Soul at War (9 page)

"It was once a military base you see,
one of the frontier outposts," Remarked the pilot as he steered us
down towards a landing field. "Quite impressive eh?" Most of the
unit had drifted off; only Phillips and me were still
awake.

"Yeah," Was all I could
muster.

The ground spun beneath us as the
anti-grav pads discharged steadily. There was the stench of ozone
associated with such technology and it seemed to waft in through a
leak in one of the hatches. Eventually we settled down onto the
landing pad and the hatch hissed open. Cool morning air smothered
me as I pulled myself out of the seat and stepped down onto the
gantry with a clank. Phillips was waking the others as I greeted a
Medic coming towards me.

"Does that leg need treatment?" He
asked. I just shook my head and leaned against the grab rail. We
were on a raised dais, twenty metres above ground level. Gurneys
were being wheeled down towards the ship, Techs and Mechs swarmed
over the craft with tools and diagnosis devices. I took a deep
breath and stepped forward into the sun.

"You must be Lieutenant Shap," said a
voice. I opened my eyes. Stood facing me was a tall, thin man with
graying hair dressed in a pale blue suit. He had dull brown eyes
beneath thick-rimmed spectacles.

"I am. And you are?"

"Eric. Eric Titus. I'm the Pastor here
in Dothon." He shook my hand but I don't remember raising mine, the
fatigue was that intense.

That was the last thing I
remembered.

*

When I woke I found myself led in a
bed so soft I almost forgot where I was. I could so easily have
been back on earth in Canada, waking up to the birds and the
sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Then as I regained a
firmer grip on reality, I realised that it wasn't birds singing -
it was the gentle music of morning hymns being sung out in the
gardens.

"You are awake?" A voice asked. I
looked around the sunlit chamber and found a young woman perched on
a stool by the door.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Dothon University medical wing. You
collapsed upon arrival." The girl stood and walked over to me. She
was nothing but a fuzzy shape, my eyes bleary and sore. Then as she
leaned over I could make out short brown hair and a warm smile. "My
name is Rebecca. You must be John.”

I tried to sit up and felt the sting
of the wound on my thigh, the stiffness of the muscles causing a
mild cramp. Eventually she helped me to sit up and she passed me a
thick gooey red mixture in a mug.

"It's a pain killer and an
anti-inflammatory. Drink it all." I choked it down with a mouthful
of water, coughed up a little and she passed me a towel.

"The others?" I asked.

"In separate rooms along this hall.
The two deceased members of your party are in the Chapel of
rest."

"Thank-you."

"No need to thank me, Lieutenant. We
were glad to help. We just wish it could have been under better
circumstances."

"I'd love to know what's going on," I
said, looking out of the window but could see nothing. "My rig, is
it here?" Rebecca went over to a cupboard and lifted it off a peg,
then brought it over to me. In one of the pouches was a photograph,
which reminded me for the first time in several days the reason I'd
come here in the first place. I held it up for Rebecca to
see.

"You don't know a David St. John
matching this photo do you?" She looked intently at it, and then
frowned.

"Sorry, I don't."

"Well, it was a long shot I
suppose."

"Who is he?" she asked.

"A son of a friend. I've been told he
was posted here, to one of the missions in the Zion
system."

"I'm sorry, no." She walked over to
the window and pushed one of the panes open a little. "Do you feel
strong enough for a walk?" I slid out from under the quilt, let my
good leg find footing first, and then dragged out the other. Using
the bedstead for support I pulled myself upright.

“Where are we going?”

“Morning service of
course.”

“But I’m not...”

“I know.”

We walked a fair distance to the
Church, a good mile at least. I had a walking stick for support but
the stiffness was resilient and refused to ease even as I sat down
on one of the pews of the great building. It was enormous in size,
enough to accommodate the entire city, but humble enough not to
risk becoming more important than the message it preached. Unlike
most Earth churches there were no elaborate decorations or gold
trinkets - just a wooden cross at the front and a wooden altar to
preach from. Along the walls were speakers to amplify the sermon to
nearly two hundred and sixty members of the congregation, as well
as any stood outside in the gardens.

I didn't hear much of the sermon. I
was bored within a few minutes and it reminded me of all the times
my brother had attempted to convert me through his vid links and
books. Even after all this death I still wasn't ready to throw in
my lot with the JC crowd.

Eric led from the front, giving me a
grin when he saw me, and had pointed out our arrival in Dothon and
the condition of my unit. Then I realised that something had been
missing from my belongings - the bag of dog tags. Eric ended the
service by reading out every last one, ARC and comrade alike, then
called for prayers for the fallen. I held back the tears a little;
the dead didn't need tears wasting on them. They were dead and that
was a much better place now. It was us that needed the sorrow - we
had more hardships ahead.

When he'd finished we walked back out
into the sunlight, the late morning beginning to warm up as the sun
rose overhead. People began to make their way towards jobs or
homes, laughing and chatting away to each other. Not one of them
seemed to realise that the enemy was on their doorstep.

"They don't know why we're here - do
they?" I asked Rebecca once we were far enough away.

"We can't risk panic. We've known for
a long time the progress of ARC forces in Zion and the Commander
has kept it quiet so as not to startle them. Don't forget, they are
just humble people who don't know much about the enemy."

"And how did you come to know about
them?" She laughed.

"John, I'm the Commander's
daughter."

*

Had I not been told, the family
resemblance would have struck me first. Commander Frakes was a
strong oppressive figure, a poster boy for the recruitment ads on
Mars but under it all was still the gentle, loving eyes of his
daughter. They shared common facial geography, an open face, a kind
hearted face. The only difference here was that Commander Frakes
had been scarred beneath the surface by countless atrocities and
the poison of such memory was leaking into his flesh.

The remaining members of the unit were
gathered in a large open plan briefing room encased in a dome of
safety glass. At the end of an oval table sat Frakes flanked by two
armoured bodyguards, to his left was Eric Titus and at the back of
the room were a line of armed troops. We sat around the table in no
particular order, except Lieutenant Burns and Sergeant Phillips who
sat nearest to Frakes. Burns took him through the events that
followed the attack on the Midian and he seemed to listen intently,
nodding when appropriate. He asked few questions while Titus
fidgeted every time ARC was mentioned.

"Which brings me to thank you for your
help at the outpost," Burns began to finish. "It would have been
our last stand if you hadn't intervened." Frakes raised a hand and
shook his head. For some reason I was reminded of a Politician back
on Earth, playing down a baby kiss or a tax reduction. Frakes
seemed to be secretly priding himself.

"No, it is I that thank you. Without
the valuable information your team provided, we would never have
known the strength of the enemy forces without risking the lives of
my scout teams. The way I see it, God has led you to this place for
reasons beyond our understanding, but reasons I am sure will be
revealed in good time."

"Sir, I would like to examine the city
schematics if I may. I would like to begin preparations to defend
Dothon until the arrival of the Avalon. We must hurry, we have
little..." Eyes began to dart between eyes. "Is there a problem?"
Burns asked.

"We received a distorted message from
one of our sub-space relays. The Avalon was destroyed over three
days ago," said Frakes. Burns looked to Phillips who could only
shrug.

"How reliable is that relay? If Earth
has been receiving false messages for weeks, could this be
another?"

"With respect, Lieutenant, in either
circumstance the Avalon will not be arriving on time. If it is a
false claim then I'm sure the ARC forces would make sure that it
became true by any means necessary."

"Then I assume a distress
message..."

"One was drafted and sent over a week
ago. We can only assume it was intercepted." Frakes leaned forward
and his face lost its political edge. "We have seen the ships
landing. We have seen them constructing their bases. We have seen
them hunt down and capture our people who stray out of our range.
They are returned to us on carts made of wood, burning alive as
they hurtle down the hill towards our city walls. Their heads are
cleaved from their bodies, their children pinned to the corpse. For
weeks now we have watched and sent out message after message after
message in the hope that we would be spared such a fate. Every day
and every night the people are praying. We have faith that we will
be saved from ARC, but at this point I am afraid that my faith is
beginning to fail." Defeated, he slumped back in his chair. "But if
I am to die, then I shall take up my cross and follow Christ as he
asks." I almost suggested negotiations, but I imagined they would
be met by the same fate.

"Then all the more reason to begin
preparations to defend the city. It will be another five days
before a team is dispatched to investigate, we must hold
out."

"Lieutenant, my security team is made
up of no more than one hundred God fearing men and the population
of Dothon will not take up arms regardless of the consequences.
They simply don't have the heart to take life."

"Regardless, sir. We must repel at all
costs." Frakes looked weary, forlorn in his tidy
uniform.

"I see no point." Burns shot to his
feet and the line of troopers surged forward. I joined him, cutting
in before he could lose control.

"God-damn it man, you would sooner put
your faith in a miracle?” I shouted, slamming a fist into the
table. “Are you saying you will throw down your weapons and let
them take your women, your children, hoping some silent entity in
the sky is going to save you? Let me tell you this – I’ve been in
towns and cities just like this one, who refused help and relied on
this 'god' and I watched all of them burn to the sounds of babies
and children crying out for their mums and dads. Is this what you
want?”

"He who lives by the sword shall die
by it," said Titus, defeated.

"Inaction is the greatest sin here. In
five days a ship of hardened troopers shall arrive to support us.
Defend the city and at least we might have a chance." He motioned
to Phillips who rose to his feet, followed by the rest of us. "Will
you supply us with the schematics, Commander?" Frakes just looked
at his clasped hands. Eventually his eyes moved up from
them.

"I will see that you get
them."

"In the meantime my unit shall go to
where they are needed, we are at your disposal." We began to leave,
but Titus grabbed my arm on the way out and gave me the same look
he'd given me on the landing pad – disgust.

"You will have to give an account for
all your deeds, Lieutenant. This day and all the others to
come.”

“Maybe. How will you defend a life
spent in cowardice, scared of losing your 'reward' in heaven at the
expense of the lives of people you're supposed to be
protecting?”

“You don't understand...” he said,
angry and furious.

“You see, Frakes, I do. More than you
know. Tell me this, would you still follow this god of yours if
there was nothing in it for you – no heaven, no reward?”

Frakes was silent. “I thought not.” I
said and walked away.

CHAPTER 8

The view from the outer wall was as
impressive as Nineveh's must have been. Its construction had
allowed a walkway six men wide to encompass the entire city,
separated every hundred metres by a rampart where in the frontier
days massive artillery pieces would have been mounted. Now all that
was left was a collection of rusting boltholes and fractured
concrete where the great recoil dampeners had been fixed into
place.

"It's a shame we don't have a couple
of those," Green whispered as Burns surveyed the area, comparing it
with the wad of schematics in his hands.

"Somehow I don't think it would do
much good," Walker replied. Already Brand seemed to be eying up
spots for her sniper's nest while Wulfgar looked on in silence.
Tekoa could be seen down amongst the people, moving in between the
farms and the modest housing, making notes on a paper
pad.