The cameras panned the marchers. Their faces were hidden by the dark green faceplates. They could have been robots. The massive column of armored troopers stretched into the distance. Thousands, certainly. A very impressive show of force. Overhead, flights of armored aircars shot past – five, then ten, twenty, thirty – more. And more.
"I thought their military was just set up to control the population," Doggie said. "What the hell is this? Those aren't Systie A-suits. Where did they come from?"
"These A-suits are brand-new," Prof commented. "We have not seen them before."
"What about those battle rifles? What are they?"
"Also new. Galactic Info has never seen them before."
"How about the aircars?" Arie asked.
"Based on the Systie Pterosaur design," Bird responded. "But a new model – looks to be an update."
"I thought these people were broke. Where did this army come from?"
"Obviously someone has been helping them."
'Well, they can't have trained all these troopers already, can they?"
"They've got plenty of warm bodies, but you're right. Chances are they are mostly inexperienced. No matter how sharp they look."
"We could wipe out this entire column with one pass from a phantom," Bird said.
"True," the Prof replied. "But when we meet them in battle, they're not going to be lined up neatly for your convenience."
A flight of needle-nosed fighter craft shot overhead, trailing sonic booms.
"Damn! What was that?"
"Those are new," Bird said. "We know nothing about their capabilities. Not yet."
"Where was all this stuff manufactured?" Ice asked.
"Galactic Info is scrambling to find that out. Likely it was manufactured right in the Pegal Stelcom – either Nimbos or Yidah."
"THE PEOPLE'S COMMUNE IS UNITED AND RESOLUTE AND WILL DEFEND THE REVOLUTION TO THE DEATH!" the speakers boomed out over the scene. "THE MERCENARY CRIMCON HORDES ARE FRANTICALLY PREPARING FOR WAR BUT THE PEGAL STELCOM WILL RAIN DOWN DESTRUCTION ON THEIR WORLDS IN JUSTIFIABLE WRATH! HAIL THE COMMUNE!"
The crowds lining the roadway lifted their arms weakly and shouted, "Hail the Commune!"
"What’s a Crimcon?" Arie asked.
"Come on, Arie, didn't you study history?" I asked. "The CrimCon is the Criminal Conspiracy. That's what the Systies used to call ConFree."
"Ah yes. I knew that. So we're mercenaries?"
"Mercenary hordes, Arie. Hordes."
"The preparing for war part is accurate," the Prof said. "But so are they."
It had started raining over the march. A cold and bitter rain, it appeared. The sky was darkening. The troops kept marching, ignoring the rain. Hordes, I thought. Endless hordes, from the bowels of Hell. A rainshade slid into place over the reviewing stand, but the people lining the streets had no shelter.
"IF THE CRIMCON SAVAGES DARE TO ATTACK US THEY WILL DIE FAR FROM HOME IN A HOSTILE LAND! EVERY HAND WILL BE RAISED AGAINST THEM! THE PEOPLE'S COMMUNE IS UNITED AND RESOLUTE AND WILL DEFEND THE REVOLUTION TO THE DEATH! HAIL THE COMMUNE!"
"Hail the commune!" We could barely hear them over the roar of the downpour. What must it be like to be one of them, standing there in that icy rain, waiting for the damned parade to end? Did they really believe the propaganda? Would they fight us if we appeared? But they knew only what the government told them. If alien soldiers dropped from the sky, would they fight to defend their families, the women and kids? Or would they welcome the end of the cursed dictatorship? I had no idea. I sent a silent prayer to Deadman, thanking him for making me a ConFree national.
Δ
"Here it is, gang," Ice said. "It's on the Legion Tacmap. Damn it. Oh, damn it."
Ice and Saka and Bees and I were in the Bright embassy cafeteria, having breakfast in preparation for another busy day. I had just sat down with them and hadn't even had time to activate my news scanner. I set it up and sipped at my morning calansi. The front page of the Legion Tacmap featured an action scene from the recent Unity meeting, showing a whole slew of overstuffed, bemedalled high-ranking military overlords, in a bewildering array of colorful uniforms, embracing each other enthusiastically, seemingly overjoyed almost to tears, raising glasses on high to toast the event. The grim headline got right to the point:
SLAVE STATES UNITE!
Special from the Legion Tacmap. Harmony, Asumara – CGS 385/11/11, SS 1517/15/15 – In a serious and completely unexpected major political development, the three Gulf slave states today announced they are going ahead with plans to unite the three nations under one government. The announcement was made by the heads of state of the Asumara Holy Commune, the Gulf Union and the People's Egalitarian Stellar Commune. The result culminated the Unity Conference that has been ongoing in Asumara. These talks are yearly affairs that have never before made any progress because of the deep enmity that has always existed between the three slave states. In past years, delegates traded insults and threats while trying to remain awake through hour-long speeches by the heads of state about economic development. This year it was different. The new nation has been dubbed the Gulf Stellar Commune. A power-sharing Politburo will initially set up the new government and unite the three armed forces.
ConFree Ministry of Interstellar Affairs officials privately admitted they were blindsided and stunned by the development, although they would not be quoted for the record. Galactic Information sources refused comment.
This is a deeply troubling development for all free states. Presumably the success of the unity talks may have been a consequence of the recent revamping of military power in the region. The Legion Tacmap has been reporting on the crash military modernization programs now underway in all three states. It is still unclear what prompted these efforts, or where the funding is coming from, but Asumara, the Gulf Union and the Pegal Stelcom are now united and the new Gulf Stellar Commune has a strong and increasingly modern stellar military. The new GSC's neighbors had best beware.
The Legion Tacmap expects the new Politburo members to turn on each other shortly in a bloody struggle for power from which one all-powerful leader will likely emerge. The Legion Tacmap is investigating what prompted this unlikely and unholy unification of slave states. Whether or not Interstellar Affairs and Galactic Information will comment, the Legion Tacmap will dig out the truth and reveal all to our readers.
Of course none of this was news to us. Galactic Info had briefed us on the conference and the unlikely outcome in advance. Still, it was unsettling to see it confirmed publicly. Up until that moment I had hoped that Galactic Info had got it wrong. Slave States Unite! Great. Just what we don't need.
"So we've got one big, nasty united slave state with a strong modern military instead of three weak, mutually hostile slave states with outdated military forces," Ice said.
"Plus Satan," Bees added.
"Should be fun, gang," Saka said. "At least we're not going to die for the PJ's."
I didn't say anything. We hadn't heard about any decisions from ConFree about what we were, or were not, going to do in the Gulf, but I think I knew. The Brights were certainly going to war. The embassy was teeming with activity. We knew that Bright starships loaded with troopers were arriving at Stormhaven daily, presumably sliding into orbit around the planet or maybe even deploying to wherever the Brights wanted them to deploy. We had plenty of eyemotes and probes watching over Stormhaven. The Brights did not seem concerned about our spies in the vac. There were no more Bright attacks on slaver ships or bases either. They had more important things to do, now.
We believed the Brights knew exactly what they were doing and probably had ID'd the primary target, if there was a primary target. But they weren't telling – yet.
None of us were having any more chron visions. I was not sure why that was, but thought maybe it was because we were totally consumed with the thought of being plunged into another war, with a powerful – maybe all-powerful – adversary.
Δ
Wes
ter's hand rested lightly on the steering handgrip as the aircar cut its way through sheets of heavy rain. The car was on auto, locked on to the destination, but it was a stormy day and the car shook from wild gusts of air. Wester could have sat back and amused himself with a d-screen but he felt better knowing that he could react instantly should anything go wrong. He was at medium altitude and there was no other traffic so it was unlikely that anything would go wrong. Still, he remained alert. The rain was hitting the armored windshield like hail but the deflectors vaporized the drops instantly and gave Wester a clear view. The sky was completely overcast with angry dark wet clouds. A line of purple mountains appeared slowly through the rains and the aircar sought higher altitude. The destination showed on the routemap on the dash. Wester wondered what it was all about, but he knew better than to ask questions of Tara. She'd let him know when she was ready and not before.
Wester parked in the big aircar lot of the Snowline Highlands Resort. It was the off season and raining miserably as well so the lot was pretty much empty – only a few lonely cars scattered here and there. The rain slowed as Wester got out of his car. A typical Quaba day, he thought. Wet and cold. Very cold, this far up in the mountains. He snapped his waterproof hoodie up over his head and set off towards the resort. It was not far off, a spacious low-slung rambling series of buildings partially set into the earth to try to blend into the environment. Wester had sampled the place before and had been stunned by the simple luxury that the hotel offered. However, the primary attraction here was the view.
He found Tara on the viewing terrace that wrapped around half of the hotel. It was a huge expanse, designed to accommodate hundreds, but now there was only one person there, just Tara, looking out at the view, ignoring the rain, clad in a coldcoat and a Legion field hat with the flaps turned down. Now what, Wester thought.
"Hello, Tara." The rain was fading slowly. The view was spectacular. The hotel was built at the top of a towering mountain ridge, close to a sheer drop to the valley below.
"Hello, Wester." Her voice was dreamy – almost a whisper.
"Enjoying the weather?"
"No."
"Been here long?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you cold?"
"Yes."
"All right, why don't we go into the resort and warm up?"
"No."
"Well all right. Let's stay here."
"Yes."
It was cold as a bitch, Wester thought. He could see his breath in the air. The sky was totally socked in – heavy dark clouds scudding overhead, threatening more rain. He forced himself to look out at the view. He had done that before and now he again felt that same, overwhelming, hopeless thrill. It was the same thrill he got when looking up into a clear night sky, spangled with an infinity of milky stars. All of Quaba City was out there, the lights already coming on because of the darkened sky. The city was just a soft glow on the horizon, but the starport was glittering hot lights, even through the rain and the mists. Ours, Wester thought. Ours. We took it, seized it, a raw, savage planet, a hopeless environment, endless rain, ice, freezing cold. Two stars. Almost impossible to survive in this land. We did it. We made it ours. Those dark skies – ours! The rain, the cold – ours! And all ConFree grew from here. We made it ours, we made it work. The System came after us, but we fought them off. And chased them right out of the Outvac. Endless war, the Black March, the immortal dead. We were afraid of nothing, in those days. Nothing. We knew it was victory or death – there was no choice.
"See that?" Tara asked.
"I see it."
"We've got to defend it."
"Yes."
"I've been talking with God."
"I didn't know you were religious, Tara."
"Well, maybe it was Deadman. I don't know. But when you look out at that view somebody talks to you."
"Yes. I know that."
"There's no escape, Wester. We've got to go to war. Again."
"We decided the Gulf was not worth the life of a single Legion trooper. Didn't we?"
"Yes. But things change."
"How? Why? Because the B's are going after some ancient enemy in our universe? Let them do it. Why do we have to get involved?"
"We’re already involved. It was their enemy that sent that asteroid hurtling towards Earth. Ignore that, huh?"
"We don't know anything about this conflict yet, Tara. The Brights haven't given us any details yet. All we've seen so far are some spirits from D2. How do you know we can believe the Brights? And what are you going to tell the Council? We're going to war with Satan? Where is he? We haven't seen any Darks yet. And the Demons are nowhere in sight. And the slave states have not attacked us, have they?"
"No. You're right. All that is correct. But we've got to be ready. The Brights are sure as hell getting set for one big, nasty brawl. And so is the Gulf Commune. And the Darks and the Demons as well, if we can believe the B's. And we're going to be right in the middle of it. We've got to be ready to go, from a standing start."
"All right. Agreed."
"The Brights stood by our side, in Galinta. In Veda. They saved our asses."
"True."
"Bleed for ConFree and ConFree will bleed for you. Right?"
"Absolutely."
"Look out there. Can you see the missiles, falling? I can. We've got to stop that from happening. Have your prophets had any interesting dreams lately?"
"No. I'm afraid not."
"Too bad. They might prove useful, at this point. But we're running out of time. We must act now."
"What are you going to do?"
"Full emergency mobilization. That's the first step. War Plan Crimson Shield. Activate all defensive systems around all major targets. Launch all assets. When the surprise attack comes we will be in place and will react the instant the enemy exits stardrive. Like we did on Veda. We will counter the missiles before they hit the targets. The population will charge into the shelters as soon as the sirens sound."
"You know we can't do that indefinitely. It's impossible. Everybody will be worn out within a week. Are you going to declare martial law before we are at war? Slow down, Tara. What are you going to tell the Council? That we're allying with God against Satan? They'll recommend you take a little vacation, won’t they?"
"I'm going to tell them exactly what's happening, Wester. The Brights will be going to war with the Darks. Right here – in our universe, in our galaxy. And the Gulf Stellar Commune will be allied with the Darks. And the Demons. And we will – we must – be allied with the Brights. Call it God against Satan, light against dark, or free states against slave states. Whatever you want. Whether you choose to believe in God or Satan, or not to believe, it doesn't matter. This war is coming at us, like it or not, and all we can do is do the right thing. That's all. Yes, we need a lot more info before we can react properly. Go to the Brights, now. Tell them if they want our help they must trust us, and brief us. We need to know who the enemy is. Now! What is their strength? Where are they? What will be the battlefield? Tell them they stood by our side in battle and now we will stand by their side, but we must know who the enemy is, what their intention is, what our target is, and how to fight them. Then I can go to the Council with something that makes sense. Then we can plan. And go on the offensive rather than waiting for the enemy to attack us. Tell Breakblade the Director General wants him to brief the Director of the ConFree Legion, soon as poss. Dragon is standing by. Tell him all ConFree is standing by, our entire armed forces, ready to march, all of Fleetcom, ready to lift. But tell him nothing can happen until he briefs us in detail." Her words were edged in ice.
"All right. Fair enough. We certainly need that. Then we can decide what to do."
"We do the right thing. That's what we do." She shuddered, and held herself tightly against an icy breeze. The rain had stopped, and a sparkly mist was sliding past them.
"Fine," Wester said. "Can we go inside now? My hands are frozen."
"Sure. Except I can't feel my fee
t. Promise to help me if I fall over?"
"Sure. I'll do that."
"Thank you, Wester."
She's a raving maniac, Wester thought. But she's our raving maniac.
PART V
IN THE HANDS OF GOD
Chapter 15
The Ambassador from Satan
"Dear Lord, please show us the way and guide us in safety to ultimate victory over Your enemies," Bees said. "We pray for courage and strength. Please protect all of Delta Research, all our comrades, all of the ConFree Legion, all our young soldiers, as we enter the Cauldron to confront Satan. We fight for You, O Lord. May Your will be done forever. Amen." We were clustered around that massive wall screen in Conference Room A, leaning forward in our airchairs, and it was dead silent except for Bees' earnest prayer. We were stunned by the images of the target. Vulcan glowed like a red hot coal, streaked with inky black sections that contrasted with the flickering volcanic-orange, partially-molten surface. Burning rivers of lava sliced through continents of black igneous rock. The thick smoky atmosphere was saturated with poisonous chemicals, and was not breathable.
"What a hellhole," Doggie said in wonder. We had the view from an eyemote. Thousands – maybe tens of thousands – of eyemotes were dropping into Vulcan's evil atmosphere as we watched. The enemy would be completely unaware of these microscopic intruders. The B's had briefed us on Vulcan. My heart was pounding. This was our future. This was where we would be going. The planet was in the furthest reaches of Gulf Stellar Commune vac, in former Pegal Stelcom territory.
Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) Page 31
