Interzeit: A Space Opera (4 page)

BOOK: Interzeit: A Space Opera
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The final g
rey mech arrives at the reactor. I
t fires point blank
into the shielding exterior. Large fracture
s
and cracks developed as the thick concrete is chipped away. Skyking shines in the
background,
it hurtles back towards the scene, slowly growing nearer and larger.

The grey mech keeps firing
until its gun clicks empty. It throws
the weapon
, smashing
it into the buildings
. Its shoulder plates ejec
t off of it, clattering away, and a
large rocket emerges out of the silo of its metal arm.

It emerges fully and points at the reactor.

“We’ve gotta get inside,” Nol grabs Clara, dragging her into the building, The rocket powers up and they frantically search the hotel lobby.
T
hey find a maintenance stair well, wasting no time, they sprint down as far as they can get.

Suddenly a metal arm rips through the grey mech, Clara stops dead
, watching the feed
in awe. Nol stops and watches as well.

Skyking punched clean through its torso, decimating the cockpit in the process.

“Ah thank you!” Clara screams, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Suddenly the missile fires, and explodes smashing into the reactor.

The fire rises, and then the reactor blows. Everything around it is incinerated, the feed cuts.

Nol grabs his sister, and they jump down the stair well. They scream as t
hey fall, the world around them shatters
and shakes in terrible force. The screaming is destroyed like everything else, and then t
here is nothing left
.
Nothing,
deadly burning
reigns over the entire city
.

Chapter 2

It plays and plays. Over and over the moment continues happening. In his sleep, in his thoughts, on his screens

Maxelus
stands triumphant, and then the rail
explodes
through him. It carries with it everything he had hoped for.

A dream of victory, a life he had planned for himself, peace, honor, and strength. He’s been refusing outside contact since the fateful moment. Locked away in his garden manor he broods and sulks. There have been several dozen knocks at his door. Well wishers, grievers, comrades, friends, family, and most enraging
ly,
officials.

Opportunistic slime, taking
the moment to show respect
in a
n
attempt to move up the hierarchy.
The

n
ever
let
a good crisis go
to waste” f
ilth.

He hears his uncle at his door once again. His large fist pound
s
the metal with the rhythmic 2
/
4 taps that he’s known all his life.

He’s turned him away thrice before, but now no longer. He relents, and opens the way. The metal doors slide open with a pneumatic wish.
He enters still wearing his courtly robe.
The r
ed and purple
gaudiness
, the colors of the Calatian family.

He turns his back on his uncle without a word, sitting on a bench in the garden. His uncle does not address h
im immediately, His uncle
can be many different things depending on what the situation calls for, this moment in particular
,
h
e
is timid and deft.

His uncle circles the garden, head down, hands behind his back.
Counting tiles or steps, contemplative and calm.
After five such circles
,
he slowly takes a seat beside his nephew. He draws for his words several times before they fina
l
l
y
arrive in the best order.

“Septis…” He begins, “Your brother was the most honorable man I have ever met. I loved him, as I know you loved him. His death is so tragic, I weep with you,
our
nation weeps with you.”

“And of
f
ather?”
Septis
asks,

“Your father is strong, a man of steel will and resolve. But he is still human at his core
,
as we all are. He carries on
,
as is his duty, but I know him as you know him. He hides now, hides away behind those steel walls, hiding that grieving father from the world.

His
is the
most painful role of any of
us
,
he must be strong for the
whole
world
. The man must suffer alone so the
cabinet
may hold strong.”

“Our rule has
been
benign Paizo, has it not? Why would the terrestrials plot such crude treachery on us?”

“Humanity fears what it does not understand. It wishes to hide the truth we represent, or destroy it if
they can
.

“And shall we let them steal away the global cabinet from us?” Septis asks

“The issue becomes more complicated by the hour.” His uncle says, “The courts were in deep deliberation. The rule was clear as the Martian Federation puts forth, however, many under our loyalty argued that it was a deliberate maneuver, a trap from the beginning.”

Septis squeezes his fi
s
t
, his translucent skin show the white/gray of his knuckle bones.

“They will see the truth in this, I have faith.”

“I am inclined to believe you Prince, but I bring news that darkens the future, and clouds our vision.”

Septis jumps to his feet, his sheer red cloak ripples and flows behind him. He begins pacing in a manner not dissimilar to his uncle.

“What news do you bring dear Uncle?” He says

“Early in the last solar day
, there was a terrorist atta
ck in Eurasia. Three mechs
hit the city by surprise. Millions were killed when a fusion reactor was detonated during the ensuing
attack
.”

Septis
pauses
, his face
scrunches in remorse, “What times are these Paizo?”

“It gets worse I’m afraid,” Paizo says, “The accusation of blame has fallen on our shoulders. Many believe we have retaliated for the mistreatment in the games.”

“Preposterous!” Septis yells, “Father would never authorize such a foolish deed.”

“Quite right Septis,” He agrees, “I’ve been spending the entire morning interrogating our high command and covert military corps, not a trace of dissent or terrorism among any of them.”

“What
proof have
they of this heinous crime?”

“None as I know, but the passions of Earth burn strong, they demand justice.”

“What of the Martians? Are they heading the investigation, who leads with the cabinet in flux?”

“It is early still,” Paizo soothes, “As you say, things are in flux. In this chaos perhaps there is opportunity.”

“There is wisdom in your words Paizo.” The prince remarks, “Is the Mark II operational?”

“Soon, but it is not ready. We must avoid confrontation if possible, for now we must show the people, the house of Calatian can lead.”

“Agreed,” Septis says, “I will travel to Earth, my father will be too busy with the Cabinet to be of much use. I will aid the Earthlings, there will be justice,
I
can feel it burning in my chest. Assemble my retinue, and prepare
the Nazer for departure.”

“My lord,” Paizo bows as the Prince exits the garden.

Prince Septis withdraws to his inner chambers. He adorns his red
flexsuit,
it adjusts to his body in its pre-programmed way, and its status diagnostics complete. Over it he throws his black cloak, trimmed in gold on the edges.

There is one last thing he must do before he can depart. Something he has been avoiding since that fateful moment. It plays again involuntarily. The glowing beam sword held high, the betrayal, the explosion.

Maxelus’s quarters are the same as they were when he departed. An obsessive reader, holo units, and old books lay strewn across the parlor chamber in a chaotic brilliance. Several still open, already deeply scavenged. Knowledge hard won and lost.

In his bedroom,
Septis
opens his wardrobe. It is there as
Maxelus
left it. The golden wreath, a circlet of leaves crafted from a special alloy of gold and iridium. It shines with a base of gold, but refracts and bends to
every known color given light.

Septis
places the circlet on his head. It is heavy. There can be no turning back now, he has accepted the role. First son, prince, and heir, he is now charged with his people, as they are with him. The two are now intertwined, a permanent union, until death do come.


The prince and his entourage drift into low orbit aboard the solar cruiser Nazer.
One of a rough dozen in its kind, it resembles the Tetraphaedrome in form and function, although a mere frac
tion of its size.
Unusual and
spikey
, it is formed of
two sleek shiny tetrahedrons
,
merged together into a star pattern.

The prince reviews the briefing prepared by Paizo’s agents. At solar hour 16:35 the mechs were spotted emerging from the
Bosphorus by security drones. Automated air defense reacted shortly after they entered the city, with limited success. The civilian gendarme evacuated the surrounding area, and an estimated 34% of the main core of Turiazon.

The Lunar Protectorate launched the orbital security fleet at 16:40 sh. Skyking IV was lau
nched ahead of the main fleet as expected. Based on early estimates from the Protectorate’s engineering corp, Skyking was at 40% operational capacity. Little is known about its state during the launch. It arrived at 16:46 and engaged the hostile targets.

The main fusion reactor for the region was detonated at 16:59, leveling most of the region, and any remaining population.

Pilot Naraku Wakahisa is confirmed dead, and
the
Skyking
has also been destroyed in the process. Early causality estimates range from 5-10 million, with up to 8 million dead.

The Eurasian council arrived at the planetary cabinet at 20:32 sh. Talks are presumed ongoing, representatives from the Lunar Protectorate and Federated Colonies of Mars have been spotted within the cabinet, their arrival and activities still not well documented.

Septis drops the report, letting it dissolve into light and pixels. He leaves his garden and walks to the bridge contemplating. No mention of their implication yet, perhaps Paizo’s news had been premature, either that or the report was out of date. All in all
,
it
was
a miserable series of events,
draining,
he tried to keep his
focus on the matter at hand.

Along with the crew are his two loyal comrades, t
he captain of his guard,
Polystratus
, and Nazer captain
,
Xuna. The two mind their separate ends of the bridge, silent aside from the monitoring noises of the high sensor machines.

The bright blue and green
planet fills the observation window. It hangs serenely there, floating in the soft pull of gravity’s web. All objects of mass,
like objects of life, are linked
, pulling and pushing, falling together.

First they are hailed by the Lunar Protectorate. The operators seem nervous and on edge. Their tone and bluntne
ss do not hide their fear well. Fear of
what a
Kuipterra
n
cruise
r
like this
might mean, if stationed on Earth
.

Septis
assured them that this was a peacekeeping mission, although by their reactions
,
they were less than convinced. Regardless
,
they had no legal means to turn them away, so they passed through unmolested.

Septis’s body grows heavy as the ship starts to break through the lower atmosphere. His suit engages to compensate for his
thin
low gravity frame. It tightens against his arms and legs, but soon the feel
ing of heavy weight dissipates. T
he
sense
in his body returns
as light and nimble as before.

Polystratus
insisted
on bringing in a security detail. Septis
didn’t
blame him, after the death of Maxelus, the very bloodline of
Kuipterra
was in limbo, but Septis
kept
things to a minimum against his wishes
.

The terrestrials were afraid of what might be coming next. The human animal in panic will resort to a mob mentality, strong leaders, and bold action. The hysteria of crisis could set the tensions on fire, break the peace, and plunge everything into death and warfare.

Septis would have to be careful
, the full guard might look too aggressive,
giving
the appearance
he was there to take over the conference
. The locust attitude of the threatened terrestrials was dangerous to everyone, including themselves.

Polystratus
relented, but made sure they were both well-armed.

The ship was skimming through the clouds, headed for the Earth capital, and the region that hosted the global cabinet. Carpentaria was the seat of the cabinet, and host to all manner of senates, forums, and other international governing bodies.

They we
re hailed by the Earth Defense Force
as they approached the city proper. They gave them a similar talking to, and continued towards
their destination
. By now, in the intelligence world it would be no secret that he was arriving. Thin
gs
were discovered
quick
on Earth,
it was only their dissemination that was slow
.

Some news is like a fresh killed animal, best immediately, fresh. Other news can be used as leverage, material in a war of ideas, precious ammo for the reserves.

They came in over the city. Pristine white towers of all kinds of
a
berrant shapes stretched up into the sky. Gr
owing and reaching for the sun
and heaven above, these twisting and gnarled things shined alabaster white in the afternoon sun.

BOOK: Interzeit: A Space Opera
11.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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