from plumes of dark smoke rising around the city. Birds similar to seagulls circled overhead in vast flocks, waiting to dine on dead flesh.
He saw something even more interesting than birds up there. Trevor narrowed his eyes and focused on the dirigible hanging in the evening air over the city. Its main gun had been quiet for several minutes, ever since a fighter plane riddled its firing mechanism with bullets.
Now a metal catwalk extended from the blimp’s command module to provide access to the gun. A trio of pale-skinned Geryon technicians worked vigorously on the array.
He was not the only one to spot the repairers. The last remaining rocket-jet finished a sweep over the city skyline and made an almost suicidal lunge toward the bow of the juggernaut. Its nose-cone gun fired, causing sparks along the length of the undercarriage.
The plane never finished its run. An anti-air battery scored a perfect hit. The fighter died in a bright burst of flame and smoke, its pulverized pieces drifted in the wind like confetti.
At that point, the dirigible’s energy weapon returned to service. A fresh stream of plasma pummeled the city below firing so hurriedly and haphazardly that most of its destructive power was wasted on buildings, not invading troops.
Nonetheless, that beam ended the lives of a dozen more Chaktaw soldiers only a few yards ahead of Trevor and Nina. He felt the urge to dismount and find cover but guessed their escort would not allow it.
As the battleship recharged its weapon, Trevor saw that Geryons might yet turn the tide of the battle, and it caused a lump in his throat.
The roof of one of the large rectangular buildings retracted. It appeared that these buildings were, in fact, hangers. A second Geryon zeppelin ascended to the sky, the blimps to either side of the main fuselage inflating and expanding as it gained altitude. The rear propeller chugged to life.
Both of the zeppelins fired their main weapons at the same time.
The first’s slammed to the surface again, causing a brilliant light and ripping apart walls and melting roofs all while obliterating Chaktaw infantry. Before it could do even more damage, the second dirigible's main gun slammed into the first battleship, slicing across the air and skewer the lead ship. The thick line of plasma entered through the first’s rear propeller, cut across the main balloon, and continued off toward the horizon where at some distant point the beam lost cohesion and dissipated.
The same could be described of the stricken air ship. It fell to pieces from the inside out. No secondary explosions; the energy weapon claimed all the destructive glory for itself.
Unlike the battleship he destroyed at the lake, this one died nearly in an instant with little wreckage, the energy weapon evaporating all but the most stubborn bulkheads, struts, and supports.
Before he could fully appreciate that victory, the sound of additional destruction pulled his eyes in another direction. From his vantage point, he saw the circular top of the Geryon’s main building. Flashes came from inside that structure, then the walls blasted out destroying the Geryon command center and leaving behind an inferno.
The city by the sea belonged to the Chaktaw once more.
– Sporadic fighting continued through the night because the Geryons had nowhere to retreat and the Chaktaw accepted no surrender.
Fromm established his command post on the southern end of town inside one of the sagging, crumbling, but gigantic dock halls. Trevor and Nina spent the night under casual guard in a corner there, listening to the scattered sounds of gun fire and explosions. Still, the gentle sound of the lapping ocean waters outside their quarters-some kind of office-managed to create a small sense of serenity.
In the morning, Jaff escorted them to Fromm at his post in the main chamber of the massive building. The ceiling reached two hundred feet high but neglect led to cracks allowing bits of morning sun to streak in. A huge door on one end of the chamber stood closed but, when open, allowed access to the sea and Trevor saw why.
Gently swaying in a pool of water inside the hall waited a magnificent vehicle. Trevor thought it one part clipper and one part ark with vertical tubes rising from the brown hull, probably housing retracted sails.
Judging by its size, Trevor guessed it required a crew of dozens while a hundred or more men or beasts could travel in its belly. He did not know if it served more the purpose of transport or as a Man-O-War, but he figured it could probably act in either role.
It was, however, in a bad state. Some boards along the hull had warped and sprung loose and the superstructure-a series of compartments with sharp edges and a wide, sweeping bridge-showed signs of damage from both battle and time.
Fortunately, despite a long occupation the Geryons never bothered to dispose of the relic. Perhaps-again- because they did not give proper consideration to water craft. Whatever the case, the Geryons or another of the invading races would some day rue the occupiers' failure to sink the thing. Trevor saw Chaktaw engineers already hard at work on this boat and he knew there to be six more huge dock halls potentially housing similar ships.
Trevor turned his attention to the trappings of Fromm’s makeshift command post. He saw desks and tables, computer terminals that resembled 1990s vintage PCs, and communications gear, as well as portable generators, all arranged along the inside wall atop a stretch of cracked concrete floor.
Bangs and clangs from repairmen tools competed with the chirps of computing machines, the crackle of radio traffic, and the murmur of conversations for Trevor's ear. The huge space inside the dock hall gave each of those noises its own echo.
Jaff separated Trevor from Major Forest and led him to a table around which stood Fromm and his lieutenants, their battle ponchos discarded for simple tunics with little or no markings of rank.
As Trevor joined the gathering, he saw a map on the table and recognized what on his world would have been the northeast coast line of North America as evident by the curl of Cape Cod and the unmistakable stretch of Long Island.
He waited patiently and in silence as the Chaktaw commanders pointed, discussed, waved their arms, and shook fists at unseen enemies. After much debate, Fromm stopped the cross talk and spoke in firm, determined words.
Trevor could not decipher the language and Jaff did not translate, but he understood that Fromm issued orders to his most trusted officers the way Trevor gave direction to Brewer, Stonewall, and Shepherd.
Reverend Johnny?
As the Chaktaw leader spoke, he moved his gaze from comrade to comrade, finding their eyes and giving some of his strength to them in a glance.
It boggled his mind to realize that across parallel universes similar leaders gave similar orders to what remained of their resistance movements. On his world that leader was himself, a human. Here it was Fromm of the Chaktaw. Somewhere else a Centaurian, a Feranite, a Hivvan, and more. Eight universes in all with eight different Earths hosting eight different civilizations under siege.
Fromm finished his orders and dismissed his commanders and spoke to Trevor Stone with Jaff translating. The somewhat friendly, less guarded tone of recent days disappeared, replaced with a threatening tone.
'This is our city again. Many more of our cities wait to be reclaimed. That was my intention, to retake all of what was ours. But you have changed my plans. Now I must go on this errand to the Ring of Ice. If what you say is true, then it will be a worthy cause. Before we depart, you must know this is your last chance to admit to deception. Tell me now if you lie and I will spare your lives. But if we go and find nothing then you will suffer terribly.'
Fromm hovered, waiting for Trevor to respond.
'I speak the truth. I will take you to the runes. Once they are yours, the gateways that have brought the invaders to your planet will be shut off. Their supplies and reinforcements will be no more. On my Earth, this changed the balance of power and has allowed my armies to conquer much of what we had lost.'
Fromm listened to the translation without taking his hazel and green eyes from Trevor. The Chaktaw breathed deeply, a sign of agitation born from the unexpected twist impacting Fromm’s meticulously prepared battle plans.
Trevor remembered how difficult it had been to gather the resources and manpower to send Brewer’s task force north while still carrying on the struggle against the Hivvans to the south. But he had found a way. Now Fromm had to find a way and he had to find that way now because, Trevor knew, at that moment the other alien races mustered expeditions to race for the runes, just as had occurred on his Earth.
