The Empress

Twenty-One

Gladius finally entered the star system on the ninth hour of the fourth day of the week, local time. The great ship glided toward its destination, still smoothly decelerating in a curving trajectory that was destined to end in high orbit over Ignis Glace. Red sunlight gleamed on a thousand modules as they swung majestically around the ship’s central torus like a spinning constellation of stars.

A flotilla of small Nexus ships was on hand to greet them, as had been anticipated by all sides. Millions of miles from the target world, a battle was to be fought in deep space. The Nexus patrol ships, sitting quietly in cold space, became suddenly visible. Their tiny engines flared and they swept forward to intercept the bigger vessel from a dozen different angles. They would be in weapons range within hours.

For the express purpose of witnessing this historic occasion, the Empress summoned the nife commander and all of the Parents into her august presence. Small thrones of lumpy brown secretions had been erected for the Parents. The younger four arrived early and took their seats, warbling through their foodtubes excitedly. The Empress regaled them with a lengthy speech about Imperial invincibility.

The last Parent, the one that had been shunned for so long, the progenitor of them all, finally dragged her bloated carcass into the room. Her daughters fell to privately radioed whispers and audible blats of surprise at her pathetic appearance.

The Parent heaved herself closer, and looked for the throne she was supposed to mount. There was none.

“Excuse me, Empress,” she said.

The Empress made a liquid sound of disgust, then turned her attention to the new arrival. “You are late.”

“My apologies- I was not told of the affair until just now.”

“There is no excuse for tardiness.”

“Ah, of course not, Great One. But I was wondering where my throne might be?”

The Empress made a great show of swinging her many orbs around the chamber. “Why, it appears to have been forgotten. I suppose you must squat there on the deck. There’s nothing for it now. The battle is about to commence.”

“I see,” the Parent said. She collected herself with as much dignity as she could. She tucked her tentacles under her swollen birth chambers so they would not spread and splay quite so broadly on the flat deck. Internally, she burned with fury and embarrassment. Here she was, the birthmother of the entire flock, and they dared treat her like a moronic trach.

Nearby, the younger Parents on their thrones twittered amongst themselves, amused by her embarrassment. How was it her own daughters had been twisted from her so easily? The Parent fought to control herself and thus prevent an outburst that might result in an immediate spacing. Perhaps that was the Empress’ plan…if so, she’d not give her the pleasure. The Parent wished to witness the glory of this moment, her life-long goal, as much as anyone else present.

The Imperium assault, when it began at long last, was poetry in motion. The lead nife commander had prepared for months, and his inborn knowledge of Imperial tactics was razor-sharp. Long before the enemy ships reached firing range, he ordered his fighters to launch and intercept. More than a hundred sleek, needle-shaped vessels streaked out from Gladius’ outlying nodules, many of which had been modified into launch bays during the long journey out from Neu Schweitz.

The nife paraded in front of the Parents and the Empress, all of whom dwarfed him. This was his day of triumph, and his stalks were fully extended in his excitement. “Truly, ladies, this is the hour of Imperial glory we’ve all awaited. Let us all take a moment to contemplate-”

“Get on with it,” the Empress interrupted. “Show us the battle display.”

With a crestfallen glance in her direction, the nife quickly tapped at the nubs and tips of a control nodule that resembled an upside down jellyfish. They were all offered a channel link, which the Parent quickly accepted.

Their minds were immediately linked to the external organic sensors on Gladius’ hull, and to the incoming data from the fighters themselves. They were thus able to experience the optical and auditory input of the Skaintz in the battle without actually being present. It was like human video and audio reproduction-but infinitely superior.

The nife’s voice played over the images and sounds they were receiving like the input of an announcer. “You see here, the enemy ships are converging on our position. We are unable to alter our course, so they will intercept us within a few hours. This is an attack we cannot prevent. However, before the enemy reach us, they will have to deal with our defensive fighters.”

Now, their point of view shifted to the fighters themselves, switching from one intense arl pilot, working the controls of his hybrid-organic ship, to another. There were dozens of pilots, and they all had in their sights an enemy human patrol boat. There were three fighters targeting every enemy ship, oftentimes four. The Parent felt a gush of pleasure-inducing chemicals in her brain. The humans were about to be wiped out.

To their credit, the enemy did not waver in their attack. They must have been able to see the oncoming onslaught, and realized their doom was at hand. But they did not turn away nor decelerate. They pressed onward, apparently as eager for battle as the Skaintz themselves. The Parent felt a quiver of emotion. Defeating an enemy that struggled vigorously was an infinitely superior experience when compared to the running down of bleating cowards.

They did not have long to wait. The first laser bolts were fired rather earlier than expected. The Parent felt a moment of qualm when she realized her own ships were not firing. They were, in fact, engaging in evasive action. At this great range, the laser bolts took several seconds to reach their destinations. By randomly adjusting position-swerving from side-to-side, up and down, the firing ship must guess where the enemy might be when the laser bolt reached the target distance.

“Why aren’t our ships firing?” the Parent demanded.

“Yes, order them to fire at once,” the Empress said irritably. “I’ve waited long enough to see the enemy perish.”

“Uh-” the nife said, touching various nubs and tips in rapid succession. The point of view switched rapidly from one sleek fighter cockpit to the next. None of them were firing. “There seems to be a small difficulty.”

“A problem?” boomed the Empress. “I do not like problems, and I do not like being kept waiting. Order our fighters to fire at once-what was that?”

A flash had impinged on all their remote senses. Then, a moment later, a second flash.

“We are taking incoming fire,” the Parent said dully.

“Is this true?” the Empress demanded.

“Yes,” said the nife, “you see, we are not yet within effective range-”

The Empress slapped her central tentacle then, and the vibration from the impact made everyone’s skin tingle. “I’ll not have this incompetence. I’m not the fool you may believe, nife whelpling. You did not design our craft properly.”

Two more flashes ensued. Five had been destroyed, and still the Imperium craft did not return fire. How long before they were all wiped out? At this rate, the Parent did a quick calculation. The enemy was destroying a fighter every thirty seconds or so. The whole force would be wiped out in under an hour.

“The enemy do seem to have greater range than I had anticipated,” the nife whined. “My estimates were based upon previously encountered ships of this class. But we will be in range soon.”

“How soon?”

“About…ten minutes.”

“Order the fighters to increase their acceleration.”

“But, Empress-they will not be able to return to this ship before we make planetfall-they’ll be too far out, going too fast to turn around in time.”

The Empress made a bass noise of disgust. She paused, thinking. The Parent did not envy her choices. More flashes continued during this interval, and the Parent perceived they were coming with greater frequency. The enemy was getting closer, and becoming increasingly accurate.

“Do it anyway,” she said at last. “We must destroy their fleet. They must not be allowed to endanger my person.”

“Calculating the growing rate of losses-yes, I now agree, Empress.”

“One does not agree with an Imperial order. One obeys it.”

The nife was strutting again. He seemed to recover incredibly quickly from any setback. The Parent marveled at his unquenchable bravado.

“Ladies,” he said. “Our fleet will meet the enemy on full burn. The battle will be short and vicious. I’d hoped to spare a few of them, disabling their ships and capturing a few fresh food-creatures. Alas, we must destroy them all in the cold void.”

The Empress made a sound of disappointment at hearing this. But she did not countermand the order. The enemy was far too close.

At last, the humans were within effective range. The imperial fighters began firing back with deadly accuracy. When the first hit was confirmed, everyone slapped and flapped excitedly.

Laser bolts flashed out into the dark, answered by return fire. Each side was at a range so great they could not hope to actually see their enemy. But the results were deadly all the same. Before it was over, the Imperium fighters had been reduced to twenty-six effectives. The enemy was utterly destroyed, a series of silent, floating hulks of metal and frozen blood.

Everyone in the Empress’ chamber set up a great hullabaloo. There was now nothing between them and the target world. No defenders could stop them. They were going to make planetfall with their invasion ships, and commence a most gleeful slaughter. The Empress in particular began to describe to the others the choice meats they would sample, and everyone slavered at the prospect of live food.

Alone among them, the Parent worried. She thought about the skalds in their enclosure, and the Tulk they’d discovered in their skulls after vivisecting them. She thought about the enemy tactics, which had almost succeeded in overcoming their defensive fighters. These humans were full of nasty surprises.

As they fled deeper into Nightside, Sixty-Two decided to follow Garth’s advice and head for a region known as ‘The First Deep’. It was essentially a gigantic sinkhole that wound down into the planetary crust. The rim of this region wasn’t a cliff, but rather a stair-like series of jumbled rocks. From the depths of the hole steam and other vapors rose from geothermal vents. This sounded promising as cover. If the Twilighters were looking for them from the sky, they could be tracked via their heatsinks, which would glow brightly for any thermal-sensitive cameras. The hot vapors would obscure these telltale signatures from the sky.

As they reached the rim of the upper vents, Sixty-Two saw the billowing heat roiling up like a dark pillar that propped up the stars. He suspected the skald had led them here for the warmth, if nothing else. The place would increase the man’s odds of survival as well. It was not important, however. As long as the humans lost their trail, that was good enough.

“Steam, where there should only be ice,” the skald said aloud from Lizett’s back. He was standing high now, fully exposed. The air had warmed considerably, and he was taking full advantage of it.

“This is the spot?”

Ornth shook Garth’s head slowly. “Farther. We must find the source of the anomaly. Standing on the rim gazing in wonder is insufficient.”

Sixty-Two swung his orbs downward, doubtfully staring into the jumble of steam-slicked, fallen stones. His feet were metal, but he did not relish sliding down into the darkness on those wet rocks. Every surface appeared treacherous, whether it was frosted with a glaze of ice or dark and shining with hot liquid.

“I think if we circle the vent, we’ll do fine,” he said. “This is an excellent place to avoid our pursuers. I commend you for thinking of it, Ornth.”

The skalds burning eyes turned to him, as if seeing him for the first time. “What? You must proceed! I have come so far. Lightyears and thousands of miles on foot.”

“For this? You must explain yourself or I will not step another inch closer to that hole.”

“This is the anomaly!” Ornth said, becoming excitable. “Can you not see with those optics?”

“What anomaly?”

“That which cannot be, but is. That which can’t be found, because it is plainly visible.”

Sixty-Two clacked his grippers in irritation. Always it was like this with the skald, or the Tulk, or whatever he called himself. There were no clear answers, nothing useful. Sixty-Two turned away from him and his army of mechs followed. The man made a few squawking cries, but Sixty-Two ignored him. They would circle the vent, using its heat to shield them from detection. After that, they’d plan their next move. He thought the best move would be to head even deeper into the freezing wastes of Nightside. The crazy skald could stay behind if he wished. In fact, leaving him here would be a pleasure. Lizett would be heartbroken, of course, but it couldn’t be helped. If they pressed on into the darkest regions of the planet, he could not survive anyway.

It was Lizett’s cry some minutes later that caused Sixty-Two to relent and look back. Immediately, he worried she had fallen into the dark crater. But he could see her. She was at the very rim, looking out into the rushing vapors.

Sixty-Two signaled a halt and moved to her side. “Have you gotten your foot stuck, Lizett?”

“No,” she said. She pointed with a gripper out into the plumes of fog. “Look!”

Sixty-Two peered into the steam and adjusted his orbs in vain. It was difficult to focus when the gasses were opaque and shifting. He did notice, however, that Ornth was no longer riding on Lizett’s back. Immediately, Sixty-Two directed his orbs downward, expecting to see a mangled body on the jagged rocks.

“Did he fall out?” he asked.

“I don’t know how got out there. I could not feel him climbing free of his sack. Only when my weight and balance gyros registered a shift did I suspect it. I reached for him, but he evaded my grippers.”

“Got out where?”

Insistently, Lizett pointed not downward, but directly out in a horizontal direction. Sixty-Two peered-and finally, he did see. The skald appeared to be standing in the midst of the rising steam column, where there was no surface to stand upon.

“How did you get out there?” Sixty-Two demanded.

“This is the place. The place that cannot be. Follow me, if you would know the truth.”

“Follow you? How can I do that? You are a mad-thing.”

“Place one of those great clanking feet in front of the other until you stand at my side,” Ornth said.

“I’ll do no such thing. Come, Lizett. He’s trying to trick us. He stands upon a stone we can’t see. We’ll leave him here. Either he’ll come to his senses, or he won’t, and I’ll be rid of him at long last.”

Sixty-Two turned and walked away. The rest of the mechs formed ranks again to follow.

“I’ve done it!” cried Lizett’s voice behind him.

Suspecting he wouldn’t like what he saw, Sixty-Two swung his orbs back to look at Lizett. She was walking on nothing, heading out into the vapors to where Ornth stood waiting. Sixty-Two stared at the pair, dumbfounded.

Aldo and Nina rode their mounts at the head of their combined armies, driving deeply into Nightside. Now that they had the numbers, Nina no longer moved carefully. She wanted to find the enemy, and overrun them. Moving at full speed, their mounts were capable of nearly twice the pace of a running mech. The ride wasn’t comfortable, however. The freezing air rushed by like a hurricane. Their goggles were soon frosted with rime and even with suit-heaters running at full blast, their extremities were numb from the cold. Aldo wondered if he’d have all his toes left after this expedition. He doubted it.

The mechs were relatively easy to follow, as they left clear tracks. At first, they passed by half-frozen mud and tundra. As they pressed more deeply into the colder regions, there was only ice and dry, blowing snow.

“We must press hard,” Nina radioed to Aldo. “We can’t let up for a moment. We can see their tracks now, but if the wind picks up and the snow falls deeply, the tracks will be filled in as fast as they make them.”

“Can’t you see them from the air?”

“Those assets have been reserved for surveillance over Twilight. You did your work well, Aldo. The Duchess is quite fearful of an attack on our best lands.”

Aldo privately thought the Duchess was the saner of the two, but he held back his opinions on the matter.

Not being certain where they would contact the mech forces, they spread themselves wide and sent scouts rushing ahead. A squawk of radio came back from one of the scouts on the left flank. Nina tried to raise him-but there was nothing but the single moment of contact. Not even an intelligible word had been heard.

“Swing left!” she shouted over the command channel. “Captains, detach your nearest group of squad strength and rush to that spot. Report the moment you get there, even if you are under fire.”

“You may be sending those men to their deaths,” Aldo said to her on a private channel.

“Command is difficult. Perhaps you are not up to these hard decisions.”

Aldo stayed moodily silent. In his mind, he could not reconcile this harsh woman with the soft sultry thing she had been when she’d first met him in a chiffon gown. He could scarcely believe he’d bedded her and enjoyed himself immensely.

Being within a reasonable distance, the two commanders sped to the spot with their personal guard drifting behind. They arrived in the middle of a full-pitched battle. Just before they came over a lip of land and were confronted by an immense column of rising steam, a squad-leader radioed in he’d met up with a small group of running mechs. The enemy turned and the fight began.

The enemy consisted of twenty ex-perrupters, each with laser cannons affixed to one arm and power-swords held in the other. The pursuing humans fired bolts at them, but with little effect. They soon turned their mounts and fled. The enemy charged after them, burning them down with well-aimed fire into the backs of retreating men.

Nina’s personal force of one hundred knights was the next to arrive. They crested the rise and charged without orders. There was hardly any need for Nina to signal the attack, as she herself was among the first to goad her mount to full speed. Aldo came behind them, breathing hard. This was not his kind of fight. It was too wild, too uncontrolled. A man could be taken out by a bolt of flying energy, never having notice the individual that fired it. He much preferred individual dueling. No one had consulted him, however, so he rode with the rest, bent over the barrel-like body of his mount and firing laser bolts when the path ahead was clear.

Both sides peppered the other with fire. The mechs were outnumbered, but it took many shots to bring down one. Usually, a single laser hit knocked a man from his mount and sent him tumbling over the ground. A dozen men were struck dead and three mechs sagged down before the two charging lines met.

Power-swords arced and flashed as men and mechs crashed together. Barrages of laser fire lanced back and forth at pointblank range. Ice-covered rocks sizzled and formed glowing hotspots when the laser fire missed or glanced off a metallic surface.

Aldo followed closely in Nina’s wake and watched as she swept off the head of a perrupter. Blinded but not finished, the perrupter dropped its sword and snatched at her with a gripper. She ducked under and rode away. As Aldo approached the flailing machine, it shot another mech in the side accidentally, causing it to stagger. A fraction of a second later, Aldo pierced the chassis, aiming for the braincase. The mech sagged down on it back, its heat sinks melting snow into steam.

The fight was chaotic. The naturally cold, dark environment was frequently altered by glaring flashes of heat, light and scalding vapors. Soon, the number of flashes fell off rapidly, as the dead mechs piled up. A moment later the humans realized they had won.

Nina was not finished, however. She rode her mount to every mech and examined it. She thrust her blade into the guts of any machine that dared twitch, and many that did not. Aldo followed at a safe distance.

“We’ve won, Baroness.”

“No, we’ve won nothing.”

Aldo cocked his head puzzledly. “In my opinion, any battle which leaves me breathing is a clear victory.”

Nina glanced over her shoulder at him. She held her sword over a fallen mech, but withheld her killing stroke for the moment. “I’m looking for a certain mech-one that dresses like a man. He’s not here.”

Aldo nodded and glided closer. Nina turned to her grim work, lifting her blade.

Suddenly, the mech’s gripper shot up and grabbed her ankle, and pulled. She was ripped her from her mount. She went sprawling.

The perrupter was missing its legs, but it was still capable of moving. It heaved itself up and lunged for her. A gripper rose and fell, and sparks exploded from the spot where it smashed into stones. Nina scrambled to escape, crawling away from the thing. She reached for her sword, but then it fell upon her.

Nina screamed as it crushed her down with its body. It stiffened a moment later, and warm liquids bubbled out of it. The mech stopped moving.

Aldo peeked over its shoulder, looking down into the face of the Baroness, who panted raggedly under the mech. “Are you all right?” he asked mildly.

Nina struggled, but could not escape from the dead mech, due to its great weight. Several knights had to help free her in the end, lifting and rolling away the body.

“It leaked its brain fluids all over me,” she said disgustedly as she got back to her feet and limped to her mount, which idled nearby. “Did you have to thrust your blade completely through its body?”

Aldo pursed his lips in annoyance. “Perhaps I should have let it have its way with you.”

She turned and glared at him, then finally sighed and climbed back into her saddle. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thank you for slaying the rebel.”

Aldo nodded and said no more about it. He sensed that apologies did not come naturally to the Baroness-nor to anyone else on Ignis Glace, for that matter.

“Where are we headed now?” he asked later. He noticed that she now allowed him to ride alongside, rather than always shying away. It was a subtle improvement of mood, but one worth noting. He calculated that if he were perhaps afforded the opportunity to save her life a dozen times more, he might be back in her good graces.

“We are going toward that great geyser. The tracks lead straight toward it. I believe they plan to hide from our sensors there. The clouds are constant and no electronics could pick out their heat signatures in that region.”

“What if they are hiding there? Waiting to ambush as this group did?”

“Then we root them out and destroy them all,” she said in a tone that indicated he’d asked a senseless question.

Aldo followed her without comment. One day out of the three he’d agreed to go along with this hunt had passed. They’d found and destroyed an enemy patrol, but he was less confident than ever after the experience. The small victory had been costly. He had no idea how the battle would go when they faced thousands of these tenacious machines.

#

Word of the destruction of his rearguard came to Sixty-Two as he stood gawking at Lizett and the man who called himself Ornth. He was goaded to a decision then, as the enemy were much closer than he had thought possible. There was only one reason they would attack now-they felt they had the advantage. There had to be a vast army of them.

Sixty-Two swiveled his head to the left and the right. The rim of the crater stretched on for miles. There was no cover, no fortress of stone to take and defend. Then he turned his chassis and stared back up the rise in the direction where enemy contact had been made. They were miles back, but on flying mounts, miles went by quickly. There were no good options, he realized. He would have to make his stand here. The enemy had caught him with back against this crater, which he now realized was trap rather than a refuge.

“Let’s form-up!” he broadcast to every standing mech. “Battle formation, centered on my location. Face sunward, and test your weapons now.”

All up and down the line, the mechs halted their walking and milling about. They ran on churning metal feet to do as he asked. Captains relayed orders and marshaled their companies. They broke radio silence freely now, since Sixty-Two had already done so.

“Sixty-Two?” called Lizett behind him. “You simply must come out here. It’s so lovely and strange.”

Sixty-Two barely glanced at them. “Stay where you are Lizett. If we lose this battle, perhaps the humans will not notice you hiding on that ledge, or whatever it is.”

“It’s not a ledge, silly. It’s a plane. You can walk on it, even if you can’t see it.”

“I made need your help, mechanical man,” Ornth called. “I urge you to come here and escape this pointless battle.”

These last words finally angered Sixty-Two. Since it was going to be several minutes before his troops had positioned themselves, and they required no further guidance, he whirled around and clanked to the rim of the crater. He addressed the two who hung in space in front of him.

“Pointless? Our survival is not pointless. It is all that matters to my people. What good are we as slaves, or as dead rebels? In the next minutes, our status will be forever decided.”

“There is a third option.”

“We cannot evade them. You’ve brought us to this point personally. Our backs are pressed against an abyss.”

“You can evade pursuit, if you do it quickly enough.”

Before Sixty-Two could make another angry retort, Lizett interrupted. “I think I know what he means. I’ll show you.”

She walked toward him then, and as Sixty-Two watched, he came to doubt his connection to his optics. She was walking on nothing. Soundless, she approached on the roiling vapor and stood at his side.

“See?” she said proudly. “My little Ornth found this.”

“He’s not a pet rabbit, Lizett,” Sixty-Two said. “You must not trust him with your life.”

Lizett pouted. “You will not even try?”

“Try what?”

“Step with me. I’ll take your gripper and show you the way.”

Sixty-Two glanced over his shoulder. His forces had lined up on the rocky region around the crater. They were well-placed. When the enemy came charging over the ridge, they would be exposed to his fire from a hundred laser cannons.

Lizett took his gripper. His curiosity got the better of him and he allowed her to guide him into-nowhere. A moment later, he stood beside Lizett and Ornth. They looked positively smug.

“How are we standing here?” he demanded. “Is there some kind of magnetic field? Some kind of trick of physics? Or is the floor simply disguised?”

“It is the place that cannot be,” Ornth explained unhelpfully. “It is the place I have sought.”

“How far does it extend?”

Ornth made a sweeping gesture, indicating the entire sinkhole. “There is no limit.”

Sixty-Two looked around, and suddenly new possibilities occurred to him. “There are no holes? No gaps?”

“This place cannot be,” Ornth said.

Sixty-Two made a sound of disgust with his speakers, but he quickly began testing the ‘ground’ around him. It gave slightly under a mech’s feet, but only an inch or so. After that, it was as firm as land could be. He soon found himself marching this way and that. He returned to the rim of the crater and jogged along its border, a hundred yards in every direction.

Finally, he turned to his army, which had now formed up ranks before him and quietly awaited whatever might come to them. He felt pride in their stalwart nature. Mechs did not flee combat. They might fall and die, but never while screaming in terror.

He then gave the order for his entire army to retreat out onto the streaming vapors, to stand upon nothing-to hide in plain sight. They did as he asked, walking awkwardly at first, as if each step would be their last. But soon, they adapted, and they walked further into the pouring storm of hot gasses. They could not be seen, nor heard here.

As they waited, Sixty-Two reflected on what might seem to others to be a cowardly act. He knew his people were anything but cowards. But he also knew the enemy would not advance if they didn’t have sufficient force to destroy them all. They retreated in order to survive another day-or at least, another hour.