Chronicles of the Aeons War, page 28
part #3 of The Omniverse Series
“It’s sparser than you’re accustomed to; the Caliburn is primarily a military ship.”
“I’d guessed.”
A klaxon began chiming; a strange, brassy sound ringing uncomfortably loud. Acshah heard a rumbling surge that she thought was some muffled explosion at first, until she realized it was the roaring cheers of the crew.
“What?” she asked, “What happened?”
Proctor Ilsa turned, crying. She was laughing as her tears fell and Acshah was frightened and confused at once.
“She’s been found! She’s Awake!”
“Who?”
“The Queen,” Pomeroy exclaimed, “The Queen of Light and Sorrow!”
Acshah felt even more frightened for the answer. Another klaxon blared, this one more electronic, over more quickly.
“This is the Captain,” a voice announced, “By order of the Queen our fleet is breaking orbit and making course for Melete. All personnel Make Ready.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The crew are to be ready to head to duty stations at the next order,” Pomeroy explained, “That order will send them all to combat stations. After that, we should expect to come under attack.”
♦♦♦
The ring of fire purging the atmosphere was more than halfway done, shrinking back as it approached its termination pole over the Dark Sea. Anyone who’d survived the Zohor looked up as flames swept across the sky. They felt hope, fear, awe. Some laughed; others wept openly. Most watched silently as boiling black was replaced with skies of the purest blue. But just as the rebirth of Midian’s atmosphere was seen from below it was also seen from above. The Evacuation Fleet saw it; the Zohor saw it.
A conical planet-killer ploughed toward Midian. Its forward hull split open, dividing four ways; the exposed inner sections of the Zohor ship created an accelerator bed. A thirty meter wide sphere of iridium was loaded from the main hull of the ship. The accelerators charged and the Zohor changed its pitch and selected its target. A blinding white orb of cold light burst open behind the planet-killer. Its only defensive system was its thick skin; this ship had been designed as a single-purpose flying weapon. The sustained particle beam attack from the fleet appearing behind it blew the Zohor ship apart before it could fire on Midian.
A wide, almond-shaped vessel, its knotted hull the colour of dried blood, was at the center of the motley fleet. Dozens of ships of varying size, configuration and space worthiness flew around the Ouroboros. The Caliburn was rising from Midian’s orbit, joining the evacuation fleet. More Zohor were appearing in the void between Midian and the Ouroboros’ fleet. Smaller flares of light blossomed nearer to the new threat from the killer machines: new Combat Instances of the Ouroboros Fleet appeared, breaking formation to engage the Zohor. More Zohor arrived: two of the silver-spined orbs and a host of smaller, needle-shaped vessels. A large, irregular sphere appeared among the Zohor as they engaged the El-Ahur. The sphere broke apart, and thousands upon thousands of tiny Zohor Sweepers rained down on Midian.
Alone on the Umbra, Allison McQuire looked up and out beyond Midian’s atmosphere. She saw the Sweepers descending.
“No,” she said calmly.
A column of energy rose like a fist from Midian’s atmosphere, catching and obliterating the Sweepers as they fell. One of the spine-covered Zohor ships exploded, destroyed by the El-Ahur onslaught. The deadly missile-spines deployed ahead the explosion, scattering in all directions. The instances of the Ouroboros fleet dodged through, but spines dropped on toward Midian and the Caliburn’s fleet didn’t have the manoeuvrability of their would-be saviours. Below on the Mountain, Allison Saw it all.
“This won’t do,” She said, irritably. She flexed Her Will and the Zohor spine-weapons turned to dust.
In space above, a new instance of the Ouroboros’ fleet provided cover for the Caliburn’s evacuation fleet as they made their escape. The Zohor pummelled them relentlessly, even as the other two instances of the El-Ahur fleet zeroed in on their target. Exactly one point twenty-one seconds apart, two more instances of the Ouroboros and her sister-ships took the cause, trapping the Zohor in a hopeless crossfire. As She made Her way down from the Keep, Allison Saw the battle, and it was good.
She reached Olympus and was met by the first of the Gesheol El-Ahur as they made their way into the city. They thronged around Her begging Her for Her Blessing, for absolution, Her protection. When it became tedious Allison Shifted away from them. In Her place, the Gesheol El-Ahur found a large black slab of standing stone, on which a message was written in gold letters:
Make your new homes here in the City, and ready the City to receive My Children from the valley below. It is time that the Grandchildren of the Old Earth, Midianite and El-Ahur alike, live as one. The Tribes will no longer stand apart. Your duty is to prepare My City. My reward to you is stewardship over the Umbra, from summit to base.
In the sky above Allison Saw another wave of Zohor approaching; here was the body of the attack fleet, the bulk of the forces they’d sent to destroy Her world and Her wards. Not yet time for Her to intercede. The El-Ahur knew the Zohor were coming. She would show them that She had returned. The instances of the Ouroboros fleet were gone; A lone version of the fleet was moving into Observation-Instance positions, waiting to record what was to come. Allison was pleased; this was how it was supposed to be. The El-Ahur knew that the Zohor’s sheer numbers alone would crush all resistance; time limited the number of instances they could produce before the Zohor struck Tens of thousands of ships drove toward Midian. All the Ouroboros could hope for was to buy time for the evacuation.
Headed towards Melete, the fleet led by the Caliburn was flying perpendicular to the incoming Zohor swarm. This was also as Allison had wished it to be. From the Caliburn fleet’s vantage they would have a clear view of what was to come. All would bear witness to Her Awakening and to Her Power. A vanguard of a hundred Zohor engaged the El-Ahur. Allison reached out to the rest of the Zohor, Her mind enveloping and numbering each one; and then She turned Her Will against them.
The largest of the enemy were in the center of the pack, surrounded on all sides by smaller vessels. The five major ships were all death-orbs, their spines alive with malignant intent. Allison found the power cores of these monsters, easily discerning their inner workings and how to sabotage them. The death-orbs exploded in the midst of the swarm. Flying dense formation, most of the Zohor were overwhelmed and obliterated; those that weren’t, were heavily, irreparably damaged. Those that could still fly continued in towards Midian. Allison flexed Her Will again and every El-Ahur in the fleet had a vision of Her as She now made Her way down the Djed Pass:
“I am the Queen of Light and Sorrow. I have defeated the enemy. I bid the commanders of the Ouroboros’ Fleet to finish what is left of the Zohor, then come to meet Me in My Temple; To the rest of the Phenex El-Ahur, both in the Defence and Evacuation fleets: you have witnessed that which I wished you to witness. Return now to Midian and to My Temple; I am calling a conclave of those who fight to defend My world and all those who live upon it.”
♦♦♦
The sky over Midian had cleared but for the ever-rising columns of smoke from the ruins of the cities. The heart of the city of Landing was gone, a molten crater in its place. To the South Zohor projectiles had devastated the major city centers in two-pronged strikes: The first wave struck the cities and the second the middle of the Southern Ocean. The resultant tsunami wiped away the coasts of Sinai and the Southlands. In Sinai, only those who had been fortunate enough to be on the caravan routes from the Shore Cities to the Inner Kingdom of New Rome escaped destruction. The coastal cities of New Jerusalem, New Bethlehem, Barat El Mecca and all the towns and villages between were flooded, devastated, ruined; the survivors were few. To the Zohor, the Inner Kingdom of New Rome had seemed deserted, abandoned. It was now the only whole city left standing on the continent and hundreds of thousands of caravanners-cum-refugees were descending on it. In the Southlands Echo Point and Crescent Hill had been obliterated. Southgate on the far western shore survived only by virtue that most of the city was sheltered in the craggy foothills of the Blue Mountains. Starburst Bay, the city for which the unfortunate El-Ahur ship had been named, fared better than its namesake; remaining intact because their cities were carved high in the canyons.
In the North the Zohor had done exactly as Yeung Acshah had feared: striking the Taiga Cove to generate a wave that washed itself completely over the continent of Tear. They had also struck the cities of New Bangalore and Incense Harbour directly. In Tear the devastation was immeasurable, the death toll nearly absolute. What few survivors there were would stand little chance without rescue, and rescue was not yet a sure thing. Still the cleansed sky and the sight of the El-Ahur ships in low orbit gave solace to the survivors across the broken globe.
From an observatory station aboard the Caliburn, Yeung Acshah looked down on Midian’s scarred face and wept. She could zoom down to ground level in the ruins of New Bangalore; it couldn’t be called street level, anymore. The streets had been washed away, along with the temples, homes, people…She could make out her general neighbourhood only because of geographical features that hadn’t been destroyed by the wave. Acshah couldn’t identify her street or where the apartment had stood and it seemed a mercy. There was only whitish ovals and floodwater left across the landscape; the surviving traces of Human incursion into Tear were the foundation walls of buildings’ basements. Most of the city had been washed out to sea. Where rubble and debris had managed to stay ashore it clustered in obscene mounds. Acshah did not dare turn her sights to the seas on the far side of Tear; the dead floated near the surface by the hundreds of thousands, Human and Marine animal alike. The oceans were dead, the continents irrevocably scarred. She shut off the viewer and left the terminal, deciding to return to her quarters.
♦♦♦
The improvised spaceport at the Rai’Ha’s Spire had been expanded; previously only shuttles and supply ships could come and go from Landing, but now smaller cruisers and small gunships from the Fleet gathering above could land. The Ouroboros’ fleet was finishing off the Zohor remnants at the LaGrange between Thalia and Midian. The commanders of the evacuation fleet were gathering at the Broken Spire, waiting for all to arrive before departing for the Temple. For many among them it had been hundreds of years since they’d set foot on Midian’s soil. Other than the Blue Mountains themselves, in the wake of the Zohor attack nothing they knew remained. They were silent as they looked out on the visible destruction of Landing, some weeping openly. When they at last boarded the transport to the Queen’s Temple, the commanders of the evacuation fleet felt as though they were leaving a funeral.
The sky may have been restored but the land itself was still in ruins. It was hard not to look out the portside screens at the devastation below. Anything in the city core that hadn’t been levelled in the strike had burned; outlying buildings had been toppled by the shockwave and only a few low-standing, hearty structures remained even remotely intact. Then there was the Temple. The Wall and Shrine of the Stone had taken the brunt of the blast; the rest of the Temple complex did not stand unscathed: its walls were scorched, blackened, several massive blocks of stone cracked or toppled. Refugees were still being taken from the Temple to the Spire, from the Spire to the ships. Until rescue operations were complete and reconstruction began there was no better place for Midian’s scattered survivors than in the warm, abundant safety of the Fleet. And now that they knew where to find them, the Zohor could return at any time; the more aboard the ships the better their chances for survival.
“The Zohor won’t return,” the Queen said when her audience assembled, “I have enclosed the Twin Systems in a protective barrier. Any Zohor Ships attempting to navigate this space will cross the surface of the barrier, unaware they’re even doing so. Only the Phenex El-Ahur and her allies will be able to freely cross. The Zohor will no longer be able to find this world or her people.”
“How is that possible?” one of the Queen’s Council stammered.
“In time you may come to understand,” the Queen said, “Because that is all it is: an understanding of things that allows Me to do it.”
The surviving Marshalls of the Suphia El-Ahur and the Fleetmasters of the Phenex El-Ahur sat with the Queen’s Council, before the Queen’s Seat. Allison glanced up, staring toward the entrance of the Queen’s Court; the uppermost of the five levels of the Shrine of the Queen.
“The Ouroboros’ fleet has completed its operations,” She said, “Their commanders will be here soon. When they arrive we will discuss the condition of and rebuilding our forces. The Aeons War is far from over and the Zohor are still very much a threat.”
The Queen turned back to her Council. “I’ll provide you with the number and location of the remaining survivors across Terra Nova…as few as they are,” She said, and Her sadness was a palpable weight in the chamber. “So much has been lost; so many have died; many more will still die. But, together we will rebuild Midian; we will make this place our home again. When the City of Olympus has been prepared we will begin moving the refugees there. When everyone is settled and seen to, we’ll start the reconstruction of our world. When our world is healed we will rebuild our forces and we will show the Zohor that their time is at an end.”
“As you say,” the Council replied, as one.
She looked out over her Councillors: the Fleetmasters so recently aboard the Caliburn; the Marshalls of the Suphia El-Ahur; the surviving High Priests and Priestesses of the Five Shrines, and of course the newly-widowed Handmaid to the Queen.
“I know many of you are still…unsure, uncomfortable, even afraid of Me,” She said, “That is as it should be. I would be afraid were it not so; I’ve never wanted your Devotion; only your trust. Allow me to earn that trust, now.”
♦♦♦
Until they reached the Ehlo Bene, which wouldn’t be until the Queen of Light and Sorrow gave leave for the Caliburn to depart, Yeung had nothing but free time on her hands. She had already been given some material to study on the history, customs and traditions of the El-Ahur. It was straightforward enough but there was only so much studying she could do in a day. The Caliburn was a utilitarian ship with little room to accommodate diversions. With thousands of refugees from Midian crammed into her hold there was even less room for trifles. Yeung didn’t know anyone aboard the ship and no one had yet come to collect her for anything more than an initial medical exam. She’d been avoiding her quarters because the loneliness she felt was worse there. But there really wasn’t anywhere else she could head. The El-Ahur were all supposed to have some sort of connection to one another. Yeung felt no such bond; perhaps she was too young, or it was something that they needed to teach her. But for now she was isolated from everyone else aboard the Caliburn.
Finally Yeung decided just to go to bed; she couldn’t remember the last decent sleep she’d gotten, and the provisional safety provided by the Caliburn around her and the Queen on the planet below made yielding to the demands of exhaustion so much easier. But sleep was fleeting and fuelled by nightmares. Over and over again she saw stars dancing in the night sky above and the dead floating in toxic black oceans; Her brothers and sisters...her cousins, nieces and nephews...her friends and neighbours from New Bangalore...Kal...his eyes were open, dead, but somehow staring into her. Yeung tried to scream but as soon as she opened her mouth she fell into the poison sea and started to drown.
Acshah woke with a sobbing yelp; frightened, confused. Her breathing slowed as she sat up in her bunk. She was afraid to go back to sleep; in the dark of her cabin it was silent, restful. Her fatigued body tried to drag her back under the covers but her mind, still frightened by the dream, wouldn’t yield. Finally she forced herself to get up and get dressed; she’d been asleep several hours and it was late into the night. The corridors of the crew decks and other unrestricted areas were vacant, nearly deserted. The quiet was near-absolute. Only occasionally did she see anyone else, usually crossing between quarters or to and from the rec areas. Not knowing where she was going, Yeung walked. Down some branching hallways she saw security officers, armed and armoured, guarding the way; other corridors ended in large, heavy locked doors. Yeung wandered, trying to shake the dreams, trying to make herself tired enough to sleep, secretly wishing that she was being guided by some force, some power beyond herself; that something, somehow would come along and make everything make any kind of sense. She knew it was a false hope; she knew that the Zohor attack had been far too horrible to serve any higher purpose. Followers of the Way believed that the Purpose was Life. What the Zohor had done couldn’t possibly serve such a Purpose. All she wanted to do was destroy the Zohor utterly and personally.
