Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) (19 page)

"Saka!" I shouted. "Get out of the swamp! It's burning!" It was indeed flaming like a giant lake of lava. I scrambled up a slight rise to make my escape, Good Soul in my arms. The world flashed white hot and exploded, a giant thunderous boom, driving me to the dirt with tremendous force. Everything suddenly went black. Dead! I was dead! I saw Honeyhair's lovely face, contorted with grief. She reached out for me, convulsed. But I was gone.

Δ

I came back slowly, struggling through a thick red forest of jagged pain and burning flesh. As my sight returned, I was dazzled by the light, sunlight falling directly on my eyes. I was on my back, still in armor, but my helmet was off. People were standing around me. Who were they? Brights. Bright troopers in silvery armor, at their ease, those deadly Battlestorm lightning weapons slung casually over their shoulders. I became vaguely aware that I was lying there with a whole lot of other downed troopers, also on their backs, to my left and right. It didn't look good. Cloaking didn't work with Brights, I remembered from my first encounter with them.

It was silent. Deadly silent. A Bright to my right was standing over one of his captives. It was Monk. Still alive, looking up at the Bright.

The Bright moved the barrel of his weapon casually over to Monk's face and fired. The lightning blast blew Monk's head to smithereens and sprayed blood over us all. Yes, I had seen the Brights do this before, too. No mercy for their enemies. On Vezhedak I had seen a Bright soldier execute a wounded Demon the same way, with no more emotion than if he had been swatting a bug.

The Bright soldier stepped over to me. It looked like I was next. He pointed his weapon right at me.
All right, kill me, you bastard. I'll not cry and beg. Do it! I'm a soldier of the Legion and I'm not afraid of you!
That's what I was thinking. I closed my eyes, waiting for death. Something landed on my chestplate, hard. I opened my eyes. It was Good Soul, wrapping her arms around me with all her might, crying and screaming – screaming! I had never heard a Bright scream before. The Bright soldier stepped back in surprise. Then another Bright tried to pull Good Soul away, but he couldn't do it. And I heard her – I heard her thoughts!

Kill him and kill me! Kill love and peace! Kill the Black Angel! He is our savior! He liberated us, all of us, from the thoughtless dead! Kill me! Kill me! Kill me! Why do you hesitate?

They finally got her off me, although it took four of them to do it. She quickly broke away from their grasp, and attacked the soldier who had been about to shoot me, punching him right on the faceplate.

At that point things slowed down a bit. A crowd of Bright troopers stood around me, looking over the Bright military symbol that was lasered onto my chestplate. We had earned those colors on Kratar, killing Demons, and we were damned proud of them. Good Soul leaped on me again, wrapping her slim arms around me and holding on tight, shaking and crying. Nobody tried to stop her this time.
Kill him and kill me! Kill him and kill me!
She kept telepathing it.

It was then that Gidnurpel showed up. Whatever he said, it stopped the executions. I was stunned when I had a chance to look around me. All the UMC troopers and all my Delta comrades were lined up prone on the grassy field, and their helmets had been removed. Some were still unconscious and some were just awakening from the catastrophe that had befallen us. The Brights had evidently used some kind of wide-area stunstar. It had an immediate effect and put all their enemies out of action without bloodshed. The bloodshed was to come later, after they had examined who they had, and sorted them out. It looked to me like they planned to kill everyone – until Good Soul intervened.

Δ

The Brights landed a giant assault craft right in the UMC camp, and the backblast blew away the portmod, which up to that point had survived without damage. We watched it bounce away, like an errant beach ball, spewing equipment. The ship was a stunningly lovely white delta, but marked by the scars of the cosmos – plenty of ugly black burns from fiery drops into alien skies. By then all the Bright's captives were conscious, under orders not to rise from the ground, guarded by Bright soldiers but otherwise unrestrained. The swamp was still burning lightly – the gases were clearly flammable.

The Brights first selected all Delta troopers – marked by the Bright emblem – and escorted us into the Bright ship. We entered a little conference room and stood around a circular table where four Brights were already seated. Gidnurpel was one of them. Good Soul was still with me, clutching me by one arm, refusing to let go, and shrieking oral abuse at the Bright soldiers. I was happy to see that all Delta was there, with the exception of Bees who was on the
Vampire
and Bird who was presumably hiding somewhere with our Phantom
Ruthie.
The Prof was with us, and Doggie, Scout and Ice and Smiley and Saka and Arie. Blackie was missing.

There was a thought exchange between Gidnurpel and Good Soul. I could hear it.

Stop that vocalizing! Gidnurpel ordered. You make us look bad. What will the knights think? What will the Martial think?

I don’t trust them!
Good Soul replied.
They just want to kill! These are the people who rescued us from the thoughtless dead! We should honor them – not kill them! They said they will die for us, and now I will die for them! Do you hear, Martial? Kill him and kill me! I pledge it!

Enough, Good Soul
, one of the seated Brights said authoritatively.
We have no plans to kill them. You say they are thinking beings. Whom should I address?
He appeared to be young, a pale glowing face with golden hair and strange silvery eyes. We were pretty sure they were not young, but immortal.

Our leader is the learned one, Professor
, Ice cut in, touching the Prof to identify him,
but he does not have the gift of thought speech. I am Ice. I can speak for him. Or my companions, Prophet and Saka, can also speak for him.

Tell the Learned One we recognize the sign of the white hand, the Bright said, and we honor you. We know of your deeds at Kratar and our people have stood by yours in battle. We seek no vengeance against those who bear the white hand. Now tell us – where are our comrades?

Ice translated, and the Prof replied in Inter. Ice sent the Prof's reply in thought speech.

We killed nine thoughtless dead pirates to liberate three female Brights – your innocent comrades. Brights is the word we use for those of your race. Then we killed four more evil pirates and liberated two more Brights, and brought them to meet their comrades. Finally we took all five to our starship to protect them. Later our Mocain friends killed more pirates and liberated the male Bright Gidnurpel. Lastly, two of our soldiers found and liberated Good Soul, who had been running from the thoughtless dead.

Where is your starship?

It is in orbit.

Where are the rest of our comrades?

We regret to tell you that they were killed by the pirates. The pirates are merciless subhumans and we exterminate them when we catch them.

What is the other ship that is in orbit?

It is a Mocain ship – belonging to the United Mocain Coalition, that claims this world. It belongs to our comrades who do not wear the sign of the hand. They came here to kill the pirates. We came here to save Good Soul as we could hear her pleas for rescue. We are from the Confederation of Free Worlds. And our leader has a message for the Bright leaders, from the leader of the Confederation of Free Worlds.

We wish to see our five comrades. Bring them here.

Ice relayed that to the Prof and he got on the tacnet. "Vampire, Delta." There was no answer. Only a faint hissing. The Prof consulted with Ice.

You have blocked our communications to our starship,
Ice said.
Please restore it.

A few moments later, at a sign from the Martial, who was evidently the Bright leader, the Prof tried again. "Vampire, Delta, commo check."

"Delta, Vampire. It's great to hear you! What is the situation?"

"Vampire, Delta. Your status please."

"We've lost our cloaking, and a major Bright starship is now in orbit. There are so far no moves to attack us. What do you require?"

"Do not take any offensive steps against the Brights, Vampire. Send us one of your assault craft with those five Brights on board, accompanied by Bees, come uncloaked and land at the Mocain campsite near the Bright starcraft, acknowledge."

"Delta, Vampire. We acknowledge."

"Do it now, Vampire. Does ConFree know what's happening here?"

"Our commo has been completely shut down, Prof. The answer is no."

"Thank you, Vampire. We're out. Bird, Prof."

"Bird here. Prof, my commo has been completely out until right now and I've lost cloaking ability. What's the sit?"

"Sit tight, Bird. Don’t take any action against the Brights. I’ll let you know when I need you, out. Ice, tell the Bright leader that his people are on the way in an assault craft. And tell him I wish to pass a message from ConFree." Ice did so and the Martial agreed to hear it. Ice read silently from a doc card passed to her by the Prof, and as she read she sent the thoughts to the Brights.

Greetings to the Bright people and their leadership from the people and leadership of the human Confederation of Free Worlds, Ice read. We pledge peace and friendship and solidarity from one universe to another. We have stood by your side as allies in combat against the Demon hordes and our troops have fought and died in that joint effort. We will always value the relationship we have with our gallant allies. We welcome continuing friendly relations and we invite the Bright people and government to establish an embassy in the Confederation of Free Worlds. We are prepared to establish an embassy in Bright Haven, at your invitation. From Antara Taranatos-Hannah, Director General of the Confederation of Free Worlds.

"Done," Ice replied. She passed another doc card to his Excellency, explaining that it contained a neural recording of the document.

We will reply later to this document, the Martial said. Please tell the learned one to be seated. He is our equal in these talks.
The Prof took a seat at the table.

How many of your people were killed?
The Martial was looking at Gidnurpel. I was surprised at how easily I was reading his thoughts.

They killed seven of us – my closest friends,
Gidnurpel replied.

Seven of God's creatures, cut down by the unthinking dead, in an alien universe. What is your reaction?

How can you ask me that? Horror and regret. What else?

Horror and regret. This expedition was your idea, Gidnurpel. It was stupid! We, the knights, advised against it. A pointless, extended venture into an alternate universe, the Others, with no military escort, into an area where there is no way to call for help. Did you not laugh at our concerns, and call them fantasies? Tell us why you did it.

You know why. We are scientists. We seek knowledge. Pure knowledge leads to new truths. It was a deserted world. A perfect laboratory to learn more about the Others.

Science! And what happened to those female scientists who survived this ordeal?

It's horrible. Those monsters – forced them to mate. Against their will. Who could have imagined such an obscene, unthinkable thing?

How many victims of inter-species rape, Gidnurpel? How many?

Five. All except Good Soul.

Good Soul is the only admirable one among you! She is courageous and honorable. The rest of you are cowards. You make me sick, Gidnurpel. You insisted on this. You led your people to disaster. You didn't need the knights, did you? There was nothing to fear, was there? Science! I spit on your science! Now see what you have done, in your arrogance. Look what they have done to us! And what do you think we will do to them? How many millions of innocent humans are to die? Perhaps it will be in the billions. But that's no concern of yours, is it? You are intellectuals. Such matters are of no interest to you. The survival of our people is not a scientific matter, is it? Leave that to the knights – the lesser beings. You have more important things to do, don't you? How many of God's young soldiers will die in avenging our people? Their blood will be on your hands as well!

Gidnurpel was visibly stunned, just sitting there silently, frozen. The Bright leader lapsed into silence, his anger perhaps spent. Ice had translated the Martial's comments for the Prof, keeping her voice low. I knew the comments about millions or billions of humans dying were going to concern the Prof deeply.

You white hand humans – be seated, the Martial said. Why should you remain standing while this worthless lump Gidnurpel is permitted to sit? You are honorable soldiers, who liberated our people. And we honor your service. Be seated.

We pulled out the little chairs that lined the table and sat down. Good Soul was still right beside me, holding on to one arm tightly as if she expected someone to snatch me away at any moment. I felt so sorry for her. She was exactly as we had found her – sticky, mussed-up hair, bruises and cuts all over, her ragged uniform stained with slime and filth. But her face was shining with resolve. What a woman!

Now we wish to speak with the leader of your allies, those who you call Mocains,
the Martial said. I was getting better at hearing and understanding the thoughts from the Brights. There wasn't much of a translation problem because these were thoughts – there was no language involved. It was pure DX neural energy and could be "read" by anyone with DX in their brain. It had taken me awhile to realize that.

They brought in the big Mocain captain, still in his armor but with the helmet removed. He stood at attention.

"The Bright military officer asks your name, rank and who you represent," Ice said.