Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree)

by Marshall S. Thomas

  Recon, I thought. Post-strike recon. Mission confirmed successful.

  I screamed at last, vaulting out of bed and crashing to the floor, tangled in sheets. Honeyhair came scrambling after me, shocked awake, calling my name.

  I was convulsed, my muscles paralyzed, then I started shaking violently. "Get the Prof!" I called out. "Now! Now! Now! We go to the brainscan room, now! Alert everybody!" This was it. This was what we had been waiting for, all this time. I struggled to my feet, helped up by Honeyhair.

  "Are you all right, Prophet?" she asked shakily.

  "No! No! I'm not all right." The Brights, the Brights, I thought. Why would the Brights do that?

  Δ

  As I lay there on the examining table with my head encased in the brainscan device, I tried to remain calm. Pretty much everybody was there, the Prof, Doc D, Paula the psycherchick, all the techs, and everyone else who had heard the ruckus at oh-dark-thirty and realized that something was up. Everyone was wearing rumpled pajamas or shorts and tees or nightgowns. Bees and Scout were there and so were Ice and Kwan and Saka and Lan Hwa. Honeyhair was by my side, still trembling, and Blondie suddenly rushed in to comfort her.

  "Just relax, Prophet," the Prof said. "These images are so clear." He was viewing the brainscan images on a d-screen. "Oh my goodness. Oh. All right, just try to relax. Did you hear it as well as see it?"

  "Yes. I thought the blast had deafened me. It was so real. So real!"

  "And you say you were floating up in the air?"

  "Yes."

  "Interesting. So the DX is showing you something but you are only involved as a spectator. It's as if it is one possible future, but you don't necessarily have to be there. Like Ice's vision of the attack on Valhalla. In her vision, she was there, a participant, but in reality she was never there. It would have happened, but we reacted to it, so it started to happen, but we were able to counter it because we knew it was going to happen. Good work, Prophet! Good work! This is so thrilling! The instant everything is confirmed I'm prepping a flash Cosmic Secret Q-link report for the Director of ConFree and everybody else who has need to know. But first I wake up Ambassador Wester and brief him."

  "Look at that. Look at that!" somebody said.

  "Oh my dear God," the Prof said. That impossible tsunami was annihilating the city.

  "Oh God, my holy God," Bees said. She appeared to be stunned. She dropped to her knees. She raised her hands, fingers together like a church steeple. "Lord God, heavenly King, all-powerful, all-knowing. We beseech You. Please stop this from happening. Oh dear Lord, oh holy God, I pray on bleeding knees, please spare the city, spare all those innocents dying for nothing, dear Lord, I am only a miserable sinner, I am nobody but please please please, in your infinite wisdom, grant my humble prayers and spare the city, spare the innocents, spare them all. Have mercy on us, I pray to You, I beg You in Your infinite wisdom and goodness please grant my request if it is according to Your holy will, may God's will be done, I leave everything up to Your divine goodness and loving care, I beg you Lord have mercy and spare the innocents, may God's will be done. Please please please." She was trembling.

  "That's a Bright delta fighter," Scout said coldly, ignoring his lover's prayer.

  "It certainly is," the Prof said. "This is terrible. The worst possible news. Why would the Brights attack us?" A burst of adrenalin shot through my system.

  "What city is that, Prof?" I asked. "Do you recognize it?"

  "I certainly do, Prophet. That's Ultima Spring, the new administrative capital of the UMC, on the planet Terra, the third world from Sol – mankind's ancestral home."

  The UMC! They were attacking the UMC! Then why had the Prof said the Brights were attacking us? I thought about it a bit. Then I understood and was ashamed of myself. Us, yes. We're all humans, aren't we? Even the Mocains. And if the Brights were attacking humans, we were all in trouble.

  Δ

  "It appears to have been an asteroid or a meteor, but the Bright starcraft post-strike recon makes it look like it was a Bright attack – whatever the weapon," the Professor said. He was in Ambassador Wester's office, just the two of them, and the shielding was up. The conference table was covered with brainscan shots – images from the dark. Wester was looking through the Professor's report.

  "Quite an effective weapon," Wester said. He was in bare feet but had pulled on some uniform pants and an unbuttoned blouse. The Prof was still in his pajamas. Ambassador Wester was the Prof's direct Galactic Information supervisor and he was responsible for Delta Research. He seldom involved himself in the day to day affairs of the unit, but ruled on major decisions. He was a tall Outworlder with closely cropped dark brown hair and a neat little mustache. The Prof knew that Wester was a close personal friend of Antara Tarantos-Hanna, the Director General of ConFree.

  "This is an excellent summary of this vision and the previous visions," Wester said. "And how they fit together."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Any idea why the Brights would be attacking the Mocains?"

  "We've no clue, sir. But we aim to find out. The key may be located on that planet Bliss, out in the Luyten Sector. There's definitely something going on there that we should know about. And it appears to involve a Bright presence, and the UMC as well."

  "I agree it's now time to act. We are under standing orders to contact the Brights when it appears possible to do so. And Delta is the only unit that can do the job."

  "Yes sir."

  "The future of ConFree – no. The future of humanity may depend on this mission. If you can contact the Brights."

  "Sir. Is my recommendation acceptable?"

  "Yes. It's a sound plan."

  "And, as we discussed before – I make the personnel decisions?"

  Wester just looked at him.

  "We're an effective team, sir," the Prof continued. "I'm going to need them all. And this is important. I must lead the team. Personally. There's nobody else."

  "All right, Prof. I'll approve that. Just take good care of our prophets, all right? I don't want to have to explain to the Director-General how I lost Delta Research. Things like that get her upset. I've seen her upset before, and I don't want to see it again."

  Δ

  "Good morning, Delta," the Prof said. We were all gathered in Conference Room A, which was the big one. We were wearing our blacks, and we knew it was an important meeting. A lot had been happening. And now we were going to get the big picture. The Prof stood behind the lectern with the Delta Research seal on it. Doctor Dimension and Paula the psycherchick and Bird flanked him behind the counter facing the audience. The core team of Delta Research was in that audience – Saka, Ice, Bees and me, and Doggie, Scout, Smiley and Arie. Blackie barked once, standing in the aisle near Doggie.

  "This room is now sealed," the Prof said. "Nothing said in here is to be repeated outside." The huge d-screen behind him lit up with a vision of a dark planet clouded with a heavy atmosphere. "This is Bliss – believe it or not. This planet is located in the Luyten Sector, in UMC vac. This is our mission. Somewhere on this planet, we believe, at least one Bright is in peril. Maybe more. And the Mocains appear to be involved here as well. You all know about Bees' freescanning results, and Saka and Prophet's visions concerning this planet, and Prophet's later vision about Sol. The stakes are very high here. The prophecies show Brights attacking humans – with one horrific attack involving an asteroid, or comet, targeting Terra – Earth. Our mission is to contact the Brights, interact with them mentally, exchange thoughts, and explain to them that our intentions are peaceful and that we regard them as friends and allies. And try to get to the bottom of these troubling visions.

  "You are all vital to this mission. I am to lead it. Prophet, Ice, Saka, Bees, you are to interact with the Brights, if we meet them. Doggie, you will be in charge of any tactical moves if combat is involved, although under my overall command. Scout, Smiley, Nitro, you will be our security element under Doggie. Bird, you will pilot our Phantom and provi
de downside transport and air cover if required. I certainly do not intend to engage the Brights in combat. But the UMC is evidently present there as well, or will be according to your visions. We don't know what their role will be. So we must be ready for anything.

  "Of course, everyone in Delta wants to participate. That's not surprising. The good news is that this time I will be personally leading the mission, and also making all personnel decisions. That's as it should be – you'll remember on the Kratar mission Galactic Info was ruling on who could go and who had to remain behind. As I see it we are a united team, and we're all going – except for those without combat training. Our medics Honeyhair and Blondie will remain here – no arguments. Bees is a qualified medic and combat trained, and she can handle any casualties. Doctor Dimension, Paula, sorry but the answer is no. This is a recon mission and could turn ugly fast. You both belong here.

  "You all now have the planetary survey for Bliss in your tacmods. Read up on it. As far as we know the planet is uninhabited – but your visions – and Bees' freescanning – appear to indicate otherwise. Our mission is to contact any Brights that are there, and nurture an official relationship between ConFree and the Brights. A friendly, supportive relationship. We depart tomorrow. Report at 0500 tomorrow morning in the entry hall. Your armor and weapons are already in the starship. Our transport to Bliss will be the tacship Vampire. It's fully cloaked, just like Bird's phantom, just like your A-suits, so we shouldn't be drawing any attention when we show up there. And the Vampire is a recon ship – that's what they do, so we'll have plenty of experienced backup in addition to Bird and Ruthie.

  "Further briefings will be given when we're underway. Best of luck to everyone. Here is where all your training is going to pay off."

  That's what worried me. I was just barely functioning as a psycher, as a telepath. How was I going to communicate effectively with a real Bright? It worried me plenty. And we were soldiers – not diplomats. Nobody had given us any diplomatic training. Well, that part would be up to the Prof, I told myself. I'd just follow orders, and do my best to function as a junior telepath.

  PART II

  GOOD SOUL

  Chapter 5

  The Magic Road

  It was a long star hop to the target. The Luyten Sector was on the other end of the inhabited galaxy from the Crista Cluster. The CS Vampire was a full-fledged starship, very compact but very powerful. Our startrack took us across much of the Outvac, then through the Outvac border sector and into the Gassies. Of course we were in the hole so it didn't much matter what was out there past vac run red, but the startrack traversed Gassies Coalition vac, then Pherdan Federation space, then into the former PPDD, which was now part of the UMC, and finally into the Inners and the UMC itself.

  It took a while to get there. I didn't understand the physics of star hops except that they were difficult to understand. We had time to think. I worried. I felt an increasing dread of the future. Maybe it was the uncertainty; I had no idea what to expect. I prayed it would be peaceful. I had had enough of war and suffering and death. I had seen my closest comrades gunned down before my eyes and the shock and horror of that was enough to last me an immortal lifetime. I didn't want to see any more.

  I wrote to my parents. I hadn't done that in a long time. When I joined the Legion I had assumed I would never see them again – and I was probably right. But I knew I owed them a letter, from time to time. It was like writing to people in another dimension. What can you say? How could they possibly understand my new life? Impossible. And how could I describe it? No – I couldn't. I told them I was well, and happy. I thanked them for raising me. I sent them love. I knew my Mom loved me, and I at least owed her that. I shot it into an outgoing star tracer and figured they would get it in a couple of months.

  I didn’t write to Honeyhair. She said she didn't want any letters. She wanted me to return to her, alive. That's all. She knew perfectly well how dangerous my profession was.

  The Vampire was a good ship. It had a firing range and we refammed ourselves with our weaponry. Arie was right beside me as we shot up the target images with our E's. I glanced over at him. It was too noisy to talk.

  "You watch yourself down there, Richard," he said on the tacnet. Richard was my civilian name. Arie was about the only one who called me Richard.

  "That's your job, Arie," I said. "You watch over me. But take care of yourself, too. Remember Blondie and Honeyhair. We're not single any more. And if we die, they die, too. Right?"

  "Yeah. Keep an eye on the future, Prophet. I'm with you. No heroics, all right?"

  "Better believe it." A new target appeared, and I blasted it.

  Δ

  We come in peace, Ice thought.

  We come in peace, I thought back to her. Send us more D's.

  Send us more D's, she repeated. Don't shoot, I'm just a little girl.

  Don't shoot, I'm just a little girl, I thought back at her, and added, Actually, I'm the big bad wolf. We were at a table in the mess, practicing. And I was getting good. I could hardly believe it.

  "Big bad wolf! That's great, Prophet!" she said. "See, you're getting a lot better. Just concentrate, you'll be all right."

  "You and Bees are so much better than Saka and me that there's no contest," I said.

  "We're all in this together, Prophet. And together, we'll kick ass."

  Δ

  By the time we reached Bliss and the Vampire did its muffled exit from stardrive, my adrenalin was filling my veins and my heart was pumping wildly. We slid into a distant orbit, fully cloaked, to check out the target from a safe distance. We shot a cloaked autorecon towards the planet and awaited the results. Delta was in full armor, helmets secured to our waists. We were in the recon bay, waiting to board the Ruthie, our Phantom. The Prof and Doggie were anxiously awaiting the results of the recon. There was an enlarged view of Bliss on a large d-screen. What a beautiful world. That's what I thought every time I got a view of a new world. Dayside glowed like a gigantic pearl, a pinkish cream, covered with lustrous clouds. Once the autorecon broke through the clouds, we were rewarded with stunning views of a lush, fresh green world, trackless forests of strange tall trees, great dark mountain ranges, grassy plains, silvery rivers reflecting the sun, huge green oceans sparkling in the dawn, gentle rains washing it all down. What a miracle – the galaxy was full of billions of planets like these.

  The autorecon shot along at low altitude and released thousands of eyemotes, and the eyemotes took off on their own to scan their assigned sectors for any sign of life. We settled back in our webbed seats to wait. I opened a dox. Maybe that would calm me down.

  "I know she's there," Bees said quietly. "I know it."

  Blackie wandered over to me and nuzzled my armored fingers. He was in his doggie A-vest, and equipped with an individual cloaking unit. He was certainly the most high-tech wolf in the galaxy. The Prof had approved his presence on the mission. From what I heard, the techs had worked wonders with him, and he could be a big asset for us if we took advantage of his abilities.

  We waited a good long time. Then it happened.

  "Look at that," the Prof said. "This planet is not uninhabited." The view from one of the eyemotes showed what looked like a small starcraft hiding under camo in heavy brush just inside a ragged tree line.

  "Camo," Doggie said. "Why don't they use cloaking?" Our sensors had no trouble defeating active camo. The eyemote outlined the craft that was covered by huge camo tarps.

  "Maybe they can't afford it," the Prof replied.

  "Identification," the auto recon stated, "Civilian Star yacht P.S. Golden Summer. This craft is listed by the UMC authorities as reported missing, presumed starjacked, early 383. The ID pulse has been disabled, but she's on the watch list."

  "Pirates," the Prof said. "What a perfect site for a pirate or slaver base. Nobody's been here in a hundred years. And nobody is likely to show up here, except crazies like us."

  "What's that?" Scout asked. There was movement outside
the camoed craft. It looked like an Outworlder male in ragged civilian clothing, wearing an A-vest and hauling an SG. He headed into the ship, brushing aside a flap of camo.

  "Over there," Doggie said. Another eyemote had spotted a second male, on the opposite side of the ship, inside the forest. He appeared to be a Cyrillian, urinating against a tree, an SG dangling from his shoulder. He also had an A-vest, and was clad in well-worn hiking gear.

  "Sentries," Doggie said. "No cloaking. Perhaps they're not worried about being bothered. Or perhaps they’re a low-tech outfit."

  "I want to learn a great deal more before we drop," the Prof said. "Why are they here? Yes, it's a good hideout, but what do they do here? It's a long long way from any juicy targets. Let's give the eyemotes a bit more time. But first, send one into that ship."

  The eyemote floated into the ship through the open entry ramp. It had been a luxurious personal ship, a luxury yacht for some poor fool who had ventured too far from home. The pirates were not much for housekeeping – the aisles were littered with trash. The eyemote was about the size of a mote of dust and was invisible to the naked eye. It floated into the cockpit – one scruffy young hostile had his feet up on the instrument console, watching a sex vid on a little d-screen. Along the main aisle and into a large plush salon, a fourth pirate, covered with tattoos, was sitting at a table eating hot rations. The eyemote labeled him H 04.

  Further into the ship the eyemote slid between a sealed door and hovered up near the ceiling, revealing an ugly scene. A female Mocain was bending over a luxury bed that contained a pale young naked female, face down, wrists tied behind her, legs strapped to the bedposts. It was clear from her skin's faint glow that she was a Bright.

  "This is so much fun," the Mocain girl said, gleefully. The eyemote recorded the sound clearly. The Mocain was bald and had no eyebrows. Her ears were covered with silver earrings. She was wielding a shockrod in one hand, speaking to a male pirate who stood beside her. He was of uncertain ethnicity but had long dirty hair and was unshaven.