by T. R. Harris
And he waited.
After about an hour in the cool air of late November, with the light fading from a tranquil and swollen orange sun on the Western horizon, Keller finally laughed out loud. He had seen the relative position of the Kracori spaceships on the large monitor screen, just before the EMP struck. He knew they had been only minutes away from launching their attack.
Was it possible that the attack had not occurred? He couldn’t be sure, since he was standing in only once solitary position on the planet. But if they had attacked, wouldn’t he have felt something?
To answer his question, an Air Force senior master sergeant came running out of the nearest Pentagon door and scanned the massive crowd standing outside. Keller, with his prominent gold shoulder boards of his dress uniform, stood out amongst all the rest. The sergeant ran up to him with a paper in his hand. The forty-six-year-old E-8 was out of breath.
“Sir, the EMP was not as strong as initially suspected – probably from a fusion device – and we still have comm hardened against such events.” He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “Reports show no, I repeat no, nuclear explosions within the atmosphere or impacting the surface!”
He handed the sheet of paper to Keller, who saw it was all in a mass of teletype text, hardly readable without deciphering it line-by-line. Keller was good at reading this kind of message – seeing that it was standard for most military orders – but he had no time for that now.
“No impacts, no air bursts reported?” he queried the master sergeant.
“That’s correct, sir. Apparently all the alien ships exploded in space. That was what caused the EMP.”
As was unbefitting a full-admiral, Keller sat down on the warm black asphalt of the Pentagon parking lot and crossed his legs. Word was spreading like wildfire throughout the thousands of others with him and soon there was such a cacophony of cheers and celebration that all military decorum broke down completely. People were coming up to him, patting his back and reaching down to shake his hand, believing that he had had something to do with their salvation. He accepted their accolades, for even Admiral William Keller, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, didn’t know what had just happened.
Chapter 37
Adam was in the kitchen of the Kracori spaceship checking the processor supplies when Tindal called him to the bridge. A message had been received from the fleet indicating that a longer, more detailed update to the situation on Earth was to be received in five minutes and that all crewmembers should be present.
If the preliminary message was meant to prepare them for bad news, it did just the opposite. As all the Humans met on the bridge, to the person they were white as sheets and nearly sick to their stomachs. It was the longest five minutes in all their lives.
Adam knew immediately that the worst had occurred the moment he saw Admiral Allen’s face. It was drawn and hollow, the bags under his eyes doubly-pronounced from the last video of him they’d received.
“I won’t sugarcoat this you guys,” Allen began. “We lost contact with the Earth about two hours ago. It was in mid-message, and since then, nothing.” He appeared to choke up, but then gathered himself and continued. “We don’t have any actual confirmation of the attack, but I have to tell you this is the first time since we left the planet that we’ve been out of communications for this long.” He attempted to smile. “It would be a real bitch if this was some glitch that just happened to come at the most inopportune time. You know these things happen; I’m surprised we haven’t had a breakdown in comm before this.”
The sickly-looking smile vanished as quickly as it came and Admiral Allen continued, his voice now deadly serious. “As you’ve probably already guessed, I’ve turned the fleet and we are heading home. I’m sorry about this, but I had no choice. Even without concrete confirmation of an attack, I couldn’t delay it any longer. The word has spread throughout the fleet, and if I hadn’t done something soon, I would have had a mutiny on my hands.” Again the wry smile.
“Adam, you and Andy – and all the rest of you – are very resourceful people, in fact more capable than any other sailors I’ve had the privilege of serving with. I’m sure you will find your way home. Hell, not even a galactic empire has been able to stop you yet!
“We’ll update you with any new intel that comes in. I’m sure that eventually they’ll be able to restore some sort of comm with us. In fact, I’m surprised that comm is down. If the frickin Kracori wanted the fleet to return to Earth, we would need to be aware that an attack has occurred. Without comm, it kinda defeats their purpose. But this may be just some collateral damage they hadn’t counted on. Either way, the fleet is hard to miss. They should know of our movement by now.”
Admiral Allen paused for a moment, once more composing himself. Then Adam saw his jaw firm and the veins in his neck tighten. “One last thing: HooYah!”
Instinctively, all four of the Navy SEALs repeated the Navy’s battle cry, startling everyone else on the bridge. But then attention returned to the video.
“Good luck, gentlemen – and lady – and God’s speed. Allen out.”
The room was silent for a good two to three minutes, with each of the Humans lost in their own contemplations. For the past three days the crew had more-or-less already come to grips with these feelings. Even though the planet had been warned, the odds of stopping an attack this far advanced were iffy from the beginning. Yet even with their expectations, it still didn’t stop the occasional tear from escaping from glassy eyes. It was Jym who finally broke the awkward silence.
“Do you want to record a return message?” he asked solemnly.
“Not right now, Jym,” Adam’s trembling voice answered. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to speak for a while, knowing that his emotions would be revealed in his timbre. “In a few minutes – I think we all need to have a moment.” But then a strong emotion rose up in his chest and he leaned in closer to the small, bear-like alien. “But you can start looking for a place where I can find a Class-5 starship. We’re going to need something with a little more horsepower than this tub if we expect to get back home.”
“Horse-power?”
The other Humans had perked up at Adam’s comment; he could see the fire burning in all their blood-shot eyes. “Yeah, something with some muscle. I don’t plan on being stranded out here any longer than is necessary.”
Chapter 38
The Kracori are an emotional race, unlike the more placid Klin. So when Jonnif received notification that a sustained-wormhole (S/W) was opening up with Eilsion, he screamed an ancient Kracori battle cry, pumped his fists and bared his teeth. Unfortunately, he was alone in his cabin when he displayed these emotions, so none of his crew could see the raw power he exhibited. However, the release of tension did calm his nerves for the short trek to the communication room.
Being fully aware of the timetable for the attack upon Earth, he had been expecting this link for several hours. By now the outcome should be known, and for Jonnif there wasn’t much riding on this information – nothing except the survival of his legend, and by extension, that of his entire race.
He had all the techs leave the room; he even told Kaddof and Mininof were told to wait outside. Unfortunately, when the face of Daninf Kicon appeared on the large screen, Jonnif knew immediately the outcome of the mission.
Even before Daninf could speak, Jonnif was already talking: “What happened? How could they have stopped us?”
Daninf did not answer immediately, instead irritated by the disrespectful hijacking of his conversation. “There is more to tell you than simply that the attack has failed, Jonnif. One of the ships did survive and was able to report.”
Daninf was visibly shaking, his own emotions boiling up inside, barely able to be contained. Jonnif watched him with a surprising detachment. He knew that with the failure of the mission, his life was essentially over. But not only that, now his Legend would be ravaged and all those within his line would suffer as well. The name of Vinn would
have to be changed so future generations would not share in his humiliation, and nevermore would a child born on Eilsion carry the name of Jonnif. And all because of an impulsive slip of the tongue on a burned-out world, twenty thousand light years from the location of the event that caused such tragedy.
In light of his future prospects, Jonnif did not feel the need to follow neither protocol nor decorum with the Langril. The members of the Ludif Council had gone along with his plan – in fact, they had endorsed it whole-heartedly. Now they act as if they had to be coerced into voting for it, as if they had been skeptical from the start. It wasn’t fair, and now Jonnif and his entire line would be made to pay the ultimate price, and just to divert some of the blame from the Ludifs.
Daninf was able to regain his composure. “I will give you a brief summary of what is known at this time; information is still coming in. For your benefit, the Humans were warned, so Adam Cain was able to contact his fleet. However, it was not the Humans who prevented the attack.”
Jonnif was stunned, but even then only one name screamed out in his head. “The Klin! They stopped it?”
“That remains to be determined,” Daninf answered, exasperation painting his face at Jonnif’s insolent behavior. “What we do know was that the nuclear weapons aboard nine of the attack vessels exploded prematurely, apparently from an act of sabotage perpetrated by the natives of Glasien-4.”
“The Gielians, in collusion with the Klin?”
“That is one of the items we are attempting to validate.”
“So it was not my revelation that caused the mission to fail! The attack was pre-destined for failure.” Jonnif’s emotions soared, his joy ecstatic. How could they now place the blame upon his legend? No spoken word of his caused the mission’s failure!
“Then I have been exonerated, Daninf.”
“No, that is not the case – if anything, it is worse.”
Jonnif was taken aback. “I do not understand. The Humans did not prevent the attack.”
“Yes, but now they know who we are.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Respect, Jonnif! You will afford me respect!”
“How can I?” Jonnif countered, his own anger matching that of Daninf’s. “You have just said that my actions were not responsible for the demise of the mission, yet still you wish to persecute me.”
“Your actions indeed did not cause the failure of the nuclear strike on Earth, yet they have allowed the Humans to know who attempted it.”
Jonnif suddenly grew weak. He didn’t know exactly why, but Daninf’s words had some subliminal impact on him. “I do not understand,” he finally managed to mumble.
“You myiloc scum! There is so much you do not understand.” Daninf screamed. “If the attack had succeeded without warning, the Humans would have naturally assumed it came from either the Klin or the Juireans. Their fleet would have turned, never knowing that it was the Kracori who had attacked their planet, as well as the planet Juir. Even in failure, the Humans would have still suspected the others since, up until the time of your stupid revelation, they had no knowledge of the Kracori. Now they have a new enemy – and that enemy is us! And furthermore, with the failure of the mission, the Human military and industrial capacity is still fully intact. What do you think the Humans will do now with the knowledge you have revealed in your careless moment?”
Jonnif could not even find the breath to utter a defense. He slumped in the chair, cowering before the over-size image of Daninf Kicon glaring out at him from the monitor. Daninf let him suffer in his loss of legend, but only for a moment.
“If the mission had succeeded, then the Humans would have learned who was responsible because we would have broadcast it across the galaxy! But now, not only has our mission on Earth failed, but we must also abandon Juir and the Alliance Cluster. The Legend of the Kracori could not have suffered more, Jonnif. The effect this will have on your own pitiful legend is nothing compared to what you have done to your race! I find it almost inconceivable that one Kracori could have had such a deleterious impact on an entire race of beings.”
Jonnif could barely bring himself to look the Langril in the eye, but somehow he managed to speak. “What do you wish me to do, my Ludif? I had no idea it could be so … so catastrophic.”
“All we wish of you now, Jonnif, is that you prepare your forces for the withdrawal from the Cluster. We do not want to risk any more Kracori lives in such a fruitless endeavor. The loss of life may not have been much to date, yet we have all seen what the Humans are capable of doing when they are attacked – whether successfully or not. They do not react well to threats or acts of violence against them. It may not be now, but in ages to come, your actions will have cost the lives of millions upon millions of Kracori.”
“I will prepare for departure. After that, my Ludif, I am at your mercy.”
“There will be no mercy, Jonnif. A Kracori without legend is less than living. It is you who will need to face that reality. I have nothing more to say to you.”
The screen went blank, as did Jonnif’s emotions. He was drained, empty of all senses and awareness. He remained in this vegetative state for several minutes before finally rising from the chair and leaving the room.
Kaddof – his second-in-command – was in the hallway standing next to Mininof when Jonnif exited the communication center. He recognized the look of utter defeat the moment he saw his commander. “Regrets, my Ludif,” he said while not asking for a recounting of the conversation. “What are my orders?”
“You are to prepare all our forces for departure from the Cluster. All ground actions are to cease immediately. Allow no further loss of Kracori life. When ready, return to Eilsion by the shortest route. Do not allow yourself to be followed; the Humans must not learn the location of Eilsion.”
“Yes, my Ludif. I will begin preparations immediately.”
Kaddof and Mininof watched as Jonnif walked past them in a daze and disappeared down the corridor, lost in the curvature of the ship. Neither said anything further, nor did they accompany him when he left the shining Klin-designed flying saucer and walked out onto the grass of the Kacoran Plain.
And neither were they present when Jonnif Vinn walked to the edge of the high prominence and hurled himself onto the craggy rocks hundreds of meters below….
Chapter 39
The Klin flying saucer blended in perfectly with the monochromatic gray of the moon’s surface, and except for the unnaturally round shadow the craft cast, the starship would have been completely invisible to any prying eyes. As it was, no one was paying much attention to the moon at this time; the Human’s focus had been directed outward, toward the outer reaches of the solar system, and for any intruders they could detect.
Senior Fellow Suneso Huvilin of the Klin had been in place on the large, singular companion to the planet Earth for several weeks, watching as the Kracori ships slipped into the system and went dark before anyone was alerted to their presence. He was surprised, however, when the Humans did get wind of the impending attack and began all manner of defensive moves to stop the Kracori. After all the preparations Suneso and the other Klin had already taken, he found the Human’s makeshift activities slightly amusing. The Kracori were already there and all the Humans did was make it easier for them to fulfill their mission – if the Klin had not already acted.
When the nine massive explosions occurred, Suneso did his best to visualize the confused conversations that must have taken place on the planet below. It would have only taken minutes for the Humans to realize that their efforts had nothing to do with the destruction of the Kracori ships.
If it not them, then who? Many on the planet would naturally suspect the Klin, but then they would ask why would the Klin stop an attack on Earth, especially in light of events unfolding tens of thousands of light years away? Suneso wished he still had spies within the Human population; it would have been incredibly entertaining to watch the confused and scared Humans scurry abo
ut for answers of which they could only speculate.
However, Suneso was not without his questions, so when the image of Pleabaen Linuso Summlin appeared on the S/W comm screen, he was hoping he would get his answers as well.
“Greetings Pleabaen, I have success to report,” he said to the supreme leader of the Klin race.
“That is indeed good news. What do you know at this point?” Suneso could see that Linuso was still recovering from the injuries he’d suffered over two months before, when their headquarters on Marishal had been damaged. He appeared gaunt and paler than normal and he still carried a thin oxygen tube attached to his nose. “The ships did explode as planned – at least nine of them did. The tenth ship was not in position for the attack and has since retreated. I can also report that the rebellion on Glasien-4 has also succeeded. There should only be a few Kracori left within the Arm at this time and we are monitoring them.”
“Excellent, but I have reports that the Humans were forewarned of the attack?”
“Apparently so, Pleabaen.”
“That is acceptable; it saves us the necessity of revealing the Kracori to them.”
“Linuso, I have been meaning to ask a very direct question regarding this entire matter,” Suneso said.
Linuso smiled. “Why? “Why we have saved the Humans from destruction?”
“Precisely. The Humans have deceived us and are now the strongest force in the galaxy. They even caused great injury to your body, along with the deaths of hundreds of Klin.”
Linuso nodded. “This has all been part of a decision made immediately after the Humans escaped from Marishal. It was not our optimal plan, but considering the Kracori’s premature arrival at Juir, it was the best option we had available.”
“Now I am even more confused, Pleabaen.”
