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Interzeit: A Space Opera Page 2


  “Surely we’ve moved past real hostility, right Clara?” Nol asks, “They won’t do anything rash.”

  “No,” she answered, “I don’t think they will, although it can sometimes be hard to predict the actions of nations by the feelings of their people.”

  “I’m going to sleep,” she gave him a thin hug, “Try to get some too, you’re going to go work with your crew tomorrow right?”

  “Yeah,” he rubbed his face, “We’ve increased our install speed by a lot, should mean good things for our efficiency rating.”

  Clara smiled wistfully, and disappeared back into her technocave of a room.

  Nol watched more uselessly speculative broadcasts, falling into an uneasy sleep.

  The dreamless night melted into a new day. Nol’s alarm sounded and he shook awake. Quickly he changes into fresh clothes and heads out the door.

  The air is crisp, wind kicking sharp gusts of cold into his squinting sleepy eyes. He knew he should be thinking about work, about prepping his mental state to reading the calibration reports of the smartwire install systems. Still the night lingered on his mind.

  The terrestrial systems had initially been the victors of games for many decades. The reformed Moon Operations Bureau, known as the Lunar Protectorate had the furthest edge with the Skyking mech series. They won the first several matches with ease.

  The edge didn’t last forever though. A group of colonies at the edge of the inner system called TianShanTech won the fourth game. The Federated Colonies of Mars took the title next, then the Protectorate had a slight rebound with the Skyking III.

  However the young Kuipterra finally entered the seventh game, making a huge splash with its innovative emitter laser and beam technology. Ever since their entry, they had never lost a single match...until now.

  The Kuipterran’s interest lay primarily in space, perhaps to the benefit of Earth, as things in-between them and their goals were often “handled” quite precisely.

  Coming in over the region’s public network, a notification hit his sleeve

  “Seek Shelter, possible terrorist incident occurring.”

  Nol’s stomach dropped, he dipped into a nearby alleyway and tried to find more information. The ground shuddered under him with tremendous force. He leaned into the wall, flecks of aluminum and mortar rained down on him. Distinctive booms caused further quakes. Fire and smoke rose up into the sky, overtaking the high towers and buildings.

  The distressing cacophony continued, Nol frantically searched the net huddled in the back street. Little was known on the net, until eventually someone opened a video cast.

  The neighboring district of Turiazon was burning. Three giant grey mechs crashed through the region, knocking buildings down, and shredding city blocks to rubble with their machine guns.

  Jets screamed in from the nearest reserve airfield. They peppered the mechs with missiles, but were unable to hit them effectively in the thick urban environments.

  As their strafing run came too close, a craft went down, clipped by the machine guns, crashing into a puff of fire.

  The others broke off, shooting and scrambling at a distance.

  The vidcast looked upwards, at a large object entering the lower atmosphere. Shocked, Nol dropped what he was doing and ran out of the alley. Squinting through the bright morning sun he saw it. A burning mass of metal, its signature ring of blast shields enveloped it like a cloak.

  The Skyking was descending to Earth.

  He pinged the company, he wasn’t coming in. Nol ran home, when he arrived a new message hits his ionics. The general evacuation order was declared for all nearby regions.

  “Clara! Clara get out out here!” He yelled at her door. She cracked it open sleepily,

  “What?” she asked with frustration.

  “There’s an invasion! We have to leave now!”

  Her eyes widen, she grabs her glasses, bag, and runs for the door.

  They pour through the streets. The pair sprints out to a main expressway, when they run separate ways.

  “Where are you going?” Nol yells, “That’s towards the attack.”

  She smiled trying not to laugh, laughing like he was the crazy one.

  “What?” She looked confused, “Come on, this might be our only chance.”

  “To die maybe!” He yells angrily

  She cocks her head, “To see them, to seem them up close.”

  Her smile burned in, that stupid grin one makes before acting stupid.

  “Don’t you flip out on me right now!” Nol shouted.

  She sprinted her own way, “Sorry!”

  Nol grit his teeth, furious. He walked away, changes his mind, and then changes it back. After more frustrated indecision, he finally runs after her, swearing to murder her himself among other things.

  Nol’s composure weakens quickly. His lungs fill with sharp needles. He can’t catch her, its several minutes before he even sees her again. Halfway across the bridge to Turiazon, Nol finds her leaning against a rail.

  The concussions of the carnage swing the bridge, Clara laughs in nervous fear.

  “What are you doing?” Nol pants angrily.

  “Waiting?” she points to the sky. As she does Skyking reveals itself. The pod like array of re-entry shields flicks open into a chaotic formation of wings. They pull on the wind creating drag, and its front rockets engage.

  The powerful thrust stabilizes the fall, and the giant crashes into the city.

  “That’s…not what I meant.” Not protested against her in awe.

  Skyking’s armor white, and shining in the sun was awe-inspiring. It grabbed one of the grey mechs and rip it off the ground like a bird of prey. Skyking tosses the machine high. Floating under it, they pull out a large rifle, firing a powerful purple ray. The mech detonates. The explosion is small, then something sets off, the next blast dwarfs it by a magnitude of ten.

  The blast wave slams Skyking to the ground, buildings crumble, and the bridge bends and twists in unnatural terrifying ways.

  “Come on!” Clara grabs his hand, and drags him towards the havoc. Nol resists, but several cables snap behind them, and convince him otherwise. They make it no worse for wear across the bridge, while it violently shakes itself apart. The world around them is crumbling, on fire, or exploding. They look around frantically, frozen in panic.

  “There!” Clara points to a three story building by the water.

  They run along the shoreline, she stops them before they go inside. Clara fiddles with her bag, pulling out a ball drone. She gets a running start and hurls it into the air. It falls then clicks on, buzzing up over the building.

  She pilots it remotely with her wrist, “Here!” She throws the vidscreen up and expands it.

  Over the buildings Skyking is chasing the other two mechs through the city. Back in the air, it tries to swoop in. The mechs fire back, but their weak guns can’t deter the Skyking.

  Despite their apparent ineffectiveness, they are tearing deeper and deeper into the city. A large super urban area, the city core, would be nearly impossible to evacuate. A fountain overflowing with life, crashing glass, and fire reign down on it.

  Skyking snatches up a second mech, carrying it off, but the remainder is left free.

  The airforce cannot impede its deathly march, it blasts its gun into the city core.

  Horrified, Nol feels his stomach turn, he looks at Clara, her faces reads with a strange emotion, almost blank, but focused. Blank for a reason, an escape, or a purpose.

  “Clara we have to go, its too dangerous!”

  “Don’t be such a coward! We have to find a way to fight back.”

  “There’s no way we can do that now.” Nol is exasperate, his nerves completely fried, “Y-you’re going to get us both killed out here.”

  The grey mech continues its slog through the core of Turiazon, razing everything in its path.

  “Do you know where it’s headed?” She asked.

  “Its just killing people, its not headed anywhere.”

  “You’re wrong,” The sky trembles with the second mech detonating high in the atmosphere.

  Clara waves her hand, the screen morphs and an overlay of buildings and blueprints falls over the video feed. Several wireline structures stand free of their destroyed real world counterparts. It is an abstract, a what was, what could be, but not what is.

  Several buildings stand in its way. The wireline diagrams fade away one by one, revealing one wireframe behind them all. A dome, partly underground, gigantic in stature.

  “A fusion reactor…” Nol muttered,

  “So you see,” Clara says, “Its already too late for us to run anywhere.”

  In the sky more burning objects come ripping through the atmosphere, the large cruisers of The Protectorate. They were thick heavy things, how they stayed in the air at all was a mystery. Tall and thin, jets shot from all direction to keep the Titans from tilting or falling over.

  The final grey mech arrives at the reactor. It fires point blank into the shielding exterior. Large fractures and cracks developed as the thick concrete is chipped away. Skyking shines in the background, it hurtles back towards the scene, slowly growing nearer and larger.

  The grey mech keeps firing until its gun clicks empty. It throws the weapon, smashing it into the buildings. Its shoulder plates eject off of it, clattering away, and a large rocket emerges out of the silo of its metal arm.

  It emerges fully and points at the reactor.

  “We’ve gotta get inside,” Nol grabs Clara, dragging her into the building, The rocket powers up and they frantically search the hotel lobby. They find a maintenance stair well, wasting no time, they sprint down as far as they can get.

  Suddenly a metal arm rips through the grey mech, Clara stops dead, watch
ing the feed in awe. Nol stops and watches as well.

  Skyking punched clean through its torso, decimating the cockpit in the process.

  “Ah thank you!” Clara screams, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Suddenly the missile fires, and explodes smashing into the reactor.

  The fire rises, and then the reactor blows. Everything around it is incinerated, the feed cuts.

  Nol grabs his sister, and they jump down the stair well. They scream as they fall, the world around them shatters and shakes in terrible force. The screaming is destroyed like everything else, and then there is nothing left. Nothing, deadly burning reigns over the entire city.

  Chapter 2

  It plays and plays. Over and over the moment continues happening. In his sleep, in his thoughts, on his screens…Maxelus stands triumphant, and then the rail explodes through him. It carries with it everything he had hoped for.

  A dream of victory, a life he had planned for himself, peace, honor, and strength. He’s been refusing outside contact since the fateful moment. Locked away in his garden manor he broods and sulks. There have been several dozen knocks at his door. Well wishers, grievers, comrades, friends, family, and most enragingly, officials.

  Opportunistic slime, taking the moment to show respect in an attempt to move up the hierarchy. The “never let a good crisis go to waste” filth.

  He hears his uncle at his door once again. His large fist pounds the metal with the rhythmic 2/4 taps that he’s known all his life.

  He’s turned him away thrice before, but now no longer. He relents, and opens the way. The metal doors slide open with a pneumatic wish. He enters still wearing his courtly robe. The red and purple gaudiness, the colors of the Calatian family.

  He turns his back on his uncle without a word, sitting on a bench in the garden. His uncle does not address him immediately, His uncle can be many different things depending on what the situation calls for, this moment in particular, he is timid and deft.

  His uncle circles the garden, head down, hands behind his back. Counting tiles or steps, contemplative and calm. After five such circles, he slowly takes a seat beside his nephew. He draws for his words several times before they finally arrive in the best order.

  “Septis…” He begins, “Your brother was the most honorable man I have ever met. I loved him, as I know you loved him. His death is so tragic, I weep with you, our nation weeps with you.”

  “And of father?” Septis asks,

  “Your father is strong, a man of steel will and resolve. But he is still human at his core, as we all are. He carries on, as is his duty, but I know him as you know him. He hides now, hides away behind those steel walls, hiding that grieving father from the world.

  His is the most painful role of any of us, he must be strong for the whole world. The man must suffer alone so the cabinet may hold strong.”

  “Our rule has been benign Paizo, has it not? Why would the terrestrials plot such crude treachery on us?”

  “Humanity fears what it does not understand. It wishes to hide the truth we represent, or destroy it if they can.”

  “And shall we let them steal away the global cabinet from us?” Septis asks

  “The issue becomes more complicated by the hour.” His uncle says, “The courts were in deep deliberation. The rule was clear as the Martian Federation puts forth, however, many under our loyalty argued that it was a deliberate maneuver, a trap from the beginning.”

  Septis squeezes his fist, his translucent skin show the white/gray of his knuckle bones.

  “They will see the truth in this, I have faith.”

  “I am inclined to believe you Prince, but I bring news that darkens the future, and clouds our vision.”

  Septis jumps to his feet, his sheer red cloak ripples and flows behind him. He begins pacing in a manner not dissimilar to his uncle.

  “What news do you bring dear Uncle?” He says

  “Early in the last solar day, there was a terrorist attack in Eurasia. Three mechs hit the city by surprise. Millions were killed when a fusion reactor was detonated during the ensuing attack.”

  Septis pauses, his face scrunches in remorse, “What times are these Paizo?”

  “It gets worse I’m afraid,” Paizo says, “The accusation of blame has fallen on our shoulders. Many believe we have retaliated for the mistreatment in the games.”

  “Preposterous!” Septis yells, “Father would never authorize such a foolish deed.”

  “Quite right Septis,” He agrees, “I’ve been spending the entire morning interrogating our high command and covert military corps, not a trace of dissent or terrorism among any of them.”

  “What proof have they of this heinous crime?”

  “None as I know, but the passions of Earth burn strong, they demand justice.”

  “What of the Martians? Are they heading the investigation, who leads with the cabinet in flux?”

  “It is early still,” Paizo soothes, “As you say, things are in flux. In this chaos perhaps there is opportunity.”

  “There is wisdom in your words Paizo.” The prince remarks, “Is the Mark II operational?”

  “Soon, but it is not ready. We must avoid confrontation if possible, for now we must show the people, the house of Calatian can lead.”

  “Agreed,” Septis says, “I will travel to Earth, my father will be too busy with the Cabinet to be of much use. I will aid the Earthlings, there will be justice, I can feel it burning in my chest. Assemble my retinue, and prepare the Nazer for departure.”

  “My lord,” Paizo bows as the Prince exits the garden.

  Prince Septis withdraws to his inner chambers. He adorns his red flexsuit, it adjusts to his body in its pre-programmed way, and its status diagnostics complete. Over it he throws his black cloak, trimmed in gold on the edges.

  There is one last thing he must do before he can depart. Something he has been avoiding since that fateful moment. It plays again involuntarily. The glowing beam sword held high, the betrayal, the explosion.

  Maxelus’s quarters are the same as they were when he departed. An obsessive reader, holo units, and old books lay strewn across the parlor chamber in a chaotic brilliance. Several still open, already deeply scavenged. Knowledge hard won and lost.

  In his bedroom, Septis opens his wardrobe. It is there as Maxelus left it. The golden wreath, a circlet of leaves crafted from a special alloy of gold and iridium. It shines with a base of gold, but refracts and bends to every known color given light.

  Septis places the circlet on his head. It is heavy. There can be no turning back now, he has accepted the role. First son, prince, and heir, he is now charged with his people, as they are with him. The two are now intertwined, a permanent union, until death do come.

  …

  The prince and his entourage drift into low orbit aboard the solar cruiser Nazer. One of a rough dozen in its kind, it resembles the Tetraphaedrome in form and function, although a mere fraction of its size. Unusual and spikey, it is formed of two sleek shiny tetrahedrons, merged together into a star pattern.

  The prince reviews the briefing prepared by Paizo’s agents. At solar hour 16:35 the mechs were spotted emerging from the Bosphorus by security drones. Automated air defense reacted shortly after they entered the city, with limited success. The civilian gendarme evacuated the surrounding area, and an estimated 34% of the main core of Turiazon.

  The Lunar Protectorate launched the orbital security fleet at 16:40 sh. Skyking IV was launched ahead of the main fleet as expected. Based on early estimates from the Protectorate’s engineering corp, Skyking was at 40% operational capacity. Little is known about its state during the launch. It arrived at 16:46 and engaged the hostile targets.

  The main fusion reactor for the region was detonated at 16:59, leveling most of the region, and any remaining population.

  Pilot Naraku Wakahisa is confirmed dead, and the Skyking has also been destroyed in the process. Early causality estimates range from 5-10 million, with up to 8 million dead.

  The Eurasian council arrived at the planetary cabinet at 20:32 sh. Talks are presumed ongoing, representatives from the Lunar Protectorate and Federated Colonies of Mars have been spotted within the cabinet, their arrival and activities still not well documented.

  Septis drops the report, letting it dissolve into light and pixels. He leaves his garden and walks to the bridge contemplating. No mention of their implication yet, perhaps Paizo’s news had been premature, either that or the report was out of date. All in all, it was a miserable series of events, draining, he tried to keep his focus on the matter at hand.