Oberheim (Voices): A Chronicle of War by Christopher Leadem (top books of all time .txt) 📖

The human flesh, the human trial, had left him. There was only Simin, and he was one.

The Stone, which had appeared to burn white-hot, was cool, and he experienced a sense of tranquility such as he had never known. He had done it. The spirit of Shannon was at peace.

His mind was calm, his own. He remained, outstretched foreclaws touching this new life, where death had been certain. His inner being was like the quiet surface of a pool. A tiny pebble fell into it, and as the ripples smoothed outward and the settled stone touched bottom, he understood.

"It is a strange truth that the path to beauty and meaning often lies through fear and ugliness." After a time another part of his being added this. "God may exist; at times I feel him. Yet we must walk dark paths alone, and endure."

He remained there in silent thought for some time, until at length he turned and made his way back toward the tunnels, knowing now with certainty what he must do. His mind possessed new powers, because it was one with the Unnamable. His armor was many times stronger.

He knew what he must do.

IV

It was irony, perhaps, but also a shrewd tactical maneuver on the part of Shin il Sung, that brought the Laurian refugees to Hegel V, the remote Canton mining planet. Limping toward Soviet Space with a patchwork of seventeen ships, Shannon's second-in-command had hoped at first that that the fascist armada, which had paused for two weeks to regroup and consolidate its victory (whatever that might be, as the colonies they attacked had been largely destroyed), would at least allow them to escort the civilian carriers unharmed. But when the fanned out cluster of ships began to appear again on laser detection, mockingly unconcealed, he knew that he hoped in vain. Their enemies could leave no honest witness to the massacre.

Shin's own trail would be more difficult to follow, but he knew that in the end they would be found, long before the countless miles had been crossed. Sheer distance made this part of the galaxy anarchic.

There would be no help from beyond. The Soviets, with their usual pragmatism, had said a polite no to his request for protective escort, even hospital and civilian ships for the wounded, and the women and children. It was clear that they were taking a larger view of the conflict, hoping to turn it later to their own advantage, which made the lives of a few thousand refugees of but small concern. And there was no one else to turn to. His messages to the Commonwealth and Japanese outposts would not be received for weeks, not believe until long after they were dead.

Not that he was wholly unprepared. For many long nights he had puzzled over charts of this sector, trying to find a place where, if they must fight and die, at least it would be on solid ground. Space combat against such a force was less than futile. It was nothing short of murder, with no place to run, and no hope at all. The trick was to find a land base that could not (or would not) be attacked from the air.

The memory of the Hegel diamond mines had come to him as pure inspiration. The Cantons, gearing up for an expanded war effort, couldn't possibly afford to knock them out, especially after the unexpectedly severe break-up (explosion, really) of Marcum-Lauries One, the valuable ore planet, now lost. And this far out in neutral space, at a time when ships and men were needed elsewhere, he doubted that the mines were guarded by more than a token force. If he got there first, and caught them off guard….. Shannon had chosen his second well. Shin was tough as nails and twice as sharp, and with the same capacity for facing despair without letting it overwhelm him.

He had acted immediately on the impulse, whatever its source, putting the fleet on standby combat readiness, and jumping light-speed toward the target with five destroyers and two hundred of their combined army's best troops. No other Canton outpost lay within that vector. The closest neighboring system, Centaurus, was bleak and uninhabited. The rest of the fleet would come behind, arriving roughly forty-eight hours later. Then, if they had been able to subdue and take control of the mines, together they would prepare to meet the Armada.

*

"You have grown, Simin-that-was."

Returned to the land of his birth, he stood alone by the Carrier Stone with the aging queen who had given him life. A gentle wind sighed in the valley. Nothing else moved.

"I am Simin."

She considered this, listening to his unspoken thoughts.

"Yes, you are Simin. What will you do now?"

"I must go." It was not necessary, but still he signaled the words to her with a touching of the antennae. For he loved her. The queen bowed her head.

"The human's death was not wasted. That pleases me, for his spirit was great. Go now with all our thoughts."

Simin took his leave of her, flying slowly and circumspectly up out of the Gorge. These emotions were his alone. He flew to Shannon's ship, and entered it. Working the controls with melancholy ease, he left forever the place of his birth.

* * *

The Canton Fleet Marshall walked openly toward the three broad cave entrances held by the Laurians, tucked in and overhung with shadow at the base of a dry, tawny ridge several thousand feet high, crowned with foliage. The precious diamond mines lay beyond.

Marshall Bota had not bothered with a signal of truce, or an escort—-his hovering vehicle stood empty behind him. No doubt the mercenaries would be tempted to shoot; but he had no time for these games. Shin's move had been a clever aggravation, nothing more. Looking up at the wind-veined rock, the Canton told himself with mild amusement that he should drop it on their heads. The hostages meant nothing to him, and the mines could be re-dug….. But some of his soldiers might not understand. Wait until later in the war, once they'd had a taste of it.

Shin watched the approaching general through the glasses, searching for any sign of personal weakness. It was indeed their only hope. Recognizing him as the Fleet Marshall, a small voice inside did in fact tell him to shoot. But though bitterness rose strong against restraint, he knew that it would be pointless and dishonorable to kill him now. Though doubtless if the tables had been turned…..

Bota was somewhat surprised to see the Korean's solid form emerge from the canopy of shadow, striding toward him. He had expected an older man. He stopped where he was and waited. A slight upgrade, and the two stood face to face.

The marshal unclasped his breathing mask and slipped it aside, though the dense atmosphere of that place was barely sustainable to human life. The Korean did the same.

"Commander Shin, I believe." Shannon's second was only mildly taken back by the use of his name and proper rank.

"Bota."

"MARSHAL Bota."

"You didn't come all this way to tell me…(he struggled for breath)… how many men you stabbed in the back! What do you want?"

"One would expect a cornered monkey to show more respect."

"A cornered MAN has nothing to live for. Speak your piece and get out."

"All right. I want the hostages. I want them now. Your civilian ships will be allowed. . .to whimper to Soviet Space. We won't stop them. It's your hides we're after."

"You'll let them go, just like that. Is that why you destroyed ALL our ships? Is that why your ground equipment is lined up against us?"

"Oh, yes. There is that. Well. We've had our little talk. Enjoy your moment of heroism. Lord knows. . .I'll enjoy ending it." He started to walk away, then turned. "Oh, about the hostages." Shin's glare was unchanging. "Cut off their heads, and throw them down into the mines. I'm going grind you to powder."

*

The Canton line advanced slowly from its distance of five kilometers, a visually odd procession of large flat vehicles, cat-tracked, with lightly armored ground troops hurrying behind, protected by the advancing shield wall of the Armadillos. Huge laser cannons projected from their slanting fronts, all trained upon the thick bar of shadow at the base of the oncoming ridge. Bota's machine led the subtle wedge, its magnetic-field disrupter already pulsing to try and weaken the Laurian's shields.

Shin barked out his orders rapidly, for all the good it would do. He stood with several of the men before the instrument-laden vision panel, simultaneously listening to analysis of the enemy advance, searching for a non-existent weakness, and trying to exude some measure of confidence and calm—-which wasn't easy with only four big guns of his own, and his power-shields unstable. His headset buzzed with two and three voices at once. THERE HAD BEEN NO TIME TO LAY ARMADILLO MINES!

The civilians (those who would go) were huddled in groups of two- to five-hundred in the deepest recesses of the mines, along with the prisoners. He had no illusions about their safety. The rest, perhaps a thousand grim, forlorn men and women, stood resignedly behind them in the vast hollow that joined the three cave openings, bright arches that looked out on the light of day, watching a young officer try desperately to save them. And all the while Shin struggled to think what Shannon would do in his place, and what he would feel.

All at once the Canton lasers began to fire. The temperature in the enclosure rose noticeably, and the walls began to tremble from the pushed-back force of the shields. The soprano thump of their own guns began to sound, as Shin fired his energy bursts in answer. They made a brave sight and sound, bright spheres whizzing through carefully timed openings in the shields, but seemed to have little effect on the grim machination set against them.

Feeling the trap close in, Shin strode from one battle station to the next, snarling his commands like an animal. Sections of rock crashed down from the ceiling to the sound of screams and deep pocks. A great fissure rose along one wall, widening, and he began to wonder if he had not murdered these people after all. One of the Laurian gunners was struck by a falling stone, and he ran to take his place.

As suddenly as it had begun, the Canton barrage ceased. The advancing machines stopped dead in their tracks. The Laurian shields, too, went down, and their guns would not fire. The clustered civilians, many locked in sheltering embraces, looked around and at each other. Medics ran to attend the wounded.

Bewildered, Commander Shin moved out from the largest of the cave openings to examine his shield projectors. To left and right they were intact. WHAT HAD HAPPENED?

He heard a soft roar as of a ship passing high overhead. He looked first at the halted Canton wedge, not trusting. They were little more than a kilometer away. The ground troops moved about in confusion as officers shouted, but the great Armadillos were silent and still.

Tentatively at first, the scattered shapes and tension-drawn faces of his own soldiers, intermixed with the Laurian refugees, stepped out from the dividing line of shadow. He thought to order them back, but did not. He, too, felt his eyes drawn to skyward. Against the dark, greenish dome, cloudless, an orange flame descended from out of the pale fire of the sun. It was not a large ship….. Shin tried to discipline his hope.

There could be no doubt. It was