Cavalry

by Thorby Rudbek

  “Three heavy duty Arshonnan laser pistols and one Narlav laser rifle. All fully charged.”

  “Remember, we have to let them go past,” she whispered, fingering the infrared goggles that would let them see in the dark. To have two weapons each… Oh, ’Zac! She shivered at the thought of the deadly determination she sensed in her normally peaceful husband. Let us survive, oh God, let us make it through this insanity!

  “They could’ve tried to blast the hangar with their ship-board lasers, if they’d wanted to wipe it out,” Isaac reminded her as he took her in his arms and held her tightly, sensing her extreme apprehension. He crushed her against himself, the sensation of togetherness he desired for both his wife and himself muted by the warm, thick coats they both were wearing. He leaned back after a minute, keeping as much of the reassuring contact as he could, but enabling eye-to-eye communication. “But… they must want our Patrol Craft production facility, as Terry surmised, and that desire will be their downfall. Remember how we hurt them on Mars, though all we had to fight with was a bunch of Gravity Inducers and an infra-red laser. We can do this. We must.”

  On Mars there were only two of them… Ruth managed a small nod, too scared for further conversation, recalling her brief experience of New York street fighting, after Sophie had saved the day by demolishing the foyer of Terry’s apartment building. She thought of the terribly injured bodies piled around her and how they had been saved with the magical aid of the Medic, just feet away. No such a restart here… if we go, we go. Better make the end, if it must be an end, together… She turned away as Isaac released her. Even better still, let’s survive! The first Narlav ground troops were now coming into view on their viewscreen, marching directly towards their hideout. Suddenly the image changed, brightened, took on an eerie emerald glow. A moment later a text along the edge of each deployed screen informed the scattered defenders that some kind of aerial illuminators had been launched by the Narlavs, and the entire area was now bathed in brightness akin to that of a major football stadium.

  “Steady.” The radio message sounded in their ears. “Goggles were just rendered unnecessary!” It was Terry’s calm voice, and that unsettled her even more.

  Narlavs, clad in their fluffy spacesuits as protection against the cold, but without facemasks and air-spheres, marched with their bird-like leg movements towards the distant hangar, their shadows like blackness below and behind them in the brilliant green light. Ruth and Isaac could see at least a couple of hundred on their one viewscreen, and they knew that the same scene was being played out on a hundred other viewscreens around the perimeter they had planned to defend.

  Something was floating towards the forward edge of the approaching Narlav warriors, poorly visible in the glare of the battle illuminations. Further back, a number of other airborne objects could now be detected in the temporarily snow-free air.

  Isaac grimaced as he recognised the nearest one – a Narlav warrior, suspended, somehow, like a sentry, ten metres overhead, and pointed out this additional complication to his wife.

  “I bet he has a great view!” Ruth’s voice was low and scared.

  “He’ll make a great target, too…”

  The ‘two Georges’ watched their viewscreen, itching to try out the Narlav laser rifles they had chosen – on their designers.

  “Remember, use it like a machine gun. They should slice up easily!” George Pendle grinned as he contemplated the mayhem he would create.

  “And they have the exact same weapons, so keep behind the thickest cover, or you will be partitioned like a pizza, too,” Paul George murmured back, though he, too, could feel his excitement rising, threatening to explode.

  The gung-ho pair kept their eyes steady on the viewscreen, wondering if the muffled tramp of feet on hard-packed, icy snow would ever end.

  Terry watched from a location about half way between the Georges and the Hardys. He had two viewscreens: one gave him a view of the street past his chosen stone-built cottage, and the other provided imagery that was relayed from the series of orbiting monitors and gave him a bird’s-eye view of the town, the airstrip and the hangar. He felt very worried regarding the action that was about to begin; he had seen that the Warrnam had only touched down for a minute, at most, yet what looked like an entire corps had poured forth. These troops had spread out, breaking into squads of sixteen and marching quickly towards their target. They were already completing the encirclement of the nearer subdivisions of the town, the hangar and the airstrip. A small number of aerial warriors skimmed around, above the marching masses.

  His arm ached. He grinned, aware of the psychological explanation for this phantom phenomenon. If they slice it off again, I’ll just get it Restored, like last time!

  Tony Holt, crouched low on the floor next to Terry, saw him grin and his heart rate eased down fractionally. This guy already faced-off against two Narlavs and an entire Warrnam! He kept going, even when they sliced off his arm… If he can handle this, then…. He pulled the Arshonnan laser pistol closer, finding the smooth surface comforting, though he sensed it indirectly through his custom-fitted, mini-Medic produced gloves. He looked at the plan view, noting that the advance units were getting very close to the hangar and that Terry would have to make his move in a few moments, or he would be too late to prevent their entry into this incredibly valuable real estate.

  Patricia crouched low, her mother pressed up close behind her in the space between two rather ancient cars. It was apparent that these vehicles had been queued for routine repairs at the local service station; they had been left in the side garage just hours or days before the arctic conditions had rendered all such ground transportation unusable for an indeterminate duration. Seems worlds apart, now… What with the weather or the lack of people, they are still sitting here. Patricia tensed as she considered one possible outcome of their amateur defence attempts. Maybe forever…

  Like twins, their faces, hair and outfits matched and each grasped the same Arshonnan style of laser pistol, waiting for the moment when the Narlavs would discover the disposition of the opposition awaiting them.

  “The biggest thing I’ve ever killed was a wasp,” Pat began in her low, mellow voice as she continued to contemplate the impending battle. “Oh, why did they have to come?”

  “We had rats in our basement when I was a little girl.” Jennifer, her mother murmured into her ear, not even attempting to answer that unfathomable question. “I hated it whenever I found one in a trap, especially if it wasn’t quite dead yet. I had nightmares for years afterwards.”

  “I try to think of the Narlavs as wasps.” The daughter continued to vocalise her thought process. “But it doesn’t work, ‘cos all I can see is a whole lot of blocky-looking guys like Paranak. I know him. I like him!”

  “Just think of Spencer, back in the hangar, waiting next to Dad with our last line of defence, them having to stop the Narlavs, if we don’t succeed. They mustn’t get to him.” Mrs. Norrington sounded fierce even though she was whispering.

  Patricia turned and looked at her mother’s face, amazed to see the power portrayed there. “Mom, you are so strong. When you were fighting the cancer, I decided that you were my ultimate hero. I still think you are.”

  “Maybe.” Jennifer kissed her daughter on the cheek, moved by this declaration. “This is harder.”

  Only because Tracy fixed it… Pat thought, as she had so many times before, of the other patients she had seen at the cancer clinic, the ones that had looked like living corpses …before it got even worse…

  “Don’t think about that.” Mrs. Norrington seemed almost to have Kirrina’s talent for mind reading, as she interpreted her daughter’s expression. “Just picture Spencer. He must live; he’s too young to die… and too many others like him have already gone. There’s no one else to fight this battle; it’s up to us – we must stop them!”

  Penny-Lee hugged Jane fiercely, wishing she could do a couple of flips to release the pent-up energy she had inside her.


  “We are just supposed to get them from behind, surprise them. Terry said it’s ok to do that with rampaging aliens invading your planet, determined to wipe you all out!”

  Jane smiled back and touched Penny-Lee’s golden hair where it showed at the edge of the hood of her ultra-warm winter jacket. “Seems a bit like the recent history of my homeland, the land of my birth – except this time the ‘blondies’ and the ‘darkies’ are all on the same side.”

  Penny-Lee mimed a blow to the side of Jane’s head. “All except Paranak. He’s on our side and he doesn’t have any hair at all!” She moved over to the back door of the tiny old house they had commandeered and looked out at the view of the hangar in the distance, now that the Narlav illuminations made everything clearly visible again. She pulled back into the interior gloom as Narlavs appeared around the end of a building a few hundred metres away, walking diagonally towards the GAF hangar.

  “Soon, very soon.” Jane murmured from behind her, as she looked at the viewscreen and saw the latest text from Terry displayed along the top. “Mister Stadt says there are a few warriors equipped with some kind of jet packs, flying overhead. We must get them first, as they will be able to direct the ground troops towards us, as soon as we start firing.”

  Both Captain Sylvia Osgood’s military background and her recent experiences meant that she was well-prepared for battle. She crouched low, together with her taller comrade, Flying Officer Violet Wordsworth, one of the other military survivors evacuated from Cold Lake AFB. At least here I won’t be fighting my own deranged countrymen, only these domineering Narlav invaders!

  Wordsworth’s new but rapidly developing friendship with the communications specialist Leroy Fraser was an unexpected but appreciated compensatory benefit of her relocation from Canada. She was, however, frustrated by her ‘grounding’ – her nearly four years of experience in Canadian Air Force fixed-wing aircraft meant that she had been considered as a Patrol Craft pilot, but older and more experienced pilots had inevitably been selected. If I can’t fight them in the air, then of course I’ll fight them on the ground. Bring it on!

  Osgood could tell how keyed up the warrior woman beside her was becoming; her own battle experience in Cold Lake had turned theory into reality for her… she knew what she could expect of herself, was comfortable with the determination now cast, like steel, into her very sinews.

  They awaited the command to dash out from the deep hollow they had sculpted in a snow drift behind the remains of an old barn, to fulfil the directive to commence the elimination of a large number of Narlavs – as many as they could.

  Just watch us! Sylvia flexed her shoulders, moved her feet and breathed long, slow, deep breaths.

  “Come on! Give us the signal, mon!” Violet Wordsworth muttered as she glanced back at the viewscreen to confirm that the last of the warriors had passed their icy hideout. She looked up at the grey-green, bottom-illuminated clouds, seemingly full of snow but contrarily holding back the concealing virtues of the Mecuba-generated weather, thinking of the space battle that was already in progress, far beyond the realms where she ever had flown, in more peaceful or at least unapprised times. She shifted her Arshonnan heavy-duty laser pistol from one gloved hand to the other; she had practiced using this weapon so thoroughly that she was equally proficient with either hand. She looked ahead, then looked briefly upwards again. Leroy, give ’em ‘hell’, but come back to me! I’ll be here to greet you when you get back…. I promise.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Many conquests, much destruction… memories alone survive

  “Come on down!” Sophie Trathad looked up at Enid Schroder’s face, noting the lock of curly brown hair showing at the left side of her hood.

  Enid, still facing away from the incoming hordes, waved, catching the attention of Keri Sharif at the side door of the all-important hangar. The Californian beauty raised a gleaming laser pistol high over her head before backing through the door and closing it.

  “Who would think of constructing something like this?” Mrs. Schroder commented after she had jumped down, landing with knees bent. She was impressed with the deepness of the hole her new friend had engineered in the tarmac – or was it the grass – surrounding the centre of the defenders efforts. “You really were in the Resistance, weren’t you!”

  “Mais oui!” Sophie rapped on the sheet of Hybralloy jammed into the upper part of the hole. It’s nice to have some armour plate, this time! “Rule one: catch them by surprise; rule two: don’t give them time to think.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Enid helped her raise the second sheet into position. “What holds it in place?”

  “I warmed all three sheets with the laser as you passed them down. The snow will glue them like epoxy in this weather.” Sophie reached for the final sheet and let Enid shove it against the snowbank.

  Enid breathed out, glad that their armoured hideout was completed and amazed that the gorgeous French girl would think nothing of proposing this last-ditch lair, collecting the needed components and cutting the hole, seemingly moments before the enemy was about to come into view.

  “We’ll put our camera on the edge…” Sophie demonstrated by her actions. “Voila!” The display she pulled from her jacket showed a panoramic view of the approach – though nothing could be seen it in it as yet. She breathed on the back and held the unit against the central panel for a moment. “Froide est cool!”

  “What happens now?” Mrs. Schroder shook her head and grinned nervously.

  “You tell me about your nephew, Richard… before he met Karen.”

  Enid looked surprised.

  “It’s like learning about myself,” Mrs. Trathad explained, “before the war.”

  Enid nodded, paused to collect her thoughts and began with an apology. “He was only with me three days, really, and two of those he was at school, but I’ll do my best.”

  Sophie watched the wise blue eyes as Enid launched into her account. She’ll be better for this, as will I – and the time for action will come soon enough! She had positioned herself so that she could watch the small screen, but her body blocked her younger and very unwarlike friend’s view of it. Then we shall show them how we treat invaders!

  ***

  The distant battle continued to bluster, blast and blunder haphazardly around Earth; consequently it took far longer than Richard had anticipated or desired for his ship and PCs Eight and Sixteen to close on the scene of continuing destruction.

  “Final Shell down, weapons still inoperative – turbo again, now, Glenn!” Captain Wodder’s gruff voice from PC Fourteen announced and commanded. There was a mighty flash in the distance and the approaching Citadel and PC Eight, of one mind courtesy the Beckie-Kirrina link, engaged their double Drive turbo-boosts to close faster on the battle area, leaving PC Sixteen far behind, incapable of daring such an act without risking the incapacitation of its Drive.

  “Weapons back on line!” Wodder’s gruff voice snarled in triumph.

  Kirrina grinned as she realised this message from PC Fourteen meant the flash from an obliterated craft was a Narlav loss, not the loss of another of Earth’s defence fleet, but before her grin could climax, yet another flash split the image of Earth.

  Richard operated the scanners as they came back on line after the overload, tweaking the displays back into action, finding only one Patrol Craft left in the view ahead. One Patrol Craft with two Warrnam still close by, purple and green beams and bolts scattered around and between them like some kind of truly deadly Halloween decoration that must never be brought too close.

  Kirrina reached out with Beckie as the range shortened and found the mental presence of Leroy still there, though his focus seemed to be on flying, and discovered also an accompanying cerebral image of Baynes, from Fraser’s thoughts, the pilot-leader slumped over his control area, which clarified the reason for this change of duty. No indication of Eric’s consciousness could be detected by the twinned minds as they sought for him, and Leroy did not h
ave any similar depiction of him in his conscious mind; Eric had to be either dead or – hopefully – merely out cold. Keep dodging, we are coming up fast!

  Brad found that his Patrol Craft had capriciously surged slightly ahead of Citadel as the turbo-boost ended with a final burst of power, and Tracy and Beckie, taking advantage of this serendipitous happening, started to fire at the nearest Warrnam. Moments later, Richard brought his weapons to bear on the other ship and was pleased to hear Sanders, PC Sixteen’s Captain, announce that he and Wing, his Navigator, had restored their Shells to full functionality and that Longclaw, their Pilot, was applying maximum acceleration, though they were still several minutes behind them and well out of range.

  The Kirrina / Beckie combination, close enough to ‘hear’ increasingly well across the intervening few miles, caught the exasperation in Leroy’s mind as another of PC Ten’s rapidly diminishing supply of Shells went down. Dodge, man, dodge!

  Brad, his ship still slightly ahead of Citadel, audaciously flew PC Eight in between the second Warrnam and PC Ten, blocking the N-beams with his PC and almost immediately losing his vessel’s outer Shell in the self-sacrificing gesture. Richard found he had been holding his breath, and he released it as Kirrina brought Citadel in to close the gap to N-beam range at last, heading for the nearest enemy vessel.

  The linked presence that was Kirrina and Beckie felt the commencement of confused incredulity in Leroy’s mind suddenly cut short as another exceptionally bright flare-up blinded them, their scanners and their screens. Their joined ego shrank and shrivelled as they shared the pain of the consequential emotional feedback. The view cleared after the requisite amount of seconds and what could be seen confirmed the inevitable truth. PC Ten and its crew were indeed gone.