by Reg Franklin
Carter ground his teeth. “So, it’s a coup then? One decision you and the people don’t like and you seize power for yourself?”
Kelly opened the doors, not even looking at Carter now. “If that helps you sleep better at night. I prefer to think of it as saving our lives. Even yours, Randolph.”
Kelly bee lined straight for his shuttle. Zath was waiting aboard. Kelly had not trusted the Council’s offer of allowing the Prelt to stay on Earth, requesting that Zath return to the ship while he spoke with Carter.
“Zath, can you contact the other Prelt ambassadors using our equipment?”
+I am no technician, but I believe so, with a few modifications. May I ask as to the why?+
“Because we’re going to war, and I would like to volunteer Earth as the meeting place for the alliance.”
+C’r-t’r saw the error of his ways?+
“Nope. So we’re doing this my way.”
---
The John Alex returned to Europa, overloaded with the wounded from Centauri Base. Jennifer followed in the Naz, making room for escape craft in the landing bay. Once the wounded were off-loaded, she sought out Lami.
+J’n...Jennifer.+ The female Prelt was making a conscious effort to correct her pronunciation of human names, removing the clipped syllables. +If you are seeking Johnathon, he is resting. So many wounded.+
“Actually, Lami, I was looking for you.” Jennifer entered the science lab.
+More questions about Aster?+ Her eyes dimmed.
“No. I fought off several Vandle who invaded the ship. And they said some phrases I hoped you might be able to translate.”
Lami’s eyes brightened. +Their language is based off ours, so I may be able to help, yes.+
“Okay, good. That’s good.” Jennifer sat down. “The first one I saw shouted something like ‘fing-louie Lavnabren gras-fith agin wuh-gal’.” Jennifer reproduced the alien syllables phonetically.
+Ah, a demand. ‘The Void Queen commands your death’ is the closest your tongue comes.+
“Okay, the next one started strangling me, and was in the middle of saying something when it died. ‘Lavnabren crew le-ku erta cud-oo-wah’.”
Lami’s eyes dimmed as she processed the phonetics into their closest Prelt equivalent. +Basically, ‘The Void Queen hungers for your’ is all it was able to say. If I may be allowed a hypothesis, I would guess it would have completed the phrase with either the word ‘p’nath’, which is flesh, or ‘d’k’, which refers to one’s life essence. The animating force, if you will, of a living being.+
“We call it a soul.” Jennifer replied.
Lami’s eyes brightened again. +’Soul’, I like this word! It is simple but conveys a very complex process.+
“So, you’d guess it was saying that the Lavnabren will eat my soul?”
Lami nodded, a habit she’d picked up from West. It was almost comical how she was adopting human mannerisms in an attempt to fit in.
“Two more charged me, and they said the next phrase together. ‘Heh-tha cuh-thu Lavnabren Vandleifdulus gad-reh-a.’”
+’The Lavnabren and the Vandleifdulus shall be your end’. A foolish boast, but a common war-cry for them.+
It was Jennifer’s turn to nod, and brace herself for the final, hauntingly familiar phrase. “All right, last one. It was immobilized, and it said ‘barra-stra-dok-Salk’art.’”
Lami recoiled slightly. +An old, profane curse. Unpleasing. You are sure it said that?+ Jennifer nodded. +Bluntly, ‘The shriek of your soul, is song to the Salk’art’.+
“You said ‘d’k’ was soul? Does that mean ‘stra’ is ‘shriek’?”
+Indeed! You have a command of their tongue already!+ Lami’s eyes glowed bright.
“Lami, what if I told you there is a man named ‘Stragdoc’ out there?” The look on Jennifer’s face was haunted.
The glow in Lami’s eyes intensified in shock. +Surely not! Not among humans!+
“Not...exactly. He leads what you call the near-humans.”
Lami stood in horror. +I must be permitted access to a communications device! We sent an envoy to them, they’ll be slaughtered!+
Jennifer stood too, trying to soothe the now agitated alien. “He’s an ass, but I don’t think he’d just open fire on your ships.”
+You do not understand, Jennifer! He is what you would call the Soulshrieker! A subject of ancient prophecy!+
“What?” Jennifer fell heavily to her seat again, head swimming.
Lami moved quickly to her side. +I am sorry! I did not know Prelt superstition would upset you so!+
Jennifer swallowed. “I think we’d better get the Admiral and Dr. West. And then you need to tell us this prophecy.”
21.
Chris marched down to the labs, not in a good mood. He’d only just finished supervising the off-loading of both the Centauri survivors, and the few bodies that they’d been able to recover. One was his friend, Commander Baker, who was killed when a Vandle ram-ship had blasted into the orbiting station, blowing him into the hard vacuum of space. Then Chris received a message from Earth, updating him on the battle over his home, and that the Global Council had first rejected Zath’s request for an alliance, but in a matter of hours, some kind of coup had happened and that Young was now running the government.
Then he’d received the panicked message from Jennifer, and had just about had it with this day. “All right, what’s so damned important?” Chris barked upon entering the lab.
“Lose the attitude, Admiral, you need to hear this.” Jennifer snapped from her seat.
“If I may speak freely, sir, I wholeheartedly agree with Ms. Safyo here.” West sighed. “We may have a great problem.”
Chris took a calming breath. “Okay. I’m sorry, but there is a metric ton of problems we already have. This can’t wait?”
+No, Admiral, I do not believe it can. Not when the Str’a-d’k has revealed itself.+
That got Chris’s attention. “Wait, Stragdoc? The Prelt know something about him?”
+Of him, Admiral, yes. We did not know he led the near humans, but we do know of him. Prophecy speaks of him.+ To everyone’s surprise, Lami’s eyes actually changed color to a deep blue.
“Prophecy? You called me down here for some kind of superstition? Do any of you know what’s going on in-system right now?” Chris looked ready to tear his hair out.
“Yeah, I do.” Jennifer nearly snarled. “But one of the Vandle used his name while cursing me. I spoke to Lami here, and you have no idea how terrified she is that there’s a being whose name figures into an old apocalyptic legend. So sit down, shut up, and listen!”
Chris stood stunned. This was the most out of control he’d seen the blonde woman. “All right. I guess I can spare a little time.” He sat.
+Thank you, Admiral. This is difficult for me as a being of science, but this legend is old, very old. Before the Prelt devoted themselves to science, we were a spiritual people, with deities and beliefs. One of those beliefs involves a place we called V’elj, a gate to the underworld. It was distantly visible in our world’s sky. Later, we discovered that V’elj was a gravitational anomaly. But in our primitive days, there was a legend of the V’elj, and a being known as Str’a-d’k, the Soulshrieker.+
+We trace the legend to a prophet named Thu-ta-d’k. He foretold that one day, the Prelt would encounter this Soulshrieker. First, he would kill one of us, and unleash a threat. Vague, I know. His followers would then begin a purge of our species, seeking revenge for some wrong he felt we had done. Finally, he would cast a great spear into the V’elj, and condemn the universe to eternal conflict. A war without end, that would drown innocents in blood.+
“They have a ship heading for his territory.” Jennifer elaborated. “She’s scared that he’ll slaughter every last one of them.”
Chris nodded. “Okay. He’s a threat, absolutely. Lami, you can use our systems to contact your ship, warn them off. After that, we’ll deal with the Vandle.”
“I�
��ll take her.” West volunteered, guiding the now trembling alien.
Chris and Jennifer were alone. “You know I can’t believe this is anything more than coincidence.” He sighed.
“It very well could be. It probably is.” Jennifer agreed. “But he still could destroy that ship. There aren’t that many Prelt left after the Vandle attacked them. I think that’s why they couldn’t execute Quordex initially; with the species on the verge of extinction, to kill another Prelt must be a horrifying concept to them.”
“I guess I can understand that. But you agree that Stragdoc can’t possibly be this ‘Soulshrieker’?”
Jennifer sat in silence a moment. “What I believe, Admiral, is that he is a threat to the galaxy. Paul craves power the way your body craves air. Power can be an intoxicating drug; and like any drug, eventually you need more just to get that initial high. Ruling a planet isn’t enough for him, he’ll expand, and he will crush anyone who opposes him under his foot. Does that make him the Soulshrieker? I honestly don’t know.”
---
The Hecatomb was on the third day of its shakedown voyage. Praxus remained on the bridge, while Callixta retired to her quarters. She was kneeling before the isolation chamber, in silent communion with her beloved.
Any progress, love?
A mental sigh. I believe I have loosened my bonds enough to move my big toe. During my rest periods, I have sensed much around us. You have taken a flagship?
Yes, darling, the Hecatomb.
An interesting choice of name. It may be auspicious, I sense turmoil, conflict, these Vandleifdulus have begun their crusade.
I have ordered the system borders secured, any incoming ship is to be turned away or face destruction.
Good. That’s good. A pause. Praxus approaches, see to him, dear Callixta.
Callixta nodded, standing and opening the door just as Praxus arrived. “Yes, Lord Truk?”
“Forgive the intrusion, highness, but a ship has arrived in system. It’s broadcasting for truce...in English.”
Interesting. Stragdoc’s mental touch remained with her as she and Praxus hurried to the bridge. Once there, the Hecatomb had arrived at the location of the message, where the two Alphites, the psychic essence of the Emperor, and the bridge crew stared at the vast flattened dome.
“It’s beautiful…” Callixta whispered. “The Vandleifdulus couldn’t have built something like this.”
I agree. This is something else. Answer their hail.
“Captain Vaathek, respond to their message.” Callixta perched herself on her command throne. When the other ship transmitted video, and she was confronted with the spherical head and hood that had haunted her vision, she cut the broadcast immediately. She heard Praxus draw in a shocked breath.
“Open fire!” Callixta screamed. “They’re the ones who hurt my beloved husband and your Emperor! Kill them!”
The Prelt Worldship did not have much in the way of defenses as the Hecatomb, Arkham, and Miskatonic unleashed their displacement cannons, slicing into the vast windows, exposing much of the ship to cold unfeeling vacuum. The bombardment continued until something vital was hit, and the ship exploded.
“T-they were broadcasting truce messages!” Praxus gasped.
“Do I look like I care?” Callixta glared at him. “Those creatures will lead the attack on Numenor, commanding the Vandleifdulus, I have seen it.”
The boy may have a point. Stragdoc’s mental voice whispered to her. Codex was but one of their race. Holding them all responsible may be a mistake. Of course, he was quick to add, the crew needed combat experience. If we encounter another of their vessels, we shall honor their offer of truce. No distress call was issued from this ship, so it would be easy to pretend that this never happened.
I understand, darling. Aloud, she said “Perhaps this was a mistake on our part, I am new to command. Nevertheless, one of their species dared to harm our Emperor, beloved by all. As such, we have exacted private vengeance for this slight. This battle shall be classified for the time being, and should we encounter more of them, we shall...humor their request for truce.” She glanced sidelong at Praxus. “Agreed, Lord Truk?”
He nodded, somewhat glumly. “Shall we attempt any salvage?”
Callixta thought briefly. “Yes. But order the carrier to deploy its combat shuttles, incinerate any bodies they discover. We need combat practice.”
In his isolation chamber, Stragdoc silently applauded his wife’s skill at manipulating the situation. All but Praxus felt justified at the destruction of the Prelt ship, but he was something of an idealist. And young. In time he would toughen and accept the hard truth that they were the superior race in the galaxy, destined to rule with an iron fist and the velvet glove. He was young. He would learn.
He found he was able to wiggle both his big toes now.
Progress.
Part IV - The Grand Alliance
When St. George and I spoke about the Prelt mythology regarding their Soulshrieker, I couldn’t help but compare it to our own myths of world-enders. Ragnarok. Nibiru. The Antichrist. How silly some of them were, like the 2012 Mayan apocalypse, or how we were all going to die because of a widespread computer bug. In hindsight, we can laugh. But only in hindsight.
As the John Alex travelled to Earth to prepare for the great summit the Prelt were arranging, I spoke of our own mythologies regarding the end of everything to Lami. She found many of them curious, but was intensely interested in the idea of the Antichrist, and the Revelation of St. John. I ended up loaning her my own copy of the Bible to read.
Yes, I own a Bible. And a Koran. Hell, I’m pretty sure there’s a dog-eared copy of Dianetics on my ship. Somewhere. I’m actually a spiritual person...to an extent. I believe that there is something beyond us, and that something awaits us after we die. I don’t know if I believe in angels, or even demons. I just know that the idea of just ceasing to exist entirely when I eventually die to be existentially terrifying.
When Lami returned my Bible, she spoke of one particular item in Revelation: the bottomless pit. She couldn’t help but compare it to the V’elj of their own mythology, but with the key difference that V’elj was visible to them. The Biblical bottomless pit was only ever visible to Charles Manson.
Lami was scared, she hadn’t been able to raise the emissary ship they’d sent to Numenor. She asked if I thought they were dead. I told her I didn’t know. She paused, then asked shyly if I thought that the God of the Bible let Prelt souls into heaven.
I hope so.
-Jennifer Safyo
22.
“What in the hell did you do?”
Chris glared at the image of Kelly being transmitted from Earth. He’d wanted answers as to the dissolution of the Council, so once the wounded were seen to, and the dead they’d been able to recover “buried” in the dense atmosphere of Jupiter (excepting those who had requested their remains returned home), he’d called Kelly for answers.
For a change, Young was the one who was calm. “After the Council rejected the idea of doing anything but maintain a defensive perimeter against the Vandle, I found that the people were as outraged as I. So I confronted Carter, then privately invoked Article Thirty-Seven of the Council’s charter while Zath contacted his people to move the conclave they’re proposing to Earth.”
Article Thirty-Seven had been added almost as an afterthought after the Battle of the Talon: that should the majority of Earth’s people’s decide that the Council acted irresponsibly, or not in the interest of the common citizenry, a Council member could, with the people’s backing, dissolve the body and be installed as an interim president until a fair election could be held. It had been meant as something that would never be used, that no crisis could ever be large enough to necessitate it, something to ensure that the Council behave responsibly for the civilians it protected.
Chris sighed. “Let me guess, you’ll hold a ‘fair election’ after we beat the Vandle?”
Kelly shrugged. “Actually, we’re t
aking steps right now to get the planet ready for an election. We figure that depending on how badly the planet gets hit, we should be ready to start accepting candidates in six months.”
Giving you time to cement the alliance and present yourself as the obvious choice. Clever dick. Aloud, Chris said simply, “All right. In the meantime, I’ll supervise the fleet, get it mobilized.”
“Fine, but I need you here when the delegates arrive. One of the races coming, the Gieron Zath calls them, respect military might.”
“How soon?”
