Prophet of ConFree (The Prophet of ConFree)

by Marshall S. Thomas

  "Nitro, Doggie. We…"

  "Doggie, Prophet! We report enemy IDAG saucer craft rising from the inside of the hill, four five six seven – more! We now have over six hundred D's on foot and twelve, thirteen, fourteen, see the count – plenty of saucers. We report a flank attack heading for your zero, acknowledge, over."

  "Prophet, Nitro, Doggie. Acknowledge your report, D's and saucers headed our way. Get the hell out of there or you will be caught in our reaction, hightail it out of there, now!"

  "Received," I said. Easy for him to say. How was I to move, without Blackie and me both getting blasted by the D's? I watched the march in fascination. It was just like my dream except in my dream, their shields were up. And in my dream, they also had a column of captive human females.

  "Get moving, Prophet," Arie said. "I'll cover you in case they notice. When you get to the tree line, turn and cover me."

  "Twelve, Arie. We move at the same time – get away as fast as we can. Do it!"

  We ran for the tree line. I released my grip on Blackies collar and he shot out ahead of me, looking back every once in awhile to ensure I was still there. Once inside the forest, I turned and observed the D column. Still marching. Blackie was by my side, glaring at the D's.

  "Arie, are you here?"

  "Yeah, I made it. Damn! You got Blackie?"

  "Yeah."

  "Oh crap! Look at that!"

  Four D's had dropped out of the march, and were headed for us. Now that was a scary sight.

  "Into the forest, Arie! Then we ambush. Go!" We charged further into the trees. I chose a heavily wooded site with no suspicious features, and we set up to catch them in a cross fire. Blackie was by my side.

  "They're not using the shielding to avoid attracting attention from above." I said. "They probably think they’re dealing with a scout dog. Use auto xmax, Arie. No sense in hiding anymore. This place is going to go antimat soon."

  "Can you cover Blackie with your cloaking?"

  "Yes. But once the shooting starts, I've got to stop paying attention to him."

  "Tenners. This is a good site. Here they come. I'll take the two on the left, you take the other two."

  "Tenners. Blackie, sit! Stay!" I kept one hand on his leash to cover him with my cloaking. My two D's were probing carefully through the trees and brush. I centered the first D in my sights. My laser spot roamed over the D's chest, invisible to the target. "Sit, Blackie. Stay!"

  Arie fired, auto xmax. I fired as well, and target one went down in a blazing burst of x. I snapped my sight to the other one – gone! Where the hell was he? Auto x ripped past my head, bursting on the tree trunks all around me. Target 2 had activated his shielding, a flickering green glow, which made it easy to see him but my auto x burst off the shielding and ricocheted around the forest. Target 2 was coming right at me, firing auto x. I switched to canister darts and was suddenly blown off my feet as a series of auto x rounds erupted all over my armor. I struggled to get up, stunned.

  "Prophet, you are hit by x, eight hits, under repair, cloaking down, get up and aim your E, I will fire!" Honey was clear, but my mind was working very slowly. Cloaking down! The Demon stood over me, blazing with green shielding, aiming his weapon right at my faceplate, taking his time. Blackie leaped at his throat and bounced off his shielding but the force of his charge dropped the D to the ground and gave me the chance to raise my E and fire canister darts right into the D's shielding, which went down instantly. I followed up with auto x, right into his faceplate, die you bastard!

  "Rich, you all right?"

  "Let's get outta here, Arie."

  "Is Blackie all right?"

  "Good dog! Good wolf! Good Blackie! Yeah, he's fine. Let's get moving!"

  Δ

  I don't think I'll ever forget that frantic run through the forest with Armageddon antimats bursting all round as tons of ordnance fell from the skies onto the hill and the marching Demons. They called it the Battle of Demon Hill later, and it was one big, nasty chaotic fight as our airpower gave them hell and our troopers later met them face to face. It wasn't until quite awhile later that it became clear that it was a significant defeat for the D's. We lost a lot of troopers in that engagement, but the D's lost a lot more and most of their supporting saucers were blown out of the sky by our fighters and drones. Their surprise attack did not work, and they limped away, badly bloodied. When Arie and I and Blackie made it back to Delta, we joined them in the mop-up, chasing Demons through the charred forests. My A-suit was all shot up so I visited the armorers, and they slapped on more sealant and told me to get back to my unit. So I did.

  "Six and Seven, One. Report to me." Delta had just made its way to the summit of a seemingly endless range of forested hills. This one had not been antimatted and gave us a great view of the early dawn scenery so we could hide there and blast anything that moved if we decided it was something we did not approve of. It was pretty quiet, and Galinta's bloody star was rising peacefully in a clear pink sky.

  "Tenners," I replied. Doggie was just a short distance away. Arie and I wandered over there. Doggie was feeding Blackie some Legion rats.

  "Prophet and Nitro," he said, grinning at us. His visor was raised. "You're our latest heroes."

  "Blackie is the hero," I said. "If he hadn’t attacked that D, I'd be dead."

  "Well, he was already on my good guys list. Now I've got to add you and Nitro. It's getting so I haven't got anybody to yell at anymore."

  "It's all right, Doggie, you can yell at us if it makes you feel better," Arie said.

  "Well, actually I wanted to thank you. Both. For spotting and reporting a major Demon installation, and for finding and returning Blackie. I didn't know what had happened to him, and I was really worried. Turned out he was tracking you two. I guess he wanted to be where the action was."

  "He alerted on the D's before we ever saw them," I said.

  "That's my wolf!"

  "Any word on exploitation of Demon Hill?" Arie asked.

  "Both the Legion and the A's are swarming over the cavern inside the hill. There was a whole slew of destroyed saucers in there, so we've now got plenty of scorched spare parts to play with in addition to the one intact saucer that the A's have got down in the hole on Pandaravos."

  "Bees told us that Ice and Saka have both been evaced to the Crista Cluster. Do you have any updates on them?"

  "The Andrion Deep's hospital surgeons report they're both in very serious condition and both the wounds and the – well, the emergency field surgery, they call it – are so complex, delicate and advanced that they cannot handle it themselves. That's why they are being sent to the Legion Neurological and Physiological Reconstructive Recovery Hospital on Quaba."

  "That's good, right?"

  "That's very good. They'll get the best care from the finest specialists in the galaxy. Which brings me to you, Prophet. The Andrion Deep's hospital docs want to see you."

  "They want to see me! What about?"

  "Probably about that dream you had, which revealed where the Demons were hiding."

  "I've already told everybody all I know. What else do they want?"

  "They want to talk with you. Follow-up questions, maybe."

  "Why don't they come down here and talk with me?"

  "Maybe they don't want to get their shoes dirty – I don't know. Look, it's important. And you don't have any choice. Just get up there, see what they want, answer their questions, and get back here. I'm plenty short-handed already, and I need you."

  "Yes sir. I'll get back soon as I can."

  As we walked back to our positions, I was hoping the consultations would only take a day or so, but I didn't know for sure.

  "Arie."

  "Yeah."

  "While I'm gone, I want you to look after Bees."

  "Look after her? She needs looking after?"

  "Yes, she does. She's been very upset by Ice's death, miraculous recovery, and serious wounds. You know she's closer to Ice than anyone else."

  "
Yes."

  "Just take care of her. If she wants you to pray with her for Ice and Saka, do it."

  "Oh sure. I'd do that anyway."

  "Please let her know she can come to you with any problems. I don't want her to feel that she's alone."

  "Right. Are you planning to be gone long?"

  "If it was up to me I wouldn't even be going. I'll keep in touch."

  Δ

  "How do you know she was dead?" There were four of them – two males and two females – and they wore the trademark white coats. We were sitting around a little table in a consulting room. I was getting tired of answering their questions. The Andrion Deep was a spectacular ship, and I was goggle-eyed at all the facilities, but they hadn't given me any time to sightsee.

  "You asked me that before, and I answered it before," I said.

  "Please tell us again. We want to make sure we get this right," the shorthaired tomboy fem said.

  "All right. Fine. I could tell she was dead because I've seen plenty of dead people. Her eyes were open and staring into infinity – filmed over. Her skull was cracked wide open on her left side, almost split in half, and the blood was pouring out. Her whole helmet was splattered with blood. There were multiple hits, chestplate and helmet. Our medic confirmed she was dead."

  "Isn't that the same medic who later reported she was alive?" the pale-faced male asked.

  "That was after the Brights brought her back to life."

  "How do you know they brought her back to life?" Paleface continued.

  "We could tell by the heartbeat."

  "Maybe you missed the heartbeat before," the male fatso suggested.

  "We didn't miss anything. She was dead."

  "People who are dead don't generally come back to life," Streetwalker Lady declared.

  "You folks haven't been listening to me," I said. "Saka was dead, too. His spine was shattered. His head and neck was almost severed from his body. I saw the piece of shrapnel that did it – it was white-hot and still glowing. He was dead. And that Bright saved him. Brought him back to life. Just like I said."

  "Where did you receive your medical degree?" Tomboy Fem asked me.

  "That's it! I'm finished with you people!" I stood up. "You can go to hell! I didn't ask to see you, you asked to see me. If all you can do is insult me and claim that I'm lying, well, screw you all. I'm going back to my squad!"

  "Hold it, hold it! Sit down, please," Streetwalker said. "We believe you. And we don't mean to insult you. This is extremely important, and that's why we have to ask all these questions. Please, relax a bit. Here, have some dox."

  "I don't want any dox. I want to go back to my squad." I reluctantly sat down.

  "Please tell us about the death of the Bright."

  "He was a soldier. He had bad wounds in his armor, chest hits. He was dying. He raised his visor, and I could see his face. He was a Bright – but he looked like a tough old veteran. He was trying to get a canteen to his lips but he couldn't do it. I helped him."

  "Why did you help him?" Paleface asked.

  "I'm not even going to answer that," I said, in contempt.

  "I'm sorry. Please go on."

  "I helped him raise the canteen to his lips and he drank."

  "You touched him. Where?" Fatman asked.

  "My right hand was on his, and on the canteen. Armor to armor. My other hand was at the back of his helmet as I was holding his head up so he could get the drink. Then I moved my hand away, and the canteen fell out of his grasp."

  "What happened next?"

  "He was dying. He held out his hand to me. I held it. I held his hand because he was dying. And that's when – as I told you before – I felt something surge into my hand and into my arm and into my body."

  "Surge. Can you describe it further?" Fatman asked.

  "It was very faint. The battle was raging all around us. But I felt it. When it happened, I remember thinking, 'peace and love'. That's what I thought, because that's what it felt like. Then Doggie was shouting at me to let go of the Bright because he was going into Dimension X. That's when I let go, and then his body disappeared with a bang. Check the combat images if you don't believe me."

  "We already have," Streetwalker said. "We believe you. And so – you had this dream about Demon Hill. A very vivid dream."

  "That's right."

  "And you believe it came from the Brights?"

  "Well, where else would it come from? In view of its accuracy?"

  "Your warname is Prophet. What's that all about?" Streetwalker continued.

  "That has nothing to do with it. My buddy started calling me Prophet because…well I was always dreaming and speculating about the future. Wondering what would happen to us and so forth."

  "Did you ever make any good predictions on your own – before you ran into this Bright?"

  "I didn't run into him. We met on the battlefield. And he was dying. No, I never made any predictions on my own."

  "But your dream wasn't exactly what you later saw at Demon Hill, was it?"

  "Well, it was pretty damned close. The site was exactly right – and the column of Demons and the saucers. The only thing that was off was that they had shields up in my dream but down in real life. And the female captives – they weren't there in real life."

  "Why do you think that was?" Paleface asked.

  "I don't know."

  "Have you had any more of these dreams since then?" he continued.

  "No."

  "You realize that your alert saved plenty of Legion lives and turned a Demon surprise attack into a brilliant Legion victory."

  "You make that sound like an accusation."

  "Sorry," Paleface said. "It's just that it's so important. And we're trying to understand it. All right, no more questions. Just one more thing. We want to do a brainscan. It won't take long."

  "Can I go back to my squad after that?"

  "Certainly. Please follow me."

  Δ

  The brainscan didn't take long – just a few fracs. But they asked me to take a break while they examined the results and consulted with each other. Fine. I found my way to the nearest mess hall and indulged in an outrageously wonderful meal. I felt bad knowing that Delta was out there in the mud picking at Legion rats. I put a whole bunch of pastries into a bag to take back to the squad.

  When my comset pinged, I returned to the consulting room and there were a whole slew of new people there – some of them were in uniform. Oh no! A silver star – a Legion general! I snapped to attention.

  "Have a seat, please," the general said. "I'm General Hood. Prophet, I'd like to congratulate you for your initiative and daring in your successful recon of Demon Hill that resulted in a decisive allied tactical victory over the D's. I feel a whole hell of a lot better knowing I've got people like you out there."

  "Thank you, sir! It wasn't just me, sir. My squadie Nitro was with me. And our attack dog, uh, wolf, Blackie. He spotted the D's before we did."

  "An attack wolf. Remarkable! They didn't tell me that. Well look, Prophet. All these white-coated folks are very interested in how you predicted the location of those D's. They tell me you had physical contact with a Bright. And they've just brainscanned you. The scan revealed something remarkable, but they don't quite understand what it is. They have consulted with me, and I checked with the Ministry of War and I was told that a whole lot of people on Quaba want to talk with you and follow up. Galactic Information is the lead agency. So you've got a TDY to Quaba, starting as soon as this meeting ends."

  "Sir, I was told I could return to my squad. My squad leader said he needs me."

  "Galactic Info needs you more. We'll take care of your squad, don't worry. Sorry, Prophet. I know exactly how you feel. But if you are some kind of info channel from the Brights, this is a critical national development that must be investigated and exploited. Something like this could mean the difference between victory and defeat – as you've just demonstrated."

  "Yes sir." What the hell else could
I say? Damn it!

  PART III

  DOING THE RIGHT THING

  Chapter 12

  House of Horrors

  They put me on the C.S. Cosmic Sea. It was a Fleetcom star transport that was headed back to the Crista Cluster with plenty of wounded Legion troopers. I can tell you those troopers got first class service all the way. Some of the wounds were very serious but the ship was full of medics, doctors and nurses and their only priority was making those troopers feel better. I was proud of the Legion and proud of ConFree when I saw that. I felt humbled – to have survived intact when so many others were grievously suffering.

  I thought a lot. I just tried to stay out of the way of those holy soldiers. I couldn't help them – they had plenty of help. But I guess it got me thinking. And I think it helped me out. I had been feeling helpless and down – leaving the squad like that. But I didn't have any problems – not like they did. I decided I'd better stop whining mentally about my situation, and make the best of it. After all, if Galactic Info felt what happened to me was worth investigating, it probably was. And if they believed it was important – even critical – it probably was. So I'd better stop resenting, and resisting. Who the hell was I, anyway? I was a pretty small cog in the Legion's gigantic machinery of war and they certainly knew better than I what was important and what was not. I decided I'd cooperate, get it done, and get back to Delta as soon as I could.

  When we broke out of stardrive and approached Quaba, I got a lump in my throat looking out the simport at that gigantic, stunningly lovely world. Here was ConFree's beating heart, the Confederation's capital world. It had been one of the first refuges for the Outworlder race in the Outvac, when our people were fleeing System slavery, and now it was the galaxy's foremost example of political and economic perfection. ConFree was strong and free and wealthy and vigilant, determined to protect what it had created. And it was all run by the people, and any thug or lawyer or government bureaucrat who thought they could attack the people, or steal from them, was rapidly tracked down and executed for treason. Yes, that was what we were fighting for – the women and children of ConFree. They maybe couldn't defend themselves, but we sure as hell could. Standing there in my spotless blacks, looking out over that wonderful world, I felt great. I felt like a giant. All right, we'll see what they want. Then it will be back to Delta – where I belong.