by Michael Ryan
A new face appeared among the guards. “Follow me,” he said.
We left the building. The shock of direct sunlight hitting my pale eyes for the first time in months sent a stabbing pain through my head. I instinctively waited for relief, but none came. After a beat, I realized I wasn’t in my armor…
I was directed to a civilian transport heli-jet. I climbed inside and strapped myself in. The guard spoke into an intercom and left the aircraft. The door closed automatically soon afterward, and I was alone in the passenger section.
“This is your captain,” a voice said through speakers in the bulkhead wall. “Please ensure you’re properly belted into your seat.”
He didn’t speak again until several hours later when I was instructed to exit the craft. During our flight, the view screens had remained off. The direction of our travel and our distance from Vipsunpolis were complete mysteries to me.
The door opened, and I exited.
I was still alone when I stepped onto the tarmac, and I began walking toward the only visible building. The landscape surrounding the heli-jet pad comprised of rolling meadows and grazing pecoraz. I entered the structure as my ride lifted back into the sky.
“Hello, Sergeant Ford,” an attractive Rhan female with an eager smile said. She appeared to be fourteen. Catching the look I gave her, she put her hand on her sidearm. “Yes, I look young. But I’m an expert marksman, I can assure you. This way, please.”
She led me out the rear of the building, staying far enough ahead to avert any assault I might try. An unarmored mini-transport sat waiting.
“It’s been programmed,” she said. “You can expect the trip to last an hour and a half, depending on traffic. Good day.”
The route wended through fields of purplish-green grass. I suspected the Talamz sun had a slightly different spectrum of light, but otherwise the plants and animals weren’t remarkably different than those on Earth and Purvas. The pecoraz that grazed in the fields must have numbered in the tens of thousands. Animals similar to cows and horses appeared as I passed small farms. I’d been told the Rhans made dishes from all the mammals, including those that the Meckos traditionally kept as pets.
The meadows and ranches gave way to a small town, and I spotted people in the streets. Families walked together, and the sight of a young boy holding his mother’s hand struck me like a blow to the chest. I tried looking away, but couldn’t.
Alone in my grief, I broke into quiet sobs.
It was cathartic to feel human again; I cursed the unknown perpetrators who’d massacred my family, and renewed my vow of revenge.
The transport stopped fifteen minutes later in front of a nondescript warehouse, and I disembarked.
Pow greeted me when I entered the building. He was dressed in a white lab coat, and his name was embroidered above the right chest pocket: Ctunjurz Requienter.
“Please don’t be angry, Avery,” he said.
“I…”
“It’s a long story. Follow me, and I’ll explain.”
CHAPTER THREE
Everything about war is simple. But simple things are often the hardest to accomplish.
~Professor Clasibe Toreelentz
Two years earlier – a year before the massacre in Vipsunpolis.
09AUG2308 HCE
Michishio factory, Wresixer Region, Chemecko, Planet Talamz
Lieutenant Colonel Balestain was introduced to the senior staff of the Michishio factory and their developmental team leads.
Senior officials in the Chemecko Department of Intergalactic Trade and Development had assigned the nation’s top mathematicians and theoretical astrophysicists to lead the research and development section at Michishio Industries, the country’s first Belkinotic drive manufacturer.
Balestain detested dog-and-pony shows.
His government, and those he secretly negotiated with, demanded that he overcome his distaste for ceremonies because he was preternaturally gifted in public relations. While he was forced to acquiesce, he’d also managed to negotiate a weekend getaway with a Rhan spy. He’d grown increasingly fond of her and her many talents, so he considered the meeting a small price to pay. He pretended to pay attention with great enthusiasm.
The woman was a goddess, after all.
The Michishio factory was a crucial component in the Chemecko military-industrial complex. The factory had undergone renovations for transition into building Belkinotic drives the year before Balestain’s visit.
Inter-dimensional shift physics research and development was the highest funded program in the country; the benefits of intergalactic travel were so vast and rich that even military spending was eclipsed.
The lead researcher in the government’s most secret and expensive program was Ctunjurz Requienter.
Lieutenant Colonel Balestain and Ctunjurz Requienter were introduced. An aide with a clipped accent said, “I believe he’s the greatest mathematician in the history of Chemecko.”
“I’ve heard he’s the greatest mathematician in all of history,” Balestain said. He extended his hands and crossed his forearms in the manner traditional among upper-class Meckos. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise, sir,” Ctunjurz said. “Please allow me to take you on a short tour.”
They walked along massive machines that were as tall as buildings and extended for hundreds of meters into the factory.
“Impressive,” the lieutenant colonel said.
“It’s been a difficult process changing our tooling after meeting with Tedesconian engineers. Unfortunately, portions of our theoretical assumptions were off the mark. But, luckily for our brave test pilots, we were able to incorporate the work of Dr. Belkinotic into our processes.”
Ctunjurz pointed to a one-meter-square display panel mounted on one of the humming processors. “This charts our progress on any structural element.”
Balestain appeared interested and nodded when appropriate.
Ctunjurz touched the upper corner of the display panel. “We can call up the location of any component and see its scheduled completion time. One of our greatest difficulties is ensuring the parts are manufactured in the most efficient order. Not all pieces are made here, of course, which adds to the complexity of building a starship. A delay in the production of even the most seemingly insignificant item number can throw the entire manufacturing process into chaos.”
He entered a sequence of numbers on the screen.
“As you can see here, this part’s completion date is next week. However” – he pushed another set of numbers – “the piece you see here is delayed. The conflict two months ago with the Rhanskad along the border…you see the problem.”
“Yes,” Balestain said. “One of my primary missions on Talamz is to help your government obtain a permanent cease-fire with the Rhans. The Errusiakos’ discovery of Talamz and their alliance with the Rhanskad has caused unforeseen problems. The Errus have a long history of neutrality. However, their involvement here seems to have revealed an unusually aggressive nature. I suspect Tedesconian involvement.”
“The Teds are aggressive on Earth?” Ctunjurz asked.
“Yes. On Purvas, too. Mixing with humans has degraded their warlike temperament into something far worse.”
“The human species is warlike?”
“Warmongering and vulgar,” Balestain said with obvious arrogance and superiority. “Unlike Chemeckos, humans are unrefined. They tend towards ignorance and superstition.”
“They developed starships?”
“No. Like talarrstans, the humans were on the right path. However, they didn’t possess a mathematician with half your intelligence.”
“I suppose I should be flattered, sir,” the researcher said. “But, excuse me for saying so, I suspect your accolades have an ulterior motive.”
Balestain’s face creased with a wan smile. “My praise is warranted, Professor Requienter. However I do have a request for you. I’d like to get your opinion on a short vid clip taken on Purvas
during a skirmish.”
“Certainly,” he said.
“Can you supply a projector that will accommodate my eTab-7?” Balestain asked, holding up his mini-tablet.
“Yes,” Ctunjurz said, “in my office.”
Balestain connected to the projector and played the clip.
It showed the wreckage of a massive starship in the middle of the desert.
“That’s the Harea,” Balestain said. “A treacherous expanse of sand that has buried more secrets than a corrupt Ted senator. As you’ll see in a moment” – he pointed to a spot on the wall where the projected images played – “the scale of the ship will soon become apparent.”
Mechas and heli-jets entered the scene.
Troops moved across the sand.
A firefight ensued.
Then, finally, a close-up of an alien came into focus.
“Versus,” Ctunjurz whispered. “That’s impressive.”
The armored aliens were tall, fast, and appeared to have tails.
“Is that an armament or…”
Balestain paused the clip. He walked to the wall and ran his finger along the curvature of the armor that indicated a tailed creature wore the suit. “We don’t know. These soldiers all self-terminated. You’ll see in a moment the destruction they caused. Although we were able to salvage some components, most of their ship was destroyed. I’m attempting to secure permission from my government to share what we salvaged with you.”
He restarted the video.
Ctunjurz watched the aliens self-destruct instead of allowing themselves to be captured, obliterating the friendly forces as well. Next, the video panned to the crashed ship. A fire raged in the upper portion, the result of an internal explosion.
“That is all,” Balestain said. “I’ve been working diligently to find more information about the aliens.”
“And?” Ctunjurz asked. He sat down and said, “Lights.” The office was bathed in warm tones, and the professor pointed to a chair. “Please. Explain to me what else you’ve discovered.”
“I know little else,” Balestain admitted. “It’s unfortunate. What I do understand is that whatever this species wants, it wasn’t on Purvas to make friends. They’re obviously technologically advanced. Whether or not they’ve discovered Earth or Talamz is uncertain. But you can bank on the fact that because they were on Purvas, they’ll find the other two in the near future if they haven’t already.”
Ctunjurz frowned. “And friendly introductions don’t seem likely, do they?”
“No,” he answered. “Which brings me to my proposal.”
“Go on.”
“We’ll provide you with samples of everything we pulled from the wreckage, including components our best minds haven’t been able to decipher. In return, Michishio Industries will provide us with all its military research and development. Prototypes. Structural plans. Everything.”
“I’m a researcher, Colonel Balestain. I have no authority to–”
Balestain interrupted with an extended hand. “You have influence, Professor. My government wants your government to agree to the terms of a deal that you can endorse and support. Here, look at these.”
The lieutenant colonel removed several small components from his pocket and handed them to Ctunjurz.
“Versus,” he said. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe your own eyes, Professor.”
Ctunjurz retrieved a loupe and inspected the pieces. “The level of integration is amazing,” he said. He looked up and eyed the senior officer. “You have more like this?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said with his signature one-eyed smile.
Within a week, a secret trade deal was made.
The Tedesconian shadow government stepped into power and officially declared themselves leaders of a newly formed independent state outside the jurisdiction of the old guard and the hated Guritains. A relatively bloodless coup was accomplished in record time.
The Chemeckos had handed over such powerful military hardware that the Guritain president and his war cabinet had no choice but to recognize the newly formed power. To resist them would have restarted a decade-long war they were ill-equipped to fight.
Once that had been accomplished, Balestain’s next task was to influence the Rhanskads and the Errusiakos to ally with the Teds instead of the Gurts.
“So that’s how I got involved with Major Balestain,” Pow said. “He was a lieutenant colonel when I met him. He took a drop in rank to go back out into the field and–”
“Massacre innocent people,” I said.
Pow nodded in agreement. “Yes.”
“You don’t see a problem with that?” I asked.
“You butchered my entire staff, Avery. They were unarmed and defenseless.” Pow stood with fists shaking by his sides and stared at me without flinching. “I had friends working in the lab that night. They were scientists – researchers and mathematicians, not soldiers… I watched you kill them all.”
His face reddened, and tears welled in his accusing eyes. “I wanted to kill you. I hated you.”
Shame flooded through me, and I was embarrassed by his indictment of my behavior. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because over time I realized you were just a soldier doing your job.” He took a deep breath and reined in his emotions. “Why did I spare your life? I eavesdropped on you and Callie talking about your lost children. I understood your pain because of what you’d done to me. Ultimately, I felt sympathy for you. I’d lost friends, and that hurt me deeply. I cannot fathom losing children.” Pow rubbed his eyes. “I realized that if I’d been in your shoes, I might have acted the same. When I saw it that way, I realized we aren’t much different. I had to admit to myself that I’d designed instruments of war that were used to kill. Even though I hadn’t pulled the trigger myself, I still bore responsibility.”
“In the end, we’re all killers, aren’t we?” I asked. I hung my head and swallowed. Holding back tears, I said, “I’m glad you didn’t slit my throat in the middle of the night.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“But, okay, Pow. I was a lowly sergeant doing my job. You were working in research. We were both just following orders. But can you say the same thing about Major Butcher?”
Pow appeared embarrassed, but he spoke anyway. “Major Balestain told me what you did…to end the Tetra War.”
Shocked and feeling an encroaching fear of exposure, I blurted, “What?”
“He said he was in a battle against you in the Biragon – that you were the one who took the shot that destroyed his mecha and burned his face.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I was the one.”
“He also said you’d stolen a virus.”
I closed my eyes. Shame burned brightly across my face. I’d chosen to retrieve a virus that had killed billions; how could I stand in judgment of Balestain?
I didn’t know.
“Yes,” I said. I looked Pow in the eyes. “I felt that it would save more lives than it cost.”
“And Balestain feels the same, Avery,” Pow stated. “He takes the same position as you. Killing a million to save ten million is mathematically sound. It seems you’ve both landed on the same side of the coin when asked whether it’s acceptable to sacrifice the lives of the innocent to save a greater number.”
“Jesus,” I said.
“Another appropriate example,” Pow said, “if the stories are true.”
“I never considered Balestain anything but a monster.”
“And if your name was released to the Purvas media? If you were outed as the one responsible for the virus outbreak?”
“I’d be murdered in an hour,” I whispered.
“You’re always overly optimistic,” Pow said. “You’d be dead within a minute.” He motioned to me. “Come on. The major is waiting to meet you.”
Major Balestain was impressive.
I immediately suspected he was part human.
Among upper-cla
ss Teds and Gurts, such things were never discussed, and it was doubtful he’d acknowledge his apparent human heritage. He wore a metallic mask over the left side of his face, partially hiding his injuries. His good eye bored a hole through me as if I were in the sights of a gun scope.
In spite of his apparent human side, his coppery skin and erect stature were classic Tedesconian. I wondered if he had a human grandparent, as I had a Guritain one. If so, he’d had a rough childhood. Partial breeds faced hateful prejudices in all strata of society, especially back in the early days of the new era.
I approached him with trepidation.
I’d been facing down men in deadly situations for years, so this was an odd feeling for me. I reminded myself he wasn’t going to kill me if he hadn’t already.
If Pow’s reasoning was correct, neither of us stood to benefit from further animosity.
“Sergeant Ford,” he said in a heavily accented, but powerful, voice.
“Major Balestain.” I stared back at him. “I expect you’re taking good care of my wife and friends.”
An almost friendly smile broke across his face. “I’ll honor my side of the bargain.”
I looked at him quizzically. “I hadn’t realized we’d made a bargain. I don’t recall a negotiation.”
“Yes, of course, Avery. May I call you Avery?”
“Major,” I said, nodding my head.
“Your wife and friends are receiving the best possible care. A seemingly impossible fact I found hard to accept is the Rhans have better doctors than chefs. I’m told your companions need to remain sedated for weeks to ensure they fully recover. You’ll be allowed to see them soon.”
“I’d like to see them as soon as possible,” I said. “As a sign of good faith.”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “You can be confident I didn’t pull them from the battlefield only to allow them to come to harm, Sergeant Ford. Now, we have much to discuss.” He held out open hands in a friendly gesture. “When you allowed me to save your wife, you signed the deal we’re about to negotiate. One thing is certain: you cannot return to the Guritains.”
