True Believers (26 page)

She watched her body slump to the ground. Desperate fingers recoiled from him, as her body withered into death's surrender.

Sorinsen kicked her, rolling her lifeless form over for all to witness. To the naked eye Rachel was dead. He released the trigger on the remote control and threw it on his desk.

“Sonovabitch.”

“That was my thought too,” Bubba said quietly. He paused then zoomed in on the doorway. “How odd.”

“What is?”

“Jacob Denman. He has shut down the communications feed to the Alturian starship.”

They watched in silence as Denman ordered the standing guard out. Sorinsen hadn't noticed. He was too busy yelling at the monitor when it snapped to black.

“What the hell is going on?” Sorinsen wheezed out. “Get them back. We aren't finished!”

Denman shoved Sorinsen to one side and looked down at Rachel. He fell to one knee and lifted her lifeless arm. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he ripped the god-killer off her neck. He stroked her face tenderly, mumbling something indiscernible.

Denman got up with the device in the palm of his hand and raised it toward the old man. It lit into flames, forcing Sorinsen to jerk back in shock.

The flames licked the palm of Denman's hand, crisping it to char. Denman didn't react to the seared flesh. He folded the blackened hand around the god-killer and crushed it to a flattened mass. “You are quite finished, General.”

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Jacob?”

Denman approached him like an executioner. “No mere man can kill a god. Not and get away with it.” He grabbed the old man by the throat. “A thousand deaths couldn't repay what you have done here today, so this will be slow and pleasant—for me.”

Sorinsen struggled. He tried to scream, but only a gurgling sound escaped him.

“Rachel,” Bubba interrupted.

“Not now, Bubba.”

“But Rachel, the Alturians.”

“Quiet!”

Denman pinched his fingers around Sorinsen's throat, tightening his grip until every little bone snapped under the pressure. Sorinsen didn't fight long.

Jacob Denman's body sparked and popped with hundreds of tiny lightning strikes. The radiation in the room grew exponentially, no longer safe for human life.

The general convulsed nonstop, his bowels voiding as death took over. Tiny plumes of smoke seeped from under Denman's fingers, tightly gripped around the old man's throat. Denman tossed the limp body to the ground. The imprint of his fingers left char marks on Sorinsen's skin, and where he squeezed the tightest, the flesh burnt all the way to the bone.

Jacob Denman returned to Rachel and knelt over her body. A look of anguish washed over him, and he hid his face with his hands.

“Warning, Mr. Denman, Alturian forces are bombarding our shields. Personnel from the upper floors are being evacuated to lower levels. Lock-down is now in progress. Please proceed to your assigned secure location.”

Denman wiped his eyes but didn't respond to the warning, ignoring Bubba entirely.
“Ekdi'kesis,”
he whispered, then kissed Rachel on the forehead. He got up and strode out a secret passageway behind the media wall. His work was done.

Rachel threw herself against Bubba's housing. “Apa, no! I'm still here. Don't leave me!”

Jessit stared up at the blackened monitor. In his mind he could still see Rachel's crumpled body. Her once golden-brown skin turned pale as milk.

Time stopped, and all sound vanished.
What is happening?
Jessit rubbed his ears with the palms of his hands, but to no avail. The air thinned, and his chest heaved trying to suck in what air was left.

Men scrambled to their consoles, desperate for answers. Eklan seemed to be shouting orders, but he was as soundless as everyone else. The bridge collapsed into chaos.

Emergency lighting lit the bay and he felt the vibration of the engineers' feet as they rousted from board to board trying to reroute circuits. Senit grabbed him by the shoulders in a desperate attempt to lead him away. He was yelling…something.

Jessit could only stare dumbly. He put his hand on Senit's shoulder, grateful for the help, when something punched him into an explosion of noise. He didn't have time to react, to think, to breathe. His vision narrowed to tiny pinpoints, and he fell back to the floor, gasping for air. Both his hearts seized at once, as if someone had wrenched them out of his chest.

The assault was momentary. Something deep inside him took over, repairing the damage, returning control.

Senit helped him to his feet, but he felt physically crippled. It took all his will to stand.

Rachel.
This couldn't be happening. He should have protected her. He should have saved her. It was like watching sand fall between his fingers. Jessit couldn’t hold on to the one creature who meant more to him than life itself.

Jessit's hands doubled into fists, even while he fought back the grief welling up inside him. His first instinct was for revenge. Sorinsen didn't just kill a god. He killed the woman he loved. And for that, the man would die a slow and painful death.

Jessit had never felt so powerless in all his life. His authority revoked, he was servant to whatever Eklan commanded. Did it matter? Rachel was gone.

Harliss, his second in command and now Eklan's, was the only one bold enough to make any demands.

“Do something!” Harliss cried to Eklan. “Do something before it's too late.”

It was too late. The last thing they saw was Rachel lying in a broken heap. She looked dead; Jessit was sure of it. Nothing else had ever pierced him so savagely. His need for vengeance was the only thing keeping him alive.

The humans had murdered a god in front of them. The ultimate blasphemy. Sorinsen, the fool, had condemned his planet to death. Alturis could have only one reply.

Jessit turned toward Eklan. He had no rights here, no privilege. But he had only one wish.

Do something, Natol.

The young commander stared at Jessit for what seemed like hours before he cut away and turned his eyes to the blackened monitor.

His voice was so low he had to repeat himself. Banging his fist against the console in front of his chair, the words rumbled from his gut. “Kill them! Kill them all. Order all ships to fire at will.”

Damn it, man! Not that.

Jessit had to be careful. Countermanding Eklan now would only result in his removal from the bridge.

Hitting Earth indiscriminately was fruitless. The new commander acted out of anger, and as much as Jessit agreed, they had to retaliate carefully. They were far from home with a limited arsenal.

“Commander.” Jessit edged closer to Eklan. “The com-web absorbs our energy streams, and we have little to spare.” He glanced down at the energy monitoring station, hoping his expression would make the younger man understand.

Jessit could barely stand. His legs wobbled beneath him, but he'd nail his feet to the floor rather than appear weak now.

Eklan's jaw stiffened, his demeanor turning bristly and taut. He opened his mouth to speak when the Com operator interrupted.

“Signal from Earth, sir.”

“What's the message?” Eklan loomed over the operator's station.

“It's not an actual message, sir. They're coordinates—in the middle of an ocean.”

“Who sent the signal?”

“No identification, sir. But it came directly from the compound where the Lady…” The crewman's voice melted away. He couldn't speak the words.

Jessit stumbled over to the console, his eyes focused on the coordinates they'd been given. “The Pacific Ocean,” he muttered.

“What's out there?” Eklan asked.

Jessit shook his head, crinkling his brow as he tried to sort out the cryptic transmission.

“Nothing.”

Eklan furrowed his brow. “They're toying with us. A trap perhaps. Why send such coordinates?”

Jessit studied the screen, pushing away the board operator from his seat. He dropped into the chair, his fingers whirring over controls with practiced familiarity. He called up other maps and what few schematics they had managed to glean from the com-web's matrix before it went active.

“Nothing. Nothing that I know of.”
Was it possible someone was giving them a way in?
He called up the energy outputs from the com-web. It fluctuated wildly.

Jessit shook his head, not willing to believe they still had an ally on the surface. “I think I know why someone is sending us there. There are no landmasses, no military installations—no people. It's the likeliest location for minimal shielding.” He thumped his finger on the console's map. Jessit looked up at Eklan and together they seemed to realize the same thing at once.

“Tactical!”

Both men yelled it out at once.

Eklan scowled at Jessit with open hostility. Jessit grit his teeth, hoping the young commander realized his outburst came from habit and not insolence.

“Online, sir. Scanning the area for shield weakness.”

Bridge activity seemed to slow to a single moment in time. Everyone held a collective breath waiting for Tactical's analysis.

“Shield integrity is unreliable at that specific location, sir. The com-web is having a harder time maintaining the bubble at those coordinates.”

“Tell the ships to fan out. Concentrate on the weaker areas of the shield. If they find an opening, no matter how small, tell them to plow through.”

The Tactical crew chief grimaced. “And if it's a trap?”

“Then we take as many of them with us before we die. Harliss, relay my orders. Find me a weakness in that shield.”

Eklan turned to Jessit and nodded to a side door. “Taelen. My incident room.”

Jessit followed Eklan into the private study obediently. These were the quarters where he once planned strategy. This was also where he held disciplinary meetings with any crew member who failed to live up to his expectations.

Eklan didn't say anything at first. He flopped down in the chair at the head of the table and stared up at him. No offer of a seat was given to Jessit.

“I need your counsel. I won't deny that. But if you so much as raise an angry brow at me, I will turn you over to Kalya right now.”

“Understood, sir.” His thoughts kept drifting back to Rachel. His Rachel. Could hearts break any harder than his? She had sacrificed her life to send a final plea. They had to destroy the com-web.

Eklan called up several monitors hanging to his right. One displayed the position of all his ships. Another constantly scanned the position of Earth's fighting forces. The third remained locked over the Pacific.

Volleys of energy bursts struck this region, but none had penetrated so far.

Eklan stood up and gestured to the ocean. “We're not getting through.”

Jessit flinched. “Sir?”
Damn it.
He had to focus on the war, or Rachel's sacrifice would have been in vain. “Sorry, Commander.”

A warm ember deep inside recalled his last moments with her. She was with him, at least in spirit.

“Are you all right?” Eklan studied him more closely.

“Yes.” Jessit straightened the tabs of his collar, now naked of insignia. He nodded toward the screen. “The volleys are random, single shots with pulse weapons. What if we used anti-matter?”

“Anti-matter? On a bombing run? I don't think it's ever been done. It's designed strictly for ship-to-ship attack.”

“I'll grant you, it'll be messy, but I think we should be able to load the warheads into a bomb. The only thing that troubles me is that a shield of this magnitude might require more mass.” Jessit ordered the computer to call up energy readings from the com-web.

“Matter/anti-matter warheads don't get any larger than one kelo-sym, Taelen. Trying to build anything larger is too risky.”

“Agreed. Which is why we have to fire several shots at close range in rapid succession.”

“The cruiser that fired those shots would be in danger of the percussive shockwave, not to mention they could get dragged down with the wave. They'd have to put every bit of shielding to the fore.”

Jessit said nothing at first. Anti-matter weapons were kept in reserve specifically for the massive super-warships that littered space. They'd never been used in a bomb drop on a planet.

He locked his hands behind his back, the way he always did before he sent men into potential suicide missions. “Command decision, sir. Your call.”

Eklan stared at the live pictures of his ships attacking at will. He cleared his throat and opened a channel to his troops. “Stand down.”

Jessit dropped his head and let out a sigh. He had to trust Eklan. But he didn't anticipate it would be quite so hard.

Eklan squinted at the monitor, focusing on the ship closest to the coordinates they had been given. “Andira, load anti-matter weapons. We think several closely spaced volleys might pierce the matrix.”

“Acknowledged, Command,” the voice of Captain Ledesis answered back.

There was a slight pause in communication when Ledesis came on again. “Sir, my Tactical officer has informed me that four anti-matter bursts in immediate succession might weaken the shield as you suspect, but because of the delicacy of the magnetic shielding surrounding the anti-matter particles, we can't fire fast enough to create that anomaly. We'll need another ship firing nearly simultaneously to compensate for the firing delay.”

Jessit lifted a brow in appreciation. Ledesis was one of his best captains. He was a man of incredible prowess when it came to strategy, and Jessit had learned to rely on the young man's instincts. It didn't surprise him that it was Ledesis who had maneuvered his ship directly above the coordinates they'd been given.

“The Ventri here, Commander,” another voice interrupted. “We can alternate fire with the Andira, sir.”

“Very good, Captain Theiss. Get in position and keep this channel open.”

Theiss. Another fine captain. Seasoned. Unflappable. This was a good team.

Dozens of ships hovered above the critical coordinates. Slowly they moved off, retreating to a safe distance while the Andira and Ventri drew closer to the atmosphere above ground zero.

“Andira is in position,” Ledesis said.

“The Ventri is on your starboard,” added Theiss. “Initiating share-protocols.”

A few seconds went by. Theiss came on the speaker again. “Share-protocol complete. I yield fire command to you, Captain.”

“Understood, Ventri.”

Jessit stopped breathing, waiting for the first bomb drop. Anti-matter was nothing to take lightly. Few ships carried such weapons due to their delicate nature. And now they were getting ready to annihilate a planet and quite possibly the two ships in synchronous orbit, as well.

Eklan switched to an interior view of the Andira.

Captain Ledesis sat confidently in his chair, his fingers tented in front of him.

Ledesis was a thorough officer, but he was also impulsive, plunging headlong into danger when other captains held back.

He knew Theiss, who was older and more seasoned, would pull his ship away as soon as they launched weapons. He hoped Ledesis would be just as prudent.

Jessit admired the man's spirit and unwavering determination. But the young captain was anxious to make history and that was never a good combination, especially in the heat of battle.

Ledesis hailed Eklan again. “Weapons loaded and primed, Commander. At your discretion.”

Eklan looked back at Jessit, perhaps seeking confirmation that he was doing the right thing.

Jessit remained silent. This battle was in the hands of these two captains. Eklan had only to give the order.

“Shields on full, gentlemen. Ledesis, you have fire control.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Ledesis' bridge spurred into action. Each man called out his stats, verifying them with the Ventri. Ledesis focused on the monitor and the deep blue of the vast Pacific Ocean. “For the gods.” He whispered in prayer. His eyes turned bright. “Fire anti-matter!”

The Andira lobbed the first bomb, hitting the target precisely. The Ventri fired immediately afterward. Followed by a third, then a fourth volley from each ship.

The energy readings of the com-web fluctuated, trying to maintain its matrix. The fourth blast warped the field enough to collapse the shield at that one miniscule point.

There was no way to know how long it would take the com-web to reestablish shield integrity. But Jessit was sure their window of opportunity would be small. Evidently, Ledesis knew it too, because he ordered the Andira through the weakened walls.

“No!” Eklan yelled at the screen.

“Damn, the fool.” Jessit gauged the ship's heading from a base console.

The Ventri pulled back, but the Andira vaulted forward, immediately following the blasts. Communications faded in and out as it fought the fluctuating waves of the force field.

“Shields are gone. Compensating with dampeners.” True to training, the Andira's helmsman remained calm.

“We've lost power, sir. Backups have also failed,” said a bridge engineer. “The electromagnetic pulse from the blasts has destroyed helm control. We're in freefall, Captain.” The man looked up from his monitor, a morbid face of resignation. “I'm sorry, sir. We're not going to make it.”

The transmission crackled before snapping to dead silence.

Eklan kicked a chair. Jessit probably would have been next had he been close enough. It was never easy to lose men, good men—and now a whole ship. Jessit understood Eklan's grief all too well.

“It was a fool's move, sir,” Jessit said. “It wasn't your fault.”

“I don't need your pity!”

Jessit narrowed his eyes at him. “A fact, sir. Not pity.” He tugged at the hem of his tunic.

“At the risk of insubordination, may I remind the Commander that fool or not, Captain Ledesis gave you your chance. Order the rest of the cruisers in, before the shield strengthens. Earth's air forces won't take long to reach the area.”

Jessit and Eklan returned to the bridge. Every screen was targeting the trajectories of several warships—Earth's combined forces.

American Air Force jets arrived first, screaming at them from a group of islands in the Pacific.

Eklan studied the new threat on the board, fighters with amazing speed and maneuverability. “What are those?”

“Checking database, sir.” The Tactical chief looked up from his screen. “Got it. F-22 Raptors, sir. The latest American technology. I've located their base on the Hawaiian Islands.” He scanned his intelligence files. “Standard fighter on most accounts, Commander, but they're loaded with what the Americans call ACMs, advanced cruise missiles.” He read off his screen further, swallowing visibly. “Those could hurt us, sir. They are tipped with thermonuclear warheads.”

“Damn,” Eklan cursed. “Tell them to lock on to those fighters. Let's take them out first.”

The Tactical officer summoned radio and thermal scanning units. He glanced up at Eklan, looking sick. “I'm sorry, sir. I-I lost them.”

“What?”

“They've disappeared from my sensors.”

“How?”

“Unknown, sir. We don't have much information on their stealth capabilities.”

A board operator monitoring traffic shouted a curse. “I found them!”

Tactical went back to his scanner. “Where? I don't see anything.”

“Neither did I,” said the operator. “I found them because they just vaporized one of our cruisers.”

Eklan clutched the arms of his chair. “I want all cruisers to travel in pairs. Rely on visuals if you have to, but find me those damn fighters, and blow them out of the sky.”

It took losing three more cruisers before the Raptors could be identified. Their sensor signature was so small, they weren't recognized right away, but once their computers knew what to look for, they targeted the fighters at will.

So far from home, they couldn't afford to lose any more ships.

The opening in the bubble remained small, and it had already begun repairing itself. The ships inside the shield would be trapped until they could bring down the com-web. They didn't have much time.

Eklan hesitated, a look of uncertainty on his face. He was going to hold back—Jessit could read it on his face. Damn him. Not now.

“The bubble is reestablishing itself, sir. We'll be cut off from our ships inside the atmosphere in a few seconds.”

“Confirmed, sir,” Com said. “Communication between us is faltering.”

Jessit rushed Eklan, standing mere inches from him. “Move in now, Commander!”

Eklan glared at Jessit with all the venom he could muster. “I won't trap the rest of our forces inside the atmosphere.”

Jessit got in Eklan's face, risking certain insubordination. “We have the advantage here, sir. We can locate and destroy the com-web's core once and for all.”

“You're out of line, Taelen.”

“And you are wasting our resources!”

“Senit.” Eklan pointed to Jessit. “Take your master to his quarters. See that he stays there.”

Senit pulled Jessit toward the doorway, but Eklan grabbed Jessit by the arm before he left.

“If I see you on this bridge again, I'll have you arrested.”

Jessit looked back at the monitor. Dozens of their heavy warships were still outside the strengthening shield. “Your bridge, Commander. Your conscience. You've made a tactical error here.”

“Senit, get him out of here. Now.”

Senit dragged Jessit away, but before they left, he heard the helmsman make one final announcement. “Shield has reestablished, sir. They're on their own.”

***

“Are you insane?” Senit said as he pushed Jessit down a long corridor.

“He's making a mistake.”

“Maybe so, but you of all people know better than to call him on it.”

“Our best chance of destroying the com-web was from the inside.”

“That's no longer your decision, Taelen.”

The words felt so sharp they could have cut flesh. Jessit stopped in his tracks and looked down at his feet. “You're right. It isn't.”

“I shouldn't have said it that way. I'm sorry.”

“Too many people are sorry today. I'm the least of your worries.”

“The Lady will be avenged. Eklan isn't going to give up. He's just not going to fight this war the way you would.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And that's what bothers me.”