by Becky Black
Time kept marching on and we needed to do the same. After I'd finished eating, we gathered up our kit and took off, before the day guard showed up. Tesla had a ground car, so we swiped that and headed for the spaceport. I drove, but stopped a couple of kilometres short of the port and turned to Maiga.
"This is where I say goodbye."
"What?" She looked at me baffled.
"You can take the car and the money. I don't need it. Your best idea is to head for Hollow Jimmy. It's safe there. For now anyway." She tried to speak, but I rolled right on over her protest. "If you happen to run into a Sylebine called Ik, say hi from me. He's in the market for a bodyguard if you fancy the job."
I got out of the car. Maiga of course jumped out of the other side and stared wildly at me as I shouldered my pack.
"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded. "This is my fight too. They were my friends. Ilyan was my man."
"I know. But I'm sorry, Captain, I'm going back to Earth alone."
"And how do you think you can stop me going back too?"
"I can't. But, Maiga." I looked at the ground a moment, and then looked up. "Ilyan would have wanted you to live and if you come with me, you will die." I adjusted the strap of my helmet and settled my rifle in my arms. "Just live, Maiga. For all of them."
That shut her up, made her bite her lip and think a bit. I figured that while just one of us lived High Command hadn't won.
"Thanks for getting me the info," I said, holding up my Snapper before tucking it into my pocket. I walked around to the front of the car and she came around to meet me. She held out her hand to me and I took it. She held on to it after the shake.
"Sergeant, you are..." She shook her head, giving a wry smile. "Well, frankly, one of the most annoying people I ever met."
"You're a real pain in the arse too, Captain," I said, grinning at her.
She looked at me searchingly, as if trying to work out what I might be thinking. If she figured that out, she'd probably shoot me.
"Goodbye, Maiga. Good luck." I let go of her hand and saluted her.
She returned the salute, her face serious.
"And to you, Jadeth. Goodbye."
I turned and walked away, heading for the spaceport. After a few minutes, the car drove past me and I waved as it vanished from sight. I hoped she had the sense to do as I said and head for Hollow Jimmy or some other safe place. If any place could be called safe now for humans. Strange to think that Earth was now the most dangerous place of all for humans. At least it would be soon.
When I arrived.
****
The spaceport heaved with soldiers, waiting to board shuttles. A vast troop ship hung in orbit, ready to take them all home. The shuttles ran continuously, slowly thinning out the crowd.
I chose one of the fake IDs and found the most harried looking of the sergeants organising grunts onto the transports. As he checked my ID details, I spun him a line about why I was floating around unattached.
"Got separated from your unit, huh, private?" he asked suspiciously.
"Well, Sarge, if you want the truth, I've been AWOL," I said. He frowned, his deeply tanned face folding into an expression it apparently adopted a lot.
"Deserter, eh?"
"No, Sarge!" My protest sounded heartfelt. "I just sort of took an extended leave. See there was this girl and, well, you know how it is."
"I should slap you into the brig," he growled, and then shrugged. "But what the fuck do I care? We need every man. Get your arse on board, soldier."
You human? Welcome aboard.
"Thanks, Sarge."
"Piss off. Next!"
****
On the troop ship, the blanket stackers allocated me a bunk and I settled in as the ship got underway. The sergeants in charge of the tightly crammed bunkrooms carried out inspections, but I soon twigged that they'd give us some leeway because of the overcrowding.
The journey home would take two weeks at least they told us, and I had no doubt the engineers would be pushing the ship flat out. No point in worrying about what happened to the engines afterwards, if sparing them meant there'd be no afterwards.
I divided my time between exercise, playing cards and studying the information Maiga had obtained for me. Apart from cards I didn't socialise too much, I just played the quiet loner. Not too extreme; didn't want to draw attention that way. I just put people off by being unresponsive to attempts at chitchat.
I also had an all-new recurring dream to entertain me at nights now. Bright, vivid images of Tesla and me. Of zapping Tesla with one of the prods Imtiaz's men had used on me, jamming it into his belly, as he thrashed screaming. Me laughing, loving his pain, feeding on it.
I woke up with a hard on and felt sick at the obscene pleasure I'd taken in the dream. That's what I'd wanted to do to him, but I'd lost the nerve to do it and just finished him quick instead. But I knew part of me had wanted to make him scream for hours. His pleas, begging me not to kill him, echoed in my head. Every night now, I killed him again and woke up hard.
As the images and sensations faded I looked around the dimly lit room, at the bunks occupied by grunts and marines. A few men lay awake, reading Snappers, or fidgeting around under the covers. Yeah. I just let mine go down. I wasn't going to start jerking off to the memory of Tesla wailing, "Please, Jadeth, please." Snores, sighs and muttering came from the sleeping men. I closed my eyes, wishing for the oblivion of dreamless sleep.
I almost got my wish for oblivion.
The ship juddered. A massive clanging echoed through the room and then a horrible jerk to port, hard, sent men rolling from their bunks. Alarms started to scream, men started to yell.
I recognised the alarm. Battle stations. We were under attack.
Everyone started scrambling into clothes and boots and reaching for their guns. We had two possible roles in this situation, fire fighting or repelling boarders. I got into my pants and boots, had started pulling on a shirt when the ship jerked again, throwing me to the deck. Moans and more yelling from the men. A sergeant ran into the room.
"Stay calm, lads. We're having a little Oki trouble is all. Stay here. Get dressed and stand ready for orders."
I finished pulling on the shirt and decided to stay down on the floor, rather than risk being thrown down again and possibly hurt. I hung onto my bunk as more juddering shook the ship.
The longer the fight went on the angrier I became. I couldn't be having this. I couldn't die before I'd had my chance to get at High Command. At the bastards who gave the order, signed the death warrants. I didn't need names. All of them had the blood on their hands, drowning in blood. All guilty.
Until after I'd found and executed Tesla, I'd not thought about what I wanted to do next. I had no headspace for it. But now I knew what I had to do, needed to do. Now I could take the next step. The last step.
The Prophecy had come true. Nothing could stop it now. High Command had to acknowledge their part in that. Had to admit their guilt and negligence. Ilyan had been right and they had to admit that before the end.
Now if only those hairy Oki bastards would stop trying to blow my arse out of the sky.
Chapter 30
Home.
Grunts, jarheads, officers and even serious brass all jostled on the troop ship's observation deck for a glimpse of Earth as we manoeuvred into orbit. We'd made it, despite the attempts to stop us, and now joined the huge fleet of warships surrounding the planet.
Most of the ships were positioned inside the orbit of the network of weapons platforms that defended Earth. The cannons mounted on the platforms could slice through the hulls of even shielded ships. They were the most important part of our planetary defence, not the warships.
Humans didn't fight in space very much. It's not our specialty. Our warships mostly carried troops around and deployed them on the ground. The ground is our speciality. When the situation called for someone to get dirt on their boots and blood on their hands they called us. Earth's real weapo
ns were its people.
We disembarked onto shuttles and flew to the surface and into near chaos. We might all be from Earth but most of us lived off world most of the time. Most people left Earth when they turned sixteen and went into active service. Many never returned, not for leave, not for retirement--even if they lived that long. The planet couldn't deal with so many of us coming home at once. From the shuttle I'd seen campsites larger than cities spread across the landscape.
I looked up into the sky when I set foot back on Earth for the first time in almost six years. This sky was not empty. Ships in low orbit were visible from the ground. Atmosphere based craft passed overhead constantly. I looked away again. Not my sky. Never be my sky again.
I easily slipped away from the squad I'd landed with. Taking out my Snapper, I pulled up a fake ID and some fake orders Maiga had created. Then I strode around, looking arrogant as all get out until I spotted a young lieutenant standing by a small atmosphere shuttle. I marched up to him.
"I'm commandeering this vehicle," I snapped. "You the pilot?"
"Yes, I'm... what? Who the hell are you?"
"Major Kiran, Military Intelligence." I showed him the ID. "I'm under orders from my General to get to High Command ASAP."
He saluted me, which almost made me laugh out loud. An L.T. saluting a sergeant, gotta like that.
"But, sir, this shuttle is for Colonel..."
"I said ASAP, Lieutenant. Now move it." I barked. "I have vital intelligence for High Command."
I hustled him reluctantly onto the shuttle and in a moment we lifted off. I smiled to think of a Colonel raging around looking for his ride. I stretched out in a seat and took out the Snapper. A last minute review of the plans couldn't hurt. Neither could some coffee, which I got from a dispenser on the wall. The pilot kept giving me odd looks and I determined that although the journey would take a couple of hours that I'd stay awake and keep my beady eye on him. Just in case he started doing some checking about his passenger.
I couldn't risk being stopped now. That could not happen. Fate had brought me here. I had to finish the job.
****
You'd imagine High Command would be a huge, impressive building, but you'd be wrong. In fact, most of it lay underground, deep in the rock and safe from almost any kind of attack. Above ground the only part visible was a low building, an entranceway. Landing pads and some barracks buildings stood nearby. The only impressive part about the site was the vast field of communications antenna that gathered the information High Command fed on like a baby feeds on milk.
My pilot dropped me off at one of the landing pads and started trying to sweet talk a field controller into getting him a fast refuel. I headed straight for the entranceway building. I'd been following the coded network chatter on my Snapper and knew time had started running out very fast now. Even the in-the-clear broadcasts over the shuttle radio were full of it. They're coming. In less than a day, the alien fleet would surround Earth. They'd already smashed their way past anything we'd thrown at them.
If we'd had time to prepare, we could have upgraded our ships and planetary defences. We could have held them at least long enough to open negotiations. But High Command had ignored the warning. They had refused to believe Ilyan and now the Earth would pay.
I got past security using the fake ID. Too lax. I should have been properly identified, fingerprints, DNA scan. But the sense of panic buzzing in the air made people careless, made them waive procedure. Suited me.
I ignored the huge, busy elevators. I didn't want to be trapped into a metal box waiting for someone to put a hand on my shoulder and say, "aren't you...?" That wouldn't end well for anybody.
I took the stairs and set off to walk. You'd think they'd be deserted, but no. People still used the stairs to go between nearby levels, avoiding the busy elevators. Nobody glancing at me could know I wasn't just going a couple of levels like the rest, but all the way from the surface to the bottom, almost two kilometres straight down. Cameras monitored the stairwells, but I'd just have to take the chance that nobody's eyes followed me all the way down.
They called this facility High Command, but High Command really meant the twelve officers who ran the military, and ruled the Earth and its twenty billion sons and daughters. Its twenty billion soldiers. I'd find High Command themselves right at the lowest level. The safest from attack.
We'd learnt in school that the lowest level was a self-contained facility where people could live and work for a long time, years even, without needing anything from outside. Offices, quarters, ward rooms, kitchens, mess hall, infirmaries. Everything. And they all surround the heart of the facility. The heart of High Command.
The War Room.
An old-fashioned term, almost romantic. I'd seen pictures and holo-projections of it and recreations of it in movies. Again, less impressive than you'd imagine. Just a meeting room really. A big table and many, many display screens to show the generals the information they needed to make their decisions. I guessed the screens now showed images and projections of the alien fleet closing on Earth.
My fake ID wouldn't cut it down on the lowest floor. They took security seriously down there. If I strolled up and flashed my Major Kiran ID at them, I'd be strapped down and subject to some very embarrassing body searches within two minutes. They supposedly had scanners that could identify your DNA fingerprint just from the dead skin you shed as you walked through.
I stopped five floors up from the bottom and left the stairwell to go onto the floor. A comms centre and frantically busy. I got a few odd looks with my big coat and pack, but no one had time to question me. Following the directions in my snapper, I found a storeroom.
Typical storage area, supplies, spare equipment, junk waiting for disposal, stuff that nobody knew where else to put. It also had a nice alcove set into the wall where I could conceal myself while I prepared.
My eyelids felt heavy. I hadn't slept for over twenty-four hours and the long walk down the stairs had left me almost dizzy with exhaustion. However, no point in worrying about that now. I popped a stimulant pill and felt better.
I shed my coat and shirt and changed into a light, close fitting sleeveless shirt. The Snapper, which I still needed, went into a pocket, along with a scrambler, to deal with any nosey cameras and scanners I ran into. My knife I strapped to my arm. I checked my handgun and holstered it on my belt. Fully loaded and fully charged. I donned a pair of wraparound glasses that, like my helmet visor, gave me night vision and heat seeking modes.
I took one last thing from my pack. A reel of thin cable, with an attachment device on the end of the cable. The reel went on my back like a pack, using the harness attached that strapped securely across my chest. I'd tested it to be certain it would take my weight.
Last of all I retrieved a pair of gloves from the pocket of my coat and pulled them on. They were thin with rubberised grips. I flexed my hands in them.
Ready.
I looked up at the wall and smiled. All underground facilities have one weakness in common. They need ventilation. In a moment, I'd removed the vent cover in the storeroom and climbed into the shaft beyond it.
****
Well I won't get into detail about my thrilling trip through the vents and maintenance shafts. The Snapper pointed my way. The scrambler took care of any scanners and I hoped everyone had better things to worry about than some vent scanners going on the fritz. I crawled through vents and climbed down ladders in shafts between floors.
The ladders stopped two floors up from the bottom and that's when I used my reel of cable. I climbed into the central ventilation shaft, which reached almost two kilometers to the surface above me. I attached my cable to a stanchion, checked it would hold, then kicked away from the wall and released the brake on the reel. I dropped, bounced off the wall again with my feet, released the brake again and kept on abseiling down the shaft.
The cable ran out a couple of metres short and I had to slide out of the harness and drop to the bottom of the s
haft. I landed light, bending my knees in the rock, dropping into a crouch. When I touched the metal floor it felt warm under my hands, from the rock beneath. I remembered old stories I'd read about deep mines where the men worked stripped off because of the heat.
The heat helped me. It meant the fans in the AC vents ran fast down here, cooling the rooms carved out of the warm rock, and their constant hum drowned out any noise I made as I commando crawled through the vents, searching for the one I wanted. The one that would lead me to the false ceiling over the War Room.
I found it. The ceiling void was a space no higher than my old steel cage of doom. Pipes and wiring ran across its "floor". I knew I had to be careful only to put my weight on the joists that supported the ceiling panels and not on the lightweight panels themselves, or else I'd go crashing through rather sooner than I wanted to.
I could actually hear voices from the room below as I moved across the ceiling, almost painfully slow. Briefly, I switched my glasses to heat seeking. In the room below me twelve blobs of heat clustered around what I assumed must be the famous War Room table. Heat from equipment in the table radiated too. A couple of other blobs moved around.
There'd be no guards in there, I knew that. Outside, yes, but no-one stood guard in the war room, because only members of High Command were allowed to know what went on in there. The moving around blobs moved out of the room altogether after a moment. Probably serving coffee, I thought, noting some small but very hot blobs on the table. I switched back to night vision and kept moving.
When I moved into position beside a vent panel, I lay flat, spreading my weight. I took the glasses off and looked down through the grill of the vent to confirm my position. Perfect. Right over the war room table, which had a 3D projection running. The Earth in the middle, our ships surrounding it, and just out of range of them and the orbiting weapons platforms: the alien fleet. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of ships. They surrounded the whole planet.
On the edge of the projection, I saw the moon, with its extensive colony and shipyards. It looked as lifeless as it had before men first went there a thousand years ago.
