“He speaks the truth,” Dee said.
“We figured that much,” I said, “but that’s a long way off. What are you proposing, Eenos? That we just give up? Go back to our designated area and play some rousing games of checkers? I don’t think so. We’re humans. We don’t scurry away from a fight, and we don’t ‘wait things out.’ We may be over-matched, but we’ve been that way since the Julipion showed up. We made that bitch ours then went on a rampage and destroyed a bunch of our enemy’s ships. So if we want this bucket, we’ll take it.”
The mute looked like he was going to self-destruct. “Let me destroy this one. His squeaks grate on my ears.”
“I will crush your skull before you can take a step,” Dee told him, squaring off.
I was just a puny nuisance up against a mute, but he had to take pause of Dee. Still, mutes weren’t known for over thinking their problems. We had that in common.
“Harker.” Eenos was getting his beast under control.
“Yeah, heel, Harker,” I added a little fuel to the fire.
“I do not propose an alliance; it would be a constant test of strength on both sides to keep it. But may we not have peace between us while on this journey?”
“And then what, Eenos? We get handed over to your high command and placed in a zoo?”
“Lelten,” Dee explained.
“Perhaps some of you; there are too many. The rest will enter the games or fight for us alongside the Genogerians and Devastators.”
“No softball pitches from this one.” I was looking to our group. “I’m about a half second from putting a bullet in his head. Anyone have a reason why I shouldn’t? Anyone? Nothing from anybody? Huh. Good enough for me.” I raised my rifle. “Any last words?”
“What do you hope to accomplish by my death?”
“One less Prog in the world and a good night’s sleep. That’s a start.”
“There is another way.”
“I’m listening.” I’d yet to lower my rifle or take my finger from the trigger. “And if Harker there keeps moving for his pistol I’m going to aerate his ugly head regardless of your plan.”
That was met with a resounding growl.
“When the Vicieus comes out of her buckle, the waiting ships will leave a wide blast zone around us in case of an explosion. At that point, your people can make their escape in large shuttlecrafts.”
“Escape to where? Shuttles don’t buckle; in terms of cosmic distances, we wouldn’t get far.”
“It is possible you could make it to FreeTown.”
Dee winced, looked like he’d been kicked by a donkey. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “That would take us years. The humans would never get back home. And the sanctuary FreeTown provides is an illusion.”
“Well, there you have it, Eenos. That’s a big fat no-go.”
“You would take the counsel of a Genogerian?” he sneered.
“The wind from his ass means more to me than the crap you’re spewing from your mouth.”
“Really, Mike?” Tracy asked.
“Metaphor, baby. Just a metaphor.”
“It was a shitty one,” BT added.
“Oh, I see what you did there.” I took one hand off my rifle to fist bump the man.
“Michael, whereas I appreciate the sentiment behind your colorful phrasing, we are in delicate negotiations here; if something is misconstrued, it could mean disastrous results,” Dee said.
“Fine, fine. Okay Eenos, what is your root motive? Let’s get all the way down. Cut through the bullshit and just tell me why you are even here offering what you think is a deal.”
Eenos looked up and over my left shoulder. I couldn’t see anything in the murk of the room’s corners, but if one had to take a guess, it would be that there was probably a camera of some sort up there.
“Really? I’m dealing with a lackey? Get your ass down here,” I shouted.
“Knowing your proclivity to shooting first and asking questions later, I thought it wise to send a subordinate first,” a voice echoed from above, although this was no god.
“It would seem your reputation precedes you,” Dee felt the need to throw in there.
“I watched the playback of the final meeting between you and Asuras.”
“I understand your concerns, but Asuras had it coming. He told us one thing while all the while he was planning another. I thought your kind had evolved past bald-face lying. I was wrong. I won’t make that same mistake twice. Like I told Peenis…”
“Eenos. My name is Eenos.”
“Trust me, Peenis works better right now,” I told him after he’d interrupted me. “Who am I talking to?”
“I am Imperial Witness Alken.”
That meant nothing to me, but it seemed to affect Dee a great deal.
“Good or bad, buddy?” I asked softly.
“It is indeed; and either way to a great magnitude,” he replied.
“That’s fucking encouraging.”
“It was not intended to embolden you,” Dee said.
It was not a good sign that he’d missed or ignored the sarcasm in my response; that meant he was distracted.
“Alright, Alken…” I started.
“Imperial Witness Alken, you shvuglat!” the mute yelled.
“Betting that was an insult,” BT felt the need to inform me. Things were not loosening up in here at all, and I knew this progression. Barrels would be firing soon enough.
“My mistake.” I wanted to placate the mute–for now, anyway. “Imperial Witness Alken, we are patiently awaiting your explanation for this convening.”
“As Sub-Commander Eenos has already said, there will be no alliance between the two of us. We could not honor it even if we wished to, and I do not.”
“Straight shooter, anyway,” I mumbled, more to myself than anyone. That, I could respect. Not what I wanted to hear, but the truth seldom is.
“If we were to battle for this ship, I am told there are fair odds you could succeed. Forty-two percent, if the simulations are correct.”
“I’d peg it closer to seventy, but it’s your fantasy war.”
“Be that as it may,” he said, “many will die on both sides. Our models show unsustainable mortality rates in either outcome. We have accrued our maximum acceptable loss of vital personnel since our sister ships were destroyed.”
“Breaks my heart,” was on the tip of my tongue. Tracy pinched my ass so hard I almost bit the fucking thing off, my tongue, I mean.
“Play nice,” she hissed. “Hear them out. We’ll discuss it after.”
“Therefore,” the Imperial Witness continued, “if we have armed conflict on this ship, neither side will be left with the capability to operate it sufficiently over the distance it will travel.”
“Does that matter?” Paul asked. “We’re on a one way auto-pilot for your world.”
“Normally, it would not. But the Stryvers have somehow been able, not only to detect our buckle, but to track it.”
“So, why not let your armada on the other side deal with them?” This was my question.
“Again, that would be preferable, but our computer simulations have shown that not only are they following us, but they are somehow manipulating quantum physics and are gaining on us. They will certainly overtake us before we can reach safety.”
I wanted to say that was impossible, but really, how would I know? I was a C science student on my best day. That fucking elemental chart was my undoing. Paranoia struck my brain; I could almost hear the spider monsters powering up their guns as we stood there.
“Our estimates read one month before they are in a position to use their weaponry on us,” he continued, anticipating the most obvious question.
At first that sounded like plenty of time. I mean, imagine being on the highway with some jackhole road rager coming up to take a shot at you with his sawed-off shotgun, and it was going to take weeks for him to creep up on you to do it. When you said it like that it was fine. But when you remembered you we
re going to be on the highway for years, then it kind of sucked. All a matter of perspective.
“Alright, sounds like all the cards are on the table. What do you want from us?” I asked.
“Want from you? Why, nothing except your compliance,” Alken said. “If you will keep your people confined to deck five, I will see that they are provided appropriate supplies to keep them hydrated and fed.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Come now, Michael. Surely you don’t need for me to explain everything.”
“Maybe you do, Imperial Witness. Because right now I don’t like any of your scenarios for us. We sit back, chill for a couple of weeks until you need us for a hopeless battle where the Stryvers come in and make us all space debris, or somehow, we make it through and they never catch us, then my people become slaves to a very unforgiving Progerian regime. You see, and I think I speak for all here with me, neither of those outcomes work that well for us. Honestly, our best chance is to beat the shit out of you and your goons, find a way to disable the buckle drive, duke it out with the Stryvers, and then head back to Earth all victorious and shit. Finally get that statue of me I’ve been wanting. You think it would be too much if I was on a horse? I mean, I don’t really like them, kind of scared of them, in fact, but it makes you look so much more stately.”
“Mike.” Paul was trying to get me back on track.
“That sounds very ambitious. Our computer models show that as having a three percent chance of success.”
“What? You have a model for that as well? Ignore it. What the hell did your fancy calculator say were your chances of conquering Earth in the space of a month or two?”
There was a dead silence on the other end, I thought maybe he had dropped the mic and walked away. When he spoke again, I imagined I could detect the slightest tone of resignation in his voice.
“Early models had shown a ninety-two percent chance of complete control and domination in less than two weeks.”
“How’d that shit work out for you? Not so well, if I recall. You might want to rethink the odds of our success. Every single person here and behind us would rather fight to the death in the effort to free ourselves and those we love, rather than sit idly by while others dictate our fate. Can you say the same? Once we take care of your frontline mutes, then what, Alken?” The slight was intended and it did not go unnoticed, judging by the fuming reptiles in front of me. “Are you going to come out and fight? Doubtful. So, here’s my proposal. All of you step down, yield the bridge to us, and we’ll get your sorry asses through this with minimal losses. And unlike what you have planned for us, we will allow every single one of you to go free. Won’t harm a scale on your body.”
“You insolent…”
“Control your dog here, Alken, or I’m going to put him down.” I was referring to the mute who was seething; that he hadn’t already charged was a testament to Alken’s power. “Don’t answer just yet; I want you to mull it over. I want you to rethink that three percent chance versus your calculated ninety-two. Really start to crunch those numbers. Do not doubt our resolve, Alken, that’s something your machines do not figure in. I’ll give you an hour; after that we are at war.”
I don’t know who said it first, Paul or Tracy, but they asked if I was out of my fucking mind. Maybe I was, but that’s when I do some of my best thinking.
“Scoot you two.” I was talking to Eenos and the mute. “I’m done with you both.” Eenos again looked to the camera before leaving. The mute’s mouth opened. “One fucking word, any fucking word, really, and I’m going to blow your head off. Take what little brain is housed in that gigantic melon and get the fuck out of here while you can.” My knuckle was white from the pressure I was exerting on the trigger. To the mute’s credit, he said nothing. As they left, it was tough to tell if I was relieved or sorry that no shots had been fired.
We’d no sooner left the room ourselves when Paul shoved me up into a wall. I felt pain pulse from the contact point of my shoulders colliding with the bulkhead.
“What the fuck, Mike! You trying to get us killed?”
Dee and BT both took a step in, I shook my head “no” to them.
“Did you see an option I wasn’t aware of?” I asked. He had yet to let go of my collar. Anger and fear blazed in his eyes; was more than expecting a punch to my head.
“Diplomacy, you fuck. That’s how things are done!”
“You really think there was room for negotiations? Because I didn’t hear any offers.” I said as I pushed him off of me. “Our only chance is to take this ship and use it against all of our enemies. I would think that would resound with you above anyone.”
“I can’t believe this shit. You! You’re going to write the letters to each and every one of the families of those that die up here.”
I couldn’t help but let out a snort. Hadn’t meant it as a laugh, I just couldn’t figure out how he thought that was going to be possible. He wasn’t quite done, but he might have seen the futility of his argument, since he headed off to where the troops were.
“You alright?” BT asked.
“Yeah, he didn’t even hit me.”
“I meant are your giant balls compressing your spine.”
Now it was Dee that snorted. “It is amusing to me that human males continually talk about the size and breadth of their genitalia in relation to bravery or foolhardiness, considering the testes themselves are such a fragile organ.”
“Let’s go. Both of you, gear up. We’ll be knee deep in shit soon enough.” Tracy told them. After they left, she was looking at me; sizing me up, maybe. “You did the right thing.”
“Wait, what? Oh sure, you kick out my only witnesses before you say that shit. No one will ever believe me.”
When I’d told Alken an hour, that had seemed like a fairly brief amount of time. But now that the information had been spread to the entirety of us and we were on high alert with guards posted, it seemed more like an eternity. Our best chance of taking over this ship with minimum casualties was surprise, and I had foolishly squandered that element in a pissing contest. My outburst, meant to suppress their actions, may have forced them instead.
“General Talbot, we have activity, hallway seven.” This was immediately followed by three more alerts.
“What kind of activity?” Tracy got on the radio.
“Devastators. And they’re setting up some equipment I’ve never seen before.” Sounded like Corporal Reynolds on the other side, but I wasn’t certain. “Pretty sure it’s not the welcome wagon, sir.”
“Fire on them. Fire now. Do not allow them to set up! Sending more troops your way.” I’d grabbed the radio and sent the message out to all of them.
“There is still a half an hour remaining on your ultimatum,” Dee said.
“Doesn’t look like Alken was going to hand me the reins, Dee. Major,” I said, all business now as I turned to Tracy.
She was on the move, rounding up troops and assigning them to corridors. The chatter of automatic fire was already coming from three sides.
“Fucking happy now?” Paul asked.
“Little bitch.” BT moved up and in between us.
“Hold on, everybody. BT, we don’t have time for in-house shit.”
“Yeah. You made sure of that, didn’t you?!” Paul was on one.
“Fuck, Paul. Every time I think we can make some headway you go and take a shit on the carpet. I realize you don’t like to get your hands dirty, by being in the thick of it. Let me do what I do best and when this ship is ours, you can run it. Until then, go make us some sandwiches.” I walked away before he popped something in his head. I could see the steam building and I just didn’t have the time to care about his feelings. Troops of ours were going to die today.
“This corridor is a little light!” Tracy shouted. I knew what that meant.
“You ready?” I asked BT and Dee. Didn’t wait for a response, I got a round in the chamber and was flipping my safety off as I ran.
Tu
rned a corner just in time to see one of my men, Reynolds, I think, have his head not so neatly removed. He fell forward, blood pumping up and away from his neck. I could not pause to keep looking, though a sick part of me almost had to. Mutes were advancing forward, without the slightest concern for our hail of bullets. They’d get so far in the hallway and just stop. They weren’t trying to take our position; they were attempting to give cover to whatever Reynolds had warned us they were setting up.
“BT put a rocket in that mess!” A beam of red passed over my shoulder and into the wall behind me. I’d not had much time to dwell on how lucky I’d just been when I heard the whoosh of a rocket, smelled the brown streak of exhaust, and saw the green of a large arm that dragged me back and into relative safety. The ship felt as if it was going to shake apart from the explosion. Dee righted me after we stopped pretending we were straddling the San Andreas fault. I was heading back for mop up duty.
“Your actions are nearly as reprehensible as your verbal skills,” Dee said.
We were still getting a few red beams of death from the mutes.
“Hit them again!” I shouted to BT.
“It is not wise to use rockets in a space ship.”
“I know Dee, I know. But we’re up against it right now. We either win everything or we lose everything. We don’t have the luxury of moderation or saving up for a rainy day.”
“Fair enough,” he replied.
“Really? Twice in one day I get told I was right? I must be about to die.”
The next explosion was even more deafening than the first, which seemed strange because I was deafer for it. The ship was having a harder time regaining equilibrium after this second strike, at least in our little corner of the world. I was crouched low because I was unsure of the placement of my feet on the unsteady deck. The mutes that weren’t blown to bits were in no shape to continue the fight. I was running awkwardly down the hallway at them, not giving them the opportunity to regroup. I had a half dozen men and women with me as we cut the survivors down. I could now see the machinery that Reynolds had been talking about–looked sort of like a quarter-scale old style VW Bug. It had a rounded top and where the headlights would be there were oversized gun barrels.