by Richard Fox
“Oops,” Egan said over the IR.
“I can’t tell if you’re that good, or that bad, of a pilot to pull off that oops,” Hale said.
“Probably a bit of both, sir. Touchdown in thirty seconds.”
“Marines, get to your assigned transport and get these people loaded up,” Hale said.
The shuttle settled against the ground and Hale ran down the ramp. He saw Idadu standing in front of the meditation room holding a giant blue flag over his head. A group of older villagers stood behind Idadu, each holding a different colored flag. Hale ran over to them.
“Everyone ready to go?” Hale asked.
“Our rapture awaits!” Idadu waved his flag above his head and walked to the waiting shuttle, Hale at his side. “Hale, what are you going to tell them once we’re on this Breitenfeld of yours?” Idadu asked quietly.
A square of villagers broke off in orderly columns and followed Idadu with parade ground precision.
“We’ll start with the truth, I guess,” Hale said.
“They all think we’re going to the temple to be one with Mentiq,” Idadu said. “We aren’t a violent people, but I think some will get angry enough to figure out how to rip me to pieces once the truth comes to light.” He gave Hale a pat on the shoulder. “They’re all yours after that.”
“Wait, what? Me?”
“Yes, I told them that the great high priest Hale brought this message to us. Which you did.” Idadu stopped at the edge of the ramp and looked inside. “How long I’ve dreamed of this moment…the final destination isn’t quite what I imagined.”
Idadu swung the flag from side to side.
“Inside, blue group, everyone inside!”
Hale stood impassively as villagers with blue strips of cloth wrapped around their heads hurried up the ramp.
The other transports landed nearby. An elder with a flag ran to each as their ramps hit the ground and groups of villagers moved to the waving flag matching the color they’d been sorted into before Hale arrived. Marines ran to the shuttles and helped herd the villagers into the waiting shuttles.
Hale had been part of more than one emergency evacuation, and this one was more orderly than most airports he’d ever been to.
“Idadu, how did you get this so organized so fast?” Hale asked.
“We are bred for our intelligence and obedience, young one. Were you expecting something with more screaming and terror?”
“A bit, yeah,” Hale said. The last villagers onto the first transport carried baskets full of glowing crystals. Hale gave Idadu a quizzical glance.
“The library from our college,” Idadu said, “seemed a shame to let all that knowledge go to waste.” He gave a kind wave to a small child as she skipped up the ramp with her parents, the last of the blue group.
“Sir, I’m maxed out on personnel,” Egan said. “Permission to button up?”
“Go. I’m on the last shuttle out,” Hale said.
“I won’t go far, got to keep line of sight with the rest of the shuttles to keep them slaved,” Egan said. The ramp closed and the shuttle lifted into the air, blowing a cloud of dust around Hale.
As the dust settled, Hale saw a single villager kneeling next to the damaged statue, holding the broken head. The villager didn’t wear a headband.
Hale ran over. “Miss, which shuttle are you—”
Lilith looked up at Hale, tears streaming down her face.
“It was a lie,” she said. She rolled the statue’s head up and looked inside the hollow skull. “They told me this statue was solid gold. Another lie, just like everything about my home, my purpose, my life.”
She tossed the head into the dust.
“What do you really have waiting for us on your ship? Is Earth really there or is this all just another elaborate hoax for me and my people?” she asked.
“Earth is real. I promise. Life will be different there, but it has to be better than what’s waiting for you once the Toth sort themselves out,” Hale said.
“Lilly!” Yeshua called out. The boy, wearing a black bandana, ran over and nearly knocked her to the ground with a bear hug.
“They said you went to the temple. What’s it like?” Yeshua asked.
Lilith pushed a tuft of hair away from the boy’s face. She opened her mouth to answer, then frowned.
“I’ll go with you on the shuttle. We’ll see it together,” she said. She stood up and led her brother away by the hand.
Hale watched as the final shuttles filled up. The last one, white flag and headbands, was half-full. Hale walked over to the golden head lying in the dirt, raised his boot, and slammed it into Mentiq’s face.
****
Toth dagger fighters closed in on the Iron Hearts. Six fighters were several minutes ahead of a mass of several dozen more Toth ships racing toward them.
Elias painted target icons on the nearest ships for the other Iron Hearts.
“You fly—I’ll shoot,” Elias said. “Soldiers, scatter shot on nearest target. My lead.” Elias let off four shots. Gauss cannons flashed from Bodel and Kallen.
The Toth fighter jinked to the side to dodge Elias’ shots, but a bullet clipped the engine and sent the fighter into a corkscrew before exploding.
“Mine,” Bodel said.
“Piss off with your ‘mine’ and start shooting!” Kallen shouted.
The five remaining Toth fighters broke formation and loosed burning white lances of energy through space. Elias lined up a perfect shot but had it ruined when Manfred banked to the side. A Toth energy blast seared past Elias’ helm.
“Sorry!” Manfred yelled.
“Doing great, kid.” Elias let off a chain of shots that forced a dagger ship to break off an attack run on Kallen and her ride.
“Splash two!” Durand announced. “Manfred, you’ve got two on you. Go high and tight!”
“What does that—” Elias didn’t get to finish before Manfred raised his ship’s nose and gunned the engines. The sudden acceleration slammed Elias against the mag lock holding him to the fighter. Sympathetic pain burned through his left shoulder as the strain threatened to tear his suit’s arm out of the socket.
A Toth ship cut across Manfred’s nose and the Dotok twisted his ship to the side, whipping Elias around like a rag doll. Durand zipped past Elias, her gauss cannons blazing.
“Nine o’clock! Nine o’clock!” Manfred screamed.
Elias looked over and saw another Toth fighter diving toward them. He fired his firearm cannons on full auto. Bullets ripped into the Toth as it powered its energy cannons. The fighter exploded in a gout of white flame, overloading the buffers on Elias’ helm.
He switched to his IR cameras…and saw a hunk of the Toth ship heading right for them. Elias grabbed Manfred’s Eagle with both arms and fired his jet pack. The two went tumbling end over end through space—a split second before the wreckage would have smashed them to bits.
Elias heard the Dotok yelling in his own language as the pilot struggled to regain control.
“Yes, you’re welcome,” Elias said.
“We’re clear,” Durand said. “At least for a few more minutes.”
Elias’ UI filled with target icons as the next wave of Toth fighters approached.
****
Valdar and Ericson hunched over the tactical holo tank, watching as the Toth ships tore each other apart. Red icons of more Toth fighters broke off from the scrum. A dashed line of their projected course traced to Mentiq’s city, then angled over the planet’s surface and intersected with the rendezvous point between the Breitenfeld and the shuttles full of escapees.
Valdar traced lines in the holo tank from the Breitenfeld’s current position to the rendezvous point and let out a curse.
“We turn around for the Iron Hearts and we lose the shuttles,” Ericson said. “We maintain course and we’ll lose the Iron Hearts.”
Valdar hated this kind of battlefield math. The armor soldiers and his best pilots against the lives of his godson and hundred
s of civilians. As the ship’s captain, the choice was his alone.
“Conn,” Valdar said, looking away from the holo to his bridge officers, “maintain course.”
“Sir, the Iron Hearts are some of the last few armor soldiers Earth has left.” Ericson’s words were a firm whisper, meant only for Valdar and not the crew. “There are no more in the pipeline. Ibarra can’t make proccies that can wear the suits. You have—”
“We’re being hailed!” Ensign Erdahl called out. “It’s coming from Nibiru and they’re asking for the captain.”
“No harm in talking,” Valdar said. “Send it to me.”
A Toth overlord appeared on Valdar’s forearm screen, Mentiq’s wrecked throne room in the background.
“Valdar. Thief ship Breit-en-feld. I am Ranik, Chair of the Tellani Corporation. I wish to barter. Consider it an honor, meat,” Ranik said.
“Commander Utrecht, lay guns on the city. Fire on my mark,” Valdar said.
“Aye aye, Skipper!” Utrecht yelled, loud enough for Ranik to hear through Valdar’s link to her.
“Wait!” Ranik’s nerve endings twisted in frustration. “Mentiq’s death has left a power vacuum, and I have seized a significant amount of leverage over the other overlords. The fighters closing on your ships are doing so under my order. I will pull them back and let you escape, but there’s something you must do for me.”
Valdar held up a hand to Utrecht.
“I’m listening,” Valdar said.
“There are several shuttles leaving the city as we speak. Each contains significant members of my rival’s corporate leadership. Destroy them. Their death by human hands will significantly lower my acquisition costs when it comes time to claim their assets.” The brain inside Ranik’s tank floated toward the glass in anticipation.
“You want me to do your dirty work for you,” Valdar said.
“I care for results, not labels. My fighters will reach you very soon, meat. Make your decision.”
Valdar glanced up at the tactical plot. The mass of Toth fighters bore down on the Iron Hearts and Durand’s fighters.
“Pull your fighters back. Now. Then we have a deal,” Valdar said.
“Excellent.” Ranik’s tentacles twitched and the Toth fighters slowed. “I’ll keep them close. They’ll return once you’ve delivered.”
“And I will keep my guns aimed at the palace until they’re gone,” Valdar said.
“As the eventual head of the Toth Conglomerate, I hope this is the last transaction between your people and mine.” Ranik backed away from the camera.
“It had better be, for your sake.” Valdar made a slashing motion across his neck and Ranik vanished. “Guns, are we tracking those transports it mentioned?”
The holo zoomed in toward the city. Dozens of shuttles, many bedecked in jewels and elaborate designs, rose through the atmosphere.
“Set for airburst, sir?” Utrecht asked. “I’ve got VT rounds loaded in the dorsal turret.”
“Yes. If we trigger a few earthquakes or a tidal wave, that might void the agreement. You may fire when ready.” Valdar zoomed out. The Toth fighters had pulled back farther but were still a threat.
“XO,” Valdar kept his eyes on the holo as he addressed Ericson, “am I wrong?”
“I’m with you, sir,” she said. “It solves our immediate problem. But long term? We could take out all the Toth leadership right now, end any future threat from them. We leave Ranik in charge and years from now we might look back and regret that we didn’t kill them all when we had the chance.”
“The dead can never come back. I’m not going to choose someone’s certain death over what might happen in the future,” Valdar said.
The deck shook as the main guns fired.
“Fifteen seconds to impact,” Utrecht said.
Valdar watched a flurry of rounds close on a cluster of shuttles crossing into the upper atmosphere. The variable time fuses attached to the gauss shells counted down to zero and exploded in the midst of the escaping Toth overlords. Pressure waves slapped the shuttles aside and tore them to pieces. The shuttle icons dipped back toward the surface on whatever course gravity demanded.
“Fire again, sir?” Utrecht asked.
“Not yet, wait and see if anything else tries to make a break for it.” Valdar let out a long breath. He’d save the evacuees and the Iron Hearts, but something in his gut told him he’d made a mistake.
****
Manfred’s Eagle wobbled as it entered the Breitenfeld’s flight deck. Flying was hard enough with Elias attached to the fighter; landing proved especially tricky.
A deck crewman held two glowing orange cones over his head, attempting without much success to guide Manfred to a landing he could walk away from.
Elias detached his hold on the fighter and powered up his jet pack for a brief moment. The armor somersaulted over the nose of the Eagle and slid to a stop. Manfred set down hard a second later.
“Oye! Get that ship clear of the runway!” MacDougall yelled and waved his arms from the side of deck. “We’ve got a bunch of fat asses coming through!”
Elias walked over to Manfred’s Eagle and bent over to look inside the cockpit. The Dotok pilot had his helmet off. Sweat soaked through his thick strands of hair and poured down his face. The pilot’s hands shook so hard he couldn’t activate the ship’s shut-down sequence.
Elias tapped on the canopy with his massive knuckles.
Manfred’s head snapped up and he stared at Elias with wide eyes.
“Good job, kid,” Elias said. “You’ll do even better next time.”
“Next time!” came through the canopy. “What next time?”
CHAPTER 22
Standish stood on his shuttle’s ramp, his hands up to keep the curious villagers away from it as the shuttle approached the Breitenfeld. Being in a slaved shuttle flying on autopilot was nerve-wracking. If anything went wrong, he’d have to somehow figure out how to save the day, and flying alien ships set up to be controlled by something with four arms wasn’t something he could pick up on the fly.
He’d spent the trip in the cargo bay with the civilians, answering the myriad of questions with exaggerated nods and feigned deafness.
As if he didn’t have enough to worry about.
+We are in the Breitenfeld’s hangar.+
“Stop giving me the play-by-play,” he whispered. “Just stay quiet. Maybe I can convince the docs that I’m really crazy and I’ll get discharged. Yeah, there we go. Silver lining.”
+The shuttle will not stop, but it will slow.+
The ramp lowered and Standish wobbled as his balance faltered. The ship’s hangar opened around him, the deck moving beneath his feet as the shuttle continued at the speed of a leisurely walk.
“Off!” Chief MacDougall and a trio of deckhands ran up to the side of the ramp. “Every swinging tallywhacker needs off that rust bucket right goddamn now ’fore yer a Dutchman!”
“What did he say?” a villager with a green headband asked Standish.
“Buddy, even I don’t know what the hell chief’s talking about half the time.” Standish grabbed the man and pushed him toward the end of the ramp. A deckhand pulled the man off and pointed him to a throng of villagers waiting on the flanks of the flight deck.
“All right, my greenies,” Standish said, raising his arms, “everyone off! Hurry, hurry!”
Standish kept a head count going as the civilians filed past him and made the ungraceful transition from the moving shuttle to the still deck.
“Wait a minute,” a heavyset man said once he could look around the deck. “This isn’t the tem—”
Standish shoved him off the ramp.
“Keep moving, people. Next slowpoke gets a kick in the rear.” Standish motioned the civilians onward. He recognized one of the serving girls from the previous night as she came closer, following behind a scowling older man that looked like her father.
“Hey baby, how you doing?” The girl giggled at him. “We’ll talk
later. Watch your step.”
The last villager tripped as he got off the ramp, but a deckhand managed to catch him.
“Seventy-one,” Standish said. “Good to go.”
+That was seventy. There is a juvenile in the cockpit.+
“What, are you sure?” Standish asked.
“Who’re you jabbering at?” MacDougall asked him.
+I am a highly advanced artificial intelligence. You think I am unable to process simple addition? This craft will exit the Breitenfeld’s hangar in two hundred thirty-seven seconds. I suggest you retrieve the child now.+
“Balls…” Standish ran back into the shuttle, chased by a slew of invectives from MacDougall. He climbed into the cockpit and found a little girl no more than five years old standing on top of the control panels, her face pressed against the glass. The end of the hangar loomed ahead of them.
“You don’t have any other little friends in here, do you?” Standish asked.
The little girl looked over her shoulder. “Ma-ma and Pa-pa went to the temple last year. I want to see them.”
Standish’s hand balled into fists. He wished he could have been there the moment Mentiq died.
“Come on, princess.” Standish picked the girl up and carried her on his hip. He dropped down the wide-ladder well and the girl squealed in delight. He ran to the end of the cargo bay and jumped off the ramp, skidding to a stop mere feet from the force field separating the flight deck from the void beyond.
“Ooo, pretty!” The girl reached for the force field and Standish turned away before she could touch it.
“Not so fast,” Standish said. He watched as their shuttle drifted into space. It veered off course and started tumbling end over end, joining two other out-of-control shuttles. The Toth vessels were large, their technology little better than what the Breitenfeld had aboard and not worth keeping around to clutter the flight deck.
One of the Chinese pilots from Durand’s squadron clapped her hands and held her arms out to the little girl.
“What happened to her face?” the girl asked.
