Not wanting to miss the hunt, the fleet around the asteroid field turned to intercept their escape route and quickly covered the distance. The Sigians started evasive actions—a far cry from the abilities of the enemy armada—while the grays launched several waves of nuclear charges at them. But no matter what they did, most of the Sigians managed to get through the deadly net.
The god-Gill looked at the unfolding drama with his hearts broken. Where are they going to run? Even if they fly to Sigia, will they find anything on arrival? They’ll be forced to surrender or die in the dark coldness of space. The ones who didn’t leave the sky cities are the lucky ones.
Then, predictably, disaster struck: the grays resumed their approach to one of the platforms and synchronized their fire on the pylons holding the structure. Their laser beams, together with a couple of nuclear charges—much brighter in the dense atmosphere—smashed them easily, despite their redoubtable strength.
Ariga’s star was rising above the area. Like every morning, its rays caressed the huge domes, whirling iridescent rainbows along the sparkling walls. But this time, the magic of the dawn only lasted for a few moments. In solemn silence, the huge city started to fall. At first slowly, then faster and faster, it inexorably approached the planet’s surface. The tall towers broke apart almost immediately, leaving a trail of debris behind, while the purple domes survived until the terrible impact with the methane sea. During the fall, the city’s platform listed, hitting the sea at a sharp angle. A huge tidal wave, over a mile high, rose on the surface of the water.
As soon as the air escaped from the shattered buildings, a huge explosion lit the hydrocarbons, and a fire mushroom rose up to the orbit, blowing away the smog around the impact site.
The gray fleet, taking note of the city’s destruction, moved away to the next one. It was already too much for Gill’s crew. Even though they could do little to save the others, no one wanted to keep looking at the slaughter from a safe distance.
“We’re synchronized,” exclaimed someone in a cold, metallic voice.
The smell of war permeated the ship’s bridge. Soldiers with murderous looks on their faces and strange instruments floating close-by hopped in the battle cockpits, aware that their time was over. A Sigian—very old, judging by his wrinkles—appeared on the screen. He was an important and respected leader, the shared memory told him. Gill didn’t understand the rank, apparently some sort of fleet commander or maybe a war strategist. When the alien spoke, he understood everything like it was Antyran.
The Sigian barely mumbled his words. Soon, it became obvious he was overcome with relief to see them coming.
“You… you came! I lost hope of seeing your arrival, Kirk’an! I thought everything was lost!” he exclaimed euphorically.
A silent question rose in the god-Gill’s kyi. The old Sigian’s joy didn’t seem appropriate for the situation. Everything was lost, regardless of their presence there. Did the Torres base hold the illusion that their destroyer could somehow change the fate of such an uneven battle? Which was lost already since the defenders had all but quit fighting.
“Deko, we came as fast as we could. I’m sorry to find you like this,” the ship commander murmured, holding his head in his palms. With difficulty, he continued, “We’re ready to join the shadows.”
Deko turned his eyes to see something on his right. Answering an unspoken question, the display wall split in two, and Gill saw the gray fleet attacking. On the hydrocarbon planet, another huge flame rose to the sky.
“Emporya is gone…” the old Sigian sighed heavily.
There was a brief moment of tense silence.
“Let’s get over this!” he said, trying to sound upbeat, as if nothing happened. “Kirk’an, I’m so glad you made it! You’re going to save our world!”
The soldiers on Gill’s ship exchanged startled looks, beginning to question Deko’s mental health. After all, who could keep his sanity in such circumstances?
“Yes!” continued Deko, ignoring the effect of his words. “I ordered everyone to fight till the end to give you time to arrive. They died, but you’re here!”
“And how’s that going to help?” exclaimed Kirk’an with despair. “We’ve lost the war!”
“We may have lost this war, but we’ll win the next one!”
“You’re insane!” Kirk’an seemed about to shout. The reverence he held for his companion must have stopped him from saying it aloud, though. Instead, he shook his head incredulously:
“There’s no other war. There’ll be no one left to fight it.”
“Ahh, but here’s where you’re wrong, my dear commander. It will be up to you,” Deko smiled.
“What can I do?” exclaimed Kirk’an. “How…”
He paused, trying to discover if the nearby enemies had noticed their approach.
“They found you or will do it soon,” said Deko. “And the neural probes will tell them the rest. You’ll get a package and then have to run. Run like no other Sigian has run before.”
“Run from the battle? What kind of foul words are these?” exclaimed one of the soldiers on the bridge, without hiding his disgust.
“You will take everything we gathered till now—all our culture and technology, along with five million Sigian eggs ready to be hatched in incubators! You’ll have millions of spores, seeds, and animal eggs as well. With these, you’ll rebirth us somewhere else!”
The god of the bracelet didn’t want to run; as a soldier, his place was on the battlefield and not hidden like a coward in the darkness of space. The idea of them surviving their world ending was grotesque.
“On which planet do you think we can hide?” asked Kirk’an. “One of the primitive worlds in our sector? Should we fly to Antyra?”
Antyra! The gods knew about his world! Gill’s hearts started pumping wildly, close to breaking his chest wall. Even more remarkable, they called it by its native name. Antyra, in the same universe with Sigia—and even close-by, since the aliens thought about flying there! And they were able to traverse the Antyran firewall at will!
“Sooner or later, Antyra’s going to be attacked, too. Their ruler, Raman, united them, and our enemies don’t like them united, even so primitive. You won’t have time to build a colony there before they wipe it out.”
The Sigian tragedy happened during Raman’s years, before the sons of Zhan burned the ancient Antyran cities with their godly weapons! And before Beramis stretched his fire belly around the Antyran star system!
“Do you think Mapu is a better choice?”
“You won’t get away with it. They already have agents on the planet.”
“What’s the plan, then? Did you find an uninhabited world?” Kirk’an exclaimed, confused.
“No, and we didn’t search for one, either. We found something better. We figured that just as our worlds developed in the sector, others have to exist in Lliktakha.”
Gill didn’t understand the last word because there was no correspondent in the Antyran language. Still, from the god’s visual representation, he realized that Deko meant the ribbon of millions of stars he saw on the ship’s display wall. The “house of stars,” Lliktakha.
“Don’t tell me you found—” the commander exploded.
“Yes, Kirk’an!” exclaimed the old Sigian, grinning with all his teeth. “We found them!”
The news stunned everyone. Even though it came too late to save their planets, the implications were huge.
“We burned most of our j-tubes26 to build the largest tachyon detector ever conceived! You won’t believe its size. We risked everything on this.”