The First War

by Reg Franklin

  “Let me drop all pretense, ambassador.” Stragdoc drew out the title, delivering it as if the feel of the word in his mouth disgusted him. “When I discovered my unique evolution, I found a way to share it with others. However, the world is slow to embrace radical change, always has been, always will be. Some flaw in the human genome. So in order to prove my superiority over the common person, I took the steps that have led to this point. I have been laying the groundwork for this war for longer than you have been alive. Because when we win, all will have to see that my personal meritocracy is best. That only I am truly fit to lead humanity into a new golden age of expansion, perhaps even conquest depending on who else is out there in the universe. And it will be glorious.”

  Mueller took another step back from the grinning maniac. “You are exactly what the people of Earth feared: an insane megalomaniac.”

  Stragdoc’s face grew pensive. “Maybe. Maybe they are right. But there is certainly one thing I’m not.”

  He paused there, forcing Mueller to ask. “And what is that?”

  “I’m not the one standing in front of an airlock.”

  Mueller felt the telekinetic impact of Stragdoc shoving him backwards break several of his ribs. He could only stare in horror as the interior door slid down. The lunatic face of the vessel’s mad captain leered at him through a small porthole in the door as he was expelled into the freezing blackness of pure vacuum.

  His last coherent thoughts were to curse himself for his foolishness in trusting the grinning lunatic, and a prayer for the people of Earth.

  ---

  Stragdoc returned to his quarters, a decided spring to his step. Calixta was waiting for him, clad in a sheer robe, hair damp from a shower.

  “What did the Ambassador want, darling?”

  “He confessed to planning sedition against me.” Stragdoc admitted, nonchalantly. “So I was forced to action.”

  Calixta nodded. “A pity. I rather liked Mueller.”

  They moved to the vast window, spotting the frozen corpse becoming gripped by lunar gravity, spiralling towards the planetoid. A moment later Calixta’s robe was on the floor, as they made their way to bed.

  III.

  21.

  When Calixta returned to the Antarctic base, it was with a new title. “Empress. Welcome back.” Parsyns greeted her.

  The ceremony had taken place a week before, broadcast on all frequencies. Following the nuptials, Calixta had made a speech, condemning the humans for needlessly arresting her, and attempting to assassinate her beloved. For many on both the Chancel as well as the planet, this was the first they had heard of the assassin, and the Global Alliance came down particularly hard on the Americans’ rogue operation.

  Aside from controlling her powers, Paul had also taught her the value of chaos. In addition, she was an especially quick study.

  Commander Karman had accompanied her again to the surface for this final test of the prototype engine. “Have your men prepared the security procedures I sent ahead of our arrival?”

  Parsyns nodded. “Of course. We would not dream of endangering her Highness.”

  “Good. My husband would have accompanied us; however other matters required his immediate attention.” She entered the hanger in order to escape the cold. More psionic children were being born on board the vessel, and as a temporary solution Stragdoc had found a way to essentially “lock off” their powers for a time. She had objected briefly, and then understood the necessity; a child with developing emotional control, possessing unheard of mental abilities, in a vessel in orbit around the moon...it was a recipe for complete disaster.

  “At any rate, I wish to have this demonstration completed in short order. The new engine is ready for assembly, we merely await confirmation that it won't explode upon activation.”

  “Of course, Empress. Let me assure you that we are taking all necessary precautions to ensure the engine’s viability.” Parsyns nodded sycophantically.

  Karman, looking around, nodded confidently in approval of the armed guards present. “Should any harm come to her Highness, your guards’ lives are forfeit. Understood?”

  Parsyns swallowed nervously. “Yes, Commander.”

  “Let's not waste any time, I wish to return to the Chancel as soon as possible.” Calixta strode towards the prototype vessel. “Your pilot is confident in their ability to fly this?”

  Parsyns nodded again. “Yes ma'am. I’ll be performing the test flight.”

  Calixta turned to face him. “Such bravery. If this succeeds, you will accompany me home and be named a hero of the Empire.” She beamed warmly. Parsyns blushed in response.

  “What flight plan do you intend?” Karman asked, reviewing the monitoring equipment.

  “Once I clear the atmosphere, I’ll engage warp...fold...uh, hyperspace? I don’t know what the preferred term is? Anyway, I’ll kick in the engine for a trip past neptune, take a few vids of the area, and return to Earth orbit.”

  “Excellent. The test is scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning.” Calixta proclaimed. “Make us proud, Director Parsyns.”

  His chest puffed proudly, the test pilot saluted and hurried back to work. Calixta and Karman retired to their quarters, not noticing the red haired woman wearing welding goggles.

  After all, Calixta had sworn to kill the blonde-haired Jennifer Safyo. This woman could not possibly be her.

  ---

  Jennifer had arrived in Antarctica about a week prior, forged documentation in hand stating that she was a deep cover Imperial agent named Jane Tessier...and had not needed it. The base had been too preoccupied watching the broadcast of the Stragdoc/Morsalis nuptuals. So instead, she simply added her alias to a list of recent transfers from the Chancel, sent to assist in final construction of the prototype vessel.

  A ship that she had fallen in love with. She had no idea who had designed the sleek vessel (although she knew the engines were a product of Edward Simms, chief engineer aboard the Chancel), but she had made a decision early on after arriving here.

  When she left, she was taking that ship. She knew from looking through communication logs that taking it would not stop the engine design from being installed aboard Paul’s orbital dystopia; she wanted it for herself. It called to her the way cars called to people when she was in school.

  Parsyns would perform his test, and then she was going to help herself. She had earned herself a little treat since Toronto.

  22.

  The morning in Antarctica was crisp, clear, and of course, cold. John Parsyns completed triple checking the systems aboard the prototype craft, then stepped out to address the crowd of inventors, technicians, and the Empress.

  “Ah, l-ladies. And. Um...gentlemen?” Parsyns was not much of a public speaker. Hated it, in fact. Nevertheless, for the first faster-than-light journey, he had to say something. “Today, we, ah, take another step towards g-greatness. Many writers and, uh, filmmakers tried to predict w-what our first manned flight to the, uh, edge of our solar system would be l-like; well, here we are.”

  He cleared his throat nervously. “So. Ah. Without further delay, I will be next seeing you from the far side of Pluto.” That last bit in a rush, he virtually ran back on board the ship.

  “Make sure to edit that to remove his stutter before its inclusion in the archives.” Calixta ordered. Sure, it was being tight-beam transmitted to the Chancel, but that did not mean future generations needed to be subjected to Parsyns case of stage fright.

  The ceiling of the hanger smoothly retracted, the prototype vessel smoothly lifting upwards. “VTOL capability checks out.” Parsyns recorded on board. Every step of the maiden voyage needed to be catalogued in case of catastrophic failure.

  Not that he expected any.

  At all.

  He hoped there wasn't.

  The large craft began breaking through the upper atmosphere, stars shining through the canopy. Parsyns had not been to space yet, and he gave himself a moment to appreciate the beauty, the majest
y, the vastness of it all. “Calculating for transit to Pluto…” He spoke to the empty cabin. The computer took about 30 seconds.

  “Calculations complete. Vector available for five minutes before recalculation necessary.” The synthesized voice spoke from the computer speaker.

  “Cycling up engines…” Parsyns breathed. The ship began to hum around him. “Drive engaging in 15 seconds…”

  Back on the surface, from separate parts of the base, both Calixta and Jennifer watched the long-range scanner feeds being broadcast across Antarctica. In a moment, the ship would simply disappear from their scopes, the plan being for Parsyns to take some close scans of the dwarf planet, and then return within fifteen minutes.

  The time came, and the ship vanished. Jennifer crossed her fingers, but knew if it did not return, it would be for the best anyway. She silently chided herself for her greed in wanting the ship, knowing that if it did indeed return, Paul Stragdoc would have faster-than-light technology. And she dreaded to think what he might do with it.

  Calixta sat stock still in the main hanger, trying to get a glimpse into the future. Paul had explained the necessity of having a backup plan in case a hasty withdrawal from the solar system was required, but she did not think it likely. After all, the humans did not even know about -

  Fire, everything burning. A set of numbers, co-ordinates? Earth fighters unloading ordinance against the base she now sat in. Red hair, she had red hair now, the bitch was here and told the humans they were here, they were coming to kill them all-

  The force of the vision caused Calixta to black out. People scrambled to figure out why the Empress had collapsed. Karman checked her pulse, found it steady. “Get her to the infirmary, now!” He bellowed.

  The few technicians who remained at their posts almost did not notice the vessel materialize back into being above them. Parsyns had returned successfully, but the Empress’s condition took priority.

  23.

  Jennifer hid in the main hanger. She had seen the vessel transition back to realspace, but had also felt the surge of psionic energy. She was not sure exactly what had happened, but there had been some kind of psychic backlash from whatever had driven Morsalis into unconsciousness; Jennifer had a splitting headache as a result.

  But there was something else: she had felt Paul's mind direct itself at the installation after whatever had happened. She had done what she could to mask herself from him, but did not know if it had been enough. But she did know one thing.

  He was coming.

  She did not know if it was her presence, Morsalis’ blackout, the successful test, or some other factor, but he was inbound. Moreover, Jennifer was not ready for a face-to-face encounter with him yet.

  Therefore, she would need a distraction to facilitate her escape. Running for the cooling prototype vessel, her face split in a grin as she came up with a doozy.

  ---

  “I need an update on her condition NOW.” Stragdoc snarled at the communications array on the shuttle. Tilial Dalth suppressed a shiver of terror at the force of the Emperor’s rage. It filled the small ship like a cloud of chlorine gas, all but suffocating her.

  Upon hearing that the Empress had taken ill somehow, she had volunteered instantly to fly him to the surface personally. In addition, she regretted it. She would never felt this kind of effect in his presence before, and it terrified her.

  “Heart rate, brain activity all show as normal, sir. Whatever happened, she's recovering.” A tinny voice nervously responded from the speaker. Dalth felt the cloud of anger subside somewhat.

  “Good. Good. That's good. We will be on the surface shortly. Ensure I have a clear path to my wife. Anyone in my way shall regret it.”

  “I’m sure she's fine, sir.” Dalth murmured, trying to further calm the raging storm.

  “Just fly, Tilial. ETA to Site A?” He ground out.

  “Less than three minutes, sir.”

  Dalth felt a hand on her shoulder. “Admiral, forgive me. You are not responsible for Calixta's current condition, it is wrong for me to treat you as if you were.” The Emperor’s voice was much more measured, calm.

  She looked over at him. “I understand, sir. You're worried.”

  More than Dalth realized, in fact. Stragdoc's mind was racing. Had his tinkering with her mind to increase her power done this? But how to explain that weird echo he’d detected within the psionic surge he’d felt? How was that even possible? The only explanation that made any sense was if an equally powerful psychic entity was there, and while Karman was indeed powerful, Calixta was stronger, which only meant…

  No. Stragdoc's eyes widened in shock and rage as his mind began connecting dots. Grabbing the communications array, he snarled, “Lock down the base, now! Send a list of new arrivals at the site to me immediately.”

  As the text file scrolled onto his screen, Dalth shouted something about an unidentified craft firing at them. Stragdoc tuned her out as he put the pieces together. That hated voice that he now heard broadcasting on all frequencies confirmed what he was already thinking.

  “To any Global Alliance members monitoring these frequencies, the Psi-Omegan Empire has a secret base on Earth. Coordinates are…”

  Dalth risked looking at her passenger. The look of unadulterated hatred on her master’s face immediately made her wish she had not. “S-sir? Do I return fire?”

  “Give. Me. The. Helm. NOW.” Stragdoc bit out. Taking control of the vessel, he twisted the ship to turn the tables on their pursuer. Sighting the prototype, Stragdoc mentally seized control of the shuttle’s weapons, opening fire; then tried to telekinetically grab the prototype, but felt the other vessel’s occupant mentally swat his grasping mind away.

  “Sir? Your wife?” Dalth whispered. “They’ll be coming for all our people…”

  Eyes wild, the Emperor turned to face her, and then nodded. Composing himself. “Land this thing, signal the evacuation. I want all our shuttles getting those people out of there.”

  Most of them. He mentally corrected. At least one would die here. Well, at least one of his own people.

  24.

  The Psi-Omegan Emperor, Paul Stragdoc, strode through the facility as his people scrambled to gather what they could before fleeing to the Chancel. No one dared cross his path as he marched to the infirmary. There, he found John Parsyns awaiting his arrival. He looked terrified as Stragdoc marched past him into his wife’s room. He was in there less than 30 seconds before coming back out to face the first man to complete a faster-than-light trip.

  “S-sir, I-I-I….” Parsyns stammered repeatedly, unsure of how to face his master.

  “How was your trip, John? Educational I trust?” the calm voice sounded around him. “Did you enjoy seeing the furthest reaches of our solar system?”

  Parsyns found his voice still locked up, not able to respond.

  “I hope you did. Believe it or not, I really do.” Stragdoc smiled at him.

  It was not a pleasant smile.

  “Because when I gave control of this facility to you, it was with an understanding that infiltration by outside forces would not be tolerated under any circumstances.”

  Parsyns looked even more panicked. The fear radiated off him like a halo.

  “And what do you do? You let someone with a flimsy, under the best of circumstances, disguise in, and allow her to work on the prototype vessel, all but allow her to attempt an assassination of my wife, and then allow that same individual to fly off with that prototype, alerting the entire world to our presence here.”

  The smell of urine hit the air as Parsyns wet himself in terror.

  “Now tell me John...do you have any excuse for this? Any reason I should not tear your heart from your chest with my bare hands? I don’t care how flimsy it is, I want to hear it so stop your stuttering and speak up you damn coward!” The Emperor had him by the shirtfront, his face an inch from Parsyns’, spittle spraying over the engineer’s face.

  “We…we distracted, the records show she
arrived the day of your wedding, it was a state event, everyone was watching, she must have altered the records when she got here and-” Parsyns let out in a rush.

  “And did you even think to double check her assignment here when you didn’t recognize her??” Stragdoc’s eyes held the terrified man’s in their unblinking gaze. “Hm? Didn’t think to call the Chancel to say ‘Hey, there’s this woman, Jane Tessier, records say she’s supposed to be here, but I don’t remember getting a file on her, is she actually one of ours?’ you brain-dead moron.”

  Parsyns’ feet left the floor, the only sound in the room being the dripping of liquid from his leg to the pool beneath him.

  “And because of that laziness, that indescribable stupidity on your part, not only has my wife been injured, but this entire facility and everyone in it is in danger of being ashes within a few hours.” Parsyns now felt enormous pressure on the sides of his head. The Emperor had released his shirtfront, he was now being telekinetically held aloft. Remembering the tales of what Stragdoc had done to that one guard in London increased his terror.