The Shattered Sky

by Paul Lucas

  “D’Artagnan, that’s enough!”

  “Can’t I even have a little fun?” the spiders whispered in unison. “I don’t get to be the villain that often! How about if I suck out just a little of her juice?”

  Zell’s eyes popped wide as she shrieked again. She stabbed an accusing tool-finger at me. “The rumors are true! You are a user of magic!” Her voice got very small as the spiders skittered forward. “Please don’t let your monsters hurt me.”

  I was just about to use a sleep spirit on her to keep her out of the way when an insistent knock sounded on the door. “Gossamyr!” Came Kalen’s voice. He and two guards burst in. “Gossamyr, we have to leave before the stronghold is overrun! Our plasma weapons won’t work! I don’t know what trick Skel used...”

  I turned casually and swept my hand at the guards. They fell to the floor, unconscious from a sleep spirit. Kalen gaped, and then with horror belatedly recognized my dress and the weapon in my hand. I leveled the gun at him. “Not Skel’s trick, Kalen. Ours. Now by the sacred skies please do not move. I do not want to see you hurt.”

  The handmaiden trembled. “She’s a worker of magic, Councileader! These monsters are her familiars!” Some of the spider swarm’s element bodies, unable to resist such a dramatic cue, hissed theatrically.

  Kalen was only confused for a moment. His eyes narrowed on mine, full of hurt. “I never really knew you at all, did I? Why? Why do all this?”

  I decided to pretend to hear him ask “how?” instead. “Those ‘monsters’ are D’Artagnan, the fifth member of our party from the Tower. He’s a Spider Swarm, a communal intelligence of sorts. He is also a technical expert. He is the one who figured out that all of your weapons had a radio-activated shut-off code built into them by the Cephalopods. It was their insurance against you ever using their own weapons against them. He figured out the code and tight-beamed it around the stronghold to de-activate your weapons, then gave Skel’s forces the signal to attack. I doubt your forces can get their hands on enough gunpowder weapons on such short notice to even slow Skel's advance.”

  A painful thrum hit my ears, causing me to grimace. I had been expecting it, but Zell and Kalen had not. They cried out, hands clamping hard over their ears.

  “A Shattersound spell,” I said. “Amethyst and Louis have been freed and like me have been given all their old equipment back, courtesy of D’Artagnan here. I imagine they are now fighting their way to the gate, to let Skel in.”

  Kalen started for a moment, as if to run and warn his people. But a tensing of my fingers on the trigger squelched that. His eyes narrowed. “You have not answered my question. Why, Gossamyr? I thought that you and I...” His voice died.

  I lowered my weapon. He did not try to run away. He knew it would be useless, now. Or perhaps his need for answers outweighed any other concerns at the moment. “Kalen, it is complicated. I would be lying if I said I did not have feelings for you. But the Cephalopods your people deal with, they are monsters. They control you every way they can. They control the technology that your society depends on, make you utterly dependent on them for it, and as D’Artagnan has shown they have always had the means to take it away from you if you got out of line. How much longer until you would have become their slaves altogether?”

  “We are not slaves!” Kalen snapped back. “You think we were blind to what the Cephalopods were doing? We knew they were trying to use us! But we were using them as well! We were learning from their technology. Slowly, yes, but we were learning. Some day...”

  A new voice rang out from the hallway. “Some day when? Generations from now? When our children or grandchildren have completely forgotten what it is like to live in a world without monsters from beyond the bottom of the world? When they know of no other life without the Cephalopods?”

  Skel strode into the room, flanked by her own soldiers. She wore leather strappings with metal strips bolted into them at strategic places. The ensemble reminded me of primitive human armors I had seen in a museum on my visit to the Known Nations. It was blackened and broken in number of places, and the fur on her exposed face was seared completely away, leaving only chalky ash clinging to her skin. Apparently she had gotten too close to a plasma rifle hit.

  “You got here much faster than I expected,” I said.

  “The main attack was a diversion. Your friends helped me slip in through Kalen’s ‘secret’ tunnels.”

  “What? Why was I not told about that?”

  She almost sneered. “Like you just said, you have feelings for Kalen. We did not want you to back down at the last minute out of concern for him. You already failed to, ah, secure him once. You could not be trusted not to do so again.”

  I hefted my KN-made rifle to point at the fallen guards. “As you can see, I did not.”

  She frowned. “No, you did not.”

  For a heartbeat, all that could be heard were the distant thunder of the plasma weapons and the screams of the people they were killing.

  “All this has accomplished nothing,” Kalen said bitterly. “The other Councilmembers will fight you, Skel.”

  “Axa and Rherel already have thrown in with me, and the others are sympathizers among the Council.”

  “And those are willing to support you against the Cephalopods? Especially after you have displayed your propensity for betrayal with this cowardly attack?”

  “They may have no choice. With you captured and your base of power neutralized, mine is the most powerful faction. Especially if we can neutralize the others’ Cephalopod-given weapons with a simple radio signal.”

  Kalen scowled hard.

  “It does not have to be like this,” I urged him before he could say anything. “You could join Skel. With you backing her, your people will rally against the Cephalopods as a whole.”

  “And be annihilated. Gossamyr, you don’t understand the power they have! Skel, have you forgotten they can send their ships up through the Underworld to the surface?”

  My jaw went slack. D’Artagnan’s element bodies skittered about themselves in naked agitation. We both turned toward Skel. “What?”

  Skel looked away.

  My resentment toward her redoubled in an instant. “Why did you not tell us this?”

  D’Artagnan added, “If they are anything like the other Cephalopod ships the Known Nations has fought with, they will be invariably armed with nuclear missiles. They could wipe out your entire civilization with a few volleys.”

  “They won’t do that!” Skel countered. “They only brought up one ship once many years ago, as a demonstration of their power. The truth is they have spent so long in space that this environment is very painful to them. They hate it, especially the high gravity. We have long figured out that the “ambassadors” sent to our Council meetings are actually being punished by this duty. Besides, they need the organics we provide. They will not risk wiping us out. They may attempt to suppress us, to enslave us, but they will not destroy us.”

  Kalen sneered. “You’re risking an awful lot on that one assumption.”

  “One cannot win without taking some risks. You used to know that, Kalen, until being Councileader made you content and slow.”

  “So what happens now?” Kalen asked.

  Skel shrugged. “The Cephalopods will of course be very concerned about all this violence, but we will play up what it seems on the surface: an internal power struggle only, a bloody coup against you and nothing else. We will give them more than the usual amount of wood and moss and water to placate them, to show them that this new regime will continue to support them as the old regime did. But all the chaos that will follow in the next few days will give us ample opportunity to cover troop and artillery movements.”

  Kalen’s mouth set in a grim line. “And then you will try to capture and hold the Spaceport.”

  “Of course. A lightning strike with most of our military power behind it and with the element of surprise should be able to accomplish it. Especially now since we have several surprise
s of our own working for us.” She shot me a knowing glance.

  “And if you fail?”

  “We won’t fail.”

  Kalen ignored her. “If you fail, the Cephalopods will retaliate. Harshly, brutally. They may not destroy us utterly, but I have little doubt that they will wipe out one or more entire enclaves as an object lesson to those of us who ever have rebellious thoughts again. Tens of thousands will die, our military will be wiped out, our industrial strength crippled, our people’s wills shattered. We will never be able to even try to cast them off again. Ever.”

  Skel was quiet for many heartbeats. “I know that,” she admitted. “And it will be my enclave, my people, that will most likely be destroyed. But we are already committed. It is now or never. That is why you must join us, Kalen. With your support, we can bring the fence-sitters on the Council fully behind this plan, attack the Cephalopods with all of our coordinated strength. We would stand a much better chance of victory. Without you, the Council will remain factionalized, and we will only be able to strike at our tormentors with a fraction of the forces we have. Whether you agree with my decisions or not, Kalen, even you can see that holding back now only endangers us all.”

  The silence stretched as Kalen considered her words. The fate an entire people rested on what he would say next.

  Which is why what he said next took everyone completely by surprise: “Gossamyr, can I ask you something? Can you be honest with me?”

  “Um, of course, Kalen.”

  “Your husband’s people have fought against the Cephalopods before. Tell me, truthfully, can my people win?”

  “Kalen, I am an outsider to the Known Nations. Perhaps you should ask Louis, or Amethyst, or even D’Artagnan. They would know more about the Cephalopods’ capabilities than I would.”

  “But I have a feeling that they will tell me only what I want to hear. I know you will tell me the truth, even if it is unpleasant. If I truly mean anything to you, Searcher, please, tell me.”

  His eyes were full of hurt and anger, yet I could see the desperate need in them. He would listen to what I had to say, weigh my words as part of his decision to affect thousands and thousands of lives. All eyes in the room were upon me.

  I had never been so scared to utter a sound, even when we had seiged the Xique-infested Tower.

  “I...” my throat squeaked. I cleared it and tried again. “Kalen, I honestly do not know if your people can drive the Cephalopods away from your Spaceport. There are so many unknown factors. You have the numbers and surprise but they have the technology.”

  “Honestly, Gossamyr,” Kalen reminded me.

  I looked deep inside myself for an answer. I did not like what I found. “I have been to the Known Nations and I am fully aware of what high technology is capable of. My people have been forever changed by contact with the humans simply by our having met them.” Those words hurt me even as I uttered them. It was the first time that I had truly admitted as such, even to myself. Perhaps it was because of the situation, perhaps because of my extreme homesickness, or perhaps because I was simply growing older, but I suddenly missed the simplicity of my life before the humans came. “That is the power of such tools. I think it is possible for your people to gain a decisive victory against the Cephalopods, but against such power the chances are very slim. But there is also truth to what Councilord Skel says that our chances are much more narrow--perhaps non-existent--without you.”

  “Thank you, Gossamyr,” Kalen said. “What she said only confirms what I myself thought. I will join you, Skel.”

  The Councilmember was taken aback. “You will?”

  Kalen nodded slowly. “Whether I approve or not, you have forced my hand. If this is to be our only opportunity, than we must take full advantage of it. I will not publicly support you, as we must maintain the fiction that this was a coup, but I will talk privately to the other Councilmembers to ensure that they back you fully.” His eyes narrowed. “This coup IS just a ruse, right, Skel?”

  Skel hesitated just for a moment. “I could not gain the support of the rest of the Council for our true purpose if it was anything else.”

  A good answer, almost as if it were well-rehearsed.

  I had a feeling that even if we defeated the Cephalopods, the fighting here would be far from over.

  But that would have to wait until after. Now all that stood between Kalen’s people and freedom was the Spaceport.

  SIXTY-FOUR

  Vacuum.

  Just the word itself was enough to evoke a shiver of dread up my spine. It seems no one from the KN could ever write about it in all the magazines and books I read without describing some of the horrible effects of being exposed to it. Air screaming out of your lungs. Eyes bleeding. Flesh bloating out and bursting like over-full water bladders...

  Now vacuum stared at me from the opposite side of the window wall from the meeting room I had been brought to when I first was brought to the Llexan Spaceport. On that other side, plasma gun bolts ripped and flashed as Myotan soldiers wearing the few vacuum-proof suits built for our kind engaged surprised and panicky Cephalopods. Even one stray shot hitting the transparent windowall and I would experience the agonies of the naked vacuum for myself.

  A rag tag group of soldiers gasped and rested around me, having fought hard to get me this far. Our goal: the Builder crystal ensconced in the relic spacecraft still swathed in its berthing cradle.

  Things had gone as well as could be expected, so far. Skel’s forces had taken the few Cephalopods that guarded the surface entrance after a fierce fight, and launched a surprise assault on the scattered Cephalopods in the Underworld when they emerged from the Surface elevator. The invertebrates' were slow to react in each skirmish, presumably from surprise and the high gravity they hated.

  Louis tugged at my arm. “C’mon, Gossamyr. We have to go.”

  “Wait. Something’s happening...”

  The impossibly huge airlock doors over us on the top of the open docking bay cranked open silently. What I assumed could only be a Cephalopod spaceship slipped down through. It looked like an enormous, welded-together mass of pipes and metal boxes. It seemed to follow no discernible design or symmetry, just a clump of material suspended over us by repeated burns of its thrusters.

  It immediately drew the fire of the Myotan soldiers below. Pits of molten metal erupted on its surface wherever the plasma bolts hit.

  Suddenly a grayish wave exploded from the leading edge, blasting into the Myotans with merciless force. Before my eyes over a dozen living beings were smashed into barely recognizable pulp, swathed in clouds of vacuum-crystallized blood.

  “Wh-what--?” I started to ask.

  Louis pulled me savagely by the arm. “Gossamyr, we have to go! NOW!”

  I realized with a start that most of the troops had already left the observation alcove, leaving only me, Louis, and a very anxious pair of rear guards shifting nervously by the exit.

  “Run!” Louis shouted. We exited the door, and less than two heartbeats later a horrendous flash of heat exploded behind us with a near-deafening whompf! A rush of scorched air blew past us.

  We slowed down only when we caught up the main body of soldiers. I looked behind us, grateful to see the two soldiers behind us hadn’t suffered any more than Louis and I.

  I expected air to be howling past us to the vacuum beyond the smashed window wall, but nothing beyond an overly-warm puff. “I do not understand,” I said.

  “I'm guessing the ship hit the observation room with a laser. One set to the frequency of visible light, judging by how it passed right through the windowall without hurting it. We would have been spatters of bubbling goo if we stayed in there. As it is, the laser just probably superheated the room’s air.”

  Our troop of soldiers continued to advance down winding UTSite corridors, us in tow. “But why would the Cephalopods have lasers like that? I thought space combat was fought with missiles!”

  “It is,” Louis said. “They’re the only things
with the range and accuracy to hit across the thousand of miles of space that ships fight at. But because of that, ships carry anti-missile defenses. That laser isn’t meant to hit other ships, its meant to take out an incoming missile.” He spat. “I read all about this stuff as a kid in high school. I always thought it was cool, space combat and all, you know? And before you ask, the Myotans down in the hangar bay got hit with what I think was a sandcaster. Another anti-missile weapon, meant as a last-ditch short-range defense. Shoots a lot of fine-grain particles in the direction of the missile to act as a spread-out barrier. Against missiles, its effectiveness is so-so. Against living people, though, its like God’s own shotgun.”

  “Spirits.”

  The roar of plasma weapon fire ricocheted down the winding corridors to us. The lead soldiers of our platoon had encountered their first heavy resistance. Our advance halted, us too-valuable outlanders held back behind a twist of corridor for safety.

  I chanced a quick glance around a corner at the battle. Three Cephalopods in robotic walkers defended the pressurized walkway far down the corridor as half the Myotan soldiers with us lay down a barrage of suppressing fire. The other half scrambled for the cover of a cross-corridor halfway between their comrades and the enemy. More than one soldier exploded in a shower of hot viscera and super-heated blood from the enemy's plasma bolts.

  I ducked back around the corner. “We should try a spell! Maybe a Fire Spirit or a Shattersound...”

  Louis shook his head vigorously. “Won’t work,” I barely heard him say over the thunder crashing in the next corridor. “I already tried. The ‘Pods always make sure their operational areas are Dead Zones. They don’t use the Matrix that much. On the spaceships where they live, one badly-cast spell could kill everybody. So they usually destroy the nanites in an area with flamers before they set up any serious operations so no one can use the Nanotech Matrix against them.”

  I nodded. That made sense, in an odd way. But it did not stop me from feeling helpless.