by David Winnie
Why?” grumbled the bored Gragnar.
“The Terran Queen is addressing the big council. She’s a tiny thing, looks more like one of their gadneyk children than an adult. I wouldn’t object to sharing this yar-pho station with her. Alone. Just to see how much roll and tickle she could take before I gadrog her.”
Well, he was bored. Gragnar turned on his vid. The image showed a Terran. Muirygek was right, she was intriguingly small for a Terran. She had that long yellow fur he’d like to pull on while he gadrog her, then break her neck when he gadrogasse. He remembered one raid when…Terrans! Terran troops were shooting up the Bougartd delegation! The Terran woman yelled something in her language before she stomped out.
His scanner howled for attention. Another signal, as undecipherable as the first. “Tora! Tora! Tora!” What language was that; what was it supposed to mean? Then his proximity alarm screamed. He switched the vid to external view and froze.
Space unfolded before his eyes. More than two hundred Terran warships were exiting otherspace. Hundreds of missiles hurtled toward his station. He hit the alarm, waking his roommates just in time to experience the split-second immolation of Listening Station Thirty.
The outer worlds were slaughtered in the first minutes. Two listening posts managed to get off partial warnings before they became floating clouds of dust. The emergency grid designed to protect the outer planets was never activated. Command centers, weapons platforms, all were destroyed in the first minutes of the attack. Terra’s four thousand remaining missiles of the first wave, followed by eight thousand in the second wave, headed to the inner system.
The Bougartd had only a few minutes’ warning before the first satellite was destroyed, but the inner system defensive grid was partially activated. They fired their own missiles and beam weapons at the shadow of destruction headed to the most densely populated worlds.
Most of the asteroids were deflected or destroyed. Five fell on the Bougartd Prime, creating immediate earthquake and tsunamis. The other two worlds were also hit, the smallest of the three absorbing ten impacts of five metric ton asteroids hurtling at half-light speed. Three punched completely through the original home world of the Bougartd. The planet was shattered into pieces in minutes.
The second wave of missiles came into play, escorted by fighters. Already battered, the Bougartd defensive system of stations and satellites collapsed. The system had taken more damage in minutes than it was created to expect over the course of days or weeks. Terran fighters darted about, looking for targets, harassing Bougartd defenses and adding to the confusion. A few Bougartd ships got underway, but were swarmed by the fighters now arriving on the scene.
The outer worlds fell under bombardment by the old and seasoned dreadnaughts. A Bougartd raider jumped into the system and rammed itself into one, the Battleaxe. The dreadnaught left orbit and burned fiercely for three days before the brave crew could put out the fires and regain control of their vessel. The proud Battleaxe returned to Jupiter station for repairs under his own power.
Newer ships with the latest technology positioned themselves over the two remaining inner worlds, Garssia and Womand. They trained meson weapons on the planets and began bombardment. Ground based weapons were destroyed first, then the industry. Finally, the cities felt Queen Annika’s wrath. The dreadnaughts had been built to be weapons of terror. This day, they lived up to their reputation as every city, town and village on the two worlds was reduced to piles of rubble and ash. Smoke obscured the cities as they burned. Still, the dreadnaughts continued to fire.
After two days, surrender calls began to issue from the planets. Appeals for mercy begging, pleading for their lives were stoically ignored. The Terran fleet continued its bombardment.
On the morning of the fifth day, the guns went silent. Drop ships of troops, escorted by Buccaneer fighters, were deployed. There were small bands of survivors scattered about, they reported, but no resistance. The cities were nothing but vast fields of wreckage.
Sarcina and her small band of survivors clawed out of the shelter. Surveying what remained of Mornatd, she thought, maybe we should crawl back underground and die there. The city of her birth where she grew up, met and conjoined her mate and gave birth to their children, was a grey mound of rubble. Over it all lay a pallor and stench of smoke, penetrated in places by the sharp odor of ozone.
They all looked to her, the forty survivors from the shelter. She picked a direction she thought would take them from the city and struck out. Most followed her, but a dozen stayed behind, deciding then and there to die.
Small Terran ships flew overhead, but there were no more bombs, thank the Maker. They circled the motley group and flew off. Around noon, a shuttle hovered over them and in barely recognizable Bougartdesse ordered, “Continue to move south. There is camp two miles in that direction.”
Sarcina had no better ideas, so they continued to march. More survivors dropped, exhausted, refusing to go on. She couldn’t stop. Surely there would be food, water and shelter at this Terran camp.
They arrived. The guards didn’t look like any Terrans she had seen on news broadcasts. They were all smaller than she, and wore green and brown mottled armor. Helmets enclosed their heads, making them look like upright insects. Two eerie, glowing, buttery eyes were on opposite sides of those helmets. They led Sarcina’s little group to a tent, gave them water from a community cup, then examined each survivor. The sick and injured were separated, the remainder fitted with metal collars. One woman, her skin nearly white with exhaustion, held a hungry infant that wouldn’t stop crying. A soldier took the child and cradled it, bounced it up and down for a few moments. When the baby Bougartd didn’t stop squalling, the soldier snapped the its neck and tossed it to one side.
They huddled outside as darkness fell. No food, no more water was given them. Third Season approached, and with it the evening rains. No shelter or blankets were offered.
Guards awakened them at dawn. Their small party had grown during the night; two or three hundred now huddled there. Helmeted soldiers herded them to an open area Sarcina recognized as a former parking lot. There sat a Terran armored vehicle with a Terran in his battle armor, minus his helmet.
“I am Major Bertrand Baker,” announced the Terran speaking in a comm. There were speakers mounted to his vehicle. “I am military governor for what remains of this pitiful region. You are all now the property of the Queen Annika Raudona Russolov Khan. As her representative, I have a simple set of rules. Work and get fed. Don’t work and die. The Queen has demanded her planet to be cleaned up and made orderly. That you will do. To begin, we shall separate the various resources here - steel, plastics and concrete - into piles which will be loaded for transport to recycling centers.”
Work hard and you will be permitted to live. Don’t work hard and…” He unholstered his sidearm and fired indiscriminately. A Bougartd girl, so young her skin was still mottled, collapsed, a bullet between her eyes.
“Today’s quota is only twenty tons. I will double it for tomorrow if you make the quota by sundown. I will triple it if you do not. Now, get to work, animals,” he ordered.
Chapter 34
The intercom chimed. “Majesty,” called Miss Norris’ voice, “Your son to see you.”
“Thank you, Miss Norris.” Annika answered. “Please see him in.” The door opened and the sixteen-year-old ambled in.
“Robert! How wonderful to see you!” She hugged her child. “You need a haircut.”
“Oh, Mom!” he sighed
He was growing up. Robert took after his grandfather, Andrei, towering over his mother. His hair was unruly, his jaw square and he had inherited his father’s nose. But his eyes were his mother’s, almond shaped and emerald green.
“Come, sit with me. Would you like some tea?” she asked.
“No, thanks, Mom.”
He fidgeted his hands, looked down at them, not meeting his mother’s eyes.
“Are you O.K., Dear? Is something bothering you? A
girl, maybe?” Annika pressed.
“You’re not scanning me, are you?” he shot back.
“That’s a silly question. I’m your mother and I’m asking what’s wrong. I won’t scan you if you tell me,” she promised.
“Well, I came down to Giza for the Naming and the memorial…”
The fleet had returned to Terra, victorious. The Bougartd were collapsing, their ships on the run. The battle groups were hunting them down as the Queen had ordered. Any survivors were being rounded up and shipped back to their home world, to the labor camps. The Queen had ordered the planet cleansed. Her army ensured that this was happening.
It was not a bloodless victory. Fifteen thousand members of the Army and the Fleet had died in the invasion of the Bougartd system, mostly from the suicide assault on the Battleaxe. Admiral Ross issued the order: she wanted all the bodies recovered. Or whatever was left to recover.
Samples were gathered and placed in a sarcophagus and the names of the fallen inscribed on the outside. The casket was then transported from the spaceport in Cairo to the Giza Necropolis, the route lined by the military to the beat of a solitary drum. The Queen, Minister Howland and Admiral Thiessen were waiting at the selected sepulcher. The casket was placed on a plinth. A holo emitter displayed an image of each one of the interred and each name was read, followed by the tolling of a bell. It went on for two and a half days. In the early morning hours, each heir and Robert had taken a turn, reading the names.
The Queen herself read the last names. As the last bell tolled, a musician played a mournful salute.
“I am so proud you participated. You didn’t have to,” she told him.
“I know, Mother. Respectfully, I did have to,” his voice solemn.
“Oh?”
A deep breath. “I have been speaking with Admiral Thiessen. My grades are good and I have been taking college level classes for six years now. He has assured me, with your permission, that I can enter the Academy this semester.”
“Your father has arranged for you to go to Moscow University,” she reminded him.
“Father wishes me to be a doctor, like him,” Robert chose his words with care. “I love Father, but I do not wish to be a doctor.”
“I see. What do you want to be?”
“Green will be the next Khan. You will teach him to continue what you have started. If I follow Father’s path, I will be a bystander to the future,” he stated. “I do not want that. Uncle Thiessen will teach me. When you die and my brother becomes Khan, I will be his War Lord.”
“An ambitious plan. Are you serving yourself or serving the Empire?” she asked.
“Both. I have an advantage that no one else has,” Robert countered. “Green was bred with a superior brain. I have the genes of your superior brain and my father’s superior intellect. I cannot be Khan. But I will be the right hand of the Khan.”
“What does your father think?”
“I have not told him. I was hoping…” the boy started.
“No!” Annika interrupted. “If you are going to stand up to your father, you cannot come running to me. You must confront your father, tell him the truth, and then execute this plan of yours. When do you plan on leaving for Sanderstrom?”
“After the Naming Ceremony. I will be enrolled as a first year.”
“Then you tell your father,” she ordered. “Tonight.”
“Yes, Mother.”
The sphinx stared into eternity. The three pyramids stood as silent monument of the greatness to the god/kings of this ancient land. Annika believed she was joined to the antediluvian stones. Her line was two thousand years, while the pharaohs had lasted more than five.
She had been looking forward to the lunch today with Archbishop James, the emissary from the Vatican. Affairs of state had kept Annika from meeting with her college advisor and friend as often as she would like. Today, she hoped, would give them a chance to catch up.
He arrived in his red trimmed cassock and grey stole. “It has been too long, Archbishop,” she said as she hugged him. “What, fifteen years I believe?”
“Thereabouts,” he agreed. “After the birth of your daughter? I returned to the University; with the war, it’s been important to the Holy Father we maintain normalcy both on the campus and throughout the church.”
Father James brought her the latest from the Vatican. Annika shared about the coming and goings of her family. She sat silent for a moment, and spoke of Robert’s decision. “How does this make you feel?” he asked.
“I am proud of him for making such an adult decision,” she said carefully, “but I worry what will happen between him and his father. As a wife and a mother, I cannot get between them lest I lose both of them. Either way, Robert is quite determined and Yuri will be angry.”
“Yuri,” Father James muttered. “Annika, there is a reason I came to lunch today. His Holiness had instructed me to tell you he intends to send a mission to Bougartd.”
Annika’s head snapped around. “No,” she decreed.
“You cannot stop us,” Father James explained. “The Laws of Angkor Khan state you cannot monitor or block the actions of the church in missions of mercy. Bougartd desperately needs the aid of the church. There is great suffering there.”
“I know there is great suffering there. I am the one creating that suffering.” Her anger was rising. “They are paying for their sins. There will be no mercy!”
Father James whispered, “Vengeance is mine, saieth the Lord.”
“And I am the article of vengeance your lord sent!” she shot back. “You’re right, I can’t interfere with you establishing your mission. But it must not interfere with any actions of my government. Further, you will receive no aid or protection. I will not allow you any support from Medical Corps. Your mission there will be alone amongst the animals. Will that suffice your holy pope?”
Father James responded. “Here is a list of physicians who have already signed aboard to support us.”
Annika looked at the pad. At the first name, her face blanched. GODS, NO!
The Proctor’s words from so many years ago on Celtius Four, “How do you feel?” repeated over and over in Annika’s mind. The children had come down to Giza for a visit, so Yuri was asking each about their day exploring the palace. Robert fidgeted before addressing Yuri. “Father, I have an announcement.”
“Good news, I hope?” Yuri said. “Your mother looks a bit unsettled this evening. I’m sure she needs some cheering up.”
“Father, I have decided to enter university early. I have spoken with Uncle Thor and will be leaving in three days for Sanderson Seven.” His voice was firm, resolved.
Yuri chewed for a few moments and replied, “Nonsense. You can start Moscow University in the fall. That was our plan.”
“That was your plan, Father,” Robert answered. “I love you, but I do not wish to be a doctor like you.”
“So, you wish to go off and be a soldier like your mother?” Annika could hear anger in his voice.
“No, Father,” said the boy. “I will be a naval officer, like Uncle Thor.”
Yuri’s fist hit the table, scattering silver and slopping the soup. “No!” he said. “You will forget this foolishness. You will leave after the Naming Ceremony and work the farm this summer. You will start university this fall in Moscow. That is that.”
“In fall, Father, I will be in my second semester at the Academy,” Robert answered.
“You do so without your mother’s and my blessing,” Yuri responded, now aloof. “Nor our help. You can ask your Uncle Thor for passage home when you fail at that institution.”
Robert jumped to his feet. “I will not fail, Father.” Annika could feel his anger barely in control. Her son excused himself and marched to his room.
The rest of the evening was tense. The children cleared the table and quietly went to their rooms. Annika tried to work on the reports she hadn’t finished during her office hours. Yuri fumed on the veranda overlooking the plaza.
&n
bsp; Annika grew weary and went to her bedroom. She piled pillows behind her in the bed and tried to finish the undone reports, but she couldn’t focus. How do you feel?
Frustrated, she threw the folder on the floor. There was her pad; she selected twenty fifth century poetry. Usually that would calm and relax her. But not tonight. Over and over, the Proctor’s words bored into her skull. How do you feel?
She dropped her pad, flattened the pillows and pulled up the covers while Yuri was in the bathroom preparing for bed. A soft sigh of the blankets shifting announced his presence in the bed. He called the lights down and they lay in the dark, Yuri on his back, Annika facing away from her husband.
“When were you going to tell me about Bougartd?” she asked. “Before or after you left?”
“I just signed on this morning,” he replied calmly. “Robert’s announcement upset me, so I am going to tell you now. Clearly, you already know.”
“You cannot go, “Annika said. “I forbid it.”
Yuri propped himself up on his elbow. “Is that my wife, Annika, speaking or my Khan?”
Annika rolled onto her back. “I will not let you go,” she said, pointing her finger. “You did this knowing what I am doing on Bougartd is the right thing. They murdered my friends, Yuri. Your friends as well. Their voices are screaming for vengeance. I will not allow you to give those murdering animals a bandage or cup of water.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” stated Yuri.
“I did answer,” she rolled back on her side, away from him. “You may not go. You will not go.” She shut her eyes and lay still as a stone.
Minutes passed before Yuri asked, “What is happening to us? I can understand your war. I can understand Robert and his foolish decision. But what I can’t figure out is what is happening between us.” He rolled on his side, away from his wife. “I have never seen you act this way before. Always in our bed, it has just been Yuri and Annika. Tonight, its Yuri and someone I don’t know.”
