The Golden Viper

by Sean Robins

  “Why are you surprised?” asked Venom. “This was completely predictable.”

  Kurt narrowed his eyes. “May I ask why?”

  “I’m the president, and I have no obligation to justify myself to you. But for this one time: we’ve been contacted by the Xortaags. They say the attack on Earth was carried out without the approval of their government, and it was the action of an overzealous prince who’s now dead. They’ve offered a non-aggression treaty with us if we stay out of their war with these other aliens. Moreover, they’re offering compensation for the harm they caused us, in the form of providing us with new technological advancements. And the best part is they’ll remove that infernal satellite system from our orbit, which I might add your friend here can’t or doesn’t want to do.”

  Tarq, Oksana and I looked at each other, dumbfounded.

  “How can a human being be so freaking stupid?” asked Venom.

  “This is exactly what Hitler offered Russia before World War Two,” said Kurt. “And he attacked them the first chance he got.”

  “Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it,” said Oksana.

  “Hitler? Doom?” Jackson looked at them in bewilderment. “What the hell are you two babbling about?”

  Oksana looked disgusted. “Read some history. Or you know what, just read a book, any book, so you don’t always come off as an illiterate fool.”

  Jackson jumped to his feet. “You can’t talk to me like that! You’re lucky I don’t relieve you from your duties for your behavior today. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

  Juan patted his hand cannon. “I really, really want to use this.”

  We left under the heavy stare of the government officials and the guards. I was so mad that I thought about asking Cordi to light up the room. It would’ve been so satisfying, but it did sound a tad extreme.

  Once outside the building, Tarq asked, “What now?”

  I contacted Invincible. “Captain Wood? We’re coming up to you.”

  We’d just taken our seats in Invincible’s briefing room when Ella joined us.

  “We’re going to talk about treason,” I told her. “You might want to sit this one out.”

  “Why’re you doing it then?” she asked.

  “We can’t just watch and do nothing while Jackson screws up the whole galaxy,” I answered.

  “Well, we could,” said Kurt. “We could even justify it by saying we were following orders given by the legitimate government of Earth, and nobody would blame us. To tell you the truth, even I think we don’t have the authority to defy a democratically-elected president, but I understand there would be severe consequences if we listened to him.”

  Ella thought about it for a second. “The way I see it, it’ll be treason not to participate.”

  I loved her response. She’d been a Navy woman all her life, and making this decision couldn’t have been easy.

  I looked at my friends. Everyone was tense, and who could blame them? I closed my eyes for a second and tried to keep my anger under control. “OK. It looks like, for once, I’ll be doing most of the talking instead of Tarq, and I don’t need his fancy holographic movies either. Just my wits and eloquence.”

  “And humility,” murmured Tarq. He took out his pipe but put it back in his pocket after Ella gave him a pointed look.

  I continued, “I wish to raise two points: first of all, what we have here is a classic ‘Sokovia Accords’ argument.”

  Nobody bothered to ask what that was. They knew I’d tell them anyway.

  “This is the question: should superheroes submit to a civilian authority, or is it their responsibility to make the right choice regardless of what the politicians think? Captain America and I both think politicians having power over potential missions is a terrible idea. What if they make the wrong choice, or decide not to act at all?”

  “Did you just call yourself a superhero and compare yourself to Captain America?” Ella sounded incredulous.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Kurt told her.

  “He was like this even before Tarq convinced the universe that he’s the paragon of heroism and bravery,” added Cordelia.

  I didn’t dignify those remarks with an answer. They were just jealous. “The world has changed. The decisions made on Earth can now shape the galaxy, and they might have consequences like humanity’s extinction. I’m certain you all agree if we side with the Xortaags now, they’ll come and kill us all the first chance they get, and it’ll be impossible to stop them once they have the Akakie technology at their disposal. I submit to you that it’s our responsibility to make the right choice on behalf of humanity and don’t leave that to a two-bit, spineless politician like Jackson.”

  Tarq approved. “I could not have said it better myself.”

  “My second point is this: don’t you find Jackson’s 180-degree change in policy weird?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Kurt.

  “We know the Xortaags have all sorts of mental powers, like Xornaa, who can manipulate people with a simple touch.”

  “You think the Xortaags got to Jackson?” asked Oksana.

  “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Also, I got a very strong impression that Jackson was trying to snatch Tarq. That’s why he wanted our alien friend alone.”

  Everyone was silent for a minute. The idea of our president being under the Xortaags’ thumb was too terrible to digest easily.

  Then Kurt, playing with his goatee, shook his head. “Jim, I see your point, and believe me when I say I agree with you. But I just can’t condone a military coup. This goes against every fiber of my being and tarnishes my father’s legacy. We spent our entire lives working towards a united Earth ruled by a democratically-elected government.”

  “So let’s find the middle ground,” I said. “Not a coup, but not allowing Jackson, under the Xortaags’ control or on his own initiative, to destroy the galaxy either.”

  “We could use OMC-BOWS—” Tarq started to say.

  The six of us (Kurt, Oksana, Ella, Cordi, Venom, and I) shouted, “No!”

  “You guys are ready?” I asked.

  “Let’s do this,” Kurt said with a gleam in his eyes.

  Jackson’s image appeared on one of the wall-mounted monitors in Invincible’s briefing room. He was in the same conference room we’d met him earlier today, windows open this time. Some twenty other people were sitting around the conference table. I recognized Jackson’s head of security and a few army generals.

  “We’re all here,” said Jackson, trying his best to look confident and in charge. “What do you want?”

  “We want to make a few quick points, if it pleases the president,” I said politely.

  He made a get-on-with-it gesture.

  “What you fail to understand is things have changed since the minute the Xortaag fleet appeared on our orbit,” I said. “For example, you really don’t have any actual power. The people with power are sitting here in this room. Let me prove it to you.”

  A huge bomb appeared on the table right in the middle of Jackson’s conference room. He jumped out of his seat, eyes wide, face pale as a ghost. I wondered if, in his moment of panic, he remembered (or if he even knew to begin with) that SFD didn’t work on the surface, and the bomb was nothing but a projection. Several people in the room started screaming. One shouted, “Oh my God!”

  Tarq giggled. “Nope. That was me.”

  A few people rushed for the door, but they stopped dead when I calmly said, “This baby will go boom if anyone tries to leave.”

  Jackson held up his chin and stared at me through the camera. “You’re bluffing.” His shaking voice betrayed his inner turmoil.

  I laughed in his face. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I’ve just slaughtered eight billion people, and Kurt here singlehandedly killed half our previous government officials. You think I’ll hesitate a second to detonate that bomb?” I leaned forward and pulled a William Shatner. “Sit. The. Fuck. Down.
”

  He sank back into his seat. I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing all the way from orbit. Putting him in his place was so satisfying.

  “We’re here to make a few announcements,” I continued. “Three, in fact. One, effective immediately, the fleet and the Marines will operate independent of Earth’s civilian government and in coordination with the Akakie fleet. You have no authority over us.”

  I looked at Tarq, who said, “Two, we have awarded Akakie citizenship to both Colonel Jim Harrison and Colonel Kurt von der Hagen, which means they are under our protection. If anything happens to them, if they are shot or arrested, killed in a car accident or die by a sudden disease—heck, if a comet falls on them—there will be severe consequences, starting with us taking back the shiny new fleet we gave you.”

  Jackson looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

  Tarq chuckled. “You did not think we gave you all those fancy ships without taking the precaution of writing a self-destruct code into them, did you? I would like to see you negotiate with the Xortaags without a fleet to back you up.”

  “And three,” said Kurt, “let me give you a lesson in democracy. Tarq?”

  Tarq had never looked happier than this moment. He touched his PDD. “This is going to break the Internet.”

  Kurt’s image appeared on another monitor. He said, “Citizens of Earth. I don’t think I need to remind anyone that our planet was occupied by the Xortaags until just recently, when we defeated them with the Akakies’ help. President Jackson came to power promising revenge against the Xortaags, who had killed seven hundred million of us. And now, this.”

  His image was replaced by a holographic recording of our last meeting with Jackson in the government headquarters, specifically the part where he told us about his plans to sign a non-aggression treaty with the Xortaags.

  Kurt came back to the screen. “The Xortaags aren’t the forgive-and-forget type. They’ll come for us as soon as they deal with the Akakies. If you disagree with this decision, voice your concern. Contact your local representatives and demand President Jackson be held accountable for his actions. Civil disobedience might go a long way in making the president change his mind too.”

  Tarq rubbed his palms together. “There is nothing I love more than kicking the hornet’s nest.”

  People took to the streets when they heard Kurt’s message, first in the thousands, then in the millions. Demonstrations were held all over the planet. Protesters clashed with security forces on several occasions. Jackson was stupid enough to try to use force. In Kiev, some soldiers opened fire on people from the top of a government building. Half an hour later, that building didn’t exist, replaced by a crater ten feet deep. Maybe I was turning into a bloodthirsty maniac, after all.

  Jackson’s government didn’t last forty-eight hours. He fled, and his successor hastily reaffirmed Earth’s commitment to the alliance with the Akakies against the Xortaags and promised a new election within six months.

  “People will choose another clueless idiot as president,” I said with my usual optimism.

  “No worries,” said Kurt. “We’ll be here to look after them.”

  9

  Voltex

  Standard Galactic Year: 5266

  (Earth Year: 3199)

  Shartan knew he was about to die.

  The healers had given up on him weeks ago, but he had been stubbornly clinging to life. What kept him going was his need to see if his brother’s plan to send the Vox back in time to kill off the carbon-based aliens worked. If not, he had bankrupted their already broken economy for nothing.

  His brother, too old and fragile to hover anymore, was pushed into the lazaretto room by two of his assistants, followed by some Vox chieftains. Shartan studied their faces closely. “I guess I do not need to ask you how the experiment went.”

  Fartaz beamed. “Better than our most optimistic projections. The Latoors could not offer any meaningful resistance. We completely wiped them out.”

  “And in our side of the funnel?” asked the Supreme Leader.

  “They are gone, as if they never existed. Everyone in their galaxy is freaking out about it.”

  “Did they suspect our involvement?”

  Fartaz laughed. “How could we possibly be involved? Us, the poor, backward Volts?”

  This was the first time Shartan had seen his brother laugh since Pandar was destroyed.

  Everyone was quiet for a minute. Then the Supreme Leader said, “You did it, brother.”

  “Well, not yet,” said the scientist. “This was just a test. We now have to send the Vox back to commence the real operation, and as I said before, it will take them years to finish it, even though for us it will be only a few minutes. We have to provide them with enough supplies to last a decade.”

  Shartan shook his body. “While half of our population is starving to death.”

  “In a few months, you could wake up to a world without any carbon-based aliens. Is it not worth it?”

  “I will not be alive in a few months,” Shartan replied flatly. “And, unfortunately, it is.”

  “By the way, I am going with the Vox,” said Fartaz.

  That surprised the Supreme Leader. “Why? You are not a warrior, and even if you were, what would you do in your age?”

  “I want to watch the alien planets burn,” said Fartaz. “I have earned that much.”

  10

  Kanoor

  Standard Galactic Date: 059.03.5073

  (Earth Date: 05/05/2049)

  “So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “And, for crying out loud, there’s no need for sophisticated holographic videos describing the current situation. We all know what’s at stake.”

  Our “war council” had gathered in Invincible’s briefing room. Tarq, for once, wasn’t wearing something flashy, just his usual white tux and feathered cap. It told me how distraught he was because of the fall of Kanoor. That, and his old habit of biting his nails. The rest of us were in uniform, including Barook, who had apparently been promoted since the last time we saw him.

  Tarq completely ignored me and my request, of course. The stupid alien was in love with the sound of his own voice. Or it could be revenge for me not letting him smoke aboard our starship.

  “Here is the situation,” he said. “Maada lost a few hundred ships while invading Kanoor, but he still has more than eighteen thousand of those new Deathbringers under his command. Our fleet consists of the almost ten thousand space fighters that were on Earth and nearly four thousand ships that escaped Kanoor. I want to take this opportunity to go on record protesting your decision to man the fleet entirely by human pilots.” He gave me a hurt look.

  I rubbed my temple. Tarq was a brilliant strategist, the best in the universe even, but he still harbored some weird hope that his people would somehow learn how to fight. With the fate of the universe in the balance, we had to vote against having Akakie pilots on this mission. Even Barook had voted against him. We’d also decided not to bring the old Vipers, given that they were no match for the new Deathbringers. I wouldn’t send people to suicide missions if I could help it.

  “There are twenty-five million Xortaag soldiers on the planet,” Tarq said, “while we barely have five thousand Marines. Even if we could somehow get past Maada and his fleet and put boots on the ground, there would still be no way we could take Kanoor back, and it would be only a matter of time before the Xortaags found something down there that would change the balance of power in the galaxy forever.”

  “Yes, yes, we know. We are outgunned and outnumbered, and our situation is completely hopeless,” I said, playing with my wedding ring. “Now tell us your brilliant plan.”

  “I’d like to point out the balance of power has already changed,” said Kurt. “The Xortaags have the upper hand, and because we failed to convince any other species to join us, we are all that’s standing between them and the domination of the galaxy.”

  “Which brings us to Tarq’s brilliant plan,” I said
impatiently.

  “There are two points I must clarify before moving forward. First, there is nothing physically wrong with us Akakies; in fact, given our exoskeleton, we are pretty strong. We simply do not have the mental fortitude to fight. And secondly, as I have mentioned before, all Akakies have weapons at their homes, like the Americans.”

  “Well, more like the Canadians,” said Ella, “since apparently you never use them.”

  “Look who’s developing a sense of humor,” said Venom.

  She probably got it from me, I answered. My awesomeness is contagious.

  Venom rolled his eyes.

  Tarq continued, “Now I am going to tell you something that only two people in the world know. It used to be three, but our president was killed during the invasion, so now it is only Barook and I. We have built our own OMC-BOWS, and now it is active on Kanoor’s orbit.”

  “Why the hell would you do that?” I asked, astonished.

  Kurt narrowed his eyes. “You were planning to use it against your own people.”

  “There had been some unrest on our planet, even talk of a revolution. OMC-BOWS is perfect to control people.”

  “We’re so going to find a way to remove that thing from Earth’s orbit,” I growled.

  “So here is the plan: Barook and I will go down to the surface with a small team of the Commandos—”

  “The Marines,” Kurt corrected him.

  “I obviously must go; my telepathic abilities might be very useful,” said Xornaa. “But why you two?”

  “Because only we can operate the machine’s controls,” said Tarq. “Biometrics.”

  “And we must both go, in case one of us does not make it,” added Barook.

  I didn’t remember these guys being so brave before.

  “Where’re the MFM controls located?” asked Oksana.

  “There are catacombs underneath the presidential palace. The controls are hidden there,” answered Tarq. “We would use OMC-BOWS to tell our people they are the strongest, bravest warriors in history, and they must attack the Xortaags. Now, unlike the last times we pulled this trick, the Xortaags will not be completely surprised because security is super tight and they are watching the local inhabitants closely—no Voice of God to give them a false sense of security this time. Still, there are a thousand Akakies for every Xortaag, who are still armed with those pathetic energy weapons. Our people should be able to take the planet back rather quickly.”