The Dark Defiance

by A. G. Claymore

  “Only the worst sort of fool would ignore a discovery like this one,” she addressed the crowd at large. “We must go at once and find out who it is that names their ship for my own good-uncle.”

  Blessed Æsir, Caul frowned. I had forgotten that her last husband was related. He supervised the construction of this very ship. Few captains would want to vote against her wishes now. Half of them were doubtless hoping to win her eye after she had finished with Caul. She turned and walked back to her captains.

  The iron is hot, swing the hammer now. Caul stepped out to the center. “Does anyone else wish to speak on this matter?” There was an undercurrent of chuckles. No captain was eager to risk speaking out against an opponent with Sigrunn’s reputation. “All in favor of an immediate interception of this mystery vessel?”

  Cera

  Polumet Power Corporation

  Tommy stood on the same rooftop pad where they had met the Polumet managers. Seren was there with him as well as Jim Anders who was ready to act as ground guide for Walt Schirra. Representatives from what remained of the planetary government were on their way but it was foolish to wait, knowing how crucial it was to get the power back up. In the hospitals alone, the mortality rate was appalling.

  “I don’t know where all those people will work, now that their building is gone,” Seren said mournfully as he gazed at the rubble pile that had once been the administration building. Liam’s team had dropped it on its side with a series of closely-timed explosive charges.

  “I very much doubt that you will be billing customers for the foreseeable future,” Tommy retorted. “I think it’s very likely that you will find yourselves pressed into government service. Your economy isn’t going to support much commerce for quite some time.”

  “Gods!” Seren exclaimed. “Half of my savings is tied up in this company’s stock. I’ll be wiped out.” He stared towards the bulk of the city. “How close do you think we can get those officials to the edge of the roof?” He asked with a wry grin.

  “You’re certainly not the first person to think about throwing a politician off a roof,” Tommy said as he looked up at the low-hanging clouds. There were flashes of light illuminating them from within. Thunder battered at their eardrums. “You may be the most likely to pull it off without getting caught,” he yelled over the sudden cacophony.

  “Roger, Völund, I can make out the hull now,” Jim shouted into his headset. His conversation with Walt was being relayed through the transmitter in the lighter sitting on the pad behind them.

  The clouds were parting as a dark shadow slowly resolved itself into the lower surface of the Völund’s hull. Static crackled around the outer surface of the ship, creating a highly-localized lighting storm, twitching the vapor of the clouds.

  Tommy felt a catch in his throat. It was easily the most impressive thing he had ever seen. The six-hundred foot vessel made its stately descent out of the clouds. The hum of her massive launch engines combined with the electrical show to create an incredible spectacle. She looks so much bigger from the outside.

  He had been there, at Sparrows Point, Maryland, for the official launch just over a year ago, but it hadn’t been nearly so dramatic. It had been a clear day and the ship’s coils had hummed quietly as the Earth’s magnetic field pushed her into orbit

  Here, the low cloud cover made a smaller, more intimate setting. The Völund, blazing with landing beacons and static discharge, seemed to fill the close space above them.

  When the ship was only a few hundred feet above them, the massive static charge suddenly leaped down to the building’s lighting rod. The concussion was far worse than any stun grenade. Tommy reeled, almost completely senseless until a small part of his mind screamed at him to sit down before he wandered over the parapet.

  As he slowly regained control of his faculties, he could see Seren lying on the tar of the rooftop landing pad, slowly shaking his head. He was the only one not wearing a headset and the blast had affected him far more acutely. Jim was staggering with a hand reached out, as though trying to lean against the shuttle. He was facing in the wrong direction. His arm was reaching out into the empty space over the landing zone, hundreds of feet below.

  Tommy tried to get back up but his body wasn’t responding. He could barely make out a garbled voice over his own headset. Walter was asking if they were o.k. Tommy ignored him, silently raging at his inability to move. He watched in horror as the shuttle pilot teetered on the edge of death.

  Then he was gone.

  Tommy couldn’t help but imagine his friend’s last few seconds – the shocked realization of what was happening to him. Knowing you were about to die had to be a horrible thing. By now, it was probably over.

  He shuddered.

  “Jim,” Walt’s voice sounded muted in Tommy’s ringing ears. “Jim, what the hell is going on down there? I need to know how close we are to those buildings.”

  “Jim’s gone,” Tommy said loudly. “After the static discharge, he went right over the side. I tried to stop him but… I couldn’t move.”

  “Oh my God!” Walt sounded far away. “Tommy, we still need to get the ship down. I’m gonna need you to take over down there and spot for me. I know it can’t be easy for you, considering what you’ve just seen, but we have the safety of everybody on this ship to think of right now.”

  “Right, I’m going to the edge.” Still not trusting his balance, Tommy crawled to the parapet and looked up at the descending ship. He knew that, sooner or later, he would be looking down as he guided the Völund into its tight landing zone. Jim was down there. “How are we going to do this?”

  “Line us up so that you’re looking straight up the port side of the hull. We have about thirty feet of clear space on either side, so line us up and then move us over by fifteen feet. Just keep calling out distances as we come down.”

  Tommy guided the ship into the center of the space and the port side of the hull began to slide down past his rooftop post. Dust and light debris from the demolished administrative building blew up in front of Tommy as the large ship displaced the air in the canyon-like landing area.

  The dust storm settled as the ship came to rest on the three permanent landing points built into its ventral surface. Tommy looked down dully at the top of the ship, only three stories below his perch. He looked up at the bridge, which protruded from the top surface of the ship. Walter looked at him out the windows. They were roughly on the same level.

  Neither spoke.

  The funeral was short. Jim’s only family on Earth was his sister, and Harry had assured the crew that his old friend would not mind being buried so far away from her. The surviving members of the planetary council had arrived to find the human crew gathered around the body of their comrade. They had come to view the restarting of the station’s reactors but, upon hearing of Jim Anders’ death, they offered his remains a place in the capitol mausoleum.

  Within hours, a solemn procession brought Jim’s ashes into the huge, hollow tower in the center of the still-smoking city. The lights were on now, and cameras hovered throughout the somber building, broadcasting to any screens that still functioned. He was carried reverently by the only remaining member of the ruling triumvirate. He gently placed the glossy black urn in a niche that had been occupied, only moments earlier, by the military commander who had first brought Cera into the domain of the old empire, before serving as its governor.

  Tommy translated in a wooden voice for the official. “This man, Jim Anders, came to us at the time of our greatest need. He and his crewmates braved great risk in landing their vessel. They did this so that we might have a chance to survive this horrible nightmare that has been thrust upon us.” The official let his gaze wander across the assembled dignitaries, letting his words sink in.

  “They brought us fuel for our reactors, but even more importantly, they landed their vessel at our main plant so that they could also provide us with the energy to restart our power grid.” He gazed straight at the orange camer
a that hovered in front of him. “It was during this landing that Jim Anders of Earth lost his life as a result of a static discharge.

  “Instead of abandoning the attempt, his brave comrades honored his sacrifice by bringing their vessel safely to the ground, and that is why you see me now, on your screens. The Polumet city plant is now operating at almost full capacity. Thanks to the sacrifices of this brave crew,” the blue camera facing them suddenly displayed a blinking red light beneath it, “our hospitals have power, our food distribution is partially restored and emergency-response vehicles are once again fully charged.

  “Countless Cerrans are still alive solely because of their actions. Those lives shall serve as a continuing homage to the memory of Jim Anders.” Tommy’s voice began to crack as he finished the translation.

  The official nodded to Harry, who stepped forward to stand beside him. Tommy moved to stand slightly behind and to the left of his captain, on the mark shown to him earlier by a protocol officer.

  “I have known Jim Anders since our days at the academy.” Tommy mirrored Harry’s tone, unable to ignore the emotions any longer. “He and I have both seen men die under our command, though we thought those days were behind us, having both signed on to serve on a civilian ship. It’s hard to lose someone under your command. It’s doubly hard when that someone is your best friend, but I take comfort in the knowledge that Jim was the sort of person who would have willingly given his life if it meant saving millions.” They both paused to gather themselves.

  “It was Jim who stopped me from washing out when things were getting tough. He helped me to understand that life isn’t about winning every time; it’s about getting up one more time than you fall down. He was proud to play a role in helping the people of Cera get back on their feet.

  “I think it fitting that my old friend will rest here, in this place of honor, surrounded by the people that he helped. On his behalf, I thank the people of Cera for this kindness.” Harry gave the official a curt nod and a swell of somber orchestral music flared up.

  The party filed out into the smoky sunlight.

  Thousands of Cerrans stood there, amidst piles of rubble.

  The crew piled into the armored vehicle that had brought them to the mausoleum and they moved off towards the plant where the Völund was sitting, ready for departure.

  The crowds quickly thinned out and they made good time. Tommy climbed up to open a roof hatch and he watched the devastated city roll past. As they arrived at the power facility, he could see a crowd had gathered here as well. Enough public video screens had survived to inform the locals that a ship had landed here. Suitcases? He looked up at the ship. They want us to take them off world? A thin cordon of civil defense officers held the crowd back far enough to allow the armored car to pull up to the boarding ramp.

  Tommy took a close look at the crowd as the heavy vehicle lowered itself down to the ground. Sprinkled among the crowd were several dozen Cerrans with masks or bandannas obscuring their faces. As he watched, one of them threw a rock, striking a civil defenseman on the side of the head. He staggered from the line and the crowd surged through the new opening.

  Tommy watched in horror as the shooting began. The armored vehicle lifted up on its suspensors and the driver headed straight for the Völund’s massive boarding ramp, rolling over anyone who got in their way. They came to a stop inside the cavernous ore bay and everyone exited the vehicle. They moved to the port side of the large room.

  Harry counted heads as the heavy car turned about neatly on its suspensor field and headed back down the ramp. Ken Ferrick and Terry Coleman stood at opposite sides of the top of the ramp, their weapons trained down towards the crowd. Tommy didn’t know if they had opened fire or not. It hardly seemed to matter anymore.

  The road to hell, he thought, watching a bloodied doll slide down the closing ramp to stop by his feet, is paved with good intentions.

  The Völund

  En route to Khola

  “Say that again?” Harry had set his tray down and turned to face Bernie. “It’s just that I’m not sure I heard you right just now. It kind of sounded like we should have taken the cargo and scurried back to Earth.”

  All conversation in the dining area died out and faces turned toward the two men.

  Bernie was taken aback, but he wasn’t giving up on his point. “All I’m saying is that we delivered a cargo worth more than eighty-four billion dollars to a customer that probably won’t be able to pay for it.” He spared a quick glance over at the tables but didn’t see any support there. “If we’re going to piss Kobrak off anyway, we would have done better to just take the merchandise and head for home.”

  He drew himself up and thrust out his chin at Harry. “What do you think Ed will say when he hears how we lost a business partner and a load of pure profit all in one day?”

  “I think I can answer that.” Mike pushed his tray away. All of the faces turned from the confrontation to the, ordinarily quiet, physicist. Keira grinned at her husband.

  “Dr. Willsen, you spent the last ten years at the Mauna Kea facility.” Bernie spoke as if to a wayward child. “My office is down the hall from Ed’s.”

  “Down the hall and five flights of stairs, as I recall.” Mike smiled pleasantly. “I’ll spare you the verbal jousting and just tell you that my father is one of Ed’s oldest friends. They started Red Flag together and, when dad decided he was rich enough, he sold his interest to Ed.”

  There was a murmur of surprise from the rest of the crew. Mike gave it a few seconds to die out.

  “I don’t trade on my relationship with Ed. He made it clear when he hired me that it was time to sink or swim. The rest of you know what he’s like; if I screw up, he’ll fire me like any other employee.” He looked back up at Bernie. “I grew up around the man and I know him – really know him. If we came back with an empty hold because we saved a planet from falling back into the Stone Age, he’d chalk it up to good will and send us right back out again.”

  “Don’t you realize how much money we’re talking about here?” Bernie stammered. “We just gave away…”

  “Eighty-four billion, yeah, I know.” Mike remained calm. “It’s roughly twice the gross revenue of our company, but it’s worth far less to Kobrak. He pretty much just attaches a few adjustable gasbags to a harvesting platform and fires up the separators. We can make good his losses and still have enough left to take home a few billion in profits.”

  “Screw Ed.” Everyone turned to look at Kale with strained tolerance as they waited for him to finish the mouthful of bagel he was chewing on. “Ed isn’t here, is he?” He poked his thumb against his chest. “We are, and we have a deal with Kobrak. Man like that – he doesn’t stay in business on a place like Khola unless his word is good.”

  Tommy was frowning at the mercenary. Did he just refer to Kobrak as a man?

  Kale stabbed a finger at Bernie. “What you don’t understand is that we weren’t just carrying his cargo; we were carrying his reputation. Without that, he’s a dead man. Let’s see you find another fringe miner willing to deal with us after you get him killed off.” He finished the last of his coffee and got up from the bench. “Hell, didn’t they teach you to take a long-term view at that fancy school of yours?”

  Kale grabbed a handful of dried fruit packets as he dropped his tray in the cleaner. “Don’t know why we’re even having this conversation. Waste of goddamn time.” He stalked off to the aft companionway.

  The rest remained silent as they watched Kale turn the corner to the aft cabins.

  “Did that actually happen?” Tommy was still staring down the empty corridor.

  “You mean, did Kale just defend an alien and then school Bernie on business strategy?” Mike looked down at his tray, picking up a fork and letting it go. “Huh!” he grunted as the fork clattered down onto his plate. “At least gravity still exists.”

  The Ormen

  Three hours travel from Cera

  Caul’s retinal interface op
ened. A recording from one of the rearguard scouts showed the Völund moving out of Cerran orbit until, suddenly, it distorted and blinked out of sight. A heading projection appeared on the empty view of Cerran space. Back to Khola? Whatever the destination, the agreement from the Althing was that they would investigate this mysterious ship. No further debate was needed. “Lothbrok!”

  “Sire?” Lothbrok Kleykir, one of Caul’s infantry commanders, was the security officer for the next twelve hours. He looked up from his console, awaiting instructions.

  “Are the captains still aboard or have they all taken shuttle for their own ships?”

  Lothbrok looked back down to his screen. “All but three have left already, my lord. Do you wish me to recall them?”

  “No. Send a message to the fleet. Our quarry is on the move. We leave for Khola in five hours. Wait for two hours and then recall the scouts.”

  The Völund

  In orbit around Khola

  “Then make them understand, dammit!” Harry turned back to Keira. “We’ll likely be loading within the next few hours so make sure you double check every connection, every valve. I don’t want us hanging around here any longer than we need to.”

  “Orbital Control, this is the Völund, I say again, Cera has been attacked by a race of large aliens, similar to the ones in your Apokalyptii legends. They may still be in this region. Can you connect me to someone in your government?” Tommy clenched his fists. The operator from Orbital Control was frustratingly complacent.

  “Völund, this channel is for orbital coordination only, please stand by.”

  After a few seconds a new voice began to speak. “You have reached Civil Defense. Please state the nature of the disaster.”

  About bloody time! “Your planet is in danger of being invaded.” He let his hands unclench a fraction.