Empire of Two Worlds

There was only one fighter aircraft left and it was hightailing it for the horizon. I decided to get back inside; the bulk of the cylinder was obscuring my view of the ground and I wanted to get a good look at the action.

Now that the air attack was over the longitudinal slot was gaping open again. I nodded to Bec as I came down, then peered over the rim of the slot.

The sloop had entered the fight at the right moment. The Rheattite infantry had pressed against the Meramite columns, which presented a disciplined diagonal array, and the battle-line had swiftly degenerated into a bloody scrum, contained on one side by the line of hills. Into the Rheattite reserves, from their exposed side and from the rear, plunged the sloop.

Grale was driving. The guns were manned by Rotrox we had previously trained, taking out some of the fittings so that they were able to squat on the floor and fit their ungainly bulk into the interior.

I estimated that the combatants numbered roughly ten thousand on each side. The effect of the sloop’s armoury on the massed Rheattites was devastating. The Jains and Hackers, as well as smaller portable repeaters fired through the gunslits, cut them down in hundreds. Grale drove recklessly, churning over piles of bodies to penetrate more deeply into the mass.

The Rheattites had nothing to fight back with, either. They piled up on one another, pushing in a mob to get away from the death-dealing machine. Further in the rear some of the more enterprising began to bring up heavier weapons using explosives; but we had already checked that out and knew they would have little effect: the explosives used on both Earth and Merame were of a crude, low-impact type. The sloop’s armour could take it.

Consternation and then panic began to spread through the Rheattite ranks. The appearance of this unfamiliar and apparently invincible weapon made a crack in their already shaky morale. Urged on by their officers, the Rotrox took the initiative and pressed the offensive, their fire-lances spitting cascades of hot metal into the green-skinned ranks. Steadily, inexorably, the long disciplined lines of extended lances advanced across the plain.

By now the Rheattites were beginning to mill up the slopes of the hills. For a moment it looked as though they would break; but somehow, miraculously, they held and began to reform, despite the continuing carnage wreaked by the sloop. The gunners had orders to keep killing until the ammunition was exhausted — which meant that, except for a few magazines cautiously kept safe in Blue Space Valley, we would be out of it altogether.

Then a new band of Rotrox appeared on a hilltop. These were not warriors, but technicians. With practised skill they erected a series of huge loudspeakers facing the battle-locked armies. A vast voice boomed out — a Rheattite voice, using a minion Bec had found:

“MEN OF RHEATT! THE DAY IS LOST — LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS! BLUE SPACE WILL BE ISSUED TO ALL WHO SURRENDER AND YOU WILL BE ALLOWED TO GO PEACEFULLY TO YOUR HOMES!”

The message was repeated again and again. At first it was ignored; then a few listened. Soon the temptation was spreading like fire. As Bec had gambled, thousands of the Rheattites were in fact badly in need of the drug. They had been prepared to fight in the hope of victory, but now that such hope seemed to be fading their will to resist was weak. Men came staggering up the hill, throwing away their weapons. Turning, I saw Imnitrin smiling his sinister smile.

“The rot begins!” he chimed. “I think the day is ours, brother Becmath.”

Bec and I glanced at one another. Despite our affiliation into the tribe, Imnitrin had refrained until now from using the term “brother”. Now, we knew, we were really in.

Down below the sloop fell silent, its magazines empty.

They took three thousand prisoners, thousands more fleeing.

The Rotrox herded them into a vast compound. The command vessel, from which Imnitrin had directed the battle, settled on a knoll overlooking the crowd. Around it was a dense ring of Rotrox soldiers.

“Are you really going to let these men go home with Blue Space?” I asked.

Imnitrin looked at me, his eyebrows lifted. “These are the more rebellious spirits of Rheatt. They will be a source of trouble while they live. A promise made to an enemy is not a promise.”

He gave a signal to an officer through the open side of the cylinder. The ring of soldiers opened fire into the dense mass with their flame-lances. The disarmed prisoners surged to and fro, screaming and groaning.

The mass murder went on apace, bringing an increasing stench of burned flesh.

I looked questioningly at Bec. He shrugged. So I didn’t think any more about it.

At the back of my mind I knew we were destroying a beautiful, delicate culture for a vicious, unbeautiful one. But my upbringing and experience had taught me full well that beauty and delicacy are not what count. Force and effectiveness were what counted.

Ten