Ollie heaved a huge sigh. Jim looked at him, then back at the holo.
“OK. How would we get in?” he asked Helen.
“We’ll be in a shipping container. A shuttle will deliver us to the cargo bay on their regular evening supply run. Containers that arrive after 1800 hours are left in the cargo bay overnight and unloaded the next morning. So this container will be left in the cargo bay, unopened. After midnight, two of our Resistance contacts will come in and let us out of the container. We’ll hide in food carts. Our Resistance contacts will push the food carts to our kickoff points. You’ll make your way to the medical facility, while I go to the central reactor. I’ll put charges on the reactor, then return to the cargo bay and wait for you. When the reactor blows, you’ve got your distraction. You grab Rita’s body and hustle back to the cargo bay to meet me. We make our escape. Piece of cake!”
Jim chuckled. “And just how do we ‘make our escape’?”
Helen smiled. “They always have several small shuttles in the cargo bay overnight. We’ll take one and head for Deriko.”
Jim shook his head.
“We won’t even make it onto the spacedock. They’ll scan every container. It’s like trying to break into the White House back on Earth. Or Windsor Castle. Can’t be done.”
“Good. You DO understand,” Ollie interjected.
Helen winked at Jim. “Double-walled container. Outside the inner container will be foodstuffs. It’ll show a normal scan on their equipment. We’ll be in an inner container. The scan won’t be able to see past the outer layers - it’ll look like more cases of food to the scanner.”
“How about oxygen?”
“We’ll have a twelve-hour supply. The shuttle goes up at 1800 hours. That gives us until 0600 to get there and wait until our contacts come and let us out. And we have a failsafe - a ventilation tube we can crack open if it takes longer than that.”
“What if they leave us in an unpressurized area?”
Helen shrugged. “The container will be clearly marked to maintain pressurization. But if that does happen, we’ll have pressure suits with us. We can open the inner hatch if we have to and fight our way through the food cartons to the outside.”
Jim looked again at Ollie, then back at Helen. “Too risky, Helen. Too many things that can go wrong.”
Helen looked serious for a minute. “Don’t you think I know that, Commander? But the reward is worth the risk. Think about it…blowing up their main spacedock. Not to mention taking Rita’s body away from them so it can’t be used for propaganda purposes. Don’t you think that’s worth a bit of risk?”
Jim did think about it. He had no direct say in this decision; Bonnie had made it clear to him that Ollie was commander on the surface.
But Helen was asking for his opinion, and he could see that Ollie was listening too. So his opinion would carry some weight.
Looking at Helen, but knowing that Ollie was listening intently, he gave a grudging nod. “It’s a huge risk. But as you say - the potential benefit is also huge. I can’t tell you what to do. But if it were me - I’d probably go for it.”
Helen beamed. “Great!” She looked at Ollie to see his reaction. Ollie rolled his eyes, shrugged his shoulders, and heaved a sigh.
“Go for it,” Ollie said. “After you two kill yourselves, don’t come crying to me.”
Sol System - Earth
United Nations Building - Beijing, China
UNSF Admiral Ken Elliott thought he was having a heart attack. He had never been this angry in his life.
“Mutiny! It’s outright, flagrant mutiny!” he yelled.
On the other end of the satellite phone, Ingrid Stoltenberg, Secretary-General of the UN, winced at the volume.
“Elliott, lower your voice,” she said with some bite. “Remember who you’re talking to…”
The implied threat in her voice was clear - and ominous. Elliott came to his senses and backed down a bit.
“But Secretary-General…Westerly simply left! He just…left! Without permission! No warning! The Victory and both cruisers are on their way to Dekanna!”
“Calling me to tell me things I already know is a waste of both our time, Elliott. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Make them come back! Order them in the name of the UN to return those ships!”
“I believe you have already issued that order, Elliott. And what was the response?”
“Um…the order was ignored, sir.”
“I believe the exact response was, ‘You can have these ships anytime you wish. All you have to do is come to Dekanna and get them’. Was that about it, Admiral?”
“Um…yes, Secretary-General. That was about the gist of it.”
“Then I suggest you do exactly that, Admiral. Your fleet has left for the battlefield. I suggest you get in the first available corvette and go join them.”
“But…sir…they’re going to battle! They’re going to fight the Ashkelon!”
“Exactly, Admiral Elliott. And what better place for an Admiral to be? I’ll expect you to be aboard a corvette and on your way before morning. Clear?”
“Uh…? Are you serious?”
“Let me put it this way, Admiral. If you are still on Earth tomorrow, you are fired. Is that clear enough?”
Ingrid slammed the phone down, leaned back in her chair and laughed out loud.
Ashkelon System - Planet Ridendo
City of Mosalia
Captain Orma zu Dalty was drunk. It was not something he normally did; Orma was certainly no prude; but neither was he a libertine. Drinking to excess was something he rarely did. But today…
Today Zukra had sacrificed another dozen political prisoners in the arena. It had been a bloody mess. The masses had gone wild, screaming for more, more, more.
And of course, Orma was forced to attend. Zukra insisted. After all, Orma was Chief of Intelligence. He must put in an appearance.
In recent months, Orma had become quite a good student of the Humans. He felt it was good to know your enemy. Thus, he had read extensively about their political systems, their current events - and their history.
“Nothing to excess,” he muttered. “Their ancient Greeks knew what they were talking about.”
Nothing to excess. The philosophy I have followed all my life. But what I saw today was excessive.
Orma stumbled. He was walking from his pantry, where he had retrieved another bottle of the strong zuf he had been sampling. He made it back to his comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace in his living room and sat heavily. He poured another drink of the gin-like alcohol and thought about his state of life.
Nothing to excess. Zukra would know nothing about that. He follows the opposite philosophy - everything to excess. And that philosophy is ruining our Navy. Ruining our culture. Ruining our morality.
Sipping slowly, Orma zu Dalty considered his options.
Zukra’s cult of hero-worshipers fawn around him like he is a god. But their actions tear down our morality. What was that culture I read about in the Human history?
Bushido. That was it. We were like that five thousand years ago. Before the Zukras of the world took over. We were a pure race then. Pure in honor, pure in morality. Yes, in those ancient times, we killed - but only in war, and only when attacked. We walked in honor. We never killed merely for the sake of killing.
But now we are…what? What have we become? Zukra kills with great glee. Anyone who gets in his way just…disappears.
We’ve become…butchers.
Orma had gone along with Zukra all these many months. He had stuck with him when he attacked the Humans. Reluctantly, he had stuck with him when he killed Admiral Ligar and dozens of others, to take over the Navy and execute a coup against the government. He had stuck with him through the Battle of Deriko and beyond.
But now…
Now Zukra was just a killing machine. He sent a hundred or more prisoners to the arena every weekend. The maintenance workers at the arena could har
dly clear the blood from one game before the next one started.
I must make a decision. Do I have any honor left at all?
Sol System - Planet Earth
Corvette Armidale
“Dekanna? Admiral, we haven’t completed shakedown yet! We just came out of spacedock three days ago!”
Captain Duncan Aveline Stewart of the corvette UNSF Armidale was in shock. Ten minutes ago, Fleet Admiral Ken Elliott had suddenly - and very unexpectedly - arrived at his docking port. Now Elliott stood in front of Stewart on his tiny bridge talking nonsense.
“Captain, you will launch for Dekanna immediately. That is an order. Get your crew in gear and get this corvette moving!”
“But sir…we have no missiles loaded onboard yet! We haven’t tested the tDrive! We may not have enough food and water onboard to even make it to Dekanna!”
Elliott leaned forward and growled at Stewart. “Then you’ve got two hours to get enough food and water on board and get this tub moving. Got it?”
Stewart stared at the Admiral in dismay. “Yes, sir. Two hours. Got it.”
“Show me to a cabin.”
“Aye, sir. Follow me.”
Stewart led the way down the short corridor from the bridge to his cabin. Opening the hatch, he showed Elliott through.
“My cabin, sir. I’ll have the quartermaster remove my things as quickly as possible.”
Elliott looked around the tiny cabin and sniffed. “My God. You live in this place?”
“Yes, sir.”
Elliott turned to him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make do. Have my luggage brought in from the shuttle.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Stewart closed the hatch behind him and trotted back to the bridge where his astounded crew sat in shock. They stared at him in complete bafflement.
“COB!” Stewart yelled at Chief Turner, his Chief of the Boat. “Take an inventory of consumables onboard. Ensure we have enough to make Dekanna. Don’t forget to include one extra body - the Admiral is going with us. Get an immediate emergency order from Spacedock for enough to get us there. Plus a ten-day buffer for emergencies. Any questions?”
“No, sir. Got it. Enough consumables to make Dekanna plus a ten-day buffer.”
“And Chief?”
“Yes, sir?”
“We’ve only got two hours. But see if you can get at least one loadout of missiles stuffed into the cargo bay before we leave. We can assemble and hand-carry them to the magazine on the way. I hate like hell to enter the Dekanna system naked as a baby joey…”
Chief Turner grinned. “Aye, aye, sir! One loadout of missiles, coming up!”
Ashkelon System - Planet Ridendo
City of Mosalia
“You realize this is impossible, Commander,” Ollie said to Jim in one last plea for sanity.
“Of course,” Jim smiled at him from inside the shipping container. “No chance whatsoever.”
Ollie grunted. “OK. Just checking.”
And with that, Ollie shut the inner door of the shipping container. Inside, it got very dark. Helen flicked on a light. From outside, noise and bumps came as Ollie’s Resistance team repacked the outside container with food cartons.
Inside the secret compartment, it was a tight fit. They had experimented with different positions before the hatch was sealed up. None of them were comfortable. They had finally settled on having Jim sitting with his back against the wall of the container, legs spread wide. Helen sat between his legs, spooned up against him but facing away. There was barely enough space between them to slide in a hand. Helen was smashed into him like a commuter on a crowded subway train.
Jim heard the sound of a forklift. The container gave a lurch. They were being loaded onto a truck.
“You never told me this was going to be so tight,” Jim said.
“You never told me you forgot to shower this morning,” said Helen.
“I did shower this morning,” Jim shot back.
Helen grunted. She shifted position.
“Oh, crap,” said Jim. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Can you go back to where you were before?”
“Why?”
“Because if you stay there, I’m going to be a eunuch in a few minutes.”
“Oh. Sorry. Got it.”
Jim rolled his eyes.
This is going to be one helluva long trip.
He felt the truck start moving. They were on their way. The smell of diesel fumes came to his nose.
That’s funny. You travel 550 light years to an alien world full of creatures that look like walking, talking lions and they drive diesels.
The truck bumped and swayed. Soon the combination of the lurching truck and the diesel fumes made him nauseous. He tried to fight it off but couldn’t. He was about to warn Helen when she beat him to it, throwing up all over his pants leg.
He was about five seconds behind her. Together they retched until neither had anything left to throw up.
The romance had definitely gone out of their togetherness.
Ashkelon System - Planet Ridendo
Naval Spacedock
Hours later, with a final thump, the shipping container came to rest.
Inside, Jim and Helen were bruised and battered, but intact. The trip up to the spacedock had been anything but smooth. One crash after another had smashed them from one side to the other of the hidden inner compartment.
But now at last things were quiet. There was no more movement, no more noise. Jim sent a thought command to his embedded AI, Angel.
Angel - how much longer?
Jim sighed silently. He tried to change position again, but Helen had gone to sleep, and he couldn’t manage it. What had been somewhat erotic six hours ago - having a beautiful woman smashed into his lap - was now more like having a sack of cement pinning him in position. The smell of their vomit permeated the container. He was miserable.
He tried to distract himself by going over his memorized layout of the path he had to take to get to Rita’s body. There was no easy way in. Every wall, every corner, every aspect of the orbital station was monitored by cameras, motion detectors, and infrared. There was no chance of getting to the medical facility through normal means.
So he would have to go via abnormal means. There was one place they might have left a weakness. It was a long shot; but the only chance he had. In the holo diagrams, just outside the cargo bay was a machine room. And in that machine room was a hatch in the floor.
It was his only chance to get to Rita.
***
Two hours later, they heard the noise of someone entering the area. There was a snap, and then the sound of the outer hatch of the cargo container opening.
Jim had been reviewing the route he would take to the medical facility. Now he flicked off his tablet and tensed. He heard Helen move slightly, so he knew she was awake.
From outside came the sound of someone removing the outer layer of food cartons. Jim pulled his pistol out and checked it for charge. After some thought, he put it back into his shoulder holster.
If it’s our guys, I won’t need it. And if it’s the bad guys, it’ll be useless.
Then there were another couple of snaps. The inner hatch to their hidden space cracked open. It was directly in front of Helen, and it was hard to see around her head. Jim saw a sliver of light. Slowly, the hatch opened fully. Leaning around Helen to peer forward, he saw a male Ashkelon kneeling in the container, and behind him a female.
The Ashkelon kneeling closest to them spoke in Nidarian.
“Out quickly. Into the carts.”
Helen unlimbered and crawled out of the inner compartment, groaning as she went. Jim couldn’t quite figure out why she was groaning until he also tried to move. It was then he realized that he had been frozen in one position for so long, his muscles and joints didn’t work right. It hurt to move.
Suppressing his
groans, Jim managed to crawl out of the container. Just outside, the two Ashkelon had cleared some space in the mess of food cartons. There were two large food carts waiting. Each cart had an open door under it. Only a Human could fit into the small space under each cart; it would be impossible for an Ashkelon. Jim realized this was the essence of the plan to move them farther into the station - a normal Ashkelon might not think to look into a space too small for one of his own kind.
I hope.
Jim moved to the far food cart and reached down to place his backpack into the narrow space beneath it. Suddenly he heard Helen behind him.
“Jim.”
Turning, he was met by a flurry of arms enveloping him, and lips pressing onto his. Before he could protest, Helen kissed him, long and hard. Then she pulled away and winked at him in the dim light.
“Good luck, sailor,” she said.
Jim was flabbergasted. All he could do was nod, once. Helen smiled, turned, and began stuffing herself into the space beneath her food cart.
Jim turned back to his own cart and began the difficult task of folding his body up into something no larger than a small coffin.
Chapter Seventeen
Ashkelon System - Planet Ridendo
Naval Spacedock
The Ashkelon pushing the food cart took Jim outside the cargo bay, down the hall a dozen meters, and then through a door into a small room. He tapped the side of the cart, and then opened the door beneath it. Jim carefully unfolded himself from the cramped space and fell out on the floor. He looked up at the Ashkelon towering over him and smiled. The Ashkelon ignored him.
With a sigh, Jim reached into the cart and pulled out his pack, closing the door in the bottom of the cart. His Ashkelon minder turned and wheeled the cart back to the door of the room. He opened the door, pushed the cart through, and left.
“Thank you too,” Jim mumbled under his breath. Then he looked around the room.
It was a small maintenance room. In the floor in front of Jim was a hatch cover, looking remarkably like a manhole cover. Because in fact, that’s what it was. It was a maintenance hatch into the space dock’s sewer system. Even with the cover in place, the stench was noticeable. Jim shuddered to think what it would be like once he was inside.
The Short End: Broken Galaxy Book Four Page 18