Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights (26 page)

“I have never felt the need to lean on anyone, but now . . . now I’m not so sure. I don’t know where this memory will take me,” he said.

“Let me help you find a place for it. For me, the memory became a gift: I now appreciate every extra day of life. For you, the memory has given you a claim on this world that is beyond any duty owed to your Queen. My world is now a part of you. Your fate is tied to ours.”

He considered her words, words whose meaning went deeper than she might have intended. When he’d first come to Tranxte, he had just come to another place with a problem to solve, albeit a problem orders of magnitude above the norm, and in some respects he had come to escape his past. In a surprisingly short but intense period of time, his ownership of the problems here had become personal and deep. The Empire would have a presence here for a long, long time. Lately he’d been wondering if there might be a place for him in that presence. Her words suggested he look harder.

He agreed with her—this world had become a part of him. 

The thought helped him shove the horrible memory of the gleason to the side. He pulled her hand toward him and kissed it as he looked into her eyes. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Your words are a gift. I hear you.”

She blushed, then blushed harder when she saw in his eyes that he noticed the blush. She pulled her hand free and stood up. “So you’ll let your men do the fighting while you get your strength back?”

“No. People are dying every day. That’s the thought that haunts my sleep.”

She nodded sadly but didn’t stay that way for long. With her eyes gleaming in triumph, she said, “My world has definitely become a part of you.”

He liked the feeling her triumph gave him and paused to absorb it, letting the sense of those words fill him with wonder. His gaze stayed locked on hers as he said
,
“So I now answer to two queens?”

She blinked, her gaze shifting to everywhere in the room but to him. He watched with interest as she suddenly pulled herself together, clearly having reached a decision. She met his gaze squarely.

“Sky Lords might answer to queens, but not to this queen. We need a new arrangement.” She stepped to the bed and sat on it, reaching a hand out to caress his face. “Can I be Atiana to you? Even outside the dream?”

Their eyes remained locked on each other as he said
,
“It’s probably inappropriate, but in my mind I like to think of you as My Lady, Your Majesty.”

“Your Lady, huh?” She looked away for a moment, but only a moment. When her eyes met his again, they sparkled. “I like the sound of that. Challenges fill our future, some of them undoubtedly beyond horrible. Can we share them together?”

A warm feeling washed through him despite the screaming from his arm. “We can if you’ll share them with Gar, not just with the Sky Lord. My Lady.”

* * * * *

Galborae came out of the tank two weeks later. A day later Havlock called a staff meeting, right there in sick bay beside Galborae’s bed. Atiana, Turmae, and Havlock’s senior staff attended. Limam lay on the floor beside the bed. Havlock had given a lot of thought to what he had learned from the gleason. Galborae had been unconscious during most of that time so he would likely have less to offer the meeting, but Havlock had grown to depend on the knight’s judgement.

He began the meeting, saying, “Our fundamental purpose here has always been to establish tactics for the rest of our forces when they arrive. We’re still experimenting. Exterminating gleasons from our ships, even with a thousand ships, will not likely succeed. The planet is just too big. We see the gleasons with our life force scanners, but we cannot distinguish them from other life forms. Even if we could, a thousand ships still wouldn’t be enough, not when you factor in reproduction rates and the fact that the gleasons are a lot smarter than we gave them credit for. Whatever plan we come up with, I believe they’ll adapt and counter us.”

He looked up to the ceiling briefly, wondering if he should share his long-term thoughts on the matter. As he looked around the table, he knew these leaders would one day need to know, but not yet. He wanted them focused only on killing gleasons.

“The foundation of any tactics we formulate rests on variability. Our tactics have to change as the gleasons adapt to them, even before they adapt to them. The gleasons outsmarted us once and they’ll probably do it again, but I won’t accept that as an excuse. As leaders, it’s our place to stay ahead of them. Our goal is zero losses for our side.”

His commanders, all of them, shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. “I know,” he said. “We always factor losses into our deployments.”

“It’s not that, Gar,” said his second in command, Major Lebac. “We’re fighting gleasons here, not putting down an insurrection or arresting a few smugglers.”

He nodded. “I didn’t say there wouldn’t be losses, I’m saying I want us to aim for zero. Our latest caravans have drawn the gleasons away from Tricor. I want to expand that to other provinces and kingdoms and nations. Galborae and I learned from the gleason that we can do that. We just have to become more enticing targets than the locals, whether they be in castles, cities, villages, or on farms. If we can do that, we will have given the gleasons exactly what they want: the satisfaction of a challenging hunt even if that hunt results in their own death.

“They’re not stupid,” he added. “They’re not going to throw themselves on our guns without reward, so we need to let them succeed in their hunt on a regular basis.”

Stunned expressions met that statement. Havlock watched as the expressions turned to disbelief, then to confusion and anger.

Before the meeting had a chance to turn into a shouting match, he held up a hand. “I might have worded that poorly. We want the gleasons
think
they’ve been successful. I met with the Chief a few days ago. He’s cannibalizing some entertainment systems here on the transporter and putting together portable holographic projectors. The one gleason weakness we know about that we haven’t exploited is their poor vision. I want to see if we can fool them into going after images of soldiers, some of them riding gorlacs. If we’re good enough with our timing, the gleasons can attain all the ecstasy they want at no cost to us.” He paused, then added, “I’m open to other ideas.”

“Sir,” Major Ch’Nar said, “we need stingers and scooters, not wagons and gorlacs. We’re marines, not cowboys.”

Havlock shook his head, partly in sympathy. “Then give me a plan that takes them into consideration. It has to take relying on the locals’ help as well. We’ll never have enough marines to do the job by ourselves. And one more thing: any plan has to take the gleasons’ needs into consideration. We can’t just exterminate them—if we do it will force them to retaliate against the locals en masse—and I don’t think they’ll hunt us if we’re in tanks. I’d give anything to stop using caravans, but they’re the biggest draw we’ve found. Besides, in the long run it’s important to restore commerce. Provinces and kingdoms will ultimately have to send out caravans whether we’re with them or not.”

“It won’t take the gleasons long to figure out which caravans we’re with, sir. They might avoid us.”

He shook his head. They might, but they’re just as likely to go after the hardest targets in order to achieve the most ecstasy.”

Galborae spoke up. “Everyone knows what happened to the caravan we lost. Traders will be reluctant to join you, and your marines don’t have the skills to run caravans by themselves.”

Atiana shook her head. “I’ve already met with two traders. Prices on their goods will bring record profits if they succeed, and both agreed to attempt runs under the right conditions. They’ll leave their families behind. Other traders will follow their example, I’m sure of it.”

Havlock added, “We learned the hard way that we can’t let the gleasons sneak up on us ever again. Time is the key to killing them. We do okay if we have time to sight them in. We can prevent another disaster like what just happened, but I believe the gleasons will adapt their tactics and start attacking in larger numbers if that’s what it takes to get to us. We’ll equip caravans with heavy weapons and their associated guidance systems. The heavy weapons will remain in reserve as a last resort or else the gleasons will wise up to us, but if our holographic projections are good enough, I think we’ll have more time to kill the gleasons, even if they come at us in droves.”

He hated what he had to say next. His gaze moved from marine to marine as he said, “We’re trained to kill when necessary, and that usually means quickly, efficiently, and humanely. I’m mandating a new approach here on Tranxte. As much as it goes against our natures, we’re going to hurt the gleasons and we’re going to draw that hurting out as long as possible before finishing them off. It’s what they want, what they need. If we fail to give them what they need, we fail Tranxte.”

Havlock called Atiana, Galborae, Sergeant Hawke, and Sergeant Kori to a private meeting a few days later.

He started with Kori. “Is your new position working for you?”

“It is, sir. It’s working for the locals as well. I believe the knowledge I’ve imparted has had a material impact on health conditions everywhere I’ve been.”

“Very well,” he said, nodding. “Have you found any additional medical people who can join you?”

“I’ve found three so far. Sir, I have to tell you that Milae has become an integral part of what I do. Healing is a very personal thing, and without her, most locals would not accept my services. With that in mind, any other medics I bring into this will need to partner with a local as well. Milae has several candidates in mind.”

“These medics you’re talking about can communicate appropriately with the locals?”

“Yes, sir. Major Lebac has been very supportive at freeing them up for training and evaluation.”

“Get him their names and he’ll reassign them to you. I think it’s appropriate that we start referring to each of you as
Healer
rather than Sergeant. I want you to continue accompanying Queen Atiana on diplomatic missions to the kingdoms we visit, but we’re starting to move faster. You might not have time to go to each one, or you might make the introductions, then leave someone else behind to train the locals. You have a free hand in determining your schedule.”

His gaze shifted to Hawke. “I’d like to go with them, but I can’t be in two places at once, and it’s more critical that I go with the caravans to test our new tactics. I need someone to go with them to represent me.”

Hawke wasn’t a mind reader, but Havlock’s meaning became clear to him with just a little thought. “Sir? I’m a sergeant.”

Havlock shook his head. “You’re a lot more than that, just as Kori is a lot more than a medic. You have a real knack for communicating with these people. You’re better than me and better than anyone else in my command. Will you do it?”

Hawke’s brow furrowed as he adjusted to a new relationship with his commanding officer. “You can just order me, sir.”

“I know, but this time I’m asking.”

Hawke looked to Galborae. “How about you? You speak the language and you know our mission.”

Galborae shook his head. “It needs to be one of you sky knights. You know that. Colonel Havlock and I already had this discussion. You won’t go as Sergeant Hawke, you’ll go as
Teacher
, the Sky Lord’s special emissary.”

“I want you to take the long view on this, Sergeant,” Havlock added. “I’ll join you when I can, but even when General Stymes gets here with the rest of the unit, we’ll still have a lot of kingdoms to visit. The people of Tranxte need a mentor, someone who knows and understands the issues for both sides, and I think that person’s you. I want you to figure out what works and teach the rest of us as we go.”

“That’s a heavy responsibility, sir.”

Havlock nodded. “It is. I’ve seen you in action. Tell me it doesn’t excite you.”

Hawke considered Havlock’s words. “Actually, it does. A lot. But I like flying shuttles too.”

“You and the Kori will share a shuttle. That’s how important this is to me. You’ll be in command as my personal representative. As Teacher, you’ll have a full crew and squad who answer to you. Your mission is to escort Queen Atiana and our Healer as you introduce the Empire to provincial capitals. You can fly when it suits you provided your primary mission doesn’t suffer.”

“Sir, lieutenants lead squads. How can I be in command?”

Havlock rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It’s unorthodox, I know. Your title of Teacher places you outside the normal chain of command. I envision the Teacher and the Healer working as a team whenever they can. Both of you report directly to me. Your squad leader has already been briefed and is on board with the plan.”

Hawke’s jaw dropped. “Sir?”

Havlock grinned. “I wouldn’t have offered you the job if I didn’t know you’d take it.”

* * * * *

Atiana sat astride her gorlac outside the gates as Havlock’s caravan departed the kingdom of Baeloc d’Tricor. She rode up beside him and stopped, their knees brushing. “Safe journey, Sky Lord,” she said gravely.

“Safe journeys to you, as well,” he said. “Today marks a new phase in our fight against the gleasons. We’re spreading out, and if all goes well, we’ll continue spreading out until we cover the whole planet.”

Her eyes took on a distant look as she reflected on the world she had seen from the shuttle during her several trips to and from the transporter. “A daunting task if ever there was one. You’re the right man to make it happen.”

He grinned, ten years falling from his normally stern demeanor. “Your province has been our training ground, and we’ll get better as we go. I’m counting on you to find time from your provincial duties to introduce us to other kingdoms.”

She nodded. “It shall be so, Sky Lord.”

He sobered. “It’s Gar, My Lady.”

Her head inclined solemnly in agreement, though the twinkle in her eyes belied that solemnity. “I’ve not forgotten your name.”

A private look which had become more frequent passed between them. He reached for her hand and she gave it to him, first removing her riding glove while staring into his eyes. He removed his own glove and lifted her hand to his mouth. “See you in three or four weeks, M’Lady.”

He kissed her hand and released it, both gloves went back into place, and they were soldiers again. He took up his reigns and broke eye contact, pulling his gorlac around and cantering toward the front of the caravan.

He’d already inspected each of the 23 wagons and the train of spare animals following it. Four wagons carried heavy, concealed weapons. These weapons could pop up to a considerable height when necessary. When activated, the weapons tracked to whatever the gunner was looking at and fired on command.

The rest of his marines sat astride gorlacs, though several scooters patrolled at a distance. This was a new caravan, and none of the traders had experienced fighting gleasons on the road. They had all received training on the new weapons and tactics, and they were dressed in the unpopular marine uniforms. Overhead and out of sight, a shuttle kept watch on a wide area around and in front of the caravan.

This particular caravan, led by Trader Markesan, carried trade goods, but its principal purpose was to pick up a sorely needed load of salt from the mines of Zobar. Prior to the caravan’s arrival there, Atiana and Hawke would alert King Envaeg to the impending visit.

Gleasons in ones and twos attacked almost immediately but were quickly taken out by nearby marines. Havlock, knowing some of his marines were new to the road and more than a little nervous, reminded them that they needed to draw out the killing for as long as they could. Gleasons needed to communicate sensations of ecstasy to other gleasons within their telepathic range.

Havlock personally supervised the marine operating one of the holographic projectors during an attack. The young soldier did her best to hide her nervousness as she sent out the image of a marine on the back of a gorlac. Details of the marine and gorlac were so perfect that the traders thought a marine had gone crazy and ridden too far from the caravan. A gleason attacked, and every weapon in range fired on the gleason in an attempt to save the rider. Because of that, the first gleason died quickly, though a lot of shots went wild and Havlock wondered if some of the traders would have killed a real rider as well. He passed the word to unbelieving traders to hold their fire the next time. His marines purposely took longer to kill the next gleason, and with growing confidence they let the next gleason leap for its final attack before killing it. Whether the image fooled the gleason or not, no one knew, but it definitely fooled the traders.

The caravan quickly settled into the routine of the road. The traders remained nervous and anxious, but they seemed happy to be back to their old routines. Trader Markesan, in particular, reveled at the freedom after months of confinement within the city, not even complaining at the frequent downpours.

Havlock, studying the sky through his visor, noticed a second shuttle circling high overhead. His visor informed him it was Hawke’s shuttle. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

Hawke answered instantly, clearly in the net with the pilots or maybe even piloting the shuttle himself. “Queen Atiana’s request, sir. She wants you to have extra coverage for the first day or two while you work out the kinks. We’ll get to Zobar in plenty of time.”

“Hmm. Tell her I said we’re fine and to get back to work,” Havlock replied sternly.

“Uh, sorry sir. Even you’re not brave enough to tell her that. I’ll let her know you’re well.”

Havlock shook his head and sighed, but a smile found its way to his face.

Gleason attacks intensified each day, though no surprise ambushes materialized, and the shuttle looked hard for signs of activity ahead of the convoy. By the end of the first week, gleason attacks had intensified to groups of threes and fours, keeping everyone awake night and day. Havlock switched out half of his marines in order to give his reserve squad some experience, and the fresh troops underscored just how exhausted his regular troops had become. A few days later he changed out the remainder of the first troops with the rest of the reserves.

He shuttled to another caravan and experienced the same semi-organized gleason activity. He suspected that meant the gleasons were communicating with each other, so he sent a message to all caravans to expect changing tactics.

And those tactics did change. Gleasons started attacking in droves, oftentimes coordinated droves. Things were not desperate yet, but Havlock wished he had brought more holographic projectors from Aldebaran I. He had M’Kind sent off another drone with a request for more.

Timing was everything with the projections. Teams expended every effort to kill the creatures just before they reached the imaginary target. If the gleasons ever figured out that their most enticing targets were illusory, the process would fail. Then it would be back to the drawing boards.

Galborae, still healing, was shuttling to whomever needed him. At the moment he was in Tricor. He informed Havlock that gleason activity around the city was nonexistent. The growing season had been missed, but farmers had been sent back to the nearest fields to prepare those fields for the next season. A shuttle periodically flew over the farmers from high altitude, prepared to take out any gleason without allowing it the luxury of ecstasy. The message appeared to be getting through.

Hawke called him at the half-way point. “Sky Lord, I’m in Zobar with King Envaeg. He’s listening in as an act of good faith on my part. We’re seeing lots and lots of gleasons in the area. A fair number of them are bypassing the city in favor of you, but we’re still dealing with a lot of them on the walls. I’m thinking that if we start eliminating these nearby gleasons from a shuttle, there would be no ecstasy for them. If they get the message, they might learn to stay clear of Zobar. What do you think?”

“I think you’re onto something. I like the idea of a no-gleason zone around every major city. Give it a try. How’s it going?”

“Queen Atiana and I are doing our best to convince him we’re not keeping secrets from him. We’re off to see King Goragii of Gaedon as soon as we’re done here. I’m thinking a little personal intervention by each of these kings will go a long way with their subjects. Are you willing to entertain them and a few of their soldiers for a few days if I’ve provided initial weapons training?”

Havlock rubbed a hand across a stubbly jaw. He had not taken the time to shave today, and he would have to rectify that soon. He was, after all, setting an example not only for his own men but for the traders on the caravan. Now it looked like he would expand that example to kings out here on the road as well.

“Let me check with Trader Markesan, but I think we can do it. Can you get them into a shuttle?”

“Already done, Sky Lord. We can be there within the hour.”

Markesan’s eyes narrowed when Havlock told him of the king’s request. “It will go well for me if we’re successful, Sky Lord. Actually, it will go very well for me. It’ll backfire if he gets killed.”

“We’ll keep a close eye on him.”

The trader’s lips firmed into a thin line, though his eyes twinkled. “You haven’t met him. I have. He will not hide in the background.”

Havlock’s eyes rose to the sky in partial defeat, but he understood. “We’ll think of something . . .”

He left the caravan briefly and shuttled to King Envaeg. When he stepped from the shuttle in front of the main gate, Atiana, Hawke, and an enormous individual he assumed to be Envaeg stood within a double column of six knights. Several of them were accompanied by melds, and each of them held the reigns of a gorlac. Spectators filled the battlements.

He stepped to Atiana first and bowed, saying, “Your Majesty.”

“It’s good to see you again,
”
she replied as she held an arm out to Envaeg
.
“Sky Lord, meet King Envaeg, ruler of Zobar.”

Havlock and King Envaeg bowed slightly to each other, then Envaeg reached out a massive hand and grasped Havlock’s forearm. “Your presence honors us, Sky Lord.”