by Scott Innes
‘They just keep coming!’ the doctor cried weakly. ‘They can’t be stopped.’
‘Don’t be so defeatist!’ I replied, though I had difficulty disagreeing with his assessment.
‘They’re like machines,’ he went on. ‘They must have coordinated this so well. It’s almost as though every ship in their fleet, every soldier on the ground, is somehow electronically linked to one another. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so damn terrifying.’
Just like that, it hit me.
‘Doc,’ I said. ‘Give me your Keycard.’
‘My what?’ he asked, his hand reaching automatically for his pocket. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t have time to explain!’ I urged, and begrudgingly he handed it over. ‘You lot – stay in cover and don’t do anything rash. I want every one of us to come through this completely unscathed.’ I looked down at Dunc on the ground, who was staring at me with disdain. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
I pointed to Barrington12 and ordered him to come with me. Then I did the same to Gerry – I couldn’t afford to let him out of my sight.
‘Where are you going?’ Rodway asked me desperately.
‘Just stay put,’ I repeated as I began to hurry away. ‘You have your rifles if they make a move. If we play our cards right, we can win this and the L’zuhl won’t have a leg to stand on. Sorry,’ I added quickly to Dunc and then left.
THE LAST STAND
‘What’s the big plan, Kev?’ Gerry asked as we arrived outside the glass-panelled entrance to the Compound library. It had so far evaded much of the structural damage of some of the surrounding buildings.
‘We use their own snide trickery against them,’ I explained. ‘Come on, let’s get in before they see us.’
Once inside, the place was empty as far as I could tell – Caroline manned the operation more or less alone and had closed the place during her absence. I led Gerry and Barrington12 to the autobiography section. Gerry shivered, clearly remembering his near-death experience behind the shelving. Barrington12 seemed to clock this and, reminiscent of his tenderness with the players, placed a firm hand on Gerry’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. Gerry nodded to him and I was pleased to see this moment of understanding pass between them. It wasn’t your fault. I approached the unremarkable, anonymous door marked PRIVATE. Using Dr Pebble-Mill’s Keycard on the scanner on the wall, the door swung open and we scurried inside. The room was dark, save for the illumination from a bank of monitor screens full of scrolling lines of data and code that read like complete gibberish to me.
‘Right, hook yourself up, just like before,’ I said to Barrington12. His large head turned with a metallic squeak and he stared at me balefully.
‘BUT, KEVIN KEEGAN,’ he said. ‘IT WAS THIS BEHAVIOUR THAT SAW ME SENTENCED TO DEATH. IF I UNDERTAKE THIS COURSE OF ACTION ONCE AGAIN, IT WILL SURELY ONLY VALIDATE THE ACCUSATIONS CURRENTLY LEVELLED AGAINST ME AND ELIMINATE ANY SLIM PROSPECT OF A REPRIEVE.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘This is the complete opposite. Don’t you see? Now you’re working for us against them. If you can connect to their servers and do some, I don’t know, reverse polarity Star Trek stuff, you can try to interfere with their attack systems the way they interfered with ours, bring down their ships, anything. Damn it all, it has to be worth a try!’
Barrington12 stared at me for several long seconds. Outside, far away, came an enormous booming explosion and the sound of agonised screams. Human screams.
‘Time’s almost up, son,’ I said. ‘Do this one for old Kev.’
That seemed to swing it. With impressively deft movements, Barrington12 approached one of the monitors and the tip of one of his fingers unscrewed itself, revealing a small USB-like device within. He plugged it in and his blue eyes turned a brilliant white.
‘Do you really think this’ll work?’ Gerry asked. Honestly, does the man have to be such a downer?
‘It’d better,’ I replied. ‘I think it’s our only hope.’
‘Unless…’ Gerry said, looking down at himself and trailing off.
‘That’s not an option, Gerry,’ I said. ‘So forget it.’
‘But if we’re all going to die anyway, I may as well let this… thing happen to me first,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘Better I die alone than everyone together.’
‘It’s not happening!’ I snapped. ‘I’m not having your life dictated by a fairy tale!’
At that moment there was another huge crash, this time from right outside the library entrance.
‘They may have found us,’ I said. Gerry, chastened, said nothing. ‘Wait here and keep an eye on him. I’ll go and see what’s what.’
The glass front of the building had been destroyed – but not by a L’zuhl rocket. Smouldering in the entranceway was one of their fighter shuttles, several of which had been peppering the Compound with bombs during the assault. I might have chalked this up to a lucky shot from one of Leigh’s battalions, but then outside I saw the shuttles suddenly begin to drop like flies all across the smoke-blackened sky. It was working! Barrington12 had accessed their system and was zapping their ships from the air! I peered around the charred wreck in the library entrance and saw the L’zuhl falling back and the Compound’s dwindling military presence suddenly gaining confidence.
As though on cue, I saw something else which made my spirit soar: there was some commotion from behind where the L’zuhl soldiers were gathered which I initially assumed to be the arrival of their own reinforcements – but then I heard a guttural war cry that I had last heard from inside a cave on Great Strombago a lifetime ago.
‘Akkie!’ I cried in unabashed joy.
Akplatak was flanked by a group of his fellow tribespeople, the meagre survivors following the heavy casualties sustained during the expedition to rescue Rodway. Their spears and crude weapons were completely insufficient to pierce the L’zuhl armour of course, but their sheer force of will drove them back and clearly had them rattled. I felt humbled that the Watlaq, who had seen their land commandeered by humans without any acknowledgement, would come to our aid, even if it was more likely the case that they had come to protect Gerry. I waved across the field of battle and somehow Akkie saw me. He raised one bony arm above his head in a salute and then returned to the fray. The tide had turned at last.
But then, it turned right back.
En masse, having received an order from somewhere on high, the L’zuhl forces on the ground suddenly began to run in the same direction across the square, cutting through a side street to the south end of the Compound. For one brief, delicious moment I thought they were finally fleeing, waiting for an evacuation vessel to retrieve them – a taste of their own medicine after mankind’s departure from Earth. But my relish was short-lived. The L’zuhl were approaching the Compound’s electricity hub, the pylon and generators housed in a small fenced-off area. As one, they opened fire and decimated it within seconds. Before the lights above my head went out I saw one of the L’zuhl crushed to death beneath the fallen top section of the pylon; it was cold comfort.
I hurried back to the server room – it was pitch dark in there with the monitors off and I almost clattered into Gerry as he emerged through the door with Barrington12, whose eyes had returned to their regular blue.
‘Power cut,’ Gerry said. ‘Bloody typical. I guess we’ll never know whether the plan would’ve worked.’
‘Oh, it worked all right,’ I muttered. ‘It worked beautifully. Barrington12 just downed a dozen L’zuhl ships in a single breath – and if we get out of this, I’ll make sure everyone at The Oracle knows about it. Unfortunately, the L’zuhl are too bloody clever by half. They knew something was happening, that we had got into their system somehow, so they took evasive action. Even your old mates from out there in the wilderness can’t save us now.’
‘The Watlaq are here?’ Gerry asked.
‘See for yourself.’
Another volley of anguished cries from outside. With trepidation I approached the library entrance again. The L’zu
hl ground forces had regrouped and, as though bitterly stung by our interference, fifty more warships crested the horizon beyond the falling Compound walls. Several Watlaq fighters lay dead, the rest gathering alongside the depleted Compound military force as the net closed. I spotted a bruised and battered General Leigh among them. He had made it to the end, at least. Like Akkie before him, he glanced at me – and then at Gerry.
‘Please, Keegan!’ he bellowed, his voice still buried beneath the tumult. ‘He’ll listen to you, tell him! He’s our only chance!’
I looked away.
‘They just keep coming,’ Gerry whispered in horror.
‘I don’t know what else to do,’ I said. ‘We’ve tried everything and they just keep getting around it and coming back at us.’
‘Not everything,’ Gerry said. I tried once more to interject but he raised a hand to silence me. ‘The Watlaq are here. That has to mean something. Kev, I think it’s time.’
He took a step forward, out into the square.
‘No, Gerry!’ I reached for him and at that moment there was a deafening, rending noise from above as a L’zuhl missile smashed into the second floor of the library building.
In a haze of rubble and dust, I blinked open my eyes and found myself lying prostrate with an agonising flare of pain running through one leg. I glanced down and saw my right ankle was pinned to the ground by a large chunk of grey stone. I strained through gritted teeth as I tried to tug myself free but it was far too heavy. I saw Gerry walking out into the square, an ethereal shimmer wisping around his frame like the dust tail of a comet. It was as though he was both there and not there all at once. His feet, suddenly bare, danced lightly across the floor, his mullet fixed in place as though coated in hairspray. He seemed taller, leaner, more alive than he had ever been. It was happening.
I was powerless. I looked around for Barrington12 but he had been toppled over in the blast and, though flailing about frantically, was unable to tip himself up and back onto his feet.
A hush seemed to have fallen over the square. The guns had stopped. A murky rain had begun to fall. All eyes were now on the ghostly figure stepping forward across the battlefield, his eyes milky, his arms aloft, his time come at last.
‘No, Gerry!’ I screamed. ‘You don’t have to do this!’
I knew I was being selfish. I knew from everything I had seen on the two occasions when Gerry’s other self, his apparently true self, had been unleashed, exactly what he was capable of. The destruction and the healing. It would win the battle for the Alliance, perhaps even the war. In the heat of that moment, I simply did not care. He was my friend. He was my Gerry and I could not accept that he had to die.
I spied movement in my peripheral vision – and my heart sank. A wounded and half-crazed L’zuhl soldier, his helmet blown off and his scaly skin blackened and weeping, apparently oblivious to the scene in the wider square beyond, was half-crawling, half-stumbling in my direction, spittle flecking his filthy yellow teeth.
‘Not like this,’ I mumbled, bashing the ground in frustration. ‘Give me a break, for goodness’ sake!’
With a quivering arm, he trained his gun at my forehead from barely a foot away, unable to stand up straight as his neck pumped blood from a vicious wound. What a stupid way for me to go. I felt almost embarrassed.
‘Just get on with it, son,’ I spat. ‘I’m a pure football man, you know. We don’t like timewasters.’
Just before I closed my eyes in anticipation of the end, the L’zuhl’s neck burst like a piece of rotten fruit, spattering me with all kinds of sickening gunk. I blinked the effluence away and saw an angel standing there, wielding a spear which had been dropped by one of the Watlaq during the battle.
I flopped back onto the ground and covered my disbelieving eyes with my dirty forearm. I felt the rock lift from my ankle, such blessed relief, and my foot wriggled back into life. I removed my arm and just gawped.
‘Gillian!’ I cried. ‘But how did… where are… why are you here?’
‘I decided I couldn’t let you go off and fight the L’zuhl all by yourself,’ she said, lifting me to my feet. I grimaced sharply as I tried to put weight on my clearly broken ankle and leaned heavily on her shoulder. ‘I left Laika to fly back to The Oracle for backup – not that they’d ever get here in time.’
‘Blimey, Gillian,’ I said, ‘how on earth did you lift that rock? You really are ripped, you weren’t kidding.’
‘Well, I’m just glad I came along when I did,’ she said, but before I could shower her with more gushing gratitude, I remembered myself and, with Gillian dragged along in tow, I limped across the square, calling out to Gerry to stop.
The L’zuhl had dropped to their knees, cowering with their gauntleted hands covering their heads. In the skies above, their ships seemed frozen in place, unable to attack or escape.
‘Gerry!’ I pleaded for the final time. ‘You can still come back!’
He reached the centre of the square and his arms fell to his sides. He rose slowly from the ground, hovering there a foot or two in the air. In unison, every neck on both sides of the battlefield arched back to watch his slow ascent – soon his feet were level with my head and still he kept rising. He was no longer dressed in his knackered old sweater and tracksuit bottoms. He was wearing a white robe, immaculately tailored and illuminated with a light that almost obscured him. I put a hand across my face and narrowed my eyes – it was almost impossible to make out the figure in the centre but then suddenly his silhouette became clearer and I could see him at last. His head turned slowly to behold each of the expectant, fearful faces below him. The Watlaq were openly weeping, tears of unabashed joy. I almost envied them.
‘The prophecy of Slasabo-tik has been fulfilled at last,’ he said in a voice that was not Gerry’s. ‘Peace will come. Evil will fall. So it is written, so it must be.’
Slasabo-tik raised his arms again in dramatic fashion and a burst of hot energy surrounded him. I closed my eyes, partially from the glare but mostly because I did not want to see. There was a pause and I half opened them, wondering whether I had missed it. Finally, Slasabo-tik turned and was looking down at me. Somewhere in that dazzling alien light, I saw Gerry’s face, himself once again. He was smiling.
‘Goodbye, Kev,’ he said. It was his own voice, just for that one moment.
‘Goodbye, Gerry, lad,’ I croaked.
Then he exploded, a supernova firework display that bathed the entire Compound in its glory.
AND THAT WAS THAT
Weeks passed. Life in the Compound returned to normal – whatever that was. Gerry/Slasabo-tik had helped the Alliance – and the galaxy in fact – to a monumental victory. The L’zuhl who had had the misfortune to have been deployed to Palangonia that fateful day had been entirely obliterated and their remaining forces out there in the blackness of space were scattered, divided, panicked. It wasn’t over, not yet – it was extra time but penalties were around the corner and the L’zuhl’s heads had long gone. They were on the back foot. Victory felt not just possible, but likely. My friend’s sacrifice had not been in vain.
This fact did not make his loss any easier to take.
The wounded had been healed in the prophetic blast – my ankle was as good as new and Little Dunc was back up on two legs; not only that, but he was also no longer cross-eyed, so he was absolutely made up with that. The buildings had been repaired as though a reset button had been pushed. As before, Gerry’s powers did not extend to resurrecting the dead and there was much grief and mourning for those who had been lost.
The General arranged a ceremony to honour the fallen, with a special tribute for Gerry, but I declined to attend. I was too burned out from everything, not only the battle but all that had gone before. The idea of reliving everything was simply too much for me. I was pleased that it would ensure that Gerry’s contribution would be acknowledged by every citizen of the Compound, that he would be hailed for the hero that he was, but they would never understand, not really.
How could they? Its like would never be seen again. But I knew. And oh, I missed him terribly.
Dr Pebble-Mill was abuzz with excitement about the prospects of a super-vaccine to treat pain and even heal the previously desperately sick, and that, if it panned out, would be one heck of a legacy for my friend to leave behind. There was great excitement across all the human colonies about its recent deployment as a long-sought-after cure for approxial mylosia, the infinite malaise disease that had caused so much heartache for so many since the invasion of Earth. I tried to console myself with thoughts such as these but it was still too painful. There was no cure in the known galaxy that would bring my friend back from where he had gone.
In the immediate aftermath of the battle, which, on the face of things, now looked as though it had never even taken place, Leigh approached me. I was expecting some sort of rollocking for not having ‘deployed’ Gerry sooner but instead he grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it.
‘We did it,’ he said gruffly. I almost thought I glimpsed a tear in his eyes. ‘I’ll make sure he’s remembered, Keegan. I’ll ensure that people know.’
I nodded but couldn’t bring myself to respond. I walked away.
Akkie and the Watlaq were overcome with elation at having witnessed first-hand the fulfilment of the prophecy and I was heartened to hear later on that the General made special recognition of the part they had played in the victory during the memorial ceremony. He and everyone else in the Compound assumed that the Watlaq had arrived on the scene to unite in a common purpose to prevent the destruction of Palangonia, and I was more than happy to allow that misconception to stand. Despite my personal disappointment, I was happy for them. Their lives were now complete. I spoke to the General a few days after the battle about the promise I had made to Akkie when last we had parted, when I had told him I would ensure that we helped his people rebuild after the losses they had sustained in helping rescue Rodway – in light of their intervention in the battle, Leigh agreed. I considered asking him for my football club back too, but I didn’t. What would be the point without my number two? Before he and his people left, I thanked Akkie for his bravery and he chattered back happily. I didn’t understand a word of it but smiled and wished him well. If I’d had Barrington12 with me, he would have been able to translate for us.