He put the thought aside as Invincible and her flotilla glided towards the Multinational Fleet’s position. Up close, it was even more impressive than he’d realised. The Tadpoles and the Foxes had both sent contingents to join their human allies, fearing the consequences if the virus managed to infect human space. Stephen had read papers suggesting the virus would have no trouble infecting every alien race known to mankind, as long as they were carbon-based. So far, no one had encountered a race that wasn’t carbon-based. Humanity’s allies had excellent reasons for wanting to make a stand so far from their homeworlds.
“Captain,” Morse said. “Admiral Weisskopf sends his compliments and invites you to join him onboard USS Texas.”
“Please inform the admiral that I will be delighted,” Stephen said. “Have my shuttle prepared for departure.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“We’re settling into position now,” Sonia said. “The fleet doesn’t seem to want us to come too close.”
“Very good,” Stephen said. He wasn’t too surprised. Invincible had had infected humans onboard. Admiral Weisskopf had good reason to be concerned. “Inform Admiral Weisskopf that I’m on my way.”
He passed the bridge to Newcomb, then changed into his dress uniform and walked directly to his shuttle. The pilot disengaged from Invincible with commendable speed and took the shuttle straight towards Texas, disregarding the remainder of the fleet. Stephen looked forward with interest as the American battleship came into view. Texas was larger than her British counterparts, although Stephen wasn’t so sure that her extra weapons and armour gave her an edge. It looked as if she’d have problems bringing all of her weapons to bear on a single target.
And she’s a bigger target too, he thought. He could see some advantages to the design. The Americans could rotate their ship, allowing each plasma gun a chance to fire and then recharge while maintaining a consistent bombardment. They could presumably overcharge their plasma cannons, if they were rotating their ship. They’d run the risk of accidentally overloading the plasma containment chambers, but they’d presumably hardwired some safeguards into the system. She would be a tricky customer in a fight.
“Captain, we’re being ordered to dock at the upper airlock, rather than land in their shuttlebay,” the pilot said. “We’ll be docked in two minutes.”
“Understood,” Stephen said. Hopefully, docking at an airlock meant a certain lack of formality. And yet ... he had a feeling that the Americans were feeling paranoid. If the shuttle was carrying a nuke, it would do a great deal less damage if it detonated outside the battleship’s hull. They wouldn’t let him land in the shuttlebay unless they were entirely sure of his bona fides. “Dock as soon as you can.”
He took a long breath as the shuttle docked with the giant battleship. The gravity field flickered a moment later, growing stronger momentarily before the shuttle’s generator automatically shut down. Stephen stood and headed for the hatch, silently cursing whoever had designed his dress uniform under his breath. It felt uncomfortable when he needed to feel relaxed.
A pair of United States Marines in dress uniform stood at the far side of the hatch, behind a biohazard barrier. “Sir,” the leader said. “We need to do a blood test.”
Stephen nodded, holding out his hand for the scanner. It bleeped a moment later, signalling that he was clean. The marines relaxed visibly - if Stephen had been infected, their odds of survival would have been very low - and motioned him through the barrier and into an inner hatch. A young ensign was waiting for him. She looked so young that she made Stephen feel old.
“Welcome onboard, Captain,” she said. “Admiral Weisskopf is waiting for you.”
Stephen looked around with interest as she led him through a maze of corridors. The American ship wasn't that different to its British counterparts, not on the inside. It would have been hard to tell it was an American ship if the American flag hadn’t been displayed everywhere. Otherwise, it felt just like a British ship. But that wasn’t really a surprise. A great many components had been standardised, even before the First Interstellar War. The battleship would have her secrets, of course, just like Invincible, but ...
He pushed the thought aside as the ensign opened a hatch. “Admiral Weisskopf, sir,” she said. “Captain Shields, HMS Invincible.”
Stephen stepped past her and into the cabin. Admiral Weisskopf was a short muscular man with skin so dark that Stephen found it hard to look him in the eye. He saluted as the hatch hissed closed behind him. Admiral Weisskopf looked back at him with equal interest. The last time they’d met, Invincible had been returning to Earth. Now ...
“Take a seat,” Admiral Weisskopf said. He had a thick Texan accent that Stephen found a little hard to follow. “I take it you didn’t get put in front of a court-martial after all.”
“It was a close-run thing,” Stephen said. He sat down, resting his hands on his lap. “Luckily, I followed proper procedure. They had no grounds to charge me with anything.”
“And so they’ve sent you and your ship back here,” Admiral Weisskopf said. His face twisted in displeasure. “I am not happy at the thought of poking the hornet’s nest.”
Stephen met his eyes. “Wouldn’t you prefer to know what’s coming at you?”
“I have destroyers in the systems between us and Alien-1,” Admiral Weisskopf said, “although they may miss the signs of a major enemy offensive. I’m feeling rather exposed out here.”
“I know, sir,” Stephen said. “My orders are to attempt to remain undetected ...”
“Which may prove difficult,” Admiral Weisskopf said, cutting him off. “If it was up to me, Captain, you and your little flotilla would join the MNF and stand in defence of the tramline chain to Earth.”
He snorted, rudely. “But it’s not up to me, is it?”
Stephen said nothing. He understood Admiral Weisskopf’s concerns. But, at the same time, he also understood the importance of finding out what was coming towards the human sphere before it actually arrived. They knew almost nothing about their new foe, nothing they could use to calculate just how strong the virus actually was. Invincible’s mission might be their only hope of peering through the fog of war before it was too late. Every analyst agreed that it was only a matter of time before the offensive began.
“Of course not,” Admiral Weisskopf said. “Good luck, Captain. Try not to stir up a swarm of angry hornets.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen said. “What is the current situation?”
Admiral Weisskopf frowned. “So far, there’s been no trace of anything sneaking down the tramline chain from Alien-1. Which proves nothing, of course. We’ve seeded the whole system with scansats, but as long as the bastards are careful they can get a whole fleet into attack position without being detected. You know how badly fucked we’d be if they did get control of this system. They’d be able to attack us from four different angles.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen said. He didn’t think the virus would want to leave such a powerful fleet in its rear, but they’d seen more than enough evidence to confirm that the virus simply didn't think like humans. Hell, if cut off from its supply lines, Admiral Weisskopf’s fleet would simply wither on the vine. “And Wensleydale?”
“The quarantine has not been broken, as far as we can tell,” Admiral Weisskopf said. “None of the captured - and presumed infected - starships have been located. We assume they’re attempting to infect our worlds, but so far they haven’t shown themselves. Nor have we spotted the missing Russian ship. We’re assuming the worst.”
He looked up at Stephen. “Understand this, Captain. My priority is maintaining control of this system and keeping the bastards out. I have strict orders not to go haring after you if you run into trouble. Your ships will be on their own. I cannot leave my post, Captain, and I cannot draw down my defences to assist you. Be absolutely clear on that. I cannot provide any assistance once you’ve crossed the tramline.”
Stephen nodded, unsurprised. “I understand, Admiral
,” he said. “We planned on the assumption that we’d be alone.”
“Good thinking,” Admiral Weisskopf grunted. “Just make absolutely sure that you don’t get spotted. I really don’t want them to come boiling out of the tramline with blood in their eyes.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen said.
He didn’t take the Admiral’s words personally. Admiral Weisskopf had every reason to be concerned. Falkirk was heavily defended, but no defence was perfect. The virus could easily deploy a blocking force to pin Admiral Weisskopf down, then dispatch the rest of its fleet into the human sphere. And then ... Stephen couldn’t help feeling pity for the American. He was the only man who could lose the war in an afternoon.
There are other defence lines closer to Earth, Stephen thought. But the aliens could come at us from a hundred different directions.
Admiral Weisskopf smiled. “Now that’s over, Captain,” he said, “I hope you’ll have time to join my staff and I for dinner.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Stephen said. “But afterwards, I will have to return to my ship.”
“Of course,” Admiral Weisskopf said. “And you’ll be leaving tomorrow?”
Stephen nodded. “We have orders to move fast,” he said. “And there’s no hope of shore leave here.”
“Tell me about it,” Admiral Weisskopf said, as he lead the way to the Officers Mess. “It’ll be years before there’s anything more exciting than cloud-skimming in this system.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen said, with the private thought it wouldn’t be long before the NAAFI and its counterparts started to set up shop within the system. And they’d be followed by far less scrupulous organisations. “There’s nothing else to do here.”
Dinner was surprisingly spicy, Stephen discovered, although he found himself enjoying it more than he’d expected. Admiral Weisskopf explained that his cook was Mexican, someone who had joined the USN to escape the chaos that gripped the Mexican Protectorates on a regular basis. Stephen had to admit he’d never eaten anything like it, even in London’s handful of curry houses. He was tempted to suggest that the cook open a restaurant in London, although it was possible he wouldn’t be granted a licence. The city’s authorities were suspicious of anything that smacked of ethnic food.
Which is stupid, Stephen thought. The Troubles had left scars in their wake. He couldn’t help wondering just how much Britain had lost in the chaos. It isn’t as if we ever went to war with Mexico.
He took a sip of his beer and surveyed the table. The Americans seemed to be considerably less formal than their British counterparts, with junior officers enjoying a freedom to speak that would probably have landed their counterparts in hot water. They didn’t seem to care so much about the dinner arrangements, either. There hadn’t been any set courses, just an invitation for the diners to help themselves. Stephen was pretty sure the Americans would be more formal if diplomats or senior officers were involved, but he found their attitude rather relaxing. It was nice not to have to worry about the proper way to hold a fork.
“You’ll be able to check in with the destroyers on the near side of Alien-1,” Admiral Weisskopf said, once the meal was finished. “After that, you’re on your own.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen said. “I knew the job was dangerous when I took it.”
“More dangerous than you might think,” Admiral Weisskopf warned. “Watch your back.”
“Yes, sir,” Stephen said.
He was in a pensive mood as the shuttle disengaged from Texas and headed back to Invincible. He’d read Admiral Weisskopf’s orders. He wasn’t surprised that Admiral Weisskopf was unwilling to detach ships from the MNF to go to Invincible’s aid. His orders gave him very little leeway. He was to hold Falkirk and, if that proved impossible, he was to withdraw down the tramline chain. He was not to go gallivanting off on missions that might make it harder for him to carry out his orders.
“Captain, we’ll dock in two minutes,” the pilot said. “Do you have any specific orders?”
“Just dock at the forward airlock,” Stephen ordered. He keyed his wristcom. “Commander Newcomb, meet me in my Ready Room in forty minutes.”
He sighed as he sat back and studied the MNF. It looked alert, but no fleet could remain on alert indefinitely. And yet, Admiral Weisskopf had been right. An attack could come at any moment, catching the defenders by surprise. The MNF would be constantly rotating its positions, with some units at battlestations while others remained at a lower state of readiness. They had no choice. They couldn’t keep their crews at alert indefinitely without burning them out.
A low rumble echoed through the shuttle - the gravity field flickered again - as the craft docked with Invincible. Stephen rose and walked through the airlock, thinking hard. There didn’t seem to be any reason to make any changes to the original plan, save perhaps for the presence of scouting destroyers in the systems between Falkirk and Alien-1. He could send messages with them, allowing him to keep his own destroyers in reserve. It wasn’t ideal - the flicker network had spoilt them - but it was the best he could do. Admiral Weisskopf would need their records from Alien-1 before they pushed into unexplored space.
Commander Newcomb met Stephen in his Ready Room. “How was it?”
“We’re going to be on our own, as we anticipated,” Stephen said, and shortly outlined what had happened during the meeting. “The MNF isn’t allowed to leave Falkirk.”
“It makes sense, sir,” Newcomb said. “Falkirk is a bottleneck system.”
“Unless the virus has its own version of the jump drive,” Stephen said. The virus might not be deterred by the immense cost of building and using the drive. “They could leapfrog around the MNF and strike at Earth.”
“They’d still need to get control of the tramlines,” Newcomb pointed out. “I don’t believe they could produce an indefinite supply of jump cages.”
Stephen shrugged. They knew so little about their enemy. The virus might have no qualms about wasting vast amounts of resources; hell, the resources it would expend on building jump drive cages might be a tiny fraction of its overall resources. He cursed under his breath. MI6 could make reasonably accurate guesses at how many ships the Great Powers might be able and willing to build - and semi-accurate guesses about the alien powers - but the virus was a complete blank. The idea of an entire star system being converted into a war machine was terrifying. Even during the darkest days of the First Interstellar War, humanity hadn’t embraced collectivism. There was no way the Great Powers would agree to unite as one. But the virus? It was a single entity.
It must have some way of splitting up and recombining, Stephen thought. I wonder if we could turn it against itself ...
He put the thought aside for later consideration and sighed. “Commander, ready the ship for departure as planned,” he said. “I have to write my final reports to the Admiralty, then get some rest.”
“Yes, sir,” Newcomb said. “I’ll take care of it personally.”
Chapter Eleven
“Jump completed, Captain,” Sonia said. Her voice was hushed. “The remainder of the flotilla has followed us through.”
“Cloaking device engaged,” Lieutenant-Commander David Arthur said. “I’ve established laser links to the flotilla.”
Which doesn’t mean that we’re not being watched by unseen eyes, Stephen thought. Our cloaking device would have flickered on transit.
He watched as the tactical display slowly filled with icons. The dwarf star system had been unnamed when Invincible had passed through the first time; someone, probably one of Admiral Weisskopf’s stellar cartographers, had named the system Grumpy. Stephen wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get away with it, although he did have to admit that Grumpy was largely useless as anything more than a transit system. The next system was much more interesting - and useful. But the wrangling over who had the first claim had been terminated by the discovery of Alien-1 on the far side.
“Helm, take us to Tramline Two,” he ordered. “But keep us i
n stealth at all times.”
“Aye, sir,” Sonia said.
Stephen smiled, despite the situation. She was practically whispering, even though the odds of the aliens overhearing her were nil. Stephen had always found that more than a little amusing. It was, perhaps, a legacy of the days when the Royal Navy had deployed submarines, rather than starships; the days when a single cough, at the wrong time, could bring an enemy fleet down on their heads. But now ... his crew could sing and dance to their heart’s content and no one would hear them. Sound simply didn’t travel through a vacuum.
In space, no one can hear you scream, he thought, with a flicker of amusement. He’d watched the latest set of Alien remakes as a child, although they were less amusing now that they were facing an enemy that did turn humans into hosts. Or be able to tell if there’s something seriously wrong with you.
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