Duran was a
swarthy skinned man of moderate height and muscular build, with coal black hair
and eyes so dark brown they looked just as black. A score of people were
already gathered in the room, sitting around the large table, some right up to
it, others further back. There was one open chair, and a cursor blinked in
Moyahan’s vision as she looked at the seat. She hurried over to it, gave the
Commander a head nod, and took the seat.
“Now that we’re
all here,” said the Commander in a voice higher pitched than his bulk would
have indicated, “we will go over our mission parameters for the morning. And
this is that mission,” he continued as a holo sprung to life, showing one of
the huge quarter arcs that rose out of the bones of the planet. “Your team
will form the second excavating shift at this site.” The holo zoomed up to
show surrounding mountains and desert scrubland. “There is already one team on
the site, and a platoon of Marines as security.”
“Are we to
assume that we will be camping on site,” asked a Lt. Commander sitting at the
table.
“You are. The
Admiral wants to find out as much as he can about these constructs before we
are forced to leave the planet. Since they will not yield up their secrets
from above, we are going to see what we can find by burrowing into the earth.
And to answer your implied question, we will bring you back in small groups to
the base about once a week, where you can clean up, have a good meal, and
relax.”
The room shook
just a bit, then again, and several of the Spacers looked up to the ceiling in
alarm. The Commander closed his eyes, the concentrated look on his face
showing that he had gone into com link.
“We are being
attacked by mortars, ladies and gentlemen,” said the Commander. “Nothing to be
alarmed about, since our defensive lasers are picking them out of the air
before they get to us. Probably wouldn’t do too much damage if they hit,
either, considering the tech of their weapons.”
He closed his
eyes again as some more faint crumps sounded from beyond the ceiling.
“However, we have been asked to relocate to the lower levels, just in case.”
We’re here to
help these people
, thought Moyahan with a scowl as she got to her feet and
followed some Spacers out of the room.
Only an hour onto this world, and
they have already tried to kill me twice.
She wasn’t sure if the attempt
with her shuttle was really an attempt to kill her and the people with her, but
she was willing to give the natives the benefit of a doubt.
And tomorrow I
get to go out into the boonies, where they’ll have an even easier time getting
to me.
* * *
Shoot and scoot
was what it was called. The process of firing one shot, or only a couple,
before moving the firing tube. Or, in the case of the prepositioned mortars,
moving from tube to tube. The theory was that counterbattery could not track
the shell back in time to kill the firing crew, or, in this case, the lone
operative who had dropped the round down the tube before running to the next
one to repeat the process. It might have worked against their own tech.
Against something well over a thousand years more advanced? Not a chance.
Warrant Officer
Melissa Sung watched the round from the mortar arc up on her monitor, on a
heading toward the compound. As soon as it started its drop a laser linked its
projector and the round for just an instant. Enough to pump sufficient heat
into the high explosive round to detonate it in midair. Shrapnel rained down,
very little of it hitting the compound. Several Klassekian civilians were not
so fortunate, and two went down on the street.
“Bastards,”
cursed the Pilot under her breath, setting her stingship’s weapons system on
automatic wide beam. It was bad enough that the terrorists were trying to hurt
her people, who were, after all, combatants. But hurting their own people, and
innocent bystanders at that, was going too far.
The craft’s
sensors picked up the next shot, another mortar round starting its rise into
the air. It had only reached two meters above the ground, and the being that
had dropped it had only taken one step away, when the laser beam, three meters
wide as the point of strike, hit. The round exploded under the imparted energy
of the coherent energy, sending shrapnel scything through the space for ten
meters in every direction, including the terrorist who had just sent it on its
way. That male was already in the process of being incinerated by the portion
of the beam he had interrupted. It would be hard to say what killed him
first. The point was moot, as his scorched bones and some kilos of cooked
flesh hit the ground, while a mist of superheated steam rose into the air
around him.
Sung barely had
time to register the kill before another round started on its rise, and the
stingship’s main laser repeated the same procedure, leaving another partially
incinerated body on the deck. It seemed that none of the alien operatives
realized what was going on, and the other four continued with their mission
until, one at a time, they were all killed.
Dumb fucks
,
thought the Pilot, rising back into the sky and up to her station altitude,
setting the craft to hover in place and go to full stealth. The skin of the
stingship shimmered for a moment, and it faded from the view of all sensors,
visual and other electromagnetic. If one knew where to look, it could still be
picked up on infrared from the heat the craft’s fusion power plant was putting
out. Otherwise, it was as undetectable as anything could be.
Chapter Eight
I’m going to save these people if
I have to kill every one of them, and resurrect those we can.
Report from unidentified officer.
“Of course,
Admiral,” said First Councilman Rizzit Contena, looking at the human in the
holo. “We will fully cooperate with you on this.”
You are
getting all of this, my brother
, he said to General Mazzat Contena, his
litter mate.
I am
,
sent back the General. They could both feel the other siblings from their
litter in the background, listening in, ready to give their input when needed.
“All of our
police and intelligence agencies are on full alert, as of this moment,”
continued the First Councilman to the leader of the humans. “I am also
considering putting all of our military forces on alert as well.”
“I’m not sure
that last is a good idea, First Councilman,” said the Admiral, who had become
the contact person of the humans within days after he had entered the system.
“Tensions are already high enough, and from what we have been seeing in your
news reports, even the majority of your own population is on a razor’s edge.”
He does not
trust us,
sent Kazzat, the financier, and the member of the litter who was
probably the best negotiator of the group.
“The safety of
your people is my primary concern,” said the First Councilman. “It does none
of us any good for violent confrontations to occur between yours and ours.”
We have
enough volunteers among our nonbelievers to fulfill their needs
, sent
Mazzat.
I say we just give them those people, and ask them to leave.
And then wait
for the blue giant to kill the rest of us
, sent Lazzit, the engineer.
We
should see if we can get their technological secrets from them. Then, just
maybe, we could build our own arks, and get at least some more of our people
out of here. At least the important ones.
Which means
us, and the people in our circles
, thought the First Councilman in his
private thoughts.
And when that gets out to our population, we have riots.
Possibly mutiny by our own forces. The masses overrunning the construction
sites.
“Have you
thought anymore about trying to build shelters for at least some of our
people?” asked Rizzit. “I know you don’t have the resources to save all of us,
or even a very large percentage. But every one you can save is a blessing.”
“We have more
ships due to arrive in the next couple of weeks,” said the Admiral, looking off
the holo for a moment. “I’ll see what we have to work with when they come
insystem.”
You would
think he would know what is coming aboard those ships he ordered here,
sent
the General.
I have to wonder what he’s hiding.
“I have to go
now, First Councilman,” said the Admiral, looking back out of the holo. “I
have a staff meeting scheduled. But I would definitely like to talk with you
again tomorrow.”
“I look forward
to it, Admiral,” said Rizzit, listening to his brothers chime in with their
take on the human’s cutting the com short.
The holo died,
and the First Councilman sat back in his chair, digesting everything the human
had said, every remark, every expression. And his brothers looked over his
memories as well, and added their own, filling in any details he might have
forgotten.
They examined
every nuance of the Admiral’s presentation. None of them were expert on
humans, yet. But they still had gotten a better handle on the humans than they
thought the humans had gotten on them.
* * *
Tzapp Kelish was
something that had not been seen in the Empire. Not since humankind had left
the Earth. He was a minister, which was not an unusual occupation, even in the
Empire, which had a great many religions, most with a good number of adherents,
though none were as fanatical as the majority of those on Klassek. No, Kelish
was what had been known on old Earth as a televangelist, a minister who
preached to his congregation through the airwaves, or in this case, mostly,
through cable and satellite. It was, just as it had been on Earth, a lucrative
business that pandered to the easily fooled, the gullible, the perpetually
angry.
Kelish stood at
his podium in front of the cameras, his six litter mates, also members of his
ministry, sitting behind him. He was linked with them while he spoke, using
their awareness of the live crowd, of the religious texts, of the news that was
circulating through the news media.
“And Gallact
said to his brothers, looking down upon the world from their seats in heaven,
‘the people are ours to protect. From all of the dangers of the Universe.’
And so the Gods placed the twelve temples upon the world, that we would be
protected from the evil plans of the Dark Gods. As so they wait, for the time
of danger, when the power of the Gods will flow through them.”
Kelish closed
the book on the podium, the holy text of his religion, and looked out over the
audience, then to the cameras. “The word of the Gods is clear. We are to
trust in their word, and seek comfort in the fact that they are our protectors,
as long as we are faithful to them, and keep their strictures. But their words
also come with a warning, that we must obey their word, or their protection
will be removed from us. And the Dark Gods, including the Demon God of the
Honish, Hrrottha, will destroy us utterly, and our souls will not ascend to the
home of the Gods to live there forever.”
The crowd
shouted out their version of an ‘amen’, and Kelish held his hands in the air.
“Hrrottha has told his worshipers that we are all doomed, that he will send
destruction to this world, and our souls will be eaten by he and his Demon
Servants. Will we let this happen my fellow Children of the Gods?”
“No,” shouted
the crowd, and Kelish received the feedback from his siblings that let him know
he was playing the congregation like a master. No, not really playing them, as
he also believed his own words. While he made his money on their gullibility
much of the time, he also held a deep seated belief in Gallact and the other
Gods.
“Now we have
strangers among us, telling us that the star that the Demon Worshipers call
their Hrrottha, the manifestation of their Demon God, is about to explode, and
kill this world. The worshippers of Hrrottha wish for this to happen, as,
according to their belief, they will go to the hell of their God and serve him
there, forever. Nothing any of us would desire, but what those misguided souls
do. And we? We will be tormented as unbelievers in this hell. But Gallact
gives us a different story. That his hand will protect us, but only if we
remain faithful to him.
“And the
strangers tell us that the tale of the Demon God Hrrottha is true, that our
world will be cleansed with fire. That only they can save a select few of us
from this disaster. And our politicians, our leaders, bend their ears to their
tale, and many of our people also panic, and follow the strangers, the
unbelievers.”
There was more
murmuring among the crowd as they bought into the words of their minister.
“The strangers,
these aliens, are asking us to follow them, and not our Gods. They ask us to
turn our backs on the Holy Word of Gallact, to trust in them instead. And that
path leads to our doom. That path leads to us turning our backs on our Gods,
on the leader of our Gods. And when we have done so, Gallact will no longer
hold us in his hands and protect us from the Demon Star. We will be truly
doomed, our souls forfeit.”
People started
yelling now, imprecations against the humans, against the demon worshippers of
Honish. There was true anger there, such as could only be seen in people with
deep beliefs when someone threatens those beliefs.
“Calmly, my
brothers and sisters,” said Kelish, raising his tentacles into the air. “Anger
solves nothing. Violence solves nothing.”
Though a little bit of focused
violence might actually be of use
, he thought, receiving the agreement of
his siblings.
“The aliens are
not evil, I do not believe. Merely misguided. They have their own Gods, just
as we do ours. They believe they do good. They see a threat, and their own
beliefs compel them to come to our aid. In this they are mistaken, as are our
leaders, who grasp at secular straws when their own faith wavers. But in
grasping at these straws, they doom us all.”
He stopped for a
moment and let his eyes again roam the congregation, taking in the rapt
attention of every member upon him.
“Violence begets
violence. I call not upon you to turn to violence. But no matter what, the
plans of the strangers must be stopped. It is the only way on which our own
salvation will find us. They must be obstructed, delayed, so that our Gods,
through the twelve temples they have placed upon our planet, may save us, as
promised in their word.”
* * *
“This is
interesting, sir,” said Captain Mandy Albright, sitting behind the desk of her
dayroom, looking at the face of Admiral Nguyen van Hung.
“Your history
section has made progress on that project you were assigned?” asked the
Admiral, looking up from the flat comp he had been studying.
Each the ships
in his command had been assigned a number of projects.
Clark’s
section
had been given the assignment of looking into the history texts of the
nation of Tsarzor to see what references there were to the ancient constructs
on the planet. They had found many references, many conflicting, when someone
had thought to look at the major religious texts of the primary religion of
that nation.
“One of my
officers translated one of their religious texts, The Book of Gallact, and
found many references to the constructs. According to the earliest books, the
constructs, which are called temples, were placed by the God Gallact to protect
this world from a future disaster.”
“And this has
relevance because?”
“I’m not saying
it’s factual history, but at one point these people came to the conclusion that
those things were put there as a defense against something that would threaten
the entire planet.”
“Which proves
nothing,” said the Admiral, shaking his head. “Just because the primitives of
this world looked at those advanced constructs and decided they were something
from the Gods means nothing. In fact, it would be surprising if they didn’t
think that, seeing something that was obviously artificial in origin, and also
obviously beyond anything they could do.”
“And if this
religious book references something that was told to these people by whomever
put these things in place?”
“What do you
want us to do, Captain?” asked the Admiral, steepling his fingers, his eyes
narrowing. “Leave this world alone, in the hope that these constructs will do
something miraculous to save these people? I don’t think so.”
“What about the
constructs in orbit around
Big Bastard
?” asked Albright. “There must be
some connection.”
“I’m sure there
is. But we have no idea what that connection is.” The Admiral looked away for
a moment, his attention caught by something off the holo. He looked back at
the Captain, his brow furrowed. “Have you seen this, Captain?”
The Admiral
disappeared from the holo, to be replaced by a shot of a crowd of natives, all
holding up signs and shouting protests outside one of the Imperial compounds.
Mandy looked at the signs and listened to the yelling, her implant translating
for her. The signs ranged from ‘humans go home’ to ‘death to the invaders’,
while similar things were being shouted by the aliens, who were arranged in
front of the gate to the compound, obviously there to stop ground traffic.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t doing them much good, as Command aircraft were still
launching, in some cases carrying ground vehicles underneath their fuselages.
“So far it has
been nonviolent,” said Nguyen. “And we’re not too worried about any weapons
their civilians might have. We have to remember, though, that we let a half
dozen shoulder fired antiair launchers and almost a score of particle beam
weapons, including four heavy beamers, as well as two heavy lasers, fall into
their hands.”
Meaning my
command let those weapons fall into the hands of the natives
, thought the
Captain, reading between the Admiral’s lines.
“I believe those
weapons were taken by the Honish, sir,” said Albright, forcing herself to
remain calm. “I don’t think the Tsarzorians have any of those weapons.”
“And I tend to
agree with you, based on your report on the people who kidnapped and injured
your ensign at the time. But the bottom line is that we just don’t know where
those weapons ended up. I commend you on setting all of our equipment to be
easily tracked afterwards, though I could wish it had been done prior to the
incident.
“Back to the
original question,” continued Nguyen. “I don’t believe in fairy tales. We had
enough of them on Earth, thinking we were special, protected by our deities
against all comers. Until the Cacas came along and showed that we were not
special after all. So these people have their legends. Great, and someday
some scholar will catalogue them for the entertainment of the rest of the
Galaxy. But, as far as I know, they are just legends, and there are fifty
other conflicting legends on this world that are just as compelling to those
who believe them.
“So keep on the
research, Captain. I want to know these legends, of course, and any other
information you might be able to find. But I will not base my actions on
them. Nguyen out.”
Albright stared
at the dead holo for a moment, then shook her head. She knew in reality that
it was nothing to bet on, but her intuition was telling her there was something
to it. That it wasn’t just religious mumbo jumbo from another world whose
people at one time thought they were the center of the Universe. She had a
thought, and translated it into action.