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.
Fromm accepted Trevor’s word.
"We depart today."
– Trevor had hoped that the mode of transport would be one of the fantastic sea vessels harbored in the dock halls. However, taking the stolen Geryon battleship was, of course, a much better choice. It offered plenty of firepower and could hold the fifty soldiers and dozen Behemoths that formed Fromm’s expeditionary force.
Nonetheless, Trevor caught a glimpse of the sailing vessels as they eased forth from their long-neglected dens and slid out to sea.
Standing on the gondola's command deck with Major Forest and his armed escort at his side, Trevor spared a glance down at that the liberated city as the zeppelin gained altitude and turned north.
He saw the Chaktaw ships escape their confinement. As they cleared their moorings, beautiful golden sales unfurled from the vertical masts and turbine-like engines rose from the deck.
First one, then two, then four moving together in a fleet, their bows set on points south, gaining speed at an impressive yet graceful pace as they carried the Chaktaw crusade of liberation to other points around this Earth.
After several seconds, the sails disappeared from Trevor’s view as the dirigible set its sights to the northeast.
To the Arctic Circle; to the Ring of Ice.
To the way home.
32. Infraction
The massive battleship floated above the ocean traveling north by northeast. The rear rotor provided propulsion but more from a stream of magnetic energy funneled through the prop than from the spinning fans. Trevor did not understand exactly how the system pushed the blimp along, but he appreciated the smooth ride nonetheless.
Inside, metallic panels, thick bulkheads, and grated walkways along tight corridors conveyed a heartless but sturdy feel. This helped Trevor enjoy the flight despite having witnessed two of the things blasted from the air since coming to this Earth.
Given the confines of the halls and rooms, the Behemoths were relegated to the larger landing bays which they shared with a squad of dormant Golems. They fed on slabs of Husker meat and slept in piles of straw shoveled onboard prior to departure. After a few hours in the air, a rather pungent aroma escaped the hangers and gave the ship a barn-like scent.