The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

first provocation, however slight. If he moved too soon …

Valentin deployed as many soldiers as he deemed reasonable to fill out the crowd at this ridiculous ceremony. Including him, twenty-two. He ordered them to spread, creating the illusion of larger attendance. He feared James might delay the ceremony until hundreds attended.

“What’s the point of all this, brother?”

Five blocks into the slow-moving procession, Valentin quietly dispatched his final units to fill the gaps between the graviton weapon impact zones. If the Guard landed forces using standard ground-drop techniques, the secondary perimeter might capture sixty percent on a good day. The rest? Blast-rifle carnage. But if the Guard also took the direct route and released battalions in mid-air, relying on gravmod descent, the outer wall would splinter to fight a second front inside the city.

“Col. Joosten, enhance the proximity catalysts on the railguns. Raise the elevation bolts to enhance spread by twenty-five degrees. Eliminate all gaps between their target zones. Understood?”

“Adjusting now, Admiral.”

Two blocks shy of the amphitheater, Valentin revisited the order he dictated before the processional began then locked in a holding pattern. It was his worst-case order, a mandate only a few of his soldiers would follow without question, while the rest debated the merits or outright rejected it. The order went against everything they were taught since liberation. The shock of it might crush their ability to wage effective war against the Guard. But if all else failed …

“No,” he whispered. “Not if I can help it.”

He prayed Sam and Michael were right. Valentin needed the J’Hai to exact their million-year-old revenge.

They’ve been my family for three years.

He refused to fire on the hybrids unless they tried to unleash their Berserkers on immortals. If he slaughtered family without verifiable justification, Valentin would lose all credibility. Salvation’s death was guaranteed.

Michael sent a stream, despite orders to maintain silence unless contacted. Valentin responded through gritted teeth.

“Valentin. Anything?”

“No. What do you see from your end?”

“Light activity. A few hybrids preparing something. A stage, maybe? What’s happening?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. What’s wrong, Michael?”

“I thought we might have an issue, but it’s under control.”

“What issue?”

“Nothing. A little movement on the northern flank. Looks clear now. Probably your people. Look, Valentin. Serious question. What is the joule rate you use on the flash-peg proximity triggers?”

Valentin expected this sort of question from a newb.

“Nine five-oh. Highest setting.”

“Not true. Twelve hundred is the highest. I found the setting in an S-1 subsystem. I’m sending it your way. Valentin, tell the soldiers to set their rifles for rounds of paired blasts and lock in auto-targeting. We’ll double the body count in half the time. It’s like adding another five hundred soldiers for free.”

Valentin examined Michael’s data. How did he miss these steps?

He was embarrassed to receive the tip from a soldier who’d worn Salvation body armor for less than two hours, yet Valentin silently thanked Michael. He just hoped Michael kept his cool when he saw the final person in the approaching processional.

*

Michael didn’t know what happened to Maya. Nilsson shut down his military commlink, and Maya did not respond to three silent streams. Nonetheless, Michael detected four signatures on the city’s northern slope. He had to hope Nilsson valued the past few months. The Major was a tough leader but not a cold-blooded murderer, so far as Michael knew. The uncertainty gave him pause.

He contacted Valentin and delivered the data guaranteed to slaughter soldiers of the Guard in unprecedented numbers. Michael anticipated thousands arriving any moment. He might as well be mowing them down himself.

“I’m the worst kind of traitor,” he said. “Benedict Arnold’s got nothing on me.”

And he expected compassion from Maj. Nilsson? Why did he ever think sending Maya off on her own was smart?

Minutes passed.

Michael focused his convex gradient on a processional nearing the stage in a bowl-shaped, grassy clearing. The height of these beings was a dead giveaway, but the S1 readings showed a clear variation in their body aura. A type of composite energy. Non-human.

“Jewel energy. These assholes can be differentiated. That should come in handy. OK, James, you piece of shit. Where are you?”

He wasn’t close enough to establish a direct visual, but the giant near the rear seemed likely enough. Other signatures, all much smaller, surrounded the hybrids. Michael reached a conclusion: He was being handed a gift from the literal gods.

“Enough already,” he said. “Time to move in. Sorry, Valentin.”

*

The last time Sam visited this side of the city, she hid behind shrubs to watch James belch pompous, thunderous promises at Inauguration. The entire population watched. This time, the crowd was diminished, but the hybrids were no less enthusiastic. The men and their sons marched into the open amphitheater where their women and daughters awaited.

Sam looked over both shoulders and then behind. The long avenue stretched ten blocks, and it was empty.

Run. What’s the worst that can happen?

The children wouldn’t shoot in her back. Right?

James wouldn’t allow her the satisfaction of being atomized in a Berserker’s nuclear blast. No, they were going for something more impressive. A visual treat.

As the hybrids entered the bowl, a dozen or more soldiers in black and bronze took up positions to the flanks.

There she was, waiting on the stage.

The mad Cossack. Mother of the year.

Beside Rayna, a table featured flowers, fruits, and a large basin of water. Two hybrids – Dharma Goranson and Nya Pasqual – stood on the far side of the table. Their footlong knives shimmered in the sunlight. What did Rayna call this ceremony? Assignment? To sanctify the children with honor and morality?

The men and their sons stepped aside and took their places as if the event were rehearsed.

James pivoted to Sam and lorded over her, blocking the sun.

“As Ambassador