by M. R. Forbes
"That is natural. It is also not a reason for guilt."
Donovan considered it. "I know you're right, logically. Emotionally? I'm struggling with that."
"Also natural. Just try to remember that he trusted you and he believed in you and the decision you made."
"Okay. I'll try." He checked the HUD again. "Looks like our targets are just beyond this incline. Let's go in low and slow and try not to give ourselves away. We aren't picking up any large assets, but you never know."
"Roger."
They slowed to a walk, crouching their mechs and lifting the feet only a foot off the ground before more tenderly bringing them down. It took a few extra minutes to near the crest of the incline this way, but it also prevented the shapes on the sensors enough time to react to their approach.
Donovan eased his mech forward, taking a few more steps up the hill. As he did, he began to clear the obstruction, starting to gain visual on the area ahead.
He saw the rear of the column first. A few lines of soldiers, marching forward at a light jog. He stared at them for a moment before taking another step forward, gathering more height and becoming able to look further down the line. He felt his heart jump as he adjusted his view, zooming in on the scene below.
The uniforms were all wrong for Dread clones. These were olive green, drab and simple. Their wearers weren't identical either. They were male and female, dark and light, old and young. They were all on foot, each and every one of them, marching double-time in a column that had to be nearly four thousand strong.
At the front of the line was an older man with a chiseled face, marching along with the rest of the troops. The only reason he stood out at all was because he was carrying a metal pole. Affixed to the end of it was a shred of cloth, a field of stars amongst a series of red and white stripes printed on it.
"Rebel Two, run back to comm range," Donovan said, barely able to control his sudden elation. "Tell Colonel Knight that General Parker and his rebels have arrived."
THIRTY
DONOVAN WAS WAITING FOR General Parker as the front of the army started climbing the hill. He left the confines of the mech, opening the cockpit and climbing out to stand on the foot of the machine, his hand raised in greeting.
The General lowered his flag as he neared, a big smile piercing his otherwise rough face as he stared up at the Dread armor. He said something to the woman next to him, and the army continued onward, flowing around Donovan and continuing on, the soldiers closest to him waving and saluting but otherwise remaining quiet. It was obvious they had a lot of experience avoiding notice.
"General Parker," Donovan said, jumping down from the foot and greeting the man with a salute. He had never actually seen the General before, but the hardware on the jacket he was wearing made it clear who he was.
"And you are, soldier?" Parker asked, returning the salute.
"Major Donovan Peters, sir. Mexico."
Somehow, the General's smile grew even larger. "Major Peters," he said. "The man who started the Dread downfall. It's an absolute honor."
"I'm just doing my part, sir. You've been at this for much longer than me. The honor is mine."
"Humble, too. I like it. We can share in the honor then, Major." He looked up at the mech behind Donovan. "That yours?"
"It's the rebellion's, yes, sir."
He moved forward and put his hand on it. "I've been running from these things for most of my life," he said softly, the smile vanishing. "I never thought I'd get to touch one. I never thought we'd capture one."
"We lost some good people getting our hands on them," Donovan said.
"I'm sure you did, Major. We've lost too many good people. Too damn many."
"I sent my second back to Austin to inform Colonel Knight of your arrival. I expect things to get a little interesting once all of yours start pouring in."
"Not enough space?"
"More than enough space, sir. We've got the city locked up tight. The Dread have failed to break it twice already. What I mean is that we'll have a big enough army to launch an offensive."
"That's the idea, Major."
Donovan pointed up to the shoulder of the mech. "Can I give you a ride? It's not the most comfortable perch, but it'll make a statement."
The grin returned to the General's face. "I like the way you think, Major," he said, holding up the flag again.
They climbed the mech. Donovan slipped back into the cockpit, while General Parker moved to the shoulder of the machine. When he got there, he raised the flag high. Then Donovan put the armor in motion, turning it around and bringing it back down the hill, careful not to hit any of the soldiers as he carried the General toward the front of the line.
It was a surreal experience. He could see the rebels around him. He could see the way their faces changed as they passed, carrying the flag through the line and toward the front. He could sense their excitement and their enthusiasm, even as they did all they could to keep a low profile.
They reached the front of the line, continuing on. Donovan could see Ehri's mech in the distance now, facing him and waiting. He could see Austin behind her, its mangled skyline taking on a new beauty in the dim light of the night sky.
He kept going, a new sense of hope filling him. He imagined it would infect all of them soon, as the General's forces began to mingle with theirs, and the plans for an assault were arranged. For fifty years they had been trampled on or used, taken or murdered, left so broken that all vestiges of civilization had been lost.
Not anymore.
Donovan reached Ehri. She reversed course, turning back toward Austin, syncing her mech's motion to his and helping him lead the troops home.
"Austin Actual, this is Rebel One," Donovan said. "We're on our way in."
"Roger, Rebel One," Colonel Knight said. "I've already given the orders to get a welcoming party going. Fresh uniforms and Dread for as many as we can equip."
"I'm sure the General will appreciate it, ma'am. ETA-"
Donovan was interrupted by a sudden burst of static over the comm, followed by a whine that registered loudly enough it hurt his ears.
"What the hell?" he said, wincing as the internal speakers squealed again. A new symbol appeared on his HUD, and then the noise normalized.
"Earth Rebellion," a voice said through the comm. "This is General Theodore St. Martin, New Earth Alliance. Heh. New Earth. Forget that. Earth Alliance."
Donovan felt his heart skip. General St. Martin? He was still alive. More importantly, he was close enough to send them a message. He reacted without thinking, leaning forward and hitting a switch to activate the external speakers so General Parker and the others could hear it.
"This message is being broadcast with all the juice this here starship can muster, which I've been told is quite a lot. We're taking a risk to send it because we're hitting the entire spectrum, which means the Dread are going to be hearing this, too. You know what? I don't give a damn, and you shouldn't either. Let them hear. Let them know.
"This message is being transmitted from a starship called the Ishur. You think that's a funny name? That's because it used to belong to the Dread. It was one of their fortresses. Now it's ours."
General St. Martin paused, as though he had known how they would react to the statement. More than one soldier on the field was close enough to Donovan's mech to hear the message, and they forgot themselves when they did, whooping and cheering at the news.
"We're on our way back to our home system to pick up the rest of our people. To pick up our soldiers. To arm them and get them ready. Then we'll be on our way back here to you. Back to Earth to reclaim what's ours. To challenge the Domo'dahm of the bek'hai for the right to this planet. If you can hear this, you need to get ready. You need to be prepared. Whoever you are, wherever you are, if you can get to Mexico, get there. Fifteen days from now, the Ishur will be back in Earth's orbit, and the battle for our freedom will begin. Fifteen days from now, the Dread occupation will end.
"You wan
t to be part of it? Get to Mexico. Fight with everything you have. Fight with your bare hands if you have to. Show these alien coullions that we never gave up. We never lost hope. Show them that they'll never be rid of us. Never be free of us. Never have this planet to themselves. This is our home. Our Earth. You hear that, Rorn'el? Our planet. I'm coming, you son of a whore. You've got fifteen days to enjoy my planet, and then I'm tossing you and yours out on your ass. If you're with me, be in Mexico and be ready.
"General St. Martin, out."
THIRTY-ONE
DOMO'DAHM RORN'EL SHOOK WITH anger, his entire body quivering as he clutched the sides of his throne, holding them so tightly that his fingers scraped along the lek'shah. He had sent two domo'shah to confront Gr'el or Tea'va and the Ishur.
Gr'el or Tea'va.
Not a human.
Not Theodore St. Martin.
"What of the domo'shah?" he said softly.
"Domo'dahm?" Orish'ek said. "I did not hear."
"What of the domo'shah?" he shouted. "The two ships I sent to destroy the Ishur. What of them?"
"They have not returned, Domo'dahm."
"I am aware of that, Orish'ek. Were they destroyed?"
"I do not know, Domo'dahm. We have had no word from them. If the humans have taken the Ishur, we should assume that they were."
"How?" Rorn'el said. "How does this happen? Their ship had no weapons. No defenses. How did they survive? How did they capture the Ishur? It defies all logic."
He hissed softly, trying to release his frustration. He knew how. There was only one reasonable explanation. Zoelle. The un'hai. It had to be. The clones had always been willful, but lately, they had started becoming more and more troublesome. First, there had been Ehri, who had tricked him into allowing her freedom to study the humans. Then there was Orli, a Dahm of a research team who had stolen one of the few clone pilotable transports they had and taken it to the rebel base in Austin and ultimately helped them attack one of their bases and claim the resources there.
He forced himself to release his hands as they began to hurt from the pressure. He hissed louder, trying to deal with his anger. Zoelle. It had to be. Both Ehri and Orli were connected to Tuhrik at one time, as was she. His splice brother had done something to them. He had altered them somehow.
He reached up and clutched at Juliet's rosary. She and Tuhrik had been close. Maybe too close. They had both begged him to change the course of the bek'hai, to integrate more completely with humankind. Tuhrik had insisted it was the only way they would survive in the centuries to come. He knew Tuhrik never agreed with his desire to exterminate the humans, but he never believed it would come to this.
"How could you?" he whispered.
Tuhrik had betrayed him. Juliet had betrayed him. She had taken the freedom he offered and used it against him. She had claimed to want peace while preparing her people for war.
"Domo'dahm, what are your orders?" Orish'ek said. "How should we respond to this declaration?"
"Respond? How else will we respond? If the humans are coming here to fight, then we will prepare to meet them."
"Domo'dahm, they took the Ishur. For all we know, they destroyed the other two domo'shah. We can't sit idle and wait for them to come. If they have developed a new weapon, we will be unprepared for it."
"You heard the human, General Theodore St. Martin," Rorn'el said. "You heard how he threatened me. How he challenged me. I will not back down. I will not respond with fear. You heard that he is returning to his home system? Pit'ek will be there ahead of him. He will find his home in ruin. He will find his people dead. The first victory will be mine, as will the last."
"Yes, Domo'dahm," Orish'ek said.
"That does not mean we won't prepare for war. Send messages out to our forces. Tell the Dahms of the precepts to bring their domo'shah into orbit to wait. Order the consolidation of our ground forces back to the capital. The rebels in Austin have been difficult to dig out, but now we will not have to. They will come to us, and they will die."
"Yes, Domo'dahm. It will be done."
"Have Sor'ek dur Kan'ek brought before me. I require him to trace all of the un'hai who have been produced so that we can identify those who may have been tainted by Tuhrik."
"Domo'dahm?"
"He changed them, druk'shur. He gave his loyalty to her over me."
"Who, Domo'dahm?"
Rorn'el hissed loudly. "Juliet St. Martin, and by extension the humans. He was a traitor. A legri'shah laying in wait."
"Then, would it not be wise to exterminate all of the un'hai?" Orish'ek asked. "If they are working against you, then they should not be permitted to exist."
The Domo'dahm squeezed the rosary. For as angry as he was, there was still a part of him that hesitated to let go. To destroy all of the un'hai would mean losing her forever.
"No. Only those with ties to Tuhrik. The others have shown no inclination toward deceit."
The doors at the end of the antechamber slid open. A drumhr hurried in, crossing the distance to the throne.
"Domo'dahm," he said, falling to his knees at the base of it.
"You were not requested, drumhr," Orish'ek said.
"I have important news, Domo'dahm."
"Rise and present it," Rorn'el said.
The bek'hai stood, keeping his head bowed as he spoke. "We have received an encrypted message from the Ishur," he said.
"What kind of message? Who sent it?"
"It is a data file, attached to the humans' signal but transmitted separately. It was not signed, Domo'dahm, but it was decrypted using current keys."
"And the contents?"
"It appears to be schematics pulled from the Ishur's assemblers. A device of some kind that the humans call a Darkspace Phase Modulator. It was saved to the databanks by Zoelle dur Tuhrik."
"A Darkspace Phase Modulator? Do we know what it does?"
"Not yet, Domo'dahm, as our science team has just started examining it. They believed it was important enough to tell you right away, as the human name suggests it may be a shield of some kind."
Rorn'el felt his anger begin to fade. A shield? That would explain how they had survived this long. But how had they taken the Ishur? At the moment, it didn't matter. At least someone on the ship was still loyal to him and had managed to feed him valuable information, perhaps at risk of their own life. If he ever discovered who they were, he would be sure to honor them.
"Orish'ek, send a message to Pit'ek, along with the schematics. Perhaps he can find a use for this device as well."
"It will be done, Domo'dahm."
"Drumhr, you are dismissed."
The bek'hai stood, still keeping his eyes on the floor. "Yes, Domo'dahm," he said as he retreated from the room.
Rorn'el leaned back in his seat, feeling his tension release a little. Perhaps there were a few traitors in their midst, but he was the Domo'dahm, and he was still in control. It would take more than a few un'hai to change that.
He lifted the rosary, holding it up in front of his face. This was the betrayal that stung the most. He knew she wanted him to spare her people, but he had never believed she would turn to violence to achieve it. Was her God not a peaceful being?
He closed his hand around the crucifix at the end of the beads and pulled forward, yanking it from his neck. The rope snapped, the wooden balls rolling from it, clattering to the ground and scattering on the floor. The other pur'dahm in the room were startled by the sudden noise and the appearance of the baubles, but they did not remark.
He squeezed the crucifix harder, pressing down on it until it finally cracked and splintered, breaking in half and dropping it to the floor.
"You cannot destroy me, Juliet St. Martin," he said quietly to the remains of the rosary. "This is my Earth. Not your mate's. Not your people's. Mine."
THIRTY-TWO
"HEY, MIRANDA, HOLD UP."
Gabriel jogged up as she turned around, smiling when she saw him.
"Gabriel. Is everything okay?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure yet."
"Oh?"
"I've been trying to catch up to you since we went back into slipspace yesterday. It's been hard to find a few minutes to grab you in person."
"In person? What for?"
Gabriel put his hand on her arm, guiding her down the corridor, positioning himself close to keep his voice low.
"Yesterday, on the bridge. The symbol that came up that you couldn't read. Do you remember what it looked like?"
"Hmmm. I'm not sure. Why?" She paused to think, and then her expression changed. "Do you think Tea'va was lying about it?"
"I don't know. I hope not. I caught him looking over at my father before he said it was nothing. There was something in his eyes that I didn't like. Also, when I went down to look for Reza and Zoelle a few days ago, I saw him heading into the cloning facility when he was supposed to be in his quarters."
"Maybe he had a good reason?"
"Maybe. I don't want to think he can't be trusted. I like him. But I also can't ignore what I see. He was willing to turn on his own kind, how can we know for sure he won't turn on us? Anyway, I was going to take the symbol to Zoelle and get her opinion on it."
"How do you know you can trust her? She and Tea'va don't like one another."
"I know. Maybe I can't. I mean, I want to trust her, because like you said, whether she is really my mother or not she's still a conduit to her, and I'm eager for a chance to talk to her about her, instead of about phase modulators and assemblers. That doesn't mean that she might tell me it means something it doesn't and I wouldn't know the difference." He laughed. "It's hard to work all of this stuff out when the people you depend on the most are the ones you trust the least. Anyway, if we have enough time I can try to have Reza verify, but the clones are due to mature tomorrow, and if he did something to them-"
"It would be too late."
"Yes."
"Maybe I should come with you and try to describe it to Zoelle?"
