Earth Song: Etude to War (67 page)

“You,” Veka snapped at Minu, “you
armed them?!”

Minu smiled hugely and nodded. “Yep.”

“You would spend all this to give these… things modern weapons?”

“Oh, we didn’t spend anything. Those are your guns.”

“Wha-” she started to stammer, then remembered that a thousand beamcasters had been part of the deal in trade for the human hostage.

“Yeah. They decided it was a fair trade for the carnage you brought down here.”

“For the first attack and destruction of our portal facility.”

“Facility?” Veka snorted, then remembered the sea of guns aimed at her. Minu thought the highborn was going to burst a blood vessel. “You have an advantage,” she acknowledged. “What do you want?”

“Get off our world,” the Traaga said simply and walked in its crab-like sideways motion right up to Veka. Its head telescoped higher, almost coming even with her tattooed face. “And do not return, ever.”

“You are ordering me?”

“I am demanding it, as the lawful leader of these people, as a species that is awakened and independent, and as an aggrieved party to your unprovoked aggression. I demand it as the law demands it.”

Minu smiled at how the Traaga kept its calm and spoke the words she’d given it word for word.

“This is not over between us,” Veka said the Minu who was no longer holding her hands up. She had her right hand resting on the butt of her shock rifle, ready to pick up where they left off. This time she vowed that the highborn would be the first to die.

“You are damned right it isn’t. We’ll see your furry ass on Nexus.”

* * *

The last of the Tanam were marched through the portal. Veka didn’t have any of the sense of responsibility Minu did in the field. The highborn was the first through, her troops following dejectedly. Minu considered disarming them as they went, and then discarded the idea. Maybe that would have been a dealbreaker with the easily angered cats. Even a thousand armed Traaga would have been hard pressed to deal with three hundred Tanam warriors.

When the portal closed, she turned to the Traaga she’d dubbed Bob. Bob was their newly minted leader, the results of a day’s hard negotiations to obtain the weapons. They tended to operate in a loose consensus form of government with no true leadership.

She’d succeeded in convincing them that this was ultimately part of their problem. You can’t make good deals or respond to threats when everything took a meeting. Since the vaguely insectoid species all appeared identical, Bob now sported a spray painted pair of chevrons on each leg. A nod to the humans in aiding their recognition of individuality.

“That went well,” he chirped through his translator.

“I’m glad you think so,” Minu replied, though less confident. The Traaga’s simplistic view of things might still lead them to their doom. “The Tanam will be very angry with you.”

“We still have legitimate claim against them for their hostilities.” Minu nodded in agreement. “We are grateful for the weapons.”

“What do you intend to do with them?”

“Defend ourselves.”

Minu nodded again.

“We are a poor species. Ever since the Acoota rescued us from our home world and then were destroyed by the T’Chillen, we’ve been orphans on this pathetic excuse of a world. Survival has taken all we can earn from work and salvage.

The composite eyes observed one of the newly armed Traaga warriors carefully examining its new weapon. “We had a few weapons, though never as powerful as these, and never as many. This changes much.”

“All beings should have the right to defend themselves.”

Bob turned to regard her. “This we agree,” he said.

Minu smiled even though she was sure the gesture would be lost on the alien. She needed to get off the world and home. Too much had happened. She hadn’t come fully to grips with her loss of Aaron, and she didn’t want that to happen on an alien world.

“We must be going now,” Minu said. Outside the two Lancers were grounded waiting for her. They’d fly through the portal and to home as a team.

“May I ask something more of you, even though you have given so much?”

“You may.”

“Teach us to fight.”

Minu looked surprised at the alien, not sure what to say. She thought carefully of the reply. “Are you sure you want to go down that road.”

“We are,” said Bob.

“And why?”

“So that we can fight with you. We wish to join forces with the humans.”

Chapter 81

September 26th, 534 AE

Office of the First, Fort Jovich, Peninsula Tribe Territory, Bellatrix

Dram knocked twice then glanced around the half open door. Minu sat at her desk and watched the storm outside spending its fury against the escarpment that was home to Fort Jovich. He walked in quietly and stood before her desk, content to wait as long as it took for her to acknowledge him.

“I heard you, Dram,” she said after a long moment.

“I know,” he said.

“Any intel yet?”

“We’ve finished inquiries to all the reliable sources we have, and more than a few unreliable.” He didn’t say any more. There was no need. Minu didn’t look away from the storm, only nodded her head. “You should take some time…”

“And do what exactly? Hide on my island and cry?”

“If that’s what would do you the most good.”

“We’re all Chosen, Dram.” She turned in her swivel chair to face him. Her tummy was starting to show. The view made his jaw muscles clench. Her face, though… He’d expected, what, eyes red from crying? A haunted or pained look? What he saw almost made him take a step back. What he saw was steel, white hot blue steel. “We signed on for this, we all know the price that must sometimes be paid.”

“Aaron was retired.”

“Not by choice,” she said and Dram nodded.

“How soon before your daughter arrives?”

“Two days,” Minu told him, a hint of a smile chased across her face for the barest of instances before disappearing once more. “When the Tanam told me Aaron was gone, she started cutting corners and using the tactical drive more often. She’s only about a three hundred-fifty light-years away.”

“Right around the corner,” Dram joked and that smile went by again, though less real this time. “Shame she’s going to miss us moving the planet.”

* * *

Minu hadn’t set foot in the deep control bunker in years. Kilometers under the Steven’s Pass headquarters, it had been cut into the living mantel of the planet thousands of years before mankind learned to communicate with more than grunts and hand gestures. Pip guessed it was linked with the gravitic base on Remus. Ted and Bjorn weren’t so sure.

She had an office down there, her name on the door and everything. She didn’t bother visiting it. The bunker was meant to command the Chosen during a worst case attack on Bellatrix. She vowed to never be down there while her people were dying far overhead.

“Remus operations reports ready,” a communications technician spoke up. The command center was retasked today. In another supply room, more than a thousand of the best tablets humanity owned were laboriously networked together to make the most powerful computer system in light-years.

Arguably more powerful than the Kaatan’s brain on Lilith’s ship, though she might argue the point. It was decided to use the ad hoc network because the computer on the Kaatan was not intended to be reprogrammed as a dedicated ‘fractal geometric/gravimetric plotting device’ as Ted called this network.

Thousands of kilometers overhead the moon of Remus was orbiting into place. A similar array of tablet computers were assembled there, meant to perform redundant calculations. If the two systems disagreed, they would err on the side of caution.

“Report Ted,” Minu said.

“We’re ready up here,” Ted came back after a slight lag. A dozen Chosen scientists and a handful of Rasa were up on the moon with him running that side of the operation. “Power at one hundred percent, RemusNet purring like a kitten.”

“BunkerNet up and running,” Bjorn replied on the radio. His control was a few meters away on what had been a computer that would control planetary power reserves in the event of an invasion. Some of the world’s leaders had been skeptical of the plan. It took three meetings with just about every physicist on the world to convince all the tribes leadership that this was the only logical plan.

All the science indicated the sun was entering an increased period of activity. The Tog agreed with their own data, gleaned from the Concordian database, even though information on Bellatrix was sparse.

Minu had ultimately sealed the deal in a meeting right after their return from Coorson on the failed prison exchange. She addressed all the tribal leaders via teleconference.

“There are a few other options,” she’d explained, “all are much more expensive than this option, all have considerable risk, and all have less chance of success.”

All the faces of the leaders observed her in silence as she shrugged. “The Lost did this every few thousand years, maybe every ten thousand at the most. The sun is aging and growing bigger as it runs low on fuel. We either move the planet, or we start trying to find a new planet. And a lot of you know what that might entail.”

They’d unanimously agreed to the plan, risks and all. The price was negligible. Two thousand cheap tablet computers and a dozen trips to Remus and back aboard Phoenix shuttles.

For a few minutes the command center was quiet. Everyone examined their displays as data scrolled across screens confirming all was in readiness.

“Inform the planetary leadership we are commencing,” Minu told their PR man. All the tribes were instructed, and over the planet sirens began to sound. Everyone knew what was about to happen. Millions of humans held their breath.

“We’re approaching aphelion,” Ted said from the Remus. “It’s now or never.”

“Noted Remus,” Minu said and took a deep breath. “Initiate as planned.”

The vast banks of gravitic planers on Remus were fed terawatts of power. Computers were fed calculations that began to align and form the titanic gravity fields as they formed around the moon. In moments, the little planetoid had a gravity field more immense than a gas giant, and continued to grow.

When the field had grown to the point that it began to touch at the planet below, Ted told the computer to begin the next phase of the operation. Tendrils of gravitic energy linked Remus to Romulus and formed a fulcrum to anchor against the planet. Finally almost all the power was directed at the sun as it began to
push.

On the planet’s surface nothing was immediately apparent. Display screens showed power flowing and technicians noted the increases in power. The numbers being bandied about were almost beyond comprehension.

Minu’s attention moved from screen to screen, straining her scientific knowledge to its limits to stay on top of what was happening. She heard a tinkle and looked down at her desk. Her water glass was shimmying, and the water inside was no longer level. It had a noticeable tilt to it. “Oh wow,” she whispered.

“We have movement confirmed,” one technician yelled, “one meter per second and increasing.”

“Confirmed,” Bjorn said, then laughed. “We’re moving the planet!” A round of cheers went up around the room. And then the first alarm sounded.

“Report!” Minu demanded.

“Seismic activity in the southern hemisphere,” one of the monitors replied.

“How bad?”

“About a 4.5 on the Richter scale,” Bjorn came back. “No population with a hundred kilometers. We’re feeding the data to RomulusNet.”

“Field is updating,” Ted said from the moon.

A second later the tremors mitigated, only to be followed by another, and another. The glass danced on her table and she grabbed the arms of her chair as the shaking built in intensity. “Bjorn!”

“We’re feeding in the corrections.” More and more technicians bent over their consoles, each feeding in coordinates of tremors all over the planet. In only five minutes every data tech on the floor was punching in corrections.

“Velocity ten meters per second and continuing to increase,” someone announced.

“Power reserved depleted by five percent,” A Rasa said from Remus.

And alarm. “Major seismic event, Equatorial Ocean, seven point nine on the Richter scale!”

“Tsunami alerts issued to the Peninsula tribe,” another person said. Minu grimaced. The Peninsula tribe was some of the last holdouts against the plan. This would likely validate their fear.

“Ted, it’s getting bumpy down here.”

“We’re inputting changes as fast as we can,” he replied. “I suspect this was an automated process when the Lost did it.”

For fifteen minutes they battled the planet and increasingly powerful quakes until Ted announced they needed to alter their momentum.

“We need more angular momentum to stabilize the orbital shift,” he told them. And a moment later dozens of alarms started screaming.

“Tectonic instability in the eastern continental plate!” Bjorn yelled.

“We’re compensating,” Ted came back.

The ground shook under the bunker. The eastern continent was where Steven’s Pass was, as well as the majority of the population of the planet.

“Instability is increasing,” warned their geological expert, a civilian scientist.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to call this off,” Bjorn was the first to admit. The technicians were falling behind logging tremors and the first damage reports were starting to come in from around the planet. Minor so far, but that wouldn’t last.

“Ted,” can we mitigate this instability further?” Minu asked.

“I don’t believe so,” his solemn reply came a moment later.

“Tectonic stresses are peaking,” the geologist warned.

“Terminate the project,” she ordered, reluctantly.

“We’ll lose part of the progress,” Bjorn warned.

“I know,” she said. A second later, the vast banks of gravitic planers were spun down to inactivity. Within moments, the warning lights and tremors reports diminished, and stopped all together.

An hour later they had an after-action meeting about the project. In the one hour and twenty minutes in which the moon’s gravity generators were pressing them outwards from the sun, they’d moved Bellatrix a grand total of two hundred kilometers of stable distance while expending enough power to run their world for one hundred years. While no real damage had occurred, and only a few minor injuries, the project had to be declared a failure.

“We don’t have the computing power to counter the effects,” Ted told them as a group.

“If we scaled up the push, faster and more directed?” Minu wondered.

“We’d rip the planet apart,” their geologist said simply. Minu looked around and all the other nodded in agreement.

“I’m afraid it’s the best we can do,” Bjorn summed it up. “We’ll need to purchase a Concordian mega-computer to come close. It’s probably the cheapest option.”

“Okay,” she said, “investigate that option and get back to me.” She sighed and stretched. “For now, I have a lengthy report to write for a few thousand politicians and reporters.” She hoped they would take it well, they’d become used to the Chosen accomplishing miracles.

The reports in the press were less than favorable, while at the same time acknowledging that the Chosen attempted the near impossible. Minu softened the blow by announcing that the tidal energy harvesting mechanisms of Remus would be tapped to start providing power to Bellatrix. “The result will be an immediate twenty percent decrease in the amount of power we are buying off world,” she’d proudly told them. That was received with positive approval worldwide. She didn’t go into much detail of how the savings were to be spent on a computer to try the planetary movement project again later.

The long, long day finally over, Minu retired to her second office in Steven’s Pass and found the small cot in the back. It had previously been Jacob’s office; now she seldom sat foot in it. She took a quick shower before pulling on some pajamas against the usual cool building (especially in the fall) and climbed into bed.

Lying there in the dark she tried to simply clear her mind and fall to sleep, then she felt something. At first she thought it was just a random muscle twitch in her abdomen, then it happened again and she sat up, flicking the little light on. She pulled up her pajama top and looked at the little bulge of her belly. And there it was again, a slight twitch.

“My baby,” she said in a delighted, wonderful whisper. “Our baby,” she said, and then all the shoring up of her emotional separation failed, and the ceiling caved in. “Oh, Aaron!” she sobbed and hugged her tummy. “Why?! I’ve lost too many I loved! When will it end?”

In the darkness of Steven’s Pass, there was no answer to her questions. Only the occasional and gentle movements of her unborn baby.

Epilogue

Two hundred fifty light-years from where her mother lay wrapped in the joys of motherhood, and the pains of loss, Lilith and her ship sailed through space at 15,000 times the speed of light. At that maximum cruising speed she was only a little over one day from home in Bellatrix.

She’d listened to her mother cry out in pain finally over the loss of her husband, a man she’d loved first and most in her life. Lilith also felt his loss, but in her own way. Her emotions hadn’t been nurtured to develop like other human children. The pain of loss was there, she just didn’t have the same mechanisms to deal with it as other humans.