Theogony 1: Janissaries

by Chris Kennedy

  Janissaries

  Book One of the Theogony

  By

  Chris Kennedy

  PUBLISHED BY: Chris Kennedy

  Copyright © 2014 Chris Kennedy

  All Rights Reserved

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  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  I would like to thank Linda, Jennie and Jimmy, who took the time to critically read this work and make it better. I would also like to thank my mother, without whose steadfast belief in me, I would not be where I am today. Thank you. This book is dedicated to my wife and children, who sacrificed their time with me so that I could write it.

  Cover art by Genesis Graphic Design

  Author’s Notes

  Note: When more than one race refers to a planet or star in Janissaries, the same name is used by both races in order to prevent confusion. Also on the topic of planet naming, the normal convention for planets is to take the name of the parent star and add a lower case letter (i.e., Tau Ceti ‘b’). The first planet discovered in a system is usually given the designation ‘b’ and later planets are given subsequent letters as they are found. In order to prevent confusion in Janissaries, the closest planet to the star in a star system is given the letter ‘a’, with the rest of the planets given subsequent letters in order of their proximity to the star.

  Note: The ‘Dark Side’ of the Moon. There is no ‘dark side’ of the moon. Like many bodies in our solar system and among the stars, the moon is ‘tidally locked,’ where the moon makes one revolution about its axis at the same rate that it makes one revolution around the Earth. Because of this, the same side of the moon is always facing the Earth as it orbits around it. Even though we never see the other side of the moon from Earth (we have seen it through various probes and explorer craft), the ‘dark side’ gets as much sunlight as the side we can see. At a length of just over 27 days, the moon’s day is just a lot longer than ours.

  “...the indirect is by far the most hopeful and economic form of strategy.”

  ― Sir Basil H. Liddel-Hart, Strategy

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Book 2 of the Theogony

  Prologue

  Snoqualmie National Forest, WA, August 28, 2018, 1430 PDT

  “I may never finish all this paperwork,” said Calvin, “even if you give me a hand.” Lieutenant Shawn Hobbs, or ‘Calvin’ as he was known to the other aviators in his F-18 squadron, was catching up on all of the administrative things that hadn’t been done during the several days of the Sino-American War. He had started out with a huge pile of post mission reports to put together, tons of awards to write up and too many next of kin letters to send.

  He looked at the other two occupants of the small cabin for support. He didn’t find it in Master Chief Ryan O’Leary. “I’m not helping you do it,” replied his second-in-command during the war. “That’s what they make officers for.” Although he generally liked his former commanding officer, Ryan generally didn’t like authority. Ryan believed that the reason officers existed was to take care of the administrative things, which freed him to focus on the little things...like fighting and winning the nation’s wars.

  Two weeks previously, China, after patiently waiting decades for the peaceful return of Taiwan, had finally decided on a more aggressive approach. Until then, the threat of a United States’ counterattack had kept them from invading the island nation, but the Chinese had finally come up with a way to keep the Americans out of a war in Asia.

  They invaded Seattle.

  Not only did they invade Seattle (and Tacoma, as well), they also attacked and captured nearby Bangor Naval Base, with its arsenal of nuclear warheads for America’s submarine-launched ballistic missiles. With some of these warheads in hand, they hoped to keep the United States from not only counterattacking them in Seattle, but in Taiwan, as well, for fear that one of these warheads would ‘accidentally’ go off.

  Lieutenant Hobbs, along with Master Chief O’Leary, a former SEAL living in the area, had led a group of Rangers on a number of dangerous missions behind enemy lines during the brief conflict. These missions included recapturing the stolen nuclear weapons, which enabled the U.S. military to not only go on the offensive in the northwest, but also to stage a daring raid on Taiwan that turned the tide of the war.

  Unfortunately for Calvin, as the platoon’s only officer, he was the one responsible for filling out all of the post-war paperwork. Buried under an avalanche of it, he had requested a couple of weeks of temporary duty in the Seattle area after the war to get it all completed. Hoping for at least a little grudging assistance from Ryan, Calvin and his girlfriend, Sara Sommers, had come out to Ryan’s cabin in the woods.

  “All of this paperwork might be my responsibility,” said Calvin, “but I’ve got a lot more of it than I can do. Take a look at this one, for example. This is the award for some idiot that saved a colonel from getting his dumb butt shot off when he tried to attack a tank with just a rifle. Who’d do a stupid thing like that?” He paused, looking at the award. Ryan looked up, recognizing that the award was for him. “A Distinguished Service Cross?” Calvin asked, his voice a little louder. “No way! I’m throwing this one away.” He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it at the garbage can, missing badly.

  “Really?” asked Ryan, “A Distinguished Service Cross? The only thing higher than that is the Medal of Honor. Shoot, sir, I was just doing my job. That was hardly worthy of a Distinguished Service Cross.”

  “Well, I say it as worthy,” said Calvin, “and that’s all that matters. I still have a little bit of influence at the moment, and I plan to use it before my 15 minutes of fame are over. I’m writing up everyone I can think of for everything that I can remember. I just need your help in remembering all of the things our tro
ops did that need to be recognized.”

  “The navy said he could only stay here in Seattle until he got his paperwork done,” added Sara Sommers. She had met Calvin during the war and hadn’t let him out of her sight since the war ended. “Don’t help him too much. I don’t want him to get finished too quickly.”

  “I see,” said Ryan. “If you’re only staying in Washington until you finish, you’re not in much of a hurry to get it all completed, are you?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m trying to do a thorough job of it,” replied Calvin. “Besides, when I get back to the squadron, we’re still going out on our scheduled six month cruise.” He paused and looked at Sara. “I’m not sure that I want to do that anymore.”

  All three of them were quiet for a moment, full of thought.

  Without warning, Calvin’s head snapped around to look at one of the far corners of the room. “We’re not alone,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Ryan. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “No, I’m telling you, I heard something,” argued Calvin. “For the last week, I’ve felt like someone’s been watching me, and I know that I just heard something over in the corner.”

  Suddenly, in the corner were three…beings. They were generally humanoid but didn’t appear to be human, as they were too short, and their heads were too big.

  “Hello,” said one, stepping forward. “Although I guess the proper thing in your society is for us to say, ‘take us to your leader.’”

  “What?” asked Ryan, unable to come to terms with the sudden appearance of the humanoids. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Arges,” the same one said. “We need your help.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter One

  Tom Sommers’ House, North Bend, WA, September 1, 2018

  Four days had passed since meeting the aliens, and Calvin looked out the front window of Tom Sommers’ living room to see two large, black Suburbans pulling up out front. The three-bedroom ranch that Sara’s parents owned was about 25 miles east of Seattle in the bedroom community of North Bend. The house backed up to E.J. Roberts Park, the site of one the platoon’s battles during the war. “They’re here,” he said as the men began walking up the pathway to the house.

  As he had been asked by the aliens, Calvin had called the Chief of Naval Operations and told him that he needed to speak to the president about a matter of national security. The president had called him back later in the day during a meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, thinking that it had something to do with nuclear weapons. Calvin smiled at the memory; based on his reaction, it appeared that no one had ever asked the president to do something on an act of faith before, and certainly not this big. ‘Could you please fly out to Washington, without anyone knowing, and meet me at my girlfriend’s parent’s house, because there’s a matter of national defense that I can’t talk about over the phone?’ Had he been anyone else, Calvin probably wouldn’t have been able to get the aliens their requested meeting with the president. He was still recognized as ‘America’s Savior’ from the war, though, and still had a touch of political capital left to use. The president had agreed to come out secretly, but had also let Calvin know in no uncertain terms that (1) this had really, really, better be important and (2) this trip used up any favors that Calvin thought might be owed to him for his service during the war.

  Calvin didn’t have a problem with either of these warnings, as he was sure that a meeting with extraterrestrials would definitely qualify as important under the first caveat. If anything, by setting up the meeting so discreetly, he had probably earned even more political capital for the future.

  The problem with sneaking the president out to Washington, Calvin saw, was less a matter of a cover story than it was hiding all of the secret service guards and the rest of his entourage. The two black Suburbans that had pulled up to the house were the bare minimum that his secret service detachment would allow. The group walked quickly to the house, where Tom Sommers, Sara’ father, welcomed them at the door. Tom brought the president to the dining room table where Calvin and Ryan were waiting for him. The president, Calvin and Ryan all sat down at the table while the Sommers stood a little further back, listening to, but not really part of the conversation.

  For Calvin, this was the first time that he had met the president in person. He was unsure of what his reception would be. While Calvin was responsible for leading a number of missions that significantly shortened the war, including recovering nuclear weapons on three separate occasions, he had also been the source of some discontent among members of the government after the war. Shortly after the Chinese surrender, he had sold the story of the platoon to the media for an enormous amount of money. Some people thought it had been done too quickly and that it was disrespectful to the dead.

  “It’s good to finally meet the ‘Opportunist of Seattle,’” said the president to Calvin in a voice that might have been called ‘stern.’ Apparently, the president was part of the group that thought selling his story to the media wasn’t cool, Calvin thought. Oh well.

  “Well, sir, I look at it as resourceful, not opportunistic,” Calvin replied without remorse. “I’m just trying to take care of the families of my men who got killed defending their country.”

  “As the president, I am entirely opposed to what you are doing, as it sets a bad precedent for future conflicts,” the president said gravely. Then he laughed and winked at Calvin. “As Bill Jacobs, I think what you’re doing for those families is wonderful, and I’m glad you’re building a memorial, too. It would have taken decades for Congress to agree on the appropriate monument.” Calvin had used part of the money to set up a memorial and national cemetery next to where the nuclear weapons had been stored. The monument was to be placed in the field where 4,000 infantrymen had fought an armored column, armed with nothing but the rifles they purchased from local sporting goods stores. Although they had delayed the Chinese long enough for Calvin’s platoon to get there with the firepower needed to stop them, over half of them had given their lives in the battle, and another quarter had been wounded. Calvin had watched them continue to attack in spite of their gut-wrenching losses, and their sacrifice had made a tremendous impact on him. He would have spent every dime he had to his name to see their sacrifice adequately remembered. It was even better, though, to have the media pay for it.

  The president looked over to where Ryan was sitting. “And as for you, Master Chief O’Leary, what do you have to say for yourself? No one hangs up on the President of the United States!” Ryan had hung up on him, not once, but three times when the president had called to ask for Ryan’s help in finding the stolen nuclear warheads. Jacobs had not been amused.

  Ryan sprang to his feet, assumed a position of attention, and called out in his best drill sergeant voice, “Sir! Master Chief O’Leary is happy to be back in the navy and proud to have you as his commander-in-chief, sir!”

  He said it with so much apparent sincerity that the president almost believed him, even though he knew Master Chief wasn’t a fan of authority. He decided to give him a break. Smiling again, he said, “At ease, Master Chief. Thanks for all of your help, even if you are a frustrating son of a bit…son of a gun,” he finished, flushing a little and looking at Mrs. Sommers.

  Mrs. Sommers laughed and said, “Thank you, Mr. President, but I’ve heard it before.” She looked at Mr. Sommers, who had the decency to blush when called out in front of the president. Everyone laughed at that, even Mr. Sommers, and the tension eased a little.

  “OK,” the president said, looking back to Calvin, “so now that we’ve got all of that out of the way, what is so damn important that I had to come all the way here, by myself, in secret?”

  Calvin looked around the room. Although the president had come alone as asked, without any of his staff, ‘alone’ in the case of the president meant himself…and his six secret service guards. “Umm,” Calvin started, looking at the secret service men and women, “I need to talk with
you alone…”

  The president sighed, “Calvin, this is as alone as I get. The secret service guards swore an oath to protect me, not to do what I say. I could tell them to leave, but they wouldn’t leave me alone with people they don’t know. I have a hard enough time getting them to leave me alone with Mrs. Jacobs at night.” He chuckled at his own joke. “In any event, they are all sworn to secrecy, and I trust their oaths. We’re as alone as we’re going to get.”

  “In that case,” said Calvin, getting up from the table and walking to a bedroom door down the hall a short way from the kitchen, “I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

  The president looked confused as two short men and one short woman came out of the room with Calvin and walked toward the kitchen. The secret service detail, conditioned to observe, noticed their differences first and stiffened, hands moving unintentionally towards their weapons. Seeing them tense, the president looked again. Even though they looked almost human, they were shorter than normal, barely coming up to Calvin’s chest, and their heads were far bigger. When he saw that all three of them had six fingers, he understood.

  “At ease,” he said to the secret service guards, figuring out who the newcomers were in a flash of intuition. “If these folks meant me any harm, I don’t think they’d have asked me here to talk.” He stood up and bowed. “Welcome! On behalf of the United States, I would like to welcome you to our planet. I am Bill Jacobs, the president of the United States.” He paused. “But of course, I’m sure you already knew that.”

  One of the two alien males stepped forward. “Greetings, Mr. President. I am Arges, and these are my friends Brontes (he nodded to the female, who bowed) and Steropes (who also bowed.) You are correct; we are the Psiclopes and we are from another planet. We are not the ‘Cyclopes’ as in the one-eyed monster, but ‘Psiclopes,’ as in ‘sees with the mind.’” Calvin had told him to explain it so that the president didn’t get confused, like Calvin had the first time he heard the name. Arges continued, “Thank you very much for coming here today. We would prefer that news of our presence did not get out to the rest of the world at the moment. It is unfortunate that we had to reveal ourselves to you this way, but we need your help.”