Exodus: Empires at War: Book 9: Second Front Read online

  “Why, no,” answered Briggs, looking over at the Exec. “Are we allowed to?”

  “They said we had the run of the moon, except for some areas restricted due to their military sensitivity,” said the Exec, studying the woman closely. She was dark skinned with fine red hair, of indeterminate age, though he would have guessed it at no more than fifty, still very young by modern standards. “Do you know where we can hire a guide”

  The woman hesitated for a moment, an expression of fear flashing across her face until she got it under control and turned to the same dead look that most of the people had. “There is a man nearby who can accept your charter,” she said, tossing a small coin shaped object to Laaksonen.

  The Exec caught the object and glanced at it, guessing that it was some kind of short range com that would signal a vehicle to come and get them. The waitress glanced around, then walked off in a hurry.

  As soon as they left the restaurant Laaksonen pulled the small disc from his pocket. The two secret policemen were again with them, about twenty meters away and following them through the streets.

  “Let’s go up there,” said Briggs, giving a short hand motion toward the roof of a nearby building, about thirty stories high, the tallest in the area.

  “Good idea,” agreed the Exec, leading the way to the door to the lobby. If they could get up there and call whoever it was they were to contact, the two buffoons following them might not be able to get an aerial vehicle here in time.

  They hit the elevator bank and a lift before the two surveillance people got into the lobby, and were on their way. As soon as they hit the roof exit Laaksonen activated the com. He was not too surprised to find a large aircar already coming in for a landing as they exited the cab of the elevator.

  “Get in,” called out the Pilot, who the Exec was surprised to see was not a Pure, but an Alpha Klavarta. “Hurry.”

  Laaksonen nodded to Briggs, who charged aboard the craft with his sergeant in tow. The Major looked out and motioned for the rest to follow. “There’s one other Alpha aboard,” he called out as the Spacers all jumped aboard the craft. As soon as the last spacer had thrown herself into a seat the doors slid shut and the aircar leapt into the sky, just as the two secret police came running onto the rooftop, both yelling something those on aboard the car couldn’t hear.

  Probably to come right back, thought Laaksonen with a smile as he fastened his seat belt, then looked over at his pilot. Fat chance of that.

  “You’re Slardra,” exclaimed the Exec, looking closely at the pilot of the car. “What the hell are you doing piloting this thing?” Of course it was harder to distinguish non-humans as individuals, which didn’t mean it was impossible. And Slardra was the Klavarta that the crew of the Nina had had the most contact with.

  “It was my idea to contact you like this,” answered the Alpha with a shrug of her shoulders. She looked forward in concentration, then turned the air car on its side and slid between two close buildings that barely allowed the vehicle through. She flipped a switch and the view through the windows clouded over slightly. “Now we are invisible to those who would track us. And we have disappeared off all of the sensor nets.” The Alpha closed her eyes for just a moment and whispered, “I hope.”

  “Why all the cloak and dagger stuff,?” asked Laaksonen, seeing the look of confusion on her face. “The secret stuff, like the spy vids.”

  “We needed for you to know some things about us that the Masters were sure to keep from you,” said the Alpha. She twisted the craft and dropped down, heading for a dark opening that loomed at the base of one of the buildings. The car slid into the darkness, while Slardra pushed some controls on the car’s panel, then leaned back in her seat for a moment. “This is an old transport tunnel for freight, still in periodic use, but hopefully not today.”

  “So why don’t you tell me why you risked yourselves getting us on this vehicle?” asked Laaksonen. “And I’m assuming that now we are at some risk as well.”

  “Not really,” said the Pilot, turning her attention to Laaksonen. “They will never find this car, or the pilot. You will appear again on the streets of the capital, with a tale of a tour that you were told was approved by the Overlords. They are too afraid of not gaining the aid of your Empire to risk anything untoward.”

  “And if we just up and leave?”

  “That will not be allowed, my friend. If they think you are leaving with their secrets, and not with an offer of an alliance to present to your Emperor, they will never let you go. And yes, your ships are very large, and I am sure have a lot of firepower. And we have been defeating the ships of the Monsters, almost as large, for decades with swarms of our smaller ships.”

  And the leadership here doesn’t realize that we have been in contact with our government the whole time, thought Laaksonen. And if they try anything, not only will they not get an alliance, but the next ships to come along might have some more surprises for them. Not that it will do us any good.

  “So, what’s so important that you would risk yourself to get us alone with you?”

  “Not entirely alone” said Slardra, shaking her head. “There are others I want you to meet as well.”

  The car slid through the darkened tunnel slowly, on autopilot. A small screen showed a schematic of the tunnel, along with several sets of numbers, one small and getting larger, the other large and counting down to something.

  “Well, since we seem to have some time on our hands, why don’t you start by telling me a little bit about why you have us in this dark tunnel?”

  “It is a secure means to get you to the city of my folk,” said the Klavarta.

  “I didn’t mean literally why we are in this tunnel,” said Laaksonen, shaking his head with a smile on his face. “I meant, what was so important that you had to get us off by ourselves, out of the observation of your leaders?”

  “Because we want to tell you about those leaders,” said the Alpha, a grimace on her face. “And about the horrible things they have had us do through the time we have been here.”

  * * *

  The Yugalyth known as Lt. Lila Abernathy cursed mentally as she glanced back at the men in dark clothing who were following her party. She thought she could get away from the other nine members of her shore leave party. But the added complication of the tail was something she had not counted on.

  I need to get away, the creature thought, eyes darting around, looking for the chance. It only needed an hour, and the home of someone who lived by themselves, to set up the process. An hour, to immobilize the person with the stinger she had hidden in one of her fingers, and to plant a cell culture on their body. Over a couple of days the cells would grow, taking over the body, converting it to a Yugalyth copy of the human. It would have all of the human’s memories, and a planted data disk would teach the new agent what it needed to know to accomplish its mission. From there it could gather more specimens, increase the population of agents, and look for opportunities to carry forward the mission of her people.

  But first she needed to be alone for that hour, maybe a little more to locate the specimen, but not much more than an hour and a half. It seemed like she was not going to get it.

  * * *

  “I’m sure they meant no harm, Chairwoman,” said Commodore Sung to the woman on the holo.

  “Then why did they run from my people to get into that aircar?” asked Chairwoman Pallion, her severe face glaring out from the holo.

  Maybe because they were being observed by your people, thought Sung, keeping her face expressionless. She was still angry at Laaksonen for taking off like that. They were trying to stay on the good side of these people while they tried to get the information the Emperor wanted so he could make an informed decision on the relationship of the Empire to this nation, and not just something based on assumption.

  “I don’t have an answer for you, Chairwoman, except to remind you that my people are used to a free society in which the average citizen is not under constant observation
.”

  “This is our world, Commodore, which is governed by our rules.” The Chairwoman continued to glare for a moment. “We have a need for information security on our world, in our nation, lest the Monsters learn that we are human and redouble their efforts to destroy us.”

  And I doubt they would increase their efforts beyond what they’re already expending to try and destroy a kingdom of xenophobes, thought the Commodore. I might be wrong, and they definitely seem to have it out for us. “Again, Chairwoman, I am sure they meant no harm. And I would take it as a favor to myself and my Empire if they are not treated badly when they are found.”

  The Chairwoman’s expression became even more angry for a moment before softening. “Your people are not criminals, not in any respect. But I wish you would talk to them about staying where they are supposed to stay.”

  And hopefully they will get enough information that we won’t have to stray into forbidden areas, thought Sung, nodding her head. “Of course, Madame Chairwoman. I will have a talk with my people to see that this doesn’t happen again.” Unless we need it to happen, that is.

  * * *

  NEW MOSCOW MAY 20TH, 1002.

  “We have you surrounded,” yelled out Cornelius through the mic in his hand, his words broadcast from a half dozen armored suits that were arrayed around the cavern entrances. “Drop your weapons and come out, and you will not be harmed.”

  An entire platoon of heavy infantry had dropped in from the air transports, and were now dug into positions overlooking every entrance to the cavern system. A back entrance had been found by the microdrones, and a squad with a pair of heavy particle beams were positioned to burn down whatever tried to egress from that point.

  “We would rather die,” called out a deep voice from the central entrance to the cavern. “We are warriors, and it is our duty and our privilege to die for our Emperor.”

  “Well, so much for that strategy,” said First Sergeant Renhard Fujardo, lying in position next to his captain.

  “I would prefer just to go ahead and vaporize the assholes when they try to escape,” said Cornelius, glaring at the dark opening of the cavern. “Or, better yet, drop the rocks from the mountain onto those entrances and just leave them, dead and buried.”

  “You’re the commander on the spot, sir,” said the senior NCO. “If that’s what you order, that’s what we’ll do. But…”

  “Yeah, but.” Lt. General Baggett had asked for prisoners, and here were at least a dozen of them, in good shape. Just what they needed for interrogation. He looked at the entrance once again, then made up his mind.

  “To the leader of the Ca’cadasans in the cavern,” he said over the mic. “I have a proposal for you. Why would you want to die for no purpose? Instead, I propose that your greatest warrior meet me in one on one, hand to hand combat. If I win, the rest of you come out of the cavern and surrender to us. If you win, we will leave, and allow you to escape into the jungle as you might.”

  “I don’t know if you have the authority to make that agreement, sir,” cautioned the First Sergeant.

  “Of course I don’t,” said Cornelius with a tight smile. “So if I lose, I want you to send grenades through the entrance to those caverns. I’m not so big a man that I don’t want revenge on the big bastards if they kill me.”

  “We agree,” yelled the guttural voice. “But only if you will face our champion with primitive weapons. Blade weapons or bludgeons only.”

  “Kind of gives them the advantage, doesn’t it?” asked Fujardo.

  “At least they think so. But I intend to prove them wrong.” Cornelius looked over at the cavern entrance. “I agree. I will meet your champion, with blade weapons. As a show of good faith, I will come out first, so you will know we are not trying to trick your champion into coming into our line of sight.”

  “Agreed,” shouted the voice.

  “I think this is a bad idea, sir,” said the First Sergeant. “I advise against it.”

  “Advice heard, First Sergeant. Decision made. I’m going out there.”

  Cornelius stood and unbuckled his weapons’ harness, dropping it to the ground, then laying his rifle down beside it. He pulled his monomolecular combat knife from its sheath and looked at the blade. It was sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone with very little pressure. Outside of its sheath it was an extreme hazard, and many people in the past had lopped off fingers, and even hands, by mishandling such a blade.

  Cornelius hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was going to step out into the open and eat a particle beam. So far he had led a charmed life throughout his military career. He had seen men and women he had thought were just as good as he, in some cases better, die because they had occupied the wrong cubic meter of space at the wrong moment. There were no guarantees, whatsoever.

  No use delaying it any more than necessary, he thought, stepping out of cover and making his way down the gentle slope to the small clearing in front of the cavern. Either he did it, or he didn’t, and with the decision to do it, there was no other choice.

  “I’m here,” he yelled at the dark opening. “Send your champion out.”

  For a couple of moments, nothing happened, and Cornelius felt the cold sweat running down his face as he waited for that particle beam. Then something moved from the darkness, and the largest Caca he had ever seen stepped out of the dark and into the light. It was a mass of six limbed muscle, gripping a sword longer than a human in its lower pair of hands.

  How in the hell did it get a blade like that? thought the Ranger officer. He had seen some of the very long knives the Cacas carried into battle, but nothing like that sword, which looked like a cross between a katana and a fifteenth century zweihander. The monstrous alien swirled the blade in the air, switching it from hand to hand and leaving no doubt about its ability to use the weapon.

  “Come to me, human,” growled the creature in its own language. “And know that you face a Champion of the Empire, before I split you in half.”

  “Not really my plan,” whispered Cornelius to himself, watching that blade. He had no doubt that he was faster than the creature. A normal human had faster reaction time than a Ca’cadasan, due to the difference in size and metabolism. And his own reaction time was more than three times that of a normal human. Which would not help a bit if that sword hit him squarely.

  “Come to me, coward,” growled the creature, shuffling forward, sword point ahead like a spear.

  Cornelius started forward, his feet taking short, quick steps, knife held by his side. He was almost within reach of the sword when the Caca took a step forward and thrust, a move that should have spitted the human through the chest. The Ranger twisted his body, the edge of the blade slicing through his loose clothing, then spun inward and planted his knife into the left lower arm of the creature.

  The Caca screamed out, a high pitched sound that did not seem to fit its great size. The left lower forearm slumped as the muscles and tendons controlling it were severed by the monomolecular blade. The left upper arm came down in a desperation move, striking Cornelius on the shoulder and driving him to the ground.

  Walborski looked up as he struggled from the ground. His own great strength, more than three times that of a normal human, was outmatched by the huge creature, who also had the advantage of the mass behind its blows. If his bones hadn’t have been carbon fiber reinforced, he was sure he would have sustained at least a collar bone fracture, if not a broken arm. The creature had changed his hold on the sword to his upper hands and had brought it up to its full height. It brought the blade down, the point aiming at the Ranger’s back. With his heightened reflexes Cornelius rolled out of the way, completing the roll to come to his feet.

  The Caca slammed the point of his blade into the ground, looking up to see the Ranger coming to his feet. The creature growled as it pulled the blade from the ground, and brought it back up over its right shoulder, preparing for a hard swing.

  Cacas were shouting from the cavern, trying to cheer on
their champion. The human side was silent, and Cornelius hoped that was because of their discipline, and not because they thought he was going to lose. He put such thoughts out of his mind for the moment, concentrating on the task at hand.

  The Caca stepped forward, bringing his blade around in a swing that would have cut the human in half through the upper torso if it connected. Cornelius jumped back, then ran forward as the blade crossed and lifted to the Caca’s other shoulder. Cornelius was inside the return swing before the blade could come back, slicing his knife into the left upper biceps of the creature, then punching forward with his off hand into what he thought was the equivalent of the solar plexus of the Caca. It must have been a good guess, since the monster bent forward with a whooshing of breath. The Ranger continued forward, under the right arms of the Caca, and ran a few steps before spinning around in place.

  The Caca had turned to follow him, an expression of pain on its face, muzzle scrunched up and teeth bared. Blood was dripping from both left arms, and it was obvious that the creature was almost helpless on that side. So he ran around to give himself an approach to the left, faster than the Caca could turn, and ran in with his knife held forward. He was totally surprised by the left foot that came up and hit him in the right thigh, knocking him over and away.

  Shit, thought the Ranger, realizing that he had underestimated the Caca. Champion must have meant that it was skilled in several of the fighting techniques of his people, and that included unarmed. And now the Caca was again coming at him in an aggressive manner, sword held in upper right hand, lower right balled up in a fist and held close to his side.

  Cornelius hesitated for a moment, letting the Caca advance. He couldn’t slight the courage of the creature, much as he hated his kind. Cornelius feinted to his right, toward the Caca’s injured left, then moved in a blur to his own left, knife slashing out and cutting completely through the right lower wrist of the creature, connected to the hand that was now holding the sword.