Crusade of Vengeance

by Jay Allan

  I wonder sometimes if I have accomplished anything, if I will be remembered as a hero, or as a wretch who seized power. I want to believe it is the former, but I know well enough that it is likely to be the latter, especially after I am gone.

  Though, perhaps most probable of all, is our destruction by the Regent. Back home—what I still consider home at least—they don’t even know we are still alive. And if we do not survive in one hundred fifty or two hundred years, to go back through the revived portal, they will retain that viewpoint, that we were all killed fighting the First Regent…and that all that has happened for sixty years will be gone, at least as far as they are concerned. As far as anyone still alive knows.

  It will be worse, of course, if we fall. The forces of the new Regent will plunge through the restored warp gate…and they will attack whatever has become of our old civilization…and likely, they will destroy it. Our science is now far ahead of the culture that spawned us, and it is quite likely that the space we came from is behind, inferior. Yet we have survived only because we have so far remained hidden from the enemy. Unless we can somehow stop them, find the Regent…and destroy it, before it does the same to us, it is very likely that our old culture will also be surprised, and destroyed.

  We must do this, must destroy the enemy, I am sure of that…but I wonder if what confidence I do have, shrinking as it is with each passing year, is the result of our need, and not any real analysis of the actual specifics. We are outmatched, outgunned, overwhelmed in every way, save only our human instinct. I don’t even know anymore if that is a plus or a minus. I just know that however we manage it, we must find a way to defeat the enemy, to destroy the Regent.

  Before it destroys us.

  Cutter Research Compound (Home of the Mules)

  Ten Kilometers West of Victory City, Earth Two

  Earth Two Date 12.08.62

  “I am worried, very worried. The younger Mules still adhere to my mandates, at least they do to my knowledge. But I know they have met, the leaders at least…and more than once. I believe they wish to remain part of our culture, at least if it is possible to go along with the older Mules, and I think they respect us, our longer lives and what we have learned. But recently, I have come to fear that they are close to taking some kind of action. I am reasonably confident they will not conduct any deadly force against us, at least not unless we side directly against them…but I am very concerned that they have less worry about the others, the Normals and the Mules. I believe the talk of the Regent has stalled any of this until now, but we have gone twenty years with only a few—distant—contacts with the enemy. I fear that for those born after the last major battle—all of the younger generation, in our case—the fear of the enemy is fading.” Achilles ranted, somberly. He felt even worse than he spoke, and his words had been intended only for a small portion of his people, those he believed in the most. Which, to his surprise, now included Freya, and several others from her generation.

  “Achilles, you have led us for almost sixty years—or at least fifty since you have been older. Are you certain that hasn’t gotten to you, that the time that has passed hasn’t affected your point of view? We do not appear to age at the speed of the others, if at all, but what we have seen is mostly physical. Perhaps there are mental effects, wisdom, and other things, that change?”

  Callisto’s words weren’t new to Achilles. The two had discussed them in private, more than once. But his mate’s use of them now, in public more or less, would have cut at him…if they’d been unexpected. But they weren’t, and he’d known she would use them. He wanted the best advice he could get, and he understood the thinking in her point of view. He was far from certain she was wrong…and he knew she thought the same way about his position that he did.

  “No…I am not certain. I have been considering this, on one level or another, for several years now. But my perception of the younger Mules has forced me to take the matter from just one of many I consider…and raise it to a discussion topic with all of you. I do not know what is happening, and given that fact, I am hesitant to proceed with any action—if there is, indeed, any available—without discussing it, at least, with all of you.”

  Achilles knew anyone could answer, but he’d come to realize that the older Mules, in addition to being only a tiny portion of the total now, tended to mostly agree with him. Callisto had her viewpoint, but it wasn’t that different from his own, and she’d only raised it because he had asked her too. He expected Freya or one of the others of the now-middle group, to answer, and he wasn’t disappointed.

  “Achilles, I am afraid that the younger Mules are closer to an outright break than even you fear.” Freya answered, just as Achilles had predicted. But her words were darker even than he had expected. “I have maintained a sort of…middle position…and I suspect that I have been told more than you were, especially very recently. I can promise you that the younger Mules still think well of you and want no harm to come to you…but they are close to making some kind of break. I know this, or at least I believe it to be true, though they haven’t told me yet just what they are planning.”

  Achilles felt some surprise at the severity of Freya’s words, but only for an instant. In truth, he had been expecting something of the sort, even if he’d just realized how much he’d actually been prepared for. “What do you think, Freya? What is your best guess on their timing? And can they be dealt with? Can we buy some time?”

  Freya was silent for a few seconds. Then she said, “Well, Achilles…in truth I don’t know. I would be willing to assume they will give us all a chance to join them, though that may not come until they have taken some kind of action against the others. They know you will try to stop them, and I suspect they are at least worried about me, and the middle generation. My concern is that they are far along in their planning, and that neither of us will know about it until it is well underway.” A pause, then: “As to whether they can be bought off for a few years, through some promise of ultimate action, I just don’t know.”

  Achilles felt his ally’s—and former rival’s—words cut at him, mostly because she felt more or less the same way he did. “What do you propose we do, Freya?” The words came out quickly. A few seconds later, he added, “I mean, we must maintain the Mule population as one, that is essential…but I believe we have to keep our relationship with the regular humans intact as well.” He knew he had lost some of his own urge to rebel against the humans, but he was also aware that the only thing holding the younger Mules—and maybe still the middle ones too—into the alliance was the threat from the enemy. If the Regent was defeated, destroyed, he knew he would face another cataclysm, perhaps one even worse than the fight against the enemy. But he was disciplined enough to take his problems in order…and the worst thing he had to deal with immediately was the fact that the younger Mules had no experience with the enemy. The talk, mostly from the older Mules, had served to date, but it wouldn’t last forever. If the fight—the final fight—against the Regent came quickly, he was sure the younger Mules would at least postpone their plans until after the fight.

  But if the Regent remained silent, if the space out there was still and silent for much longer, he was sure the younger Mules would eventually try something. He just didn’t know if he was looking at a year, five years…or a month.

  “I don’t know, Achilles.” Freya’s response was dark. “I understand the position of the younger Mules. I shared it at one time…and still do, at least to an extent. But I have seen the enemy, and I realize what we truly face. I understand now, in a way no one could, except by actually experiencing something. I am also aware that the younger Mules haven’t seen the enemy, not really. They have worked, the adults among them at least, and they have produced many weapons, and advanced the technology level of Earth 2 significantly. But they have also become more and more aware of the danger of sharing all the results of their research. I know—as do you—that they are holding back some of the progress they make, and that they have �
�secret” stockpiles of certain equipment. I do not believe that they are unaware that we know of this activity, though I am fairly certain they are convinced that we will not turn them over to the government…which, of course, we won’t. We, too, have our holdbacks, our stockpiles of newly developed equipment.” Freya was silent for a moment, and Achilles realized she had answered for all the Mules…and answered correctly. Despite his own form of loyalty to Harmon, even he would not turn over the Mule stockpiles. He even had a few of his own.

  Freya continued. “I do not understand precisely what they possess. Some of it, certainly, but not all. I am only confident they will not use it against other Mules…at least not unless there is no choice.”

  “Me too. I know—and ‘know’ is a strong word—that they have assembled at least some stockpiles. But I have very little information about what they contain. I’m afraid my own intentions, when I first led the Mules, resulted in a very loosely-confined society, and that has been more or less respected by Max Harmon. It is not too difficult for us to work on our own, and hide the results of your research, some of them at least.

  Achilles paused for a moment, and then continued, “My intentions were pure, of course. There were far fewer of us back then, and our suspicions were mostly focused on the others, the humans.” A pause, and then: “My first real internal challenge came from you, Freya…and you more or less yielded soon afterwards. I guess I figured the subsequent Mules would behave the same way, that they would have moments of unique thought, but that the enemy would strike before it reached any critical point. But the enemy has been silent, for a long while…and I am worried.”

  “I am worried too, Achilles. Very worried.”

  Freya’s words were only what Achilles had expected, but they cut at him anyway…deeply. He’d known before the meeting that Freya—and those she effectively commanded—were concerned, but now he realized it was worse even than he had thought. Her own thoughts were harsher even than his.

  Freya could still elect to side with the younger Mules. He considered that for a moment, before rejecting the thought. He didn’t doubt that she had considered it, perhaps seriously, but her presence, and particularly her willingness to provide the information she had, told him she, and her people, were more or less on his side.

  He continued the meeting and listened to all who desired to speak. But he had decided…he had to speak with Freya alone, and confirm that he was right, that she was willing to side with him, even against the others…and if she had any measures she required for her unrestrained loyalty.

  And he had to decide if he was willing to move against his own, against the younger ones…or if he was close to the extent of his loyalty to Max Harmon.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what to tell you, sir. The Mules are hard to monitor. It’s not like my people can hide among them, as one of them. No Mule has ever defected from their group…and it’s not like we could trust one who did. The Tanks are different. They are hard to tell apart from the others at a routine glance, and they are not as united. They are upset, too, and there are groups among them that are planning various operations…but nothing we probably can’t handle, at least for the next few years. The Mules are a different problem. Entirely.”

  Connor Frasier spoke calmly, but Harmon knew he was deadly serious. The head of the Marine Corps until his retirement, he had slipped into a very secretive role, one that very few people even knew about. Earth 2 had police, and, sadly to many, secret police. And then it had Frasier’s people. There were only a few of them, and all of them had other jobs, at least as far as any investigation would show. They were Max Harmon’s alone, and he’d really thought long and hard about giving Frasier the job. The ex-Marine commandant was Ana Zhukov’s husband…and Ana was one of the two people most responsible for the creation of the Mules. There had been a time when Harmon might not have fully trusted her, at least not enough to see her husband run such an organization, but he had decided a few years back that his pool of trustworthy people was shrinking…and his gut told him he could rely on both Frasier and Zhukov.

  “I understand the difficulty, believe me. And the lack of any traitors, or short of that, just someone who disagrees enough with the powers that be to make himself truly available, makes it even worse. I know there are disagreements, certainly, even deep ones, but they are all within the Mule hierarchy. Exclusively.” Harmon had always known that allowing the Mules to exist as they did, living apart from the remainder of the population, was a risk. But it had seemed almost an essential one. He knew his people wouldn’t have survived so far without the technology produced by the Mules, and he was fairly sure he had pushed them as far as possible. Even Achilles.

  Even as he had slapped more controls on other areas of society, he had mostly kept his hands off the Mules, working mostly with Achilles directly…and allowing the “ruler” of the Mules to speak for them. That had always been somewhat of a concern, of course, but he largely trusted Achilles, at least as much as he could. Still, he was concerned about the expanded population, and Achilles’s maintenance of absolute command over all of it. He knew the leader had almost lost control of the original younger generation, and he was sure there were problems with the new group, perhaps worse than the old ones.

  More specifically, he wondered about Achilles ability to keep his level of command…and whether he would know about everything that was going on.

  And whether Achilles would side with him or with the other Mules. He was reasonably sure his friend would strive to keep the peace, at least until the Regent was defeated. But he still had doubts about Achilles’s long term position.

  “Connor…” Max continued. “We need more information on the Mules. Particularly the younger ones. We’ve had very little contact with them, the newer generations especially, and they seem fine with that…as have we. But perhaps we’ve allowed the Mules to be too separate for too long.” Max stopped and thought for a few seconds. “After so much time, I am not sure what we can do to change that, not without providing even more to drive them farther away. The Mules have been allowed exclusive access to the Cutter Compound, and now, almost sixty years later, we are truly two separate people. I question how we could regain any real access, and yet I must lay upon you just that command. We have to gain at least some ability to monitor activity in the Compound. I need you to think of some way to gain access, to place at least some listening devices.” Harmon stopped for a few seconds. He realized he had become more and more distrustful of all those surrounding him, and the Mules particularly, and he wondered if it was at least partially insanity. But he believed he was right.

  He knew he was right. But also, that it might not matter. He needed the Mules, badly…and they needed the others, too, at least until the Regent was destroyed. If he discovered a reason to fight the Mules, to sever his society’s thinly protected rules…he would be playing right into the Regent’s hands.

  Connor Frasier looked back at him, his expression a mix between agreement…and panic. But he held his cool, and he just nodded and said, “I can’t make any promises, sir, I think you know that. But I will give it some thought and try to come up with a way. Perhaps I can get a few listening devices stashed in there.” He paused another few seconds, and then he added a single word. “Somehow.”

  Chapter Four

  Notes from Theseus

  I understand the hesitation some have regarding these issues, and I assure you I am no different. But, you have received this because I have selected you as being among the likeliest to understand my rationality. I am only 20 years old, but that means I am eight years an adult, and I believe my understanding is adequate to push this to the next step. I understand the points of view of the older Mules, even what I believe to be that of the middle levels—though that is less established—but I do not agree that inaction is our best role. The Mules have been subservient, at least in every way that really matters, for a long time now, and while there is some explanation in the existence of
the enemy, it has now been over sixty years since the oldest of our kind were born…and the enemy still remains a threat. I daresay that we could have acted, should have, when I was just a child, and that by now, we could have restored our society, at a much greater level…all without interference by the enemy. I want to be clear…I do not suggest that we annihilate the regulars, or even the Tanks. But, I do believe the time has come to sweep away this nonsensical attitude that we are all equal, even more foolish in that it is words only that cover up a totalitarian government dominated by the Regs. You may say whatever you wish, take whatever is handed to you by the leadership, even by the older Mules, but you will be unable to argue against the fact that we are ruled by an aging dictator, one who has some talent and experience admittedly, but is nevertheless, a Reg.

  I urge you to consider how difficult you believe it will be to overthrow the regime, to replace it with a council of our own, and then to return the overall society to readiness to face the Regent. And while you ponder this, consider that each year we wait, the numbers turn against us. There are barely seven thousand of us, and while this is many more than there were twenty years ago, the overall population has risen to over 1.4 million. If we take no action, the next year will see more than eighty thousand added to the population of regs and Tanks…and three hundred to our own. We will continue to share our scientific discoveries, most of them at least, and the overall society will gain much of what we have to give, while affording us nothing but a few extra acres around the Research Compound.

  We are superior to the regs and the Tanks, definitely…but at some point, their numbers, and the fact that we have shared so many of our scientific discoveries with them, will permanently alter the reality. Now, there are over one hundred of them to every one of us. In ten years, there will be more than two hundred and fifty of them to every one of us. I understand the notion that we should wait until the match against the Regent is over to resolve this, but it has been 20 years since the last meaningful exchange in the battle. In five years, perhaps even as short a time as two years, we can restore the society to its current level of readiness after we take over…and from there we will only become more and more powerful. It is a gamble, no question…but one with a considerable payoff, both in our own position and in our ultimate readiness to face the Regent.