Aidele had been listening intently to all of this and had the crazed notion she understood exactly where Durante was going with all of this. It was brazen. It was cocky. It was suicide. And she was loving it because she knew, deep down, this was going to work. But first…
“Grandfather, you’re not coming,” Aidele shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I see what he’s getting at and I don’t want to lose any more of my family.”
Grandfather affixed her with his impenetrable eyes. “I’m going, Granddaughter. Just as you’ve chosen your fate, I will not allow you to face it without the maximum chance of escape. So, what is our role in this?”
Aidele sighed. “Durante wants us to take the waverider up behind Berricks’ shuttle to infiltrate the Invicta and free them once onboard. Then, we storm the bridge. How close am I?”
Durante smiled broadly. “One hundred percent. And you’ll be unseen too.”
“Because, early this morning, you figured out how to modulate the plasma shields.” Aidele stared at Durante. She was both impressed and frightened. Yet a nervous anticipation washed across her and she eagerly awaited the mission now. Durante beamed at her.
“What the hell does that mean?” Asta asked looking lost.
“It means we’ll be invisible,” Aidele replied. “Both to eyesight and to the Invicta’s sensors. It’s an isolated gravitational system. Modulating the shielding will allow the electronic systems to be self-contained, masking our energy signatures. Essentially, they’ll be blind to us. Even if they detect anything, we’ll show up as a void on the scans and the scanning crew will likely just dismiss the readings as an isolated anomaly. A dark energy glitch. They won’t be expecting a recreational vehicle to be trying to infiltrate their dreadnought right behind a Union shuttle. So, how close do we have to be to their craft?”
Durante almost hopped with excitement. “You have your parent’s cleverness, Aidele! We’d need to be within forty-feet.”
Aidele exhaled sharply looking to the floor. “That’s pretty damn close. But… I can do it. What about weapons? Surely they’ll confiscate Asta and Drevan’s guns?”
“Without a doubt. But it’ll need to happen if we’re going to make this look real. We’ll have to purchase some new arms and store them in the waverider’s storage compartments.”
“They’ll be taking our guns?” Asta asked, bewildered.
“Yes. Don’t worry, though. It’ll be taken care of,” Durante replied looking to her. “Aidele’s loaded now… heh. Kind of in every way possible, right?” Aidele raised a brow and tried to hide the grin tugging at the corner of her lip. “We can hit the gunshop just down the street. Of course… I don’t want to speak for you, Aidele. It’s up to you if you want to do this.”
Aidele shook her head. “You’re right. We need to play it the way you just suggested to ensure this ploy is as genuine as possible. This… damn, Durante. I like this plan. I never anticipated you being this conniving. Berricks won’t see it coming.”
She smiled broadly and Durante couldn’t help staring back into her deep brown eyes. “Th, thanks. But, don’t underestimate the general. He’s proven more clever than I’ve taken him for before. I don’t think he’ll see through this, but we have to make it look as real as possible. Any action we take, any misspoken word, and his suspicions will be up. He’s not the solar system’s greatest thinker, but his instincts I think would rival yours, Asta.”
“That’s good ta know…” Asta took a deep breath steadying herself, but Aidele figured she would play her part well and be convincing enough.
Aidele and Durante smiled at one another for a long moment not realizing they were just standing there in silence. Asta cleared her throat. “Awright, kids. Time ‘nuff fer long loving stares later. We gots a mission ta fit ourselves fer.”
Durante turned quickly away and protested, “What? No! It’s nothing like that!”
Aidele stared to the floor as Grandfather laughed and stood up. Aidele grew a deeper shade of red and found she had no words. Was she really just staring into Durante’s eyes? Grandfather clapped Durante on his back.
“We have our mission laid out then,” Grandfather said. “Whatever details lay ahead of us, we can discover how to deal with pushing forward. You still remember the layout of the Invicta, yes?”
“Y, yes,” Durante stammered. “Once we’re onboard, you and Aidele can come free us. I’ll make up a basic layout for your HUD overlays to help you navigate the Invicta, Aidele. I can take over the engine rooms and astronomics. But I’ll need protection while doing it.”
Drevan stood up and nodded towards him. “Ah’ll git yer back, son. They won’t touch ya. Ah promise.”
“When do we move?” Asta asked, her eyes showing she was aware and ready.
“As soon as we arm ourselves and settle on how the call to Berricks is going to go,” Aidele said pulling herself out of her revelry. “We should move before morning. The Invicta will still be on the dark side of Hinon, I’m sure.”
“Then, let us prepare to trip young Mr. Weiss’ cunning trap.” Grandfather nodded.
Durante smiled broadly as the room filled with motion.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE STORM
PRESIDENT ELDRIDGE LEE stood stoically, his image shimmering in the air like a little blue alien with his hands clasped behind his back. Though the projection was tiny upon the holotable, Berricks knew the man was six-foot-five in life. He was also young. Well, younger than Sam anyhow. At fifty-five, Lee was one of the youngest presidents the Union had ever had. And he cut one of the most imposing figures. So tight one would swear he was made of granite.
The dark-skinned man came from a long line of war heroes and leaders and was a person who didn’t broker with failure. Sam tried to still his quavering leg under his duster. Strangely, he wasn’t sure if his leg was shaking due to a muscle spasm, or his nervousness in delivering any news that might anger Lee.
“Mr. President, if we were only given a few more months, I’m certain I could turn it around,” Sam swallowed hard.
President Lee’s countenance was carefully measured. “I’ve granted you free run in your operations for the better part of the last year, general. Giving you time to locate your daughter, to give Sonoros’ plan another shot, to manipulate the Chuhukon Council into declaring martial law. All of it has been a failure, has it not?”
Sam could hardly reply. He slowly nodded instead and muttered, “Unfortunately.”
“Then it is time to move on. Your mission wasn’t a total loss, of course. Not even a waste of resources. In fact, the data you’ve sent back gives us quite the insight into Martian activities. The Council is useless. Insisting every last voice is heard before taking any sort of action. A man could be murdered right in their governmental headquarters and still they would fail to act.” There was a slight pause from the man, and a subtle smile. Then he continued, “They’ve grown apathetic particularly in regards to their shipping industry. It’s drying up. Their resources are dwindling, and their defense forces highly predictable. Mars is ripe for conquering.”
“I still haven’t acquired the prototype engine,” Sam said.
“As wonderful as it would be to have such technology at our disposal, it isn’t relevant for our current needs. Once Mars is back in our control, we’ll have all the time we need to track the technology down. In the interim, prepare for the First and Second fleets to join your mission. Recall the Eighth to your position. If you accomplish the task I’ve just given you, the Chuhukons will be so preoccupied with you and the Invicta they’ll never be ready for the main assault.”
A slight echo from the artifice of the projection broke the near silence of the room. There was an unsettling nausea in Sam’s gut. “How long, sir?”
“Eight hours at the most. Upon the fleets’ arrival, you will oversee the advance.”
“Sir, I—”
President Lee raised one hand, his voice booming deeply throughout the war room. “No more pleading, general. It doesn�
��t suit you. You have your orders. Carry them out.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President.”
The projection of President Lee vanished leaving Sam alone. He stared vacantly at where Lee had been. How long he stood like that, he wasn’t sure. He was hardly aware of the starcraft scuttling across the Martian atmosphere beyond the viewport. In just under five hours, the Invicta would be directly overhead Aquila Mons. That fact caused a shudder to go up his spine. His orders were orders he was in no hurry to implement. However, the First and Second fleets were on their way and there was no time left for negotiation. Gawddamned Council… Fucking huuks… All they had to do was go for it. But, no, they’d rather let the domains fend for themselves. Idiots. Where the hell is Nielson?
“Sir,” the comm buzzed.
“What is it?” he huffed.
“There’s a communique from Lieutenant Nielson.”
“‘Bout fucking time. Put him through.” The intercom cut out as a female figure with dark skin materialized over the war table. He chuckled despite himself. “You ain’ Nielson. If I’m talkin’ to you, Lynch, guess that means Nielson’s dead. Unless he just let you borrow his ID chit.”
The voice that replied was heavy in drawl and distorted by the metallic sound of distance. Still clear, but very artificial.
“Oh no, he’s quite dead, Berricks.”
Sam smiled and walked a circle around the image, the figure represented there twisting in place and following his motion as if it were an army man being controlled by some eager child. “Murderin’ a Union lieutenant was a poor choice. Bound to be serious consequences. You turnin’ yourself in? I might see it in my heart to go easy on you.”
“Ah’ve actually came to bargain wit’ ya, Berricks.” Lynch offered up a grin which he deplored. His own smile waned.
“Not much for bargaining, Lynch. ‘Sides, what would you have to offer me?”
Lynch reached offscreen and pulled somebody into view. Berricks stopped and stared in disbelief. It was Durante Weiss, cuffed and looking none too happy about it. It was almost too good to be true. This made him immediately suspicious.
“Amusing. But what makes you think I give a rat’s ass about him anymore? Last I checked, you tore off without payment and I said to hell with the little bastard.”
Lynch reached into the inner pocket of her short coat and pulled out a book. The journal he’d been after all these months. A sense of relief washed over him followed immediately by those inner alarms that screamed at a person when something was terribly amiss. He furrowed his brows as Lynch began to deliver a short soliloquy. Or tried to.
“Ya hired me ta find the journal—”
“Mr. Berricks, I’m sorry! I tried—” Weiss received a sharp slap behind the head and he went quiet.
“As ah was sayin’, ya had me runnin’ up’n down the Wastelands lookin’ fer Weiss’n this book fer weeks now,” she continued. “Then tried ta git me kilt! That gawddamned Nielson fuck threatened mah kids’n forced me’n mine ta play guinea pig wit’ Wilson at those labs! Well, we managed ta git this book’n Weiss during that damnable assault where yer boys brought the whole damned place down destroyin’ themselves, Wilson, an’ that k’ntramptyun ya was after in one fell swoop! Lucky fer us, while tryin’ ta dig our way out, we ran inta Captain Pussy here! Brought him ta Aquila Mons tryin’ ta figure out how ta contact you ta call off yer dog, when said dog waylaid us tryin’ ta claim the bounty fer hisself! An’ guess what Mr. Weiss here offered up afta a little persuasion?”
She opened the journal up to its back several pages and gave a feral grin holding it up towards Sam. Sam scowled inwardly. The diagrams were of the gravitic core. He hated her face. And hated how she talked. All of them. The Wastelands were a hive of inbred savages who barely understood language. “Why, ah believe that there’s what yer afta! Right? What’s it called, boy!?”
Weiss said something low and nearly inaudible, but Sam understood what he’d said already, verifying the authenticity of the journal. She backhanded him hard enough to send him sprawling backwards. He struggled back up to his knees, his lip gushing blood, his eye blackening. He looked up to her scowling visage in some sort of horrified surprise. She growled down at him, snarling in her anger. “What was that!?”
“Gravitic Core!”
Sam rubbed his chin. Those alarms were singing ever louder. Everything looked legitimate. But he trusted these people about as far as he could toss the Invicta and wasn’t willing to take unnecessary chances.
“And what are you wantin’ in return, Lynch?”
She thrust a finger towards him. “Ah want ya ta leave me’n mah family alone! Call off whoever gots mah kids hostage! Using them as leverage was a low act’n ah done tore Nielson apart when ah got the chance ova it! We done did all you asked us ta do!” Not exactly, Sam considered. But let her rage on nonetheless. “Now, our pact is done! Ah got yer Weiss’n yer gawddamn journal! We’re squared away’n ah want ya outta our lives!” A reasonable demand. Too reasonable. “Now, d’ya want him’n this? Or do ah jus’ hand ‘em right on ova ta the huuk Council!?”
Could this really be falling right into his lap? Right when the fleets were on their way and the mission was nearly at its end? Just flopped right down on his desk sparing them all the need to go searching across the planet for whoever held possession over the literature? He was silent for a long moment mulling it over, then dropped his hand from his chin to cross his arms over his chest. “Alright, Lynch. Where you thinking for the exchange?”
“Bay twelve of the Aquilan Mons Transportation Network. We’ll do the exchange there.”
Sam shook his head. “Nothin’ doin’, Lynch. Too public. We’ll make the exchange at Gülsen’s Point south of Aquila Prime. Be there in an hour or don’t be there at all. In which case, run and hide in some dirty little cavern away from everything and everyone and stay there until the apocalypse has finished with what’s left of your society. Computer, cut comms.”
Lynch disappeared with a protest on her lips and Sam turned to leave the chambers muttering to himself. He walked down the ramp from the war room and onto the bridge where he crossed to the center of the command platform. He cleared his throat.
“Gunnery station, bring the starboard cannons online.”
“Sir?”
“You have a problem with your hearing, lieutenant?” Sam affixed the young man at the console across from him with a steely gaze.
The young man stammered. “Y, yes, sir! I, I mean, no, sir! Right away, sir!”
A thrum reverberated all throughout the bridge and Sam knew it could be felt all across the ship as well. After a moment, the lieutenant turned around to face him once more.
“Cannons warming, general. Estimated time to full charge of compliment, twenty minutes.”
“Excellent. Once they reach full charge, keep them on standby. Input targeting coordinates for Aquila Mons.” The whole bridge went quiet and stared at him in horror. “You heard me.”
“Uh… yes… yes, sir…” the lieutenant responded and hesitantly went to work establishing the correct coordinates.
Sam stood quietly as the bridge crew waited anxiously. He understood how they felt. The last thing he wanted to do was wipe out Aquila Mons (or any of the cities for that matter). He didn’t like Mars, but he wasn’t eager to destroy it either. He just wanted to go back to his plantation. Lee, however, had been specific, this was to be the opening salvo. Cutting off the heads of government and the defense forces before they were even aware of what was happening. However, his interaction with Lynch was heavy in his thoughts. If Lynch is honest about that book… it could prove useful. Ignoring this chance could be dangerous. Especially if we’re about to level the city. To lose it now when we’re so close… What if this is our only chance to acquire this technology? Those designs… those designs were the real deal. Not some hastily thrown together nonsense. Weiss as much as validated it. That was Wilson’s journal. Who knows how prepared the outer colonies will be once they find
out what we’ve done here? Having that journal would be a major boon, an advantage they won’t have, making Lee’s gamble more likely to pay off.
Sam scowled. “Lieutenant Baker.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Hold the target coordinates until we’re overhead Aquila Mons. If I haven’t returned before we’re in range, you’re to level the city once we’re in targeting sight.”
That same silence fell across the bridge. Lieutenant Baker replied hesitantly. “Sir, are… are we really going to destroy Aquila Mons? What about the people? I… I have family there.”
Sam glared at him. “You have a task to fulfill, lieutenant. You don’t get a say in the proceedings.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Sam stared at him for a long moment and then made a decision. “You know what, lieutenant. Send a message to Commander Kyle to report to station. Have him relieve you of duty until after the mission has been completed. Repeat your orders to him and make him understand this isn’t up for negotiation. Do I make myself clear?”
“…Yes, sir, General Berricks.”
“Good. Now, contact shuttle bay nine. Inform the docking crew to prepare my shuttle. I’m heading planetside for a brief spell. Also, get two troopers to meet me at the docks. I don’t care who.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sam turned and left the bridge. Bitch better be on the level on this or I’m goin’ to take my time killin’ her.
“FUCK MY ASS!” Durante rubbed his face as he hobbled across the holobar station they rented. “What the fuck, Asta!?”
“What? Ya tol’ me ta make it look authentic.”
“Authentic, yes. But not break me in the process!” He took a seat opposite where she stood.
“Aw, poor baby! Didja need momma ta kiss yer boo-boo’n make it all betta?”
Durante gave Asta the dirtiest look he could muster and she gave a hearty laugh.
“I think it worked. I think Berricks bit our bait,” Aidele sighed and smiled. “And you were right about him suggesting Gülsen’s Point, Durante!”
Red Star Sheriff Page 50