Resolute Victory (The War for Terra) Page 7

  The door was closed and the lights were dimmed. She rubbed her arms where the guards had been carrying her. It took a few moments before an image materialized on the wall. The lines were familiar to her, but she could not place the location. The room was small and sterile. There was a long, low table, about two meters in length with straps along the side. She thought for a moment they were going to show her images of her own torture and laugh out loud.

  A woman entered the scene pulling a tray of tools on a cart. She was dressed in a medical gown and wearing gloves. It took the woman a few moments to realize she was seeing a human. Several things snapped into her mind at that time. One was that she was seeing a video from a human ship somewhere. The other was that she was watching something the enemy thought was important for her to see. A cold finger of terror drew a line down her spine.

  Another human entered the view. He was tall with a long face that looked both sad and determined. He seemed to be directing the woman to place the tools beside the table. She thought she recognized the man from somewhere. He finished placing the trays and stood aside as the door to the operating theater opened.

  It was the man from her dreams. She saw the man enter the room, handcuffed and escorted by two guards in Alliance uniforms. The guards were armed, but the man did not resist. He was wearing only a hospital gown and no shoes. To her, he looked more than capable of breaking free from his guards, but he did not even try. He was escorted to the table and instructed to lie down. He was helped onto the table and the cuffs were removed.

  The prisoner could not believe what she was seeing. The man, whom she knew was her brave knight, was going to be operated on by the instruments. How the enemy received the transmission and why they were showing it to her was a mystery. It must have been a forgery of some kind, digital magic to keep her off balance and confused. Armed with the knowledge of the forgery, she would watch the footage and laugh at their joke.

  The man was strapped securely to the table by the guards before they left. There was no exchange between the doctor and the man, so the woman knew it wasn’t her man. He would have been struggling and ripping at the binding to get free. He would also have been telling dirty jokes to the nurse. That thought made her laugh out loud. The man would have had the doctor in stitches, and that image made her laugh harder.

  The doctor did not smile though, and continued his work. He swabbed the arm of the man with a square of gauze before inserting a needle and tube. The nurse stepped in and connected the tube to a machine held on the cart. The machine had three cylinders held together by bands of metal. The nurse stepped away and the doctor leaned closer to the man on the table. There were a few words whispered into the man’s ear and then the doctor stepped back. The man on the table took a deep breath before nodding to the doctor. With a deliberate slowness, the doctor stepped back to the machine and pressed a key on the face.

  The woman leaned in closer to see the details. First, the far right plunger began to depress. The man closed his eyes and relaxed. He said something before his eyes closed. The prisoner thought she almost read what his lips were saying. It was a short phrase, or maybe a word. His lips had risen and fallen with only a small pause as they came together again. Her heart hurt as she thought she understood what he had said, but it slipped away.

  The second plunger fell and the man became utterly still. She could see his body relax fully. The color seemed to drain from the man’s dark face. There was a lock of thick hair covering his forehead and she wanted to brush it away from his face.

  It took a long moment before the doctor stepped closer to the machine. He reached to the third plunger and tapped a button on the top. There seemed to be a problem with the device. Another tap and the plunger began to move downward. The final compound pumped into the man’s blood and she knew it was over. Even though she knew it was fake, she could not bring herself to laugh.

  The doctor stepped into the center of the frame and called out something to whoever was watching. He turned to the body and checked for a pulse, before speaking to the nurse. She recorded something on a clipboard and walked to the door. The guards re-entered the room and stood to either side of the body. The table was raised on built-in wheels and the man was wheeled out of the room. It took the doctor a few more moments before he left. The steps seemed to age the doctor more than anything she had seen. The room was cleared and left empty.

  The lights came back on and the Ch’Tauk guards stomped back into the room. She could not shake the feeling that the man had said something important before he died. It was the one detail that she could not understand. Why would the enemy show her an image of an execution just so she could hear a whisper from the man? It rang too true for a forged image. The alternative was unthinkable though. If the projection was real, the man she loved was dead. She would not believe that. She had stayed alive all this time for him and she knew that if he was dead, so was she.

  A sudden flash of insight finally cleared the murky depths of her mind. She knew what the man had said. In some deep part of her mind, she even imagined that he had said it directly to her. It was a message meant to keep her from despair. He had known the video would be broadcast and received by the enemy. He’d left her a message of hope. She would stay alive for him, no matter what. Her mind’s eye showed her the image again. It was not a fantasy this time; he was alive and waiting for her somewhere. She saw his lips move, but this time she heard his voice. It was the voice of her savior. It was a single word that fueled her back to life.

  “Alice…”

  8

  Earth – Wyoming

  Henry Moore’s right hand slammed into the metal desk, sending a burst of pain up his arm and nudged the coffee cup over the edge. The cup tumbled to the hard stone floor and dashed into coffee-stained pieces. The brown liquid also splashed on a pair of black patent leather shoes, polished to a high shine.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Henry shouted at the man in the shoes. “I told you they’re coming. We have to send that signal.”

  “Stand down, Sergeant,” the man replied. “You are out of line. In this office, you don’t give orders, you take them. Am I being perfectly clear?’

  The man was tall and thin, with short, bristle-cut black hair and a thin mustache. It was not only his shoes that shined, but also something about the man himself. He was the image of polished professional. His dark suit was pressed to a razor’s edge, and the tie made up in a perfect double Windsor knot. He spoke with a precision that could cut as deeply as a blade, and had a mind that was even sharper.

  “Jack,” Henry said, trying to calm down. “I was sent here to get things ready for the return. My orders were to wait for the signal and alert the other teams. I got the signal, now I have to send the alert.”

  “Henry, I understand your orders, but think about this from my perspective. You arrived almost a year ago with a story about a new Alliance between men and the other races. After five years, we finally heard from the outside galaxy and the news was hopeful. In that time, though, except for that bauble of yours suddenly glowing, we’ve heard nothing from your Alliance. I have only your word that they even exist.”

  “Wait a minute,” Henry said, his anger rising again. “After all this time, you still don’t believe me?”

  “No, no, Henry, I believe you think this whole thing is true…”

  “You son of a bitch!” Henry yelled, advancing around the table at the taller man. “You used me and my team for what? So you could blow up a few factories? Inspire the others? Was there anything about the last seven months that was real? What about the blood of my team, Jack? Did that mean anything to you but show?”

  “Of course they did, Henry, don’t be hysterical,” Jack Cole replied. “I’ve never questioned your loyalty or honor, Henry. The fact is I cannot send that message from this facility. It’s too risky.”

  “Risky?” Henry replied, standing face to face with Cole. “How about the risks I take every time I step outside this place? How ab
out the risk I took to blow up that factory yesterday? Don’t you think you owe me just a little bit of risk for a chance to reclaim our planet?”

  “So you say, Sergeant, but you have to look at it from the other side,” Cole replied, backing down. “Since you came here we have added literally hundreds of people to this facility — civilians, who we now have to protect, feed, and keep healthy. If you send that signal, the Ch’Tauk can zero in on us and take this place. What about that risk? Are you willing to undo everything that you have fought for? What your team died to protect?”

  Henry pulled his right arm back and swung at the other man. Cole moved with amazing speed for his size, side-stepping the punch and stepping into Henry’s swing. He grabbed the outstretched arm and pulled. Henry was yanked off balance and twisted around. A sharp blow to his back sent the soldier stumbling towards the office wall. He was able to brace himself before smashing into the stone wall, but he knocked a picture frame down, which shattered as it hit the floor.

  “Henry,” Cole said, adjusting his tie as he stood straight again. “I know you are upset, but please don’t make me throw you in the brig. It wouldn’t look good to the others.”

  “That’s all this is about to you, isn’t it?” Henry replied, turning on the man with vengeance. “Appearance is everything to you, with your pressed suits and perfect ties. You don’t give a damn about the ones you send out into the mud and rain, do you? We’re all so far beneath you—”

  “That’s enough!” The man’s voice silenced Henry. There was something in that voice which held authority and power. Henry’s military training responded and almost made him snap to attention. Cole stood straight and looked back at Henry with a calm reserve. He did not appear upset or even ruffled by the exchange.

  “Henry,” Cole said. “When you arrived seven months ago, you brought a story of hope to this base. We believed your story. I believed your story, and I still do. You told us about the Alliance and even brought hope to Ev about his son. You also said they would be contacting you in a few weeks. It’s been seven months, and now, out of the blue, you receive a signal telling you that your friends are coming back. If they are, using the fleet you described, they won’t make it past the first picket ships up there. There is no way they can defeat the Ch’Tauk.”

  “The commodore had plans, Jack,” Henry said, straightening his muddy jacket. “He said he would send the signal as soon as they were ready. You and I both know that plans don’t always work out as quickly as we want. So it took a while longer, who cares? If he sent that signal, they are coming, and I have a mission to perform.”

  “I respect that mission, Henry, I really do,” Jack replied, stepping around the desk to kneel at the wall. “I just don’t think it’s worth the risk to the facility to contact teams whom you don’t even know are still alive. I have to think of the big picture.”

  Cole had knelt by the wall to pick up the shattered picture frame. Henry watched as the man placed the frame with rare reverence onto his desk. Jack was a cool operator most of the time who showed little or no emotion when it came to the protection of the base. The image in the frame showed four young men standing together with black robes and graduation caps. Henry could not make out the faces, but had never heard the other man mention family.

  “Look, Jack, I get it. I understand the need to keep this place secret from the bugs,” Henry began. “I think the big picture, though, should include the retaking of this planet by the Alliance.”

  Jack Cole turned to look at Henry. He seemed utterly sad at that moment. Henry knew the man had been some sort of intelligence agent before the invasion. He had apparently been in the process of shutting the facility down when the Ch’Tauk attacked. When Everett Pearce showed up looking for sanctuary, Cole had decided to set up a kind of military command post to coordinate a resistance. It took the two men only a few weeks to discover that there wasn’t enough of the Confederation left to call it a resistance. After that, he and Ev had gathered the remnants of the local population and set up a sanctuary for survivors. Since Henry had arrived, their efforts had turned to more aggressive actions, but the focus had always been on keeping the civilians safe.

  “I may have an idea,” Cole said quietly. “It isn’t the best thing I’ve come up with, but it might suit your needs and mine.”

  “As long as it results in that signal going out, I don’t care if it involves rubbing maple syrup on my chest and burying me in ants,” Henry said with a trace of a smile. “Let’s do it.”

  “There are three other facilities within traveling distance of here that can send that signal,” Cole said. “They were closed down decades ago by Confederate Intelligence, but they should still function with a little work.”

  “What facilities? You’ve never mentioned any other sites,” Henry said, stepping around the desk to look at Cole directly. “How do we get there?”

  “It’s not that simple, Henry,” Cole replied. “You won’t have to rub anything anywhere, I swear. I will ask that you trust us, though.”

  “Of course, Jack. I’ve been waiting for a long time and I have lost so much,” Henry said, looking back at the desk and the broken picture frame. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You’ll need to share the codes and messages,” Jack said. “We’ll need to send multiple teams to each facility to ensure that the message gets out.”

  “That makes sense,” Henry said. “Who do you suggest?”

  “I’ll let you choose the teams, it’s your mission,” Cole replied, stepping back around to sit at the desk. “I think the teams should have no more than five in each group. The other locations aren’t easy to get to. You’ll need climbing gear and warmer clothing.”

  “I think a pair of three-man teams for each site would be best,” Henry said, his mind already putting together lists. “We’ll need to leave right away.”

  “Get what you need from requisitions,” Cole said, writing instruction down on a slip of paper and handing it to Henry. “Don’t take any of the civilians, Henry. I want trained fighters out there.”

  “Yeah,” Henry replied, turning to leave the office. “I agree. I think I know who to take. I can get them ready to leave in a few hours. Thanks, Jack.”

  “Henry, wait!” Cole called out as Moore opened the door. “There’s one more thing. I know how hard it was for you when your team died. This is your mission, Henry. I want to be sure you can handle it if these people don’t make it.”

  Henry stared at him for a long moment before letting the door close again. He stepped back into the room and approached the desk. As he stepped over, he glanced at the picture in the shattered frame. There were four young men, each with a broad smile for the camera. Henry recognized Cole as the boy in the center right of the image. He was a head taller than any of the other boys and looked less ecstatic than the others. He wondered what had happened to the others.

  “Jack,” Henry began. “Losing my team hurt like hell, I ain’t gonna lie. The hardest part has been learning to trust anyone else with my life. We don’t have the luxury of choosing who will live and die anymore. The only mercy we have left is in choosing who can die standing up and who we leave lying down. This is war, Jack, and people will die. I just pray every day that if it’s my time to go, I do it for the right reasons and with the right people. Live or die, that signal will go out and Earth will be ours again. I promise.”

  Henry turned and left the room, leaving Jack alone. The stone walls reflected the cold actinic light from above. Jack reached for the picture frame and wiped away the broken glass. He looked at the faces of the other boys, full of hope and excitement on the day of their graduation from intelligence training. They had been the best the Confederacy had trained and he could still hear their names being called out by the officer in charge. As he recited the names, he thought about what Henry had said and hoped that each had died on their feet.

  “Oliver Atkinson, Jack Cole, Jon Sandoval, Parker Ruiz, you are the future of the confederacy and
we salute you…”

  9

  Alliance Transport Terran Hope

  Maneuvering his Silver Eagle through the enormous space doors into the hangar area of the Terran Hope seemed odd and unfamiliar to Lee. It had been over a year since he had last set foot on the ship that had once been his home and the sensation of coming home was unexpected. Although his ship had resided on this deck for three years, the fighter was almost an entirely new ship than when it was here last.

  The remaining three Eagles in the squadron followed closely on his tail as the ships found a spot near the rear bulkhead offices. Lee spun his ship around to face the massive doors and gently set the fighter down on a painted landing area. He noticed another of the fighters sitting nearby and realized that Merlin, his other pilot, must already be aboard.

  As the ship cycled down and he waited for the siren to indicate the pressurization of the hangar, Lee glanced up at the overhead repair bay. Three years ago, he had followed Alice there for a lunchtime rendezvous, the first time they had made love, and the true beginning of their short time together. Memories of that day kept him occupied until the all-clear signal was loud and his canopy unsealed to let him out.

  His Eagle had been specially treated by the creatures known as “elves” with a molecularly bonded hull sheath. The surface of the ship was only molecules thick and nearly frictionless. Lee activated the magnetic pads on his boots that allowed him to step onto the wing. By mistake, he had grabbed his old pair of boots when preparing for the transfer, and could hear the worn metal disks click as they made contact with the fighter’s hull. Alice had begged him to throw out the old boots, but he had kept them out of sentimental affection. Now the sound reinforced Alice’s absence with each step.

  “Hey boss!” Merlin’s voice echoed across the cavernous space. “Where ya been? I dropped you off days ago.”