Reverend Johnny sat on his knees, dusted snow and mud from the thighs of his white winter suit, and said, “Praise the Lord, General, I did not realize that I stood on such shaky ground!”
“You’re welcome,” Brewer answered. “I’m thinking they’re going to stay out there and have that big ugly thing slam its fist and-wait a second. Shaky ground?”
Johnny cocked a smile and noted, “You have the twinkle of inspiration in your eye.”
“Reverend, get the mortar teams over here and load up on WP.”
“You plan to melt them?”
“Awe, gee, Rev, you want me to explain it to you? GET MOVING!”
Reverend Johnny, properly motivated, hurried to gather the men and their equipment.
In the meantime, a soldier approached General Brewer holding an AT4 missile launcher.
“Sir? What do you think?
Jon shrugged. “It’s a distance but worth a try. I’ll cover you.”
The soldier and the General approached the rim of the rock island. Jon fired from his M4 at two nearby Wraiths; they scattered for non-existent cover.
This bought the soldier time and space to run out onto the snow, kneel, and take aim at the giant. While far away, the thing stood tall.
The missile launched, spewing exhaust rearwards while the warhead raced forward like an oversized flaming arrow. Particularly well-aimed, the shot sped directly for the creature’s slack-jawed face. At the last second, the beast swayed its upper body as if bobbing to the beat in a dance club. The projectile spiraled off into the midnight sun leaving behind a harmless contrail.
Jon and the rocket soldier retreated.
While the Wraiths contemplated their next move, the Vikings and humans continued their battle around the center of the rocky plateau.
A human sharpshooter sniped a Viking officer. In turn, an explosive charge lobbed by one of the aliens obliterated that sharpshooter and injured two other soldiers.
Fink fired from the M208 grenade launcher on his M16. The explosion filled a pair of Vikings with deadly shrapnel.
The Captain paused and took stock of his force. The lines held, but too many red-stained white parkas lay motionless on the ground and many more limped about or cried for medics. Certainly they gave as good as they got, but at this pace even victory might mean the end of their expedition.
“Keep up your fire, boys!” Fink returned to the business of killing.
Back on the western flank facing the Wraiths and their behemoth, mortar rounds lobbed toward the giant, smacking into the ground- the ice — in front of it. The white phosphorous exploded in crackles and clouds of white with burning cores creating a blast of heat.
“C’mon sweetheart,” Brewer mumbled as he watched the gargantuan through his binoculars. “You just know you want to send another tremor our way.”
More rounds hit, exploding like sparklers. A wall of smoke grew in front of the Wraith army, obscuring the giant to its knees. It glared at the humans hiding among the rocks and slung its big fists into the air once again.
Those fists slammed into the ground. Slammed into the ice of the glacier. The same glacier that had swallowed some of Brewer’s men during their trek across the frozen wastes. The same glacier that had been retreating and eroding over the centuries. The same glacier that had been further weakened by several rounds of burning, melting and exploding incendiary shells.
The fists of the giant slammed into and through the ground, its earthquake exploding around its feet like a backfiring bullet. The tremor dissipated, the ice cap collapsed in a big circle. This time Wraiths fell to oblivion.
The giant’s legs sunk into the crumpling surface and it fell with its arms to its side wedged into the ice up to its waistline. Its stoicism disappeared as it became entangled in the subsidence; now a trapped animal.
Jon smiled, pumped a fist, and shouted, “Got you, you mother.”
“Lord in heaven! Look!”
Apparently the Wraiths decided to change tactics, favoring retreat. But the manner in which they departed caused ever witnesses’ jaw to drop.
The remaining creatures-still a significant number-abandoned their oversized walking artillery to its fate and formed a tight group. Each stretched their arms out as if pointing to the sky and then…and then…flew into the air. As they left the ground, their bodies fell apart into wind, forming a spinning cloud, like a gray and white dust storm or cyclone.
That torrid of cloud and wind moved north by northeast, leaving behind the battlefield and heading for the real goal.
Captain Fink’s shout shook Jon from a trance of awe.
“Sir! Sir!
“W-what is it, Captain?”
“It’s the Vikings, sir, they’re bugging out!”
“What?”
Jon rushed to the northern perimeter.
Like the Wraiths, the Vikings decided to continue the race for the ultimate prize, using the distraction of the Wraith’s departure as an opportunity to escape the stalemate.
Packed with gear, their oversized lizards hurried off at a fast trot while motorized tricycles led the way and an infantry rearguard took pot shots at the humans on the rocks.
“Okay, okay,” Jon thought and then focused. “Pack it up! We’re getting out of here!”
“Sir! We have injured,” Fink said.
Jon glanced around and saw at least a dozen fighters too wounded to move.
“Leave them here,” Jon said but before the shock of his order hit home he added, “Keep some supplies and a squad here to cover them. We need to move fast.”
While the Imperials packed, the soldier who had missed with the rocket launcher re-armed and raced across the glacier toward the trapped giant.
It roared as the tiny human approached, but it could not free its legs or arms.
The soldier knelt, took aim, and fired an armor-piercing rocket into the giant’s face.
21. Moot Point
Yesterday, Dr. Maple told Trevor that his son’s brain exhibited extraordinary activity and that its basic structure appeared different-more advanced-than a “normal” brain. Authorizing more tests could yield more answers, but Ashley would not allow it.
Today, he listened to Gordon Knox rambling on with technical jargon and detailed map coordinates to the point that Trevor’s patience boiled over.
“Skip the by-the-numbers crap, Gordon. You only go all technical with me when you’re trying to figure out how to tell me the bad news. Just give it to me already.”
Knox cleared his throat. “Okay, then, I guess we’ll just tough this out. We’ve had to reduce the number of aerial reconnaissance due to a lack of aviation fuel and what few pilots we have are worn out. No tactical air support is available to the field commanders. We’ve kept a couple of fighters on alert in theater in case more Screamers pop up, but that’s it.”
Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “When can they expect re-supply?”
“It’s going to be at least a week; Omar is over-taxing the matter makers as it is. But if we could get a hold of the ones in Columbia…”
“Yeah, yeah I know, I know.”
“Ground patrols now believe that about two thousand Hivvan infantry have mustered in Bladen Lakes State Forest, mainly around the intersections of 701 and 41 by White Lake. We can’t be sure though, it might be a little more.”
Trevor sighed, “So they are reconstituting. Just friggin’ great.”
“Other groups of a thousand here, five hundred there, are forming in a couple of places. Some of them have set up supply caches. It’s just a matter of time before their lines of communication are such that they can reform into their entire corps.”
Trevor said, “And when that happens all they will need is a healthy dose of supplies to march out of our trap and make for Columbia.”
Knox hit him with an alternative possibility.
“Or march forward, right back at Raleigh.”
Trevor shook his head. “That sounds too aggressive for Hi
vvans. They like to play it safe.”
“They’ve had Screamers airborne. They know about Stonewall’s column, they had troops deployed to meet him outside of Dillon. You have to figure that the Hivvan commanders have intel, too. Assuming they haven’t spotted Shepherd’s column, then they’ll think we only have one division in Raleigh. If they have spotted General Shepherd, then they know there are only garrison troops at Raleigh. Either way, it would be a tempting target and a way to stop our advance and put us on defense again.”
Trevor reacted as if hit with an electric shock.
“Jesus Christ! New Winnabow. I’ve been so caught up with my son, I mean, where the Hell is Evan? I sent him and Dante down there three days ago.”
He expected an answer from Knox. Gordon responded with a shrug.
Trevor picked up the phone on the desk and buzzed security.
“Yeah, Wilson, um, how’s the head? Great. Who’s the watch commander down there? Yeah, send him up.”
Stone slammed the phone onto its cradle.
“Okay, go ahead finish it up.”
“Stonewall pushed through and is ready to take the supply point at Dillon at any time. But that’s just going through the motions. After yesterday’s defeat we noticed the lizards weren’t sending convoys through Dillon anymore. They’re counting entirely on Conway to supply that pocket now.”
“Good,” Trevor nodded his head in approval.
“Not so good,” Gordon corrected. “We haven’t gained anything yet. As long as there are supplies rolling in it doesn’t matter where they come from. You have to push through New Winnabow and do it soon, or we’ll be in bad shape.”
Ray Roos knocked and walked in.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?”
“Yeah, Ray, right? Is Evan Godfrey back in town yet?”
Roos glanced around the room, fidgeted, and then answered, “I wouldn’t know, Sir.”
“You wouldn’t know? I thought the Watch Commander coordinated protection duty for all council members. How can you do that if you don’t know if he’s in town?”
“You’re right, Sir, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Yeah, he’s back in town. We had a couple of guys meet him when he arrived.”
“I assume you know where he is, then?” Stone asked.
“Um…Yessir.”
“Get him for me.”
“Um, Sir, he was going to a meeting at his newspaper.”
Trevor glared at Roos. “I don’t care if he’s in a meeting with the Almighty. You grab that toad by the ears and pull him over here. He was supposed to report to me as soon as he got back. If he doesn’t come…” Trevor considered. “If he doesn’t come tell him I’ll be sending some K9s over to fetch him.”
Ray Roos gulped.
“Yes, Sir. I’m hearing you loud and clear, yes I am.”
“Gee, Evan, really nice to see you could join us,” Trevor said as Godfrey walked in to his second-floor office just as Gordon Knox walked out. “Where is Dante?”
“He’s coming back tonight,” Evan said. “We stayed a night in New Winnabow then in Raleigh. He was staying there a little while longer to set up some security stuff.”
“So you arranged for us to pass through?” Trevor led.
“Trevor,” Evan licked his lips. “I know how important this operation is. I understand why you sent me down there. I met with their council. I spent an evening there and walked around that amazing town. You saw it, too. They have a theater. They have classrooms and apprenticeships. They’ve got country doctors who make house calls. At dinner time the town almost shuts down as all the families eat together. Those who don’t have families are invited to a different dinner table each night.”
Trevor, pacing, waived his hand, “Yes Evan, I know. It is peaceful. It is calm. They are so wonderful. But Evan, they don’t have antibiotics, so kids with strep throat may end up dying. Chicken Pox is a life-threatening disease. They don’t have surgeons, Evan. Better not have your appendix burst. What about diagnosing skin cancer before it is too late?”
“Maybe some things in life are worth giving up so that the quality of that life is better.”
“Easy for you to say,” Trevor said. “You’re not a slave in Columbia.”
“The whole time we were there the worst we saw was a Skip Beetle.”
Trevor opened his mouth, ready to bat another volley in the conversation, but he stopped, refocused, and went to the point. “Why are we arguing this? You weren’t sent there as a sociologist. Are they going to allow us to pass, Evan?”
Godfrey went quiet. He licked his lips again, threw his eyes to different spots around the room, and flexed his fingers. Body language spoke the answer he hesitated to say.
The realization of failure swept across Trevor Stone, covering him like a blanket. His eyes glazed over, his pacing stopped, and he slowly — very slowly- eased to the seat behind the desk.
Evan finally said, “They aren’t going to let us pass. Not without a fight. I spoke with their council. They are united in this. No one is going to change their mind. I think they’d rather die than give in.”
“I see,” Trevor mumbled.
“But Trevor, listen, you have to think of this as a chance. A chance to try something new,” Evan tried to persuade. Trevor did not react. “This is a chance to change who we are. So the Hivvans get away this time, so what? It’s a shame about Columbia but instead of forcing your way through New Winnabow maybe we can learn from them.”
“Yes…maybe…”
“Maybe Parsons can tell us how they’ve done it. I’ll be happy to be your ambassador to New Winnabow. It’s amazing what they’ve done down there! Amazing!”
“Amazing…yes.”
“Trevor, I am sorry that I failed. Truly I am. I hope you believe me. You trusted me despite everything we’ve been through, I won’t forget that.”
“Of course not…no.”
“I gave it my best shot. I tried to convince them. But maybe this is a sign. A sign that we can start changing things here so we can be more like them. Thanks for listening, Trevor,” Evan finished. “I think this might be a new leaf in our relationship.”
“Yes…a new leaf.”
Evan smiled, nodded his head, and left the room.
Trevor Stone sat there, in his empty office, alone.
Evan walked out the front door of the estate to the driveway where his Mercedes sedan idled with an Internal Security driver at the wheel. He jumped in and found Ray Roos in the back seat waiting for him.
The car swung about and exited the grounds.
Roos sat there, staring at Evan who finally asked, “What?”
“Are you just something? Sure you are. You are just something.” Roos shook his head in admiration with a smile on his lips.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, now, come on now, I didn’t just fall off the cabbage truck. I know what’s going on in Carolina. You know I hear things. Of course you do. That’s why you like me so much. I hear things that can help you out.”
“And what do you hear these days, Ray?”
“Seems our boss has a decision to make, doesn’t it? He sure does.”
This time Evan shook his head, adding a slight bite to his lip and down cast eyes for the perfect expression of remorse.
Roos grinned. “That’s pretty good. You can almost sell that.”
Evan snapped, “Sell what?”
“Sell the idea that you’re all broken up about this. About how unfortunate it is. I have to tip my hat to you, Mr. Godfrey. You are a piece of work. Yes you are. That’s why I like you so much.”
“It is, well, it is quite dreadful,” Evan stymied. Roos’ ability to see through his act knocked him off balance.
“Dreadful for Stone, sure,” Roos laid it out. “But for you it’s a win-win situation, isn’t it? Yes it is. A win-win.”
Again, Roos showed an uncanny knack for cutting through his charades, putting Evan on the defensive.
“Oh, come on
now,” Roos said. “Are you testing me? Yes you are, aren’t you? You want to see if Ray here has got an eye for this sort of thing. Okay, I’ll play. Stop me when I stumble down the wrong path.”
The sedan followed the lakeside road. The driver showed no interest in the conversation, meaning he was either deaf or he had earned Ray Roos’ trust.
“Stone has to decide, send in the troops to New Winnabow or don’t. If he sends them in you’ve got the Emperor sending humans to kill other humans. I wonder how that will sit with the people. Pictures of bombed-out villagers would make for a nice front page story, wouldn’t it? Of course, that’s assuming the troops follow those orders. General Shepherd, he might not take to shooting up a village. He might just tell Stone to shove it. I suppose you never know. Point is, if he sends the troops in Stone will end up looking like a real honest-to-goodness Emperor; a real nasty one. That weakens his support.”
Evan chuckled dismissively. “He’s not going to send any troops in there. Even he isn’t that cold-blooded. Why, the political fall out would be enormous. He’ll pull back and the war will be on hold for a couple of months. That’s the way I’d bet.”
“Now that’s just as good,” Roos unnerved Godfrey even more by showing a firm grasp of the situation and the potential outcomes. “Because if little New Winnabow can stand up to mighty Trevor Stone, then anyone can. I’m sure people in those farming villages will remember New Winnabow the next time their crops are divided up and sent out of town. Maybe they’ll just say ‘no’ and tell Trev to stick it. Why just about every little ‘burgh that has a gripe will see it as their chance to break away. Might end up in a civil war, but no matter what happens my guess is that a certain suave politician might be able to smooth things over. Probably by promising elections or representation or something fancy like that. What do you think?”
Evan sat silent, his eyes locked on Roos, his mouth clamped tight. Roos winked.
When he did finally speak, Evan’s lips barely parted. “I suppose that if something like that were to happen then, yes, someone with good negotiating skills could fix it. But that’s all speculation.”
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