SAW 1: Stars at War (7 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Star System Dalon, Viron Empire Core

Planet Dalon's World, Viron Administrative Capital

Parade Street, Outside the Capitol Building

6 days later…

T
he trip itself
down to the planet turned out to be uneventful for Admiral Prancort.

When the scouts detected that the snake fleet wasn’t going
to attack another planet, Prancort’s immediate thought was that the invasion
could be over. The snakes must have decided they’d taken too much damage and
couldn’t justify more damage to its fleet.

Everyone, including Prancort, leapt in happiness in response
to the news.

When the word of it reached Dalon’s World, the president,
Jinho Hyun, immediately requested Prancort return to the capital, where he
would be awarded many metals befitting his actions. Prancort, realizing the
snake threat seemed to be over, at least…temporarily…so he agreed.

Therefore, for the past three hours, Prancort patiently
waited as his shuttle descended through the cloud banks onto the star port,
outlying the capital city of Haven’s Glas. When he got out, he was showered
with applause. Two entire platoons of marines parade marched him through the
city’s center, as part of an morale boosting planetary event, broadcasted on
live holo throughout the empire.

Thus, before he knew it, Admiral Prancort found himself
walking through miles of city streets, until he finally reached Parade Street,
which lay directly outside the Capitol Building, where President Hyun and many
political dignitaries awaited him with metals prepared to be strapped on his
chest.

"Admiral Prancort! Admiral Prancort!" a young
female’s voice sounded through the crowds.

On both sides, the crowds showered Prancort with glittering
flowers. The colors of the Imperial flag flew at full banner on all sides of
Parade Street. Red and Green, the stars of destruction and life.

"Welcome home, legendary admiral!" waved President
Jinho Hyun, who stood directly ahead with a wide smile.

“You’re on national TV. Smile back and wave to the
president,” reminded the Marine colonel.

Prancort, embarrassed, waved back.

There seemed to be so much applause, so much! He felt he
didn't deserve it. The hysterical crowds to his left and right jammed to see
him. The Viron Main Hall, the center of government for 25 billion humans, stood
tall and vast ahead of him.

"It's the fleet admiral!"

"Oh, let me through, I want to see him in real life!"
someone yelled.

"Admiral Prancort, will you marry me?"

"People! People!" the General Secretariat called
out from beside Prancort, "You have to let him through. He can't shake the
President's hands if—Ooof!" Someone crashed into the general secretary.

Prancort barely saw a blur from the man who did it. The next
moment he was carrying the secretary through the crowds and the moment after
that he, too, was on the ground in a bleeding trance.

"Help!" someone yelled. "The admiral is
down!"

The world around him disappeared in a haze of colors,
flashes, and ominous sounds. He faintly recalled a doctor's voice yelling at
nurses, and teams of surgeons racing his body along on a stretcher. He’d been
unconscious most of the time, and minutes could have been hours or days. Time
occasionally, slowed to a crawl, or passed by a week without him remembering
any of it.

Then—he dreamed—he dreamed so much.

One moment, he was in grade school.

Teachers told him what to do. School kids yelled and
screamed. Prancort quietly sat in the same classroom every day. He saw
friends…people he loved and passed on. People he hadn't seen in years.

Another moment, he was coming home from school. He stared
out of a gigantic train that zoomed at over five hundred kilometers per hour
past thousands of massive skyscrapers that went as high as the sky. His home
city bustled with life. Gigantic flashy signs in bright colors passed by as
Prancort pressed his nose onto the train's window.
How old was he? Twelve?
Thirteen?
He was a city kid. Everyone on the planet was a city kid.

Next, someone sat by him, someone he was familiar with.

Who was this girl? Eva? Lena?
He remembered her face.
A face he hadn't seen in decades. Olive skin, curled lips. They walked home
together after the train. Neighbors.

"Hey, Lena!" he called out inside the train.

Another second, he stood in a place with a lot of trees.
This was odd. His planet didn't have many trees, anymore, especially not in his
city. CO2 was recycled through oxygen plants. Then, he realized he wasn't on
the planet of his birth, anymore. He was in college—the space academy on
Gredor! Full of artificial trees, underneath a giant biodome.

He saw a redheaded teenager passing by him. Other cadets
trailed the red headed cadet like an idol.

"Who is that?" Prancort asked.

"That's Kirkeis, our leading cadet," someone
answered, "He is unbeatable in test simulations and he's class
valedictorian. His marks are record setting in the school's history."

Prancort glanced over at the source of that voice and saw
someone familiar.
Steiner!
He hadn't seen his roommate in years—ever
since they graduated! "I can beat Kirkeis," Prancort boasted.

"Sure you can…" Steiner grinned.

"No, I can, and I have. This is just a dream. You're
not real."

"Uh, huh," Steiner kept grinning.

I can beat him, can't I?
Is this too much to want?
Prancort was just a city boy from a megapolis world, defending his territory
from the snake onslaught, with okay grades, and a propensity to game too much.

Every day at the space academy, Prancort would spend time in
the simulation rooms, practicing tactics and strategy, preparing for the day
when he could beat Kirkeis. His war sim scores were average at first, but soon
they rose—and fast. His player-versus-player scores shot straight through the
roof. He became a rising star. "Legend killer" they called him.

"But not Kirkeis," they said. "Kirkeis will
beat this upstart. Kirkeis is invincible."

"You can't beat him! You can't beat him!" they
said.

I can beat him. I can beat him, right?

Who is that girl that always cheered for him? Genny?
Genie? Genee?

One day, on a fresh Monday morning, he fought Kirkeis.
Kirkeis was two years ahead of Prancort. The dreaded Kirkeis was in fourth
form, while Prancort was in second form.

After the game, Kirkeis came up to Prancort with a smile.
Prancort was dazzled by his opponent.

"You won, the title goes to the best competitor,"
said the red-headed Kirkeis. "When the snakes come, I wouldn't have it any
other way."

"Thank you, sir."

Kirkeis would later graduate and make a name out of himself
in the space navy, but so would Prancort.

The dream-world changed, again. He no longer stood on
campus, studying or practicing in his dormitory. He now walked the hallway of a
massive battle station—just like
Epsilon Decimus
.
Where am I going?

A door to his left slid open. A blast of recycled air mixed
with that stale odor of cigar smoke drifted through. "Come in, Captain
Prancort," a commanding voice prompted.

Prancort walked into the dark room. He saw four old men
staring back at him. They were his seniors and outranked him.

"Once in a while, we, the fleet, are blessed by a
gifted individual. Today, that gifted individual is you," said the admiral
sitting in the middle. "You have shown exceptional talent and keenness.
Therefore, we're promoting you. May your future actions reinforce our judgment.
May you bring the fleet excellence."

"I will, sir." Prancort eyed the middle admiral.
"I won't let you down."

The middle admiral nodded. "It doesn't matter. Because
you can't beat me! You can't beat me!"

Then the admiral suddenly shifted in form—the old man's body
elongated. Limbs formed on the sides of his torso. Two large mandibles appeared
where his lips were. The admiral became a centipede.

"I can—I can," Prancort stammered.

"You can't,"
click, click
—then it reached
out and bit Prancort.

Everything turned black. The dreams disappeared. Prancort
felt like he fell with a perpetual descent down to a bottomless pit.
What's
happening? Where am I going?

He fell and drop downward, out of control.

Forever.

I'm losing myself.

One moment, he was in the space academy,
again
.
Cadets crowded around him. Then, everything turned black and he would be
falling, again.

Next moment, he was inside a train, going home. The adults
crowded him. To his right, he saw Lena changing into a centipede.

Click. Click.

Everything turned black.

He fell again.

He was in homeroom, in grade school. Then, school kids ran
everywhere in a playground. Recess. Then, blackness.

He fell, again.

It's all disappearing! Why? Why? My dreams, my memories,
my life, they're all disappearing! Help me! Someone help me!

He kept falling.

Soon, he couldn't even think. His thoughts weren't his. He
had no thoughts.

I'm dying.

Everything disappeared, except the sound of mandibles
clicking.

Click. Click.

Blackness.

Star System Dalon, Core of the Viron Empire

Planet Dalon's World

Highguard Hospital Complex, Aquaria

Building E, VIP Floor, Intensive Care Unit

Room 001

"What's wrong with him?" Admiral Prion de Caille
asked.

"He's been infected with a neural-toxin, targeting the
brain," the hospital's lead doctor explained.

"Why hasn't the treatments been working? You are
treating him, right?"

"Of course, but the nanite toxin infecting him is
powerful. Whoever did this knew exactly how to contaminate him. Our best
medical nanites are having difficulty pushing it back. It keeps replicating,
while eating away at his neurons."

"How did someone manage to slide this through his
security?" demanded Prion.

"I don't know about his security details. But nano-contaminants
are very hard to detect."

Prion grabbed the bed girdling, eyeing the unconscious
Prancort, before her, dressed in hospital white with his eyes closed. This was
the wrong time to be unconscious. The world needed Prancort. The world needed
its fleet admiral now more than ever. Prion realized the tightness of her grip,
and loosened.

I must be picking up the habit from an old friend.
Prion
turned towards a lieutenant in the hospital room's doorway. "Put four
guards surrounding his room at all times. I want this room guarded. Take a
brigade of general Opheim's marines and guard all entrances to the hospital.
Nobody comes in or out without being scanned."

"Ma'am, but this is a major hospital! 30,000 people
enter and exit every day!"

"I don't want any buts, just do it! Take more if you
have to. On my orders."

"Yes—admiral," the lieutenant stammered. "But
is it—really necessary to guard the entire medical complex?"

"Yes, it is," Prion confirmed, wide-eyed.

"Perhaps, we can move him somewhere safer?"

"But then he won't get the best medical care."

"Maybe—we could move the doctors and—"

"Don't question my orders, Lieutenant! Just do
it!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"I have to go." Prion turned towards the doctor.
"I take you'll use every resource in your technological arsenal to make
sure he comes out of this alive...and well?"

"Yes, our whole hospital team is on it," said the
leading doctor, a wizened man in his fifties.

"Good. Use every resource in your disposal. If he dies,
we die. Got me?"

The doctor nodded.

Prion took one last look at the sleeping Prancort. She
wanted to touch him, but she worried it would betray her feelings, as well as
look awkward for her rank. She settled on speaking to him, "Good bye, old
friend. When I come back—if I come back, I hope you will have won one more
battle."

She walked out the room.

Star System Dalon, Core of the Viron Empire

Planet Dalon's World

In Transit towards the Starport

Sitting inside her air car, Prion gazed out as the
metropolis slid past her. Since Prancort’s attempted assassination, she was now
a full admiral, with a full security detachment. Two squad cars in front of
her…Two squad cars behind her. Her driver, a marine captain named Luis
Carpender, stoically maneuvered the car through the city's turbulent air
traffic.

Damn the president! If the president had barred
bystanders from touching the admiral, none of this would have happened
. But
the President's PO people had suggested they let bystanders touch their hero as
a way to increase the man's popularity and national morale, and President Hyun
had relented.

If the president hadn't been so slack in his security, even
after checking each human in the crowd for conventional weapons, Admiral
Prancort wouldn't be in his condition now.

Prion crossed her legs. How in the hell did the damn
terrorists—the damn activists who wanted humanity to lose, so all humans would
be space born—how did they know they could successfully sneak a bio-weapon?

After the incident, the president's security details
detained all the bystanders.
Yet, they still hadn't found the culprit!
Prion rubbed her brow. With all the latest and advanced lie-detector techs, the
president's security still haven't found him!

The problem turned out to be during the admiral's ‘walk of
victory’, there were so many people who touched him. Any number of people could
have infected him with the nano-toxin. It was also likely the culprit could
have walked away as much as ten minutes before the admiral even collapsed.