Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) (14 page)

Read Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) Online

Authors: Marshall S Thomas

Tags: #Fiction : Science Fiction - Military Fiction : Science Fiction - Adventure Fiction : Science Fiction - General

BOOK: Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree)
4.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A third male entered the cockpit, a large Outworlder, almost colliding with the invisible Bees as he rushed through the door. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's Mobile Three. They say they're being ambushed!"

"Ambushed! What? By who? Gimme that mike." He seized it. "Mobile Three, Base. Answer! Quit screwin' around. What the hell is it?"

"That's three out of five," Doggie said calmly in our ears. Prep to…"

"Hey, what's that?" Tattoo was still holding his dox cup in one hand. He was gaping at our position, down at the floor where our muddy, wet boots had tracked water all over the deck.

"Fire," Doggie said simply. It was done in one buzzing blast, the darts shredding all three pirates, slicing them wide open, spraying the cockpit with blood as their bodies crashed violently to the deck.

"Two more," Doggie said. "Kill one, vac the bitch." We met another male in the corridor. He knew something was wrong. He came at us with his SG raised for firing but of course he could see nothing. We blasted him with hyperdarts and shredded him wide open, leaving the corridor walls splattered with blood. That raspy buzzing noise was quite audible inside the confines of a starship, and it was one scary sound so it's no wonder our remaining target was on high alert. She was in that room with the Bright captives. As we approached the door it exploded with xmax and the riddled door shot across the corridor and fell to the deck. Lucky we had not yet reached it. Smiley shot a stunstar into the room with his manlink. It burst with a giant boom and a shock wave rattled the ship. I entered with my E set to vac but I saw the target was down and out, her limbs askew.

"Bees, check the bitch and the Brights," I said.

Δ

"Scout, it's Prof. Sitrep please." The Prof and Bees and I were in the room with the Bright captives. Doggie and Smiley and Blackie were standing guard just outside the main entrance, invisible sentries, one hundred percent alert. We had all just seen what happens to sentries who were not one hundred percent alert.

"Prof, Scout. Four pirates terminated, two Bright captives liberated. Nobody hurt. Sorry we couldn't get a prisoner. Bird is picking us up at this very moment – we'll see you soon."

"Good work, Scout. Soon as you get back here, we've got to go after that other group – they’ll be alerted and expecting trouble."

"Can do, Prof. See you soon!"

"Bees, Prophet, any progress?" the Prof asked. We were all uncloaked by then, visors up. Once the three Brights had recovered from the stunstar, they seemed quite impressed with Bees, with her silvery Bright armor and her exotic ethnicity. They had never seen anything like her before. They gratefully guzzled the icy water from the canteens that Bees offered them, and eagerly pulled on the civilian clothing that I had looted from a closet.

"Yes," Bees replied. "It's kind of a long story and I'm not sure I've got it all accurately, but I've got the general idea. Their thoughts are clear, and no longer guarded. They recognize us as friendly but don't know why."

"Who are you maniacs?" the Mocain female shrieked. She was on the floor, wrists tied behind her back. With a shaved head, no eyebrows, and skin so pale it looked slightly green, she was the perfect, hated Greenie of legend. I picked up the shockrod and blasted her in the face. She screamed and lay there twitching.

"Shut down or I'll kill you," I said.

"Summarize, please, Bees. Quickly," the Prof said. "We may not have much time." The three female Brights were holding their canteens tightly, staring at us in fascination. They were each just lovely, delicate facial features, slender bodies, slightly luminous skin.

"They were on some kind of a scientific mission – investigating an unknown and uninhabited world, here in U1, our universe. I believe that's what they mean. Once here, they were cut off from Haven, their own universe."

"You mean Mid Haven," the Prof said.

"No. No, I checked on that. They call it Haven. But with thoughts it's easy to get confused. We've been saying it wrong."

"The D's called it Mid Haven."

"Yes. That's the D's. The Brights call it Haven. Or, more accurately, Heaven."

"Heaven," the Prof said.

"Yes, that's where they're from. I told you they are angels. It's the Demons who live in the portion of Heaven they call Mid Haven. Mid Heaven, that is."

The Prof didn’t say a word. He did not appear to be surprised by this news.

"Share them with us," the Mocain bitch said. "We can sell these creatures for billions! Whoever you are, join us. Monk has contacts who will pay us billions. They're ready to deal. Right now! We can name our price! We've got everything, we can share with you, there's no sense fighting. Who are you guys? Legion deserters, or what?"

"Can I kill her now?" I asked the Prof. The Mocain shut down quickly.

"Bees, how did they get here? Where is their ship?" the Prof asked quietly.

"Oh – I haven’t asked yet. They told me so much, there's

more–"

"Find out about the ship, please. Now. Meantime I'm going to chat with this young lady." He moved over to join me, squatting before the Mocain, who was on the floor with legs outstretched.

I drew my cold knife. "Prof, I'd like to cut off her nipples for souvenirs. Is that all right?"

"Now now, Prophet, there's no need for violence. I'm sure this young lady is going to be cooperative. Aren't you, my dear? What is your name?"

"Mary Santos," she replied. I hauled the portable brainscan out of my beltpouch and affixed it roughly to her head. The device attached its suckers and lit up in green.

"Tell us your name again," I said.

"Um, Willimina Octavio. Gang name Octopus."

"What's the name of the gang?" the Prof asked.

"We're the Nightstalkers."

"Chatty, isn't she?" I asked, letting the shockrod's laser spot roam around on her face.

"Miss Octopus, we need accurate, detailed answers to all our questions. You must be one hundred percent cooperative. Can you do that?"

"Yes. Yes of course."

"The scan indicates deception." I said. "Maybe the shockrod will help."

"Are you thirsty, dear?" the Prof asked.

"Yes. I am."

"Prophet, please give her some water." I opened my canteen and handed it to her.

"I hope you choke on it," I said, as she drank deeply. I'm not really as creepy as I seem to be when interrogating captives. The Prof and I are an experienced interrogation team, and I learned the ropes debriefing pirates and Demons. We did the good guy-bad guy routine a lot, and I was always the bad guy.

'Tell me briefly–" the Prof said, "and accurately – how and why the Nightstalkers came to this planet, and how you ran into these aliens."

"We were running from the UMC. Some of the brothers had stopped paying their taxes. That was a very stupid move. So the UMC was raiding our bases. We needed a new place to hide. Bliss was ideal. It was totally uninhabited and so far off the edge that nobody was ever likely to bother us here. So we thought. About two months after we got here, this alien ship shows up. And they start wandering around all over the place, like they're on vacation or something. They're completely unaware of our presence. We lay low and watch them, count them, get a grip on their movements. And then we wrap them up – two days ago. But we missed some of them so we've been tracking them down. And then you folks kick in the door. You're not with the UMC, are you? What is that insignia? Look, we should join forces. We have the contact! Billions! There's plenty for all of us!"

"Hey bitch, we ask the questions, not you," I said. "Do you have enough yet, Prof? I'd like to slit her throat and watch her bleed."

"There was no fighting with the aliens?" the Prof asked.

"No, they were all strangely passive. They seemed surprised to see us."

"Weren't they armed?"

"Not at all. Or at least they didn’t carry anything."

The brainscan lit up red: DECEPTION BY OMISSION.

"Tell us about the weapons," the Prof said.

"Well, yeah, the weapons were in the ship. They had a lot of stuff in the ship."

"Tell me about the ship."

"There were no defenses. We seized it. And hid it real good. See, that's why you should join us. Billions – maybe trillions, in credits."

"Were all these aliens females? Weren't there any males?"

"Yes, there were. We normally kill the males and retain the females. Unless there's a good reason not to kill the males. We killed about five, six males before Monk told us he wanted no more killing."

"This Monk – he sounds like a real humanitarian," I said.

"Ha! Well, not quite. If there's extra money to be made by not killing somebody he'll reluctantly go along with it. He really enjoys killing people."

"Prof! We're back." It was Scout, standing in the doorway with his E. "We've got two female Brights. Where do you want 'em?"

"Bring them in here, now. Bees, Prophet, communicate with them all. Give the new ones some canteens. The message is we are friendlies. Tell them the criminals who imprisoned and mistreated them do not represent the human race. They are our enemies, they are outcasts. Tell the Brights they are safe now, and we will protect them at all costs. We will die for them if necessary. Make that clear, and do it quickly. We are running out of time."

The two new Brights entered the room, accompanied by Ice and Saka, and were greeted with joy by their three comrades. Although there was no speaking, I was aware of their thoughts – wild butterflies, shooting around the room,
joy joy joy love love love, warm hearts for you, tears of love love love.
They embraced each other warmly.

Bees took charge. She stood there in her silvery Bright armor, that scary Bright symbol on her breastplate, as the two newcomers stared at her with awe. To me, she looked like some kind of galactic superhero.
We are friends
, she telepathed.
Close friends, to you, close friends to your people. You are safe safe safe. We are ConFree ConFree. We guard you, we protect you from the evil, from the thoughtless dead. We will return you to your people, to Heaven. You are safe with us. The thoughtless dead are not our people, they are evil. Where is the one named Good Soul?
It was amazing how clearly I could hear Bees' thoughts.

We do not know
, they responded.
Good Soul ran, when the dead appeared
.

Why did you not fight them?
Bees asked.

We are scientists, not soldiers. We came here to learn, not to fight.

"Bird, Prof." Prof was on the tacnet.

"Prof, Bird."

"Get over to that group of rats who are headed this way. Take them all out from the air. The eyemotes show they don't have any captives. Erase them quickly and then hurry back here. I want to evac all these Brights to the Vampire soon as poss. Doggie, do you approve?"

"Sounds good to me," Doggie replied.

"I'm on it," Bird said. "Lifting off."

Ice sat astride the Mocain bitch, slammed the Mocain's shoulders down to the deck, and then spat in her face. She held a cold knife to the bitch's throat. "Are you finished with this one yet, Professor?" Ice asked eagerly.

"Not yet, Ice. Please get off her."

"What a shame," Ice said. "We'll see you later, bitch. You can count on it." Ice got to her feet. The Mocain did not dare to move.

"Where is this Monk?" the Prof asked.

"Oh, can I ask? Please?" Ice asked.

"Oh, all right. Don't hurt her."

Ice leaped onto the Mocain again, straddling her waist, placed one hand over the Mocain's face, then slammed the back of her head to the deck. Then she placed the cold knife to her throat again, and moved her own face so close to the Mocain they could have been kissing. I caught a quick glimpse of Ice's cold grey eyes. They were burning with hatred. Ice spoke in a whisper. "Where is Monk?"

"Ah, ah, on his way back, in the Hellcat. It's our second ship. He may have the buyer with him – or a representative."

"How would you like to die? Knife? Plasma? Maybe we'll skin you alive. I'm going to make a purse out of your breasts."

"I've already claimed her nipples," I interrupted, as if annoyed.

"Thank you, Ice," the Prof said. "That was very useful. You know, I think you might make a better bad guy than Prophet."

"That's because I really mean it, and he's only acting," Ice said, as she stepped away from the Mocain.

The Prof knelt by the Mocain, and dropped a silky tacmap print to the deck. "Show me where the Bright ship is hidden," he ordered.

Δ

"Prof, Bird." The Prof was seated at a navtable in the cockpit, looking over the tacmap.

"Bird, Prof, go."

"We've got a problem," Bird said. "I was about ready to hit those rats when the eyemotes noted these guys have a captive. He was dressed in camfax fatigues like the rest of the guys, with a hoodie. But there's a wire leash leading to one of the pirates. He's not armed. Looks like a male Bright, but whoever he is he's not one of them. They're hustling. They must have heard what happened to the other group. Have they been calling the base?"

"That's a twelve," the Prof said. "There's not been a peep. Either they're on comdown or they don’t want to announce they're coming, just in case something's wrong. And something is wrong. All right, Bird, call off the strike. Get back here quick. We'll need to do another ambush and recover that Bright. Our strike team will be ready for pickup the instant you arrive here."

"On my way."

"Delta, Vampire." Now what, I wondered. Why would the
Vampire
be calling us?

"Vampire, Delta, go," the Prof said.

"Delta, we've got a target approaching Bliss. We ID it as the PS Foxy Lady, which was starjacked 382/09/32 from the PPDD."

"Thank you, Vampire. Please observe covertly, let it land, and stand by for further instructions."

"Will do, Delta."

"Prophet, please bring that Mocain woman in here."

"Yes sir." I pulled her in by her blouse and stood her before the Prof. Her arms were still secured behind her back. She looked a bit uneasy. Understandable, considering the situation.

"The Foxy Lady," the Prof said. "Speak." He wasn't even looking at her.

Other books

Raven Mask by Winter Pennington
Annie Burrows by Reforming the Viscount
Old Lady by Evelyn Glass
Deliverance by Katie Clark
Docherty by William McIlvanney
The Flemish House by Georges Simenon, Georges Simenon; Translated by Shaun Whiteside
Hungry For Revenge by Ron Shillingford
30 - King's Gold by Michael Jecks
Weathered Too Young by McClure, Marcia Lynn