Forge of War (Jack of Harts)

by Pryde, Medron

  Lost

  The shuttle left the gleaming-white Guardian Light behind, dropping down towards New Earth under full gravity control. It amazed Charles how silently the small Peloran shuttle could move. It was far more silent than any American shuttle he had ever flown in. Even when it entered the atmosphere it remained utterly silent, the dull roar that usually accompanied that rush of air past the hull absent. The shuttle slowed to a halt with an effortless pulse of the engines at the last second, and a slight bump passed through to his feet as it made contact with the landing field.

  Placing his amazement to the side, Charles rose from his seat, grabbed his white cowboy hat off its hook, and turned to the other Cowboys. “And we’re here, everybody,” Charles said with a smile. “Check your uniforms before debarking. I want everybody looking good out there.” He placed the cowboy hat on his head and began to wave his soldiers out.

  “Oorah,” The Cowboys responded with some chuckles.

  Charles double-checked his Dress Whites, pulling a suspicious hair off one sleeve, and watched the Cowboys walk down the aisle. One cyber after another jumped off her pilot’s shoulder, growing to full size on the way down, and preceded them out. Charles heard Jack humming the clown car song and the other Cowboys began to laugh. Charles brought his hand up and bit his finger to keep himself from laughing.

  “Shut it, Jester!” Charles shouted after getting his voice most of the way under control. He then coughed into his white glove to keep it clear.

  “Aye, aye, Chief,” Jack answered with a wink.

  Charles shook his head and waved them out, watching both cybers jump down. He frowned in thought, wondering what exactly that meant for the future. Somehow he thought it meant more than the technological superiority that the silent Peloran shuttle betrayed. He waved the other Cowboys out and followed them, Dorothy jumping down to the deck to lead him out in her Dress Whites. She looked different in white. Better. He pursed his lips, considering exactly how he thought about that. And wondering what she would think about him thinking that.

  He followed her down the ramp, onto the landing field, and turned to look at the gleaming-white shuttle. The hatch closed, the shuttle rose up on silent gravity, rotated to point straight up, and flashed into the sky with an acceleration rate only a craft that could control gravity itself could manage. Charles frowned up after the shuttle, his mind considering the Peloran technologies again. They were always so silent. He heard the soft hum of the holoprojectors in his uniform that Dorothy was using to stand beside him and pursed his lips again. Then Jack walked over and stopped next to him.

  “Hey Chief.”

  Charles took in a deep breath and lowered his gaze to meet Jack’s with a raised eyebrow. “Jester,” he said in a tone that invited Jack to go on about his way, too much on his mind for more of Jack’s small talk.

  As usual, Jack ignored his wishes. “Old home week?”

  Charles cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, the large shipping industry his family ran out of New Earth coming to mind for the first time. “My family has business interests here,” he said, purposefully holding back any further information. “Why?”

  Jack shrugged. “Just wondering if you’re off to visit them?”

  Charles shook his head and turned away from Jack. The time for woolgathering was over. “Cowboys!” he shouted to all the soldiers on the landing field. “Be back here in thirty-six hours, ready to fly. Liberty begins…now.”

  The Cowboys shouted a hearty “Oorah!” and turned to walk towards the main terminal not far away.

  “No,” Charles said, back in his normal conversational tone.

  Jack blinked, and Charles relished the look of confusion on the man’s face. He did not get to see it as much as he wanted. “Why?” Jack finally asked.

  Charles sighed, considering the shuttle again. “I have something more important to do.” He looked up after the departing shuttle again, now a pinpoint of light so far up even his eyes could barely see it. It was amazing how the Peloran did that so easily. It would have taken an American shuttle twice as long to make the climb, and it would have been far louder.

  “Ah.” Jack smiled. “Good call then. I’m sure you wouldn’t want old Aunt Bessie’s Fruitcake.”

  A shiver ran down Charles’ spine. “Oh Hell no!” he said, even though he had no Aunt Bessie. He had someone similar in the family though, and that was enough to bring him back into the present. He pulled his mind away from that woman, and the brooding, and returned his concentration to Jack.

  “Well, if you’re interested, you can always go shopping with us,” Jack said with a wave towards Betty and Jasmine.

  Charles smiled and allowed a shudder of horror to escape. “No thanks.”

  Jack spread his arms out wide in a “how bad could it be?” gesture. “Come on, man, share the danger? We’ve flown into certain death together. This can’t possibly be that bad…”

  Charles shook his head. Before he commanded the Cowboys, he had kept a distance from the others because they didn’t trust him. That had changed after he took command, but command generated a distance of its own. In this moment though, looking between Jack and his two cybers, the urge to indulge in some good-natured ribbing rose to the fore of his mind. He gave into it, producing a wicked smile reserved only for the poor and innocent victim of a horrible fate, and opened his mouth. “Accompanying women on a shopping trip is a fate worse than death. I will mourn your passing.”

  Jack held his hands out in a defensive gesture. “Hey, they’re cybers. No bags to carry.”

  Charles shook his head again. Jack truly had no idea what he was in for. Charles thought about warning him, but then decided it was best for Jack to learn from experience. “Good luck with that,” he said the wicked grin still solidly in place.

  Jack shrugged and turned to walk away. He stopped cold and spun back to Charles. “Hey, if something important comes up, call me,” he said in a very rare-for-him sincere tone.

  Charles felt a flicker of surprise at the younger man’s statement, and the look on his face. He had a feeling. Charles nodded, accepting the warning it betrayed. “Thank you for the offer.” Matters were not as quiet as they appeared. Charles could feel it too. “I will keep it in mind.” But now was not the time to deny his men and women a chance to relax. “Now go enjoy your liberty,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir!” Jack shouted back with a jaunty salute, and turned to amble away. The man stepped between Betty and Jasmine, reached his arms out to grab each of them around the waist, pulled them along with him. “Come on, girls. We’ve got some fun to track down.”

  “Yes, Jack,” they chorused in matching amused tones.

  Charles shook his head, wondering if Jack truly realized what was happening. Probably not in words. He did not seem to be a man who considered the future. Charles shared a look with Dorothy, catching her amused approval of the situation. Charles pursed his lips, wondering which members of that trio were the luckiest to be alive. After a moment, he sighed and wished them all a little more luck. He had a feeling they would need it. Then with eyes scanning every ship approaching or leaving the landing field he followed them away from the shuttle’s landing spot.

  He walked into the terminal behind them and saw the Christmas decorations filling it from one end to the other, from floor to ceiling. It truly was an impressive collection of Christmas trees covered in lights, Yule logs burning in fireplaces, and man-sized candy canes hanging from lights. Santa’s sleigh flew through the air above everybody’s heads, pulled by nine little reindeer, with Santa waving and hohohoing at the people below. A nativity scene nestled against one wall, just outside the main traffic pattern so it could escape the arriving passengers intact. And a Christmas carol played from speakers embedded throughout the terminal, bringing tidings of good cheer to the arriving passengers.

  “Impressive,” Charles whispered and began to make his way through the crowd of passengers walking out of a boarding ramp connected to anot
her craft. Dorothy turned and smiled, agreeing with him. They made their way to the exit, stepped out, and Charles scanned the Christmas-decorated city street before them. “How do we get there again?”

  “That way,” Dorothy said with a wave of her hand.

  Charles followed her wave beneath the Christmas lights and wreaths. They did not speak more than some occasional directions on their way. Charles had never been one for small talk, and in that way Dorothy matched him perfectly. She was always there, watching, waiting, ready to help. She was the perfect partner. They turned a corner and Charles whistled at the sight before them. A grand stone cathedral towered into the air above them. Arches held up the entryway roof that protected the massive wooden doors from the weather. A cross crowned the peak of the roof, and a massive bell tower reached up into the sky from the side of the building. It was a truly grand cathedral that reminded him of some of the finest New England churches he’d seen.

  As they approached the front door, he saw a small nativity scene off to the side. As the distance dropped, he realized it was human-scale and gulped as he put the cathedral into its correct scale. “Wow,” he whispered again. Dorothy smiled again but continued to keep pace with him. “You are certain this is where he is?” Charles asked.

  “Yes,” she answered and cocked her head to the side in amusement.

  Charles let out a long breath as they finally reached the steps and walked up them. The doors opened with the perfect creak of wood on iron hinges that he expected to hear from a building that looked half a millennium old. That it could not possibly be more than two centuries old was all the more impressive. Somebody had taken extreme care in crafting this building. They walked into the grand cathedral and Charles heard his footsteps echo on the smooth stone floor, bouncing off the walls and ceiling far above him. His eyes scanned up to see the suns shining in through stained glass windows showing scenes from the Bible. He recognized Noah’s Ark and several scenes with Jesus, but not many of the others.

  “Wow,” he said one more time, and his voice echoed through the solemn building. This was easily a match for any cathedral he’d been to back home. Not that he had many occasions to go to them, other than marriages and funerals. He walked to the front of the sanctuary, past row after row of hard wood pews that had to be a pain to sit in. They looked to be the same pews he remembered from Uncle Theodore’s funeral, the ones that kept him sitting straight up and unable to relax. He gritted his teeth, assuming that the priests or pastor or whatever liked it that way. He hadn’t thought John would be one of them though. He gritted his teeth and sat down in the front pew, looking up at the massive cross on the wall behind the choir stands. He blinked and looked at Dorothy in surprise. The pew was perfectly carved, comfortable to sit on.

  She smiled at him in amusement again and sat down on his right. He gritted his teeth, not entirely pleased at the idea of being so amusing to her, but seeing the humor of the situation.

  The man Charles had come to see walked into the sanctuary in a simple black suit. He smiled at Charles with a warm gaze and spread his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “How can I hel-” he froze in mid sentence, staring at Charles, and recognition filled his eyes. “Chuck!” he shouted, happiness filling his voice, and rushed forward to wrap Charles up in a bear hug.

  “John,” Charles said to his old friend in a strained voice, struggling against the crush of John’s arms.

  John released him and stepped back with a smile, turning his attention to Dorothy. “And who is this vision of beauty you bring with you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. “Has someone finally tamed you?”

  “I am Dorothy,” Dorothy answered and pointed to the rank pin on her uniform. “We are partners,” she finished with a smile.

  John sighed, projecting disappointment. “Well, it is still a pleasure to meet you.” Then he granted her a beaming smile. “I can’t remember the last time he brought a pretty girl to church.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” she returned.

  “Easy you old lecher,” Charles said, a hint of the amusement he felt leaking through the gruff warning he was trying to project.

  John harrumphed and gave Dorothy a smile of pure innocence. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but I put aside my youthful indiscretions when I found the Lord. But He didn’t make me blind,” he finished with a wink.

  Dorothy accepted the implied compliment with a nod and a smile.

  John returned his attention to Charles and sat down on his left. “I always hoped I’d see you in here.”

  Charles examined him for a few seconds before answering. “I know.”

  John leaned back into the pew with a smile. “So, since she’s not making an honest man out of you, what brings you here?”

  Charles turned to see the amused smile on Dorothy’s face. He shook his head and sighed before answering. “Questions.”

  John gave him a speculative look. “We all have questions, but somehow I didn’t expect you coming here with them.”

  Charles shrugged. “I wasn’t really coming here. I was coming to you.”

  “Ah,” John said in understanding. “I must warn you that my answers may not please you.”

  “I know,” Charles said. “But I trust you.”

  John nodded. “You can trust me with anything.” He spread his hands out wide again. “So what questions do you have?”

  Charles chewed his lower lip, considering how to say it. Then he sighed and bulled right in. “Have you dealt with the aliens out here?”

  John pursed his lips and let out a long breath. “Well, I’ve dealt with the Peloran of course. I’ve met one of the Arnam too, but they don’t travel this far much. I’ve also talked with a Roderan that came this way a time or two. Not many alien converts yet, you know. Why do you ask?”

  Charles pursed his lips. “My family has…extensive business interests.”

  John’s lips thinned in displeasure. “I know,” he said in the closest thing to a cool tone he’d used since seeing Charles.

  Charles shook his head. “I…I suppose you would.”

  John waved that away as water under the bridge and smiled again. “What are you beating around the bush about?”

  Charles matched his smile, happy to have a friend he could turn to. “I am trying to find if the names they give us are truly their names or…if they are choosing names to make us think they are something they are not.”

  John blinked and Charles could see the wheels turning in his mind. After a few seconds, John frowned and looked directly at Charles. “You lost me. Could you start from the beginning, please? I have the feeling this is important.”

  Charles smiled. He had gotten his friend’s attention. That was good. He would need it. “My family sent negotiators to the Roderan homeworld. It is named Svarga.”

  John rubbed his jaw and nodded. “OK. I gather that means something to you. What?”

  Charles leaned back in the pew. He had John. Now he just had to pull him in. “I have done some research, and it happens that Rod and Svarga were ancient Slavic gods worshiped in what is now Russia before that came in and took over,” he finished with a wave at the cross.

  “Oh,” John said in a voice that suggested deep contemplation. “That’s…interesting.”

  Charles smiled. “Yes. Then there are the Peloran and the Arnam.”

  John frowned. “What about them?”

  Charles cleared his throat. “The people who created them came from a planet called Albion, and the name the Peloran call them is the People of Danaan.”

  John’s frown deepened, and Charles saw him pull something out of a deep memory. “Isn’t Albion another name for…the British Isles?”

  Charles chuckled, impressed that John had remembered that little datum. “Yes it is. The People of Danaan settled in Ireland possibly…four thousand years ago according to our histories. It is also in some traditions a name given to the Otherworld, literally another world that the Celts sometimes found themselves traveling to.�
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  John rubbed his jaw in deep thought. “That’s…very interesting. I suppose this ties into the Shang’s arrival, doesn’t it?”

  Charles nodded in approval. “Yes.”

  John licked his lips, looking uncomfortable with the discussion. “I thought that was ruled a hoax.”

  Charles smiled. “It was ruled a hoax, by the best experts Washington could buy. You know my family owns HW News, right?”

  John nodded.

  “Well, I saw the order to the media to report the hoax. I also saw the original transmission and all the tracking information our satellites could generate on it. It came from the Shang fleet, not from that rogue satellite.”

  “Damn. Sorry, Lord.” John said with a glance towards the cross. He turned back to Charles and shook his head. “So are you going to say that something called the Shang actually were on Earth in the past?”

  Charles smiled. “Very close. It was the Shangdi. The Emperors of the Shang Dynasty of ancient China were supposedly sons of Shangdi, the ultimate god of their mythology.”

  John sighed and covered his eyes with one hand. “Why didn’t anybody report that when the Shang first arrived?” he asked in a pained voice.

  Charles let out a long breath. “They did. In China. From what I uncovered on American news sources, they tried. But every fax and cast that published it was hacked and burned. The rest fell in line pretty quick.”

  John frowned. “How do you know this?”

  Charles gave John a dangerous smile. “Because one of the hackers that did the burning is on my father’s permanent payroll.

  John’s frown turned angry. “You’re describing an organized disinformation campaign by the government about the Shang,” he said in a dangerous tone that Charles well remembered from their youth.