Lesset perked his ears. “Who made that treasonous estimate?”
“I believe a computer in the Reiteration Section.”
Lesset turned his head to Bethalmayus for the first time. “Someone must have asked the computer to perform that simulation.”
Bethalmayus was torn. He knew it was dicey to speak truth to Lesset. He also felt it was an interesting point that some world might have stood a fighting chance against the Adamant if conditions were different.
“Perhaps it was an AI, Lord. Would you like for me to find out for certain?”
He snarled back his lips silently. “No. Let it pass this time. But circulate word. I do not want subversive speculations encouraged at any level by anyone.”
“Lord,” he returned with a bow.
“And the most populous planet, the humanoid one?”
“Vorpace, Lord. Yes. The conflict proceeds within two percent of our predictions. Most major cities have fallen, and the skies are ours.”
“Two percent?” Lesset rested his cup onto its saucer. “That’s a large variance for a world with that technical level.”
“Yes, it is, but only slightly statistically significant. Whole Master Bingumon attributes the slight delay to the possible presence of The Dreaded One. He is as of …” He trailed off speaking when he glanced up and noticed Lesset’s expression. Shock, hatred, and vehement anger. Not good, reflected Bethalmayus. “Is th … there a … an issue, Lord?”
“Some individual thought it necessary to keep me in the dark when it was possible that the archenemy of the empire was on the ground on Vorpace? Is it no longer an Adamant’s duty to use his brain in my service?”
Bethalmayus’s outlook went from really bad to extremely awful. “I, to tell the tr … truttthh just learned of th … this fact as you c … called my name alouddd, Lord.” He tried to swallow. “I am … am p … personally outraged, L … Lord.”
“No, Bethalmayus. It is not yours to be outraged. That burden rest solely on my back.” He handed his cup and saucer to his assistant. “Hold this while I pour a refill, will you?”
“Of course, Lord.” Naturally Bethalmayus held the saucer at arm’s length, just in case.
Lesset lifted the large carafe of tea and removed the lid. Steam curled up abundantly from the opening. He reached and hovered the pot over the cup momentarily, then redirected it to above Bethalmayus’s head. There he emptied the entire content onto the Wing Leader’s scalp. Defying belief, the Wing Leader did not scream in anguish. Lesset returned the carafe to its holder and took his saucer from the trembling Bethalmayus.
“Where was I?” Lesset asked.
“You had just learned of that Jon Ryan might be on Vorpace, Lord.”
“Ah yes. Please triple the number of battle cruisers, quadruple the number of long-range wolf scout craft, and quintuple the number of footlings on the ground. I want Jon Ryan. I prefer him alive, but I will settle for him heaped in a basket. Is that clear, Under Footling Bethalmayus? Make certain your replacement here understands that?”
“Lord.”
TWENTY-ONE
I slowly climbed the hill, staying low and going slow. Now that I was clear, I wanted to stay that way. I stopped at dusk around three hundred meters altitude. There was a panoramic view from here, and I could see infrared traces of anyone coming. I checked in with Sapale.
“Earthman One to Mamacita,” I said into my headset.
Nothing. Hmm. I ran a quick diagnostic on the unit. It was working fine. Maybe they were out of range? Hardly, unless they left the planet. My unit had a range of only a few hundred klicks. I switched to my internal link, like the one I had with the Als.
You there, brood’s-mate?
Still nothing. I started to worry. Could they have been overrun? Not likely with the membrane up and the vortex ten feet away.
Sapale, do you copy?
Nada. They were either out of range, which was extremely unlikely, or they had up a full membrane.
Al, you there? Stingray?
No response. Not surprising, since they were with Sapale, duh. But their non-answer supported the notion they were cloaked, since destroying Stingray was beyond even the Adamant. But that meant yours truly was completely on his own. Even if I stole a ship, I’d never escape the Adamant’s orbital chokehold on the planet. I’d only be able to leave this rock by folding or warping away. Funny, that made me flash on Gorilla Boy. Maybe he was in range? I could call him and Whoop Ass back to carry me to safety? Nah. I’d rather be captured and tortured than deal with that addle-brained AI. Some things are worth avoiding. GB was a pass for me.
I really didn’t have a list of options, so I hunkered down and made the best of a long wait. Hey, if it was long enough, Ralph could come rescue me. Gallows humor if ever there were. What I really missed then was a can of beans. Yeah, soldiers in combat freezing in the night air ate unheated beans from a can. That’s how it was way back when I was human. Funny the things I missed.
I spent the night hacking Adamant communications. I could drop in on quite a bit. What I heard confirmed what I’d experienced myself. The bad guys were kicking butt. Any lingering resistance was quieting, and more forces were on the way. I was impressed to hear The Dreaded One was on Vorpace. The emperor himself instructed every grunt to do their best to capture the unwashed heathen. I was an unwashed heathen. It had to be a promotion of some kind, up from hated scourge. Unfortunately, I learned that dawn would bring selective bombardments of the planet. This was to help suppress resistance, as well as potentially flush me out. Safe areas were delineated, and all ground forces were ordered to be in one before dawn, or they’d be subject to being exploded along with the targets.
I compared the maps of safe areas to my position. None were nearby. I didn’t have access to the maps that told me which areas were about to be lit -up, but this far up a hill seemed like an unlikely target. Later that night, I intercepted announcements that similar mop-up bombardments would take place on the other eleven planets included in this operation. Man, these guys were depressingly thorough.
Along with eavesdropping, I tried again to raise Sapale. I also spent the cold night thinking back on happier times. Those would be other times, since the current ones sucked something awful.
First light found me on the move. The fireworks would commence in just under an hour. I wanted to be higher up and tucked into a ravine. I scaled ever-increasing obstacles and kept an ear out for intruders. My progress was fast and unencumbered.
When precisely one percent of the sun had cleared the horizon, all hell broke loose. Fire leapt from the heavens, and the ground cried out in torment as far as my eyes could see. I cursed the Adamant even more, knowing the same insanity was springing to life on eleven other worlds. I cursed myself even more. I’d failed them too. They could join the club, the swelling ranks of those I’d let down and allowed to die a horrible, pointless death.
When a path of explosions began ascending my hillside, I determined I wasn’t going to move. I hoped the blast line went right over me, sparing me from any further testing. I was done.
Then I heard something unexpected. Or rather, I didn’t hear what I expected. Slowly at first, then almost as one, the guns in the sky fell silent. I looked up and went to maximal amplification. I had no idea what I was seeing. I’d never seen anything like it in my very long life. There were faint streaks of light, no flames, way high up. They looked like strings of fireflies from a distance. I wondered what they were.
**********
In the heavens above Vorpace, as well as its eleven sister-suffering planets, the emptiness of space was replaced with dragons. Big dragons. Some were brilliant silver, others steely gray. One large group was a gleaming bronze, while another clan was a vibrant copper. One, and only one, was the color of purest gold.
They flew gracefully in the airless void, sweeping down on one warship after another. A gossamer trail of fire leapt from their throats and struck the vessels as they passed. Where touched,
the hulls vaporized like butter tossed into a raging bonfire. Then the ships exploded with a flash of brilliance before becoming nothing more than the newest additions to the frigid dust occupying endless space.
In a handful of heartbeats, the Adamant fleet was transfigured from unstoppable to unidentifiable. And when the last ship in the sky was gone, the dragons descended like angels of death toward each planet’s surface. Adamant forces huddled together and fired off massive, yet ineffectual volleys of power at the oncoming firestorm. Where they stood or lay or hid cowering, the fine-fire touched them, and they were gone. It was as if they had never existed. By ones and twos, by thousands and tens of thousands, they became one with nothingness. Bitter memories of them would linger for decades, but no actual substance of them would ever be detected, seen, smelled, or mourned.
And when the dragons of Nocturnat, along with one lone dragon from Locinar, were finished erasing what had been the scourge of the Adamant from that now blessed segment of the galactic periphery, they soared, calling out in victory. They ascended into the darkness from whence they came, and they disappeared. But, unlike the now dispersed dust of the Adamant war machine, they had not vanished. They had simply returned home after completing their task.
TWENTY-TWO
After the dragons left, I had to confirm that most of the Adamant ground forces were gone. There were no obvious signs, but a frightened wounded animal in hiding was the hardest to deal with. I jogged back into the city and started clearing buildings. At first, I found no one, friend or foe. Then I began collecting the scattered remnants of the police and army units that had been defending the city.
By the time we reached center city, we were about a thousand strong. A few citizens who never evacuated tagged along too. We ran into no living Adamant. Their corpses were strewn everywhere. The ones I passed had died from typical blast patterns. The one the dragons must have slain were simply gone. When we came upon one of their great war machines, it was only partially present. Massive sections were simply gone, no singe marks or flash scars. Search as we might, we did not locate even one injured Adamant. They were all dead, in the air and on the ground. Most were simply gone.
I had identified the senior officer present and called him over. “Well, Major, it looks like you’re in command here. I suggest you choose who will serve just below you and start organizing your forces.”
“He returned a salute. What about you, General Ryan. Aren’t you in command here?”
“No. For one thing, I’m an alien. You’re in the chain of command somewhere. I also won’t be hanging around too long, I suspect. When someone senior shows up, you can pass the torch. But until then, you da man. I grant you a battlefield promotion, but again, I’m not your senior officer.”
“Fine, sir. Will do. If you’ll excuse me, I have a society to rebuild.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said, returning his salute.
Sapale, are you there? Do you copy?
Still nothing. I decided I’d better make the trek to HQ to see if anything was left intact. Even as I departed, the major was forming up platoons and sending them off in various directions to explore. The civilians were tasked with scrounging for food and water. Exactly what I’d have done.
The city wasn’t in complete ruin, but it was pretty torn up. A few habitable structures remained, but most would have to be razed to make room for the new eventually. When I came across stragglers, I directed them toward city center. If what I observed was typical, then a lot of the humans had survived. Intermittently, I called out to Sapale, but I never heard a peep back. Another town square was functioning as the aggregation point for military and civilian survivors. I found the woman who appeared to be in charge.
“Yo, there’s another gather spot in the square about a klick that way.”
“St. Germain’s Garden, the one with the old clock tower?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Only a third of an old tower now.”
“Damn Adamant. No respect for useless old monuments.” She turned to a soldier close by. “Hanzell, get over to Saint Germain’s and let them know we’re here. Leave them your radio if they don’t have one.”
“Ma’am.” He saluted and jogged away.
“So you’re the android, right?”
I leaned over and extended me hand. “Jon Ryan. Nice to meet you.”
“Anchee Payette,” she responded shaking back. She smirked. “Never met a legend before.”
“Want me to sign some concealed body part?”
“Nah, I’m good. Hey, you see any live Adamant since that whatever it was?”
“Nope. Only the ones we killed before the dragons magically poofed them away.”
“Come again.”
“Those were flying fire-breathing dragons that vaporized the entire invasion force. It was a miracle. Didn’t you see them?”
She stared at me in disbelief a moment. “Yeah, little tiny ones with flowers glued to their butts.” She spaced her fingers a couple inches apart and held them up. “Ryan, did you take any shrapnel to the head?”
Once I got a look at HQ, or rather what was left of it, I knew why those present jumped into Stingray and split. The building was a wreck. The large situation room was even worse. There were signs of an intense firefight, but there were also clear indications the place had been ransacked roughly after the fighting stopped. Of course, ripping apart your enemy’s command center was a good idea. I was impressed yet again with Adamant thoroughness.
I figured the vortex was gone, not just under a full membrane, but I decided to check. I meticulously went around the room, poking my rifle into every space to see if bounced off some invisible object. In the end, there was nothing. Sapale had taken the vortex somewhere. Oh well. She’d hear of the bizarre victory sooner or later and return, probably to HQ itself. I could kick back and wait for their return. Plus, I had time to make up a wild story about how I single-handedly saved the day. If given enough time, I’d concoct a cock-and-bull story excluding the dragons altogether. All right, I was in my wheelhouse.
A few hours later, Stingray silently appeared. Crap. I hadn’t had time to tighten up the weaker aspects of my BS tale. The hull formed a portal, and Sapale cautiously stuck her head around to sneak a peek. Instead of bloodthirsty Adamant, she saw me, feet up on a table, wiggling my fingers in greeting.
“There you are,” I said nonchalantly, “you were almost late for dinner. I’d give the soufflé five minutes tops before it’s into the garbage.”
She relaxed and stepped out of Stingray. “Soufflé? Do you know what I’d really like? An explanation as to what the fuck happened. One minute we’re fighting for our lives, and the next you’re sitting here with that cat-eating-shit grin on your face I’ve hated for billions of years.”
I shrugged and turned my palms up silently replying, what can I say.
Shielan was next out. She swept the room with her rifle until she was sure it was safe. “Y’all can come out now. The room’s secure.”
“Shie-shie” asked Sapale, “may I borrow your weapon?”
She flicked her head and tossed it over. Sapale rested it not so gently on my forehead. “You have three seconds. What happened, or I shoot. And if you give me your BS version of how you single-handedly …”
I eased the gun off my skin. “Okay,” I cut her off, “it was the Plezrite. They appeared out of nowhere and destroyed the entire bleeping Adamant force.”
“Could you release my gun, so I can shoot you.”
“No, Sapale, it’s Davdiad’s own truth. Once we’re outside, you can randomly stop someone in the street and ask them.”
Her stern face softened. “Are you okay?”
I pointed to my chest. “Me? Are you serious? Of course, I’m okay. I’m Jon Freaking Ryan.”
She whacked me alongside the head with the rifle and then threw it back to Shielan. “How soon after we left did they show up?”
“I don’t know when you split. The Plezrite struck at daw
n, here and on the other eleven planets under attack.”
She whistled softly. “That’s a lot of dragons.”
“Millions.”
Sapale was silent, but I knew exactly what she was thinking. With a Plezrite army of millions, we could wipe the Adamant out as a species. We could reclaim our galaxy and restore order and justice.
Then she shook her head to clear it. “What did they say? Why did they wait until the second day after millions were slaughtered?”
“They never said a word. When the Adamant were no more, they left.”
“Don’t make me retrieve that weapon,” she menaced.
“Serious as a bullet to the face, they never made contact. They just did their thing and disappeared.”
“Why would they do that?” asked Jonnaha as she stepped out of Stingray.
“Maybe because they did it for their own reasons, not to save us. They figured they didn’t need our permission, thanks, or praise to help themselves.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” she replied. “It does suggest they aren’t interested in joining in our alliance. That’s a crying shame. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”
Damn, Jonnaha was right. I hadn’t thought of it yet, but did I really believe we’d defeated the Adamant? If I knew them, and I did, they’d be back in greater number and with worse attitudes. Then if the Plezrite didn’t show, the twelve planets would be toast. Total armageddon, no one left alive and no blade of grass unsinged.
“We need to find out for sure, don’t we?” I said standing.
“We absolutely must,” responded Jonnaha.
“What, are we going to Nocturnat now?” asked Sapale.
“Why wouldn’t we?” asked Jonnaha.
“Because your world is in ruins, and you’re the leader, maybe.”
“If the Plezrite aren’t fully onboard, the rubble out there and those who stand upon it are doomed anyway.”
Dragon Fire (Galaxy On Fire Book 5) Page 11
