The Heirs of Earth

by Daniel Arenson

  Everything went black.

  "Ma'am, we have to pull up, we—"

  Lights flashed.

  Coral was tugging on the yoke, cursing.

  Mist rolled around them, and tree branches shattered against their hull.

  Leona's eyes fluttered.

  I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry, Earth.

  "Commodore!"

  She reached out a shaky hand.

  Her husband smiled.

  Her baby laughed in her arms.

  I wanted to sail forbidden seas . . .

  They slammed into mud. They stormed between the trees, engines sputtering, until all the world was soil and water and wood and raging fire.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Emet watched the Nantucket fall toward the planet.

  He heard his daughter's scream, then her comm die.

  "Leona!" he cried. Instinctively, Emet began piloting the Jerusalem toward where she had fallen.

  "Hang on there, laddie." Duncan grabbed his shoulder. "We can't be bringing the Jerusalem so close to that planet. We're a full-sized frigate, no wee corvette. The gravity would rip us apart."

  The battle raged around them. Thousands of warships fought. Space burned as the Hierarchy and Concord clashed.

  "Then I'm boarding a shuttle," Emet said. "I'm flying down there. To find Leona. To—"

  "Admiral Emet Ben-Ari!" Duncan grabbed him, and suddenly the kindly old man had fire in his eyes. "You will not abandon your post. The Heirs of Earth depend on you, now more than ever. Humanity depends on you. If Leona survived that crash, she can fend for herself. If she fell in battle, it's too late to save her." His cheeks were red, his eyes blazing. "Your post is here."

  Leona . . . fallen in battle?

  The terror gripped Emet, more powerful than Duncan's large hands.

  I already lost a wife. I cannot lose a daughter too.

  But Duncan, his dear old friend, was right. Emet knew this. He nodded and placed his hand on Duncan's shoulder.

  "Thank you, Doc."

  Duncan nodded, clasping Emet's shoulder in return. "Now let's win this damn war and go home."

  Now that Leona had blown a hole through the Hierarchy defenses, the Concord armada was pouring forth. Warship after warship emerged from Terminus Wormhole, many even larger than the Jerusalem. Their firepower was terrible and beautiful to behold. They kept pounding the strikers, ripping up scorpion formations, making room for more vessels. Soon thousands of Concord ships were fighting, ranging from dreadnoughts the size of skyscrapers to starfighters no larger than cars. Space was alight with battle.

  "Sir, another striker brigade incoming!" Rowan shouted, sitting at the gunnery station.

  "Keep them busy!" Emet said. "I'll divert more power to your cannons."

  Rowan nodded, turned back toward her viewport, and clutched a joystick with each hand. She leaned forward, eyes narrowed, and pulled the triggers. A barrage of shells thudded out from the Jerusalem, flying toward the advancing strikers. One of the enemy ships exploded. Its shrapnel tore down two of its neighbors.

  "Got one!" Rowan said, leaping from her seat.

  "Keep firing, Private, and don't get cocky." Emet turned to Duncan. "Doc, return to your own gunner's station. We have work to do."

  They fought on.

  They lost ships.

  They lost warriors.

  They fought far from Earth, but as Emet flew through the battle, leading his fleet, he knew that every shell fired, every warrior lost, was for their homeworld. For Earth. And for the millions of humans beyond the border, dying, calling out for aid, needing him.

  You're in danger. I'm here. I'm here.

  The Jerusalem charged into battle, and the other Inheritor ships flew behind them. Their cannons pounded the enemy, tearing down strikers.

  For the first time in thousands of years, aliens saw a new sight: humans fighting back.

  Eighty generations ago, we lost our home, Emet thought. But we never lost our honor. This is human pride.

  He increased speed. The Jerusalem barreled forth. They rammed into strikers, knocking them back. Their Firebirds streamed above and around them, firing missiles and bullets. Even the Aelonian ships did not move as fast, as courageously. It was not those ancient, luminous aliens who formed the vanguard but the Heirs of Earth. This small band of humans, fighting for their survival. For a memory.

  A striker charged toward them, twice their size. Emet pulled on the yoke, putting the Jerusalem into a spin. Duncan and Rowan fired their cannons, blasting the enemy from starboard, port, then starboard again, shattering the striker's hull. Scorpions spilled out into space, flailing, only for the Firebirds to swoop and take them out. The Heirs of Earth plowed onward.

  They were few. They were only fifteen ships. Then ten. Then a handful. They faced thousands. But they charged through the enemy lines like a spear.

  Hope began to grow in Emet.

  More Concord warships were emerging from the Wormhole, and soon the entire fleet was attacking the enemy.

  We can beat them, Emet thought. We can drive the bastards back into the Hierarchy. We can—

  A shadow fell.

  Rowan screamed.

  A colossal warship rose before them, triangular and black. Before it, the Jerusalem was like a hornet facing a dragon.

  A red spiral blazed on the enemy hull, an emblem as large as the Jerusalem. Emet recognized the words etched beneath it in living flame.

  The Venom.

  Jade's dreadnought.

  The massive striker began firing its cannons, taking out Concord warships. Aelonian vessels shattered into countless silver shards.

  Emet began flying toward the Venom.

  "We take her on!" he cried. "Rowan, fire your cannons!"

  Rowan looked at him. Her eyes were huge and haunted. "Is . . . my sister aboard that ship?"

  Yes, Rowan had spoken to him of her suspicions. Emet had no time for such delusions.

  "We've been over this. She's not your sister, Rowan, she's a scorpion in human form." He kept charging toward the Venom. "Now fire your canons! That's an order."

  Rowan winced. Reluctantly, she opened fire. Her blasts hit the Venom's hull but left not a dent. Duncan was firing his own cannons, and other Inheritor warships were firing too, but nothing so much as scratched Venom's shields.

  A signal came in, so powerful it pierced their firewalls. Across their monitors, stats of the battle vanished, and Jade's visage replaced them.

  "Hello, humans!" Jade cried, speaking from inside the Venom. She sat on her throne, stroking a scorpion's head. "I've destroyed half your fleet already. The rest of you I will take alive. I will skin you in the hall of my emperor. Prepare to be boarded!"

  The transmission died.

  Hatches on the Venom opened, and a hundred drill-tipped vessels emerged.

  The swarm charged toward the Inheritor fleet.

  "Shoot them down!" Emet shouted.

  They fired everything, concentrating on the boarding vessels. They took out dozens. But the rest kept swarming, and soon the small ships were buzzing around the Jerusalem.

  A boarder slammed into the Jerusalem's roof. Two more thudded against their belly. Cannons from the port and starboard kept the others at bay, but more and more were attaching to their top and bottom, hooking on like leeches.

  "Duncan, you have the bridge," Emet said. "Rowan, keep those cannons firing!"

  He raced into the hold.

  His platoon was waiting there, fifty Inheritor marines, guns ready. The starboard and port bulkheads thrummed as the cannons kept firing. Above and below them, the hull shook as the enemy boarding vessels began to drill.

  Emet took a deep breath. He raised Thunder in one hand, Lightning in the other. Around him, his fellow warriors aimed their weapons.

  With shrieking metal and showering sparks, drills tore through the hull.

  The gates of hell opened, and the scorpions leaped in.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The ISS Nantuc
ket lay in the marsh of Akraba, cracked and smoldering, filled with mud and death.

  Buzzzz.

  Leona blinked, struggling to bring the world into focus. She waved at the sound, winced in pain.

  Hummmmm.

  She floated. She sank. All the world—cracked metal and pain in her leg.

  Her thigh ached.

  Her wound throbbed.

  The scorpion was clawing at her leg, chortling, as her husband lay dying.

  "Jake," she whispered. "Jake, I'm sorry."

  Buzzzz.

  Hummmm.

  The insects were feeding on his corpse. The engines of afterlife were rumbling.

  "Commodore!" A voice from the haze. "Commodore, can you hear me? Leona!"

  She blinked. It was Coral speaking. She knew her. Coral Amber, a girl with lavender eyes, platinum hair, and a secret power. A girl she had met on a desert world.

  "What are you doing here?" Leona whispered. "It's my wedding day." She wept. "There's blood on my dress."

  She doubled over.

  A shotgun wedding, yes. Two seventeen-year-olds, so young, so scared.

  Sartak, an albino scorpion with two tails, laughed. Blood splattered the beach. Her husband lay dying and she knelt on the sand, clutching her belly, as the blood poured between her thighs.

  "I have to move you, Leona." The voice spoke again, fading away, growing weaker. "Come on. Out into the open. You must gaze into the sky."

  Hands grabbed her under the arms and pulled.

  Leona screamed.

  The pain in her belly!

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears on her cheeks. "I buried him. I buried him in the water. My child. And the waves washed him away into the sea." She wept. "I love to sail forbidden seas . . . Someday I will sail there again. My child is waiting for me."

  The waves carried her. They brought her to soft soil, and she lay, gazing up at clouds, and the rain fell upon her, and Leona smiled.

  "Let the aether in, Leona. Breathe. Let it flow. Let it heal."

  Strands of starlight shone.

  Liquid luminosity flowed into Leona.

  She cried out. It burned.

  "Breathe, Leona, daughter of Earth," whispered a luminous figure. "Let the aether heal you. Be one with the Cosmos. Be one with the light."

  Leona took a deep, shuddering breath, letting the light flow through her, and her pain faded. Her vision cleared. She was lying in mud. Coral knelt above her, her lavender eyes filled with light. Her tattoos were glowing, coiling across her dark skin. The light flowed from Coral's hands into Leona, easing the pain. Healing her. Lighting her path.

  Slowly the light faded, and Coral took a shaky breath. The weaver fell back into the mud, ashen, her fingers shaky.

  "It takes a lot out of a weaver," she whispered. "Thank the ancients. You are healed."

  Leona blinked, the fog lifting from her mind, and looked around her.

  The fog of her mind had perhaps parted, but there was certainly enough real mist around her. She sat on a tussock that rose from a swamp. The marshlands spread around her in every direction, shadowy and rank. Rain drizzled, insects chirped everywhere, and the smells of mud and moss filled her nostrils. The air was thick as soup. Trees with long, coiling roots rose around her. They reminded her of mangroves, trees she had seen in the Earthstone, but these trees were far taller, rising like the pillars.

  The buzzing and humming sounded behind her. Leona turned and winced.

  The Nantucket, her beloved starship, lay smashed on the planet surface. Her hull had cracked open. Her bridge was shattered. She was half-sunken in the mud. A few of her cables still sparked, producing the sound. Several other Inheritors from her crew stood by the ship, nursing their wounds. Through the cracked hull, Leona glimpsed the rest of her crew, dead eyes staring.

  She raised her eyes. The clouds hid the sky. If the battle continued, it was hidden.

  "Thank you, Coral," she said, looking back at the weaver. "Your magic saved my life."

  Coral smiled wanly. She looked thinner than before, as after a long illness. "I told you, ma'am, I don't deal with magic. I'm not a soothsayer but a weaver of the holy light. I am one with the cosmos."

  "Well, whatever the hell you are, you saved my ass," Leona said. "I owe you my life."

  "And you saved my life on Til Shiran," Coral said, eyes shimmering. "I was slowly dying in the desert. You showed me the luminous path. We are forever in each other's debt. We are forever cosmic sisters."

  Leona nodded. "Cosmic sisters. I like that. Of course, I'd like it better if we weren't stuck on the ass end of the cosmos."

  Leona rose to her feet—too fast. She swayed, and Coral had to rush forward and catch her. Even after the healing, Leona's body was bruised and cut. When she tested a few steps, she could walk. No bones were broken. Her head spun, but slowly it was clearing.

  Cursing, she stumbled toward the Nantucket's cockpit, but the controls were smashed beyond use. The engines were dead. She flipped open her minicom, trying to connect to her fleet. But it was no use. With these thick clouds, she wasn't signaling anyone.

  She turned toward Coral and the three other Inheritors—the last survivors of her crew.

  "Grab whatever weapons you can from the Nantucket," she said. "Water and food too. Anything that's too heavy to carry, you leave behind."

  Coral frowned. "Where are we going, ma'am?"

  "To find higher ground. See that smudge on the horizon? That looks like a mountain. We might get a signal from there."

  "And . . . the dead?" Coral said.

  Coral's voice shook the slightest. Fear filled her eyes. Yes, Coral was a weaver, a wielder of a secret power Leona didn't understand. Yet she was still only a private, new to war. The other surviving Inheritors looked at Leona too, older and gruffer, but also scared. She saw the fear in their eyes.

  "I want a volunteer to remain with the fallen," Leona said. "We'll not bury them in this swamp. We'll get aid. We'll find a starship to rescue us. We'll give our fallen heroes a proper funeral in space and send their bodies to rest among the stars." She looked at the smashed starship, at the dead inside. "They gave their lives for Earth. They fell with honor. They are—"

  She fell silent and tilted her head.

  A clattering sounded among the trees.

  She spun around, aiming Arondight, but saw nothing.

  The others raised their rifles too. They stared around, eyes narrowed.

  "Comma—" Coral began.

  Leona raised a finger to her lips.

  There! She heard it again. More clattering. Creaking. Mud swishing.

  The creature rose from behind the starship, dripping mud and moss.

  "A marshcrab," Leona muttered. "I mucking hate those things."

  She had seen a few marshcrabs in space before. Despite the sad state of their homeworld, they were a sentient, technological species—mostly using stolen tech. In space, the giant crabs were bright red. But here, in their own soupy environment, their exoskeleton was a rusty brown. With their long, thin legs, they looked a lot like mangrove roots, blending into their environment.

  "Hey, buddy!" Leona said to the crab. "Do you happen to have a working communicator on ya?"

  The marshcrab climbed over the Nantucket. Its eyestalks tilted toward her. Its legs were taller than Leona. Its body was small and covered with a warty shell; most of the creature was just legs.

  "Hey, I'm talking to you, bub!" Leona said.

  "Commodore!" Coral grabbed her arm. "Look!"

  Leona turned and cursed. More marshcrabs were creeping from the trees. They had been there all along, Leona realized, hiding among the roots. Leona winced.

  "Hear me, marshcrabs!" she said. "I am Commodore Leona Ben-Ari of the Concord forces. I wish you no harm! If you return me to my people, I will—"

  "Concord scum!" one of the marshcrabs said.

  "Filthy humans!" rasped another.

  "Invaders!" cried a third marshcrab. "Invaders!"

  "Slay t
hem! Slay them!"

  The creatures scuttled toward the humans, sneering.

  Leona rolled her eyes. Oh bloody hell.

  "Inheritors, fire!" she cried.

  Their bullets rang out, slamming into the marshcrabs. Leona tore a leg off one beast, but it kept running.

  A claw thrust toward her. Leona swung Arondight, parrying the blow, then fired again, hitting the marshcrab's underbelly. Its shell cracked, and its innards leaked. Leona leaped back, barely dodging the falling alien.

  More marshcrabs were advancing. Leona kept firing, tearing them down. They were easy kills compared to scorpions, but by Ra, there were a lot of them. More kept emerging from the trees, rising from the mud, and appearing from the fog.

  The other Inheritors were firing too. Bullets tore off the marshcrab legs, shattered their shells, and sent the beasts clattering down.

  Coral fought with a different weapon. Her tattoos shone, and light flowed down her arm and into her silvery dagger. When she aimed the blade, pulses of light blasted out and slammed into marshcrabs, searing holes into their shells.

  Dead aliens quickly sank into the mud, but new marshcrabs rose to replace them. Dozens, soon hundreds of the creatures surrounded the handful of Inheritors. An individual marshcrab wasn't much of a threat to a trained Inheritor. An army of marshcrabs was a different matter.

  "They're too many!" Coral said.

  Leona grimaced. Firing with one hand, she pulled out her minicom again. Damn it! Still no signal.

  Had anyone seen the Nantucket crashing? Would her father arrive to save them?

  A marshcrab lunged toward her, and she fired, knocking it back. But another rose behind her, and its leg knocked her down. Another leg kicked Arondight away. Lying on her back in the mud, Leona drew her pistol and fired, again, again, punching bullets through the crab until it fell dead. Another rose behind it.

  I want to die on Earth, Leona thought. Not become crab food. Come on, Dad, where the hell are you?