Was Once a Hero

chapter Nineteen





Barjan bucked beneath their feet like a pain-wracked animal. Glass and metal showered from the buildings around them, crashing into the street. Unable to shout above the cacophony, Fenaday gestured frantically at the tunnel behind them. Retreating back into the tunnel mouth, the spacers watched the shifting buildings in terror as dust and dirt fell on them. They covered Mmok as best they could and hugged the wall.

“This is more than our bomb,” Fenaday yelled.

“Secondaries,” Telisan agreed. “We’ve set off some power source in that thing’s chamber.”

“We’re dead,” Li cried.

“Look,” Shasti said, pointing down the slope toward the center of Barjan. Two kilometers away, the surface of Barjan bulged and erupted, hurling debris thousands of meters into the sky. Towers tilted and fell, and the dome-shaped buildings twisted and collapsed. Smoke and dust filled the air, blocking light and vision. The ground rumbled and vibrated so badly none of them could keep their feet.

They wrapped shirts and jackets around their faces and tried desperately to breathe. Shasti grabbed Li’s canteen and splashed water on the improvised dust masks then tended to Mmok.

Debris rained down, clanging into the street for what seemed like an age. Aftershocks went on for several minutes. Had they been directly above the Prekak’s pit, they would have died, but their trek had taken them kilometers from the area.

Finally, they staggered into the open, struggling through the partially collapsed tunnel entrance. Dust filled the air as fading sunlight made for an eerie scene. With a slight shock, Fenaday realized most of the long Enshari day had passed. They were well into twilight.

Weary from injuries, shock and loss, Fenaday picked up the travois. With Cobalt’s aid, they struggled back to the truck, staggering over fresh debris, hoping to find the multi-fuel still operational.

“Cobalt,” Fenaday said, spitting thick white dust to clear his throat and wishing for another canteen. “Check for radiation.”

“Radiation levels are within human tolerance for two hours,” the machine said as it limped forward, dragging a damaged leg. “Evacuation is recommended.”

“Whatever power was added to the warhead was not nuclear as we know it,” Shasti said. “Or the radiation would be far more intense.”

She looked Telisan. “Belwin never felt anything. It was instant.”

Telisan, his eyes heavy with grief, nodded.

Fenaday put a hand on his shoulder, his own eyes hot. “I’d have gone. You know that.”

Telisan managed a smile. “I know.”

Shasti, who also could not cry, looked away.

Li stared vacantly at the rest of them. “I hope he got the damn thing,” he said, “I hope it wasn’t all for nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Shasti said. “When Vermilion blew up in the chamber, the blast disrupted the monster’s control.”

“I think that whatever kept its consciousness in the universe was in that chamber,” Fenaday added, straining with the travois despite the robot’s help. “I don’t know what death is for his race, but I think he longed for it.”

The others stopped, looking at him.

“The thing entered my mind when I was in its chamber,” he said. “I learned his history. He was once a hero of his kind. I’ll tell you more, later. If I can. Meanwhile, Mmok’s bad, and we are beaten to pieces. Let's get back to the embassy.”

They found the multi-fuel mercifully intact. Next to it, lay the inactive Airbot, where Mmok landed it before their descent. Most of the dome buildings near the machines had remained largely intact. They loaded Mmok in the back of the M-2, along with the inactive Airbot. They could do nothing for Mmok’s burns and simply hung an IV of fluids for him. The M-2’s armored hull shrugged off what little had fallen on it as it coughed into life and began to chug back to the embassy. Cobalt sat with Li in the driver’s cab, lending its sensors and infrared sight to his human eyes.

A cloud of dust towered kilometers into the sky, but the ocean breeze blew it inland and away from them. Above them some of the stronger stars of the galactic core shone palely in the failing light, as the last banners of the sun faded in the west.

Telisan finally realized one of his arm bones was broken. Shasti set it and gave him a painkiller. Exhausted by injuries and grief, Telisan closed his eyes almost immediately. Shasti had a dozen small splinter wounds, which Fenaday patiently treated. Her leg, which should have been bruised black, looked nearly healed.

Li used the truck’s radio to raise the embassy. He relayed to them, through the hatchway, the battles on the surface. “Fury and half her team, including Rask, survived. The embassy fared better. Only one dead there. The attacks have ceased, and there’s no sign of Shellycoats.”

Relieved, Fenaday and the others rode on in silence, watching the ruins of Barjan in the headlights.

“He called me, ‘his dear girl,’” Shasti said.

He looked at her. As usual, her face gave little away.

“He meant it,” Fenaday said.

She remained silent for a minute longer. “Robert, I have a favor to ask.”

“The answer is yes, whatever it is.”

“Good. I haven’t had a dog since I was a child in K-9 training. I like Risky.”

When he failed to respond, she looked at him. He’d fallen dead asleep. She shifted slightly so his head could rest on her shoulder.

They reached the embassy gates near midnight. The air rang with cheers. Hugs, handshakes and Risky’s barks greeted them, as well as anxious looks for the wounded. Mourner and her medtechs checked the surviving team for radiation and treated the injuries. All but Mmok were in decent shape.

“Mmok’s burns aren’t as severe as they look,” Mourner judged as she and her tech fussed over him, “but much of the machinery implanted in his cyborg parts is shorted out. He’s in a coma, though not in danger of immediate death.”

“Do what you can for him, Doc,” Fenaday said. “He’s a son-of-a-bitch, but he’s our son-of-a-bitch.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded to her techs, who lifted Mmok onto a stretcher and headed for the infirmary.

A small celebration broke out in the ambassador’s reception area. Cooks whipped up the best of the remaining food. The survivors sat, talking and joking in a subdued manner, their relief shadowed by the day’s casualties, especially Duna. Despite the circumstances, Duna had been popular with the crew. Fenaday gathered the survivors, telling them of the scholar’s magnificent attack. Everyone raised cups and glasses. “To the little Enshari professor and to Connery,” Fenaday managed. “May they reach heaven half an hour before the devil knows they’re gone.”

After the celebration, Fenaday walked out to the Pooka to check with Fury on the message he’d ordered sent to the Sidhe. Passing a half-open door near the ambassador’s quarters, he saw a reflection in a mirror. The room was lit only by starlight, but he could see Shasti sitting on the floor, holding on to Risky, her face buried in his fur. The dog tried to nuzzle her as his tail beat slowly. Fenaday heard a sound that might be crying. Might be. He hesitated, then fearing to make a mistake either way, he gently closed the door and padded away.

Fenaday found Fury just outside the shuttle Pooka, the incarnate personification of her name. She kept her voice low, but venom sang in it.

“I called to the ship,” she said. “That cowardly bitch Micetich and her crew think it’s a trick. They won’t bring the ship in.”

Fenaday leaned against a tree, too tired to be angry. After a few seconds in deep thought, he keyed his new communications unit. A vague, half-formed suspicion had just clarified in his mind. “Cobalt,” he said, “report to Fenaday.”

The damaged machine still proved quick, arriving in less than a minute. Its delicate, doll-like features were scratched and battered. With Mmok down, no one had the knowledge to work on the machines. They left them to their self-repair mechanisms.

“Cobalt,” he said, “your HCR controller is comatose. To whom do you default on command?”

“Fenaday, Robert F,” replied the machine, “within guidelines and restrictions.”

“Identify any Confederation forces in the Enshar system, other than ourselves,” he asked.

“Information classified,” stated Cobalt.

“Proof enough for me,” said Fenaday. “Angie, begin broadcasting on all Confed frequencies. Request assistance. Explain that we’ve destroyed the force investing Enshar and it’s safe to land. Better yet, have Dr. Mourner do it.

“My bet is your bastard boss has a warship in-system, waiting to see what happened. What do you think?”

Fury smiled wickedly at him. “Bet you’re right. That’ll fix Micetich’s ass.” She stepped out onto the lawn, heading for the surgery to get Dr. Mourner.

*****

Fenaday’s guess proved true. Fury’s message drew an answer within four hours. Mandela had covered his bet with a small Confederate task force. The next morning the heavy cruiser Challenger and the marine attack transport Io arrived from the far side of Mur’s fourth planet. The high-speed courier accompanying them headed out to jump space to relay news of the success. Captain Altermatt, of the Challenger, had orders to stand off, unless called in by Mmok, or unless he had reason to believe the expedition had succeeded. Fortunately, the cruiser captain didn’t care for skulking and followed his orders with the greatest of latitude.

With the Challenger and the attack transport closing in, Micetich’s band of mutineers found the passive support of the crew vanishing. They couldn’t break orbit. Despite the best efforts of the hackers among the mutineers, Fenaday’s security programs kept the main engines locked. Sidhe stood no chance against a heavy cruiser even if they could maneuver. Figuring it was now only a question of being killed by her own crew or a marine boarding party, Micetich surrendered to Perez. The mutineers went to the brig, and the frigate began the delicate task of lining up for atmospheric entry. She landed in the bay, just north of Barjan port, carefully making her way to an anchorage in the harbor itself.

The marine transport Io landed on her jacks at the spaceport. Challenger, far too large for atmospheric entry, assumed orbit above Barjan. Io’s marines arrived at the embassy, raising the Confederacy’s green and yellow flag.

Mmok, Cobalt and many of Mandela’s specials disappeared into the attack transport for debriefing. Fenaday and Shasti exchanged warm farewells with Rigg, Rask, Mourner and the others who had fought alongside them. To Fenaday’s surprise, Telisan declared he would remain with the Sidhe. Before returning to the star-frigate, Fenaday sent the mutineers to the Io. He couldn’t muster the energy to feel any hate toward them. Fenaday just wanted them off his ship and away from Shasti. Mandela had promised Fenaday and Shasti pardons and clean records, and he saw no point in taking risks.

At Fenaday’s insistence, a ceremony was held at the embassy to honor Belwin Duna. The captains of the Io and Challenger attended. Crews from all three ships stood at attention as Enshar’s flag climbed alongside that of the Confederacy, to the sound of rifle volleys. Fenaday added his own touch. From the bay, Sidhe loosed a three-second barrage of chain guns and lasers. The sky lit up in coruscating colors as the lasers, changing frequencies, struck the clouds. Telisan looked over at Fenaday, smiling.

The next day, Shasti and Fenaday accompanied Telisan on his mission to recover the fighter pilots from his squadron from the Earhart. They buried them with honors at the embassy compound. The Wolverine shuttles from the first expedition, they left untouched and sealed for all time.

The courier returned two weeks later. Captain Altermatt relayed the news to them from the Challenger. “You’ll be pleased to know that the government of the Exiles has declared every member of the Sidhe crew, including, by accident, the mutineers, to be heroes and citizens of Enshar. I have a veritable heap of medals and orders being awarded you and your crew by transmission. It looks like you could spend the next few years traveling world to world for ceremonies.”

“Excellent,” Fenaday said, feigning an enthusiasm he didn’t feel. He hadn't given a thought to what would follow. “Any word on Mr. Mmok?”

“No change,” Altermatt replied. “He and Dr. Mourner are heading back to Earth on the courier. Maybe they can do something for him there. You can follow up with his boss when you return to Mars.”

“Not in this lifetime,” Fenaday said. “Thank you, Captain.” He switched off the screen. Return to Mars, Fenaday wondered. Is that what I do next? He pushed away thoughts of a future that he hadn’t expected to live to see. Shasti waited for him outside. For now it was enough just to take a walk by the seaside with a pretty girl. No plans today, he promised himself. I’ll decide tomorrow.

He found Shasti by the Sidhe’s dock, waiting.

*****

The next evening Fenaday, Telisan, Shasti and the ever-present Risky returned to the ship after yet another dinner with Io’s officers. They settled into Fenaday’s quarters with a bottle of Denebian flowerwine, a gift from Io’s captain.

“I’ve been thinking about heading back to Marsport, then on to New Eire,” Fenaday said after pouring the wine into a motley mix of glasses he’d scrounged. “Our job is done. There’s no reason to stay longer. We’re all well off now, and there are things, I’m sure, that we all want to do.”

“What will you do?” asked Shasti. “Does the search go on?”

It took him a few seconds to reply. “I think…” he started, then stopped, as if the words themselves hurt. “I think,” he repeated, “that she is… that she must be… dead after all this time.” Now the words came easier, as the wall in his mind finally collapsed. “Maybe I always knew. As I look back now, maybe that’s all it was. Only my desire to hurt the Conchirri for taking her from me. Nothing nobler than that. I’ve killed hundreds, maybe thousands, of Conchirri with this ship. Now, there are none left. It still hurts as badly as ever.

“Duna said that he would forgo revenge for a home. Maybe he was right. I broke my home, many friendships and my family when I started this. What do I have to show for it?

“I’m going back to New Eire to buy back my old home. I would like to put the Shamrock line together again. With the contract money and the exclusive trading rights to a resettled Enshar, it shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Will you keep the Sidhe?” asked Shasti.

“Yes,” he said, patting the table affectionately. “She’ll be the flagship. The old girl will have to work for a living, but I can afford her now.”

“For me,” said Telisan, “it is back to my world, to see my family and a young lady or two of my own kind. There are plans that have been on hold for far too long.”

Fenaday looked at Shasti, the question lodged in his throat. Is it right to ask, he wondered. There’s so much between us, but is it something that can last? She’ll live probably fifty years longer than I will. She’s young, beautiful and now rich. I’ll never entirely get over Lisa. Shasti deserves someone of her own, without such unfinished business hanging on him. It was selfish to ask, or to offer, but he found himself speaking anyway. “What about you, Shasti? What do you want?”

Shasti looked over at him, her eyes shuttered, seeming to weigh something. “I have debts owed and owing,” she replied. “I wish to deal with those.”

Well, there it is, he thought.

“There is something I want to ask you,” she continued unexpectedly.

“Like I said before, the answer is yes,” he replied.

“I want you to keep Risky for me while I’m gone. I’d also like to keep my cabin on the Sidhe. It’s the closest thing I have to a home.”

He felt the knot in his chest loosen, glad she wouldn’t vanish from his life.

“You’ll always find Risky and your cabin safe with me,” Fenaday said. “I’ll go you one better. If I can get the old family home back, there will always be a place for you there for so long as you live.”

“That sounds good,” she said. Her eyes held his, the slightest of smiles played on her lips. “A rest, a time of safety, might be a good idea, before I attend to my other business. Perhaps it would be as well to let those matters wait a while longer.”

“If it’s the business I think it is, then you’ll need my help,” Fenaday said, unable to find more words.

Telisan looked at his two friends with more understanding than either would have been comfortable with. He sighed internally. He saw them caught between pasts they could not let go of and futures they wouldn’t seize. Telisan feared for them both, but now was not the time to speak of it.

“Then we are decided,” said Fenaday. “Homeward bound.”

A day later, Sidhe pulled out of the harbor, painfully gathering enough speed to break free of the sea. With a roar of engines, the blood-red frigate shrugged free of the ocean, heading upward. She pierced the atmosphere of Enshar, returning to the icy embrace of space, bathed by the unblinking light of the stars.

On her bridge, side by side, Telisan, Shasti and Fenaday looked into the brilliance of the stars and saw their paths.



The End





Here are the first three chapters of the next book in the series, Fearful Symmetry, on sale now.