by Mike Smith
He laughed, and the touch was gone.
She opened her eyes and saw his face right above hers, his eyes glinting and his smile dangerous. “Like that, wife?” he asked tauntingly. “Then you’ll love this.”
But before he could take another step forward, a low, dangerous, growl filled the room. Jessica’s eyes snapped to the doorway of the adjoining room, which she’d left ajar in case Lucifer had wanted to get out. In the dimness of the room, the only light flickering from the fireplace, his form was shadowy and indistinct, only his yellow eyes and gaping maw were clearly visible.
“What is that?” Stanton demanded, in a chilling voice.
“Lucifer, no,” Jessica pleaded with him, but like the last time that he’d come to her rescue, he refused to back down. Not realising that Stanton, with his superior strength, was far more dangerous than any gun. But first Stanton had to locate him, no easy task in the gloom, as Lucifer entered the room, circling around and keeping to the shadows.
Stanton suddenly found himself at a serious disadvantage, having brought no weapons, he would have to get within arm’s length to use his strength, and the recollection of those jaws, designed for tearing and gouging, gave him pause. The hesitation proved almost to be fatal, as Lucifer leapt from the darkness, his jaws snapping at Stanton’s throat. Stanton only managed to ward off the attack at the very last moment—by jamming his forearm between Lucifer’s jaws. Not one to turn down such an opportunity, Lucifer bit down, hard, on the fresh, gashing and tearing at the exposed arm.
Stanton screamed in pain, waving his arm frantically, but still Lucifer wouldn’t release his grip. Eventually Stanton managed to shake him free and Lucifer went sailing through the air, landing effortlessly on all four paws, stalking back into the shadows, again circling his prey. The growl that emanated from the darkness could have originated from Cerberus himself, and unnerved by the ferocity of the previous attack, Stanton turned and fled.
The doors to their suite banging shut behind him.
Jessica, still on her hands and knees, in the remnants of her wedding gown, could only weep in relief. Her distress was interrupted by a wet nose brushing at her cheek, and she looked up into a pair of yellow eyes, sympathetic and understanding. She encircled her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, relying upon his strength.
“Oh Lucifer,” she cried out aloud. “What have I done?”
*****
It was a long time later, when a gentle tap on the door alerted him to the presence of his emissary. He didn’t respond and it was a long few uncomfortable minutes before the door inched open a crack. A pale face appeared, tentatively, between the cracks.
“My Lord? You summoned me?” the voice asked hesitantly, unsure. Afraid. Exactly how one should address a God.
Yellow eyes stared back at him, unblinking and again the silence was deafening, finally it was interrupted when the master slumbered from his chair, breaking the stillness with only two words.
“You’re late.”
“My apologies, High-Lord.” The man bowed deeply. “But the taskforce that you dispatched to Elysium Fields has only just returned, empty-handed. They report that there is no sign of the station.”
“How can that be? I’d been led to understand that it was over five-miles in length and possessed no engines. How could it simply vanish?”
“In his report, Admiral Holtz, suggests that it could have been towed away. In his final transmission Admiral Sloane reported numerous other ships in the vicinity of the station.”
“And what of Colonel Grey?”
“As per your orders, I’ve doubled the bounty on his head. But—”
“Yes?”
“I don’t believe that it will do any good, bounty hunters are a pragmatic bunch, and after all you’ve got to be alive to spend the reward...” As he said this, the man glanced in the direction of his master’s bedroom, disappointed to note that the bedroom door was firmly closed. His predecessor, Javier, had often boasted of the abundant rewards on offer to him as long as he pleased his master. A double edged sword of course, considering the fate of his predecessor.
“I reward my loyal subjects for their successes, please me and you will be greatly rewarded, displease me…” his master’s voice trailed off, leaving the obvious threat lingering in the air. “Notify the Black Fleet. We’re advancing to the next stage of the plan, ahead of schedule.”
The man looked momentarily disappointed, before the rest of the words sunk in. “I’m not sure if all the ships are ready, my Lord.”
“It doesn’t matter. The campaign is one of escalation. The first few targets are woefully undefended. Soft and ripe for the picking. Now get out!”
Once his servant had departed, closing the door firmly behind him, the master turned to face the flames once again. Soon death and destruction would rain down from the heavens, life and death, all at his whim.
He rotated his arm, observing the deep scratches in the firelight. The pain was negligible compared to what he was about to unleash, but still, somehow it left him feeling wanting. Well, his new wife would make a suitable substitute, he would enjoy beating that arrogant superiority out of her, and once he’d broken her body, the spirit would soon follow. Then he could turn his attention to the other, younger, more pliable, sister. He doubted that he would take as much pleasure from her, but once he’d broken her too, and he had no doubt that he would, then finally his ultimate objective would be realised—total and absolute power.
He just had to find that damn dog first…
*****
The black ships came out of nowhere, with no notice and little forewarning. Unmarked and transmitting no identifying signals, the few defenders didn’t even recognise the threat until it was already far too late.
The ships opened fire at maximum range, their lasers pitifully weak at such distances, but with such overwhelming superiority of numbers, it was more than enough to destroy the few orbiting missile batteries. As soon as those were eliminated, robbing the defenders of their anti-fighter and missile cover, the black ships started to launch multiple waves of both.
Meanwhile, frigates and corvettes, under covering fire of the larger destroyers and cruisers swept into a low orbit, demolishing the few remaining static orbital defences. The orbiting space station, used to ferry freight and passengers from low orbit to the planet’s surface fared little better; cracked open like an egg by concentrated laser and fusion beams from the deadly warships.
With any and all orbital defences quickly neutralised, the black ships soon achieved space superiority, next turning their heavy weapons towards the surface based defenders—of which there were pitifully few. Within the space of a few minutes, each and all vanished in a blaze of white-light as the orbital bombardment rounds found their mark.
Unfortunately, this was only the start for the beleaguered population, as they then had to endure several hours more, as fighters, missiles and further orbital bombardment rounds continued to rain down from the heavens bringing relentless death and destruction—and then they were gone.
By the time that the shaken populace had a chance to regroup and count the cost of the attack over ten thousand were missing, most presumed dead, twice that number severely injured. Far costlier however to the corporation, was the destruction of the state-of-the-art manufacturing plants, which produced the expensive super-conductors. These were used in everything from fusion reactors and weapons, to power distribution grids. It would take many years for the factories to be rebuilt, the delicate equipment replaced and a new workforce trained. Output of super-conductor production by Hyundai-Samsung Heavy Industries would be cut by over seventy-five percent for the next few years, forcing them to purchase the shortfall from their competitors, at massively overinflated prices.
In a final curious turn of events the only facilities that seemed to escape unscathed were long range communications, with both the planets main transmitter and orbital relay remaining untouched. Thankful for the small reprieve, the co
wered populace immediately sent out a distress call, reporting the attack and requesting immediate assistance.
The black ships of the Radicals, as they would come to be called, had struck for the first time. But it would be far from the last, as they were just getting started. As always they attacked the one place that would hurt the High-Lords the most, their pockets.
End of Book One.
The Redivivus Trilogy continues with Book Two “The Ship of Dreams” which is coming soon.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
