President Stormborn shrugged. “Those are my terms.”
“Never,” said Jack. “I can’t let you do it, I can’t let you replace one tyranny with another.”
“You MUST!” shouted the President, grabbing Jack by the front of his blue spacesuit.
“No!”
Stormborn’s eyes bored into Jack’s like sulphuric acid. “Look out there,” said the President, his hand seeming to gather up a fistful of crosses. “How many more Jack? How many more?”
Jack looked out at the sea of crosses, at a solitary hearse plodding its way up the slick black lane, then at the column of smoke in the distance. Misery heaped on misery. He couldn’t do it to them, not now, not after all that had happened, all that he had seen. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he said finally, “on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you absolve me and my crew of all responsibility for the earlier attack, that you tell the truth about the Scourge.”
“That’s it?”
Jack nodded.
A cold smile crossed the President’s face. Like an executioner’s, Jack thought.
My own…
Chapter Twenty-Nine: New Realities
“You did what?” said Vyleria.
“I formed an alliance,” said Jack, trying to look her in the eyes. “I did what was needed, what was necessary.”
“Yes, but with STORMBORN. Need I remind you that he’s tried to kill us many times!”
“I know all that,” said Jack. “But it was the only way to protect Earth; what has happened between the President and us in the past is irrelevant; it’s about survival now.”
“He’ll try to kill you again,” said Grunt.
“I…”
“He’s right,” said Padget. “Perhaps you should listen to Vyleria and call this thing off whilst you still have time.”
“I’m calling off nothing,” said Jack, trying not to sound as angry as he felt. “It’s my decision and mine alone, besides Stormborn isn’t going to betray his own people.”
“You’ve got that right,” said Kat. “Look.”
Jack looked at the images that were appearing on the view screen. It was New York. There were crowds of people, chanting, running, screaming. It was a riot… no it was a parade, a celebration. Many of the participants were carrying placards, banners, signs. Each one bore a smiling, benevolent face, hands raised aloft in victory.
“Is that…”
“Stormborn,” said Jack, an uneasy feeling rising in his stomach. “He’s saying that he’s won, that we’ve surrendered.”
“Which we have in a way,” said Padget. Jack fixed him with an icy glare. “Or at least that is how he has spun it.”
“Well at least it can’t get any worse,” said Kat.
“It just did,” said Vyleria, looking intently at the view screen. “Is that London?”
“Yes,” said Jack, following her gaze.
“And Moscow,” said Grunt.
“Beijing is the same,” said Padget, looking at another monitor.
“They all are,” said Jack.
“But I don’t get it,” hissed Xylem, “I thought he had already proclaimed himssself leader of the whole world?”
“He had,” said Jack, looking slightly pale. “But this – our supposed surrender – has given him legitimacy in the eyes of the whole world; they’ll do anything for him now.”
“It could be a good thing,” said Vyleria.
“How?”
“It could make them obey him, make them more willing to fight against the Scourge.”
“I suppose so,” said Jack, “but it could still get worse.”
“I doubt you can sink much lower than this,” said Padget.
Jack paled visibly. “I’m appearing on TV with him in a few minutes.”
“You’re what?”
“I agreed to it as part of the treaty negotiations,” said Jack, looking intently at Vyleria. “I thought that it would be a good thing, that it would help us inform the whole world as to our true intentions. I will also have the opportunity to disseminate the latest intelligence on the Scourge; I thought I could kill two birds with one intergalactic stone.”
“Evidently you were wrong,” said Padget.
“It looks that way, yes,” said Jack.
“But you are going to cancel, aren’t you?” said Vyleria. “Now that the President has been shown to be duplicitous.”
Jack shook his head. “No Vyleria, I’m not. If I have to lie and pretend we’ve surrendered in order to gain an ally, then that is what I am going to do; the future is at stake.”
“Yes, I know that, but…”
“But nothing Vyleria. It’s now or never, this is our one chance to end this war and I’m going to take it.”
“Okay then let me go with you,”
“No Vyleria, this is something that I have to do on my own. I can’t risk you getting hurt in case it’s a trap, besides if they see an…
“If they see an alien? Was that what you were going to say?”
“I know it sounds awful Vyleria, but it’s true; I don’t want to drive any more wedges between us and Earth, there are too many as it is.”
“You’re embarrassed, of your alien girlfriend and your alien friends.”
“No, I… that’s not what I meant, Vyleria…”
“Oh, just go Jack!” shouted Vyleria, storming out of the room. “We’ll keep ourselves occupied whilst you gallivant around Earth with President Stormborn.”
“Vyleria…”
“She’s right,” said Padget. “You are ashamed of us.”
“No, I’m not, I just want to seal this alliance and your presence on the television could only inflame situations, you’ve seen how Stormborn twists things and manipulates people.”
“Maybe so,” said Kat. “But we are your friends and at the end of the day you should be taking our side, not his. We’ve been through so much together.”
“I…” Jack put his head in his hands. What was he doing? Had he made the right decision?
“Just go Jack,” said Grunt. “And think about what we’ve all said; we’ve come too far to spoil our friendship.”
“Who said anything about ruining our friendship?” said Jack, looking-up. But it was too late, they had already left the room. He was alone.
“So, tell me again,” said the Wolf news anchor. “Why is it that we should be fighting the Scourge?”
“Because if you don’t you’ll be attacked and destroyed like all the other planets, together we may just have a chance.”
“So, you say,” said the news anchor. “But why should we – the American people – take the word of an aggressor…”
“I already told you,” said Jack. “That wasn’t us, it was…”
“Do you expect me to believe that a ten-foot-tall walking volcano attacked Earth and killed millions of people?”
“Yes…”
“It’s a fanciful story at best, damn lies at its very worst; I’m certain the American people…”
“But I’ve offered you proof.”
“You mean these so-called videos?” said the dark-haired man, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yes, they have been authenticated by the Pentagon, NASA too.”
“Perhaps, but it’s also just as likely that you faked them, tampered with them in some way.”
“Faked them? Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know you tell me?” said the man, staring at Jack with his hawk-like eyes.
“I…” This is going badly, thought Jack. Very badly…
“Well if you won’t provide an explanation for the American people, I will,” continued the man. “You faked those videos so that you can gain our trust, enter into our confidence, access our secrets...”
“Why would I do that?” asked Jack.
“After being defeated by our forces, by our nation’s revolutionary spirit it was no doubt the only option left to you; you wanted to conquer us from the inside.”
“Is that what you think, that your forces were victorious?”
“This isn’t my opinion Jack, this is established fact; I received a briefing from President Stormborn himself just a few minutes before we went on air; he says that you had no chance but seek a negotiated settlement, that our TR3-bs had you beaten.”
Jack laughed. “So, your TR3-bs were doing all their conquering from Mars, were they?”
“What?”
“That’s where they were when we arrived before we re-took our spaceship; there was no valiant defence, no quick-witted strategy; you ran and hid.”
The news anchor’s eyes bored into Jack’s like corkscrews. “I’m sure the American public won’t be pleased to hear that you are accusing their armed forces of cowardice.”
“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” said Jack. “I’m sure they were only following the orders of their commander-in-chief.”
“Do you expect me to believe…”
“I don’t care what you believe,” said Jack. “America, the people, God. All I know is that you better take me at my word that the Scourge are coming, or else…”
“Or else what?”
“Or else they will come down here in their fleets of mangled metal and enslave you all, combatant and non-combatant alike.”
“It sounds like a sci-fi movie,” said the man, smirk spreading across his face like a scar.
“This isn’t Hollywood,” said Jack. “This is intergalactic Armageddon, solar genocide.”
“So, you keep saying,” said the news anchor, still grinning. “But I’ll let the audience decide that. Now, let’s talk about these aliens you have befriended.”
“You don’t have to put it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like they are weird… monsters.”
“I didn’t say anything to suggest that at all Jack.”
“It was in your tone, you insinuated it.”
“No, I didn’t; I think you are being paranoid Jack, I think you have spent too long in space. You are very young after all…”
“What’s age got to do with it?”
“Everything. Do you think that the American people and the rest of the world’s citizens are willing to put their lives into the hands of a sixteen-year-old boy? It’s insane.”
“Listen, I have more combat experience than most of the soldiers on this planet combined, and I’m the best space pilot to boot; there is no one more suitable to lead this fight than myself.”
“That’s if we take you at your word,” said the news anchor, smiling into the camera. “Some of us may just treat that claim with a healthy dose of skepticism.”
“That’s your prerogative,” said Jack.
“Yes, it is,” said the news anchor. “Now tell me again about this alien you are dating, Vyloo…”
“Vyleria.”
“Oops sorry I forgot,” said the man, chuckling into his hand. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, has she been tested for bacteria, infections? She could transmit her germs to you and then the entire world. If we are not careful we could be faced with a contagion, a new Black Death.”
“That’s ridiculous…”
“Have you tested her?”
“For what?”
“For alien organisms, lethal strains of bacteria, new pathogens; the World Health Organisation is already asking questions…”
“Of course, I’ve not checked her, I love her. I would never… besides if she did have transmittable diseases I would have found out by now, the ship’s med bay…”
“You are asking me and the American people to take a lot on trust.”
“Please yourself,” said Jack, looking directly at the camera. “The Scourge are coming whether you like it or not. We have days, perhaps hours left. We either stand together or die alone; it’s your choice.”
“Such colourful language,” quipped the news anchor.
“It’s the truth,” said Jack, getting to his feet. “And it’s all I’ve got right now.”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here,” said Jack, ripping off his microphone. “Somewhere that makes more sense at least.”
“Hey, you can’t do that; wait…”
“I can do whatever I want,” said Jack, looking directly into the camera again. “And so, can you. Don’t be led off a precipice by these fools. The enemy is at hand, we are under attack. Fight for the future or else be consigned to the past.”
Jack slammed the door shut behind him, walked down the corridor, then jumped out of an open window.
The wind greeted him like a furious barrier, blowing at his face, tussling him with its myriad hands. He fell down and down and down, one hundred floors disappearing in an instant. He activated his rocket boots just as his lips were about to kiss the tarmac, soaring up into an oil black sky, the stars arraigned like a glittering coronet.
He saw his spaceship in orbit above the North Pole and flew towards it instantly. He had had enough of humans and their petty ways to last a lifetime. There was only one person on his mind now.
Vyleria.
Chapter Thirty: War Games
The dreadnut lunged for Jack’s head, eyes set on death and dismemberment.
He caught its mechanical arm just in time, the sliver of cold metal poised just above his throat. Down and down it pushed, homing in on his jugular.
It was about to slice through his neck when he slammed his left knee into its ribs.
Crack.
And again.
Crack.
Over and over like a demented pendulum. Desperate to escape, to breathe, to live. But still it pressed and seethed like a tsunami. The sharp metal was against his skin now, drawing blood, piercing deeper and deeper.
There was a violent flash of red light and then its head exploded in a chaos of blood, brains and metal. Jack kicked off the smoking corpse and looked behind him.
“Are you going to lie there all day or are you going to join this battle?”
Jack looked-up at Vyleria. She was dressed head to toe in a tight-fitting red spacesuit. Her hair and eyes were redder than ever; even her skin seemed to glow. She looked like a comet or a rose or both.
“There’s no use gawping Jack, there’s a war on,” she said, swiveling round to decapitate a female dreadnut with knotted green hair.
“But…”
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, looking down Broadway at the massed ranks of dreadnuts. The buzzing was intense, raucous, like all the world’s sports stadiums combined. There were too many of them; they were being overrun, surrounded. New York would fall, then America, then the world. The dreadnuts and the Scourge were unstoppable. There was no hope, there never was. It was all over. “You were wondering why now, why this?”
Jack nodded his head, got to his feet. “They need the practice,” said Vyleria, glancing down the rubble-strewn street.
“Is that Xylem?” asked Jack, looking at a gun-toting figure standing on top of a lamp-post. Dozens of dreadnuts lay at his feet, their corpses smoldering.
“And there’s Padget and Kat.” Vyleria pointed in the direction of the Empire State Building. Two figures were balanced on a ledge as they rained fire upon the horde massing below.
“And Grunt?”
“In D.C; he’s got the whole city to himself. I expect he has them on the run even now…”
“But Vyleria, it’s just a simulation, an act; it won’t be like this for real, the Scourge won’t let us.”
“I know,” she said looking him in the eyes. Her pupils were like pools of molten lava. Jack felt like he could melt right into them. Sometimes that was all he wanted to do, to lose himself in her and not come back. But there was always duty, responsibility, sacrifice; he had an entire planet, galaxy to save. Love would have to wait until later. Always later… “But it’s good practice for them,” she said.
“Even if they are losing?” said Jack.<
br />
“What do you mean?”
“Look,” said Jack, nodding in the direction of Xylem. One second, he was mowing down a procession of dreadnuts, the next he was falling to the pavement, a huge breeze block caving in the side of his head. His body disappeared under a mass of metal and mechanical limbs. “They learn, adapt.”
“Never could understand why our shields are impervious to most energy weapons and yet are vulnerable to brute force,” said Vyleria.
“That’s because we are the architects,” said Jack. “We need to figure out how to update our shielding.”
“You mean if we weren’t engaged in a never-ending war that saps all our energy and time?”
“Exactly,” said Jack allowing himself a brief smile.
“I suppose they will learn from it,” said Vyleria through gritted teeth, as Padget and Kat crashed through the roof of a yellow taxi.
“I hope so,” said Jack, drawing his space sword. “Because we haven’t got long left. What we learn here may save thousands of lives on the real Earth.”
“So, you got your alliance then?”
“Yes. Listen Vyleria, about before…”
“Shh,” she said, holding his hand. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not…”
“I saw the TV interview,” she said, her grip tighter than ever. “I heard what they said about you, about us. As much as I hate to admit it our presence there would have only inflamed the situation and we can ill afford that.”
“Sometimes I think I’m from a different planet,” said Jack, seeing the news anchor’s smug face again.
Vyleria smiled. “What’s that for?” asked Jack.
“You could be right.”
“What do you mean?”
“This experience, meeting us, being on the spaceship, exploring the universe, it’s changed you, for the better, allowed you to grow; same goes for all of us.”
He nodded his head slowly. “I just wish my planet would catch up,” he said. “I thought that after the Asvari alliance they would develop at a quicker pace, embrace the universe, other cultures.”
“And they will,” said Vyleria, “but they’ve been through a lot. Two interstellar wars in a year, it’s a wonder they are not all genocidal maniacs.”
Jack Strong and The Last Battle Page 11
