"They got Saka!" somebody said.
"Move it, Saka – on us!" somebody else said. Saka leaped to his feet and charged through the flaming swamp, terrified.
"He's coming back! Take cover, Saka!" Cover, cover? There was no cover, there was only the swamp. Saka dove again into the mud and he saw the Bright craft coming back, straight as an arrow, headed right for him, personally, ripping past overhead, gone, then another titanic eruption and the world was a dreamy glowing flaming star, a star, touching down gently into his swamp, gentle deadly plasma, a soft rain, touching his armor with glowing drops to sizzle and pop, slowly slowly eating into his armor, seeking out the tender flesh inside.
Saka woke with a scream, flailing his arms wildly, shaking with adrenalin, covered with hot sweat. Lan Hwa was on him immediately, reassuring him, holding on tight, whispering in his ears, then bursting into tears.
"DX," he gasped. "DX dream." He collapsed against the pillow, then laughed. "Man! I thought I was dead!" That brought a howl of grief from Lan Hwa.
"Stop it, Lan Hwa. Stop crying. Everything is all right. And now I've had a DX dream – a good dream! The Prof will love this one!"
Δ
"This is worrying," the Prof said. "Very worrying." We were gathered in a conference room, all four of us prophets, the Prof, Doctor Dimension, and Paula the psycherchick. The techs had carefully examined all recoverable images from Saka's DX dream. It was certainly an important vision. But, again, we needed a lot more info to understand it properly.
"Bright fighter starcraft, strafing the Legion," the Prof said. "That is a terrifying scenario. Why would they do that?"
Nobody answered him.
"They've always been friendly to us," the Prof continued. "They helped us fight the Demons. And we raided Kratar, blew away that Demon saucer factory – their enemies. And they said they knew about it. And it seemed they were grateful. So why should they be strafing us?"
"Don't know," Saka said.
"If they turn against us, we're doomed. There's no possible way we can counter their technology. You've all seen it in action." The Prof's face revealed his deep concern. "When we report this to ConFree, they're going to go out of orbit."
"We must learn more," Doctor Dimension said.
"We can and we will," the Prof said. "But first we must try to put together what we have so far. Prophet sees a swamp of reeds and a Mocain starfighter zooming overhead at low altitude. And then there's a big blast and it appears the starcraft has just dropped some ordnance, perhaps aimed at Prophet. Switch to Saka. Saka sees a Bright starcraft – he's even in it! Then he's down in a swamp of reeds, running, and the Bright ship strafes him – twice! And it seems his comrades are there – presumably that's Delta – because they're calling out to him. And the reeds – that's about all we can focus on for sure. They appear to be the same type of reeds that Prophet saw. So, we have Prophet and Saka in the swamp, and Mocain and Bright starcraft overhead, and the Mocains strafing Prophet, and the Brights firing on Saka. This is horrifying. Does it mean the Brights and Mocains have allied against ConFree? We've got to find out."
"Any word yet on the reed species?" Ice asked.
"Not yet," the Prof replied. "But we’re still researching. It's amazing that nobody seems to think that reeds are important. This may be the key to the puzzle. It may actually give us a location. Or at least narrow it down."
"I predict we'll see more DX dreams," Paula said. "Things are getting increasingly tense. The stakes are high, for everyone. I'd like everyone to go to sleep at night thinking about this, and what it means. Worry about it. I believe that will stimulate more dreams."
"Yes," the Prof said. "We need more input. We certainly do. I encourage everyone to do whatever works to get your DX working. And I'm optimistic. You can do it."
Chapter 4
Images from the Dark
"Man, this looks like a wake. Who died?" Dragon asked, entering the private office of the Director General of ConFree. Dragon was the Director of the ConFree Legion, a hard, aggressive, seemingly young trooper clad in Legion black, tall and wiry, dark hair, deep-set eyes, a determined chin, blue tattooed beetles crawling up his neck, deaths heads looking out from his knuckles.
He was addressing the Director of ConFree and the Director of Galactic Information. Antara Tarantos-Hanna, the Director of ConFree, was a stunningly beautiful slender girl with pale brown flesh, sultry Assidic eyes, and silky ruddy hair that touched her shoulders lightly. Although she looked like a fashion model, she wore the combat cross and the blood badge on her blacks, and had a reputation as the dynamic, ruthless, fearless and brilliant leader of the most successful galactic confederation in history.
By her side stood Snow Leopard, the Director of Galactic Information, an intense yet somewhat intimidating pale-faced warrior, with white-blond hair and pink eyes that glowed like red-hot coals. Dragon and Snow Leopard also wore the combat cross and blood badge on their blacks.
"Nobody has died yet – and I'd like to keep it that way," Tara said. "That's why we're meeting."
"Come on, gimme a smile," Dragon said. Tara embraced him, but did not smile. When she broke away, Dragon and Snow Leopard struck fists, then all three found seats by the massive picture window with the spectacular view of Quaba City. It was a very large office but there were only the three of them in the room.
"Nice view," Dragon said. Only one of Quaba's two suns was barely visible, peeking through heavy clouds.
"Show him," Tara said. Snow Leopard gestured to a large wall screen, which lit up immediately. It showed a glowing holo image of a delta-shaped starcraft.
"Starcraft ID 101," Snow Leopard said. "Dragon?"
"Damn it to hell," Dragon said, glaring at the holo.
"Can’t ID it?" Snow Leopard asked, with an easy grin.
"It’s a Bright delta fighter," Dragon said, "and I wish it wasn't. I hope you're going to tell me this image was taken during the recent festivities with the D's."
"I'm afraid not," Snow Leopard said, as the holo image slowly revolved to expose all sides. "This image, and several others we have, was taken a few weeks ago, in the Inners – in UMC vac."
"What's the source?"
"We try to monitor significant developments in the UMC. Source is in the Mocain stellar defense forces. The UMC leadership is in a panic over this. They don't know what it means. Three sightings so far, single ships, scattered around the Luyten sector, but far beyond normal patrol range. The UMC fleet is scrambling to detect and monitor these alien ships. When approached, the ships shoot up to impossible speeds, then disappear from the vac."
"Into DX, right?"
"Right. Can’t follow them there."
"God damn it to hell," Dragon said, quietly.
"So the question is: what are they doing in our galaxy?" Tara said.
"Hell – what are they doing in our universe?" Dragon asked. "The last time they made an appearance it was to strike at the Demons. But the Demons are gone – right?"
"That's right," Snow Leopard said.
"This is how it starts," Tara said. "Recon."
"Always something we do not need," Dragon said. "We finally get rid of the D's, and now we've got Brights poking around our galaxy."
"This is an extremely important issue," Tara said. "The Brights are pretty much all-powerful. We cannot counter their technology. So far they've been on our side against the D's. They've been friendly. But there's no guarantee that will continue."
"It's hard to communicate with psychics who do not speak," Snow Leopard said, "and who live in another universe."
"It may be hard," Tara said, "but I'm sure you recall I asked you to do that, Snow Leopard. And I expect it to get done. How is it going?"
"We're making progress. But slowly. They've actually had some interesting prophecies. One involving UMC starcraft. Another involving Bright starcraft – both seemingly strafing Legion troopers. But nothing we can so far pin down. You'll know the instant they come up with hard, identif
iable information."
"You'll remember I asked for a contact team of psychics to stand by for whatever mission we come up with. If the Brights are now operating in our galaxy this may happen sooner rather than later. You tell those people – what do they call themselves?"
"Delta Research."
"You tell them to stand by for trouble. Yeah, and one more thing. I want a high-powered delegation to visit the UMC as soon as poss and brief them on the critical importance of not, repeat not, shooting at or in any way being aggressive towards the Brights. If they classify humans as enemies, we are all in very deep trouble. We'll send reps from Galactic Info, the Legion, Fleetcom and, hell, send 'em a personal rep from me. Emphasize the stupidity of challenging the Brights in any way. Bribe the Mocains. Whatever the hell has to be done. I don't want anybody taking potshots at the Brights. We've got enough problems with the D's, we don't need any new, all-powerful enemies."
"You want me to go?" Snow Leopard asked.
"No, I want you here. Just make sure the Mocains get the message. And tell Thinker to get those Delta people producing some useful prophecies for us. This would be a good time."
Δ
Bees was squirming in her chair, straining to hear the latest from Good Soul. She could barely stand it. It was all bad news.
Help. Help. Any thinking being, help…. A message of distress, from somewhere unknown, somewhere maybe not even in our own time and space. They are coming. Late, too late…. Who is coming? Describe them! Why are they coming? Alone. Fellows captured. Helpless. Planet 6621. Fellows captured. What does that mean? Planet 6621. Sorry, no record. Fools, fools in peril. Too late for them, too late for me. The thoughtless dead approach…. The thoughtless dead. That's not too hard. Fools fools fools. We fools, I the fool, Good Soul, cry for release. No escape. Stupid, now die. Die your deserved death. Whoever Good Soul was, she was helpless. Captured by aliens, skinlight slowly fading, flickering. Die in a dirty hole, alone.
Good Soul's thoughts seemed stronger now, or maybe Bees was just getting better at hearing them. It seemed time was running out for Good Soul. Bees felt a great sadness. She could hear her. She should be able to do something to help her. Skinlight – she must be a Bright! Pursued by unthinking aliens – that was us!
"Bees. Excuse me." Doctor Dimension stood there, holding a printout in one hand.
"Yes, Doctor?" Bees reluctantly removed her earphones. Doctor D appeared happy. He looked almost comical. His long hair was carelessly mussed up and he was beaming in delight.
"As you know, we've been doing a lot of research on the DX neural transmissions that you've been freescanning. We've been making progress. Slow but sure."
"I'm glad to hear it, Doctor," Bees said, in a neutral tone. She was anxious to get back to Good Soul.
"We've succeeded in tracing some of the transmissions back to their general points of origin."
"General points of origin! What does that mean?"
"I used your special frequency, you know, Good Soul, as a test."
"A test?" Bees was frozen in anticipation.
"Yes. The frequency originates in this universe, in DX of course, and it is sourced to the Inners, UMC vac, somewhere in or around the Luyten sector."
Bees gave a little squeal and her arms jerked as if activated by a burst of electricity, sending her dox cup ricocheting off the counter to bounce around on the deck. "Oh! That's wonderful! Where in the Luyten Sector? Where where where!"
"Um, well, we can't say exactly. We're still learning. But I'm certain it is the Luyten sector, or the vicinity. Is that helpful?"
"Helpful? Helpful? Oh Doctor!" Bees leaped up and gave Doctor Dimension an enthusiastic wet kiss. "Oh thank you thank you thank you!" She was trembling.
"Ah, yes! Thank you. I mean, I'm happy to help," the Doctor said.
When the Doctor left the room Bees picked up the earphones again and tried to calm down. "We hear you, Good Soul," she said. "And we're coming as soon as we can." She knew nobody could hear her except herself but that didn't matter. She meant every word. Good Soul was not a microscopic worm in a drop of water. She was a Bright, under siege, and the Brights had saved Ice and Saka and Bees herself, and the whole damned squad, all of Delta, and maybe all of ConFree, too. And if Bees had anything to say about it, Delta Research was going to help Good Soul.
Δ
"It sure looks identical to me," the Professor said. He was at a table in his office, examining a detailed image of a pale slender reed, sprouting delicate little fronds all up and down its length. He was comparing that image with the fuzzy images of reeds sourced to brain scans from Prophet and Saka.
"It sure appears so," Doctor Dimension said from across the table. "A hit at last. You'll never guess what they call this species of reed."
"Surprise me," the Professor said.
"Delta Reed. That's what they call it. Because it grows in this great marshy delta area of a major river. Is that ironic or what?"
"Delta Reed. Perfect. Now this planet – Bliss." He looked over a printout. "Where is this, exactly?"
"It's in UMC vac. The Luyten Sector – but it's way out there – almost out of UMC vac. It's uninhabited. It's never been inhabited."
"It's obviously been explored," the Prof said, flipping through the pages of the planetary survey.
"Yes. The System sent an exploratory mission there once, when it was their space – almost a hundred years ago. They did a thorough scientific investigation – as you can see, and discovered about a million new species of flora and fauna. Including the reeds. They were evidently impressed with the place – hence the name. It was put on the list for colonization – but it never happened."
"And what is this planet to the UMC?" the Prof asked.
"It's nothing – as far as I can tell. The Galactic Info folks found this survey when searching for our reeds. The latest starcharts still show it as uninhabited."
"So. Saka and Prophet have had DX dreams about this planet, and have seen both UMC and Bright starcraft flying around there dropping ordnance. And Bees has been monitoring distress calls from someone, probably a Bright, from the vicinity of the Luyten Sector."
"Exactly," Doctor D said. "Now that we know about the reeds, I'm going to fine focus in on planet Bliss and see if Bees' frequency originates there. Did I tell you Bees kissed me?"
"Well, she's such a wonderful girl I'll have to overlook her strange taste in men. I'd advise you not to let that get around or Scout may hunt you down and kill you. He's got no sense of humor like I do."
Δ
It was a rosy dawn, so peaceful and still, the clouds on the horizon stained pink and gold, a ruddy sun peeking through the clouds to view the new day – to create it. The sky was slowly changing from black to deep cobalt to a pale blue, the stars slowly vanishing. I was above it all, floating like a bird, gliding on the air currents. It was incredibly relaxing. I didn't even think about what I was doing up there. It was pure sensory overload, and I didn't want to question it.
The dawn revealed the city, a wonderful city by the sea, now glowing pink in the rising sun. It was clearly a major city, built around a great bay that was dotted with bulk cargo ships, a whole commercial fleet at anchor in calm dark waters. The city seemed to be well planned. It had a reddish theme, many of the neatly interlocking buildings constructed of a ruddy stone. Down near the harbor a line of tall buildings sheathed in glass winked at the new day. It was early but the city was already humming with activity. Countless aircars were headed into town along invisible tracks in the sky. A great airship floated over the city, full of passengers lined up at open windows, taking in the view. Off in the suburbs there was a busy starport, and a liner lifted off as I watched.
I wondered what city this was. I had a vague feeling that I had seen it before. Now my body was tingling – something wrong, alert, Prophet, alert! My eyes were drawn to a point in the sky, past the bay, out over the dark ocean. A tiny speck was slowly cutting its way through the sky. Falling slowly, le
isurely downwards. Glowing, growing against the dark blue sky. Leaving a white-hot trail. Meteor, I thought. Damn! But at least it was not going to hit the city. It was going to fall way out in the ocean.
I watched it fall. A white hot core, leaving a burning wake. Finally it disappeared over the horizon. I hung there in the air, fascinated.
It burst like a million suns, lighting up all creation, blinding me, the light turning the city into a negative image. The light did not fade. It burnt itself into the sky, pulsing brightly. Millions of tons of vaporized seawater and superhot melted rocks were twisting up towards the stratosphere in a gigantic glowing cloud and starting to rain back down onto the planet. I could not look directly at it, it was too powerful. It was like looking at the face of God. Then the sound hit but it was not just a sound wave. It was the crack of doom and the last sound anyone in that city ever heard. A titanic shock wave shot in from the ocean, a tremendous burst of atmosphere and superhot debris that leveled the city instantly, obliterating everything, blasting it all to hell, an atmospheric firestorm. And then, with another gigantic rumbling, the earth shook and the ocean came shooting in, a tsunami hundreds of marks tall, a great evil superwave, hitting at the speed of a starcraft, obliterating the flaming remnants of the city, grinding it to pieces.
I somehow remained there, way up in the sky, as the debris rained down, filling the sky, turning it black. The entire world below was boiling, as the ocean swirled over the firestorm. Nothing was left. How had I survived?
Then I saw it. A single starcraft, gliding calmly over the inferno below. I recognized it immediately. It was a Bright fighter.
Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) Page 8
