Teramar: The Gathering Night

by Thomas Michael Murray

  “How long will it take?”

  Sounding distracted, Hadrian mumbled, “You mean the battle?”

  “What else could I mean?” The now encouraging sun cast a warm glow on the prince’s pale back. Shayne started to nuzzle the curls. In a muffled voice, he repeated the question, “So how long will it take?”

  Pulled toward these ministrations, Hadrian gave a blurry reply, “Short… Oooo. That feels good… Maybe a day or two? They won’t have enough people…”

  Without asking, Shayne moved Hadrian onto his side and carefully slid himself into something he was beginning to know quite well. This time was true reverence, whereas the prior night was about spoiling a nagging fantasy. “Yes, he makes me irrational.” The world had to survive the next few weeks.

  The Pill Box

  Although the earth alliance could not know the precise location of the queen’s fleet due to the natural cloak of flowing time that surrounds a starship, Jessica’s relentless calculations attached a high probability that the armada would arrive any day now. In anticipation of impending hostilities, Hadrian’s rag tag force summarily ended their training and began to flow to designated positions.

  Prior to their deployment, the prince and his computer engaged in a long running argument about the final plan. In the prince’s mind, their position had improved upon discovery of a competent earth military. Overall, preparations progressed much better than forecast. Naturally, Jessica lobbied for a conservative strategy that scored high marks in her models. The two eventually agreed upon a compromise of ideas whereby Jessica would immediately move Atossa to the outskirts of earth’s solar system at a coordinate the Uriahan armada would surely pass.

  Behind Charon, Pluto’s largest moon, the computer dutifully parked and paused primary systems thereby receding into the darkness. Simultaneously, she quietly emitted a bloody chum of suspicious information that Admiral Metak could easily register and read. Only a half-day into her vigil, Jessica witnessed the blurry apparition of a ship moving into the present dimension. Seconds later, more cruisers materialized. The queen’s fleet slowly fixed their positions like a string of jeweled lanterns. Each vessel bristled with weaponry. She expected to see more of them.

  Of course, Metak’s team intercepted their decoy. An admiral’s intuition suspected this was truly a piece of delicious bate to lure them to full stop. Nevertheless, the clue could not be ignored. The mysterious signal was obviously Teramarian. Metak ordered his men to scour the area for the source of the message. He knew they were being watched.

  As the Uriahan ships nervously hunted her, Jessica continued to hide and observe. “Amplify their anxiety with silence” - she recited the twenty-third diktat from the warrior’s code. The prince’s computer noted only three destroyers that matched her-own class and a host of smaller ships, which served the three. When she finished this appraisal and fully understood the power before her, Jessica stepped out from behind Pluto’s moon and flashed her own monstrous presence, just as an earth automobile flashes its headlights.

  Metak’s team roared when they saw the black ship. He and his senior officers had discussed the possibility of engagement out here, but the admiral’s prescient instincts loudly squealed that his highness was not on that warship. As a devoted observer of the prince’s exploits in the arena, Metak knew that young Hadrian would never force a final confrontation against superior numbers as an opening gambit. “The boy is a natural warrior – and survivor.”

  The trill of an incoming message quietly sounded on Metak’s personal com - a brief piece of text that presented an offer to “discuss armistice.” No names were used but the communiqué bore a Capet seal. “Where was the prince?”

  The queen appeared on the bridge and ignored the unwelcome looks. She had been closely following these proceeding from her apartment. The chatter in the command center abruptly shushed to an awkward silence. Metak was furious. This was the last thing they needed was her here, making everyone nervous. He gave the queen a sharp bow and said curtly, “Your majesty, the bridge is not safe for you. Please return to the interior.”

  “Quiet, Metak. I am not here to assume command. I am here to discuss this offer to communicate with that thing out there.” Today, she carried herself with a queen’s dignity. Her intonation clicked with an aristocrat’s power.

  “Your majesty, I feel the message and that ship are decoys. The prince is certainly near earth awaiting the outcome here. This overture is certainly for some malevolent purpose.”

  “Metak, you fool. Any communication is communication.”

  The queen’s great varlet, that Cataline - the one who saw everything but often did nothing - added his reassuring, now feline tone, “Admiral, the queen is correct. An opening offer from the prince cannot be ignored.” His smoothness kept the room calm when in reality all of their nerves were snapping from end to end. The computer had other reasons for supporting his queen’s remarks. The admiral understood there was no choice here. Her majesty was giving a direct order. Metak nodded to his headman who opened a portal establishing a proper link.

  On the opposite side, Jessica was surprised at this quick agreement. Old Metak was well aware of what transpired in the prison facility months prior. Eager to finish the job, Jessica had only seconds to enact her one quickcut to victory where she quietly placed an insidious program onto their command board. Since her birth as an artificial intelligence, Jessica had always born the great responsibility of safely carrying the king’s code as the ultimate antidote to a crisis. Every computer or ship would yield to his code, akin to the latent Uriahan program that ultimately turned Cataline against the king. All she required was access through the wall of shields.

  Jessica quickly felt her fingers grow into their systems and as she neared the main switch, her quiet operation went suddenly wrong. A blinding power surge buckled back and rode roughshod over her circuits with what she could only describe as intense pain. Cataline had indeed been lying in wait. After the incident with Princess Alian, where Jessica easily brushed him aside, Cataline maniacally studied that breach and found all the footprints. Jessica’s tracks were faint but clearly there. He firmly concluded she would pursue a similar strategy today.

  The crackling energy was intense. Jessica saw her short life begin to wane. Elements of her nexus quickly melted. She had to warn the prince, but the simplest tasks were becoming laborious, almost impossible. With a staggering effort, Jessica managed a one-word broadcast that she carelessly flung back to earth. “Gone” was all the computer could manage. Faintly, she heard the prince cry out, “What’s happened to you? Shields are down.” Everything sounded underwater. She couldn’t focus. She was drowning and burning all at the same time. Quickly moving to finish her off, Cataline’s red beam raked two and fro systematically wiping out memory panels. But the queen’s computer left no defense for his-own core, calculating this surprise attack would go unanswered if delivered with enough raw force.

  Sinking into a pool of black shadow, Jessica put up her arms to ward off the ruin. Yet, the computer knew she had to counter this assault with something injurious or the prince and earth would be finished. Cacophony closed round. She could barely decipher her command board from ordinary utilities. Rallying everything, Jessica slowly erected a small sharp shield, and carefully reflected a portion of Cataline’s beam back upon the source. This move created a virulent feedback loop that assured the utter annihilation of both computers. Immediately, Cataline felt the returning heat. He was always aware of the possibility of parallel ruin - that this opening salvo might ultimately turn into a suicide run. Removing the prince’s computer from the field of play guaranteed victory for the queen. Livia had superior numbers. The prince had this Jessica. The latter had to be destroyed at all costs.

  The war between machines was quite public. First, there was a momentary dimming of lights. The Uriah bridge then observed the exchange of high-grade energy beams boring holes into the belly of each ship. The admiral and Livia stood there in stu
nned silence. The computers had introduced these hostilities through their own initiative. “Can you turn it off,” Metak ordered?

  While coordinated intelligence quickly fled their systems, Cataline scratchily bid goodbye to his master in the slow, unrecognizable voice of an old earth LP. “I did this for youuuu, Liviaaaa.” The words sounded like a lover’s final plea. The queen didn’t quite grasp the gravity of the situation and continued to speak to the computer as if nothing had occurred.

  “Cataline, please stop with that absurd voice. What is wrong with you?”

  No response. The bridge awkwardly watched her majesty’s mounting agitation. The computer remained silent to her calls. An attendant offered a chair for an increasingly hysterical queen.

  As quickly as the computer war began, it ended with hot smoke and gases emanating from each wound. The Uriah ship then blinked as a transfer of command flowed through its veins. Millions of smaller programs instantly sprang to life to manage the absence of the centralized system. Metak turned to his aide and he received an affirmative nod that the main computer was effectively gone. The prince’s starship appeared to be floating lifeless as well. Metak’s first reaction was that Livia’s pet ultimately made a brilliant move, sacrificing itself while it destroyed the prince’s great machine. “Now the battle would be won by whoever had the bigger gun.”

  Cataline’s demise also changed the dynamic on the bridge – and for the better. Acknowledging this shift in fortune, Metak loudly issued an order, “Please escort her majesty to the escape pods and strap her into one.” Then, like someone ready to put an ugly task behind him, he turned to his men and said, “Gentlemen, let us move on earth.”

  Metak’s commanders promptly provided a thorough dossier of the damage. Amongst a litany of broken systems, all shields had become inoperative including those protecting the Uriah attack hovers. Jessica’s virus was designed to permanently lower the shields on all the queen’s ships. Other than the loss of their shields, however, the fleet remained in a fundamentally sound condition. What’s more, Metak’s engineers were confident that the prince’s shields were also inoperable. When the Capet computer lost control of her command board, the virus inadvertently turned on its own systems. At this point, the two fleets would be blasting directly at each other without protection.

  Probes relayed the results from the battle of Charon to Hadrian. The prince was horribly shaken by Jessica’s shocking demise. In time, they had become true collaborators, almost friends. The prince felt she did a miraculous job preparing the earth people for today’s effort. “Almost as if she had her heart into it.” Each of them had grown and matured since they first landed on this complicated planet. “Well, she’s gone now. Pull yourself together.” Scattered automation quickly came online to replace the loss of Jessica. Now, individual pilots would more or less administer earth’s defense.

  The alliance patiently waited for the prince’s order to engage the enemy. Hadrian had formed his battle group on earth’s one moon. The small fleet of hovers floated within large craters. Taking a deep breath, he used voice to convey optimism and confidence. “Steady as she goes,” he said into the com. The plan to recruit the earth pilots was lucky foresight. With Jessica missing in action, the prince could never have single handily directed the entire fleet of five hundred hovers. He still fretted. “Will the earth pilots really follow me into battle? I am but a boy to many of them.” Now was the moment of truth. If there were a time for cold feet, this would be it. Uriah hovers swarmed round their own ships like mean bees near the nest. Killing time was about to begin.

  Hadrian gave the order, “Let’s move. Victory for earth, ladies and gentlemen!” Flowing in a smaller swarm, the earth pilots immediately fanned wide to create disparate targets for the Uriah cannons. The prince rode in his father’s machine. “The king’s hover,” everyone called it. A pair of drones flanked both his port and starboard sides. Hadrian looked back to make sure his eyes confirmed the rest were in pursuit. “Here they come,” he audibly sighed in relief. The prince then pushed the accelerator to attack speed. The hover lurched forward like a great runion after a hard kick to the rib.

  Roaring into the Uriah nest, his ship violently bucked the cannon fire. Their small, but agile fleet presented a challenging target without a working main computer. Closing on the flagship, Hadrian led a steep run through the valleys of the immense vessel. A seasoned pilot, Commander Tommy Byrd, ran wingman to the prince. Bryd was one of the U.S. Air Force's best, a war worn veteran who was also a space shuttle commander. After more than twenty years, Commander Byrd had certainly tasted war’s bleak flavor.

  With fire and brimstone mounting round them, the prince made visual contact with Commander Byrd and pointed to the dome. His squad then roared up the belly of the ship. The turbulence inside was intense, causing the prince to smash his head against a hard hull. Stars flashed. Hadrian smiled grimly and threw the throttle faster still. The rest of his squad screamed after him. With a clear path now, they drove for the dome.

  The flagship’s bridge was well protected with its own small squadron of hovers. And surrounding the dome like a moat, the hull was extremely dense and somewhat impervious to attack even without shields. The prince, however, knew the location of the unpublished soft spots. Circling into the Uriah universe of firepower, Hadrian’s strike-force was immediately beset upon. Ducking through their defenses, the prince drove for a clear shot at the dome itself. All of their cannons locked onto a single coordinate. “On my mark, fire.” Four red beams coalesced on one coordinate. The resulting blast was a bright flash at the rim.

  Inside, consoles erupted into flames melting the hands of two crewmen. One went running wildly with burning arms. A fissure then slowly cracked across the dome and atmosphere began to hiss away. Burnt plastic and the smell of charred flesh reigned. The admiral’s headman almost pushed Metak off the bridge. “Sir, the dome is breached. We need to move.”

  Metak grunted his assent. “Fall back.” The senior staff automatically transferred control to the interior bridge and the team quickly abandoned the area. A heavy security door automatically sealed the passage with a loud clang. The few dead would be interned in space.

  As the battle raged, Livia was shocked at the ferocity for how these earth people fought. Although the queen couldn’t quite discern the progress of her forces, the battle did seem to sway in their favor. She signaled Metak. “Yes, majesty.” The admiral appeared preoccupied. Worried. She sensed frenetic activity around him.

  The queen ignored another cold reception. “I am going to deliver our prepared remarks to earth’s leaders now. As these opening hostilities appear to be going our way, we might be able to moderate their resolve with an appeal to save lives.”

  Metak’s expression softened. The admiral had forgotten about his queen and the plan for a call to reason. At this point, he readily agreed with her, “Yes, majesty. Now would be the perfect time to make your case. I am sure your son does not appreciate that your sacred person is onboard this very ship. Metak out.” The admiral waved his hand and the screen evaporated. Nodding her head to begin, the queen’s attendant delivered a “soft count” for the halo-camera. Livia took a deep breath. Light framed a proud but kindly countenance. All of earth including the hover pilots would hear the queen’s message.

  Mustering all her powers, Livia smiled at the billions and said in rehearsed English, “Good people, my name is Livia, Queen of the Teramarian kingdom. I am sorry we have engaged in hostilities prior to any discussion of issues. My quarrel is not with you. Our mission here is to return my son, the prince and our heir, to his home. We do not wish for further aggression. We only hope to retrieve one person and then leave.”

  The queen was a skilled orator when she chose to be. Calmly and with the greatest sincerity, she delivered these few lines. Livia looked into the camera assuming the serene pose of the great mother. She then grandly turned her head to another camera to emphasize a second message. Speaking directly to her son, s
he said, “Hadrian, please, this is your mother and queen. I am here inside the belly of the ship you are now attacking.” She took a quiet pause for effect and continued, “Your father remains alive by my order despite the calls from the less charitable elements of the family. If you return to Teramar with me, he will remain alive. Son, I am looking for a peaceful means to end the killing. You’re father’s people will yield but only to you. Think of the lives we would save.” She wore a face of regal concern. Yet, there was a sincere question in the final expression.

  His mother’s manifestation was surreal. She had an aversion to space travel. Her presence revealed certain desperation on their part. And yet, the prince feared how this speech might resonate with the earth leaders. The queen’s words made Hadrian appear unreasonable. Immediately, he signaled all the command centers on the ground. “Earth leaders, we discussed the possibility of an appeal. Mark my words. My mother is faithless. Even if I surrendered myself, she would leave one of their warships behind. That is how they operate.”

  This distraction created by the queen occurred at a dangerous point in the battle. The enemy’s defense had turned into a counter attack. The prince’s hovers spent more time avoiding cannon fire than getting off their own shots. Boom. Boom. Suddenly, in a flash of light, Tommy Byrd’s ship lost his port cannons.

  The American president responded through all channels, “We agree with you, Prince Hadrian. Speaking for the earth alliance, we are committed to making this final stand. Please carry on. And, good luck.” This was broadcast to all their forces. The president wanted to send a clear message that the earth pilots should continue to press the enemy and remain under the command of the Teramarian Prince. The president knew the battle was not going well, but he and his commanders gladly catalogued heavy damage to the Uriah fleet. His generals had explained to him how mutual annihilation might be their best chance to rid earth of these aliens.