Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) (10 page)

"All right, into the designated orbit," Bird said. I let the ship do it.

"Orbit confirmed," the ship announced.

"Not bad," Bird said.

"Not bad?" I asked. "Come on, it was perfect."

"Ahh, well it was close to perfect."

"What would have made it perfect?"

"If you had been a hot little blonde in a nurse's uniform. That would have been perfect."

I laughed. "How is she? The hot little nurse. Are you still seeing her?"

"Oh, I see her when I have a chance."

"When you have a chance. She's on Veda. What is that, four hundred light years away?"

"Something like that."

"You know exactly how far it is. And it's a long way to go for a massage."

"Oh, I don't mind."

"You'll like married life. It's fun. And she can work in the medunit with Honeyhair and Blondie."

"I didn't say anything about marriage."

"You don't have to. You're hooked like a fish. I can tell by the glazed look in your eyes." Bird had met her in the Valhalla Hospital on Veda, where three of us – Bird, Saka and I - were recovering from serious wounds inflicted by the D's. It was the second time for Saka. They had killed him the first time – but the Brights brought him back from the dead.

"I suppose you have some advice. Just on the off chance I decide to get married, which is a crazy thing that I'll probably never do."

"Sure. Just do whatever she says. Then you'll be fine. Oh, and – one more thing. You'll have to re-name this ship. And get a new picture."

"She won't believe it's my mom?"

"Not unless you get a new picture."

The conversation tapered off as we cruised soundlessly in orbit around Quaba. What a stunning sight. We watched nightside approach, a clear divide between night and day far below, a vast black ocean under starry skies. Quaba's two suns faded into pools of blood behind the planet. We flew over the night, the polar areas glowing phosphorescent blue. Another dawn approaching, I thought. Thrilling. What a beautiful world. And Bird got to do this every day, floating over us all like a god, in the space where the lightning is made.

I earned my Fleetcom pilot's wings that day. I had been studying the Phantom and flying for weeks and I was proud of myself. The only reason this happened was that they originally needed somebody with a DX brain to fly the Demon spacecraft, and I had been selected. It's funny how life works. I had never imagined I would wind up flying spacecraft.

Δ

"I believe she's a female. Most likely a Bright, although we can't know for sure," Bees said. She was in private conference with the Professor in his office. "She seems to be located in some place called the Others, on a planet numbered 6612 or some variant of that. I have been unable to identify it. It doesn't seem to be a Demon world. It could be a Bright numbering system. Whether it's in Mid Haven or here, I don't know. She's calling for help. Lost in the Others, she says. Any thinking being, help. The Dead are coming, closer and closer. She doesn't want to die. She wants to have children – that was confirmation she was female, although I felt that before."

"Doctor D has studied the transmissions," the Prof said, "but at our current stage of research he has no answers for us. We need more data. If she described the planet or the Dead or the Others, any of that would help. But Bees, please listen to me and try to understand. When I was first studying science, as a midschooler, they gave us some high-powered microscopes and we each put a drop of water on a slide and focused in on it. It was incredible, what a teeming jungle of life could be seen, all these tiny creatures swimming around and feeding on even smaller creatures and on each other. I spotted this one transparent worm-like thing that had clearly run into trouble. He was tangled up in a giant clump of sticky slime. It was wrapped all around him and he was struggling frantically to get out, thrashing around desperately, trying to break free of the blob. I felt sorry for him. Incredible, I thought, to feel sorry for a microscopic creature like that. I watched him struggling, and failing to break free. I knew he was going to die if he didn't get out. But there was nothing I could do. I was too large to help, and he was far too small. There was nothing I could do. So I put the slide away and did something else. But I dreamed about him that night. Believe it or not. I tell you this because sometimes there is truly nothing you can do, and you have to accept it, and move on."

"Thank you, Professor. I'll keep that in mind. But I'm not quite ready to give up yet."

Δ

It was cool and calm and perfectly quiet inside the ship. Saka had the impression that all was well, that everything was perfectly under control. He had an excellent view from inside the ship. He seemed to be seated in the cockpit area and two of the ship's crew were seated to his left. The interior design of the ship was perfectly functional and the walls and ceiling and walkways were all white. The crew was Brights, he noted. Two young male Brights, skin faintly glowing as if phosphorescent, clad in white uniforms, gazing calmly at the instrumentation that glowed ice-blue, casting blue shadows. Pilot and copilot, Saka thought. Saka stared at them, fascinated. They looked exactly like humans and that was not surprising since the ancestors of these Brights had mixed their genes with humans in the distant past. They were as calm and cool and confident as biogens. They took the craft down, almost to treetop level, shooting along over a great gloomy swamp, under a grey rainy sky. The rain was hitting the simport and vaporizing. What a bleak view, Saka thought. These Brights are from a sunnier place than this.

The ship glided along, and the Brights were touching the guidance levers lightly, the ship sliding a little to one side in response. One Bright pointed to one of the instruments with a slim finger. A dark forest appeared on the horizon. They were looking for something, Saka knew.

And suddenly Saka was outside the ship, watching it powering its way through the sky. It was one of those Bright delta fighter starcraft that had done such a great job of downing Demon ships on Galinta. What a beautiful ship, as white as a cloud and as sleek and deadly as a cosmic shark. It left a wake of water vapor behind it. Up near the nose was the Bright insignia – a white hand with the lightning bolt weapon superimposed. They were evidently hunting something. What it was, Saka did not know.

And then Saka was in the swamp, splashing through the mud and reeds as fast as he could manage. He was in his A-suit, fully adrenalized, his heart pounding raggedly, faster, faster. They were almost on him! A Bright starcraft blasted past overhead in the blink of an eye and Saka dove for the mud. The swamp burst into flame, a titanic thunderclap and a gigantic plume of plasma ripped past Saka, settling over the swamp, a flaming tsunami. The swamp exploded, geysers of mud and charcoal reeds rising to the ugly sky along with countless glittering phospho tracers, lighting up creation.

"They got Saka!" somebody said.

"Move it, Saka – on us!" somebody else said. Saka leaped to his feet and charged through the flaming swamp, terrified.

"He's coming back! Take cover, Saka!" Cover, cover? There was no cover, there was only the swamp. Saka dove again into the mud and he saw the Bright craft coming back, straight as an arrow, headed right for him, personally, ripping past overhead, gone, then another titanic eruption and the world was a dreamy glowing flaming star, a star, touching down gently into his swamp, gentle deadly plasma, a soft rain, touching his armor with glowing drops to sizzle and pop, slowly slowly eating into his armor, seeking out the tender flesh inside.

Saka woke with a scream, flailing his arms wildly, shaking with adrenalin, covered with hot sweat. Lan Hwa was on him immediately, reassuring him, holding on tight, whispering in his ears, then bursting into tears.

"DX," he gasped. "DX dream." He collapsed against the pillow, then laughed. "Man! I thought I was dead!" That brought a howl of grief from Lan Hwa.

"Stop it, Lan Hwa. Stop crying. Everything is all right. And now I've had a DX dream – a good dream! The Prof will love this one!"

Δ

"This is worrying," the Prof said. "Very worrying." We were gathered in a conference room, all four of us prophets, the Prof, Doctor Dimension, and Paula the psycherchick. The techs had carefully examined all recoverable images from Saka's DX dream. It was certainly an important vision. But, again, we needed a lot more info to understand it properly.

"Bright fighter starcraft, strafing the Legion," the Prof said. "That is a terrifying scenario. Why would they do that?"

Nobody answered him.

"They've always been friendly to us," the Prof continued. "They helped us fight the Demons. And we raided Kratar, blew away that Demon saucer factory – their enemies. And they said they knew about it. And it seemed they were grateful. So why should they be strafing us?"

"Don't know," Saka said.

"If they turn against us, we're doomed. There's no possible way we can counter their technology. You've all seen it in action." The Prof's face revealed his deep concern. "When we report this to ConFree, they're going to go out of orbit."

"We must learn more," Doctor Dimension said.

"We can and we will," the Prof said. "But first we must try to put together what we have so far. Prophet sees a swamp of reeds and a Mocain starfighter zooming overhead at low altitude. And then there's a big blast and it appears the starcraft has just dropped some ordnance, perhaps aimed at Prophet. Switch to Saka. Saka sees a Bright starcraft – he's even in it! Then he's down in a swamp of reeds, running, and the Bright ship strafes him – twice! And it seems his comrades are there – presumably that's Delta – because they're calling out to him. And the reeds – that's about all we can focus on for sure. They appear to be the same type of reeds that Prophet saw. So, we have Prophet and Saka in the swamp, and Mocain and Bright starcraft overhead, and the Mocains strafing Prophet, and the Brights firing on Saka. This is horrifying. Does it mean the Brights and Mocains have allied against ConFree? We've got to find out."

"Any word yet on the reed species?" Ice asked.

"Not yet," the Prof replied. "But we’re still researching. It's amazing that nobody seems to think that reeds are important. This may be the key to the puzzle. It may actually give us a location. Or at least narrow it down."

"I predict we'll see more DX dreams," Paula said. "Things are getting increasingly tense. The stakes are high, for everyone. I'd like everyone to go to sleep at night thinking about this, and what it means. Worry about it. I believe that will stimulate more dreams."

"Yes," the Prof said. "We need more input. We certainly do. I encourage everyone to do whatever works to get your DX working. And I'm optimistic. You can do it."

"Man, this looks like a wake. Who died?" Dragon asked, entering the private office of the Director General of ConFree. Dragon was the Director of the ConFree Legion, a hard, aggressive, seemingly young trooper clad in Legion black, tall and wiry, dark hair, deep-set eyes, a determined chin, blue tattooed beetles crawling up his neck, deaths heads looking out from his knuckles.

He was addressing the Director of ConFree and the Director of Galactic Information. Antara Tarantos-Hanna, the Director of ConFree, was a stunningly beautiful slender girl with pale brown flesh, sultry Assidic eyes, and silky ruddy hair that touched her shoulders lightly. Although she looked like a fashion model, she wore the combat cross and the blood badge on her blacks, and had a reputation as the dynamic, ruthless, fearless and brilliant leader of the most successful galactic confederation in history.

By her side stood Snow Leopard, the Director of Galactic Information, an intense yet somewhat intimidating pale-faced warrior, with white-blond hair and pink eyes that glowed like red-hot coals. Dragon and Snow Leopard also wore the combat cross and blood badge on their blacks.

"Nobody has died yet – and I'd like to keep it that way," Tara said. "That's why we're meeting."

"Come on, gimme a smile," Dragon said. Tara embraced him, but did not smile. When she broke away, Dragon and Snow Leopard struck fists, then all three found seats by the massive picture window with the spectacular view of Quaba City. It was a very large office but there were only the three of them in the room.

"Nice view," Dragon said. Only one of Quaba's two suns was barely visible, peeking through heavy clouds.

"Show him," Tara said. Snow Leopard gestured to a large wall screen, which lit up immediately. It showed a glowing holo image of a delta-shaped starcraft.

"Starcraft ID 101," Snow Leopard said. "Dragon?"

"Damn it to hell," Dragon said, glaring at the holo.

"Can’t ID it?" Snow Leopard asked, with an easy grin.

"It’s a Bright delta fighter," Dragon said, "and I wish it wasn't. I hope you're going to tell me this image was taken during the recent festivities with the D's."

"I'm afraid not," Snow Leopard said, as the holo image slowly revolved to expose all sides. "This image, and several others we have, was taken a few weeks ago, in the Inners – in UMC vac."

"What's the source?"

"We try to monitor significant developments in the UMC. Source is in the Mocain stellar defense forces. The UMC leadership is in a panic over this. They don't know what it means. Three sightings so far, single ships, scattered around the Luyten sector, but far beyond normal patrol range. The UMC fleet is scrambling to detect and monitor these alien ships. When approached, the ships shoot up to impossible speeds, then disappear from the vac."

"Into DX, right?"

"Right. Can’t follow them there."

"God damn it to hell," Dragon said, quietly.

"So the question is: what are they doing in our galaxy?" Tara said.

"Hell – what are they doing in our
universe
?" Dragon asked. "The last time they made an appearance it was to strike at the Demons. But the Demons are gone – right?"

"That's right," Snow Leopard said.

"This is how it starts," Tara said. "Recon."