by Scott Moon
He knew his attack was foolish. Escape was the only thing that mattered. But he couldn’t watch the ships burn. It was just wrong somehow, and if there were people inside, he wouldn’t want to see anyone die like that.
The Slomn crouched as Kin’s bullets hit the back of its skull. No unarmored creature Kin had encountered could survive so many hits. But this was the world-destroying monster that drove the mighty Imperial fleet across the universe like frightened children.
“What did you do?” Nander yelled.
“I wanted to see how hard they are to kill.”
“Damn hard.” Nander watched Kin’s victim break from the others and pursue.
Kin selected new targets until the ship destroyers abandoned the mission of destruction and swarmed after him.
Good job, Roland. You’ve saved a derelict antique for another five minutes. Now you’re going to die.
Salamander men came in a rush, tails lashing the ground, eyes burning bright. Despite the hellish fierceness in their eyes, they sent warriors forward in large intervals, never moving close to one another.
Kin turned to Nander. “Here they come. You might want to start hauling ass.”
Nander stood paralyzed, but only for a moment.
“We must flee.” Nander’s words came evenly. His military training and quick recovery impressed Kin. He realized the man was terrified of the Slomn when lesser dangers fazed him not at all. But in a crisis, the Imperial trooper seemed ready to rise to the occasion.
Kin saw Orlan and Laura driving the people of Crater Town toward a tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern. By now, the refugees knew the drill. They didn’t shriek or panic. They grabbed what they needed and could carry, and moved away from the Slomn.
The serpent men closed the distance but stopped to blast the ships with beams of fire that seared Kin’s vision even at a distance. Heat shields trembled from impact but remained intact.
“As old as this fleet is, I calculate the larger ships must be designed to withstand solar flares. The Slomn may destroy them, but it will take time. Lead the way, or follow,” Nander said.
“You lead. One way is as good as the other.” Kin wanted to test the Imperial. If his knowledge of the catacombs was too detailed, Kin would know the man withheld information.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
IN most ways, Nander appeared as human as any member of Earth Fleet. Subtle differences existed in his physique. Human ethnicity could be revealed by size or skin color, but more often, it was the eyes that characterized the descendants of Earth. Kin had studied Nander’s eyes. He saw the promise of secrets, but little else that marked the man as an alien conqueror.
Nander was the only Imperial Kin had seen without battle armor. Kin didn’t dare generalize his lanky but strong form. He knew how great the difference was between Orlan and his own proportions. Two humans couldn’t be more different physically, mentally, or emotionally. Or so Kin told himself.
Nander’s gait was slightly abnormal. Was this because he had spent most of his life wearing battle armor and living on a spaceship? Did other members of his race swagger like a cross between an acrobat and a soldier fresh out of Officer Candidate School?
And if there were no genuine differences between the Human and Mazz, didn’t that suggest a common origin? Kin realized he should have asked Lieutenant Raker questions when he had the chance. The intelligence officer had lived among the Imperials long enough to go half crazy.
“This way,” Nander said. “The Slomn have not been here. The passage is dark. There are no light trails from their scales.”
“Let me know if you see them glowing in the shadows.” Kin remembered the fissures of hot illumination between the scales of the Slomn he had seen up close and personal. He tried not to remember the psychic attack that had plunged him into darkness, then blinded him with brightness. Colors still floated in his vision from witnessing the flamethrower trick, but at least he had been able to see.
“They ooze radiation. If I had my armor, I could track them.” Nander moved up a steep incline into darkness. “Until they start their mind games.”
Kin followed, feeling claustrophobic. A Slomn warrior would be too large to come this way. That didn’t, of course, mean there wasn’t a deadly host waiting at the top.
“They don’t have armored vehicles as we do. No tanks. Only transport craft. But they are nuclear.”
“I can believe that.” Kin stopped and listened. Total blackness surrounded him. The rest of the climb would be by feel and guesswork. “I don’t understand why they don’t burn up. I’ve never heard of a nuclear species.”
“How do you think they destroy worlds? In space, they are vulnerable, assuming you can detect their ships. Once they make planetfall, the end is only a matter of time. We hit them as hard as we can. Take as many out of the fight as possible. But it is just a delaying action. Crashdown will burn once their main force arrives.”
Kin had questions but kept silent. Nander’s sudden desire to share information made Kin suspicious.
“Are you nervous, Nander?”
The Mazz Imperial stopped moving so suddenly that Kin thought he might have vanished into the dark hole, plummeting into the abyss. A moment passed. “No more than usual. Your reputation is well known to us.”
Kin glared. His reputation had been an albatross for years. The Imperial stared back without flinching, providing Kin a chance to read his expression. Or attempt to. “We need light.”
Nander turned on the small flashlight Orlan had given him earlier. Kin activated his at the lowest setting.
“I wish I had night vision,” Nander said.
“I’ll make sure to pack goggles the next time I plan to be trapped below the earth with nuclear-powered serpent men stalking me.”
Nander chuckled.
They climbed for hours, stopping short of each intersection to look and listen. Nander didn’t seem to have a secret map or knowledge of the catacombs. He merely went up each time there was an opportunity.
Shy daylight reached into the tunnel. Kin realized that he was seeing texture where blackness had concealed the rock. He turned off his light. Although he came to the surface gradually, the glare of sunlight blinded him when he emerged into open air.
“When you’re ready, we should descend into the valley. There isn’t much concealment on the higher slopes.”
Kin agreed, but he didn’t like it. Imperial patrols dominated the lowlands. He followed, searching for an indication of Orlan and the others. Nander led him past two squads of enemy troopers, but the third surrounded them.
The leader of the patrol stepped forward. “Good work, General Nander.”
“General Nander?” Kin asked.
“I told you I was trained as an officer.”
“You told me every Mazz trooper was trained as an officer.”
Nander shrugged.
A trooper took Kin’s gun and sword.
Kin stared into the opaque face shield of the Imperial armor.
The trooper leaned down aggressively. “You’re not going to fight? No Mazz soldier would surrender his weapons.”
“They’re not very good weapons.”
Nander laughed. “Good enough to disrupt a Slomn fire attack.”
The soldier stepped back and reconsidered Kin. He handed the pistol and sword to a subordinate, then saluted Nander.
“What are your orders, General? Back to the fortress?”
“In time, Captain Trak. He has something to show us first,” Nander said. He waved his hand at one of the troopers, who immediately shed his armor.
Kin watched three men help Nander into the Imperial FSPAA.
Trak spoke in the Mazz language, seeming to respectfully disagree with Nander, but relented in the end. Once Nander was geared up and ready to go, he faced Kin.
“Take us to Sophia’s Pass.”
“You didn’t say please.”
The troopers tensed. Captain Trak growled something profane.
&nb
sp; Nander lowered his helmet, tucking the chin.
Kin understood the gesture. He had spent his life around men with concealed faces.
Nander drew out the moment. “Take us to Sophia’s Pass, please.”
“What will happen to my friends?”
“If I can help them, I will. But don’t concern yourself. They have probably been incinerated.”
The words punched like a fist, although Kin didn’t believe the coldhearted declaration. Nander changed as the Imperials responded to his orders. Each soldier saluted and obeyed.
Images of the cavern overlaid the mountain scene — Laura and the people of Crater Town fleeing, Orlan shooting, falling back, and shooting again. Rickson had pulled William the Reaper by an arm. Kin doubted he would see anything like that again.
“Do all Imperial officers lie with such fluency?”
Nander’s helmet looked at Kin. “I didn’t lie as much as you failed to listen. You must yield to the Mazz Empire. You must fight Slomn. You must deliver Clavender, or this planet will burn. In time, Earth Fleet will burn. Are you going to tell me you would openly cooperate with your captors?”
“I think that’s a trick question, since your goons seem to want me dead.” Kin gestured at Captain Trak. Something about the man’s bearing reminded him of Orlan. Trak was taller and nearly as broad. How much of that was armor, Kin didn’t know.
“I may have misled you in certain aspects of the situation, but in this you can have absolute confidence — the safety of your friends is up to you.”
“I’ve seen how you treat prisoners,” Kin said.
“Uncooperative prisoners. Captain Raien attacked her guards.”
“Good for her. I hope she killed a few.”
Captain Trak grunted.
“Take us to Sophia’s Pass or the Slomn will overwhelm the tunnels and the refugees of Crater Town.”
Kin held Nander’s gaze for several moments, then led the way through trees and mountain trails, wishing he could hear the radio communications of the Imperials. They weren’t likely to use Fleet speech, but a soldier’s tone was universal.
“I was serious when I said you should join the Mazz Empire. Since you aren’t part of Earth Fleet, not officially, there is precedent.”
“What kind of precedent?”
“Many humans fight for us. Some are compensated. It depends on what they bring to the table.”
“Are we eating dinner or something?”
“Dinner, dying, disappearing — there are options. But if you want to help your friends, you should be a friend to the Mazz. By now you must realize the futility of resistance. All sentient races must unite against the Slomn.”
Kin studied his guards as he walked. “Especially the Ror-Rea.”
“Most especially.”
“But not because Clavender tricked you through a wormhole. Her people sheltered you for a time, and you taught them war. That’s why she won’t help you.”
“The Ror-Rea is the only place the Slomn cannot go.”
“Then why did they come here?”
“They think they can find the place, but it is impossible.”
Kin checked his holster for a pistol that wasn’t there.
“Old habits are hard to break, aren’t they?”
Kin looked away, irritated with his own transparency. “The Ror-Rea is on the other side of Crashdown. Dax told me they have hundreds of thousands of warriors ready to fight.”
“That is not the Ror-Rea. Is that what Commander Westwood told you? He saw the population density and assumed he understood all there is to know about our winged friends.”
Kin concentrated on listening. Talking was getting him nowhere. Perhaps a good dose of silence would loosen Nander’s tongue. He seemed pretty happy with himself right about now. Perhaps the general would brag.
For the first time since Orlan rescued the Imperial, Nander spoke with his hands. “This planet is full of mysteries, isn’t it? The Ror-Rea, the wormhole, glass moons.”
“What?”
“Since you’ve never been off the surface, you couldn’t know the moons used to be habitable planets. They teemed with life. Now the surface is melted smooth.”
Kin looked up at the ring of moons, some large, others fragmented and forlorn.
Nander chuckled. The sound rumbled from his helmet dryer than a naked voice. “I see you’re not going to bite.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“We lived here for generations before Clavender cast us through the void.”
“Tell me about the Ror-Rea,” Kin said.
Nander shrugged in his armor. “It is not so much a place as a state of mind. The Ror-Rea is a race, a realm, and a way of life. The winged ones are esoteric creatures, and full of contradictions. How could such a peaceful society become what they are now? We did not teach them war. We awakened their bloodlust.”
Kin stopped at the top of a ravine, recognizing a good place to escape. He calculated his chances of outrunning troopers in powered armor. A fool might risk it. Kin qualified as the biggest fool on the planet without a doubt, but he turned toward Nander and diplomacy.
“Ten thousand years is a long time to hold a grudge. I suppose it is a coincidence the Slomn have also sought Crashdown.”
“Edain. Crashdown is a crude name for the center of the wormhole nexus. And you’re right. We have ulterior motives. They don’t concern you.”
Kin popped his knuckles and thought of Orlan. The trooper’s habit had always annoyed Kin, yet here he was using it to buy time. “How long will the Slomn forget about you if they find the home of Clavender’s people?”
“Not long. But they won’t find it. Slomn aren’t good at riddles.”
“Neither am I.”
“You do yourself a disservice. Guess. Where do you think the Ror-Rea might be found?”
Kin pondered the question, focusing on Nander’s confident claim that the Slomn could never find Clavender’s homeland but believed they could.
He didn’t know enough about the Slomn. How could he predict their thoughts or analyze their beliefs when he had not the slightest idea of their culture, history, or even language? He had a better chance of speaking to the wormhole.
Nander ordered his troopers forward. “Scout ahead. Stay sharp. We may be near the Slomn landing site.”
Kin recognized good advice but could barely concentrate on the terrain as he considered Nander’s words.
The Salamanders can’t go to the Ror-Rea. He had seen them swim and been told they endured the void of space as a minor inconvenience. They had spacecraft and navigated wormholes. I’m missing something.
“The Ror-Rea is a place of peace. Or more accurately, it is a condition of tranquility. So long as the Slomn seek destruction, they will never find the realm of the Wingers,” Nander said.
“But they’ll find the Bleeding Grounds,” Kin said.
Nander flinched. “Pray they do not. Not before we do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE shell of the dead Imperial remained near the wormhole beacons. Everything was as Kin remembered, with one exception. The beacons vibrated with energy like starship thrusters tearing across a star system. Gravel trembled across the ground a half mile from the site. Evergreen trees trembled.
“I hope it doesn’t explode,” Kin said.
Nander didn’t laugh. He signaled his men. “This is close enough.”
Troopers fanned out right and left, weapons ready, although they stared at light pulsing from the sky into the cavern at the bottom of the ravine like a glowing snake entering a wound. The combat veterans looked defeated — like men who witnessed the scene many times and knew it meant the end.
“Why do they delve into the earth?” Kin asked.
“Perhaps that is the will of the wormhole. Perhaps the subterranean darkness reminds them of home. No one knows.” He consulted a display on his arm panel. The Imperial troopers pretended not to watch him, hiding frequent glances at their leader
behind weapons checks and other patrol tasks. Nander made another of his ritualistic hand gestures, nodding his head as he did so. “The Slomn traverse the wormhole to the core of the planet. They rally forces and launch a committed attack soon after critical mass is achieved.”
Other Imperials prayed or meditated. Kin wasn’t sure which, but it was the first time he’d seen the entire group participate. Something was about to happen. He’d witnessed similar behavior from troopers about to storm Hellsbreach.
He edged away from them, a half-formed plan to flee whispering seductively. Nander’s helmet turned, studied him, and faced the wormhole-event thrusting into the ravine.
Anything or nothing could be within the twisting tube of light.
Clavender’s voice echoed in memory. “All wormholes are one, Kin.”
Where are you, Clavender?
Nander approached Kin. He opened his helmet and placed both hands on his hips. “My men will attempt to take control of the Slomn portal. It will be dangerous. I need your word that you will not try to escape.”
Kin stared at the Imperial general.
“It’s for the greater good.” Nander beckoned one of his men to stand guard but spoke to Kin. “Where is your honor? Will you require me to waste manpower to supervise you?”
“Honor? Where was your honor when you led me into a trap?” Kin wanted to see the Imperials work. How would they control the beacons? What would happen if they failed? How far would Nander go to keep him prisoner?
Nander ordered his men to circle the ravine, spending little thought on the process. The operation had the feel of a well-rehearsed drill. Troopers began to move before he finished the words. He directed the rest of his attention toward Kin.
He spoke in a low, serious voice. “We can stop them here, on this planet. It is too late for our home world. Most of my race has perished. Only the Grand Armada remains. But your people need not suffer as we have.”
“Why here?” Kin asked.
“Because it is easier to travel to Edain than away from it. If my soldiers succeed today, the Slomn must fight us to the death. One way or another, this is the end.”
