Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (24 page)

It was still at least an hour before daybreak when Jumper was awakened by Kayla’s turning in the hammock. He decided to get up and check on Alan.

Alan was sleeping soundly. Jumper couldn’t tell if his skin had returned to normal color in the dark, but his breathing sounded okay. At least he was getting some bed rest.

When Jumper came out of Alan’s hut, he noticed the light from Cardinal-4 shining brightly in the southern sky. Uncle Brandon was still up there for some reason. Jumper wished he would return. Brandon would probably know how to help Alan more than these red Sheen did.

The space station suddenly surged with an intensified brightness. Jumper figured it for his imagination. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

It wasn’t his imagination. Cardinal-4 had exploded in bright white light. The huge flash then shot out a flare of light that reached partway across the sky. Jumper felt sick to his stomach. Had Cardinal-4 just blown up? Please, please don’t still be there Uncle Brandon.

The flare retracted back into the great ball of light, and then the station resumed its normal luminance. Cardinal-4 was apparently still there. But something had happened to it. Jumper took off running through the village.

Not many others were milling about at this hour. Jumper made his way through the shacks and fire pits quickly. He saw a few red Sheen cooking and preparing the morning food carts, and some of those aliens with the strange blinking helmets standing around talking. They all turned their heads when Jumper sped by.

Belle-ub was standing in front of the parked shuttles at the edge of the village, by himself, looking at the sky. He called to Jumper as he passed, but Jumper ignored him and continued to Brandon’s shuttle. He opened the cockpit door from the copilot’s side and climbed inside.

There was his lightpad, right where he left it in the console between the front seats. He activated it from the side-button. The empty space inside the frame lit up with the touch-sensitive light field and then the video screen came on.

The news headlines were all about Banor coming under attack from an alien satellite of some kind. Military and civilian targets were being hit by a powerful weapon. Casualties and damage on the ground were piling up rapidly. None of the reported damage included any of the Earth colonies yet, and there was nothing about the light explosion at Cardinal-4.

Jumper scanned his inbox. There was a message from his dad, but that’s all. He would have to read that later. Jumper quickly composed a new message to Brandon, consisting of three words:
you all right?

“A major battle was fought above our heads while you slept,” a voice outside the open cockpit door said. It was Belle-ub. He had followed Jumper to the shuttle.

Jumper looked down on him. “What do you know about it? Is the space station okay? Who attacked us?”

“I have my suspicions as to the identity of the attackers, but will not convey those without confirmation. The space station appears to be intact. I assume you witnessed the light weapon?”

“What light weapon? I saw the flash across the sky come out of Cardinal-4. Is that what you’re talking about?”

“Yes.”

“Who fired the light weapon?” Jumper asked.

“Someone on the side of Tora.”

“What’s the weapon?”

“A tremendous release of photon energy,” Belle-ub said. “It is a weapon of mass destruction, as you have just witnessed. Entire fleets can be destroyed in seconds.”

“Where did it come from? Is it a secret Torian technology?”

“No.” Belle-ub looked thoughtful as he continued to gaze at the sky. “As to its origin, I have my suspicions. But I will not convey those without—”

“Confirmation,” Jumper said. “All right. Do you think Cardinal-4 has been damaged?”

“Minimally at worst. You’re concerned about Brandon. I feel that he and his friends are all unharmed.”

“Man, I hope you’re right.” Jumper came out of the cockpit, closed the shuttle door, and walked with Belle-ub back to the village while refreshing the headlines on his lightpad repeatedly. New stories were being published fast. Jumper talked out loud as he read.

“The Banorian news says an enemy satellite attacked Banor with a devastating weapon, and it took them a long time to destroy it. But they finally did.”

“Yes,” Belle-ub said. “And the light weapon that came from Cardinal-4 destroyed a significant portion of the attacking fleet, no doubt. I imagine the rest have fled, and our system is now safe again.”

Jumper looked at Belle-ub. “You mean as safe as it gets with nineteen different alien races here, some of whom are warring?”

“Safer than you make it sound.”

“Is that because of the weapon you possess?” Jumper asked. “I saw it in action yesterday.”

Belle-ub cocked his head. “Weapon? Erob, no. That is simply a peace-keeping device. It has done no harm to any, and has in fact prevented bloodshed. It is something which makes it possible to play host to nineteen different alien races, some of whom are warring.”

Jumper looked back at his lightpad. No return message from Brandon yet.

“So,” Jumper said, “you still plan on holding your tournament, even in the wake of war?”

“The tournament is necessary to
prevent
war.” Belle-ub pointed out to the valley. “All these races would soon be killing each other, not just the ones who are presently bickering. The games will alter their focus. We will do battle at the arena and a victor will emerge. They will then all return to their homes to concentrate on training for the next tournament—instead of plotting wars and rushing to destroy one another in space.”

Jumper snickered. “I expect the Banorian military may now have something to say about all this, after having suffered losses in a sudden alien attack. You might just get a visit from the High General today to tell you to cancel the tournament and send everyone home.”

“I see you are reasonably skilled in deductive reasoning, in addition to your physical conditioning. You should make a formidable opponent in the arena. Yes, you are correct. I expect a visit from the High General today with the intention of stopping the tournament. He does not hold any such power over us, fortunately. But his visit should be …interesting. Have you thought any more about entering?”

“No,” Jumper said. “And I’m not convinced you’ll be able to stave off the edicts of the Banorian military, especially when they’re fuming mad.”

“Then today should be an educational day for you, Jumper. Listen. I have come to like you. As you probably know, a new C3 alliance has been formed, which I am the top seat of government for at the moment. We’ve made progress in negotiations with the industry captains on C4. Very soon, a new intercontinental government will be in place on Amulen. We seek representatives from each region and race. It is my opinion that you would be the ideal candidate to speak for the Amulen Earthlings in the new council.”

Jumper thought for a second before responding.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Uncle Brandon says the leaders which emerge from the kind of condition Amulen is in are usually oppressive. And I don’t like these work contracts I hear about in the agritents. If that’s any indication—”

“Then be a voice which speaks for the ideals you believe in. That’s what a representative in a council does. As far as the agritent work contracts go, this is something which takes time to alter. Food production needs must be met in the meantime. But, you already know one way you can attempt to do something about that immediately. An objective voice which sits idly by and does nothing but be heard is not usually instrumental in affecting any change in the subject it objects over. I am offering you a rare opportunity—and privilege—in inviting you to represent your colony in the new council. Please consider it carefully.”

The night sky was beginning to show signs of turning to early morning gray light. Jumper wanted to try and get a little more sleep. Belle-ub must have had the same idea, as he left Jumper to enter a hut.

“Belle-ub,” Jumper said. Belle-ub stopped in the doorway and turned around.

“I’ll do it. Play, I mean, at least. If you manage to keep the tournament from being cancelled, I’ll play as the Earthling champion.”

Belle-ub smiled and nodded before vanishing into the interior of the hut.

*

“Wait here please,” Mip7 said. “I’ll arrange things.” He left Brandon and Olut6 alone in the upper lounge.

“It’s not like Mip7 to keep secrets from us,” Brandon said. He turned on his lightpad. They had stopped at the REEP bunker on their way up, where Olut6 was briefed on the current military situation and Brandon retrieved his lightpad. All was quiet at the moment. Brandon was relieved to learn that none of the Earth colonies had been fired upon by the alien attack satellite. Olut6 issued orders and then came up the lift with Mip7 and Brandon, albeit begrudgingly.

“No, and it’s not good for a politician’s career to keep military secrets from the military,” Olut6 replied.

Brandon laughed. “You know he’s no politician. He was given this position as a courtesy. No one else wanted it. He’s hardly more than a steward, and a construction project foreman.”

“He may find himself less than that if I don’t get satisfactory answers.”

“How satisfactory is this answer?” Brandon said. “The enemy is defeated and Cardinal-4 is still here. Hmm. I have a lot of messages. I better let everyone know I’m okay.”

“Extat Brandon, I’m the Torian High General. Yes, I’m positively giddy over winning the battle, saving the space station, and putting an end to the destruction on Banor. But I’m also perfectly irate over the lack of information I have; important military intelligence that everyone in Tora seems to possess except for its military commander. I have no idea who attacked us or why, but somebody in Tora sure as Erob knows, I’ll tell you that. The enemy was defeated by an unknown weapon fired from this station we’re sitting in, which I command—and I have zero knowledge of it. Now the governor tells me he has some secret visitor who might be able to explain it. Then there are all those extat alien races in orbit over Amulen—none of whom came to our aide—and I don’t even know who or how many they are. You can’t properly handle defense matters when you’re lacking basic intelligence like this. I’ve got dead pilots, civilian casualties, destroyed spacecraft, and who knows how much property damage to have to go survey on Banor. Worst of all, I’m dead tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Brandon said. He looked up from his lightpad to the bar. “Too bad the bar isn’t open. I could really go for an argim right now.”

“You must be joking.” Olut6 walked back behind the bar, found two mugs, and filled them. Brandon smiled and sat down on one side of a comfortable booth to reply to his messages. Olut6 came back with their drinks and sat opposite of him.

“There’s another security issue I have to get to the bottom of, too,” Olut6 said.

“Whatever it is, I’ll bet it’s on Amulen.” Brandon took a long, refreshing drink of argim.

“Of course it is. Some other unknown weapon or device that’s been reported coming from that extat Belle-ub’s camp. Knocks all weapons systems out and sends spacecraft navigation systems screwy. Apparently, it stopped the Latians dead in their tracks when they tried to attack the Dirgs in the atmosphere over C3. Too bad about that.”

“Well that’s interesting,” Brandon said. “I suppose you’ll have try and pry that information out of Belle-ub. He figures to be busy the next few days, though.”

“Not that busy after I get through with him.” Olut6 paused, chugged down his glass of argim, and then continued. “If he thinks he gets to hold his extat tournament now, after all this, he’s holding on to some serious delusions.”

“How are you going to stop him?” Brandon asked. “He doesn’t recognize your authority. What are you going to do, invade his camp with ground troops and risk igniting further interstellar hostilities?”

“I can’t have Amulen seceding from the Torian union and instituting policies that put Banor and Cardinal-4 in danger. Maybe I’ll knock down that new arena of his you told me about, so they’ll have no place to play.”

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Brandon said. “Besides, if he can jam up weapons systems and keep them from firing, you’d have to do it from the ground. Now we’re talking civil war, in addition to provoking who knows how many other alien races against Banor.”

“That tournament he intends on holding is a threat to everyone. I plan on stopping it, one way or another.”

“So you’re going down there to talk to him?”

“Yes. And I’m planning a monologue, not a dialogue. This I have to do while postponing my response to a summons from the Banorian Chancellor. He’s not going to be happy about me making him wait.” Olut6 stretched out and lay down on his side of the booth. “I just need to …close my eyes here a minute.”

“Good,” Brandon said. “You can give me a ride. I need to pick up the kids and get back to RL-71.”

Olut6 didn’t answer. He looked somewhat comfortable. Brandon finished his argim, turned off his lightpad, and stretched out on his side of the booth in like manner. Resting his eyes for a minute sounded like a good idea.

They both woke up five hours later. Brandon was groggy and Olut6 was angry.

“Why didn’t the governor wake us?” Olut6 said.

Brandon pointed to the booth next to them in the lounge. “That’s why.”

Mip7 was asleep in that booth, but stirring from the noise of Brandon and Olut6 talking. They woke him up. Mip7 got them all a cup of coffee from the bar.

“All right, where is this special guest of yours?” Olut6 said. “I have things to do today.”

“Deck 70.” Mip7 pointed to the ceiling. “In the adjoining conference rooms, waiting for us.”

“He must have the patience of a Sheen,” Brandon said.

Mip7 smiled. “Yes, he does, in fact.”

Brandon cocked his head.

They refilled their coffees and Mip7 poured an extra one to take with them. They rode the lift to Deck70, made their way to the adjoining conference rooms, and entered into one side of them.