“Keep trying,” Corrigan pressed. “I have no intention of leaving anyone behind unless I have absolutely no alternative.” Turning to the viewscreen, he said, “Contact Icarus. They’d better answer this time.”
“Patching you through now, sir,” Singh said.
The viewscreen winked off, then flashed back on to reveal a view of Icarus’ bridge, Harrison sitting at the heart of the command center with McBride behind her, holding a datapad. Corrigan glanced at Dixon before looking back at the newly-appointed President, a thin smile on his face.
“I would have assumed you’d be down in Plato City, ma’am.”
“This is still my ship,” she replied. “I’m sure you understand. I gather that the satellites are not yet fully operational, so your primary mission is to hold off the enemy for long enough to get then on-line. Once that is accomplished, you can go wherever you wish. Indeed, I would rather you left Atlantis at the first opportunity. The local population seems to resent your presence in orbit, and I must obey the will of the people.”
“The truth shall set you free, Commander,” Dixon said, a wry smile on his face. “You know what you want to say. Go ahead and say it.”
“Commander?” Harrison said. “I said….”
“Madam President, let me give you a few home truths. You might think of yourself as some master manipulator, but compared to some of the people I’ve dealt with in the past, you barely qualify as a rank amateur. I know precisely what you have done, framing us for Bellini’s murder, setting the population up to permit your takeover, and I assure you that I am going to use any and all means in my power to ensure that you do not benefit from your actions. I suppose murder as a tool of statecraft is very, very old, but that doesn’t make what you did right.”
Leaning forward in his chair, he added, “The two of you are play acting, nothing more. McBride’s just using you to try and buy Earth some time, and either you are stupid enough not to realize that, or you’re using him, using him to secure your power base down on the planet while you cut a deal with the Belt. I’m no fool, Madam President.”
She glanced at McBride, and said. “Under other circumstances…”
“Oh, for God’s sake, stop being so damned pompous! We both know there isn’t a damned thing you can do to me, so let’s stop pretending. If I felt inclined, I could shoot your worthless hides out of the sky in seconds, but fortunately for you, I actually paid some attention during my Ethics courses at the Academy, though evidently Commodore McBride was sick that day. We’ll get the network up and running for you. We’ll hold off the Belt until we do. And then we’ll leave, and we’ll wash our hands of you, and I look forward very much to the day when the people down on the surface realize just what you’ve done to them, and to do to you what you made them do to the civilians you captured. Avenger out.”
Dixon grinned, then said, “Bet that felt good, skipper.”
“Damn right,” Corrigan said. “There’s a time for diplomacy, and this sure as hell isn’t it.”
“Bet you wish a few other people heard that,” Dixon replied. “At least, I very much hope that was the case, because I fed that into what’s left of the planetary data network. We still control the orbital communications, remember? Speaking purely personally, I think that was rather careless of them, don’t you?”
“You transmitted what I said down to the planet?” Corrigan asked, eyes widening. “Do you realize what…”
“I did warn you, boss. The truth shall set you free. We don’t have anything to reproach ourselves for, and if those poor bastards down there are about to be double-crossed, I think they deserve to know just who is sticking the knife in their back.”
“If I’d known….”
“It was better that you didn’t,” Rojek said, walking onto the bridge. “We’ll write it off as a communications malfunction, in the unlikely event that anyone actually decides to complain.”
“It’s not as though everything you said wasn’t true, anyway,” Novak added. “Course for the warp egress point is computed and laid in, sir. Ready for implementation on your command.”
“Then by all means, Lieutenant, make it happen,” Corrigan said, sitting back in his chair. “How long for the satellite.”
“Two minutes, sir,” Crawford replied. “These beasts might be old, but they still pack one hell of a punch. If the Belters risk getting close, they’re going to pay the price for it.”
“I hope so,” Corrigan said. He looked at the strategic display, and added, “We’ve beaten all records getting them ready for activation. How long to power them up? I mean at minimum time?”
“Three minutes,” Crawford replied, “though I already started the arming sequences.” He paused, then added, “I think I see what you’re getting at, sir, but there are too many things I have to fire up to make that work. We won’t be able to bluff them that way.” He frowned, then continued, “Though I could make it look as though they aren’t working that well. There’s a fifteen-second diagnostic check on the thruster stabilizers that makes then spin pretty wildly while it’s running. Anyone who wasn’t familiar with the design could easily think they were malfunctioning.”
“Make it happen,” Corrigan said with a smile. “Helm, let’s bring them in. Combat approach, but at the first sign of trouble, I want a feigned retreat towards the defense network. Crawford, when she executes that maneuver, hit the button on the thrusters.”
“They’re here, sir,” Singh reported. “Coming through now, just as we expected. Four enemy ships, led by Ajax. The rest are Solace-class Monitors, looks like the Third Patrol Squadron by the markings. They’re good, sir. Battle hardened.” Reading off his monitors, he added, “Intelligence states that they were undergoing maintenance and recuperation at Tau Ceti. I guess we made them interrupt their shore leave.”
“Any signs of trouble, battle damage?”
Shaking his head, the technician replied, “I’m afraid not, sir. They look pretty factory fresh to me, but I can’t see what’s going on under the hood. The enemy formation is on an intercept course, heading right for us. Icarus is moving into a lower orbit, well underneath the defense network.” He paused, then said, “She’s moving pretty slowly, sir. Well under her usual acceleration.”
“That’s odd,” Dixon said, looking up from his console. “They should have lightened ship as much as they can, knowing they were going to be in a battle.” He paused, then said, “Let me run a few sensor sweeps.”
“Contact with the enemy ships in two minutes, sir,” Novak reported. “They’re playing right into our hands. I think they really believe that we’re running a Don Quixote play, sir.”
“Just don’t run into any windmills,” Corrigan replied with a smile. “Crawford, get me a firing solution on the lead ship in the squadron. Not Ajax. The leader of Third Patrol.” He turned to Dixon, and added, “This show’s for Icarus as much as it is for the Belters.”
“We’ll make it convincing, skipper,” he replied with a smile.
“Enemy ships are powering their weapons systems,” Singh warned. “They have a firm firing solution.”
“Defenses are firmed,” Crawford said, “but that much firepower might still manage to punch through anyway. Firing range in one minute.”
Corrigan nodded, looking at the monitors, watching as the satellites below danced into position, the trajectory plot showing Avenger briefly rising to meet the enemy, a knight charging into battle, before ducking back down into the safety of the defense network. A perfect trap, if he could make it work.
“More speed,” he ordered. “Helm, stand by for evasive.”
“Change to target aspect,” Singh reported. “Ajax is falling back, out of formation.” He turned to Corrigan, and said, “Engine failure.”
With a grim, Corrigan replied, “Ignore it. Press on as before.”
“They’re a perfect target, sir…”
“Which is precisely the idea. First dumb thing that commanding officer has pulled. Probably under or
ders from his flotilla leader. Crawford, fire at will. Novak, when the first salvo fires, turn back. I’ll want all power to the aft defensive screens at that moment.”
“Ready, sir,” she replied, as Avenger dived into position, charging headlong towards the enemy. Ajax’s commander evidently realized that her plan had failed, and she hastened to fire her engines once more, trying to return to her position in the formation but struggling now to catch up.
“Firing!” Crawford yelled, and four ships fired as one, three Belter vessels against Avenger, Ajax still out of firing range. Corrigan hadn’t expected his ship to inflict any serious damage, and he wasn’t surprised; the lead ship’s forward shields angrily went down in a rainbow riot of color, doubtless causing systems burnouts in parts of the ship, but Avenger’s shields collapsed completely in response, red lights on every panel warning that the power distribution network was on the verge of meltdown.
“Get us out of here,” Corrigan yelled. “Throw in all emergency power.”
“Aye, sir, but the linkages are fried,” Novak replied.
“Give it all you can,” Corrigan said. The turn had surprised the enemy, the Belter commander likely presuming that he’d simply attempt to evade, to head out into deep space, but they were still pushing on, only Ajax holding back, whether due to the incapacity of their ship or the wariness of her captain. Avenger weaved from side to side as particle cannons blasted all around them, trying and failing to find a mark. Crawford was frantically trying to bring the aft defenses back up, but every time he was able to even make the attempt, the enemy ships took them down once more, a stray bolt here or there hammering the systems to pieces.
It was a race they had to win. Finally, at last, they ducked down into the safety of the defense network, the diagnostic checks brought to a halt at the touch of a button, the first wave of missiles firing towards the enemy at overwhelming relative speed.
Defensive screens were designed to stop energy weapons, not physical ones. A good gunner, a quick commander, could shoot down such missiles on their approach, but Third Patrol was a heartbeat too slow, the warheads crossing the too-short distance from satellite to ship in a handful of seconds. A series of brief explosions lit the sky as the missiles found their mark, ripping into the enemy ships and gouging terrible holes in their hull, forcing them to withdraw, to pull away from the planet.
“That’s more like it,” Dixon said. “This might just work.”
Shaking his head, Corrigan replied, “It worked once. It won’t work twice. They’ll pull back to a safe distance and prepare for long-range assault. The battle might be over, but the war isn’t.” He looked at Dixon, and said, “Check the status of the satellite’s firewalls. I want to make sure they’re nice and secure. We don’t want the enemy getting in.”
That was the code. The quiet, hidden message to Dixon. Even now, the idea of using it was distasteful in the extreme. And yet, it had to be. The Belters had received a bloody nose. They were hurting. If everything went as planned, they’d have the blame for what happened next.
“Hey, someone’s hacking into the satellites!” Dixon said. “Pushing right through the firewalls. I’m trying to lock them down.” He paused, then said, “They’re launching, sir! A second salvo.”
“Kill the firing mechanism, Dix,” Corrigan pressed, playing his role.
“Too late,” Dixon replied. “They’re up and running.” His eyes widened, and he said, “Eight missiles are in the sky, sir, heading towards the planet, targeting the mining facilities. I guess the Belters have decided that if they can’t have them, neither can we.” Turning to Corrigan, he added, “Commander, this wasn’t anything we did.” He looked at Corrigan, the hidden message in his words now obvious.
He hadn’t fired the missiles. Someone else had beaten him to it.
“Someone cracked into the systems, suborned them,” Dixon continued. “I’ve reestablished control and restored to baseline settings, but the damage is done, sir. Those missiles are on the way, and we can’t possibly stop them in time.”
“There must be something we can do…,” Rojek said.
“Not a damned thing,” Corrigan replied. “Not to stop them, anyway. Singh, contact those installations. Warn them that in a little under seven minutes they’ll cease to exist. Then see if you can raise Harrison. She is the President, I guess, at least for the moment.”
“Wait one,” Singh said, “they aren’t there.”
“What do you mean…”
“They’re not where they should be, off their course,” he replied. “Christ, they’re on the move, heading out of the system!”
“I’m not surprised,” Dixon said. “It should have been obvious. This wasn’t an attempt to conquer a world. It was a smash and grab operation. Icarus is fully loaded with rare elements, uranium. And the value of everything on that ship just went up dramatically.” Turning to Corrigan, he said, “They weren’t in it for power. Just money.”
“Could someone tell me…,” Crawford began.
“Later,” Corrigan said. “Much later. I want a pursuit course on Icarus, right now, and I want main batteries to come up with a firing solution on the double. They’re not going to get away with this, but we’re the only ones who can stop them. Push it to the limit, helm. We’ve got to catch them. Now.”
He’d been ready to make the most terrible decision of his life. Had made it, in fact. Only to find out that someone had beaten him to the draw.
Chapter 25
Carter looked at Clarke, at the pistol still in his hand, mentally figuring whether she had any chance of getting past him, getting to safety and freeing the prisoners. It didn’t seem likely. Not at point-blank range. She was dead as soon as he made the decision to pull the trigger, unless the situation changed.
“Attention, attention!” the klaxon barked. “Missiles incoming! Missiles incoming! Eight targets have been tracked, heading for the mines. Detonation in six minutes minus. Report to shelters on the double.”
That was the opportunity she had been waiting for, her only chance. Death was certain anyway if she didn’t make her move. She reached out to slap the pistol away, hitting Clarke on the wrist and buying her the second she needed to get to her feet and launch herself at him, sending the miner tumbling to the ground, wrestling the pistol from his hand and pointing it squarely at his head.
“Why?” she asked.
“They need to pay for what they did,” he replied.
“Women and children? Innocents?” Carter asked.
“Nobody saved my twins when they died in the mines, killed at fifteen, fifteen, when their suits failed because some Belter bastard skimmed the money for maintenance for his pocket. Nobody saved my wife when she died of pneumonia, because she couldn’t get the drugs she needed. Why should I give a damn about them?”
“Because if you’re no better than they are, all of this is meaningless.” She paused, then said, “Maybe you’ll work that out one day.” Before the miner could reply, she smashed the butt of the pistol into his head, knocking him cold. As his figure slumped to the floor, she made for the corridor, sprinting in what she hoped was the direction of the security block.
Alarms were ringing all around, but at least now she knew that most of them were nothing to do with her, alerts instead for the missiles heading down to the surface. Something had gone terribly wrong in orbit, that much was obvious, but there was nothing she could do about that now, except perhaps make use of the distraction it provided.
She reached the detention level, the guards missing, abandoning their posts in the panic, and hastily started to work the controls, opening up the passages to guide them to the vehicular airlock, hoping and praying that there would be a shuttle there to meet them.
“That’s enough, Cat,” Mathis said, walking towards her, pistol in hand. “That’s more than enough. Put down the pistol.”
“And let you shoot me out of hand?” she asked. “Not a chance.”
“You really think I’d kill you?�
��
“You’re the one with the gun,” she said. “What the hell happened to you, Claude? What did they do to you?”
“They opened my eyes,” he replied. “This is my chance, Cat. My chance to do something great, something wonderful. Atlantis is free, and it is going to stay that way, no matter what. We’ll make it work.”
“And the Blackguards? Where do they fit in?”
“War is war,” he replied. “Bad things happen in war, and there’s nothing we can do about that. People had to die, and I was the one with the training to do the job. That’s how it had to be.” He grinned, and said, “I’ve never felt more alive than I have since I made it here. I’m not one little piece of a big machine, I’m the leader of a resistance cell, and we’ve won!”
“I’m sure the Belters will have something to say about that,” she said. “Damn it, Clyde, you arranged the assassination of…”
“Arranged, hell, I did it!” he said. “He’d have sold us out, handed this planet back to the Belters in all but name. I know what he was planning, I was thoroughly briefed by Harrison and McBride. With her as President, we’re going to take the fight to the Belt where it counts. Earth will come around, sooner or later, and then I’ll…”
She paused, looked at him, and said, “That’s what all of this is about. This is nothing to do with the welfare of the people of this planet. This about Lieutenant Claude Mathis, hero, revered by all. I should have known.”
“And why not?” he asked, flashing a smile. “I’ve earned it.”
“Thousands of people have died.”
“And tens of thousands are free,” he said. “I made my choice, and I stand by it. I did what I had to do, and I still will.” He gestured at the console, and said, “Now, lock down those cells. We’ll need them as bargaining chips when the Belters arrive. They won’t dare shoot down their own people.”
Alone in the Night Page 17