Ben Bova - The Star Conquerors

by

BEN BOVA

Published by ReAnimus Press

Other books by Ben Bova:

The Exiles Trilogy

The Star Conquerors (Collectors' Edition)

The Star Conquerors (Standard Edition)

Colony

The Kinsman Saga

Vengeance of Orion

Orion in the Dying Time

Orion and the Conqueror

Orion Among the Stars

Star Watchmen

As on a Darkling Plain

The Winds of Altair

Test of Fire

The Starcrossed

To Save The Sun

The Weathermakers

The Dueling Machine

The Multiple Man

Escape!

Forward in Time

Maxwell's Demons

Twice Seven

The Astral Mirror

The Story of Light

Immortality

Space Travel - A Science Fiction Writer's Guide

The Craft of Writing Science Fiction that Sells

2011, 1959 by Ben Bova. All rights reserved.

http://ReAnimus.com/authors/benbova

Cover Art by Clay Hagebusch

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If youre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

~~~

I first met Geoffrey Knowland in the last hours of the Siege of Scandia. Of course, I did not know then who he was, or what he was to become.

The Saurian troops of the Masters had struck deep into the Terran Confederation, bypassing several planetary systems at the frontier to attack Scandia. They had appeared unexpectedly in great numbers and seized the three outer planets of the Scandian system before the Terran Star Watch could rush its forces to the area.

Now, for three weeks the battle had raged for the last remaining planet, Northolm, the only Earth-like planet in the Scandian system.

Despite the Star Watchs arrival and the savage defense by the Scandians themselves, the nonhuman warriors of the Masters remorselessly pressed their attack. Their space fleets gradually battled the outnumbered Star Watch ships back away from the planet so that the Saurians could land troops on Northolm at will, while the Terrans attempts to reinforce their garrison were being throttled down to nothing.

I recognized the pattern only too well.

On the twenty-third day of the siege the Star Watch Frontier Coordinator ordered me to lead an evacuation team down to the planet and rescue as many humans as possible.

The battle was lost.

I took three ships and headed for the last remaining center of organized resistance. We picked our way through the Masters patrol ships without much difficulty and approached the embattled planet on the night side.

I had never seen Northolm before, but it had been described to me as a green flowering world, one of the most beautiful in the Terran Confederation. Now, as our ships glided across the night side of the planet, all we could make out on our viewscreens was the angry red of flames licking up out of the darkness.

When we crossed the terminator into the daylight, our attention was immediately focused on the battle.

About ten Star Watch planetary landing ships were still standing on the plastistone disc of the spaceport. Ringed around them was the shimmering dome of their energy screen which often flared into patches of brilliant red and orange as the Saurians force-beam projectors fired at it.

Around the erect ships were dozens of smaller aircraft and groundcars. Most of the spaceport buildings were demolished, and several ships of various kinds were blasted and smoking, even inside the energy screen.

Outside the screen, the once-green meadowland was as bare and pockmarked as Terras own moon. Hundreds of Saurian vehicles and guns were drawn up around the Terrans as we flashed into view.

Flying through an energy screen without getting yourself vaporized, and without letting an enemy follow you inside is a trick requiring careful timing and long practice. The young Star Watch pilots of our three ships were all veterans, though, and we zig-zagged through the Saurians ground fire and slipped through openings in the screen at a prearranged signal from the men inside.

All three of our ships landed safely, although the last one was damaged by an enemy missile just before the screen closed again behind it.

I was met as soon as I set foot on the ground by a young officer.

I am Alan Bakerman, special adjutant to the Frontier Coordinator. I have been sent to organize a withdrawal of our forces, I said. Will you please take me to your commanding officer?

He tried not to show his feelings, but his whole body seemed to stiffen a little. He was a native Scandian, I realized. He was grimy, his uniform tattered, and his face looked as though he had not slept or eaten in days. But this was his planet, and he was fighting for it. Here I was, a stranger, an obvious alien, telling him that he must abandon his home.

Ill take you to the commander, sir, he said curtly.

He started walking briskly around my ship, toward the other Star Watch vehicles. I had to half-trot to keep up with him, since he was head and shoulders taller than I and covered three of my normal strides with his every step.

The energy screen seemed to make the sky sullenly gray, except for the flashes of brightness in the areas under bombardment.

How is the screen holding up? I asked, mostly in an effort to slow him.

He turned his head my way but did not slacken his pace. Its all right, sir, he said. Absorbs all the energy blasts the lizards have squirted at it so far. About all theyve been able to do is... FLAT!

He hurled himself at me, knocking me to the ground with his own heavy frame right on top of me. Just as we hit there was a ground-rattling explosion. Clods of dirt and debris pelted down on us.

After a few lifetime-long moments, he got up and offered me a hand.

Sorry, sir. Enemy missile.

I struggled up with his help and took a deep breath to see if his weight had cracked any of my ribs.

Quite all right. You probably saved my life. Thank you.

Its just as I was about to say, sir, he resumed his walking, but at a slower pace, the only thing the lizards have been able to get through the energy screen is a missile once in awhile. They overload one small area of the screen with force beams, then smash a missile through. The screen cant absorb all the radiation and still resist the solid body.

I nodded. And it is only a matter of time until they bring in missiles with nuclear warheads to wipe out the whole area, I thought.

Here we are, sir, my guide said, pointing to one of the spaceships.

We walked to the tail fins and he grasped a rung of the battered ladder that dangled from the ships lowest hatchway.

All the elevators are stopped, sir, so they can put full power into the energy screens.

Screens? I asked.

Yes, sir. Each ship has an individual screen to protect it against the missiles. The screen runs along the ships hull, sir.

I see.

We climbed up the ladder, were admitted through the hatch, and clambered through several levels of decks before reaching our destination. All the Terrans we met on the way looked much like my guide: tall, big-shouldered, thick-chested, dirty, tired but undefeated fighting men. They all towered above my modest height, and they seemed to regard me as something of a curiosity.

Finally, we walked down a short passageway and stopped at an unmarked door.

In there, sir.

Thank you.

I opened the door and walked in.

It was an austere little compartment with a viewscreen on one wall, star charts and planetary maps on the others. A rumpled bunk, a closet, a small, bare desk, and two chairs were the only furniture. There was another door on the wall to my left.