“I do. I have no idea if it’ll work, but it’s the best one I can think of. I want all the planets inside the five-year zone to unite and fight as one. That coordinated and focused resistance might just work.”
Shielan spoke in a harsh tone. “And then again, it might just be a waste of time.”
“Yeah, little sister, but what else are you going to do?”
She shrugged. “Look up Bedford and start that party JoJo’s talking about.”
“Gross,” responded Jonnaha with a cringe. “Jon,” she said seriously, “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Interplanetary politics are an exercise in futility. Interstellar politics are far worse. You know that old joke about the gazelles? One says to the other that he doesn’t have to outrun the lion. He only must outrun the other gazelle? Well that’s a charitable summary of the these relationships on any scale when sovereignty combines itself with closed-minded politicians.”
“Amen, sister,” I breathed in reply.
“So, great Jon Ryan, have you had any luck up until now with your next plan to save everyone’s collective butts?”
I nodded my head to the side again. “Some. I have the robots of Langir and the fish tanks of Sotovir on board. They are moving to a total war footing and are anxious to coordinate with neighboring systems.”
“The Gorgolinians anxious about anything? You are good.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t eat you,” piped in Shielan.
“Nah, the sloshy bastards love me as much as you do.”
“Again, I can’t believe they didn’t eat you.”
“So, we work with the nearby systems and maybe we live? That’s easy to buy. Realistically, how many planets do you think you can win over?”
“Me? Probably none.”
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Jonnaha replied.
“Up until now I was willing to sacrifice and keep at it. But I have a big score to settle and only a few months to make it right. My immediate plans have changed.”
“Really? And what changed your plan such that throwing us under the bus makes it okay?”
“I met you, big sister.”
It took a second, but then she realized what I was saying. “Oh no, you’re not dumping that load of manure on top of me. It’s going to be nearly impossible for me to get this one planet working together. I don’t have time to gallivant across the cosmos like a traveling saleswoman too. No sir, no way, no how.”
“Aw, I bet you can just do it. You seem, I don’t know, kind of capable for a woman.”
“Oh, so now the legend tries to gall me into picking up a broom and following the circus parade. That isn’t about to work.”
I turned palms up and puffed out my lower lip. “Who knows? Maybe you can revert to the mega party plan? I haven’t been to one of those in ages. If you’re in good shape to start with, they can be a blast.”
“JoJo, he’s selling us out. Saved humankind once, now he figures that’s enough.” All that Shielan needed was a pair of Gucci shades and she’d capture that perfect MIB edge.
“Are you hanging around a few days at least. Give me a chance to show you off, and in doing so raise my own image for the tasks ahead?”
“Sure. For you, a few days. Plus, I’m dying to find that Bedford guy and beat the snot out of him.”
“For the record, he died five years ago,” said Shielan.
“Well then my finding him’ll be easier, won’t it?”
Shielan patted her hands on both arm rests and stood. “I need a drink. A bunch of them. Come on, legend boy. Our tour will include a stop at the Eternal Slumbers cemetery with a pair of shovels.”
“My kind of girl,” I said, standing myself.
“Oh, this is going to get ugly fast,” said Jonnaha. “I’m officially denying any knowledge of your soon to be actions.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Madame Prime Minister,” I announced. I held my elbow out to Shielan.
She hooked her arm in and turned to her sister. “Maybe the day after tomorrow. If you need me, Lord knows where I’ll be.”
Jonnaha just shook her head as we pranced out the door.
TWENTY-THREE
I spent a few days on Vorpace with Shielan. Nice. Most enjoyable. Then I spent a few days with Jonnaha doing the hey-I’m-famous dog and pony show. Un-nice. Most unenjoyable. Microphones in my face so close I nearly lost teeth. Questions so lame I nearly fell asleep while standing there. Mr. Ryan, what’s your favorite color? General Ryan, are the women of this century prettier than in your time? Hey, Jon, what’s it like to never have to pay for your own drink again or sleep with the same woman twice? Huh? Really, people, isn’t there anything important or even interesting you wanted to know from ask-a-legend?
But it was all part of drumming up publicity for the drive against the Adamant, so I took it like a man, albeit a whining man. In the end, I did good and had a little fun. Okay, a lot of fun. I tried to be a man of reserve and discretion, so sue me if I omitted enough details. Jonnaha, bless her heart, did take up the torch in terms of organizing as many local planets as possible into a mutual defense. I still didn’t know if it would work, but it was reassuring to know the Adamant were at least in for the fight of their lives. And if they faltered, that might just be enough to crack the Adamant solidarity and allow them to begin breaking apart. Hey, I could hope and dream. Sometimes they’re all that’s left to a body.
Given my early release from the mission, I had to decide what to do next. Eight months remained before Ralph would call in his marker. I had time on that front. I could return to Rameeka Blue Green and hug the kids some more, but I was just there, and Cala had only so much tolerance for me. There were always two issues in the back of my mind. Where was Evil Jon? How was Sapale fairing on Kaljax? I’d received word that the Adamant were hitting it very hard. It sounded melodramatic, but I died a little each day knowing Kaljax was likely in its death throes.
Kaljax it was. I needed to at least say one last goodbye to Sapale. Plus, if anyone knew EJ’s whereabouts, it was her. I was back to trying to land on a planet under Adamant attack, just like Azsuram. My spell of easy approaches in the outer Milky Way was over. It was nice while it lasted. Pooh. I knew the ever-resourceful Adamant had learned two ways of defeating my membrane. One, they could see me move against the background of stars. That was problematic, since space was bigger than immense. But if they looked hard enough, they could see me coming. The other development was being able to fire weapons into the membrane by passing them through another universe. The targeting had been crude, but knowing them, it would steadily improve. Thank goodness, they didn’t have membranes yet to be able to practice shooting into them on their schedule. I’d be in heap of trouble when that finally happened.
As Stingray approached Kaljax, it was clear the Adamant attack was in full swing. I was impressed. The skies above the planet were cluttered with Adamant ships. No Kaljaxian or other ships were left in orbit. Once we were closer, I saw that there were not only warships, but prison ships, manufacturing vessels, and orbiting medical facilities. There were several classes of craft circling above that I was unfamiliar with. I came later to learn that the battle for Kaljax was the first time the Adamant deployed cloning ships. Yeah, their rapid canovir reproduction rates weren’t fast enough, so they had instituted mass cloning of Warrior- class dogs. Hate them as I did, I had to admire the Adamant's drive and determination. They were willing to do anything to extend their rule. God help the rest of us was my only reaction.
I landed us in a remote region in rugged terrain. That way the Als could gather data easily with little risk of detection. The dogs of war were winning big time, yet again. In less than two months they’d vanquished and were in control of two-thirds of the planet. Sapale’s home, Talrid, was ground zero for Adamant abuse at the time. The Als showed me holos of the battles, though the word battle implied more than one combatant. In this case, there was a lot of Talrid going up in puffs of dust, and not too many Adamant ge
tting hit, let alone killed. There was tight coordination between the air groups and massive tank measuring nearly two hundred meters long. They looked like something out of a science fiction story, but they were as real and the mass damage they were inflicting.
Occasionally, a remaining squad of Kaljaxians would ambush a tank group. Despite hitting them with plasma cannons, rail cannons, and kitchen sink cannons, they barely dented the metal hides. I saw one mega-tank blow up, but only because it was hit with a tactical nuclear shell. Following the armored divisions were swarms—that’s the only way to describe them—of foot soldiers. Millions of them. If ten thousand were killed, twenty thousand quickly took their place. It was little wonder the Adamant had been so successful. They literally couldn’t lose. That EJ had held them in a stalemate on Azsuram was even more impressive in retrospect.
The city block where Sapale’s clan home was now laid behind the Adamant frontlines. Much of it was in ruin, but some structures remained. I couldn’t tell for certain with the images we could intercept, but it looked like Caryp’s place might have still been standing. I had Stingray materialize in one of the upstairs rooms, one that was both still there and unoccupied. We were in luck on both counts. I stepped into the room and was immediately hit with the stench of ozone. All the plasma discharges had whipped up so much it would have been hard for anyone having to breath to do so. There was also the one constant smell of a battlefield. Meat. Immediately after a battle, before any decay could begin, a battlefield smelled just the same as a butcher shop does. The correlation between the two always made me sick. It was a central part of the war is hell thing, knowing that at our core we were just meat on the hook was as upsetting a concept as I’d ever dealt with.
I had readied myself for battle before I stepped out of Stingray. I was stepping into what was called in the military a hot zone. I’d done it a million times. I hated it, but I was damn good at it. I strapped on my modified Sam Browne belt. I’d mounted two holsters and extra power packs on the waist. Across my chest hung a string of thermite grenades. My main weapon was an over-sized plasma rifle. Along with my laser finger and membrane, I was one dangerous man.
Al confirmed the top floor was empty before I exited. Out I jumped. I swept the room quickly. No one. I cleared each upstairs room. Never leave a bogey on your backside. All clear. I eased down the stairs, my rifle prowling the room all the time. I was looking up so much I almost tripped over a body. It was Fentort, the old butler. He’d been blown in half, a clevdar, an ancient ceremonial Kaljaxian sword, still clutched in his hand. At least the poor bastard went down fighting. I kicked open the door to the kitchen and scanned to room. Clear. By the look of Fentort and the general smell of the place, the fighting had passed though one, maybe two hours earlier.
No one else seemed to be in the house. There were no other bodies either. I was hoping for at least one Adamant corpse. I descended the steps into the cellar. I left the light off and closed the door behind me, so it was very dark. That didn’t bother me, but if anyone lay in wait, it would bother them. The first two storage rooms were clear. I gingerly turned the knob and pushed open the door to the food pantry. I dropped to a knee and slowly scanned the cluttered room. It had obviously been rummaged by the Adamant. Shelves were toppled, and the floor was littered with cans.
I started to back out when I hear the faintest scratch. Probably a rat. I dropped lower and slithered toward the sound. Nothing was out of the ordinary in that corner. I set my hand on the floor to rise and felt a tiny seam. It was a trap door. Outstanding. The Adamant had missed something. I rapped my knuckles softly on the panel. “I’m Jon Ryan,” I said in Hirn, “brood-mate to Sapale. I will not harm you. Don’t shoot. I’m opening the hatch.”
I dug my nails into the crack and lifted the door toward myself. I leaned back as I did so that no part of me was above the opening when it was complete. I set the panel down and turned the light emitters in my eyes way up. “I’m going to look down on you now. Don’t be scared and please don’t shoot.”
I poked my head over the lip and caught a quick glimpse, then pulled back in a snap. There were two small kids down there. Neither could be more than ten.
“I’m going to lift you out and get you to safety. Is that okay?”
A frightened shaky voice said, “Okay, mister.”
I leaned down and pulled them up one at a time. “I’m Jon. What’s your name?” I asked of the older child, a boy.
“Irtopal, Opalf.”
“Nah, just call me Jon. All my friends do.”
“And what’s your name, sweetie,” I said to the little girl.
“Sapale, Opalf.”
“That’s a pretty name. My brood’s-mate is named Sapale. I like that name a lot.”
She nodded uncertainly and looked to Irtopal for guidance.
“I’m going to take you upstairs to my ship. Then I’ll take you to where you will be very safe. Do either of you know where the adults went?”
Irtopal got an even more frightened look in his eyes. He knew something but had been told not to discuss it with strangers.
“Was my Sapale here today, before the bad men came?” I asked them jointly.
“Yes, J … Jon. She shot back at the bad men. Then she put us here because it was too dangerous to take us outside. Then she said she was going somewhere safe for a little while. She would be back to get us as soon as she could.”
“Wow, thank you Irtopal. That’s very helpful. And if you needed to find Sapale, did she say where she’d be?”
He nodded.
“Where is she hiding? It’s okay. You can tell me. I’m her brood-mate.”
“She … she said she was going to Pierced Mountain Preserve.”
Huh? I’d never hear of such a place.
“Do you know where that is, honey? Have you ever been to Pierced Mountain Preserve?”
That about did it. Irtopal had hit his emotional limits. He trembled pitifully and began to cry. Damn near broke my heart. I pulled the pair into a gentle embrace. “I know it’s scary, little ones. I’m scared too, but I will protect you. The bad men are gone.”
The cellar door opened with a crash. It was out of view, but I heard multiple paws scrapes flying down the stairs. Six, no seven dogs. Crap.
“The bad men are here. You two stay in the hole, and I’ll make them go away.”
I picked them up quickly and set them in the hiding place. I started to cover them when Irtopal cried out, “No, please. Not again.”
No time for discussion. I left the trapdoor half open and bolted from the panty. I hit the hallway just as the first two Adamant did. I shot them before they ever twitched a trigger finger. One launched backward and slammed into a third dog just rounding the corner. He attempted to push the body off himself and use the momentum to jump back to cover. Too slow. I blew his head off.
Four left. They were not charging forward, but I knew they would be calling for backup. With the kid so close, grenades were out of the question. I squat-walked forward, aiming at the door frame. When I was a meter from the door, I fire a rapid volley in a saw-toothed pattern into the wall. Plaster and wood weren’t going to stop plasma bolts. One howled in anguish, and one, maybe the same one, fell. Three others scampered in retreat.
I shoulder-rolled past the opening and fired quickly. I hit the one on the floor squirming on his side and one of the three flying toward the stairs. I lurched back to finish off the last two, but they’d turned and fired first. My membrane flashed on automatically, and the charges ricocheted off noisily. A wall burst into flames. Both Adamant charged. They fired to try and pin me down.
In an instant, I expanded my membrane and jumped to the side. I dropped the membrane before I hit the barrier and rolled to relative safety out of the line of fire. I kneeled and aimed at the doorway. Sure enough, they ran into sight and I dropped them. That was the seven of them, but backup would be here quickly. Probably were already.
I dashed back to the pantry, unceremoniously snat
ched up the kids and tucked them both under my left arm. Leading with my plasma rifle, I sprinted up the stairs. The kitchen was clear. I made for the entryway. Clear. What luck. Halfway up the stairs, my luck hanged. Multiple plasma bolts struck the steps, walls, and ceiling. I was moving too quickly for them to take good aim. That would change quickly.
At the top of the stairs, I jerked right toward Stingray. A plasma machine gun opened fire, ripping the hallway to shreds. One of my boots blew off. Quick check. Foot still present and accounted for. At top speed, I turned and returned fire. The machine gun exploded in the Adamant’s face and took out the dogs by his side. I bolted into the room, whipped my fibers up without releasing the kids. I vaulted for where the opening had better damn well appear. I was in and closed it as a massive volley of plasma bolts slammed against the hull.
I set the kids down roughly on the floor and attached my probes. “The valley we were in, now.”
Mild nausea.
“We’re there, Form.”
“Status report.”
“The immediate area is clear as before,” said Al immediately. “No signs of pursuit or detection.”
“Stay sharp and report any changes.”
“Aye, Captain,” they both responded.
I turned toward the kids clinging to one another where I’d put them.
“Okay, see, I was right. We’re safe now. The bad men are far away and can’t hurt you.” I guided them to their feet. “Here, let’s get you something warm to drink. Al, two warm coffees with plenty of cream.” Kaljaxians were insanely fond of Earth coffee. It was like opium to them.
Two mugs promptly appeared in the food fabricator. I took one in each hand and gave them to the kids. By then they were sitting in chairs at the table. I let them sip at their drinks for a few minutes, decompressing. They’d been through way more than kids could handle already. War really sucked.
When their mugs were low, and their heart rates were down, I spoke softly. “So, where did you say my Sapale went to?” Since it made no sense, I figured it might help to have him repeat it.
The Fires Of Hell Page 19
