The Forever Fight: The Forever Series Book 3

by Craig A. Robertson

  “I wish there were more that we could do,” Lornot said with clear pain in her voice, “but—”

  Amanda delicately raised a hand. “You've been most kind. We wish you the best in your eternal quest for inner peace.”

  With that, we walked out of the room. Luckily Toño remembered how to return to Wrath, so there was no anticlimax after Mandy's superb last words. We left with real class. It was almost worth it. No. It wasn't even close. I'd never felt so hopeless in my life.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The trip back to Mandy's worldship was instantaneous. That was well and good, as none of us were in a chatty mood. We were too depressed and too dejected to chat. No words were adequate, none captured our pain, and none could be helpful. I promised to keep her informed. I agreed to fly to her ship every other day, if only to be seen, and then pop back home. Once the fighting began, I'd come daily. If I failed to visit on time, she could reasonably conclude we'd been defeated. That way, for what little it was worth, Mandy would have a day or two to prepare for the other shoe.

  The trip back to Azsuram was not immediate. After the worldship fleet faded out, the view outside Wrath remained the uniform gunmetal grey it was during a space fold. I asked Manly what was up. Was there a mechanical problem?

  “No, Form,” he said deferentially, “I wish to speak with you before we arrive to your home. Now seemed the most opportune moment. I hope you do not object.”

  I did object, but what was there to say? My crazy cube wanted to talk, so talk we would.

  “I have a plan that might just save your planet from undeserved destruction. It would quite likely result in no harm to you or any of your people.”

  That sounded too good to be true, especially from Manly. His agenda was his own. After a pause, I asked what his plan was.

  “If we intercept the Berrillians while they are still in warped space, I might be able to destroy their ships. One of the technical difficulties with those warp bubbles is their instability. If I hit them with a gamma ray laser blast just behind the leading edge of their bubble, the resultant deformation might cause the bubble to collapse into a superheated plasma. They would be fried to a crisp before they knew what hit them.”

  “Wrath,” I said. I stopped calling him the more casual “Manly” when I realized he was loco. “We do not know for certain it is the Berrillians who are in those bubbles. Just because they used to transport themselves that way does not mean it has to be them. We might fry a bunch of interstellar ice cream men.”

  “If, however, we wait until they drop into normal space, there is great doubt in my mind that I can successfully defend your family.”

  “I'm not firing on whoever's in those bubbles until I know for absolute certain they mean us harm—period!”

  “Form, they're unlikely to drop into normal space one at a time so I can pick them off. That would be tactically unwise.”

  “I said I'm not firing on what is hopefully a bunch of peaceful travelers. End of discussion. Take us home.”

  “How about I pick off just one? Perhaps I could determine their identity from the wreckage.”

  “After they were swallowed by a million-degree-plasma cloud then hit real space faster than light speed? Really? You're that good that you can analyze singed molecular dust?”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “Possibly not. Though, in defense of my secondary plan, we don't know that's how they would end up.”

  “Any chance, however remote, that any matter could survive such a cataclysmic deceleration? Hmm?” I was really beginning to dislike my ride. He didn't respond. “I didn't think so. Take us home now. That's a direct order.”

  I felt slightly queasy, which I usually did when Manly folded space. Our dock on Azsuram appeared outside the viewport. It was a sight for my sad, tired eyes. Almost immediately, a teeming mass of people engulfed the pad. No surprise. This was the single most important return Wrath had ever made. I stepped out first and the phalanx of Kaljaxians, headed by Sapale, fell into a dead silence. I could only shake my head, then lower it. Sapale turned to her people and said there would be a council meeting in ten minutes. She waved her arms to herd them away. Once she was certain the crowd was receding, she ran to my side and wrapped me in her arms. She even gathered Toño into our lamentation hug.

  Without a word, she pointed us both in the direction of the rapidly filling meeting hall. I know she was, if anything, more crushed by my failed mission than anyone else. But, she kept her grief in check and guided us to the table at the head of the meeting room. I must have sat down because a few minutes later, she asked me formally for a full report, I was seated in my usual chair. The air was still; not a soul breathed. The sickly silence was like a massive sword stroke to the skull.

  “The defense of Azsuram is left to us alone.” That was all I could manage. My mind was numb, and all the emotion programmed into my head was gone. I was nothing. I had failed those who mattered to me the most, and my failure would likely cost each and every one of them their lives.

  “We met with the Deavoriath from Oowaoa,” Toño rallied to say, “but they elected not to provide us any additional aid.”

  Someone yelled, “How could they just let us die?”

  Another angry voice cried out, “They are lower than falzorn!”

  Still another desperate protest rang out, “Let's attack them before we die.”

  A chorus of cheers boomed in favor of futile vengeance.

  That brought Sapale to her feet. Arms raised high above her head, she shouted for all she was worth, “Silence, people! Be seated!”

  I doubt anyone else could have pulled it off, but every Kaljaxian suddenly shut up and sat down like they'd rehearsed it a million times.

  She waited to make certain her control remained strong, then she turned to me. “Is there no chance of a second appeal with the Deavoriath?” I shook my head and wished I could become invisible. “So be it! Citizens of Azsuram, we built our home here with the help of no one. We never needed help from others, and we will not require it now.” She raised her voice gradually to capture and inspire her people. God, she was a great leader.

  “We will stand as the great civilization we have become in so short a time. Remembering our heritage of strength and courage, we will defy anyone to take from us that which is rightfully ours!”

  A scattering of yelps rose from the crowd, urging her on.

  “We have great technology, great skills in war, and even greater wills. We are indomitable! We shall not be abused, trodden upon, or made victims by any race! I pity those who would attack Azsuram, those foolish children. The last vision our enemies will see with their dying eyes is the smile on our face as we crush the lives from their hearts with our boot heels! They will die poorly, beaten and disgraced. And when their kin learn of their treacherous, cowardly act, they will die unlamented.”

  Cheers rang from everyone, including me. We all shot to our feet and pumped our arms, chanting a battle cry loud enough to be heard by whoever hid in those warped-space bubbles.

  “Our enemy will be more than defeated and more than dismembered by our axes. They will be forgotten by those who once loved them. Then…then my friends, no, my family, we will gather back in this hall! We will celebrate so wildly that all the gods of Old Dominion will make flight to Azsuram! They will make haste to our celebration so they can boast that they were here when the children of Kaljax were at their greatest!”

  The crowd rushed forward. With coordinated care, they encircled Sapale and reached to touch her shoulders. Tears flooded down everyone's faces, and I wished that I, too, could be Kaljaxian in that moment.

  Sapale once again raised her arms. “There is no time for this now, my family. Now, we prepare. Tomorrow we fight. The next day, we feast!” The shouts of affirmation were deafening. Above their cheers, however, she was heard by all to say, “Return to your seats. Peace, my cherished ones. Sit and listen. We must set our defenses. For us to win, we must fight as one.”

  Rel
uctantly, slowly, everyone sat back down. For the next half hour, Sapale read lists of assignments and duties. We had drilled endlessly of late, but she wanted to calmly make certain everyone was on the same page. At the end, she called for questions and comments, but she did so in a tone that clearly discouraged them. The session broke up, and soon she and I were alone at the front of the room.

  “How did they justify not helping us?” Sapale asked with obvious scorn.

  “They said releasing themselves on the universe would be worse than any damage the Berrillians could do.”

  She looked at me, incredulous. “That's such a lame excuse for an excuse. Our entire population wiped out, the humans almost certainly next, and they think there's any worse possible outcome?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “That what they said. They isolated themselves a long time ago to focus on improving who they were because of their many perceived sins.”

  “Awfully full of themselves, the pigs!”

  “Hopefully we'll survive this and learn what they did that was so bad. Maybe we'll accept their reasoning.”

  She spat on the floor, a high insult among her kind. “If we survive, I hope to never hear their name again.”

  “I didn't mention it back at the meeting, but there is another option.”

  “Yes. We could tuck our vestigial tails between our legs and run home.” She glared accusingly at me. “That's your alternative, isn't it?”

  “Hey, I'm on your side, brood's-mate. It is an option. If we crammed as many people as possible in the cube, we might get everyone to Kaljax before the warp bubbles materialize.”

  “Abandon this,” she pointed out the open door, “and all of our dreams, because something went bump in the night? I couldn't live with myself if we did. I'd much rather die fighting than try to limp forward as a coward.”

  “We could allow others to make their own decisions. At least if we offer them—”

  “What?” She was hot. “The chance to delay their deaths at the hands of warriors bent on death and destruction? After the humans, wouldn't the Berrillians turn on Kaljax? That planet is just as ill-prepared to defend itself as we are—less, in fact. They don't have your damn cube.”

  She was right. If conquest was the goal of the group racing toward us, the local systems would fall quickly. One could choose where they'd die, but survival was not a long-term option.

  “You're right, as usual,” I said, stroking her forehead. “Let's check with the kids, then I better be going. I want to face the incoming fleet far from here. There's just a chance they'll leave Azsuram alone if they bag their Deavoriath prize.”

  An hour later, I was back on board Wrath, ready to find out for certain who our new guests were. Sapale and JJ accompanied me to the ship. We hugged; she kissed me. I stepped in and closed the wall behind me. I didn't know how last moments together worked or which words were good last words. It didn't look like I'd ever learn. We knew we loved each other. I guessed that was enough.

  I instructed Wrath to put us directly in the flightpath of the incoming fleet. I wanted to start by basically daring them to run though me without turning or dropping out of warp. I wouldn't if I were them, but it was the best plan I could come up with. It took Manly a few attempts to place us where I wanted us. It was hard for him to get exact reads on the craft while they were still inside the bubbles.

  Eventually, he estimated they were traveling between three and four times the speed of light, maybe a million kilometers per second. We positioned ourselves a hundred million klicks ahead of them and hunkered down. That would give them around a minute to react to our presence. Manly believed they possessed the ability to scan the space around them, but he honestly didn't know if they could. They'd detected his attack on the Uhoor, but that display was a lot more prominent than a tiny semi-metal cube sitting dead in space. We were about to find out.

  The only visual evidence that there was something out there was the holes in the pattern of stars. Whatever was eclipsed by the bubbles was black, so I could vaguely see them approach. Twenty seconds to go. There were a lot of holes in the star pattern. A case of jumpy nerves began set in. Ten seconds out, the view screen was basically blacked out. Yikes!

  “Fire across their bow,” I said louder than I intended.

  A flash of light shot across the gap between us.

  “Form, they appear to have shifted course. It's slight, but I'm certain.” There was a pause. “Yes, they are spreading out to miss us. Not by much, but they neither intend to drop into real space or attack us.”

  “Why? It makes no sense. If they've come all this way to fight, why not fight?” A thought struck me. “Extrapolating their path, are they heading toward Azsuram or the place Wrath faced the Uhoor?”

  “The latter. They are not headed toward Azsuram directly.”

  “Al,” I shouted. He was along again, so I had someone watching my back. “Prepare a summary of what's happened since we left home. We'll materialize just long enough for you to send it to Sapale.”

  “Done,” was his quick response.

  “Wrath, place us one hundred kilometers above Azsuram's north pole for one second, then to the exact spot you fired on the Uhoor.”

  Two seconds later, he said, “We are where I killed the last of the Uhoor.”

  “How long until the fleet arrives?”

  “Perhaps five minutes. Maybe a bit less.”

  “Al, put a flat membrane between us and the incoming ships. Make it as big as you can, one thousand meters away.”

  “Done.”

  “Form,” said Manly, “I have access to the membrane generators. I could have raised them for you.”

  “But I asked Al to. Get over it. Let me know the moment they drop out of warp space.”

  It was quiet for a few minutes, then all hell broke loose.

  “Seven hundred thirty-eight Berrillian warships have entered real space and are decelerating quickly.”

  “Can you confirm their identity? Are you positive it's them?”

  “Yes,” Manly said. “Their ships are painted the same ridiculous colors they were when I chased them out of the galaxy. The general configurations match also.”

  “Hail them, Wrath.”

  “No response,” Manly announced after a few seconds.

  “Keep trying. They have to hear us.”

  “Form, it's demeaning to continue signaling ships that ignore us. Please don't ask me to do that.”

  “Fine,” I snapped. “Al, you continue to hail them. Tell them we are Wrath and we wish them no harm.”

  “Done, Cap…wait! They've fired on us. Some form of energy wave.”

  “The beams struck the membrane and were deflected,” Manly said.

  “What were they?” I asked. “Gamma ray lasers?”

  “No. I'm currently analyzing the beams. They're of a nature I have never witnessed. Pure energy, but they’re not acting like any I'm familiar with.”

  Great, just freaking great! A new form of energy was being used against us. They couldn't use something simple like oversized peashooters, could they?

  “Al,” I called out, “any ideas?”

  “None, Captain. I can't imagine what those were.”

  Sound does not travel in the vacuum of space. So, whatever hit us next wasn't an explosion or a result of the beams hitting the membrane. The cube shook like a giant was outside beating it with a sledgehammer.

  “Report!” I yelled.

  “I am analyzing, Form. That was some type of wave…No!”

  “No, what? Report!”

  “We were struck by gravity waves, Form. Somehow, and I shouldn't have thought it possible, they are able to generate directional gravity waves.”

  “What does that even mean?” I shouted. The cube rattled even more powerfully.

  “Damage report!”

  “None, Form. Are you familiar with the concept of gravity waves?”

  “Yes. Two massive objects bend space-time around them if they orbit closely.
This shows up as gravity waves.”

  “A bit simplistic, but correct,” Manly replied. “Somehow, they have harnessed that technology.”

  “And it can pass though the membranes?”

  “Captain,” Al interrupted, “the waves didn't go around the membranes to strike us. They must deform the membrane. Recall, please, that the membrane is a congruity placed in space-time. Its uniformity allows little to pass though. Gravitational waves would, I think, deform the membrane without interrupting or distorting it.”

  “A new series,” Manly said, “has been launched.”

  “Did the shields hold?”

  “Affirmative.”

  The Berrillians were testing the membrane! They had no clue what it was and were using a bunch of tools to probe it. Son of a gun! I hoped they didn't have a tool that could affect the membrane. It was our main hope for survival.

  “Sir…” Al said.

  Before he could speak, the cube pitched side to side like it was a chew toy in a big dog's mouth. I managed to stay on my feet, but a human—or a Kaljaxian—would have been seriously injured. Mother of chaos! Not good.

  “Report, either of you!”

  “The Berrillians switched to a higher energy gravity wave set,” responded Manly.

  “No shit, Sherlock!” was my frustrated reaction. Wrath, open fire! Hit them with everything you got and then a bunch more.”

  Laser beams vaulted from our hull. Two of the closer ships exploded with the first strike. Outstanding! We could at least bloody their noses. Only what, only seven hundred thirty-six to go?

  A series of less powerful gravity distortions whacked the cube.

  “Form, the enemy is able to bend the laser beam with their gravity waves. They can effectively deflect them.”

  Crap! “One hundred percent?” I asked.

  A few flashes on the view screen suggested the answer was no.

  “No. And deflected beams have randomly struck secondary targets.”

  “Keep shooting! Fire some beams randomly. Maybe they'll deflect them in our favor.”

  “Captain,” Al reported, “the enemy fleet is splitting up. I believe they want to circle around past the membrane.