by Mike Resnick
The ship of Orthis led the charge, and while Orthis cried out his certain triumph, Julian 5th simply tapped a button on a device that he had crafted over the lengthy period of their separation. Within seconds the electric ray device simply vanished and, simultaneously, the two ships collided with each other. Even though I was thousands of feet below, I could practically feel the impact from where I was standing.
The two vessels were pinned against each other, and I saw Julian, my beautiful Julian, leap from one vessel to the other. He had a sword in his hand, unlike all of the other men, who were toting rifles.
Crisp rifle shots reached my ears, and I clasped my hands to my bosom, convinced that this was all but over. And it was . . . but not the way I had thought.
Because suddenly there was an ear-splitting, thunderous explosion of noise. I stared up, shielding my eyes, squinting against the light, and then gasped in horror. Detonations ripped through the one ship and instantaneously leaped into Julian’s as well. I had only the briefest flash of light that for half a heartbeat illuminated Julian 5th. It was an image that would stay with me forever, and then it was gone. He was gone. The entire ship was ripped to pieces, and the last sight I had of my Julian was his looking more surprised than anything else. Then the entire area exploded around him. Within seconds there was nothing left save for large bits of debris that were being torn apart in the violent thrust of the ship’s detonation.
My heart stopped. Literally, it stopped. I clutched at my chest and felt nothing happening there for what seemed ages. Then, seemingly hours later when it must have instead been seconds, I felt the organ pounding away in my chest once more.
Desperately I tried running the images I had just witnessed through my mind. I endeavored to pull out of it some sort of quickly garnered lesson that would drive home for me the certainty that, yes, my husband had survived. Yet I knew that was not remotely possible. One moment he had been there, and the next he was gone. Orthis, who had envied my Julian for years, had finally gotten the better of him, even though the cost was his own life.
I heard a distant and frustrated screaming near me and realized it was my own son, Julian 6th. I clutched him tightly as he continued to shout, “No! No, it can’t be! It can’t!”
“It is,” was all I said. It was a tight, sharp whisper, but it was enough to pull him away from his youthful frustration. “It is. Your father is dead, and unless we do something right now, we’re going to follow him.”
“But—”
I had no time to allow for his retrieving his wits. There were still many of Julian’s men here, ready to battle, but I knew they had no chance. Julian’s men were many, but the Kalkars were many more, and there was no question that they would triumph over the ridge in a matter of minutes. “Get your bag,” I warned him. “One bag, right now. I will meet you at the door of our home, and we will get going. Immediately.” When he paused, looking concerned, I slapped him briskly on the shoulder to reconnect his eyes with his head. “Now!” I insisted. “Not later! Now!”
He managed a nod and did as he was told. By the time I reached our cabin, he had already gathered the small amounts that I had instructed him to. My own material was already in a bag and ready to go.
There, in the section of the country known as Alyeska, we fled. There was no time to mourn the loss of my husband. There was no time to dwell upon having him torn away from me. All I had time to think about was putting as much distance between myself and those who would have torn us apart. We had to flee.
We traveled as quickly and expeditiously as we could. The sounds of the land behind us dissolved into shouts and battles as the troops of the Moon rolled in to do combat with those who remained behind us. They did not do so out of any great compulsion or sensitivity for what happened to us. I daresay most of them were unaware that we had even fled. No, at that point they were obsessed with one thing and one thing only: visiting whatever damage they could upon those who had assaulted us.
Their shouts of fury and bursts of gunshots were quickly destroyed by the sounds of blasts coming from the invading Moon Men. Men who had, once upon a time, been people who were not dissimilar to me. Moon Men who had, not all that long ago, thought of marrying me (or at least some of them had). Now all they wanted was to get their hands on me and try me or destroy me or try me and then destroy me. No matter which path was chosen, it was not one upon which I desired to tread.
And so we left.
Several days passed as we made our way down the mountain ridges toward the south. We continued to be hammered by the steady winds that almost seemed to be ready to blow us down the Canadian border. From time to time I wanted to do nothing save for flopping down and dying, or at least pulling into a complete sense of frustration due to my seeming helplessness. What point was there in moving on, really? My husband was dead; of that there was no question. Now I was being asked to do even more. I had to go on without him. And I just didn’t think that was going to be possible.
I lost count of the days that went by as we traveled through Canada. With each passing day, the small amount of food we had with us dwindled, until it reached the point where I was left with virtually nothing. Nor was Julian 6th much better off, even though I had made sure to leave food over for him.
Finally one morning, when we had taken residence inside an otherwise empty cave, I woke up to find that I was incapable of sitting up. I simply lay there upon the ground, staring up at the ceiling, and when Julian prodded at me, at first I made no reply. Finally, when he kept saying my name and spoke with greater urgency, I said softly, “Leave me here, Julian. There is an entire world out there for you to explore. I wouldn’t advise leaving it to me.”
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly, with an air of determination that reminded me of his father. It was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes, but I kept them suppressed. “I will find you whatever you need to build back up your strength.”
I have naught to build it up for, was what I wanted to say. I felt as if my continued presence in his life was simply unnecessary. But he wanted me there, and so I saw no way but to do all that I could to remain. I managed a nod. “Very well,” I said. “Do as you will.”
He nodded and headed off. I lay there, listening as closely as I could until the sounds of his footsteps faded.
There I remained, doing nothing. Much of the day passed and well into the night and still there was no sign of his return.
I had no idea when I fell asleep. It was well into the night, I knew that much. Other than that, however, I was unsure of what time I actually drifted off. The following morning, however, the circumstances were made far more explicit to me, because I awoke, not to silence, but a good deal of noise.
There were Kalkars at the front of the cave. Half a dozen or more, and they were gazing at me with large, rapacious eyes, grinning wildly.
Energy surged into me when there had been none before. With a yelp, I staggered to my feet and began shoving my way back up into the limited shelter that the cave provided. The Kalkars created a temporary jam-up when they all tried to come in after me simultaneously. It took them a few moments to get themselves sorted out, right up until the largest of the group pushed the others aside and came in after me. I tried to keep him back, kicking as furiously as I could. But I was tired and less focused than I should have been, and it took him almost no time to get a firm hand on me. He yanked hard, and I was hauled forward and down toward the entrance. I fought as valiantly as I could, but it did no good. Moments later I was pinioned by the legs and arms and held down outside the cave. I struggled valiantly, but my strength was as nothing compared to theirs.
Nevertheless I fought back as bravely as the spirit of the moment allowed. I kicked out, lashed at them with my feet, sank my teeth solidly into their forearms. Even that was simply serving as best as my ravaged body would allow, and then I heard a sardonic voice announce, “Hold it. I believe this to be her.”
It was, much to my surprise, a female voice. A woman s
tepped forward, looking mightily like a Kalkar, but taller and more powerfully built. Her hair was thick, dark brown, and equally darkish eyes were resting upon me. There was a grim smile in her face.
“Nah-ee-lah?” There was no real doubt in her voice; merely curiosity. “You would be . . . Nah-ee-lah?”
I wanted to tell her to go to hell. To tell her that under no circumstance would I give up my true name to her. Yet somehow I was fascinated by her, this woman who was not much taller than I myself was. “Yes,” said I to her. “I am Nah-ee-lah. And you are . . . ?”
The Kalkar woman actually laughed at that, as if speaking her own name aloud amused her. Finally, when she had managed to adjust herself, she said softly, “I am Kel-ee-kni.”
“Hello.” I wasn’t entirely sure of what else to say.
Her eyes narrowed; there was a directly sinister look to them. Her mouth twitched in clearly growing anger and I had no idea why. “You have no idea what you have done, do you.”
“I admit I do not.”
Suddenly, quick as a snake, she grabbed me by the back of my hair and yanked me forward. “I am Kel-ee-kni, and I am—I was—the beloved of Orthis. For fourteen years I benefited him. For fourteen years I loved him, cared for him, and raised his son. And that is over because of your damned husband.”
Well, now I knew.
I did not, however, care overmuch. “Our husbands killed each other,” I said with as much indifference as I could muster. “As of this moment, it is now, by my count, five against one . . .” One of them off to the side raised his hand, and I nodded in acknowledgment. “Sorry. Six against one. There is little to nothing I can do about that. If you wish to kill me, then do so. If you wish to let me go, then you can do that as well.”
“Let you go?” She sounded appalled at the notion. “Why would we do that when we can even the score right here, right now?”
I was still being held down, pinned at the shoulders and knees. Helpless as I was, I was still moved to snort in derision. “Is that what you think is going to happen? That some manner of evenhandedness is going to be meted out here? You are very sadly mistaken, if that is what you assume will transpire.”
“Kill her,” mumbled several of the Kalkars, muttering that they were growing tired of having to endure my speeches. “Kill her.” “Eat her.” That was another popular one with the Kalkars, demanding that I be consumed. It was certainly a tradition with their kind, and I was not expecting them to pass up on that philosophy now.
But Kel-ee-kni was not allowing matters to spiral out of control. Instead, maintaining her calm, she said tightly, “I think that allowing my men here to consume you is perfectly justified. How do you think it will not be?”
“Because you will simply have taken the first step to your own demise.”
Several of the Kalkars still made noises over how they desired to spread my flesh thin and devour it as quickly as they could. Yet my firm words took up a stance in Kel-ee-kni’s mind that would not banish itself quite so quickly. “How do you figure that?” she asked challengingly.
I did not answer immediately. Instead, I simply sighed aloud and looked off in no particular direction. I was allowing my mind to drift in the vague hope that maybe I might simply fall unconscious and perhaps even fade away before she could do anything about it. But then Kel-ee-kni shook me violently, snapping me back to the present. “How,” she demanded again with the tone of voice of one who would brook no challenges, “do you figure that?”
Notching up the defiance in my voice, I said, “Because my son is out there right now. The son of Julian 5th. He stalks these woods and he will hunt you down and finish you. That is something you will have to face. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon. So rest while you can and smile to yourself about how clever you are, because time is abandoning you even as we speak.”
Kel-ee-kni heard that and laughed, but there was something beneath her voice that spoke to the pure terror of contemplating such an end for herself. Once she had ceased quaking with amusement, her considerations appeared to slip into the zombie breach. The unsettled urgings of the Kalkars, who seemed to be equally split between letting me go and devouring me immediately, seemed rather testing on the subject.
Finally she could stand it no longer. “Fine,” she said, and extended her hand. Without having to reinforce it by so much as a word, a broad-handled axe was slid into her hand. “I shall attend to this myself, if you’re all going to be debating about it.”
I closed my eyes and waiting for the inevitable end.
“You don’t wish to see it coming?” said Kel-ee-kni, and she cut loose with a careless cackle. “Very well then! Such do I grant you!”
Against the soundlessness of the night, I heard an axe come swinging around, slicing through the air.
And then there was a sharp clang and it jolted my eyes to wideness. I looked around just in time to see that my son, the accomplished Julian 6th, standing just behind me and smacking Kel-ee-kni of the Kalkars into a more charitable formation.
Julian lashed out with his right foot. Even though he was only fourteen, he was already a bear prowling the mountains amongst shorn-down sheep. He had grabbed up Kel-ee-kni with the same bravado that would have been required for simply standing there empty-handed and then, with only a sample of his assault level, knocked aside the nearest Kalkars.
“No, you can’t!” screamed one of the Kalkars, but there was nothing around to prove that he could possibly do otherwise.
Tearing, snarling, ripping through his opponents, Julian set to work on them. He had a sword and a gun, but wasn’t even bothering to touch the latter. Instead, he carved through the Kalkars with nothing but sheer determined gusto. By the time he had gutted the fifth one, the first was still sinking to the ground with a look of great surprise upon his face. In all, it couldn’t have been more than ten seconds for Julian 6th to carve our assailants to pieces.
He whirled and saw Kel-ee-kni back up, her hands in the air, her eyes wide with fear. At the same time, though, there was still determination. “My . . . my son, Orthis, will destroy you!” she cried out. “No matter what you do to me! No matter how determined you are to battle me! No matter how—!”
“Oh my God,” muttered Julian, who had clearly had enough. He took two quick steps and swung his left fist around. He struck her squarely in the jaw, and she went down, hitting the side of her head on the rock as she fell. She lay there, arms and legs splayed to either side, and he stood over her with his sword pointed squarely at her throat. “Shall I dispose of her, Mother?” he asked. The tone of his voice was utterly bland: I could have ordered her spared or gutted and it would have made not the slightest difference to him.
That awareness was too much for me to bear. “Let her be,” I said finally.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. With any luck, this will be the last we see of her.”
He shrugged and returned the sword to its scabbard. Then he unslung a bag from his shoulder and opened it for me to inspect. There was much fresh meat within; my son had been busy.
I should have seen it as nothing more than a collection of food to be added to our larder. Instead, I took one look at it and began to sob. Immediately, obviously concerned that he had committed some great wrong, Julian moved to comfort me. I pushed him away even as I pulled myself together. “You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m just thinking of how proud your father would be of you. And I . . .” The tears began rolling down my face.
Julian 6th reached over and rubbed away the tears, smiling at me gently. “Let’s go,” was all he said.
We went.
I do not know why I feel the way that I do.
There is a dull ache in my side, one that had not been there before. I have felt it more than once in recent days, and I simply cannot understand why it keeps turning up.
It haunts me in my dreams, and I am even aware of it when I am awake. I scratch at it and there is nothing there, yet it continues to pursue me.
> And through it all, there is my Julian 5th. I see him standing not far away, gazing upon me, reaching out to me. Curiously his face keeps changing, and sometimes he is Julian 5th, and other times the Ninth, and still other times the Third. He smiles to me, and I smile back, never knowing or understanding his reasons for being in the vicinity.
Why is he here? Why has he come?
No answers. Only more questions.
* * *
The cabin is quite small, and yet it has served us well over the years.
We have traveled from one end of the country to the other and have taken up residence at the New York/Ontario border. Not that it makes much difference anymore which side of the lakes we’re on. We are all of us, all of us, Kalkars.
And we feel good about that.
We have to. Because otherwise we are dead.
Not that any of us are feeling good about it, you understand. There are those of us, a precious few, who remain opposed to the situation in front of us. The Kalkars, our assailants from the Moon, have continued to rain down upon us, more and more showing up every year. Millions in all, leaving all of us to wonder where in the hell can they be coming from? I cannot fathom it. No one can. In the end, it is not ours to fathom, but merely to live with.
As for us, we endeavor to live as far from it as possible.
The woods around Niagara Falls remain relatively indifferent to those of us choosing to live around there. We had discovered our particular haven about a year or so after we avoided capture in the lower west end of Canada and instead made our way to the far east. Day after day after day we had lived outside or in caves or in small homes whose owners would, however temporarily, allow us to stay with them before insisting we moved on. How could we do otherwise, especially when Julian would start talking about overcoming the enemy and reestablishing a world for humanity? No one wanted to hear such talk. It made them nervous. And each time we would excuse ourselves and thank the people for whatever small amenities they could provide us, and each time Julian would subsequently apologize to me for talking us out of yet another home.
