Four Tomorrows: A Space Opera Box Set

by James Palmer

  Grand Leader Kark was lying across a sun rock in quiet repose, close to dozing, when her communicator chirped. She opened her eyes, thinking it a trick of her near-dreaming mind. When it chirped again, she slid her nictitating membranes open and raised herself up, reached for the communicator and flicked it on with a razor-sharp talon.

  “Kark,” she said, irritated. Her ship, along with the rest of the fleet, was on its way to the Artra system to begin the annihilation of the human race, but there was no way they had arrived yet, and she had left implicit instructions that she not be disturbed until that time.

  “Grand Leader,” said Straker. “I trust you are well.”

  “What do you want, human?” she said. Kark was in no mood to be interrupted. She shifted herself on the heated rock and scratched at a fleck of skin that was starting to molt.

  “I just wanted to let you know that your revenge is at hand. The Onslaught is within your reach.”

  “What?”

  “The ship that destroyed dozens of Draconi vessels during the war, and more recently destroyed a Draconi science vessel on a peaceful mission, has just joined our fleet.”

  “There are a hundred such human vessels,” said Kark, her tongue flicking from her mouth. “All within my reach.”

  “But none of them have the reputation among your kind like the Onslaught,” said Straker.

  Kark pondered Straker’s words. If she could claim the Onslaught, and have Captain Kuttner’s head impaled upon a stick, she would be the pride of her people. The Mother Impress Herself would reward her and her crew greatly. She thought Straker was a spineless krzakssh for betraying his own people, but what was that to her? So far his communiques had been advantageous. And she’d gladly grind his bones between her teeth as well when the time was right.

  “Send me the coordinates,” she said.

  “Gladly,” said Straker.

  30 The Razor

  The Draconi war fleet was still several million kilometers out when they started firing their weapons. Searing clouds of charged particles and titanium shells full of depleted uranium came at the human fleet, many of them missing their mark by hundreds of thousands of miles, others striking with deadly force.

  Gunner Cade’s holographic tactical overlay was aflame with bright blossoms of energy spewing from struck ships, and cries for help came over the tightbeam like the calls of lost souls from old Earth myth.

  The Solar Navy fleet struck back with equal ferocity, and several smaller Draconi warships disappeared in bright, brief dots of flame.

  Kuttner sat in his command chair watching the carnage, wondering if there was still something he could do to stop it.

  The Onslaught rocked violently, shuddered.

  “What was that?” shouted Hamilton.

  “We’ve been hit,” said Gunner Cade, checking his instruments. “Low power ion surge, minimal damage. It came from a Draconi ship that has detached from the main battle group and is heading straight for us.”

  “That’s strange,” Hamilton murmured.

  “Weapons charged,” said Cade, looking expectantly at Kuttner.

  “Hold your fire, dammit! Brackett, get me another channel to the Fleet.”

  The Onslaught was rocked again by another blast. The acrid tang of burnt wiring filled the air as something shorted out.

  “The Draconi vessel is still closing,” said Hudson. “Raptor class. They must want us pretty badly.”

  “Why are they singling us out?” said Hamilton. “We’re obviously damaged, damn near wounded. There are plenty more fresh and glorious targets out there for the Draconi to go after.”

  “I don’t know,” said Kuttner, darkly. “When they board us you can ask.”

  Warning klaxons blared, and red lights flashed from panels set in the low ceiling, painting the faces of the crew a lurid crimson. Captain Kuttner gritted his teeth. The Onslaught had been a grand ship in her day, but she couldn’t take much more of this. If the old girl could hold together just a little while longer…

  “Evasive action,” said Kuttner. “I don’t want to fire on them unless we absolutely have to.”

  “Working,” said Hudson. Slowly, the old ship began to respond, but it wasn’t quick enough.

  “Brace for impact!” Gunner Cade warned, grabbing the edges of his workstation in a white-knuckled grip.

  The ship slewed sideways as a shudder went through her. Kuttner felt the vibration move up through his boots to rattle his back teeth.

  “Decks ten through fourteen report heavy damage,” said Brackett. “We’ve got multiple casualties, and hull breaches on decks eight, twelve, thirteen…”

  “All right,” said Kuttner, cutting her off. “I get it. Open a channel to that ship. If we can’t change everyone else’s mind, maybe we can change theirs.”

  “Channel open,” said Brackett. “They’re answering,” she added, a bit of surprise in her voice.

  “Draconi vessel,” said Kuttner. “This is Captain Kuttner of the Onslaught.”

  “I know who you are, mammal,” an alien voice hissed. The view screen rippled, replaced with an image of the interior of the Draconi ship. Sitting on a raised dais, hunched on the strange stools the dragons used to accommodate their lizard-like physiology, was their captain. “I am Grand Leader Kark of the Razor,” she said, her tongue darting from between her sharp white teeth. “Surrender yourself to me now, and I will make the deaths of your crew as quick and as painless as possible.”

  “As wonderful as that sounds,” said Kuttner flippantly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check. Restarting this war is a big mistake. Both our peoples are under siege by a new and powerful enemy.”

  “Don’t give me your lies, human,” said Kark. “You will only prolong your inevitable deaths.”

  “Drizda,” said Kuttner. “Show them.”

  Drizda stepped forward, slate in hand. “Grand Leader Kark, I am Drizda of the Science Council. I have evidence that both our kind and the humans have been attacked by a species of alien probes that can—”

  “Enough!” Kark snapped. “It is bad enough to bear meaningless prattle from a human, but I refuse to hear anything this casteless kzosh has to say. Haven’t you brought enough disgrace on the house of your mother as it is?”

  Drizda took a step back, stooping low. She looked at the deck beneath her feet. Then she glanced up at Hamilton, who nodded for her to keep going.

  Drizda found her courage and stepped forward once more.

  “Grand Leader, I may be without caste or rank, but I am right. These people saved my life, after destroying my host vessel in self-defense. Later they risked their lives to save one of our hatcheries from the alien probes. They have been nothing but honorable. I think it is you who dishonor your mother’s house.”

  Kark uttered a prolonged hiss, bearing her fangs. “How dare you, impudent hatchling? Once I have gutted these mammals I will slit your miserable throat. I only wanted to do you the honor of looking your enemy in the eye before killing you, Kuttner.”

  “What would your high command think of one of its captors conspiring with the enemy?” said Hamilton, stepping forward.

  “What are you talking about, human?”

  “Your single-minded attack on us, when there are plenty of bigger and deadlier targets,” said Hamilton. “Straker got to you, didn’t he? Told you to attack us and where you could find us.”

  “More human lies! I will not listen to this.” The signal cut off abruptly.

  “You definitely got to her,” said Kuttner. “She’s working with Straker all right.”

  Hamilton nodded. “Makes sense. First he finds out we’re with the Fleet, and then next thing you know we’ve being singled out by an enemy ship.”

  “It did not go well,” said Drizda. “Kark will not see reason.”

  “You did your best,” said Kuttner. “I’m afraid we might have to fight after all.”

  Hamilton sighed, straightening his uniform. “Defenses,” he said. “Status.
”

  “Deflectors up to full,” said Gunner Cade. “Though that isn’t saying much. Both ion guns charged and fully functioning. For now.”

  “Fire,” ordered Kuttner and Hamilton, almost in unison.

  Gunner Cade hunched over his virtual firing controls, trying to get a bead on the Draconi ship before firing off a volley of charged particle streams. A few long seconds later he said, “We got a hit, but just barely. They’re coming around again.”

  “Brace for impact!” yelled Kuttner.

  The Draconi vessel fired its forward ion cannons, the searing blue beams striking a forward section of the ship with a resounding metallic thud.

  “Nearing this solar system’s asteroid belt,” said Hudson. “I think we can lose them in there.”

  “Do it,” said Kuttner

  Another blast of high energy particles zipped past them, barely missing them as they continued on into space. Kuttner gripped the arms of his chair tightly as Hudson guided the large ship into the field of rock and debris that stretched out between the system’s fourth and fifth planets. Still the Draconi vessel came after them.

  “What’s it going to take to get out of this?” said Hamilton.

  Kuttner looked at him and muttered, “A miracle.”

  31 The Shadow Council

  Straker was a madman. It was the only thing that made any sense. He had gone stark raving insane and, even worse, he had convinced others to do his bidding. Leda was standing against the wall of the command deck, her hands fastened behind her back by a set of heavy magnetic manacles. Straker was wearing a glowing white command dress uniform, formal even for his rank. He was sitting in the Armitage’s command chair. Standing around him were three upper echelon members of Fleet Command, Admiral David Weber, Fleet Commander Wilson Tucker, and Colonel Tavis Moreland, each resplendent in their uniforms. Leda couldn’t tell for certain, but she was sure that these were the men Straker had met with virtually back at headquarters. The woman they had been conversing with in that meeting was not in attendance, but Leda had a feeling she knew who it was. In the corner opposite where Leda stood prisoner, was the familiar probe that had been discovered all those years ago. It was plugged into a makeshift power conduit, and issued a faint hum. Leda even thought she could hear something inside it moving faintly.

  “I have to admit, I had my doubts at first, but you really pulled it off, Straker,” said Admiral Weber.

  “Thank you, sir,” said Straker. “I told you your faith in me—in our cause—was not misguided.”

  “It wasn’t our faith in you, but faith in the coming Chaos Wave,” said Moreland.

  “Their vengeance is coming,” Tucker intoned.

  “And that right soon,” the others answered in unison.

  “Their existence is undeniable,” said Straker. “The Swarm’s presence proves it. The Progenitor epics speak of harbingers that will bring the coming chaos behind it like a wave. We are merely clearing the board for the final round.”

  “I’m surrounded by lunatics,” Leda muttered. Straker turned his head slightly at the sound.

  “What about her?” said Moreland. “You said there wouldn’t be any loose ends.”

  “There are no loose ends,” said Straker. “What’s she going to do this late in the game?”

  The others turned to look at her then, and Leda shrank from their gaze. Their attentions were unnerving in the extreme.

  “She’ll never work for us,” said Admiral Weber.

  “True,” said Moreland.

  “If you’re going to kill me,” said Leda. “Just do it and get it over with.”

  Commander Tucker grinned. “I think I have a better idea. Gentlemen, let’s introduce her to the Chaos Wave.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Leda.

  Straker rose and turned toward her. “Do you think it will show her? I doubt she is of the blood.”

  Weber shrugged. “What of it? If not, we can go ahead and kill her. But if she can see, she gets a glimpse of man’s doom before she dies.”

  Straker’s mouth stretched in a wide grin. “Yes. I dare say she’s earned that much.” He looked at a guard standing near his seat. “Bring her closer to the probe.

  As if in response, the damaged probe began to sing a discordant note. Straker looked at the others and smiled.

  “What are you doing?” said Leda, pulling against the guard as he dragged her toward the damaged alien machine.

  “It wants to show you something,” said Straker.

  “What?” said Leda.

  Straker leered at her. “The future.”

  32 Cat and Mouse

  The Onslaught limped its way into the Artra system’s asteroid belt, and the Razor dogged them every kilometer of the way.

  The belt made a million-mile lap around the fifth and sixth planets, both of which were lifeless gas giants no one had bothered to name other than by giving them a long string of numbers. It was more densely packed than most asteroid fields, which gave Kuttner some confidence that they could outmaneuver the Draconi warship and gain the upper hand. They had to rely on subterfuge now; the ship wouldn’t survive another direct assault.

  “Keep as many of these space rocks between us and them as you can,” said Kuttner.

  “Aye, sir,” said the navigator.

  “What is the Razor’s position in relation to us?” asked Hamilton.

  The navigator checked his instruments. “Hard to tell with the magnetic interference from all this rock, but it looks like they’re directly above us. Twenty degrees above the plane of the ecliptic.”

  Kuttner looked at Hamilton knowingly. “You’ve got a plan.”

  Hamilton nodded. “If you’ll permit me, Captain?”

  Kuttner motioned with his hand. “Be my guest. The command deck is yours.”

  “Hudson,” said Hamilton. “Plot an intercept course. On my signal, give full power to the engines.”

  The view screen wavered, and a tactical wireframe appeared, displaying computer interpretations of both ships in relation to each other and the surrounding asteroids.

  “You want to ram them,” said Kuttner. It wasn’t a question.

  “I want them to think I’m going to ram them.”

  Hamilton waited a moment for the Draconi warship to move just a little closer. Another thousand kilometers, and they would probably detect the Onslaught’s engine output and take evasive action.

  “Now, Lt. Hudson.”

  They could feel the old ship start to increase speed. The wireframe disappeared, showing instead a tiny black speck against the blackness of space, a blue dot on one end indicating the Razor’s powerful ion engine. From this distance it looked no more dangerous than an ember sparking from a campfire. It grew larger in the viewer as the Onslaught sped towards it.

  “They see us,” said Hudson. “Looks like they’re taking evasive action.”

  “Brackett, open a channel,” ordered Hamilton.

  “Channel open.”

  “Grand Leader Kark,” he said. “This is Commander Hamilton. We’re going to send you our data logs from the last few days. I suggest you take a look at them or prepare to be rammed.”

  He glanced at Drizda, who tapped her slate, sending everything they had recorded about their encounters with the Swarm over the tightbeam link.

  “She’ll want time to review it,” said Drizda.

  “She has…Hudson?”

  “Seven minutes.”

  Hamilton glanced at Drizda. “There. See? Plenty of time.”

  The Razor couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, and its commanding officer knew that.

  The Razor fired, not at the Onslaught, but at a nearby asteroid. The large rock fractured, sending large chunks of debris directly into the path of the Onslaught.

  “Evasive—” Hamilton said, but it was too late. Huge chunks of asteroid punched through the hull of the ship at random intervals. A workstation shorted out, and Brackett received reports of crew members being sucked out int
o space.

  Kark’s voice hissed over their comm, the channel still being open. “Your proof does not matter. Straker is a mere human, but he is correct. This war needs to happen for the honor of our race. We will extinguish mankind’s light from the stars, and return to our rightful place as masters of the cosmos.”

  “She’s as crazy as Straker,” said Kuttner.

  Hamilton nodded. “Gunner Cade. Give them everything we’ve got.”

  “With pleasure, sir.”

  The Onslaught, damaged though she was, fired its ion cannons at the Razor, scoring a few hits.

  “We shorted out its deflector field, sir,” said Cade.

  Hamilton nodded. Warning klaxons went off, and Kuttner orders them silenced

  “Do you surrender now, Captain?” Kark asked over the tightbeam.

  Kuttner glanced at Hamilton. Before he could answer, the Razor was fired upon, knocking it off course. It veered around and, with a burst of its engines, headed back toward the main body of the Draconi fleet.

  “Hudson,” shouted Hamilton. “Who fired on them?”

  “That was the Heinlein, sir,” said the navigator.

  “That’s Admiral Sheldon’s ship,” said Kuttner. “Open a channel.”

  The viewer shimmered and Admiral Sheldon appeared on the gleaming deck of a Warrior class battle cruiser. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said. “You look like you could use a hand.”

  “Could we ever,” said Kuttner.

  Sheldon’s smile faded, and she took on a serious, remorseful tone. “I’m sorry for all this. I was in on Straker’s scheme. I thought he wanted to build our military back up by starting another war with the Dragons. I had no idea it went this far, and I am sorry. When all this is over, I will hand myself over to the authorities. An extra lifetime isn’t worth this much guilt.”

  “Thanks, Alice,” said Kuttner. “You always were a class act. Now let’s go get that lying bastard.”

  The two ships changed course and, following the Heinlein’s lead, started out of the asteroid field.

  “Sir,” said Hudson. “Detecting multiple bogeys. It’s the Swarm.”