"I'm on my way," Raphael said. Situation was code talk for we've got trouble. Leaving his science officer behind, he moved quickly through his command carrier. Glicki got up from the commander's chair as he entered the bridge.
"Brigadier-General on the bridge," Colonel Glicki called formally, her voice sounding slightly mechanical from her auditory enhancement box. She gave him a crisp salute."
"Situation room?" Raphael asked.
"It's being set up now," Colonel Glicki pointed to a door just off the bridge. Two Mantoid Lieutenants hurried out and saluted him.
"All ready, Sir!"
Raphael returned their salute. "Glicki … Sachiel … in the situation room. Lieutenant Rikur-tat … you've got the bridge."
"Sir!" the Delphinium practically caroaked with delight at the sudden privilege of being acting commander, at least for however long it took to have somebody knock on the door of the situation room.
Raphael was painfully cognizant of the fact they were far from reinforcements. It was imperative that every man in his crew be battle-ready in case they stumbled upon the planet they were searching for and, as they feared, the Sata'anic presence Mikhail had reported turned out to be substantial.
"What do you have for me, Glicki?" Raphael asked as soon as now-Lieutenant Sachiel shut the door.
"Major Xathanael of the Light of the Emperor intercepted a Marid cargo ship," Glicki whirred her wings with concern. "It tried to evade him, but he happened to have his UAV spy ship out on patrol and followed the vessel back to an asteroid. There's a small smuggler's sub-station."
Normally he would immediately queue up that commander on a video monitor, but with orders to operate under long-range radio silence, all information short of running into Shay'tan's war fleet was relayed ship-to-ship so the Sata'an Empire would not have an easy way to track their movements from a distance.
"Were they pirates?" Raphael asked. "Or run-of-the-mill smugglers?"
"That's just it," Glicki said. "The equipment there was all Sata'anic in nature, not Marid. They say they're from the Free Marid Confederation. Their ship is duly registered in Alliance databases, but I suspect the men flying those ships hail from one of the colonies Shay'tan conquered before the Marid started banding together and pushing back, not the Free Marid ones."
Raphael twirled a long, golden primary feather, wracking his brains for what this new information might mean.
"The Free Marid Confederation maintains its autonomy by playing both sides against the middle," Raphael said. He tapped his fingers on the conference table, mentally running through all the different case studies where the Alliance had successfully tempted the blue-men to turn on Shay'tan. "Offer the Marid an ungodly sum of money and see if they know the location of Earth."
"We already did that, Sir," Glicki said. "Every man on that base, right down to the old guy they had mopping the floors. Either Shay'tan suddenly found a way to make his Marid soldiers more loyal to him than to their wallets, or they really don't know."
"What were they resupplying?" Raphael asked.
"They said they met each week with a Sata'anic cargo ship … here," Major Sachiel pointed to a cluster of stars on the side of the spiral arm closest to the Sata'an Empire. "And they carried the cargo to here, where it was offloaded onto another Marid cargo vessel. They're just pieces in a supply chain."
"When was the last time they met up with these ships?" Raphael asked.
"Two months ago all shipments suddenly stopped," Glicki said. "Right about the time we received Mikhail's transmission."
An uneasy feeling settled into Raphael's gut.
"That doesn't bode well for Mikhail," Raphael said. "That means they had enough ships around that planet to pick up his broadcast. They don't want to risk their trading partners getting any ideas."
"Major Zathanael wants to know what to do with the smugglers, Sir?" Glicki asked. "They haven't committed any crime that we know of. They started abandoning the base weeks ago because they're running out of supplies. It's nothing but a dead asteroid. If we take their ships and leave them there, eventually they will run out of oxygen or starve to death."
Raphael tugged at a long, golden primary feather, considering his options.
"I don't know how long it will take us to find Earth," Raphael said. "Nor do I wish to keep such men as prisoners. But we can't let them contact Shay'tan and tip him off we're closing in on the planet."
"I have a suggestion," Major Sachiel said. "Though I think perhaps our esteemed Colonel Glick won't like it."
"I'll consider any reasonable suggestion," Raphael said.
"Why not give them enough non-technological supplies to survive on that pre-sentient seed world we just discovered, Sir?" Major Sachiel said. Sachiel tucked his white wings against his back, anticipating her reaction.
"No!" Glicki practically shouted. Her voice enhancement box made the sound come out tinny, as though it had an echo of other voices all saying no-no-no-no. "The Marid have little respect for emerging life forms! They could harm the pre-sentient species we just found! The Emperor would never condone it!"
Raphael leaned back in his chair, mindful not to crush his feathers.
"The Emperor put me in charge," Raphael said. He turned to Major Sachiel. "Relay orders to Major Zathanael to deposit the men on the pre-sentient seed world with any technology they need to survive, but nothing which can be cobbled together to send a subspace message or build a ship to get the Hades out of there. They may be living there quite a long time. Oh … and try to deposit them as far away as possible from any settlements of our new little friends."
"You can't do that!" Glicki slammed her armored hand down upon the conference table. "The Marid will use them as target practice or steal everything the creatures have built on their own!"
Raphael sat back in his chair, considering her concerns. She was right, of course. Had it been the Alliance who had found the Marid homeworld first all those centuries before, not Shay'tan, the planet would have been cordoned off and no species allowed to visit their world until the Marid had achieved intergalactic travel on their own. Usually at the point species became technologically advanced enough to start hopping planets, they were usually socially mature enough to not blow each other up.
Shay'tan, on the other hand, had offered the Marid technology in order to entice them to join his empire. The blue humanoids had ended up double-crossing both empires and doing their own thing.
"The Marid are not a vicious race," Raphael said. "Only an opportunistic one. If you promise the Marid our Emperor will reward them handsomely for acting as game wardens while they're cooling their heels, they may actually turn out to be good at it?
Glicki tilted her heart-shaped head, her compound eyes filled with betrayal.
"Thank you, Major Sachiel," Raphael said. "Dismissed. Glicki … you stay."
Glicki waited until Major Sachiel shut the door behind him before laying into him.
"How could you do that to an emerging species?" Glicki said. "If they set up a Marid colony there, we might never get that planet back from them!"
"It's either that," Raphael said softly, "or imprison men who've done no wrong. Or worse. Abandon them to die on an asteroid with no way to get resupplied."
"Argh!" Glicki's wings whirred with disgust. She turned away from him, her green exoskeleton stiff with anger. Her voice sounded chirpy and garbled as she gave her answer without using her vocal range extension box. "I hate it when you're right."
Raphael had no choice but to let his second-in-command and good friend stew. He was on his way to see Jophiel and Uriel any minute now. He would consult with her to see if she had a better solution. Her needle was already eleven hours overdue, but sometimes things like that happened if a more important fire needed to be put out first.
"We'll have drinks later," Raphael promised. He left her there to fret about the first pre-sentient insectoid species the Mantoids had been instrumental in discovering since they had themselves become mature
enough to join the Alliance.
"Brigadier-General Israfa," Lieutenant Rikur-tat caroaked the moment he exited the situation room. "The Supreme Commander-General's needle arrived while you were in the briefing. There was only one tablet device in it, Sir. We've got it queued up on that station over there." Rikur-tat pointed to a small screen with a long, narrow tube to divert unauthorized eyes.
Raphael's heart began to pound in his throat. Uriel? The last time he had gotten such a message, it had been Jophiel's second-in-command relaying news his son was dying. The mini-booth came equipped with headphones. He jammed them on his head and was relieved to see Jophiel merely looked frazzled, not as though she had been crying.
"Raphael, I don't dare say more in case this tablet gets intercepted before it finds you," Jophiel said. "Do not return to Haven. I repeat, do not return to Haven. And do not send my needle back with any electronic information which might tell an unfriendly party where you can be found. Uriel is … he's not sick, if that's what you're worried about. The Emperor will see that he's taken care of."
She hesitated, and then placed her hand upon the screen. Her expression softened.
"I miss you…"
Her expression was wistful as she reached up to click off the camera she'd been using to record her message.
Raphael replayed the message several times, searching for clues. There were none. She was worried. Uriel was fine. And for some reason she feared someone might intercept the message and figure out what they were up to. Did she fear there might be a Sata'anic mole somewhere in her ranks? Or worse? She'd hinted the Emperor feared something a lot worse than Shay'tan.
He ejected the tablet and tucked the device into his pocket with a heavy heart. Since he could not send back the cargo full of messages recorded by crewmen to their families, all carefully screened to make sure no top-secret information was inadvertently divulged, he decided to send the next best thing.
"Colonel Glicki," Raphael said as he spied his first officer standing back at her old station surveying intelligence reports. "It seems I shall be staying here."
Glicki tilted her green, heart-shaped head, still angry at him.
"Sir," Glicki said. "Shall I order the crew to load up the mail and exploration data from the last week?"
"No," Raphael said. "We have a special passenger who's getting deluxe passage back to the Eternal Emperor. Order Major Wur'zzz to sedate the little guy so he doesn't panic and knock off his oxygen mask while he's in transit. Load any non-data, biological samples that will make him comfortable once he gets there."
"Should they include their scientific reports on species and habitat?" Glicki asked.
"Handwritten genus labels only," Raphael said. "What it is and how it can help our new friend be comfortable while at the Emperor's laboratory. The Emperor will have to figure out the rest on his own."
Glicki nodded. He knew the same thought passed through her mind that passed through his. Jophiel must fear there was a mole somewhere within her ranks. Despite the seriousness of that information, somehow, her mood appeared to be lighter because her exoskeleton, which had darkened to a deep forest green while angry, lightened to its usual spring-green color.
"I take it you're authorizing Major Xathanael to offer the Free Marid smugglers a sizeable salary for acting as game wardens for the protected seed world?" Glicki asked.
Raphael shot her a grin that flashed his dimple.
"Even Shay'tan would never match the price."
Her gossamer under-wings humming as she schemed, Glicki set about carrying out his orders.
Chapter 60
November, 3,390 BC
Earth: Outside Village of Assur
Angelic Special Forces Colonel Mikhail Mannuki'ili
Mikhail
He sat across the chessboard from the small, dark-winged Angelic. Beside them a timer counted out the seconds until the boy had to make his move. The boy did not speak, but then he never did.
"Tá sé do bhogadh, Gabriel," Mikhail said. He pointed to the timer. "Tá tú beagnach as am."
Those sullen blue eyes were angry because he did not yet understand the game. With a chubby little hand, he picked up his black bishop and made an L-shaped move across the chess board to capture Mikhail's white queen.
"Mo banríon!" Mikhail pointed to the black bishop. "Ní sin an tslí go bhfuil píosa fichille ceaptha a bhogadh."
He stared at the timer ticking at the side of the chessboard, counting out the seconds until he could crush his opponent. The boy's lower lip quivered as he projected an image of him being -mean- directly into his mind. With a chubby arm, the boy stood up and swept the chess pieces onto the floor.
There was a knock upon the door.
"Mikhail!'
"Mikhail!" Mama called, her voice filled with terror. "Tá muid faoi ionsaí! Tóg Gabriel agus é a fháil amach anseo!"
The door crashed open.
Mama screamed...
The knocking grew louder, persistent, frantic.
“Mikhail! Mikhail! We’re under attack!”
Mikhail fought his way through the fog of too much work and too little sleep as he realized the frantic pounding was not part of his dream.
"Mikhail?" Ninsianna grumbled.
"I'll get it." He pulled on his pants and jumped downstairs still barefoot, spreading his wings to slow his descent. Immanu was already at the door, opening it to speak to the frantic messenger.
A tall, slender whip of a boy, not much older than Pareesa, stood at the door, panting from the exertion of running. The boy's name was Giv, one of his warriors-in-training, though like Pareesa the boy was a bit young to act as a full-fledged warrior. They had assigned such boys to aid the sentries or, as was more usually the case, to fetch them water and a bite to eat during the long, boring night shift.
“The sentries heard something moving in the dark,” Giv said. “They sent out a scout and he never came back, but they thought they heard a muffled scream. Something is out there on the plain!”
“Has anyone notified Chief Kiyan?” Mikhail asked.
“Another messenger has been sent to his house,” Giv said. “Should we assume he has already instituted the notification-tree?”
“The Chief will activate the tree even if he thinks it’s a false alarm,” Mikhail said. “Immanu … notify the group-leaders of the infantry. Ninsianna … tell the archers to call up their squads. Needa … set up the triage units we discussed.”
He was their husband and son-in-law, but when they were under attack, everyone in the village except for Chief Kiyan deferred to him.
“Giv,” Mikhail said. “Who are you assigned to notify?”
“I’ve got five junior warriors,” Giv said. "We are assigned to support the archers."
“Do that," Mikhail said. "And get your own weapons ready.”
Young or not, by the time a boy reached fourteen summers he was expected to contribute to the village defenses. If attacked, Giv would make sure the archers did not run out of arrows … and to fire off a few of his own if the supply lines were cut off.
“Sir!” Giv saluted and ran out the door.
Immanu and Needa followed after him, each with their own critical duties. Ninsianna donned her red cape and gathered her bow and quiver.
“Ninsianna,” his voice was hoarse with emotion. “Please be careful.”
Her golden eyes met his, filled with fear.
"She-who-is did not send me a dream," her lip trembled. "Why did SHE not warn me there was an enemy was creeping up on us?"
Yes. Why hadn't she warned them? It was the first time he’d seen Ninsianna's faith in the goddess shaken, as was his each day She-who-is wedged her agenda into his marriage.
The heck with HER! He would not go into battle with this thing squatting between them like a fat, ugly toad. He pulled Ninsianna into his arms and wings, thankful adrenaline made her forget she was angry at him. She melted against him, the way she had when they'd first been courting.
“Perh
aps the goddess has limitations?” he said. “The same as the Eternal Emperor or the Cherubim god?”
Ninsianna stiffened. “You should not say such things about the goddess that rules All-That-Is.”
“Why does she need us, then?” Mikhail held her so she could not escape. "Think, Ninsianna. Why?"
Ninsianna stiffened, and then she relaxed.
“Even the goddess sometimes needs a little help,” Ninsianna said. Whatever she had just resolved within her own mind, it appeared not to shake her faith. She pressed her cheek against his chest.
Mikhail inhaled the intoxicating mixture of soap root and her pregnancy. The scent ignited some ancient instinct to protect his family that ran deeper than the skills he'd been trained to provide as part of the Emperor's armies. The impulse thrummed through his tissues, whispering to be aggressive, to attack, to smite this enemy so they would not approach his young.
“You are with child," Mikhail pressed his lips against her ear. "Please be careful. I cannot fight unless I know you are safe.”
"I must provide cover fire for our warriors," Ninsianna trembled, but stood firm in her duties.
“I don’t want you to….”
Ninsianna's eyes glowed brighter, so bright they outshone the single lantern Immanu had lit when he had answered the door.
“If your village falls, Sword of the Gods,” SHE said, “my Chosen One will not be safe. They will rape her and then they will kill her.”
A sense of electrification tingled through Mikhail’s muscles, though whether it was from the deity he now held in his arms or his own flesh trembling with fear at the goddess' ominous warning, he could not tell. Only one emotion did he know for certain. Anger.
"Why didn't you warn us sooner?" Mikhail glared at those golden eyes which were not his wife's. "So we would have more time to organize to defend this village?"
"That is not -my- job, Champion," SHE gave him a disdainful look, "but HIS."
He suppressed the anger HER words inspired, that terrifying place where his anger stopped burning hot and began to burn cold like a tomb in winter. Empty. Terrifying. Vast power lay untapped in that place, waiting for him to draw upon it and smite HIS enemies. It tempted him, eager to please She-who-is.
Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 64
