Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) (44 page)

"This is it, gang," Bird said, with a giant grin. "This is the result of all that research we did into that Demon saucer on Pandaravos. Plus plenty more recent input from the Brights. Thousands of these babies are going to be filling the skies over Vulcan. This is Andraste, and her mission is to kill anything that moves. She's real good at what she does. The Phantom is now obsolete. Stand by for the future!" Bird had a right to be proud. He was the Legion lead scientist of the joint Assidic-ConFree effort that had exploited the captured Demon saucer and created this new, wonderful weapon.

Bird gave us a great briefing on the Andraste and on all the other spacecraft that were to be involved in the Vulcan attack. The Demons were still using the saucers with which we were all familiar. They were damned good, better than the Phantoms, but not quite as good as the Andraste. The Darks would be using a very advanced strike fighter that looked a little like a giant silver bird. We had not yet encountered that ship. The Stellar Commune had some new saucer-like craft that were evidently based on the Demon design, but their numbers were very limited so we were not too worried about them. Some of our allies would be joining us in the attack. Bird wouldn't reveal much about that except that we would see some familiar friendlies overhead. Everybody was being pretty close-mouthed about details.

Δ

Ice was shivering, seated in the airchair by the little dox table in the Prof's office. She was clearly in shock, her face twitching, ice pale, cold sweat, trembling all over and crying like a baby. She was wearing a filmy sweat-soaked sleeveless top and panties, no socks. The Prof sat nearby, clad in pajamas, leaning over the table to comfort her. There were only the two of them in the room.

"I can't stand it!" she gasped, raising her trembling hands to cover her face. "Oh God oh God have mercy. No! No! No! I can't…I can't…"

"Easy, Ice. Please calm down. It may not happen. It may not. The vision is just the first step. It's not bad that you saw it, it's good. Maybe we can take steps to counter it. So it doesn’t happen."

"No! No! No!" she wailed, tears dripping from her chin. "It's terrible! Oh God you didn’t see it! Oh no oh no I can’t believe it!"

"Have some dox, please."

"No! No! No! Dox won't fix this! Nothing will fix this! I can't stand it!"

"Please, Ice. Calm down."

"I don't want anybody else to know about this! Nobody else! Promise me! You promise me, Professor!"

"I promise, Ice."         

"On Delta! Swear it to God, Professor. On all that is holy! Swear it to Deadman! Not a word, to anybody!"

"I swear it, on Delta."

"We don't go to the brainscan!"

"No. We won't."

Ice clutched her hands together, interlocking fingers. It was almost as if she were praying.

"Ice. Please calm down now. It's important that you tell me everything. Everything you saw. First, does Kwan know?"

"No! All he knows is I woke up and went hysterical. And demanded to see you. He's outside waiting. Don’t tell him! "

"I'll tell no one."

"Not even the Legion. Nobody! You confiscate the record from the DX monitor!"

"You have my promise. Now, I'm sorry, but I need details. Exactly what did you see?"

"It started very quickly. I had just arrived. It was in the darkness. But there was a lot of ordnance going off, lasers snapping on and off, tacstar bursts falling into the dark, lightning flashing, lighting it all up from time to time. I was in armor."

"What did you see first?"

Ice raised her trembling hands again, covering her face. "Oh God have mercy. I saw Prophet. I had been looking for him. He was sprawled in the mud on his back, limbs all twisted, motionless, his weapon nowhere in sight. His armor was glowing white-hot and dotted with scores of evil ragged smoking holes. Oh God I can see every…awful…detail. He was no longer cloaked. His chestplate was ripped open at the waist and blood was spurting forth from his guts. Two laser tracks ran diagonally across his chestplate, still flickering. His faceplate was smashed. I went to my knees beside him, stunned. Then Bees showed up.

"Bees snapped Prophet's visor up, it jammed, and she yanked it off. I could see clearly into his helmet. His face was all bloody, ripped open, cheekbones exposed. It looked like he had been shot in the face. His skull was shattered – blood and brain matter was still leaking out. Oh God, oh God. Open dead bloody eyes. Dead, I could see. Dead dead dead. Oh my God. Bees shrieked and raised her arms and…she cursed God. I think that's what she did. But then I heard Smiley on the tacnet. 'Nitro is hit bad,' he said.

"'Nitro!' I shouted and leaped to my feet and charged over to the site, telepathing the Brights for an emergency medevac. I arrived and Smiley was cradling Nitro in his arms. Nitro's armor was blasted all to hell, it looked like a tacstar hit. Then you called me on the tacnet and asked me to telepath Breakblade and call a priority medevac.

"I told you I had done it and that Nitro was dying. Smiley injected him with a shot of cyro and we did what we could to stop the bleeding. The cyro was not effective. Nitro was just barely alive. We ripped off his chestplate. Then we slapped on a biotic charger.

"Smiley did a biotic charge. Again! Again! Again! Life signs were flat. Smiley kept triggering the charger until smoke started rising from Nitro's chest.

"'Oh no. No! Keep it up! Keep it up!' I pleaded for him to continue, but it was hopeless. 'It’s no good, Ice,' Smiley told me. 'He's gone.'

"Then I told you on the net that we had lost Nitro, and I kind of broke down completely. Nitro was dead, and I cried like a baby.

And now Ice burst into tears again, in the Prof's office. "We can't tell them," she moaned. "We can't tell them."

"No, we can't tell them," the Prof replied. "And we won't."

Δ

After Ice left, the Prof thought about her DX vision. Prophet and Nitro were to be killed in action. What should he do about that? What
could
he do about that? Others might die as well. That's a risk you take, as a soldier of the Legion. Should he transfer them out of the squad? To protect them? No. You can’t avoid your fate, can you? No. All he could do was ensure that they had all they needed to survive. Yes, it was one squad, indivisible, and they were all going to Vulcan. Some would survive, and some would die. He would watch over them all, sure, but they were big kids now. He would be sad to lose them both. Prophet and Nitro were both good boys. But everybody had to do their part, for the women and children of ConFree, for the next generation, and if it involved dying for the cause, so be it. The Prof would be at their sides, no matter what. And maybe he would die, too. It was a shame. But maybe it would not happen. Delta was still learning about DX prophesies. The future was certainly tricky. It was not unchangeable, far from it. After all, that was why Delta Research was in business, wasn't it?

Δ

"Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you," Tara said. "We shall continue tomorrow. When we have all had time to reflect further. We are going to get this right. And we are all going to be in agreement. We owe that to the women and children of ConFree, and all their descendants. Good night, good night. Get some sleep." The band of black-clad generals and admirals slowly shuffled out of the office of the Director General of ConFree. Dragon raised a hand in farewell. Dragon at least understood, Tara reflected. It had been a contentious session. Everyone was on edge. Nobody wanted to go to war, but they knew it was inevitable. And they had to get it right. The future of all humanity would depend on it. Not just ConFree, but all humanity.

It was well into the following morning, pitch black outside, so dark and overcast that Tara could not even see the lights of the starport through the panoramic armored picture window.

"Anything else, sir?" Lori, Tara's long-time secretary, stood in the doorway, hesitating.

"No, that's all, Lori. Go home and get some rest. Thank you. We start again at 0530."

"Yes sir." She faded away, securing the outer office.

Tara returned to the galactic stratsit holomap, which floated over the holo table, a great glorious burning sphere, a billion glowing jewels, cosmic rivers of fluorescent milky stars, lovely thrilling nebulae. It was like some brilliant mad artist's final canvas, his final statement, to be viewed over his pale, wasted corpse.

Fleets of battlestars dotted the galaxy throughout the map, every capital ship in Fleetcom, endless fleets of support ships. And the ConFree Legion was on the move, every last Legion, thousands, then tens of thousands, then hundreds of thousands of troopers, closing in on that tiny world, Vulcan, not even visible at that scale. The enemy was not on the map yet, but that would change quickly, Tara knew. And they were in for quite a fight when they surfaced from their ratholes. We are raising a mighty host, she thought, and we owe it to every trooper, slogging through the mud, to get it right before the first shot is fired.

No, there would be no sleep tonight. She knew even if she tried to sleep she would only see the holo starmap burning in her mind. So let's just stay here, and decide – a few things that still need deciding.

She turned away from the holo table to reflect and gasped in horror at the creature standing right before her. Dark! she thought in panic. He was within arm's reach, a tall male with tangled black hair, burning dark eyes that seemed to penetrate right into her soul, clean shaven, scowling, clad in what looked like an A-vest over a soft brown cloth uniform. She could tell instantly that this was real – he was flesh and blood, not any kind of holo. She opened her mouth to scream. He raised a hand and gestured and her throat was paralyzed. She could only croak weakly, standing there goggle-eyed before him. A faint odor reached her nostrils. What was that stink? Sulfur!

Greetings, Director General, he telepathed. Greetings from our people. We reach out in friendship. It is vital that we exchange views. Do you hear my thoughts? Will you respond?

I hear
, Tara managed to telepath. She had been a first-class psycher in her youth, but her powers had been slowly fading.
Who are you?
she managed to ask.

Who am I? I am your future. I am your salvation. I am here for you. And I am pleased to meet you. I sense your soul. It is strong. We need strong human souls. People with vision. You have been selected.

Who are you
, I ask again. Why are you here? What do you want? Tara gestured at the star holo and it vanished abruptly.

Oh, there is no need to worry about your battle plans
, the creature said.
I am not here to spy on you. I am here to explain to you that there is no need for a war.

Who are you? Get out of my sight! If you are too cowardly to reveal who you are, I have no desire to talk with you.

The creature smiled.
You can think of me as the Ambassador from Satan, he telepathed. And I come bearing gifts.

Gifts from Satan! No thank you!

There is no need for war. All those young ConFree immortals, soldiers all, doing their duty, dying for nothing – dying because you scorn my words. Do you have any idea how many will die? Is this the higher morality of God? I am surprised. We offer peace and you refuse.

Speak! Say it then. What is the message?

The Dark waved a hand lazily towards Tara. She instantly grew dizzy and almost fell. Hot dreams rushed through her mind. Wonderful dreams. Peace – and power. A new beginning. No more strife. Peace, through strength. Billions will adore her, will worship her. She raised her head haughtily. A vast crowd bowed down before her. They were hers to rule – forever!

Satan has chosen you to rule his new empire here in this universe. You will rule all humanity, for him, while he perfects the ideal society for his own people. The humans will follow you. You will be the first empress of all humanity, the first co-ruler of this entire galaxy. Empress Tara. You will have absolute power. No one will dare oppose you. We can see into your mind, we know you dream of this. Now it is yours. You have but to say yes, yes, yes, and it is done. Call off your war dogs. Cancel your foolish attack. Now.

Tara shook her head violently and the obscene dreams vanished.

"No! No! No!" she called out verbally – her throat was no longer paralyzed.

Do you really refuse this most generous offer? Think carefully. It will not be repeated. If you refuse, we will find someone else. And millions – no, billions – of humans will die horribly. Think again!

I refuse! Get out of my office!

The Dark reached out for her and seized her by the throat with his left hand, lifting her from the floor and cutting off her windpipe.

Foolish girl-child! I will rape you, as punishment for your insolence. I will strip you and rape you in your own office, to demonstrate Satan's power and your pitiful weakness. My seed will grow inside you and fight any attempts to remove it, and you will bear my child.
He snatched at her blouse with his right hand, ripping it off, exposing her breasts. A little golden cross was at her throat, dangling from a delicate golden chain. The Dark snarled and snatched at the cross, tearing it loose from the chain, then shrieked and slammed it to the floor as his palm sizzled and burnt, revealing a smoking cross-shaped welt. Enraged, he clawed frantically at Tara's waist, slamming her to the holo table, ripping off her uniform trousers, tearing them away with such violence that bloody tracks appeared on Tara's legs. Tara was helpless in his iron grip.

The door to Tara's office blew open with a violent bang and two A-suited Legion troopers charged in firing autovac. The vac bolts knocked both Tara and the Dark to the floor. Another bang sounded as the Dark teleported away, the air rushing in to where he had been. The two troopers hovered over Tara, concerned. More troopers rushed in, and a medic found her way to Tara and slowly revived her from the effects of the vac bolts.

Δ

I triggered open the door to our quarters. It slid open soundlessly. Honeyhair was sitting in the little den alcove, gazing thoughtfully at a d-screen. She turned her head to greet me, smiling in recognition. A smile just like sunshine, her lovely green eyes sparkling in delight. So much love, I thought. So much love. Then she got a good look at me. The smile vanished. She went pale, rising from the chair.