The Legacy of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 6)

by Daniel Arenson

  Leona smiled, seemed ready to kiss him, then suddenly sniffed.

  Tom smelled it too. Smoke.

  Leona bolted up. "My dumplings!"

  She ran toward the kitchenette, then returned with a frying pan. On it were burnt lumps.

  Tom winced, then forced a smile. "It's alright. I like them extra crispy."

  Leona sighed. "These aren't extra crispy. These are lumps of coal. They were supposed to be delicious leek and mushroom dumplings."

  "I bet Brooklyn will eat them," Tom said. "That girl will eat anything. I saw her eat the leaves off a branch yesterday. Then gnaw on the wood."

  Leona tossed the hardened lumps into the trash. "Well, so much for my domestic skills. Dinner at the mess hall?"

  Tom nodded. "It's a date."

  They walked between the trailers to the mess hall. The large concrete building had just opened last month, replacing the earlier pavilion. A thousand people were already inside, eating, laughing, swapping tales. Tom and Leona picked up trays, and they piled up their plates with hardboiled eggs, cheese, fresh vegetables and fruit, and grainy bread. The produce of Earth—hearty and tastier than anything they had ever eaten in space.

  They were both war heroes, famous across Earth—indeed, across the galaxy. The Iron Lioness and the Shepherd, legendary leaders. But nobody knelt, bowed, or even saluted. Instead, the people greeted Tom and Leona with smiles, nods, handshakes. Here in the mess hall was a different sort of world. Not one of discipline or war. A place of peace.

  Of camaraderie, Tom thought.

  Everyone knew the next war was coming. That they would soon be flying into deep space, invading an alien world. But that was tomorrow. Tonight, here was a place of light and laughter.

  "Hey, Tom, Leona!" Rowan waved from a table. "Over here!"

  Bay and Brooklyn were with her, waving too, and Fillister sat on the floor beside them, wagging his metal tail. Tom and Leona joined the group, settling down with their trays.

  There was ice tea and fresh butter already on the table. Rowan was stuffing herself full of pancakes while Bay watched in wonder.

  "Where the hell do all those pancakes go?" he said. "You weigh about a hundred pounds soaking wet."

  Rowan gulped down another pancake. "My giant brain burns a lot of energy."

  Brooklyn stuffed an entire hardboiled egg into her mouth and began to chew, eggshell and all. Bay had to reach into her mouth, fish out eggshells, and teach Brooklyn how to peel. Rowan rolled on the floor with laughter. A few moments later, when Rowan began acting out Monty Python sketches, everyone at the table was laughing.

  Tom looked at Leona. She looked back, smiling knowingly. She placed a hand on her belly, and Tom placed his hand over hers.

  This is the life I want for our child, Tom thought, knowing she understood. A life of joy and laughter. Of meals in the mess hall with good friends. Of compassion, courage, and camaraderie.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Xerka took her son into the orrery to look at Earth.

  The vast chamber filled a mountain. Iron braziers floated, filled with crackling fire, emulating the stars. Planets carved of metal and crystal moved about the chamber on tracks, spinning, creaking. Some of these mechanical worlds were so large a hundred basilisks could coil inside.

  Xerka stood on an outcrop of stone, gazing upon the innards of the mountain, the wondrous worlds that moved along the iron rails. Here was her domain. Her empire. All the worlds she ruled.

  Her son growled at her side, hunched over on all fours like a beast. Red scales clattered across his body. His mane of golden hair bristled, the strands sharp enough to slice flesh. As the orrery turned, he bared his fangs, and his saliva dripped onto the floor.

  Xerka stroked his mane.

  "Such hunger in you, my son, my beloved Hssgu."

  She had stopped feeding him tamed, tied prisoners. Instead, she had been releasing her son into the wilderness, forcing him to hunt. For long nights, he chased the human prisoners she hid in the wild. He had been consuming so many apes. Growing so large. Already he was her size and growing bigger every day, and his hunger knew no bounds.

  "Blood!" He clawed at the stone. "Flesh! Bones to crunch!"

  She had been starving him for several days now. She needed him hungry today.

  "Soon, my son." Xerka swept out her arms. "Behold the empire! I brought you here to view your domain. All these worlds will be yours."

  The mechanical planets rattled along their tracks, and the stars burned in their braziers. Sskarsses, the basilisk homeworld, was the largest sphere, coated with tungsten and obsidian. It was the world where Xerka and her son now stood. A world of mountains, caves, canyons. The world where the basilisks had evolved. The center of their empire.

  But it was not the world Xerka loved most.

  It was not her birth world.

  One of the planets, coated with blue crystals, creaked along its track toward the stone outcrop. When it was near, Xerka pulled a lever, and the orrery screeched to a halt. Sparks flew and rust rained. The planets wobbled along the metal rails.

  Xerka and Hssgu stood on the outcrop, staring at the sphere before them. A blue world. A small world. The precious jewel of the empire.

  Earth.

  Xerka slithered closer. She reached out and caressed that world.

  And for an instant, she was there again.

  Emerging from her egg, consuming the shell, one among many in her brood. With her siblings, she fed upon the discarded skin of her mother. Growing larger. Stronger. Strong enough to hunt her mother down, to rip off her scales and eat the flesh within.

  On Earth, Xerka had roamed the forests. Growing larger still. Hunting. Feeding. Lurking in the mist and hissing in the dawn and rain.

  "I was born there, my son." Xerka caressed the crystal likeness of Earth. "It will always be my home."

  Hssgu growled. "I am hungry."

  Xerka nodded. "As am I. That is the curse and blessing of the basilisks. Hunger forever claws at our bellies. And I hunger for humans. And so I left Earth. And I hunted them among the stars. For they are the seeds of that world. The blood of Earth flows through their veins. I consumed thousands of humans. Learning from them. Absorbing them. And with every meal, I became more like them. I became more like Earth. Now the blood of my homeworld flows through me."

  She saw herself reflected in the crystals a thousand times. She still had her serpentine body, Yes. But from it grew the torso of a human. The arms and breasts of a woman. A face so much like Rowan's. She had found the girl's parents in the cave. Old bones. Dry skeletons. Still so delectable. Still filled with so much knowledge. So many old memories of Earth.

  "And now the humans have returned." Xerka bared her fangs. "They seek to steal my world. To banish every basilisk from it. My brothers! My sisters!" She clenched her fists. "Earth is mine! It is ours! I was hunting in its forests long before these humans infested it. Earth is no longer theirs. It will never be theirs again. If we let a single human survive, it will breed, it will infect Earth—and then the rest of our empire. We must reclaim our jewel, Hssgu. We must purify Earth, and we must devour them all."

  His jaws opened wide. He roared. "I must feed!"

  Xerka stroked his hair. The golden strands cut her. "Your father is there, Hssgu. You have a human father. Emet Ben-Ari is his name. From a single drop of his blood, blended with my own, I forged you. You must find him, my son. And you must devour him."

  He could no longer contain his hunger. He leaped onto the planet of metal and crystal. He began to rip out chunks, tearing deep into the iron core, roaring for food. Pieces of Earth rained through the cavern in a million glittering shards.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Emet and Tom stood in the shuttle, reviewing their fleet.

  A thousand human warships orbited Earth. Ready to leave their homeworld far behind. Ready for war.

  "The long arm of humanity," Emet said, hands clasped behind his back. "We will reach far. We will strike our enemi
es. If we can do this, Tom, we will deliver such a blow that our enemies will not rise again for a generation."

  Both men were silent for a moment, gazing upon the fleet. Both wore their navy blue blazers, insignia shining on their shoulders. Both men were tall, silver-haired, scarred. Both had led warriors in battle. Had sent soldiers to their deaths. Had sacrificed men to save mankind.

  But we are not the same, Emet thought. Tonight more ever, Tom and I are different.

  "Emet," Tom began. "I will follow your orders. To hell and back. But as one of your ministers and officers, and as a friend—I urge you to reconsider. An invasion of Sskarsses, the basilisk homeworld? We could lose our fleet. We could lose our army. We could incur the wrath of the Galactic Council and watch all their hosts invade. One last time, before the end, I must voice my concerns. I must ask you—cancel this mad plan."

  Emet grumbled. It was an old debate. One they had been having for months now.

  "Tom, I realize the enormity of this decision," Emet said. "Until now, every battle has been forced upon us. Every battle has seen humanity on the defensive, struggling to hold back an attacking force. After so much loss—to choose a war? And not just another battle, but an invasion of an alien world, perhaps the greatest war in human history? This is the greatest decision I've ever had to make. Perhaps it's the greatest decision any human leader has had to make."

  "And you've decided," Tom said.

  Emet nodded. "I have. Not easily. But I have. Tom, you know that Xerka is mustering her fleet. That sooner or later, she will attack Earth again. There is no help for us. Earth stands alone. Yes, if we fly to war, we might lose our fleet. We might lose countless soldiers. We might drag more civilizations into the war. But what's the alternative? To wait here for annihilation? To dig more and more trenches that would likely serve as our graves?" Emet clenched his fists. "For the first time—let us take the initiative! Let us attack rather than defend."

  "It will be ugly," Tom said. "Defending a planet is far easier than attacking one."

  Emet nodded. "It will be ugly. We'll lose many soldiers. But I hope, Tom, that with this blow, we can bring peace. That we can show the universe what happens to those who attack humanity." His voice softened. "Tom, I hate war. That might surprise some people to hear. The Old Lion, the veteran of a thousand battles, hates war? But yes. I hate blood. I hate death. I hate the whistle of bullets, the shriek of missiles, the roar of bombs. I love the wind rustling through forests. I love rolling farmlands. I love the sound of children laughing, of young people in love. I love life. On Earth, I saw what our life can be. I saw a glimpse of peace. I saw people living in joy, laughing, loving—not cowering in hiding, not burning in a gulock or battlefield. I saw what I fight for. What we all fight for. It is for these things—for life and love and the beauty of Earth—that we must go to war again. We've tasted freedom. And so we must fly again into the fire. We must face death. Perhaps we must sacrifice our lives, or the lives of those who follow us. Once a man has tasted freedom, he will never surrender it. He will march into the battlefield and kill, watch his friends die, and even give his own life to defend freedom. Tom, will you fly with me into the fire?"

  Tom tightened his lips, squared his shoulders, and saluted. "Always, my captain. I don't always agree with your path. But I will follow it nonetheless. And I will give it my all. I would be glad to sacrifice my life for Earth."

  Emet clasped his friend's shoulder. "Tom, I hope you never have to. I know about you and Leona."

  Tom shifted uncomfortably. "Sir." He cleared his throat. "We were going to tell you, but—"

  Emet barked a laugh. "The whole planet knows. Yes, I know you two have fallen in love. You're a bit old for Leona, you know."

  Tom nodded. "Fifteen years older, yes. She's thirty-two, and I'm forty-seven. And I look even older with my silver hair."

  Emet grunted. "I'm in my sixties. You both are kids."

  Tom did not smile. "Sir, I promise you: I love your daughter with all my heart. I would always treat her well. I would die for her."

  Emet laughed again. "I just told you to stay alive, dammit. And what's with all the sirs? You used to call me Emet until I brought up Leona."

  Tom finally cracked a smile. It creased the scar splitting his cheek, the scar Naja had given him in the tunnels.

  "Emet, you're not only a friend. You're a man I admire. A commander I follow in battle. You want to fight for life and love." Tom's eyes warmed. "I ask you: May I ask for your daughter's hand?"

  Emet's tightened his grip on Tom's shoulder. A warm, approving grip.

  "Tom, you don't need my permission," Emet said. "Only hers. And if she says yes, I'd be proud to be your father-in-law. Yes, you're older than Leona. But you're a good man." His voice softened. "Fifteen years ago, I walked Leona down the aisle. I watched the scorpions murder her husband—and many of our guests. It broke our hearts. It's a wound that has never healed. I know you lost your wife too, Tom. We've all lost so much. So many of us are orphans, widowers, bereaved parents. Whatever we can still do to find joy, to come together, to create new life and love—that is our most sacred task. That is how we rebuild. How we heal." Emet's throat felt tight, and his voice became hoarse. "I would be honored to walk with Leona down the aisle again. To accompany her to you."

  Tom's nodded. "That will be a good day. May it come soon."

  Both men turned to gaze at their fleet.

  A thousand starships—divided into three separate forces.

  Geode-ships formed the first unit—gifts from Aurora the Menorian. They were round, rocky, and filled with lavender crystals. These were the mightiest ships in the fleet, beautiful to behold, terrifying in battle, able to fly fast and blast beams of searing light. Inside each was installed a Brooklyn clone, programmed to dogfight, bomb, and strafe.

  The second unit: motley starling ships. The starlings, human-alien hybrids and mutants, had fought for Earth during the last war. Emet had granted them all citizenship. Some starlings were nearly entirely human, aside from a subtle mutation—horns or fangs, perhaps, or maybe a tail. Others were more alien, barely humanoid at all. Some starlings had emerged from labs, the results of experimentations. Some were hybrids, others mutants. They had suffered for generations in exile, hunted and hated. Earth was their home now, and Emet was glad to have them. They had contributed hundreds of starships. No two were alike. Most were homemade, built from scraps. But all were mounted with powerful guns. All were deadly fighters.

  Finally—the third unit. The pride of the fleet. Here flew Earth's own starships.

  True, Earth had not built them from scratch. The starship hulls came from old tankers and freighters. Their cannons had been purchased on the black market. Their shields had been bought from smugglers. But Antikythera Institute had put these parts together, building mighty warships. Their engines had been modified for battle. Their computer systems ran Earth software, which Rowan and her team had coded. Their targeting systems, sensors, life support, software, and other integral systems had been built down on Earth. Their hulls had been painted silver, emblazoned with the logo of Earth: a blue planet with golden wings. Emet swelled with pride to see these starships.

  "A fleet of a thousand warships," Emet said. "The largest battle fleet Earth has commanded since the days of Einav Ben-Ari."

  "Will it be enough?" Tom said.

  "It has to be," Emet said. "In two months, we fly out. We have time to build a few more ships. To train a few more marines. But then we—"

  Both men's minicoms began to ring.

  The shuttle's control panel lit up, flashing with red alert lights.

  One of Earth's sentinel ships blasted in from hyperspace. Sentinels normally patrolled the Oort Cloud, three light-years away. The small stealth ship materialized in Earth's orbit with a flash of light.

  The sentinel was broadcasting an emergency signal. Emet took the call. His shuttle's monitor came to life, showing the sentinel's captain, a young woman named Najila. Dark and dour
, she was the only Gaean in the Human Defense Force.

  The Gaeans were a small community, numbering only a few hundred. They were those humans who had never fled Earth. Two thousand years ago, the Hydrian squids had butchered billions, had exiled the remnants of humanity to the stars. A handful of humans had remained on Earth, hiding, surviving for generations. Today, the last Gaeans lived along the Nile, continuing their old ways.

  All but Najila. She had moved to Port Addison, joined the military, and became a pilot.

  She loved Ramses, Emet remembered. She still mourns him. She fights for his memory.

  "Najila, what is it?" Emet said.

  "Incoming ships!" the Gaean said. "Hundreds of them, sir! Basilisk ships! Flying to Earth!"

  Emet's insides froze.

  It's too soon! he thought. Xerka's fleet should still be under construction. We're not ready. How—

  He forced those thoughts aside.

  Right now, only one thing mattered: Defending Earth.

  He opened a call to every ship in the fleet and every military base on Earth.

  "This is President Emet Ben-Ari. I am initiating a full Code White. All starships: Take defensive battle positions. All ground, air, and naval forces: Enter a state of full readiness. All civilians: Enter your bunkers. I repeated: This is a full Code White."

  Code White.

  They all knew what it meant.

  Imminent nuclear assault.

  As the ships began to take battle formations, Emet's insides clenched. Xerka had nuked two colonies during the last war, slaughtering thousands.

  Today there were over three million humans living on Earth: most of the human race.

  Today there were no more basilisks on the ground, deterring further assaults.

  Today Xerka would not hesitate to nuke the entire planet.

  "Come on, Tom," Emet said. "Let's get into a starship."

  He flew the shuttle toward the HDFS Byzantium, Earth's flagship. All around, the fleet was taking formation. Frigates lumbered into position, slow and heavy. Corvettes formed the vanguard, smaller and faster. Firebirds streaked through space, the smallest and fastest in the fleet, protecting the larger ships. In orbit, defensive satellites were extending their cannons.