Battle for Earth (39 page)

“My soul?” Johnny asked. “How? I don't understand.”

“But you will find a way,” she replied. “Go. We must both return home. You must awaken.”

They were walking hand in hand up the corridor, past the furry workmen who were tapping a new lining onto the walls with golden hammers. They had reached the “No Entry” sign.

“I'm not sure I can wake up,” Johnny said.

“Then I must help you,” the princess replied. She turned him toward her. Her face was coming closer. He could see the fine lines between the scales that covered her skin. Her long, forked tongue shot out and met his lips, forcing Johnny's mouth open. Zeta's eyes were now closed. He shut his own.

The hammering from the workmen was getting louder and Johnny couldn't shut it out. He opened his eyes and found himself in bed in his quarters aboard the
Spirit of London
. The banging was Sol, noisily trying to wake him. Johnny sat upright and said, “How long till the Krun get here?”

“Computing … the Krun fleet will reach Earth in 73 minutes, 20.508 seconds time, approximately,” said Sol.

Johnny was out of bed in a shot. He flung his Melanian clothes over his pajamas and flew into the corridor toward the elevators. Alf was apparently in the strategy room on deck 14, but it was to sickbay that Johnny ran first. Wearing flight overalls Louise was sitting in the single chair beside Clara, but moved aside as he entered. There was a soft pink glow coming from the bed on which his sister lay. The charts on the wall showed the lowest-ever readings, but at least they were steady. He took Clara's hand and squeezed. There was no response. Her eyes were shut tight and her golden locket, inlaid with crystals, lay flat and still against her pale skin.

He leaned forward and whispered, “You did it, Clara. We found the ships … and your garden.” Was it his imagination or had he felt a slight pressure on his hand?

“How is she?” he asked.

Louise forced a smile, but it was Sol who spoke. “Clara deteriorated rapidly after you left. By encasing her in a low-level tachyon field, I believe I have stabilized her.”

Johnny knew the energy drain for taking his sister outside normal time must be enormous for his ship to maintain. “Will she be OK?” he asked.

“While in stasis, I do not believe Clara's condition will worsen,” said the ship.

“Thanks,” said Johnny. At least his sister was in the best possible hands and he could focus on the Krun fleet—for now. He gave Clara's hand a final squeeze and stood up. “You ready for a space battle?” he said to Louise. She tried to respond, but no words came. Johnny understood—she looked the way he felt inside. “Come on,” he said. They left sickbay together and made their way to deck 14.

The doors to the strategy room swished open to reveal Alf and Kovac shouting at each other, with little Miss Harutunian battling to keep them apart. The American was making a surprisingly good fist of it.

“Just when things couldn't get any worse, here comes our glorious captain,” said the quantum computer, soaring away from the melee.

Ignoring Kovac, Alf turned to Johnny and said, “Our fighters are in position. We shall line up in a classical formation, passing parallel to the Krun Hunter-Killers as the enemy crosses the Moon's orbit.”

Beneath the mezzanine level, the battle plan was laid out. Two long lines of spaceships faced each other, slightly offset. The defenders of Earth were colored blue while the Krun invasion fleet was picked out in red.

“Such strategic cunning yields a probability of success of 2.71828%,” said Kovac, his casing glowing bright as he spat the words out.

“Kovac's right,” said Johnny, eyes fixed on the scene below rather than meeting Alf's. “We need a new plan.”

“Master Johnny—this is how battles have been fought for millennia.”

“Which is why we have to do things differently,” he replied. “We've no chance unless we surprise them.” He had
no experience of military strategy, but his history homework from long ago had always stayed with him—how Admiral Nelson had won at Trafalgar, by changing from these very tactics. Leaning over the balustrade, Johnny absorbed the setting for the approaching battle. At his command, Sol began repositioning the blue pieces. Soon, split into two groups, everything appeared as he wanted. “That should do it,” he said to himself, unable to resist a smile. “There's just enough time to make the modifications to my squadron.”

“With a brain the size of mine, I thought it impossible to be surprised,” said Kovac from above. “However, I do believe the strategy is optimal. The probability of success has risen to 31.4159%.”

“Is that all?” Johnny had hoped the new layout would give them a better chance than that.

He felt Alf's heavy arm on his shoulder. “The Emperor would be proud,” said the android, “but we do not know how well our ancient ships will fare and our pilots are inexperienced.”

“That's one way of putting it,” said Miss Harutunian.

“Come on. We've been running battle drills all afternoon,” said Louise. “We're old hands. Let's get to the fighters.” She looked pale but determined.

“You go,” said Johnny. “And Alf—your place is in sickbay. I need you to look after Clara. I have to address the fleet.”

Johnny could simply have spoken to Earth's newly assembled Starfighters from the strategy room, but he knew it was right that they saw him in the captain's chair on the spectacular bridge of the
Spirit of London
. Through the sides of the ship he watched the fleet of human spaceships zoom past and assume their newly allotted positions. He imagined Admiral Nelson on the deck of HMS
Victory
, his captains around him. When
Johnny spoke, his voice sounded louder and more confident than he'd expected.

“In five minutes' time, we go to war. I know this is new to all of you. If you're not scared, you should be. But if we all do our jobs, we will win the day. Not through weight of numbers—the enemy has more. Not because we're better pilots—for most of you, this is the first day you've flown a spaceship. To triumph in this battle, the secret is to destroy the Krun Queen.”

“
You cannot hurt me, Johnny Mackintosh. I am part of you now.
”

Johnny stopped and looked around for the source of the voice. There was nothing. He had to assume only he had heard the interruption. If the Queen was truly inside his head, he had to block her out. He needed a single, strong image to concentrate on. He thought of Clara, picturing her encased within the stasis field in sickbay. His sister at the very forefront of his mind, he carried on.

“These aliens we're fighting have a hive mind, a sort of telepathy. Destroy the Queen and their communications will break down. That's why I've changed things. The Halader House squadrons will start out pretending to follow the original plan, flying parallel to and engaging the Krun Hunter-Killers. The rest of you—the Corporation ships—you'll hide in the Moon's craters until I give the word and then, in two waves, you'll try to break through the Krun lines. Head for the biggest, baddest ship you see and bring it down.

“Before we begin, I want everyone to stop and look at the planet in the distance. For most of you, it's the first time you'll have seen it from space. That's what we're fighting for. From here, Earth has no borders. We're not fighting for ourselves—we have to work together. When NASA astronauts first set foot on the Moon, it wasn't for America—they did it for all mankind. That's who we represent now. Let's make
our planet proud. Good luck, everyone. Johnny Mackintosh out.”

“Well said, Johnny.” Lights on a nearby screen flashed in time to Sol's voice.

Johnny stood. The voice in his head scared him, but there was nothing he could do about it now. “I have to go,” he said. “Look after Clara … and look after yourself. That Imperial Starfighter's fun, but it's just a plaything. It's not … It's not you.”

“Fight well, Johnny,” said Sol.

He turned and stepped into the elevator cabin.

Johnny had expected Louise to leave the dogs on the garden deck, but Bentley and Rusty were waiting for him beside the Starfighter. He knelt down, patted the red setter on the head and then turned to his oldest friend. He lifted the hair out of Bentley's face and stared into the sheepdog's one brown and one blue eye. “Who'd have thought it would come to this, eh?” he said. A long, rough tongue slopped across Johnny's face and he flung his arms around Bentley's neck, pulling him close.

“One minute until the Krun are in range.” Sol's words echoed around the shuttle deck.

“So long, Bents.” The sheepdog leapt up and tried to scramble into the Imperial ship, but Johnny caught hold of him around the middle and pulled him back. “Not this time,” he said, climbing inside and closing the cockpit before Bentley could try again. Moments later, despite the butterflies in his stomach, “Red Leader,” as he'd chosen to be called, shot out of the bay doors to take his place at the front of his squadron.

“Nice ship. You see—I told you he'd make it.” It was Joe Pennant's voice coming through the comm. system.

“So, this is where you got to when you were missing all those
matches?” The next speaker was the soccer team's captain, Micky Elliot.

“Sorry, skip,” said Johnny. “I had things to do.” He glanced either side and saw Dave and Ashvin just behind him at the front of the V-formation. Ash gave a thumbs-up while Dave saluted.

“This is Gold Leader.” Now it was Louise's voice inside the cockpit. She was in charge of the very same Atlantean ships that thirty thousand years earlier had escorted the
Spirit of London
into Atlantis. It would be down to the freckly girl from Yarnton Hill to lead the first wave of humanity's defense. Johnny had seen what an instinctive pilot she was—if anyone could keep their ships intact, it was her. “Let's get this show on the road,” she said.

There was no gentle preamble, no probing the enemy in search of weaknesses. It began at once. In the distance, a barrage of green flashes marked weapons fire from the lead Krun Hunter-Killers. Orange energy bolts responded as the fleets flew side by side in opposing directions. The midsize, heavily armed Krun spacecraft were bigger and more powerful, but Earth's fighters were more maneuverable and, despite being small, they carried quite a sting. There were mighty explosions. In the frenzy, Johnny couldn't tell whose ships had been destroyed, but black clouds of gas looked to be escaping into space from the alien vessels—it had to be a good sign.

“Red Leader to Blue Leader,” said Johnny. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Going in now.”

It was Miss Harutunian leading the second squadron, sounding icy calm.

Then it was Johnny's turn. “This is Red Leader,” he said. “Switch to new approach vector. Full shields, everyone, and use your automatic targeting systems—no heroics.”

He thought,
Forward, eighty percent acceleration
, and his ship rocketed ahead. Without the inertial dampeners his body would have been crushed instantly. Had he been alone, he wouldn't have held back, but he needed to ensure the rest of his squadron stayed with him—Johnny hoped they could keep up. At the tip of a flying V, he set his forward blasters to as wide a beam as possible, clearing a path for his squadron to cut across the Krun lines and encircle individual HKs, taking them out one by one. Immediately he was into the debris from the first wave of fighting. The voice in his head was screaming at him to stop … to switch sides and fire on his own ships. In a vessel run by thought control, Johnny felt paralyzed to act. He daren't try to block the Queen out, in case his brain settled on her commands.

Following his lead, the other Earth squadrons had broken formation. Away from the standard lines of a space battle, they were far harder for the Krun ships to target. A couple of whoops coming through the comm. system told Johnny that, even without his help, Earth forces were scoring successes and through the windshield he saw needle-pointed ships engulfed by massive explosions. Away from the regimented battle lines, the Atlantean ships were coming into their own, decimating the enemy. It was no wonder even these small craft were once feared halfway across the galaxy, as they brought down vessels a hundred times their size. The Krun had to react and smaller single-Krun pods swarmed from the nearest HK, all emerging as smooth round balls before sprouting deadly spikes. Soon space was thick with the miniature Krun ships, like a cloud of locusts darkening an already black sky. In seconds they were on him and began to settle on the Starfighter's wings and fuselage, their spikes burrowing into his hull, making them impossible to dislodge. Screams of terror were coming through the speakers, matched by small explosions outside in the battle. The Krun
pods were blowing themselves apart, taking the Earth ships with them. They were about to destroy his Starfighter. Johnny had to do something. It was instinctive. Without thinking, he placed a hand on the inner hull either side and sent a torrent of electricity through the shell of his craft, blue sparks meeting the black spheres, burning them off the outsides so the spiked pods spiraled lifeless into space.