Of Fire and Night (51 page)

130

ADAR ZAN’NH

T
he flagship of the Solar Navy hung useless in space. A nearby explosion had severely damaged their engines. The Adar’s sensor-station operator doggedly repaired damaged control panels, pulling out fused circuit blocks, extracting spares from secondary systems that were no longer necessary. At last he got the tactical screens operating again so that Zan’nh could observe the scope of the continuing battle, even if his flagship could not participate.

They could do nothing but watch as the awesome tree battleships struck the warglobes. Zan’nh had never seen anything like them, could not imagine what could create such monstrous living vessels. So many forces had gathered to fight the hydrogues, but even the tremendous treeships could not block the hundreds of remaining warglobes. The hydrogues had sent an inexplicably large force against the EDF . . . or had the deep-core aliens intended to destroy the Solar Navy at the same time? The more he thought about it, the more he decided it must be true.

Through the
thism,
with his close connection to the Mage-Imperator, Zan’nh could already feel cold ripples, waves of deaths. Countless people were dying on Ildira—he felt the slaughter go through him like a spine-grating note. After the Solar Navy’s turnabout here, the hydrogues must be brutally retaliating. They would have known of the betrayal instantly. He sensed that the Mage-Imperator still lived, but the Adar suspected the Prism Palace was under attack. Had the sixty watchdog spheres above Mijistra simply opened fire in retaliation, in
punishment
?

And he was trapped here, unable to move, unable to fight. The flagship’s deck was tilted. Zan’nh swept his gaze across the faces of his downcast crew, then pounded his fist hard against the command railing. He felt helpless. He had already done his part . . . and it hadn’t been enough.

His tactical adviser said, “We did everything we could, Adar. We eliminated fourteen times as many warglobes as Adar Kori’nh did at Qronha 3. Never have Ildirans destroyed so many of the enemy.”

Zan’nh felt no triumph. Lights flickered inside the ship, and sparks continued to fly from the control panels. “But it wasn’t enough. We did not bring enough ships.” That single mistake would doom the Ildiran Empire.

“If we had brought more ships, then not enough would have remained to protect Ildira,” the tactician said.

Zan’nh raised his hand. “
This
is for the protection of Ildira! We were commanded to deal a mortal blow to the hydrogues. If we do not defeat them here, they will destroy all of our worlds, one by one.” He lowered his voice. “Already warglobes may be leveling Mijistra! Can you not feel all those deaths?”

Robot-seized EDF vessels continued to hammer their human-crewed counterparts. Verdani treeships destroyed diamond spheres one at a time, but still the hydrogues pushed closer to Earth.

“Adar!” The sensor operator looked up as if he couldn’t believe his readings. “More ships arriving—hundreds more!”

Zan’nh’s heart sank. Did the Klikiss robots and their Soldier compies have further reinforcements? Or was it more hydrogue warglobes? “Do our comm systems work?”

In answer, an image resolved itself on the ship-to-ship screen to show the anxious face of an older Ildiran officer. “Adar, this is Tal Lorie’nh. Please acknowledge if you’re still out there. We detect no functioning warliners.”

Zan’nh leaned closer to the screen. “Yes, Tal Lorie’nh! We are here.”

The older Solar Navy officer responded with a thin smile. “The Mage-Imperator thought you might require some assistance.”

“He has brought a full cohort!” cried the sensor operator.

Hundreds more warliners. Zan’nh held on to the command rail to keep his balance. “We had thought the battle was lost.”

“Not yet, Adar. We have a final strategy.” Lorie’nh gave an order to his seven quls, each of whom directed seven septas.

Lorie’nh had once been Zan’nh’s commanding officer, but the older man had no aspirations to increase his rank; in fact, Lorie’nh had been surprised to achieve the level of tal in the first place, a promotion that he credited to good personnel serving him, including young Zan’nh.

With a sinking in his heart, the Adar realized that this cohort, dispatched at the last moment, had never been part of the plan. These were not empty, automated ships like the other sacrificial vessels, but the Mage-Imperator had sent them here anyway. When planning this appalling gambit, Zan’nh had been aware of the potential cost, but had salved his conscience by relying on the new remote-controlled systems Sullivan Gold and his engineering team installed. He hadn’t expected to ask hundreds of thousands of crewmen to sacrifice themselves. So many torn threads of
thism
!

On the screen, he met Lorie’nh’s bright gaze. “Tal, are you and your subcommanders prepared for this? Do you at least have minimal crews aboard?”

Lorie’nh answered with a wry smile. “These warliners carry the full crews for which they were designed.” The group of ornate ships accelerated as they entered the fringes of the space battlefield.

Zan’nh’s heart ached. Had Adar Kori’nh felt the same resolve as he drove his maniple down into Qronha 3?

Lorie’nh said, “Do not count our deaths, Adar. If we were to fail now, then our entire race would die.”

Zan’nh knew it was true. “Safe journey to the Lightsource.”

Lorie’nh gave a brisk nod. “May we all meet there someday.”

Three hundred forty-three warliners streaked past, diving like a meteor storm toward the remaining warglobes. With glistening eyes Zan’nh watched the spectacular ships flow by. He had never seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

131

QUEEN ESTARRA

U
nder OX’s piloting, the hydrogue derelict rose smoothly against gravity. Earth’s skies were empty and dark, all tourist zeppelins and commercial transportation craft grounded in the emergency. Only a few glimmering lights marked the location of the Whisper Palace, which she and Peter were now leaving behind forever.

Estarra held on to Peter, both drawing and giving reassurance. “I never thought we’d get this far.”

As Earth receded, bright and blue and unprotected, Estarra knew that Peter’s heart was torn for abandoning his people, for leaving during this crisis. It made him seem a coward, running away in humanity’s time of greatest need. But Basil would kill them, especially now, if they didn’t go. The King would accomplish nothing if he stayed. Estarra knew, though, that even if they lost the battle here, human civilization was not destroyed.

“Peter, the human race is more than just Earth. We’ve spread far beyond our original boundaries. Chairman Wenceslas forgot that. He cut ties with Theroc, with the Roamers, with all the other Hansa colonies.” She looked at him with her large brown eyes. “From Theroc the two of us can rule as true King and Queen, to help
all humans
recover from this. No matter what happens on Earth, win or lose, the Chairman would never have allowed you to be the leader humanity needs. This is our only chance.”

He nodded, knowing she was right. “OX, get us away as fast as you can.”

The Teacher compy flew in silence. OX’s memories might be gone, but he had uploaded enough information to become an expert in this alien craft. In a clipped and emotionless voice, he reported, “I detect multiple obstacles distributed across all valid paths ahead. I will attempt to avoid them.”

Estarra could see through the transparent walls to the raging battle. The “multiple obstacles” were remnants of hundreds, even thousands, of ruined vessels—Ildiran warliners, hydrogue warglobes, EDF battleships. Their tiny derelict was a mere grain of sand among all the spaceships crashing into each other and firing weapons.

The attacks had spread out to encompass a huge volume of space in the neighborhood of Earth. The battle was everywhere, and Estarra saw no way around it. OX chose the best course and accelerated straight into the frenzy of engagement. Another group of Ildiran warliners had just arrived, hundreds more ornate battleships.

“Is there anything we can do if ships start firing at us?” she asked. “We are in a hydrogue globe, after all.”

“The engineering crew left basic communication devices and controls aboard the derelict. I can attempt to send a message over standard military frequencies. That will inform them we are not enemies.” OX worked the controls, sent out a signal.

“If they believe us,” Estarra said. “And if they notice us at all.”

“I hate to tell everyone we’re aboard. I’d just as soon keep Basil in the dark for as long as possible.” Peter leaned over, folding his hands together. “But there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

“I have removed your identification from the transmission,” the compy said. “I suspect few people aboard the EDF vessels noticed. They are quite busy now. General Lanyan has just attempted to transmit a ‘guillotine protocol’ to shut down the robot-controlled ships, but it seems the Soldier compies have rerouted their systems. General Lanyan sounds quite angry that his plan is not effective.”

The tiny derelict dodged, swooped, and dipped, making abrupt course corrections that should have thrown Peter and Estarra against the walls, but the deep-core aliens had an efficient momentum-dissipation system.

Some of the beleaguered Earth Defense Forces ships took potshots at the tiny sphere—which meant they probably hadn’t been listening at all. A glancing jazer bolt sent them spinning, but OX quickly reasserted control.

Then Estarra saw something more incredible than anything else in the space battlefield. “Look, Peter! They’re . . . they’re
trees
. Huge trees from the worldforest—just like Nahton told us!”

Verdani battleships engaged the hydrogues, wrapping spiny branches around the warglobes to crush them. Estarra pressed her hands against the curved wall, peering into the chaos of space. Everything seemed to be happening at once. Twenty of the enormous trees came toward the main struggle, and the derelict raced onward, but not fast enough.

One of the huge alien trees shifted its course and came at them. Peter cried out, “OX, change course. We don’t want to get caught by that thing.”

“I will attempt to avoid it, King Peter.” The compy focused on the jumbled crystalline controls, and their tiny sphere moved in an erratic pattern, but the thorny treeship came closer, its branches sweeping wide like the jaws of a trap.

“I don’t think it’s our enemy,” Estarra said. “It’s from Theroc.”

“Maybe not, but we’re sitting in a hydrogue ship, and those trees are destroying warglobes one after another.” Peter’s blue eyes were wide.

“Shall I identify Queen Estarra in my transmission?” OX asked.

She jumped at the chance. “Yes, OX! Say . . . I’m a daughter of Theroc, but don’t give my name.”

Moving with amazing speed, the organic vessel caught them in its mighty grasp and drew the derelict into a nest of thorns and fronds. The branches were huge. Estarra could see the overlapping golden bark scales now turned into impenetrable space armor. The javelin thorns scraped against the smooth curve of the derelict. The limbs pulled them closer, wrapping tighter.

OX did not sound concerned, though his hands flurried over the controls. “I apologize, King Peter. It is beyond my capabilities to evade the treeship.”

Huddled against the derelict’s wall, Estarra pressed her hands flat against the crystalline hull. The ominous growth looked similar to and yet different from the worldtrees she had climbed when she was younger. Those trees had been so peaceful, curious, wanting only to acquire knowledge. But these verdani battleships seemed intent on destruction. Or was it protection?

Crackling words came from the portable comm system aboard the derelict. She leaned forward, surprised to hear a sound like singing, a warm voice she remembered from childhood. “Estarra . . . sister.”

“Beneto!” She looked at Peter, then scrambled to the comm system. “It’s Beneto. He’s inside that treeship.”

“I
am
the treeship.”

Beneto had died on Corvus Landing. Yet Sarein and Nahton had told her of Beneto’s reincarnation as an avatar of the worldforest, complete with her brother’s thoughts and memories.

“Beneto, don’t harm us,” she said.

“You are in a hydrogue ship?” His voice no longer sounded exactly human.

“We’re escaping from the Hansa, from Earth. The Chairman is trying to kill us, so we’re going to Theroc.” She fiddled with the transmitter’s controls to hear him better. “I wish I could tell you everything, Beneto! I wanted to see you again.”

“Can he help us?” Peter asked.

“We need to get home, Beneto. Come with us,” she urged.

“I cannot. The battle is here. The final battle. I belong to the seedship now. We are one.” The enfolding branches now held the derelict in an embrace rather than a threatening grip. “We destroy the hydrogues today, but first I will see that you stay safe, little sister.”

The treeship began to move away from the furious combat zone. Blasts of enemy weaponry struck and splintered the outer fronds, but Beneto’s huge tree body did not flinch as he protected them. Once the verdani battleship had carried them beyond the last attacking warglobes, the thorny branches spread out and tossed the derelict into empty space, like a farmer casting seeds.

“I’ll miss you, Beneto,” Estarra called after him.

“I will always hold my memories of you, and of Theroc. They will remain with me for thousands of years as I journey across the cosmos.”

At his controls, OX piloted their craft again, resetting course for Theroc. “I have already begun to make new memories,” the compy said. Peter smiled.

Estarra stared back through the transparent hull as they hurtled away. The enormous organic vessel dwindled in the distance. In her last glimpse of the verdani battleship that was her brother, the many-branched weapon crashed again into the hydrogues.

132

DENN PERONI

W
hen Denn Peroni flew a group of Roamer ships into the Earth system, he did so with genuine misgivings. He had never expected to return here, certainly not after the last time when he’d been arrested and held on trumped-up charges. Thankfully, King Peter had freed him before he could be used as a scapegoat.

I repay my debts,
Denn thought.

Kotto Okiah guided the foremost of the eleven spidery cargo escorts next to Denn’s
Dogged Persistence
. The craft were nothing more than frameworks for hauling tanks of concentrated stardrive fuel, useless for bearing wental water to gas-giant targets. However, the thin tubular legs could easily fold around the stacks of flat packages like decks of giant playing cards.

Ever since the eccentric engineer had brought his blueprints to Yreka, dozens of Roamer and former Hansa manufacturing facilities had produced hundreds of thousands of the simple, flexible mats. Though the Roamers were stung by Eddy depredations, and the Hansa colonies were just as angry for being abandoned by their own government, when they had learned of the drogues’ planned attack on Earth, they decided to do something about it.

“This is your baby, Kotto. Would you like to be out front and center?”

“Oh, I don’t really need to have any special credit. The doorbells will be doing all the work.”

Denn chuckled. “I’m not expecting the Big Goose to hand us any trophies, no matter what we do here.”

The Roamer ships saw the fireworks of a furious battle long before they came close to Earth. Denn tried to drink it all in. Green priests dispersed around the orphaned Hansa colonies had forewarned them about the huge verdani battleships, but none of the Roamers was prepared for the sight of those twenty awesome trees grappling with one warglobe after another.

He saw EDF battleships clashing with each other, Juggernauts firing upon Juggernauts. Was it some sort of civil war? Then he remembered that Soldier compies had hijacked much of the fleet. Maybe the robots had come back for revenge. The Eddies certainly seemed to piss everybody off. . . .

Of course, there was no mistaking a gaudy Ildiran warliner. Denn had been to Ildira more than once to reopen trade with the Mage-Imperator, and his
Dogged Persistence
had been escorted by such warliners. Hundreds of the extravagant Solar Navy ships had already smashed themselves into warglobes, but the hydrogue forces still looked overwhelming. As the remaining deep-core aliens reeled, recovered, then renewed their attack, Denn spotted hundreds more Ildiran warliners charging in. They moved in perfect formation and accelerated, obviously preparing for another concerted suicide run. Hundreds of vessels, each one of which must contain at least a thousand Ildirans. All of them ready to sacrifice themselves.

If the doorbells worked as the engineer promised, all those deaths were so unnecessary.

“Kotto, we’ve got to do something about this.”

“Our cargo escorts are flying as fast as they can. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Doesn’t look like we have ten minutes. Those warliners are already starting their acceleration runs.” Without waiting for further discussion, he sent a broad-range burst. “Calling the Solar Navy! This is Denn Peroni from the Roamers. Remember me? I’ve been a guest of your Mage-Imperator several times. Is anybody out there?” The cohort of warliners continued to plunge toward the hydrogues. Obviously, they weren’t interested in conversation. He raised his voice, feeling greater urgency. “Please listen! We have brought a new weapon to deploy against the hydrogues. There’s no need for you to sacrifice your lives.”

Kotto added his voice. “Let us show you what we’ve got up our sleeves. By the Guiding Star, it’s much more efficient than smashing so many warliners.”

“And it’ll save thousands of lives,” Denn added. “Just give us a few minutes.”

A deep voice answered. “This is Adar Zan’nh. Tal Lorie’nh, you have my permission to suspend your attack run. I know about these Roamer traders—let us see what they intend to do.” His voice held a note of relief.

“Acknowledged, Adar,” said Lorie’nh. The accelerating warliners broke off their run, changing course and arcing away from the clustered hydrogue spheres. “I am happy to give the humans the first chance to defend their own world.”

“It’s not exactly my world anymore,” Denn muttered. “But we’ll help them out anyway.”

A rough voice he recognized as General Kurt Lanyan’s elbowed its way through the comm system. “Roamers! What the bloody hell are you doing here? If you get in the way, I’ll shoot you down myself.”

“Why, General, we’ve just come to demonstrate a bit of Roamer ingenuity, not to mention generosity.”

Denn’s
Dogged Persistence
and the eleven cargo escorts dumped their packages. Each craft carried thousands of tightly stacked resonance membranes, which spread apart as soon as they were released, separated by quick electrostatic charges. Kotto’s doorbells created a blizzard in empty space, flakes drifting onto the enemy craft.

Most of them missed, but enough clung in place. Once fastened, the doorbells began to thrum through a frequency cycle until they stumbled upon the correct resonance tone—with dramatic results. The warglobes’ enormous hatches split open. Windows and access ports burst to vent the superdense atmosphere into space.

At first, Kotto and Denn cheered in triumph, then yelled in panic as they scrambled to avoid the out-of-control drogue ships. Roamer vessels tried to get out of the shooting gallery. Ricocheting warglobes collided with each other and barely missed the cargo escorts. Spherical battleships crashed into each other, haring off in random directions, completely out of control. The diamond globes had no defense against this kind of attack.

It was a massacre.

The hundreds of Solar Navy warliners that had been pulled from suicide runs circled about. Denn imagined the Ildirans must be pleased, or at the very least relieved.

Even with the warglobes destroyed, however, the battle wasn’t over. The EDF Juggernauts and Mantas were still firing on their robot-controlled counterparts. On a whim, Denn transmitted to the Ildirans. “Adar, if you have any spare ships, I think General Lanyan could use some assistance.”

Tal Lorie’nh’s cohort, still spoiling for a fight, happily joined the fray. Ildiran ships tracked down the hijacked craft and opened fire. Eavesdropping on EDF channels, Denn heard loud cheering among the human soldiers.

General Lanyan sent a loud call across the comm line, sounding stunned. “Roamers, identify yourselves. Who are you?”

Denn couldn’t resist. “We’re the people who just saved your butts. Don’t ever forget that. We’re
Roamers,
and proud of it.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this for the EDF,” the General said.

Denn heard several of the clan pilots laughing out loud on the channel. “We didn’t do it for you, General. In fact, we did it in spite of the EDF. We did this for King Peter.” He smiled. That would certainly put egg on the Chairman’s face! He leaned back in his pilot’s chair. “We’ll be taking our leave now. No sense overstaying our welcome.”

Lanyan sounded embarrassed. “Wait around for the mop-up operations. Get yourself a pat on the back from the Hansa.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, General,” Denn said. “Roamers just don’t seem to be safe in your clutches.” On a private channel, he called Kotto and the pilots of the other cargo escorts. “We’ll just let them chew on that for a while.”

Without a further word to the Hansa or the EDF, the Roamers departed from the Earth system.