Battle for Earth (40 page)

The act freed Johnny, but the needled Hunter-Killers were still firing on his teammates. The voice in his head was telling him to join in, but there was no way he was going to listen to that. He gave a handful of Krun spheres what for, obliterating them in a barrage of blaster fire, before his Starfighter's disrupters opened a gash along the side of the nearest Krun ship. Johnny knew he had to take charge—some of the inexperienced Earth fighters were out of control and one even fired on him as he flew past.

He was fast approaching a great mound of the black pods that he suspected had engulfed one of his fighters. Forced to swerve at incredible speed Johnny shouted into the comm. system, “Red Leader to all Earth vessels. Polarize your hulls—don't let them clamp on. I repeat, polarize your hulls.”

“Don't you think you could have told us earlier?” It was Louise's voice inside Johnny's helmet. She was still alive. “They're all over my squadron—we can't shake them.”

“Hold on,” said Johnny. In the heat of battle, with his friends' lives at stake, again he touched the cockpit either side, but this time he didn't let go. Ribbons of blue sparks leapt forward from his Starfighter's nosecone and backward from behind its wingtips, jumping from ship to ship, quickly linking the entire Earth fleet and enveloping it in a protective glow. Those Krun pods that had affixed themselves were sent tumbling away, destroyed by the ferocity of the current.

It brought brief respite, but Johnny knew they were in trouble.
A voice he recognized shouted, “They're in my cockpit … one's in my head … it's in my head!” Spencer Mitchell's screams were among the most terrible sounds Johnny had ever heard, but it was worse when they stopped.

“Blue Leader to Red Leader—go do your job, Johnny. We're counting on you.” Even with Spencer's screams in her ears, Miss Harutunian sounded in total control.

“I'm on it,” said Johnny, knowing he had to follow her lead. “With me, Red Squadron.” It felt terrible to abandon the immediate battle, but he had to trust the others to do their best. Johnny's job was to lure the very biggest Krun ships, the giant Destroyers protecting the Queen, into an ambush. He changed course to take his teammates beyond the Moon and away. Jets of black gas streamed into space from a newly arrived, apparently undamaged HK, obscuring the stars. Johnny's view was becoming blocked, tiny clumps of something settling on his outer hull. He tried to ignore them as he shot beyond the chaos of the battle, but then they started to move.

A squeaking coming from his windshield was the first sign that something was wrong. The little clumps were cutting through the force fields and then the cockpit itself. Air hissed out into space, until the Starfighter's systems sealed the breach, but not before a little bug—the same as the moth he'd seen back on Mars—had entered the cabin. He could do without this. Johnny tried to ignore it and keep on with his mission, but more moths burst through, buzzing around his head, and then one landed on his face. From the sounds reaching him, it seemed the same thing was happening to other pilots. Leaving a trail of slime, the moth crawled toward Johnny's nose and up his left nostril.

“
Leave us
,” growled the voice inside Johnny's head. “
This one belongs to me already.
”

Johnny sneezed and the furry bug shot out onto his leg,
where he squashed it instinctively. The other moths dropped to the floor, as if already dead.

Up ahead, the Krun were blockading their Queen with a protective barrier of Destroyers. Even so, the Queen's ship was so vast that some of the black studs lining its hull could still be seen. The only chance of destroying the massive ship beyond was to draw her escort away. For that, they had to convince the Krun that the little fighters of Red Squadron were somehow a threat.

“This is Red Leader. Who's still with me?”

“Red One here.” It was goalkeeper Simon Bakewell.

“Red Five has your wing.” Johnny looked around. Micky Elliot was flying alongside, as reliable as ever.

“Red Two—you don't get away that easily,” said Ash.

“Red Nine, ready to kick more alien butt,” said Joe Pennant. Johnny smiled.

“Red Eight, right behind you, Blondie,” said Owen from the school year below.

Johnny waited for more to check in, but the silence showed him his little squadron was down to half a dozen ships. It had to be enough. Wherever they were in the battle, he hoped Dave, Naresh and the others were OK.

“Good going, Red Squadron,” he said. “Let's spread out and tell ET we're here.” Either side, Starfighters peeled away into a looser formation. “On my mark.” Johnny's hand hovered over the only actual button on his dashboard, added just an hour or so earlier. The voice in his head screamed at him not to press it. He hesitated, his hand wavering, but then forced the word, “Mark,” from his lips and pushed down hard with one hand on top of the other.

His scanners lit up like a Christmas tree, which meant the Krun's must have done exactly the same. The hope was that the hugely amplified power signatures they'd added
would convince the Queen's escort that six gigantic Imperial Starcruisers had just unfolded nearby—and that they had to give chase. It looked to be working. The barrier around the Queen's ship was breaking up as the Destroyers moved to eradicate the new threat. They were converging on the remnants of Red Squadron, who would have to move very fast.

“This is Johnny,” he said, abandoning the call sign to speak to his friends. “Get as close as you can to Point Zero and then get out of there twice as fast.” This time, he thought,
Forward, full acceleration
, and shot toward the designated coordinates.

Even if the plan worked, his fighters simply didn't have the firepower to do enough damage to the Destroyers. But Johnny knew just the ship who did. He reached the place quickly. Dozens of the gigantic Krun ships were bearing down on him. All he had to do was give the command, but the words refused to leave his mouth. Instead, he heard another voice inside his head.

“
You belong to me, Johnny Mackintosh. Stay silent. Turn your ship around and come to me—let me feast on you.
”

As the huge black vessels surrounded the remnants of Johnny's squadron, green energy bolts tore through them, crippling one ship and vaporizing two others. He had to shut the Queen out. Again Johnny forced himself to think of Clara, on the
Spirit of London
. The image of his sister formed a wall around his thoughts. She existed in stasis, outside of time, but now was the time he had to act.

“Now, Sol,” said Johnny. The words came in a whisper, and the effort to speak them was immense, but he knew at once they'd been heard.

The sparkling curves of the
Spirit of London
unfolded nearby. As she fired, it was as if his beautiful ship was casting a vast net of gold into space, so many energy beams were
shooting out at once. Outnumbered more than a hundred to one, Johnny hoped Sol, and those she carried, would be OK.

“
You cannot resist me, Johnny Mackintosh. I will control you.
”

He closed his mind to the voice. “Red Leader to Black Leader,” he said, “send the first wave.” Now was the time to begin the real assault. The way looked clear for the Corporation Battlecruisers to head straight toward the giant vessel holding the Krun Queen. Appearances though could prove deceptive—especially where the Krun were concerned. That was why he was holding back a second squadron—the final line of defense for Earth. All these ships were armed with the Corporation's hyperspatial gravimetric charges, which he'd ordered specially tuned to destroy the Queen's ship.

“Negative,” came the voice through the comm. system. “All ships launching together.”

“No,” said Johnny, trying to sound calm, “stick to the plan.”

A third, female, voice cut in—one Johnny knew only too well. It was Colonel Hartman. “You have your orders, Squadron Leader. I expect you to carry them out.”

The relief Johnny felt didn't last long. He saw from his Starfighter's sensors that whatever orders the leader of Black Squadron was following, they weren't his. Distracted, he allowed Krun blaster fire to graze his wing. Too late to act, he heard the cockpit alarm that signaled an enemy target lock. Directly ahead, a swarm of alien spheres was about to unleash green death. Then, coming in from the side, golden energy beams from an Atlantean ship ripped through the Krun vessels, turning them into one fireball after another. There was a whoop in Johnny's earphones, followed by Micky Elliot shouting, “Get in! Five nothing to the good guys.” A craft with red markings streaked through the fireball and beyond, just before Johnny's own Starfighter did the same. Elsewhere, Earth's
fighters were scoring similar successes. Johnny couldn't help smile and even wondered if Stevens was aboard any of the exploding Krun ships.

The
Spirit of London
was decimating the Destroyers, firing in every direction, somehow protecting any stricken Earth vessels at the same time. Perhaps the Corporation was right and the aliens had left nothing in reserve, no hidden ships to fold into the fray. All the while the vast Atlantean Starcruiser, commandeered by Colonel Hartman, had been noticeable by its absence, hanging back from the battle. Now even that moved forward to join the
Spirit of London
and fired on a couple of the larger black enemy craft. The twinkling stars of hyperspatial gravimetric torpedoes enveloped their targets in a blaze of light. It was almost too good to be true, but it was amazing to see what could be accomplished when humanity worked together. With the Atlantean fleet in charge, a new golden age for Earth looked to be possible. As the
Spirit of London
continued firing, the Starfighter's sensors showed the very last Krun Destroyers winking out of existence, leaving only their short-range spheres and, on the very edge of the display, the ship belonging to the Queen.

In his head Johnny heard her scream with fury, but the sound was drowned out by his own cheer. “Brilliant, Sol,” he shouted, punching the air.

“All achieved with minimal shielding,” the ship replied. “Full offensive capability while maintaining Clara's tachyon field left little in reserve.”

What followed seemed to happen in slow motion. The narrow space between Colonel Hartman's Starcruiser and the
Spirit of London
sparkled as a volley of glittering torpedoes, fired from the flank of the Corporation vessel, slammed into the clear curved sides of Johnny's own. The lights from inside his beautiful ship blinked and went out. He hadn't even been
aware of Sol's presence in the very back of his mind, but Johnny sensed immediately that she was no longer there. The mighty craft hung deathly still, as if teetering on the edge of an abyss, and then began tumbling, nose over tail, toward the Moon.

A great howl of anger filled the cockpit and it was a few seconds before Johnny realized it was his own scream of rage. At the same time he was aware of a woman's voice coming through the comm. system, laughing.

“Oh, come on, Johnny,” said Colonel Hartman. “Don't pretend you weren't about to do exactly the same to me and my rather handsome flagship. It's your bad luck I heard my opportunity and took it. You should have kept your communications more secure.”

He was so angry he couldn't speak.

“Cat got your tongue?” The colonel switched to the main comm. channel. “This is Hartman to all Earth vessels. I have assumed command and am releasing new orders. Destroy all alien fighters, but do not engage their mother ship. The Krun Queen will be useful to us going forward. Further, any Earth vessels not following the chain of command should be met with deadly force. Hartman out.”

Johnny stared out of the cockpit at the faraway explosions in disbelief. Closer at hand, the
Spirit of London
continued somersaulting toward the cratered gray world below.

“Johnny! Do something.”

Louise's golden Atlantean fighter buzzed Johnny, tearing after the stricken ship and bringing him to his senses. He willed the Starfighter to follow and it surged toward the Moon at breathtaking speed, overtaking the Atlantean craft.

“Sol, can you hear me?” Johnny asked, but his cries were met by silence. He drew alongside the
Spirit of London
, tumbling a few thousand meters above the lunar surface. The ship looked
completely dead, the only lights reflections of distant stars off her diamond-paneled hull as she fell Moonward.

Then he heard barking, the desperate sound of two dogs. Johnny looked around, wondering where the noise could have come from before realizing he was in range through his wristcom. He lifted it to his mouth and said, “It's Johnny—can anyone hear me? Alf? Sol? Kovac?”

“If you're planning on saving me, I suggest you do something sooner rather than later,” said Kovac.

“What's your status?” asked Johnny.

“My status is that I'm being tossed around this tin can like a toy car in a washing machine. Make it stop.”

“How?”

“Am I the only one capable of performing several quadrillion calculations a second? Don't answer that. Just position yourself under this brainless skyscraper's nosecone and I'll transmit instructions to your ship's computer.”

“What?” Johnny wasn't at all sure that was a good idea.

“You need to stop us spinning,” said Kovac. “Tell that Louise girl to fly her ship under the tail. In case you haven't noticed, we're about to crash into the Moon so it would help if you hurried.”

“Tell that quantum box thingy I already heard him,” said Louise, “and I don't like it.”

“Me neither,” said Johnny, but if it was the only way to save Sol and everyone inside her, they had to try. “Here goes.” He willed the Starfighter to begin looping a tight loop, while falling toward the Moon's surface, matching his rotation with that of the
Spirit of London
. He'd never been more glad of the inertial dampeners.