Star Soldier

well be destroyed if something wasn’t done fast to counteract such a tragedy.

Reluctant, enraged, baffled, Grand Admiral Cassius ordered an antimatter strike in near space.

Bombs sped almost instantly from the Genghis Khan and detonated just as fast. Killing EMP surges washed over the Doom Stars and down at the merculites racing up. Hundreds of orbital fighters and the remaining interceptors died in the antimatter blasts. Thousands of Highborn aboard the Genghis Khan perished or they would die in hours or days from poisoning. Social Unity had never managed to strike such a savage blow before.

The antimatter blasts gave the Genghis Khan the time she needed. The Julius Caesar finally hove into position. Her anti-missiles and more importantly her heavy beams blew up the next flight of merculites. And now the million-ton rocks entered the stratosphere.

“Scum!” roared Cassius. “Animals! Eat this!”

19.

Cheers filled the command center as the Genghis Khan broke off. Men leaped to their feet and hugged one another. The Highborn weren’t invincible. They could be beaten after all.

Space Commander Shell rose to his feet and squared his shoulders as he took off his hat and placed it over his heart. Air Marshal Ulrich slapped him on the back. “Brave lads.”

“The best,” whispered Shell.

General James Hawthorne glared at screen after screen.

“Sir!” shouted a staff officer.

Hawthorne strode to him and gaped at what he saw. It looked like a meteorite. “Where’s it targeted?”

“Beijing, sir.”

The cheers died as men turned to look at the TV screens.

“Hong Kong!” shouted another man, pointing at his screen and the vast meteorite it showed.

“Taipei!”

“Manila!”

“Shanghai!”

“What do we have that can stop them?” shouted Hawthorne.

Space Commander Shell shook his head. Air Marshal Ulrich was speechless. There was nothing.

“What about nukes, sir,” suggested a staff officer.

“Target the Beijing meteorite with nukes!” shouted Hawthorne. “Now!”

A staff officer shouted orders.

On screen, the meteorites streaked toward Earth, the proton beams washing them unable to destroy enough of them to matter.

“Sir! We need Lord Director Enkov’s authorization to launch nuclear weapons!”

“Raise him,” snapped Hawthorne. “You, order them to launch regardless of authorization, on my authority.” Hawthorne found himself spun around to face the captain of the bionic men.

“Belay that order,” the bionic man said.

“Look at the screen!” shouted Hawthorne. “Unless I destroy that meteorite Beijing will be obliterated, and so will the other cities. Then Enkov will die. I don’t think he’s going to thank you for that.”

”Lord Director Enkov,” corrected the bionic man.

“You fool!”

The pressure on Hawthorne’s arm increased painfully. In moments, the bone would break. “Listen to me.” Then it felt as if his bone creaked in complaint. The bone felt like a piece of lumber under terrific pressure.

“Cancel my order,” whispered Hawthorne.

The staff officer said, “But, sir—” A bionic guard put a gun against that man’s ribs. “Yes, sir,” said the staff officer.

In the rest of the command center, the other bionic security men along the walls trained their carbines on the staff officers. A massacre of debilitating proportions seemed only seconds away.

“I beg you to listen to me,” Hawthorne told the bionic captain. “We have—”

“Impact in thirty seconds, sir!”

Hawthorne turned from the shouting staff officer and stared into the bionic man’s eyes. It was difficult to think with that bone-crushing grip on his arm. The bionic man didn’t seem to be straining at all. Briefly, Hawthorne wondered why they didn’t create an army of these bionic men. Then he had to use all his concentration in order to form his words. He said, “Your loyalty and obedience is impeccable, but surely you can see that we must save the Lord Director’s life, not to mention our capital.”

A sour smile creased the bionic captain’s lips. “Disobedience is not allowed. Termination is the result, both yours and mine. I refuse to be terminated.”

“Look at the screen.”

“Yes, unfortunate.”

“Are you willing that the Lord Director should perish?”

“Obedience is mandatory.”

“Look,” said Hawthorne, trying to turn and look at the screen.

“Negative,” said the bionic man, using his infinitely greater strength to keep Hawthorne from turning.

“Ten seconds!”

“I have to order a nuclear strike,” General Hawthorne shouted.

“Eight seconds, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… impact.”

From the various screens, bright glares filled the room. The seconds ticked by. Then a rumble, a quake, caused the underground bunker to quiver. Soon the shockwave passed.

“Beijing is gone,” whispered a man.

The bionic man released General Hawthorne.

Hawthorne staggered away from the bionic captain. The general gingerly massaged his biceps and wondered if his arm was permanently damaged.

“Manila, gone. Taipei, gone. Vladivostok—”

“Now what, sir?”

General Hawthorne tried to collect himself. It was difficult. The scale of death was… millions, no, maybe a billion dead. He couldn’t visualize it. His chest threatened to lock up as his heart hammered.

“The Julius Caesar is entering low-Earth orbit, sir, the stratosphere. And the Genghis Khan seems to have turned around. It’s coming back.”

General Hawthorne looked up. The Doom Stars filled the screen, part of the Genghis Khan a mass of smoking wreckage.

“We badly hurt one of them,” whispered Ulrich.

General Hawthorne squinted. The main brunt of the amphibious assault had yet to be touched by the Highborn. Was it possible to snatch victory from this… this… could one call a billion deaths a mere blow?

“Lord Director Enkov on line seven, sir.”

“He’s alive?” General Hawthorne asked in amazement.

Before he could say more the bionic captain hustled him to line seven. There he saw the haggard, angry face of Lord Director Enkov. No doubt, the Lord Director was already looking for a scapegoat. General Hawthorne had few illusions about who that would be.

20.

Murderous gun-battles raged in the merculite missile station. The last of the Kamikazes, Samurais, rocket engineers, hastily trained civilians and ex-police officers refused to surrender. They fought with whatever tools