by Gini Koch
So Jamie had been taken here for her own protection as well as Chuckie’s. And probably ours, too. If she’d been on Earth, ACE would have been conflicted about the “rightness” of saving us. But she was out there with us, giving ACE the easiest of outs for protecting all of us when we were exposed and helpless in space. The final proof, as if I’d needed it, as to who’d engineered the “accidental grab.”
I was used to thinking quickly, and I’d done so now. We bumped gently up against the Shantanu command vessel that had arrived with the Cleophese.
“But Christopher’s right. We need to focus on what’s going on here, make sure we do it right. We can figure out all the other stuff later.”
This seemed to appease everyone other than Christopher himself and 2.0, both of whom looked like they suspected I wasn’t telling them everything. I’d worry about what to tell them later. It was truly show time.
We were met by a variety of Penguin People. It turned out there was more coloration in them than The Clarence Clone had seen. Rohini, for example, was a beautiful blue with gold. In addition to the colorations The Clone had told us about, there were also some that were deep red and gold, deep brown and gold, and even some blue with red tummies, and red with blue tummies. The Clone was right—they were very pretty.
We hustled to their ship’s command deck. Along the way Reader took my elbow and pulled me to the back. “I heard what you were all talking about,” he said in a low voice. “You think ACE engineered everything, don’t you?”
I didn’t, but I couldn’t tell him who I really thought was involved. Time to lie. “Yeah, I do.”
He nodded. “Okay, we’ll just move the conversation off the topic if it comes up again. We can tell Christopher when we’re alone with him, but no one else outside of our inner circle needs to know.”
Hugged him. “Thanks, James.” That was the outcome that was best for everyone, after all.
We hurried up and rejoined the rest of the group. We had a long way to walk, so we really hadn’t missed anything, and caught up right as we entered the command deck, which had the nice, large windshield that was also a viewing screen.
Everyone got into position—Lakin and Usha were on their knees, Renata was “controlling” the prisoners, Christopher was “off screen” so he couldn’t be seen by anyone, and Reader and I were up with the Beta Eight natives, this ship’s captain, who was of the brown and gold variety, The Clarence Clone, and 2.0.
Looked into my purse. “I need something that looks enough like a small laser to fool dino-birds.” Reached in and came up with a snazzy penlight. Not Algar’s finest hour, but it was something that could believably be in my purse, so I didn’t argue.
The go sign was sent over from other ships. Our ship’s captain, who was named Bettini, also had a comlink to the Cleophese, and they were ready. Our fleet was all connected, too. The entire fleet—all planetary ships, regardless of where they were located within the solar system—was on the group com. It was a nice setup, and one that ensured that if the Z’porrah tried something, we’d know about it immediately.
“Hailing Z’porrah fleet,” the Group Operator who was on Alexander’s ship shared. Usha had given us a variety of channel codes, so one of them was definitely going to work.
The first one, apparently. “Usha, you have news for us?”
“Go live onscreen,” she said.
“As you wish.” Our windshield went live and there they were, the dino-birds in all their humanoid-ish Mini Tyrannosaurus Rex With Wings And Feathers glory. Apparently their weird Space Toga Muumuu look was their everyday garb, as were their design-painted talons that stuck out from the bottom of the Space Toga. The Space Togas hid their small wings and little T-Rex arms, so I figured the feathers that stuck out of the Space Toga sleeves were decorative, like the talon paint.
There were three Dino-Birds onscreen. They looked like every other Dino-Bird I’d seen. Happily, I hadn’t seen enough Z’porrah to know if I’d met this set or not. They literally all looked alike to me.
“Usha, what is the meaning of this?”
The beauty of having flipped a spy was that she’d given us a lot of intel. “Hey there! You must be K’tano. And that’s Ast’ria and Riol flanking you, am I right?”
K’tano gaped at me. “How do you know us?”
“Well, here’s the thing—we have your spy. Spies, really. The ones that are still alive, that is, which isn’t nearly as many as you had here only a day ago. And we have ways of making spies talk. Like Usha, here. Made her sing, really. She’s explained that you three are really hella old, at least by Earth standards. Three hundred years if you’re a day, Earth years-wise. And you three have been in charge of many things in those many years.”
“What of it? You are a lesser race. You have no business—”
“Oh, shut it. We know what you’re doing. Or at least what you think you’re doing. But here’s the thing—we don’t plan on allowing it. Your underlings tried to invade and conquer Earth three years ago. They failed. Utterly. In no small part because the Alpha Centauri system came to help us. They’re who you wanted, anyway. So, even though they showed you mercy, you formulated a new plan.”
“You have no right to speak to K’tano in that way,” the one I was pretty sure was Ast’ria snapped. Literally. She snapped when she spoke. It was charming in that totally not at all way.
“I have every right, Bird Bitch. I am speaking for the combined Earth and Alpha Centauri leadership. All of whom are still very much alive and kicking.”
That was the cue for more pictures to be shown. We got to see them, too, as they popped up and stayed up. Everyone in Alexander’s picture looked pissed. Same for those in the Reptilian, Canus Majorian, and Feliniad command ships. Wahoa and Felicia, in particular, looked like they were the last dog and cat in the galaxy you’d want to cross.
Even the Alpha Six command ship people looked angry, as did the Alpha Five representatives who were with them.
“Note, if you will, that the only Rapacian you see is kneeling at my feet on the Alpha Seven command ship. Also note that you don’t see a visual from an Alpha Five command ship. Let’s show you why.”
Jeff picked up Lenore’s dead body, which had been moved to Alexander’s ship, and held it up. Then he threw it, hard, onto the floor. The body thumped in that sack-of-potatoes way a dead body will.
The Dino-Birds looked a tad concerned. “What did you do to her?” the one called Riol asked. He sounded just mildly upset.
“I killed her,” Chuckie snarled. “With my bare hands.”
He looked impressively dangerous and deranged. There was only one problem—this was not on script.
CHAPTER 98
“AND I CAN’T WAIT to kill all of you in the same way,” Chuckie went on. “Every last one of you.”
Got the distinct impression that he meant this, in a very real and very personal way. Also had the impression that the Z’porrah were standing in for Cliff right now in his mind. Couldn’t argue with that, really.
“And right after we enjoyed that particular hand-to-hand combat,” I said quickly, before he could go on, or Jeff had to obviously restrain him, “we took over her ship. What you fail to realize is that this system has far more protections than you’re aware of. One of those is on Beta Eight. Beta Eight has more protections than this one, as well, but what I’m talking about for this scenario is a giant laser cannon. We’d like to show you what it will do to an attacking ship. Lenore’s command ship, for example. Commander Dwyer, go ahead.”
“On your order, Commander Martini. Firing in three . . . two . . . one . . .”
This was our biggest special effect, and the one everyone was most worried about working. Serene and Rohini had altered the telescope to reflect the sunlight. We had several ships in the fleet stationed at points both within the planet’s atmosphere and at different distances in space,
all leading toward the wreckage of the Shantanu ship.
The picture shifted to the ship nearest the telescope, which was a Feliniad vessel. Happily, the telescope “fired” right after Serene said “one” and the ship caught it well. The view onscreen instantly shifted to the next ships in line, some of whom were catching the light, and some of whom were making their own and enhancing the light coming up from the planet.
Because everyone involved in this portion had hyperspeed—the crew member handling the view switches in particular—it went well, with no discernible breaks in coverage.
The picture switched for the last time, to show a gigantic burst of light. This had been filmed earlier, by having every ship in the fleet shine their lights toward where our action was taking place, and then splicing them together to create the huge light show. Serene was the current Head of Imageering and Christopher was the former, meaning that this was done well and easily.
As the light died down, remains of the Shantanu ship we’d brought up from the planet were floating there. The Cleophese had broken it up into smaller pieces for us, so that it would be difficult to tell that the remains were from an allied ship.
“That wreckage was from one shot. A wide lens shot. We can make the shots more pinpoint, but when you’re destroying something you really want to obliterate, wide lens is the way to go. And lest you think we’re faking it, I have a handheld version with me. Please watch your live demonstration.”
Pointed my “laser” penlight at Usha, who screamed. “No! Please! I helped you! I cooperated!”
“Sorry. You work for the Z’porrah, so you get to die.” Turned the light on her.
This was Christopher’s cue and he didn’t disappoint. He zipped in at full Flash Level, grabbed Usha, and took her off-screen, while Reader surreptitiously took pictures with his phone camera aimed right at our ship’s internal camera—with the flash on high. To everyone watching it looked like Usha was here one moment and completely obliterated by the laser flash the next.
Turned the penlight off and looked back at the screen. “So, one more Z’porrah spy down.”
“We will destroy you,” K’tano said. He sounded angry and, happily, just a little scared.
I snorted. Loudly. “Oh, you can try. I mean, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Oh, they have a laser cannon and some spaceships and lots of people who are seriously angry with us. But we don’t care because we think we have more ships and we know that we still have allies in that system. Plus we have a giant Dino-Bird army. And now we’re here to say that we don’t just have one Hulk. We have a plethora. Dino-Guys and Gals, meet the Cleophese.”
Another cue, this time for the cameras to beam what was going on outside, a little ways away from the site of the laser destruction, to the Z’porrah, and for the Cleophese to do their Hulk Smash thing.
There were only four ships and a lot of Cleophese. So it took them almost no time to rip the four ships apart. Then they ate all the remains. Nice to know the Cleophese could do that without harming themselves. Had no idea how they could do that and not explode in space, either, but since they were not exploding, figured they had their ways. Maybe dwelling at the bottom of deep seas gave them special advantages in the airless vacuum of space. Maybe I’d ask Rohini about it later. Much, much later.
I let the silence build as the Space Sea Monsters did their thing. Then they sort of swam over to the ships in our part of the fleet, being careful not to block any key ships’ windshields. They dwarfed most of the ships—only the gigantic Alpha Four battle cruisers looked normal next to the Cleophese.
“Now,” I said sweetly, “you’ve met some of our other allies. They happen to live in this solar system and they happen to dislike you Z’porrah on general principle. Which shows how highly intelligent they are. Your allies here are conquered. Speaking of which . . .” Pointed the laser at Lakin.
Who cringed and put his claw hands up. “No! Please! I beg for mercy! The remaining Rapacians give full fealty to Earth and Alpha Four. We will fight for the Imperial Monarchy forever if you will spare us.”
He was acting, but he did actually mean this—that had been agreed to during our planning session. And since he was now the leader of the Rapacians—us having killed off the other leaders—Lakin’s word was Rapacian law.
“But King Alexander showed mercy to the Z’porrah, and they returned that kindness by sending more of their spies and insurgents into this solar system. They repaid the magnanimous gesture by coming here to destroy everyone. You’re a bird-race, too. Why should we trust you?”
Lakin shook his head and stood up slowly. “We are avian, yes. But we are not of the Z’porrah. We are of Ancient blood and design, and we will always be. The Ancient’s enemies are our enemies, just as enemies of the Earth’s and the Imperial Monarchy’s are our enemies. I vow this for all Rapacians, from here forward.”
I appeared to study him for a few long seconds. “Fine. We’ll be keeping an eye on you—just as we’re keeping an eye on Alpha Five and Alpha Six. But for now your life and your planet are spared.”
Looked back at the Dino-Birds. “So, despite all this, I know you still think you have an ace up your flowing, feathered sleeves, and that’s the fact that you have a puppet as the king of Beta Eight.”
2.0 stepped up next to me and waved. “Hey there, K’tano, is it? And Ast’ria and Riol, too, right? How’s it going? Look, apparently I was supposed to be some useless figurehead, just holding a planet for you until you came to destroy it. But, well, I got a better offer. I’m happily with Earth and the Imperial Monarchy, where they don’t just use you and then throw you away. So, there is no planet in this system that is open or sympathetic to your cause.”
“Thanks, Ronnie. Keep an eye on Lakin for me, would you?” Handed him the penlight, which he then aimed at Lakin. Those two moved back, so that I was once again in the foreground. “I realize this has been a lot for your birdbrains to take in. So, let me lay out your options for you.
“Option A is that you can turn your nasty Dino-Bird asses around and leave, and by leave I mean never darken Alpha Centauri or Earth solar systems again. And by never darken I include that to mean that you will stop sending spies and insurgents into our systems.
“Or, as Option B, you can try to fight us. Keeping in mind that there are more Cleophese on their way to guard every planet and support all of the fleet—which conveniently enough your actions mobilized, so everyone’s all fired up and ready and, now that the civil war is over, just itching to shoot at the people who made them start fighting in the first place. You know how it is when you get your fancy ships up into space—you just want to blow stuff up all over the place. Something I realize you’re all itching to do, too.”
“If you do choose to fight,” Chuckie said, once again not on script, “then know that we know where you are. I saw all of you in your ships, coming here. I saw where you came from. I can find your home planet now, with ease. And if you attack I’m going to ensure that everyone in this system knows where your home planet is, too.”
“Meaning we’ll bring this war to you next,” I said. Off script or not, had a feeling Chuckie was definitely scaring the Z’porrah. “We’re going to make sure that everyone in both solar systems has a map to your house. And then we’re going to use that map and we’re going to turn your planet into rubble. Because if that’s what it takes to make you leave us all the hell alone, then that’s what we’ll do.”
I made and held eye contact with K’tano. Not as hard to do as it sounded—the audiovisual in this solar system was top-of-the-line.
“If it were me, I’d choose Option A. But I’ve never felt you were as smart as me. So, if you go with the same plan that failed before and choose Option B, I have just one thing to say to you. Bring it.”
CHAPTER 99
AND NOW WE SHUT UP. This was what I’d stressed the most in the planning session—that once I made this fi
nal offer, no one else, on any ship in the fleet, was to speak.
Everyone—even Chuckie, which, today, seemed like a miracle—managed to keep their traps shut. The silence spread out. And still we waited. And while we waited, I tested my staredown skills on K’tano.
He was tough, I had to give him that. But in the end, maybe because of the oxygen-rich atmosphere I’d been in for days, he wasn’t Mom or Chuckie. I won—he looked away.
Then he turned away from the cameras, as did Ast’ria and Riol. And their screen went blank.
“Audio as well as visual cut to Z’porrah fleet,” the fleet announcer shared.
“All ships, stand by,” Alexander said.
We waited.
“Sire, this is Battalion Ship Twenty-Seven-Twelve, on sentry at the Z’porrah point of entry into our system.”
Felt everyone on every ship hold their breath.
“Go on,” Alexander said.
“Sire, the Z’porrah fleet is in full retreat. Repeat, enemy ships are in full retreat at warp. And have just made a hyperleap through their traveling wormhole. They are now nowhere near our solar system.”
As we cheered, other sentries reported no signs of the Z’porrah fleet popping out anywhere we didn’t want them, Earth solar system included.
Christopher and Usha rejoined us. “I’m honestly shocked they fell for it,” he said.
Usha shook her head. “They aren’t used to being lied to. They’re used to frantic begging and a variety of offers and bribes, but someone risking everything by staging a fake show like this? I don’t believe it’s ever happened to them.”
“You’d think a people who’d been around for longer than humans can contemplate, let alone individuals who’ve been around for three or four hundred years, would figure out that liars and fakes exist. But I’m perfectly happy with the outcome, so let’s keep them naïvely in the dark.”
