by H. T. Kofruk
Giovanni hadn’t washed for days. His dark hair was matted and greasy and he had replaced his expensive suits with military fatigues. Though he knew he would never personally take part in the combat, keeping the appearance of a battle-ready leader was important for the morale of the One God followers and the armed forces fighting for them.
The last few weeks were arguably the worst in his career. Reports suggested that Lordsphere had been invaded by enemy forces and no contact could be established with the colonial capital. A third of their colonial wormhole stations had been destroyed and their forces were spread extremely thin to defend what remained. Orbital battles between his forces and the enemy were almost non-stop, and two of the four Atlantic wormhole stations in Earth’s orbit were no longer operational.
But he was at least glad that the Chinese were more occupied in crushing the Pacific Federation. The Atlantic could handle the Orthodox for the time being. With all the forces lost in outer-space combat though, even that was proving much tougher than expected. If only the Pacific could hang on longer, the Atlantic could take care of the Orthodox and then they could attack China from both sides.
The news he received was not reassuring, however. The states that shared borders with the Chinese Empire had already fallen. The Korean peninsula, Japan and Vietnam had been taken shockingly swiftly. North East Asia was already lost while South East Asia was only just hanging on. There were even unconfirmed reports that Chinese marines were landing on the man-made island of Pacifica, where the capital of the Pacific Federation was located.
The Afrikan Republic had declared neutrality but intelligence showed it was gathering forces. Numerous Afrikan trading vessels had returned to the Solar System, for first time in decades for many, most probably to be converted into war ships. The silence of the Peace Alliance, however, was the most glaringly obvious irony.
Giovanni was going to attempt to break that silence. The ambassador of the Peace Alliance had had a long and uncomfortable journey coming to Warsaw front from the relative comforts of London. The subterranean gravity-tunnels were easy to booby-trap and air travel was unsafe due to the armed satellites that floated in the upper atmosphere. The ambassador had made the journey the old-fashioned way; by ferry to Calais, France and then by vehicle all the way to Poland. Finally, he had arrived in the Forward Defence Base and was waiting for Giovanni in his office.
Ambassador Abdullah Al-Saif sat sipping his coffee when Giovanni opened the door. He stood up and bowed his head. He had arrived at his current position only six weeks prior to the outbreak of war and the former bio-chemistry professor was not prepared for the diplomatic nightmare that the first intra-Renden war on Earth in decades was turning out to be. Giovanni had met the ambassador twice before and was amazed again how unremarkable he looked. He was tall and lanky with frizzy hair and a large hooked nose. He was wearing the exact same grey suit and black tie as he had worn when the two had first met. He spoke the One Tongue with a heavy Arabic accent that was made worse by his stammer. In short, he epitomized the Peace Alliance penchant for uncharismatic technocrats in high government office.
“Mister Ambassador. I am glad you made the journey safely.”
“Thank you, High Chancellor.”
With a hand gesture, Giovanni beckoned the ambassador to retake his seat.
“I must apologize in advance for not observing all diplomatic courtesies. But then again, we are in quite a quagmire and you are not a man for ceremony anyhow” he said once both men were seated.
“The Peace Alliance is well aware of the dire circumstances surrounding the Great Empires of Earth, High Chancellor.”
“Aware, but doing very little to improve it, I dare say.”
Abdullah was dreading this conversation. His government was conscious of the perceived superiority of the Sino-Orthodox alliance in this war but was also wary of helping the belligerent Atlantic Alliance. The Peace Alliance had been forged as a secular entity with Sufi, Shiite, and Sunni Muslim majority living alongside Hindus, Jains, Sikhs, Zoroastrian, Christians and Jews. The religious zeal that led the Atlantic Alliance on crusades made the Peace Alliance very uncomfortable.
Abdullah could feel his throat drying up. He would have much preferred writing his explanation down on paper in a tidy, logical manner than having to express it orally in front of one of the most powerful men in the Yinhexi whose stress levels were most probably off the chart. “My government is analysing the situation in depth” he said after a few seconds of awkward silence.
Another silence ensued during which only Giovanni’s increasingly heavy breathing was audible. He felt like wringing the ambassador’s scrawny neck until he promised intervention. “Today alone, we likely lost ten thousand men on just this front” he said, trembling to regain his composure. “We are only just holding the line against the Orthodox. Countless systems under Atlantic protection are under attack. Once the Chinese finish the Pacific, who will stop them? What more analysis do you need?”
“I am sorry for your losses. The Peace Alliance is, however, impartial in its judgment when it comes to which side perpetrated war. The role of the Keeper of Peace on Earth must be carried out with a heavy heart and cold justice.”
“The Russians, Belarusians, Ukrainians, Serbians, even the bloody Armenians are on our doorstep. The Chinese are butchering Koreans, Japanese and Vietnamese. This is a crucial challenge to the sovereignty of the Atlantic Alliance and Pacific Federation.”
“High Chancellor, our intelligence suggests that it was the Atlantic Alliance that fired the first shots.”
“In a colonial war that was supposed to be fought outside the Solar System. We did not bring the war to Earth.”
“The Charter Convention itself doesn’t explicitly ban wars on Earth due to colonial conflicts.”
Why can’t he see? Giovanni banged his fist on the steel desk, knocking the ambassador’s coffee cup over the edge. The small white porcelain cup smashed on the tile floor, emptying the remaining dark liquid. The door of the office was forcefully opened and two of the High Chancellor’s bodyguards rushed in pointing their pistols. Giovanni waved them out. He was frustrated and irritated at the indifference and idealist arguments of the ambassador.
“Mister Al-Saif” addressed Giovanni after regaining his calm. “You make as if you are above Realpolitik and your only motivation is adherence to principles. But will that matter once the Earth and even the whole galaxy is under Chinese control? Yes, we fired the first shots. But our goal wasn’t invasion or domination. It was in response to the massacre of over fifty thousand Atlantic forces.”
With another hand gesture, he stopped the Abdullah from speaking and turned on a projector on the desk. “This is the only evidence we have so far indicating the existence of an advanced alien bred and conditioned by the Chinese” he said while Abdullah stared at the holograph of an alien forearm. “This alien was able to entirely crush our invasion force on Janpu. We have reason to believe that they are being used by the Chinese to gain swift victories in the Pacific Rim.”
The alien projection was bringing the scientist out of Abdullah. Estimations on the biology of the alien were projected alongside the forearm and they suggested a formidable fighting animal if coupled with medium intelligence. He suddenly desired to do take a specimen to a lab to run some tests when Giovanni brought him out of his semi-trance with a click of his fingers.
“I’m sorry, High Chancellor. Such specimens tend to bring out the bio-chemist in me” he said sheepishly. “Do you have any proof of their involvement in combat on Earth?”
Giovanni shook his head. “Not yet. They’re being used extremely covertly and the Chinese are being very careful not to leave any traces. But sightings have been reported.”
It was Abdullah’s turn to shake his head. “I’m afraid that is not enough to guarantee our intervention on your behalf.”
“Should we have hard proof of any use of intelligent aliens on Earth, you would send a recommendation to your governmen
t to join us?”
Abdullah nodded.
“Send him in” said Giovanni through his communicator.
Two armoured Atlantic soldiers entered the room dragging a third person. With droopy eyelids and vacant eyes, the third person had obviously been drugged. He was a stocky young man with a shaved head wearing a simple grey uniform made of cotton.
“Do you know this insignia?” asked Giovanni while pointing to a silver crucifix on the centre of the man’s chest.
“The Orthodox Cross?”
Giovanni shook his head. “It may look similar, but the Orthodox insignia has a diagonal line intersecting the lower part of the crucifix. Another small horizontal line intersects the top part. This is a Catholic Crucifix.”
“Catholics? I have read of them in history books. Some allege that many still worship in the name of Catholicism in Afrika. But it has not been an organized religious force on Earth for, what, three hundred years?”
“Exactly” said Giovanni with a smile.
Abdullah didn’t know what to say. If what the Atlantic president was implying was true, it would amount to some very severe accusation against the Orthodox Empire, and against China in extension. “I…” he said before gulping down some air.
“This man was injured and taken prisoner on the Polish front. DNA tests and truth agents have shed light on his origins” Giovanni cut in. “He calls himself a Grey Monk of the Grey Catholic Army. Apparently, the Orthodox has given refuge to the Catholics on a distant planet. Genetic tests have revealed some mutations that can only be explained by a long lineage of isolated extra-terrestrial human reproduction. He may look Renden but he is in fact an intelligent alien.”
Abdullah gasped at the last sentence. He was shocked at what it implied but also curious of the types of evolution that may have occurred to a relatively small, isolated group of humans in a very specific environment. He had already identified some mutations in families that spent a great amount of time in outer-space for more than three generations. But three centuries!
“By letting intelligent aliens set foot on Earth, the Orthodox Empire has severely violated the Charter Convention. We will soon have proof of the Chinese Empire doing the same with their own satanic creatures” declared Giovanni. “As the upholders of the Convention, the Peace Alliance and the other empires have an obligation to bring to justice the perpetrators.”
Abdullah was slightly disgusted by Giovanni’s sudden preachy attitude. The Peace Alliance did not need any reminder of its commitment, not least from the selfish and power-hungry Atlantic Alliance. “The Orthodox, yes, but for the Chinese, we will await proof” he replied.
“You will get it” said the Italian as he slowly got up. “I feel our meeting has been fruitful. I am confident that your government will do the necessary for the reestablishment of peace.”
Abdullah was suddenly anxious and no longer felt fatigued. He was about to request the Peace Alliance intervention in a war in which five of the six Great Empires would eventually participate. The Afrikan Republic would not remain neutral for long either. He could almost hear the screams from the coming years of strife.
Proof came much sooner than expected. Two days after their meeting, ten million Chinese marines and soldiers landed for ground invasion in Europe and Pacifica, along with half a million bio-engineered Nikruk. It took an agonizing four days for the Peace Alliance to declare war on the Orthodox-Chinese alliance. By then, half of Europe had already been conquered. The Catholic Army marched swiftly into Eastern Europe, massacring tens of thousands of One God followers. Chinese troops were at the doorsteps of Tai-pyoung, the Pacific Federation capital.
Book 2: Ungracious Fall
Prologue
The ceiling of the Zinawi Catacombs was illuminated by thousands of bio-luminescent fungi, giving the underground stream a greenish-blue tinge. Though beautiful, the fungi produced an odourless gas that could kill Ewani and humans alike if inhaled for more than a few minutes.
Captain Yulin Chen was sweating profusely underneath her mask despite the relative cool of the Catacombs. The old soldier in front of her, Sergeant Major Zhon Lau, looked back to see whether she was doing alright. The two of them had set out from Mengxing, a major Earth-like planet within the Chinese Empire, three months ago and their mission was soon to come to fruition.
“We will rest here” said Wanag, the leader of the twenty or so Ewani accompanying them. He was pointing to a slight indent of the underground stream that doubled the width of the bank which had previously only allowed single file marching.
Yulin sat down gratefully. Even the reliable Zhon seemed to collapse to the floor with a grunt. The Ewani spoke in a dialect that had never been recorded by Chinese intelligence and, hence, she didn’t understand a word. But the tone suggested that they were sneering at their weak human counterparts. She didn’t care. They had been marching underground for two weeks with only the sleep-chasing nutrients dissolved in the water canister to keep them going. A tube appeared inside the mask and Yulin drank heavily from her reservoir.
“You need to ration your supplies, ma’am” said Zhon.
She just nodded. She lifted a flap on her wrist and pushed down on a button. A needle pierced the skin on her thigh for the fourth time in the last week. The effects were felt within a few seconds as the ache and fatigue in her body evaporated. Her heavy breathing normalised and even her sweaty skin seemed to dry.
Wanag approached her and crouched on the ground the common Ewani way. “We will soon arrive” he said in the One Tongue.
“How much longer?” she asked.
“Another four hours if we run like Ewani.” That probably meant another six hours at the moderate jogging speed at which they were travelling.
Yulin observed the Ewani warrior for the hundredth time and remarked how different he and his group looked from the images she had studied before the mission. While most of the Ewanis used as soldiers in the Atlantic Alliance, their main rival colonial power, were tall and slim with khaki skin colour, Wanag and his kin were relatively stout with a brown hue common on the Eastern Continent of Onut. They also tended to have shorter antennae and often the bottom pair of arms was longer than the top pair which was opposite to what she had previously observed in the holographs. These called themselves the Thag-Ewani, or True-Ewani to distinguish themselves from the Kal-Ewani, or Western Ewani.
She had yet to make contact with the reclusive Begala-Ewani who lived in the cold southern tundra. The Thag-Ewani described them as being even shorter and stouter with only stubs left of their antennae. Their bottom pair of arms had apparently disappeared as they evolved to suffer the cold climate. The way the Thag-Ewani talked of their southern neighbours made it clear that they looked down on them.
After a few more minutes of rest, the group started on their journey again. During the past few days, Yulin had been tempted more than once to take her amplifier suit off low energy consumption mode. But she had no wireless energy transfer and the tiny solar cells embedded in her outer armour were useless in the tunnels. She could but admire Zhon’s perseverance while carrying a pack that weighed half as much as he did with no complaint and barely a grunt as he put it back on his back.
The Zinawi Catacombs were vast natural tunnels under the narrow sea dividing the two main continents of Onut. The labyrinthine shafts in the seabed were never properly mapped even after the arrival of Rendens on the Ewani home planet though a handful of locals from both sides of the sea claimed to know how to navigate them. The first Rendens explorers had discovered that the noxious gases secreted by the ubiquitous fungi would have sophisticated equipment malfunctioning within a few days, driving the cost of their endeavours unjustifiably high.
Wanag was one of the few Thag-Ewani who claimed to know the tunnels well enough to reach Reag, the largest city on Onut, from the Eastern Continent. He was a boastful, loud youth who was always quick to point out his race’s physical superiority. Yulin was the first female Renden he had ever seen and he
remarked how ‘even punier and sickly’ she looked.
Like most Thag-Ewani, he became very hot-tempered at the mention of their more dominant kin from over the sea. ‘Barbaric scum! They steal our culture, our writing system and then pretend to be superior to us?’ he had said during one of their initial conversations. ‘If they didn’t have their Renden masters fucking them, we would kill every single one.’
The animosity between the Kal and the Thag Ewani was little known outside the Atlantic Alliance since only Kal served in the military. Half a million Ewani warriors, all from the western continent, were in active duty in the Atlantic Alliance Marine Corps and Army. The Atlantic Alliance reciprocated by building infrastructure, transferring technology and, above all, maintaining Kal superiority on Onut.
Chinese veterans usually knew better than to face head on the grasshopper-like aliens during skirmishes. But to properly cripple the Atlantic Alliance military, fomenting discontent in their colonies was vital. If they could exploit certain divisions within the more powerful populations, the Atlantic Alliance wouldn’t be able to count on them to provide troops.
Yulin, a tactical planning expert by training, had been sent to Onut with much difficulty. The Chinese intelligence services knew very little about the home of one of their most daunting adversaries. Within days she had quickly found out that the Thag-Ewani were generally less well-educated, tended to speak less the One Tongue and though they wouldn’t dare attack Rendens like Yulin or Zhon, they certainly didn’t like them.
“You are too slow!” yelled Wanag at the two Rendens while waving a pulse rifle in their direction. “The tide will fill the tunnels with water in a few hours. Hurry or else you will die.”
“He’s extremely annoying” muttered Zhon in Chinese.
Yulin chuckled. She felt renewed after the rest and injection. Zhon looked back at her, surprised to hear anything else than a weak murmur, and frowned with disapproval. He was worried that she was taking the anti-fatigue injections too often since she could become addicted. He still thinks we’re going to get out of this alive.
