Invardii Box Set 2

by Warwick Gibson

  “You and your people are the inheritors of Mentuk now,” he said to The Collector, grateful for everything the alien creature had done for him.

  “If the Alliance can stop the Invardii, and send them back to where they came from, Mentuk will be yours once again,” he continued.

  When The Collector said nothing, Fedic turned and scrambled up the slope behind him. A rustling of leathery feet sounded from the grasses and hillocks around him. When he was well above the spot where the river issued from the hillside, he turned and angled across the slope toward the ridge that would take him back toward the glider.

  A chorus of whistle-whack cries sounded excitedly from the far side of the river below him, and the vermyk predators there bounded up the slope in their eagerness to get at him.

  Fedic held his nerve, and continued steadily on his course. The long, reptilian predators were just below him now, and some of them had moved out in front of him, attempting to cut him off.

  Then shadows rose up around the nearest of the vermyk, and it started screaming. Its life ended in a bloody gurgle as something latched onto its throat. The other vermyk hesitated, then two more went down in the same moment. The rest turned to flee, but it was too late.

  Fast as the vermyk were, some of them gray blurs in the darkness, The Collector’s young rose up before them in every direction they turned.

  Fedic continued on his way as the wet sounds of tearing flesh and grinding bones rose up behind him. When he didn’t stop, a low keening began. Eventually, reluctantly, his primordial bodyguard fell in around him once again.

  CHAPTER 31

  ________________

  Fedic was aiming for a shoulder near the top of the ridge. He was in contact with the glider’s systems now, and they were showing him the terrain. The shoulder would place him just underneath the plateau, with the glider be nearby.

  Chances to stretch out his muscles had been few and far between on this trip, and Fedic took full advantage of the opportunity now. He was climbing quickly, and the rolling wave of his bodyguard kept up effortlessly.

  He found it odd that one of these merciless terrors would eventually turn into the slow, wheezing mound of flesh that was The Collector, but who was he to judge what worked well for another species?

  There was only one more incident on the way, and Fedic caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. A huge, bear-like shape rose up on its back legs, bellowing as small black shapes climbed it like it was a tree, and hung off it where their jaws had latched on.

  The massive shape dropped to the ground and hastened away at an impressive speed. The sounds of it crashing through the undergrowth continued for some time, and Fedic was relieved that it had managed to escape his swarming bodyguard.

  He was surprised to find the many shapes of his bodyguard registered only as dark shadows on his infrared optics. It seemed they were the ultimate cold-blooded killers, and Fedic wondered where they stored the energy released by their exertions.

  Then he realized his mistake. Human muscles were very inefficient at turning blood sugars to work, but the muscles of his bodyguard did not.

  The efficiency of their systems was staggering, and their value to scientific research at Prometheus would be enormous. Still, he ruefully admitted, he had little chance of getting one of them into the glider with him – at least with him getting out of the glider at the other end still alive.

  When he arrived at the landing site, he found the glider was untouched. A careful electronic scan of the area showed no traps to be triggered or recording devices set up to alert the Invardii security systems.

  The glider powered up and ran through its routines, and Fedic loaded his field kit aboard. The long, lean shape of the glider was all sophisticated machinery and weight-saving improvements on the inside, with one long, central cocoon for Fedic in the middle. When he had finished, there was one last task for him to do, and he knew it wouldn’t take long.

  Standing beside the glider, he played the sending chant to The Collector’s young.

  There was no reaction from the motionless black shapes spread out among the dry grasses and low mounds of succulents. He played it again, and got the same motionless result. Fedic shrugged. He had thought The Collector’s young would return to The Collector, and the labyrinth beneath the plateau, as soon as they were freed from their obligations to him.

  He wondered whether the creatures were aware The Collector’s bonding would soon wear off – and then he would be just a tasty meal to them. Was he being too hard on their kind, he wondered. Biased against them by their extraordinary efficiency as killing machines? Was it, instead, curiosity that was keeping them here? Right now there was no way he could find that out, and he pushed the thought out of his mind.

  He slid into the glider, and it sealed after him.

  Cloaked in the dead of the Mentuk night, the black tide on the hillside watched impassively as the long, lean shape rose above the barren landscape, and was lost in the darkness.

  A great many star systems away, another technological miracle was taking place. It was late evening in Cordez’ living room, and the air in front of him began to shimmer. It wasn’t long before a round, gray, watery-looking ball formed in front of him.

  He wished Asura was there to see it. She had often talked about her interest in the Orion, and the way they communicated with him, and with Finch. The shimmering ball slowly cleared, leaving a desert scene, with a large rock in the foreground.

  “Welcome, Subdirector,” said Cordez, hazarding a guess that the rock was indeed his old ally Subthree, now promoted to higher status. For one of the few times in his life, Cordez felt nervous. It was a feeling he was not used to, and he didn’t like the way it drained his strength, and made his palms moist.

  “We have been talking to Druanii,” began the Orion representative. “Many points have needed, mm, clarification. Process has taken much time.”

  That, I know! said Cordez sharply to himself, feeling a little frustration bubbling to the surface. He made an immediate effort to calm himself.

  “Unfortunately Druanii cannot help you,” said Subdirector. “This is painful for us to say, mmmm, and I think to Druanii also. It is only because Druanii must not bring upon themselves their own destruction.”

  Cordez had been expecting this. The Druanii might have thrown their weight behind the Alliance, and the attempt to win freedom for all the races in the Spiral Arm at the final battle, but the chances were high they would simply go down fighting alongside the Alliance.

  Once the Invardii knew the Druanii had been actively helping the Alliance, the Druanii would be the next target if the Alliance was defeated.

  Cordez had activated a comms alarm as soon as the gray ball had begun to form in his living room, and Celia’s tired face now appeared on the screen he had set up on the table. He didn’t know when she had last slept, or when any of her team had.

  Fedic Vits had brought the Invardii-Druanii treaties to Cordez personally, arriving unannounced at his South Am headquarters. He was now recovering from his ordeal in Cordez’ guest rooms.

  Cordez had recognized the treaties’ importance, and sent the data files to Prometheus immediately. Celia and her team had been trying to put the treaties in order of significance, and likely usefulness to the Alliance, ever since. They’d been working on the project day and night.

  “What have you got?” he said to her, turning his head from Subdirector to do so.

  “Most of the treaties are redundancies,” she said tiredly, “relying on previous agreements or stipulating that the same conditions need to apply to new situations. We didn’t think you’d want to go around in circles like that, so we concentrated on stand-alone situations the Alliance might be able to use.

  “We’ve been working on a list, in order of likely usefulness, and all I can suggest at this stage is I send you the top twenty treaties. The main problem with them is that the more significant treaties were established early in the history of the tw
o races. It means that most of those at the top of the list are quite ancient.”

  “I think that’s going to be a plus,” said Cordez, pleased with what the research team had done. “Have you checked that none of the later treaties have voided any of the earlier ones?”

  “Yes, we’ve checked for that,” said Celia. “The whole of our operations room is covered in timelines and flow charts, with retroactive loops that invalidated more than half the treaties.”

  “I can’t say how much this might mean to the Alliance,” said Cordez. He was touched by the way the research team had run themselves into the ground to get him this information.

  “It’s what we’re here for,” said Celia, with a tired smile. Another figure joined her on the screen, a tall male figure that he remembered seeing at Prometheus once or twice. Roberto, wasn’t it?

  “She’s a princess, the best we could ever hope for,” said Roberto, and put his arm around her shoulders before squeezing her gently. The gesture reminded Cordez of himself and Asura, when they were in their private quarters. He smiled. They seemed a very happy couple.

  “Next time I’m out at Prometheus, I’ll thank the research team in person,” said the Regent. He ended the transmission and turned back toward Subdirector.

  “I’m sending you some information that will change the mind of the Druanii,” he said, and relayed Celia’s data files forward.

  Subdirector said nothing, and then another Orion sidled into the picture. There was much animated waving of the fern-like fronds that adorned their bodies.

  “One last message to the Druanii people,” said Cordez reassuringly. “Ancient treaties that the Invardii must abide by. On the strength of your trust in me, take them to the Druanii.”

  At the mention of ancient treaties, the two Orion did seem to hesitate. Cordez could only hope they would take a chance, and do as he asked.

  “What you require of us poses great risk to Orion,” said Subdirector. “We have to balance destruction of our race with fate of many other races. Invardii, mmm, suspect our messages to Druanii already.”

  Subdirector paused, and Cordez felt his heart stop.

  “We will send message on,” said Subdirector, “but Druanii must reply directly to you. Danger is too great for us.”

  Cordez assured them this would be enough.

  “For the good of the many,” said Subdirector, and the gray ball slowly faded from Cordez’ living room.

  As Cordez thought about what he’d asked the Orion to do, he felt sick at heart. How could he risk the destruction of a peaceful race like the Orion to increase the chances of Earth, and the Alliance?

  His job required him to make judgments like these, but sometimes they were difficult for him to bear. He wasn’t sure that his request had been entirely ethical, though the Orion had been fully aware of the possible consequences.

  He stood up and began to pace the room. It was an activity that always helped to clear his head. After a while he drew one, long, deep breath.

  Whatever the ethics of the situation, the die was now cast. All he could do was make sure the Alliance was as ready as it could be, and he was there to field whatever the situation threw at them next.

  Cordez could feel it in his bones. The conflict with the Invardii was entering the end game. The fate of the Human race was hanging in the balance.

  THE END

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  RISE OF THE VALKRETHI

  Fifth Book in the INVARDII series.

  Warwick Gibson.

  © 2019 Warwick Gibson.

  All Rights Reserved.

  DISCLAIMER.

  This novel is a work of fiction. It does not draw from actual events. The characters are entirely fictitious, and do not bear any resemblance to persons living or dead.

  ALSO by WARWICK GIBSON

  THE UNSOUND PRINCE (Sword and sorcery fantasy)

  ROUGH JUSTICE (Small town Chief of Police)

  ENEMY WITHIN (SAS action with some sci-fi content)

  The INVARDII Series

  CHAOS and RETREAT

  ANCESTRAL HOME

  MEDIEVAL PLANET

  BOXED SET: BOOKS 1 -3

  FEDIC VITS

  RISE OF THE VALKRETHI

  ANTARES CRUCIBLE

  BOXED SET: BOOKS 4 - 6

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  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21 CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23 CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25 CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27 CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29 CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 1

  ________________

  “Pass the godsdamn’t thing!” yelled Jeneen, thundering past on Andre’s right. Celia stood off from one of the pilots on the opposing team, frantically signaling she was free to take a pass. Unfortunately Andre was locked in a battle with Roberto, spinning this way and that as he tried to get the giant rubber ball past him. A whistle blew.

  “Foul by Blue five, take the penalty Red one!” bellowed a voice over the sound system.

  “That was not a foul!” protested Andre. “I slipped, and he threw himself at my elbow!”

  “Yeah, right,” came the voice of the umpire, not at all impressed.

  Roberto fired a long overhead pass to Cagill, who flicked it quickly on to Celia. She scrabbled for it with her fingers, getting jostled by her opposite number. Then she was able to claw it down into a safe position.

  There was a moment’s silence while she lined up the shot, followed by pandemonium when she landed it. The whistle blower tried futilely to restore a measure of order.

  “Game over, 16-12 to Red team,” he managed at last. The giant figures dwarfed the group of Human bystanders watching from behind a solid divide of unbreakable glass. The Valkrethi trudged off to the next cavern, where they would be stored in stand down mode.

  The bystanders began to discuss the game among themselves, but in an overhead gallery a more serious discussion was going on.

  “You’re saying we lost nearly five percent of the air in the cavern in that one game?” exclaimed Finch. He was consulting with the mining engineer who had sealed the internal surface so the Valkrethi could use the cavern for training.

  “There’s just too much mass in those things,” said the engineer, “and too many fractures in the rock under Prometheus.” He was a short man with an extravagant hairdo that towered over his head.

  The engineer brought Finch up to date on other problems the giant figures were creating in the bedrock of Neptune’s second largest moon, Proteus. The sprawling construction site known as the Prometheus project took up many square kilometers of surface above them, but a lot of it had been excavated into the moon itself.

  “How are the deep-space life support systems coming along?” asked Finch of the man next to the engineer. John MacEwart, head of construction at Prometheus, had insisted on being given a role in the assessment of the giant Valkrethi.

  “All check out fine,” said MacEwart. “We’re ready for a test in deep space any time you like.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’re not going out in one,” said Andre, who had climbed down from the hatch at the back of his mount and hurried upstairs to join them. He had come to see what Finch thought of the Valkrethi’s athletic abilities.

  “It’s not your life on the line if something goes wrong!” he added.

  Finch
smiled. He knew Andre would be the first to take his Valkrethi into any situation he was asked to.

  The research team who had tracked down the Valkrethi during their journey to the planet Orouth were all now ‘observers’, and had their own giant mounts. They were training alongside the Valkrethi pilots, and would be with them when they went to war. To do that safely they would need to be able to defend themselves, so they had been added to the training squad.

  “The Valkrethi’s reflexes are not yet second nature to the pilots,” chipped in MacEwart. “They’re having to think about most of the things they do.

  “16-12 is an abysmally low score for a game like this, particularly when the Valkrethi are capable of moving many times faster than a Human athlete.”

  “All right, all right!” said Finch, laughing at the interest the Valkrethi had aroused. “I understand you’re interested in what’s going on. You guys don’t get enough excitement in your lives!”

  He grabbed the engineer and steered him in the direction of the atmospheric controls for the cavern.

  “I don’t expect to train the Valkrethi down here for much longer,” he said to the man quietly, “but I need this place to hang together for a few more hours of exercises like today.”

  The engineer grumbled about the difficulties he was having just to keep the cavern functional, but he was already changing the settings. He did things to make the lining a little more flexible, and hopefully more air tight under impact.

  Finch was usually too busy with the demands of the giant Prometheus project to attend to things like this himself. But this was different. The arrival of the Valkrethi from caverns on Orouth, where they had been stored for something over 200 thousand years, had aroused an intense curiosity in everyone on the base.