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BOOK: George Zebrowski
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The lines began to roll forward. Each figure wore a suit of black armor, a pulse-weapon backpack, a clear polarizing helmet, and a gravitational jump unit.

The front line surged forward in jumps of a hundred meters.

Gorgias searched the hills beyond for sign of his support ships, but the darkness was impenetrable.

He dropped his gaze to the starships and watched as three heavy cannon emerged from the north pole of each globe.

Behind the first line of soldiers, the second wave started down the slope.

“General Crusus — bring up your ships!”

“Ships? Stored forces have no ships, only heavy lasers.…”

“What?”

“I don’t think we’ll need more if the ships are disabled.”

“Open fire!” Gorgias shouted, shaken. He peered into the darkness behind his force, trying to see the heavy units.

Six beams lashed out at the Federation ships from the blackness of the high ground, six spears suddenly pinning the enemy ships to the ground.

The third and fourth assault lines were coming down the slope. The first wave was leaping across level grassland. Half the division was in motion now, and still Kurbi’s ships had not opened fire. All the locks were still open and unprotected. What was he waiting for?

The six lasers poured energy into the Federation hulls, one beam for each hull and one for each cannon. The hulls would be breached at any moment. Gorgias felt a moment of shame inside his screen; he was safe, protected from even the sound of the coming battle.

Kurbi’s lasers came to life, sweeping across the advancing army toward the Herculean heavy lasers.

The cannon on the middle starship exploded into a cluster of fireflies, and faded. The two remaining cannon were pumping energy into the hills, but there were at least six Herculean lasers on the high ground, too many for Kurbi to cover; he would not be able to destroy all of them.

The grass was on fire around the wounded ship. Black smoke rose into the night.

“Commander, can they send troops out against us?”

“I don’t think so,” Gorgias said. “Not enough to put against your force.”

The field is mine
, he thought,
the first victory on the road to rebirth
.

He turned around inside the screen and saw Myraa watching him through the window. She pointed and he turned around to see the middle ship rise above the battlefield.

“General Crusus — keep moving up. Keep hitting those hulls until they give way. Take no prisoners.”

“You did not tell me that they could lift. You weren’t clear …”

“It doesn’t matter — concentrate your beams and track. We have enough power to vaporize these vessels.”

“How many ships are feeding power into our weapons?” Crusus asked.

“One Whisper Ship. It’s more than enough.”
It draws strength from the suns of home
.

“Whisper Ship … you have a Whisper Ship?” The General sounded relieved. “Still, the hand weapons will have to be recharged. We’ll have to retreat if we can’t take the ships.…”

“Obey my orders! Move forward with your entire force now!”

The front lines swarmed around the globes. The locks closed. The beams locked on the hulls and held. The damaged warship hovered over its two companions. The remaining assault waves reached positions behind the vanguard and waited helplessly for the hulls to be breached.

What was Kurbi doing? His hulls could not last much longer. It was not likely that he was trying to save lives. It had to be some kind of mistake, perhaps a disagreement in the command structure. In a few minutes Kurbi would have to surrender or be destroyed.

I have commanded well.

“Be prepared if they lift,” Gorgias said. The third ship hovered.

Afterward he would kill all the Earthborn to bolster the morale of his army. They would need it after learning about the war’s outcome.

My army
, he thought. The words conjured up a future of fellowship. Myraa’s World was secured. It was a start, a small payment toward what was rightfully his.

The Empire would live again.

The beams were not concentrating on the hovering ship. Slowly, he knew, the hulls were weakening, but the floodlights continued to bathe the field without a flicker.

He blinked —

— and found himself staring into the gray of the siege canopy.

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Go to Contents
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XIII. The Field of Death

“She sees the hand of death made bare,

The ravelled riddle of the skies,

The faces faded that were fair,

The mouths made speechless that were wise,

The hollow eyes and dusty hair …”

— Swinburne,
Cleopatra

FRESH AIR RUSHED IN around him as Gorgias turned off his screen. He took a deep breath.

“General Crusus!” he shouted into the communicator. “Report what is happening — I’m cut off from you visually.”

A thunder sound erupted from the communicator.

“You didn’t tell me they had another ship,” Crusus said. “It’s just appeared and is moving for a central position over the field.…”

“Concentrate all your fire on it!”

“It’s a heavy vessel — twice the size of those on the ground. Just a moment. Our beams are licking at it now,” Crusus said.

Suddenly Gorgias realized that Kurbi didn’t want him to see the Federation defeat.

“The big ship is holding its position,” Crusus said. “I’ve never seen a vessel like it. How long have we been stored?”

Gorgias did not answer.

“When will you put the Whisper Ship into the air?” Crusus asked. “We may need its support.”

“Later,” Gorgias answered.

“The ship is firing at our lasers …I’ve never seen such massive beams! They’ve got two for each of our positions.…” Crusus’s voice died away suddenly.

“General — what’s happening?”

“Our beams are weakening. They’re running out of power. We’ve been cut off from our transmission source.… There, our lasers are dead, vaporized without their screens. Our force is without cover now. The only power we’ve left is what the soldiers have in their pulse packs.”

“Fire up at the big ship!”

“With what, Commander?”

“You have ten thousand hand weapons.”

“You must be mad.”

The siege canopy winked off. Gorgias saw the distant fires where his ground lasers had stood. Below him, the army was firing up at the big ship, with no visible effect. One by one the small beams began to go out as their packs ran out of energy.

“We have nowhere to fall back to,” Crusus said.

Gorgias wished that he could reach out with his will and crush the big ship.

The last of the individual lasers died. The army began to retreat, a huge black spider with a million legs.

“Materialize more artillery,” Crusus said calmly.

“What do you mean?”

“There should be more. How many times did the cylinder cycle?”

Gorgias caught his breath suddenly. “Why — once!”

“Cycle it again. There must be more equipment. I did not have time to take inventory.… How long has it been?”

Gorgias touched the control and the yellow beam reached out again to the high ground. He dropped his binoculars over his eyes and saw three more heavy lasers, complete with crews, appear on the slopes, spaced widely as the beam swept from left to right.

The beams opened up on the big ship. The air crackled with energy. The big ship responded. Gorgias watched its lances bite into the screens of the laser cannon, but the Herculean installations continued to hurl energy without pause. There might be enough time to destroy the large globe.

The canopy went up again.

“We’re without power again!” Crusus shouted, his voice full of dismay. “They’re gone,” he said, “our remaining lasers are gone. Isn’t anyone protecting our sources?”

The canopy disappeared.

The big ship was sweeping across the troops with a wide beam, felling them as if with a huge scythe.

Gorgias pressed the controls on the tripod. The carrier beam stabbed into the dark hills and made its sweep, but the distant region of smoke and scorched ground remained without new equipment as the beam died.

The wide beam from the big ship coursed into the center of the massed men where the soldiers were pressed together, unable to move.

“There’s nothing we can do!” Crusus shouted. “Where is your ship? Surely we are part of some larger operation.…”

Gorgias searched the high ground. Somewhere among the glowing remains of the heavy lasers, Crusus was still alive.

Again and again the deadly beam cut through the troops below, leaving clumps of ash and metal as the Herculean body armor failed. Gorgias realized suddenly that the burning would not stop until the last Herculean was dead. He
felt
the hatred that ruled the laser. Every few seconds the communicator picked up a cry of agony over the sizzling sound of the beam. The odor of ionization and burnt flesh reached him. He turned on his screen and sat down on the grass, grateful for the sudden silence. It would be useless to try to reach the Whisper Ship; as soon as he moved, the canopy would go up.

The large beam went out, its job unfinished.

“I’m sorry, Gorgias,” Kurbi said from the link. “I couldn’t find your subspace channel. It was a fire-at-will order and the officer in charge … At least we’ve stopped it. Those responsible will be punished. There was nothing I could do. Gorgias?”

“You’re a weakling and a coward, Kurbi. Earth sent you to preach to me, to distract me.” He broke the link, feeling his face become a drawn mask as he wrapped himself in his fears.

“He won’t answer,” Kurbi said as he looked at the screen. Gorgias sat on the hill, staring at him. The illumination played strangely through the Herculean’s screen.

“I’m going to court-martial that entire ship.” He turned his chair around to face Poincaré. “You brought that ship,” he said to the standing man. “You insisted on bringing it. My men were briefed in restraint. Who are they on that ship — a special death squad?”

Julian shook his head. “It won’t get you anything, Raf, believe me. You’d have to work up public and judicial sympathy for a fully armed Herculean division.”

“I doubt they knew what Gorgias was getting them into.”

“That’s incredible and you know it. How could they not have known?”

Kurbi stood up. “You don’t care either.”

“No one will care — they’ll cheer.”

“There’s something not quite right about this.”

“I do care, Raf. But what you and I think won’t matter. It’s gone too far.”

Kurbi turned back to the screen and stared at the smoking battlefield. The third ship had landed again. All the locks were open and men were coming out to take prisoners and care for the wounded. The big ship was not in sight.

“What mercy do you think he would have shown us?” Poincaré asked.

“You and I know that he could not have won,” Kurbi said through clenched teeth.
He would have shown no mercy
, a small voice whispered inside him.

“Hindsight — aren’t you surprised by what he sent against us? If I had not brought the big ship —”

“Their weapons seemed archaic.…” Kurbi faced Poincaré again. “I’m still in command. I want to see the commander of that ship.”

Julian was silent for a moment. “As you wish, but it won’t do any good now.”

I’ve been duped
, Kurbi thought,
Gorgias was right
.

The view showed the hill again. Gorgias still sat inside his bubble. Poincaré came up and touched the controls. The hill disappeared under the inverted bowl of the siege canopy.

“Just so we don’t have to chase him and his ship all over the galaxy,” he said.

“It might be better to surrender now,” Kurbi said into the subspace link.

“You still haven’t got me,” the Herculean replied quietly.

And for a moment Kurbi hoped that they would never get him.

Captain Orin Kik of the
Homestar
came into the control room and stood at attention.

Kurbi rose and stepped closer, noticing that they were of equal height.

“Why the massacre?”

“That was not my impression, sir.”

Kurbi swallowed and looked at the floor. Then he looked directly at the young officer and said: “You disobeyed the order to cease fire!”

“We received no such order. The officers on my bridge will confirm this — six of them, sir.”

“It was clearly given!”

“The fire-at-will was the last order we received, sir.”

“Were you in control of your men?”

“Yes, I was, sir.”

“Surely you could see that the Herculeans couldn’t win against you, that it was senseless to keep firing after their heavy artillery was gone. You could have stood off and done nothing.”

“It was a large force — no telling what they could throw against us. It was reasonable to suppose that such a force was well supported.”

Failure of communications, Kurbi thought. It would be put down as such, no matter what the truth. No one had told the captain that Gorgias’s division was not backed up adequately. It would have been unreasonable for him to have assumed such a thing.

“Do you have any idea, Captain Kik, who they were?”

“Herculean brigands, sir. Everyone knew that before we came out here. They deserved what they got.”

“They were Herculean infantry! Soldiers like yourself.”

“How is that possible, sir?”

“Captain, you are under arrest.”

The youthful, thin-lipped face showed no surprise. “I did not receive any order to cease fire,” it recited. “I continued as seemed necessary under the previous fire-at-will command, in anticipation of a sudden escalation in the enemy’s operation. The special circumstances which you allude to were not made clear to me or to any of my officers.”

I should not have agreed to let Julian bring the ship.

“It is your business to hear orders.”

“I heard all orders.”

There was no point in continuing the conversation.

“Under arrest, dismissed.”

When the captain had gone, Kurbi sat down. Poincaré came in and Kurbi swiveled the chair around. “I know it’s only a token arrest, Julian, but damn it — why did you bring that ship!”

BOOK: George Zebrowski
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