Prophet of ConFree (The Prophet of ConFree)

by Marshall S. Thomas

  The Professor was shown to an interview table where he and other info types were to seek information on the Brothers in Blood and their operation. The Prof set up shop there but immediately walked to one side of the warehouse and went from one girl to the other, just looking at each one briefly.

  There were a whole lot of girls – it looked like close to a hundred. They ranged from subteens to older girls in their twenties, but most appeared to be teens. They were of all races and nationalities, and they were all dirty, bruised, and weary, with stringy unwashed hair. They were mostly clad in dirty blouses and ratty shorts. They looked like they could just barely drag themselves around. Some of them clung to each other for support. Many were crying, and all were starving. They attacked the snack tables and fought over the food and guzzled the icy water while shivering, perhaps in terror. The medics put out an emergency call for more substantial rations. It was pitiful just looking at them.

  The Prof examined every one of them. He showed each one a holo of his daughter. Nobody knew her. When he was through doing that, he sat at his table and interviewed as many as he could, while the other info types were doing the same. The holo of his daughter was at his side.

  I stood behind him while he worked. We didn’t need a bad guy this time, but I stood there anyway.

  "So – Lucy Waldemark. When and where were you taken?" he asked. A skinny teen girl sat before him, hollow cheeked, sunken green eyes, filthy brown hair. She was sipping from a water bottle and sharing it with a second girl, name of Janie, a few years younger, who was with her because she wouldn’t let go of Lucy Waldemark's left arm. Janie held tight with both hands, twitching, tears streaming. The medics had tried to separate them but gave it up when Janie became hysterical. Janie was maybe fourteen, dark haired, skeletal, dirty and battered. A third girl showed up and began feeding Janie some snacks from the refreshment table because Janie wouldn't let go of Lucy Waldemark to get her snacks. I had to turn away for a bit when I saw that.

  "I'm from Wintergreen," Waldemark said. "They took me – a hundred years ago. Yes, it seems like it was a hundred years ago. I guess it was only two years or so – but I've lost track of time here." She gave her companion another long drink of water, and Janie wearily rested her head in Lucy's lap.

  "I was just a little girl when they took me. But I'm not a little girl now. I'm a very experienced rape victim. That's my job. That's what I do. That's all I do, here. Day and night. I'm a filthy, diseased rape victim. I used to pray they would sell me – to anyone else. But they didn't."

  "Have you ever seen this girl? She was eleven when this holo was taken. She'd be thirteen now."

  "No. I'm sorry. How many of these slavers did you kill?"

  "Well – we don't have a final count yet, but we killed most all of them."

  "You have to kill any survivors as well. They're not human. They're dangerous subhumans. You have to kill them all. Otherwise they will keep doing what they've been doing. They like it, and they're not going to stop until you shoot them right in the head."

  Δ

  I didn't want to do it, but I knew I had to tell the Prof. It was very late. He was still in the warehouse compiling his reports although most of the girls had been evaced to the Wasp by then.

  "Professor. Some of the girls were killed during the raid. There were some last-moment changes in position that the eyemotes missed and some girls were taken to sites that had been categorized as captive free. They've got seven bodies they're about to evac to the Wasp. Would you like to see them?"

  The Professor stood up without a word. He followed me to the temporary morgue the medics had set up for the dead girls. They were all on airglide stretchers, grounded, lined up in a row, seven spotless white body bags zipped and closed.

  "I have to see the faces," Prof told the on-duty medics. They zipped the bags down to reveal the faces.

  I forced myself to look. Some of the bodies were very badly damaged, but the medics had attempted to restore a little dignity to the corpses. They had carefully closed the eyes, and covered face damage with medpads. Most of the faces were identifiable.

  "Do you have names yet?" the Professor asked.

  "Sorry, no sir. We've taken genetic samples and we're hopeful all will be eventually ID'd."

  Seven dead girls. Teens. They weren't just bodies. Pale bluish flesh, cold and dead and gone. Temples, where souls once lived – now empty. But I could still see them, gone or not. They were individuals. Each one was different. Look 'em in the face! I could see them in my mind's eye, at a carefree party, chatting with each other, gossiping about whoever wasn't there, talking about boys. Doing what teenage girls were supposed to be doing. They didn't belong here, at the end of creation, in some Gassies hellhole, being gang-raped by subhumans. And then being cut down by their rescuers, by sheer chance – friendly fire, right. There was no such thing as friendly fire.

  It was just like lava, flowing in my veins. I wasn't the same any more, I realized. It wasn't Richard Rains looking down at those poor ghosts. He was long gone by then – a very distant memory of some shallow kid who never had an original thought in his life. I was someone very different now. That was a fact. I didn't know if it was good or bad. But it was a fact.

  Chapter 7

  The Demon in the Cube

  "Gentleman – let us begin," the Director of ConFree said. The Council of Ministers was all there, sitting along the wide oblong table that stretched out from the Director's conference desk. Everyone knew that whatever proposals or decisions were made at this meeting would be passed along to the ConFree Council for approval. The Director paused, looking over the attendees as if to ensure they were all present. She was strikingly beautiful with her silky auburn hair, golden brown skin and mysterious Assidic eyes, but the attendees respected her not for her beauty but for her high intelligence, personal courage and unshakable resolve. Antara Tarantos-Hannah – Tara for short – was both insightful and decisive. It was a rare combination.

  "We have recently received another message from the Omni Horde. Or government, or whatever term you may choose," she said. "There are no words attached to the message. It consists entirely of visual images, but these images are perfectly clear, and we have to decide how to respond." She paused again, glaring at everyone. "Our response may determine whether or not ConFree survives or perishes. Indeed, it may determine whether or not mankind survives or perishes. So we've got to get it right. No pressure, of course. Let's look at the message." She jabbed at a control on her desk and the great picture window turned dark and one wall lit up with a huge d-screen. It flickered briefly and then the images appeared.

  It showed a panoramic view of what appeared to be a great city or town, under a pale green sky. The buildings were all low-rise, seemingly constructed of a silvery crystalline substance, quite beautiful, soft pink facets reflecting the sun. Omni hives. Pale white trees with dark palms rose above the structures, all over town, giving a calm, pleasing effect. A greenish-white star glittered overhead, behind puffy white clouds. Off to one side, some white towers could be seen, and a slender aircraft was gracefully slicing across the sky. Down on the pathways between the buildings the tall figures of Omnis could be seen, walking – minding their own business.

  Suddenly there was something wrong with the sky. What was it – little dark specks, filling the sky. As they entered the atmosphere each dot left a white streak behind it, hundreds of vapor trails falling leisurely down, slowly, slowly approaching the surface. Many, many of them.

  When they hit, the blinding flashes lit up everything, blotting out the view with a glaring burning white infinity, again and again and again, each new hit flashing and burning, the image shaking as if the image source was being battered. The screen continued erupting, new hits, again and again and again. Nothing could be seen except a continuing, blinding series of flashes. This continued for some time.

  As the shower of explosions finally ceased, the screen registered some new images. The crystalline city was no l
onger there. A vast pile of glowing rubble was burning fiercely, and great swirls of greasy black smoke clouds shot skywards, laced with orange flames. The sky was now shot through with flaming black clouds. The distant white towers were gone.

  Then more activity could be seen above – in the sky. A distant fleet of saucer-shaped craft appeared, approaching the site of the disaster. They cruised slowly overhead, as if observing the target. There were many of them – twenty, thirty, more – eventually it appeared there must have been hundreds of them. Metallic saucers, reflecting faint colors. Glowing greenish with some kind of shielding. Wobbling slightly in flight.

  At first they were almost in formation. Then they scattered abruptly, moving almost faster than the eye could see. Some other aircraft appeared – Omni interceptors, darkish darts, corkscrewing through the sky, bravely going after the saucers, unleashing a torrent of antimat missiles. But it appeared the saucers moved too fast. In moments the Omni ships were erupting, burning, careening downwards trailing flames, violently hitting the surface and blasting apart, the saucers dancing after them as if in celebration. Soon the O ships were all down and the saucers resumed their formations. More saucers appeared – a lot more. They came very close to the rubble field, slowing down.

  Then they began landing. Openings appeared in the saucers and squat figures in dark A-suits exited the saucers and began moving out to explore their new world. Each creature was encased in a flickering green sheen. They stalked through the rubble, searching for life. In a few instances, they found wounded O's that were still alive. They immediately blasted them to bits with what appeared to be directed energy weapons that shot out a burst of plasma and then blew the target apart. Long columns of aliens were leaving their saucers and taking possession of the rubble pile that had once been a peaceful home of another race.

  The scene changed. Now the d-screen focused on a glowing green display that appeared to be some kind of monitor. It was overlaid with faint white grid lines. Suddenly it began registering something. Little green blips started appearing. Then more of them. Then even more. Finally hundreds of them, filling the screen. There was no information accompanying this display but somehow it was even more terrifying that way.

  "That's it, gentlemen," the Director said. "There's more, but this will do for our purposes." The wall screen faded away. The picture window brightened, flashing light over the assembly. "Dragon, your techs have examined these images. Please summarize the findings."

  The Director of the ConFree Legion didn't use notes. "These images are very valuable for what they reveal to us about the attackers," he began. "The saucer-shaped craft are alien spacecraft. They're from another universe and that universe contains some dimensions that our universe does not. These starships do not use artificial wormholes to traverse the vac like we do, but they accomplish the same thing with their interdimensional technology. They will suddenly appear in normal vac –in this universe – after the voyage from their universe. And the voyage did not include wormholes – at least not as we know them. That's what that last image showed us – an Omni defense sector monitor showing these enemy ships seemingly just appearing out of nowhere, without any associated star tracks. Fleetcom is now calling these craft IDAG saucers – for interdimensional antigrav ships.

  "All right, what does it mean?" Dragon continued. "The creatures inside these ships are from another universe – that's what it means. They're from some place we cannot go, but they can leave there and show up here. They appear to have no difficulties here – in our universe – although we need more info on that. The reason we cannot enter that universe is that it has some extra dimensions in it – at least one. Our scientists call it Dimension X. I get the impression that they're not exactly sure where or what this dimension is, or even where the bubble universe is, but they assure me that it is quite real.

  "These creatures have appeared in our universe – and in our galaxy – before, but it was in prehistoric times, before we had space flight. At that time there were other aliens, evidently from their universe as well, that also penetrated our universe. Several different types of aliens settled in our galaxy. But then they departed – we don't know why.

  "Our problem is they are here. They're back, and we've got to decide what to do about it. These creatures were – in Earth's distant past – sometimes called devils, or beasts, or demons. From examining the images we just saw, they are smaller than we are, although somewhat squat and maybe strong. A few images allowed us to glimpse the D's head, inside the helmet. They have a strange flat nose or muzzle, and a small mouth with sharp teeth. Their eyes are set in the sides of their heads. It looks like they have large ears but we cannot see that well inside the helmets. We can assume high intelligence because of their capabilities. Their armor is shielded with a force field that accompanies them wherever they go. Their individual directed energy weapon produces a plasma burst and an explosive blast. We've seen how effective their antimat missiles are. They apparently have a whole lot of them and are not reluctant to use them. We've also seen how effective their IDAG saucers are in air to air combat, again using antimat technology.

  "So – we're starting to call them Demons, in the Legion. We're not afraid of them, but they've evidently invaded at least one Omni planet, so we'd better get ready for them to attempt doing the same to us."

  "Thank you, Dragon," Tara said. "That was most instructive. Yes, they're here. That is the problem. They have appeared in Omni vac and as you all know by now, they have also appeared in the Gulf. They seem to be doing recon runs in the Gulf – just as they previously did recon runs in Omni vac. All right, discussion. I'd like to know why they are here. Any ideas?"

  The Minister for War responded. "How can we know? Suddenly they appear, after all this time. How can we know?"

  "Something prompted it," Tara said.

  "Well, that's a safe assumption," the Minister for War replied.

  "Yes, we can start with safe assumptions and build on them. What prompts the movement of peoples – or races?"

  "Migration is often prompted by famine, disease, natural disasters, poor economic conditions, and-or a promising destination," the Minister for Economy said.

  "Or being attacked by other peoples or races, being chased away from their homes," the Director of Galactic Information added. He was a strikingly singular individual, very pale, with white-blond hair and hot pink eyes.

  "Exactly," Tara replied. "All that – or a combination. Look at Earth's history. The Roman Empire collapsed when they were attacked by fierce barbarians who were fleeing even fiercer barbarians. There is a reason why these creatures are here. We don't know the reason or reasons yet, but let's keep it in mind. It's the underlying reason. That's extremely important."

  "So how can we counter their attacks, if there are no startracks to warn us? They just suddenly appear, boom. Out of nowhere," the Minister for Science said.

  "We need to detect vulnerabilities in their spacecraft. In their propulsion systems, in this interdimensional or interuniverse drive. In their shielding. That's the first thing. Nothing is invulnerable. We need to know more," Tara said.

  "This is now our top priority," the Minister for Science said. "If there is a vulnerability, we'll find it, and exploit it."

  "We must begin immediate preparations to counter a full-fledged attack – like the one we just observed," the Director of ConFree declared.

  "How can we do that?" the Interior Minister asked. "We don't know how to counter them yet."

  "Yes – but the peoples of ConFree must be protected from an attack like the one we just saw. We must begin now."

  "How?" somebody asked.

  "We're going to need strategic underground antimat shelters for all ConFree nationals, as soon as they can be built. They must fully protect our people from unexpected attacks from these foul creatures. All cities, all towns, all installations in ConFree, on every world, must be prepared to evacuate their peoples into these shelters, as soon as an attack comes, or appears
imminent. This will be our first reaction to this coming plague. We must protect our people. Treasury – Economy – can we do this? Immediately?"

  "Certainly," the Treasury Minister said. "We have huge surpluses. This will become our number one expense. If you want to do every town, every city, every world, it will be a colossal expense, but we can do it. A national emergency. We can certainly do it. Even if we run out of money, we’ll do it."

  "Economy? Any problems?"

  "We will do whatever must be done to protect our peoples."

  "Interior? We need immediate plans for these shelters. They must be first-class shelters. No short cuts. "

  "Consider it done."

  "I'll consider it done when it's done. We may not have to follow through fully if we can uncover some weaknesses in these creatures that we can exploit. But if we don't, the shelters must be there for our people. Fleetcom? Get to work on strategic planning to counter these attacks if they happen next week or next month. "

  "Will do!"

  "What about the O's?" the Director of the ConFree Legion asked.

  "What about them?" Tara responded.

  "They've given us very important information. Aren't they asking for help?"

  "Do we know enough yet to be able to help them?"

  "No."

  "That's right. We don't even know enough to be able to help ourselves. And our duty is to the people of ConFree – not to the O's."

  "I'm no fan of the O's," Dragon said. "But we may need allies. Even if they hate us. And we hate them. Let's just keep it in mind."

  "This O planet – it's orbiting around the Star Traunair. That's 6,500 light years from us. I don't – ever – plan on sending any forces there – Fleetcom or Legion. We need all our strength right here. The Gulf is as far as we're going to go."