Crusade of Vengeance

by Jay Allan

  I believe this plan is best. I will destroy the world, eliminate the residing humans…and then I will continue the search for their main planet. One-eighth of my total forces should be more than sufficient unless the enemy discovers my plan and responds. But in this case, I will dispatch the remaining three-eighths, which I believe will be more than sufficient to take out any enemy force likely to be there.

  The forces will be on site in just over one week, and the attack will commence immediately after. With any luck, the fight will be over almost as soon as it has begun, and meanwhile, my forces will continue searching, looking for the enemy’s home world, for my ultimate goal. I have assembled a data base, as complete an analysis as possible of the systems my many scouts have found. This enables me to up the accuracy of my predictions. The total time until discovery of the human main world ranges from immediately to seventy years…but with a ninety percent probability of sometime in the next five years. I realize that likelihood is somewhat flawed, that despite the sophistication of my analysis, it is still only a guess. But I believe it is a good guess, one that will probably prove to be accurate.

  And I will continue with it, trust in the numbers. And hopefully destroy the enemy, rid myself of him quickly…and have more time to prepare for the resumption of the warp gate, leading from our section of space to the old Imperium.

  And to the rest of human civilization.

  Which I will destroy.

  * * *

  SP-01012 felt something like…satisfaction. Not the great feeling that would attend the discovery of the human homeworld, of course, but the next best thing. It had entered into the system just over three weeks before, the thirty-second one it had explored…and it immediately detected a human ship. It doublechecked its stealth devices and then it proceeded in slowly. It wasn’t sure if it had found the human home world, at least at first, but as soon as it reached scanning range, it had realized that the location was unlikely to be the planet that it sought. It just wasn’t developed enough, its population too small. Nevertheless, there were some people there, perhaps twenty thousand, and it had decided—subject to verification from the Regent—that it had found one of the human colony worlds.

  It was still awaiting the call from the Regent, confirming what it believed to be true, but in the interim it had conducted more scanning operations. Any doubt that the planet was the main target had been washed away. But there were about twenty thousand people, subject to multiple scans, and while that was far too few to be the human’s local homeworld, SP-01012 decided that it had indeed found one of the enemy colony planets.

  That fact was exciting, as good as anything could be, save only for finding the elusive human main planet. The Regent had determined—and SP-01012 agreed completely—that the worlds like the one just discovered were the result of relatively early exploration by the humans. If they had continued, if they had explored and settled worlds for the duration of their sixty-odd years of presence, the Regent’s forces almost certainly would have found more by now. No, when the humans became aware of the Regent, they lost the urge to expand. They continued to explore, no doubt seeking the Regent as it sought them, but they showed little interest in conventional expansion…and they had centuries to go before their population would even begin to exceed the capacity of their single main planet.

  It was good to find the world, positive to discover some humans to destroy. SP-01012 felt that, or at least as close as possible. It was sure the Regent would answer it soon, and there was no possible response save the destruction of the planet.

  SP-01012 remained in place, updating its review every few hours. For a day, then two.

  Then it received word from the Regent.

  The orders were simple, precise. It was to remain in place, idle, doing nothing to issue warning to the humans present. The Regent had sent a large number of ships, and the first would arrive in less than a week. In ten days, maximum, the attack would be launched…and the planet would be completely cleaned, stripped of its human inhabitants. That would be a magnificent sight for the intelligence. Despite its vast thinking power, and its stored images of both the old people of the First Imperium, and the newer humans, it had never actually encountered any living foe. It had never seen any life, save only for some plants and very simple animal forms on some of the planets it had explored.

  Its thoughts were mostly basic, simple. It would do as it was commanded, remain still and await the arrival of the fleet. Then it would take command of the units that were sent…and it would watch, as they destroyed the human world. It wasn’t the best it could be, certainly, the human homeworld was the true find…but it would still be good.

  And if SP-01012 wasn’t entirely sure of that before, it was now. The last little bit of the Regent’s message made sure of that. It said, simply, ‘well done, SP-01012,’ and as simple as that was, as little as it might be for a human in its position, it meant much to the unit…and it placed even more emphasis on its need to succeed, to wipe away the human infestation on the world in question, before continuing on and trying to find the main world occupied by the humans.

  * * *

  Gosnard Elliot walked slowly across the square, looking around at the various buildings surrounding it. Elliot had been born there, just after the planet was founded. He wasn’t the first birth on Linshire, but his place as the fourth was special enough. His life had been boring enough, despite spending the past eight years as planetary governor, and the discovery of the Second Regent had really slowed things down. The colonization program of Earth 2 had been all but stopped, and the few colonies had been largely left to their existing populations. That had been around 4,500 for Linshire, about average for the handful of colonies in Earth 2’s portfolio, and it had grown over the years to just over 19,000. It wasn’t much, not by the standards of Earth 2, and certainly not those worlds talked about that had been left behind…but it was a decent amount to its natives, who looked at their own growth figures as aggressively as those on Earth 2 did.

  “Gosnard, we really need to discuss your plans. You are a shoo-in if you run again. You can’t just walk out now.” Tilman Oswald walked alongside Elliot. Oswald was a little over a year younger than Elliot, and the two had been friends for their whole lives. But they had always differed in one main area. Oswald was more or less content as a farmer on Linshire, and in recent years as Elliot’s campaign manager. But Elliot, despite his success in farming, and his two almost-completed terms as planetary governor, was not happy. Not really.

  “Tilman, I just don’t want to run again. I’ll finish out my second term, but that’s enough for anyone.” Elliot paused for a second, and then he turned toward his friend. “Honestly, Tilman…I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I may even relocate once I’m out of office…maybe go to Earth 2 for a while.” That was only partly true. He had already decided to relocate to Earth 2, and he had no intention of coming back. He just wasn’t sure how to tell his friend.

  “Gos…seriously?” Oswald knew his friend well enough, but even he was surprised. He was aware of Elliot’s dissatisfaction, more or less, but he hadn’t imagined it was so severe.

  “Look, Til…I’m just not happy here. I tried to get by as a farmer, and then I got into politics…but nothing really matters, not here. I know Earth 2 is small compared to the empires on the other side of the scrambled point…but to us, it is amazingly vast. I was only there once, but I was amazed by the size of everything.” He stood and stared at his friend. “I just think I have to go, Til. I know I’ll need permission, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. I realize my parents came here, expected to build something…I don’t know what their thoughts really were. But they’re both gone now anyway, and there’s really very little reason for me to stay.” He paused a few seconds. “Only you, old friend. I will miss you.”

  Oswald realized suddenly that his friend had already decided. He immediately abandoned all efforts to get him to run again, but he clung, for another minute, to his
efforts to keep the man on Linshire. “Gos…I know you’ve always been a bit ‘out there’ on doing things…but are you sure? Really sure?” But by the time he got the words together, he already knew the answer. His friend’s response was only confirmation.

  “Yes, Til…I’m sure. I’ll finish out my term, of course, but then…”

  “Mr. Elliot!”

  He turned his head, toward the younger man calling his name. He could tell immediately from the tone the news was bad. But he didn’t realize just how bad…at least not for another few seconds.

  Chapter Six

  Cutter Research Compound (Home of the Mules)

  Ten Kilometers West of Victory City, Earth Two

  Earth Two Date 12.10.63

  He crawled along, quiet, as silent as he could be. He was doing something he’d never before considered, that he hadn’t even believed was possible. He still wasn’t sure it was doable, but he knew he had to try. He didn’t know what would happen if he got caught. He supposed that might depend on who became aware of his presence. If it was Achilles, or one of the older Mules, he supposed he had a good chance of being turned back over to Max Harmon. That would be bad enough, of course…and he had no idea of how his wife would react. But if he was captured by some of the younger Mules, he suspected other, far worse, possibilities were also on the table.

  Connor Frasier moved slowly, struggling to maintain himself on the metal superstructure. It was the only part of the construction that would definitely hold him. Connor was lighter than he’d been in his prime, but he was still almost 100kg. He was old, too…far too old to be undertaking a mission of the complexity and importance of the one he was on. But he couldn’t bring himself to send any of his people. This project was his…and his alone.

  He crept along, slowly, quietly. He knew he was entering the central zone, the area where Achilles and whoever else held power were likely to discuss their plans. He felt a tremendous mix of feelings. He liked the leader of the Mules, as did Max Harmon, and he didn’t even allow his thoughts progress to how his wife would take his operation. Frasier had hoped for years that the various sides in the development of Earth 2 would find a way to get along. But he also realized that only the immediate presence of the enemy had enforced that, and that every time the Regent was silent for long enough, the various powers began to spread apart again. Frasier disliked Max Harmon’s tactics in one sense, but he understood them too, even accepted the need for them.

  He checked his reader, trying to judge just where he was inside the Mule’s Research Compound, oddly named after an NB, Dr. Cutter. That was reasonable considering Cutter had created the Mules—along with Frasier’s wife—but odd after so long that the…creations…had not renamed it.

  He figured he was close…just a few meters ahead. Sitting in his office, he would have come up with dozens of places to hide monitors, but between the difficulty of placing them, and the chance that they might be found, he had settled on just two spots. And this was the second one.

  He crept forward, to a cross section of beams. If his calculations were correct, he was just above the central zone, the primary place the Mules met to discuss…whatever it was they discussed. As with everything else, it was mostly a guess, but it was the best he could do.

  He reached back and pulled out the listening device. It was a highly sophisticated one, but not a type he’d used before. He wasn’t sure that would take the suspicion off of him, or Harmon, if it was discovered, but it would at least put out some confusion.

  He wriggled the thing until it was in place, and then he twisted, checked to make sure it was affixed. Ideally, he’d have tried it out, tested it, but he knew he didn’t have time. He figured he had maybe one chance in two of getting in and then out again, undetected. If he was caught, he intended to insist that the mission was his and his alone, that Harmon had nothing to do with it. He didn’t really think anyone would accept that, of course, but if he held his tongue, they couldn’t prove Harmon’s involvement either. The dictator had ordered Frasier to do something, but in truth, no one else knew Frasier was where he was right now.

  Not even Harmon.

  He poked at the small unit, checked it one last time to ensure it was secured. Then he drew a deep breath and turned around, trying to remain balanced on the beam as he made his way out. He had a long way to go—the Research Center was vastly larger than it had been originally, but as he made his way to the outside, he allowed himself to hope that he had actually done it, that he had placed two listening devices, and that only he knew about them.

  * * *

  “Is he gone now?” Callisto reached around from behind and grabbed Achilles, pulling him closer.

  He felt a moment’s pleasure at her touch, but he was edgy, and he only allowed himself a few seconds before he turned and faced her. “Yes, and I believe that he is of the opinion that he has succeeded.” He smiled at his mate, but again, only for a few seconds. “And I believe we managed to keep knowledge of his presence to only a few of us. That was the hard part, making sure none of the younger classes found him. Frasier is one of the best they’ve got, of course, even at his age…but the NBs don’t really understand all of our abilities. I’m just glad Meleager noticed him first and warned me. I have to say, infiltrating our headquarters and bugging us…in a way I’m surprised they haven’t tried already, and in another, I’m impressed at the daring. Max is not our enemy, of course, I am sure of that. Not exactly anyway…but in the end, he would have to oppose us when we take the other side, when we make our move to seize control over Earth 2. I acknowledge that it is necessary, because our judgment is better…but it cannot happen yet…not until the Regent is beaten. Unless the Regent is beaten.”

  There was something in Achilles’s voice, almost regret slipping out when he considered the fact that the Mules would eventually have to assert their dominance. He knew that was the case, of course, and he didn’t doubt it. He didn’t even oppose it, not really. But he did question whether it made any sense to make a move before the final confrontation with the Regent. If they lost in that fight, well there wouldn’t be anyone left to fight over control…including the Mules. And if they won, that would be the time for them to make their move…and not before.

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  Achilles looked down for a moment, and then he stared right into Callisto’s face. “About the devices? Nothing. Nothing at all…except to monitor everything discussed within range. Even to conduct some conversations, perhaps, some fake ones. Listening devices are very useful, to the controlling power if they are hidden, and just as much to the targeted ones, if they know about them.”

  “I assumed that. I mean what are you going to do about the younger ones. We still haven’t been able to secure much information from them, but something is definitely going on. You may have kept knowledge of the listening devices from them, at least for a time, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t going to be problems. There are.”

  “Yes, something is going on. I assume they are not unaware of the stress imposed by the Regent, even though none of them were alive during the last fight. My best guess—and unfortunately, that is all it is—is that they are planning something soon. My guess is they are close to determining that the likelihood of a rapidly successful operation will actually increase our chances against the Regent, that the small period of time before we can rebuild is less of a gamble than proceeding with our current organization.” Achilles paused a few seconds. “And I cannot say that is wrong. The risk is obvious, the final blow against the enemy coming at more or less the same time as the internal conflict. But the likelihood that, given a couple years to regroup society, we will be able to mount an even greater defense, is probably true.” He hesitated again, and then he said, “I have made my decision, of course…but I am far from convinced it is right. I am unsure I haven’t allowed sympathy for Harmon to slip into my calculations, despite my best efforts.”

  “Achilles, there is no way to completely exorc
ise feelings from your thoughts. For a computer, maybe, but even a sophisticated one of those, the Regent, appears to have made some extra-logical decisions. You can’t achieve pure rationality, so I believe you should just try your best and then go with it. If the Regent doesn’t strike for another ten years, the younger ones are probably correct, attacking now, gaining the upper hand would almost definitely be worthwhile. If, on the other hand, the enemy attacks in the next year, a move now will likely result in disaster. So, what do you believe is most likely?”

  Achilles stood for a moment, considering his lover’s words. He believed the enemy would strike again…and soon. But he wondered whether that was a logical decision or just the result of his desire not to have to take out Harmon.

  Then, almost as if by magic, his communicator buzzed…and it was none other than Max Harmon. He felt a coldness, but he shook it off and answered. “Yes…Achilles here.”

  “Achilles, I am sorry to disturb you, but I just got some…disturbing news.”

  Achilles listened, and as he did, his face gradually twisted into a scowl.

  * * *

  “We are almost ready to make our move. It is risky, no question…but I believe we have purged much of the downside. Even Achilles and the old guard will accept it…once it is done. I believe that wholeheartedly.” Theseus spoke, softly at first, unaccustomed as he was to speaking, even to small groups. But this time, he had a large crowd, and he increased the volume of his voice.

  “We must be concerned, of course, of the older ones, and the middle levels as well…but we cannot allow that to interfere with our efforts anymore. We have been planning for over a year, and while we could wait longer, I believe that will only push us farther forward, toward the moment when—if—the Regent actually strikes. We all know that we are taking a chance, that if the Regent attacks while our effort is underway, the results can be terrible. But waiting is not without risk either, and once we prevail—of which there is little doubt—we will be all the stronger, the more able to face the enemy. I repeat my earlier statements that my leadership position is for this operation only. I do not seek permanent command, and I am perfectly content with Achilles retaining his position, as moderator of not only the Mules this time, but of our entire civilization.”