe said, “I’ll come with you.”
Mike said, “If I’m lost, the others will need you.” Joe understood.
They hugged and kissed.
Mike turned and strode to the apex of the bridge. Full night had fallen. The stars shone brightly. The first moon rose orange in the east. Lightning dotted the peaks behind him. Non-freaked out and non-hysterical as he was, his hands trembled and his heart raced. Once again he had to depend on a device created by a mad scientist from another world. Nothing for it but to go ahead. Crawling into a hole to await death wasn’t Mike’s style.
At the top of the bridge, Mike halted. He felt the slight evening breeze, more chilly now than when they’d arrived. He strained for the first whispers of the approaching craft. He heard the ship just before it became lit by the hangar lights as it descended from the heavens. Then he heard the air reverse suction, and moments later the gentle whomp of the landing.
Mike could see now that the ship was scarred and burnt black in numerous places as if it had escaped a battle. A few minutes later, Mike saw six pirates disembark.
The pirates set no guard. Nor did they seem to be an organized attack squad. They could see Mike standing alone at the top of the bridge.
None of the pirates seemed inclined to explore the darkness on all sides of them. They headed toward the bridge.
They were armed and a few held weapons at ease. As they neared the far end, Mike could see that most of them wore clothes with scorch marks and jagged rips. One leaned heavily on his comrades as he walked. The man who walked in front closest to Mike wore the only fresh outfit, a silver spangled tunic covered with what on Earth Mike would call rhinestones. Mike made out the insignia that identified him as a captain under the Admiral of Death, Def, the most feared pirate i
n the galaxy.
The leader seemed to be talking quite animatedly.
Agonizing moments passed. Nobody made threatening moves toward him. Nobody looked friendly either. As they got closer, Mike could see that one of the men had a deep gash that still oozed blood on the left side of his face.
The silver spangled one stopped twenty feet in front of Mike. The pirate ordered. “Surrender your communicator and your implant.”
Mike wasn’t going to do the first, and it was impossible for him to do the second. He’d never tried to rip the implant out of the small spot behind his ear. He imagined it would hurt if he tried it. And if he tried it, would the implant attack him to protect itself? Maybe wound him a little? Incapacitate him?
Mike said, “Make me.” He felt like a fourth grader on a playground.
The pirate said, “Surrender or die.”
“No,” Mike said.
With no other warning the pirate next to the spangled one brought his weapon up and opened fire. Mike’s blue aura bent it back upon itself. The man’s weapon exploded in a smoky foof, and a second later he crumpled to the ground.
Mike took two steps toward the pirates. He had his communicator in his right hand. He said, “Surrender or die.” Using his communicator, he caused his aura to expand.
The pirates looked at their leader. Mike caused a laser-like beam to emerge from his communicator and sent it to within an inch of the spangled guy’s feet. All the pirates dropped their weapons. A few of them fell to their knees.
Mike said, “Surrender or die.”
The spangled guy gaped at him.
Mike said to the presumed leader. “What are you doing here?”
He pointed at Mike. “We wanted to capture you. There’s a trillion dollar bounty on your head.”
Mike said, “You mean I could be rich? If I turn myself in, do I get the reward?”
The pirate looked confused. “I dunno.” The spangled guy began to back away. He motioned to two of the others who picked up their fallen comrade. They all scuttled back to their ship.
Mike held his position. He didn’t think they were done.
They scrambled on board. In a few moments, they were hovering in the air like a helicopter but without the whirling blades.
Mike heard the thing rev up, but it didn’t move. He guessed what was coming and was right.
Using what looked like every weapons system on the ship, they fired on him.
The effect was instantaneous. Mike’s aura blossomed faster than a lightning strike, and then following back on the ship’s own weapons, and blew it to smithereens.
Mike felt like he’d been gut punched. He fell to one knee. He concentrated on drawing deep breaths. He heard footsteps pounding up behind him.
Mike saw Joe’s face and felt his husband’s arm go around him. “Are you okay?” Joe asked.
“I think so.”
He heard Joe’s voice as if coming from a great distance, but he felt his husband’s reassuring hands, one rubbing his back, the other clutching his arm. He felt the body close to him, warm and tingly. He felt safe and powerful and overwhelmed.
He looked at the place where the ship used to be. Several of the men were running back from inspecting it.
“It’s gone!” one shouted.
“All of it!” called another.
Mike saw a look of new respect in their eyes. They’d witnessed great power unleashed on their behalf.
Mike felt wild, gloating elation followed by a rush of guilt. He tried to stand up, but crumpled back to the ground. He felt like he was at the bottom of the pile of three hundred pound linemen at the goal line in a football game. The fuckers who tried to kill him were dead, and that thrilled him. But he still wasn’t used to being a lethal weapon himself and that disturbed him. He hoped he never got used to causing the deaths of others. It was horrible. But he’d had no choice.
Joe said, “Do you want to try to stand?”
With Joe’s help, he did. He felt a little woozy but his breathing was already nearly normal. He looked to where the ship had been. The others followed his gaze.
Below where the pirate vessel had floated before was a small oval of floating goo.
Brux said, “My God in heaven.”
Mike said, “Not God. Just me. Fewer commandments and less arbitrary.”
Snek and a couple of men he’d been training in science hurried over to the debris. When they came back, Snek reported. “No survivors. Not much of anything. I’m not sure there’s more than a few molecules left intact.” He shook his head and said, “I heard of your implant. We all had, but this.” He swept his arm toward the wreckage.
Mike said, “Blame Vov. He designed and built it. We just installed it.”
The others clustered around him. He saw looks of shock and awe. Mike was just tired. Leaning on Joe’s arm, he made his way back to the entrance. The others touched him or shook his hand. Even Cak and Karsh kept their mouths shut.
They’d all just seen a display of the most powerful weapon in the universe.
But Mike in their cubicle lay awake. Once again he’d killed to protect himself. He thought of Scarlett O’Hara back at Tara in the movie Gone with the Wind where she vowed, “If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again.” He knew the comparison wasn’t exact, but he’d killed to save his own life. He’d die to save the others on this planet.
He listened to Joe’s breathing for a while. He felt comfort in the warm presence next to him. In the unflappable support Joe gave him, and the love that surrounded him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The next morning Mike ached as if all his muscles had just run a marathon.
Joe said, “You should stay in bed.”
“I’ve got to negotiate with another supplier today.”
“I know. I’ve got all the black market stuff ready to go. Should we try using the medical kit on you?”
“Let’s wait until we have to deal with a real emergency. They’re set to your anatomy and physiology. They might not harm me, but we don’t know what they’ll do. I should be okay. I’ll get ready for the negotiations, and then I’ve got my digging quota to get done.”
Each delivery, Mike met with the central government’s official representative. Joe did black market deals and made contact with any spies or friendly representatives to try and get more of the things they desperately needed. Joe had some success. More than Mike did with the official reps. Except Nek, the others stuck rigidly to the rules. Mike suspected they were monitored both coming and going.
That morning, as he walked down the halls and past the groups of workers, he thought the men looked at him differently. He passed Cak on the ramp up. Cak sneered and muttered under his breath like a teenager in his room after being reprimanded.
Mike ignored him and smiled and said good morning as usual to all of them.
Up at the communications rooms, he got set to talk to the captain of the supply ship. Brux bustled in and said, “I’ve never been in the presence of a hero.”
Mike said, “All I did was stand there.”
“My dear, you have been transferred to god-like status.”
“I’m not…”
“I know that.”
“They looked at me differently this morning.”
“Respect, my dear. For power and might. And you saved them. They are grateful.”
Mike said, “I’ve got work to do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Weeks later the storms arrived. Mike doubted if the Leavers were ever going to go. Not in this kind of weather. Bir reported the perfillian wood was fine. The digging out of the mountain remained on schedule. The supply ships continued to bring a few new colonists each visit. But the huge influx threatened by Fash and his inspection committee had not materialized. Mike and Joe had not heard from any of their spies since that visit.
The observation room on Rainbow Mountain was empty except for Mike. Outside, the storm howled. The wi
nd galed. The rain bucketed. It was the end of the first week of the two-month rainy season. Mike had come here each morning as the storms had gotten lower and lower in the mountains. Each day, just after sunrise, for a week, the rain and the sun aligned just right to have gorgeous rainbows, double and triple rainbows from this vantage. It was beautiful. After a week it was done. They no longer saw the sun rise, just a lessening of the darkness.
Mike didn’t know what the official name for the mountain was. Some number like the planet’s or lengthy bureaucratic clause filled with precise designations like the names in this part of the galaxy. Or maybe its name was Mountain Number Six. Something prosaic. At this point in his life, Mike wouldn’t mind prosaic.
Joe had worked ten and twelve hours days as they all had, but starting a week before the rains and now all this week, he’d been going sixteen to twenty hours a day. He was exhausted, like all of them. Mike took these few minutes high up in the mountains. The most recent colony expedition to 6743-0A had built this shelf and a way to get here. Mike and a few other diggers had worked extra hours to repair and renovate the pulleys, ramps, levers, and anti-gravity machines that could get them thousands of feet above the plain in just a few minutes.
For the millionth time Mike peered intently at the distant plain trying to see what had happened to the agricultural sections. Joe had assured him that the dikes, dams, levees, spillways, and retaining lakes were holding for now.
The reservoirs and retention system were supposed to keep enough water available to inundate the plants for the dry months ahead. For their now over one hundred men, the pumps were enough. For the prospective millions, perhaps billions of inhabitants, they needed an enormous system which they were trying to build.
Mike frowned down at the landscape being pummeled by vast sheets of water. Few people came to the observation room anymore. There was nothing to see except gray endless torrents.
Inside the colony the men had adjusted. There were grumblings and occasional fights. The men from the agricultural sector were often out long hours in the downpours, monitoring and making adjustments. The mid-day gale-force winds were hard to work through, but the early morning and late afternoon winds were generally less than thirty miles an hour. They worked through that and stayed inside for the worst of it.