Warrior Chronicles 3: Warrior's Realm (28 page)

Kim had poured the three of them drinks, and Tsao paused to take a sip of the hot tea she offered him. “Thank you, Kimberly. General, until you and Bane broke through the wall there had not been even a microbe in that chamber since the quasar event.”

“Wait, Doc,” Cort interrupted, “Are you telling me that chamber has been untouched for a hundred million years?”

“Yes. That man died over ninety-seven million years ago.”

Cort thought out loud, “But without microbes, he never decayed.”

“That is almost correct, sir. The body did begin to decay before the gamma burst reached the planet. Based on the condition of the body, I would guess he died about twenty hours before the event. Because he was covered in dirt, the radiation from the burst did very little damage to the corpse.”

“Doctor,” Kim said, “What can you tell us about the man?”

“He was almost human. His genetic code shows two additional chromosomes, compared with humans.”

“So they look like humans, but are not,” Cort said.

“No sir, they are not. But they are compatible.”

“Compatible?” Kim asked.

“They could mate with humans, theoretically,” Tsao said.

“So they were anatomically similar as well.”

“You do not understand, Kimberly. Genetically, the species was so close to
homo sapiens
that the two could produce a sterile offspring, much like a mule hybrid produced from a horse and a donkey.”

“My gods.”

“Would you like to see him? I mean what he looked like?” Tsao pulled a table top holographic projector from his pocket, and placed it on the table.

“Yes, please,” Kim said.

Tsao touched the small, washer-like disk, and a thirty-centimeter image appeared between the three of them. The man that appeared was human, or at least he appeared to be. A projected scale beside the image showed him to be one-and-a-half meters tall, thin, gray-haired, and his skin had a weathered look that reminded Cort of nineteenth-century tintypes of elderly Native Americans.”

“That man lived a hard life,” Cort said.

“There had to be more of them, Doctor. What happened to the rest of his people?”

“I do not know yet. But I hope to find out, Kimberly. With your permission, I would like to ask a small team of colleagues to join my wife and me here. I have found more sites, and we need help.”

“How many more people do you need?” Kim responded.

“I would like to ask twenty to join us here. Truly, I need more, but I know of twenty that will respect your requirements without question, Kimberly.”

“Thank you for that consideration, Doctor. When they arrive, I would like to meet them.”

Tsao rose and said, “I will not take any more of your time, then. Thank you for your time, and for welcoming me into your home this evening.”

Just as they closed the door behind Tsao, Dalek made his voice heard. “Gods dammit!” Kim said.

“The perils of motherhood, Mrs. Addison.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Addison,” she replied as she bared a breast and walked to Dalek’s room. “You got yours.”

--

There were four hundred Marines at parade rest in front of Cort. Four hundred wolves wandered among the humans. Kim watched the group through Cort’s vid from her office above the Marine Academy parade ground. When he began to speak, she closed her eyes and just listened to him.

“You’ve done the easy part. You met my standards for becoming a part of the Wolfpack. Now the hard part begins. You must meet the standards of these wolves. For the next two weeks, you and the wolves will eat, sleep, and play together. All day, every day. With my help, each of you will be paired with a wolf. Once paired, you will spend the rest of your lives side by side. If one of you is injured beyond recovery, you will both be retired. If you lose your wolf to combat, you will become a trainer here until you bond with another. If you die, your wolf will be given the same opportunity.”

“After the two week bonding period, combat training will begin. That training will continue for the rest of your Marine careers.”

Sometime during his speech, Kimberly’s head fell to her chest. She was still in that position when Cort walked into her office and found her sleeping peacefully. He wrote her a quick note and took Dalek and Zandra with him to the parade ground to play with the other wolves. That night, when the four of them returned home, Cort found Kimberly in the kitchen making chicken fried steak and a starch mash. He kissed her neck and put his free arm around her waist. “How was your nap?”

“It was glorious. That was such a nice treat. Thank you, baby. How did the first day go?”

“Really well, I expect them to start pairing off tomorrow. I think some of the Marines were surprised at how powerful the wolves are. They should be combat ready in a few months.”

Sorano’s World

“It was six months ago that I last stood on this ground and fought beside the bravest men and women I have ever had the pleasure to serve with. We are here today to honor those Marines with the greatest praise that can be given a warrior. Their deaths brought peace.”

General Cortland Addison, military leader of the Ares Federation, and Protector General of the Government of the Collaboration of Species, addressed a live crowd of thousands, and his image was broadcast to trillions of beings across the galactic arm. Representatives of the voting members of the Collaborative were in the audience, as well as some family members of those who died, and most notably, H’uum and Heroc, representing the H’uuman Empire.

“But we do not just honor those of our own. We also honor our fallen enemies. For as surely as our warriors fought for our ideals, so did the warriors of the Cuplan Empire fight for theirs. Our enemy fought with the same grim determination that our warriors embody and I will remember them with pride, for it was against the anvil of their might that our mettle was tested and tempered. Without them, we would not stand here, ready to defend ourselves and our allies against the threats we will undoubtedly face in years to come.”

There were two long, curved, granite walls facing each other like great parentheses, encompassing the area where the main battle took place. The openings between the walls would view every sunrise and every sunset on the planet, year round. Far outside of them was a low, circular hedge that represented the blast area of the Alamo explosion. In the center of the granite walls was a single piercing beam of light that shot skyward. The area between the walls and the hedge was a wide grassy plain that bore only a single tree. The redwood sapling was brought from Earth, from Cort’s old gold claim in the Sierra Nevada mountains, and stood on the spot where he was found, buried beneath the rubble of battle.

“My hope is that there never need be another battle such as the one fought on this planet, but I know that as our many species grow and explore the galaxy, there
will
be more enemies. There will be more ideals, and there will be more warriors who are willing to die for them.”

Bane was beside Cort, ever alert, watching Kimberly and the other wolves. Dalek was finally peaceful. Until he heard Cort’s voice, he had been trying to assert his own. Once Cort started to speak though, the little boy was as rapt by the voice of his father as the audience around him was. Zandra was at Kimberly’s feet, with Coke beside the woman’s chair, between his alpha and Heroc. Within the arcs of the granite walls stood a company of Ares Marines, each one representing a human warrior that was lost that fateful day.

“When those warriors fall in battles yet to come, they will be remembered in this place. No matter where they are from, or what species they represent, both our own warriors and those of our valiant enemies will find their peace here. Sorano’s World will forever serve to remind us of both the cost of war, and its reward. We will be forever thankful for their sacrifice.”

When Cort was through with his speech, he engaged a few dignitaries before joining Kimberly. After kissing her, he took Dalek in his own arms, and they walked silently across the grass plain. When they found themselves at the redwood, Kimberly watched as Cort’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m glad I survived, I truly am. But I don’t know why I am always the one who does. Every day is a blessing, Kimberly and I know that, especially now.” He teased Dalek’s fingers with his own as he continued, “Lex and I talked about it once. He was worried about sending other people to their deaths with his mistakes. I said all the right things, and look at who he is now. But I can’t seem to accept my own advice.”

After a few minutes of silence he said, “I was very specific about where the tree was taken from. It’s from the spot where I spread Diane’s ashes.” The tears began rolling down his cheeks as he looked down at Dalek. Three hundred years her junior, every time Cort looked at Dalek, he thought of the child’s long dead sibling. Finally, when the tears began to diminish, he said, “I know it is stupid, and I don’t even believe in gods, the new ones or the old ones, but part of me hopes that a little part of Diane is in this tree. I suspect I will be forced to visit this place much more often than I will Earth, and I wanted some part of her near me.”

Kimberly knew there was nothing she could say to comfort Cort, so she just put her hand on his hip and leaned against his shoulder.
I promise you, Baby, I will bring another part of that place to Solitude. As long as I breathe, you will have Diane as close to you as Dalek and I and the wolves are.

They stood silently for several minutes before he kissed the top of Kimberly’s head and led his family back to the shuttle that would take them to the waiting
Mare’s Leg.

--

Ten thousand light years away, as Cort and his family walked across the grassy plain, two beings turned off the coverage of the ceremony and began to speak.

“Che, the memorial is beautiful, but it is missing something. I think we should offer a contribution to it.”

“What do you have in mind, sir?” Che asked.

“Humans call them tombstones.”

The End

About the Author

Shawn Jones was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He now writes in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, where he lives with his wife Lorelle, son Alex, and his dog, Dexter. An avid outdoorsman, he enjoys fishing, camping, hiking, and sailing.

Dedicated to Kaylynn Donita Jones. Though you are gone from me, you are always in my heart.

But someday. . .

Special thanks to Jonah Miller, the smart guy, and Tracy, the nitpicker.

Thanks to everyone who has encouraged me to follow my dreams.

Cover art:

Sharon Monson, [email protected]

Warrior’s Realm, Copyright 2014 by Shawn Jones. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without the written permission of the author except for brief quotations embodied in reviews.