“I’ll see you this afternoon,” he said. “Hopefully, we should have some new figures to play with.”
“Understood,” Monica said. She didn’t have many duties at the moment, either, leaving her at something of a loose end. “Good luck with the meeting.”
Richard nodded as he walked past her and stepped into the shower. There were no water restrictions for senior officers, something that amused and annoyed him in equal measure. There was no need for water restrictions, even for the lowliest crewmen. But it was tradition and the Royal Navy was all about tradition. His lips curved into a thin smile as he turned on the water. He didn’t mind the tradition about putting his body between his homeworld and an alien threat, but he drew the line at water conservation measures. It wasn’t as if Invincible couldn’t capture a comet!
He basked under the water as long as he dared, then grabbed a towel and dried himself before stepping back into the cabin. Monica was gone, for better or worse. He hoped she hadn’t been seen as she left the compartment. Nothing moved faster than scuttlebutt, even on a giant assault carrier. If someone had seen her leave, it would be all around the ship by the end of the day. And then ... it would only be a matter of time before the senior officers heard the news.
Although they might not pay any attention to the babble, he thought, as he pulled on his tunic and inspected himself in the mirror. His uniform looked impeccable, but his eyes were dark and shadowed through lack of sleep. By the time the rumour reaches their ears, it will have grown out of all proportion.
Richard smiled at the thought as he picked up his terminal and opened his inbox. There was a whole string of emails, none of which seemed particularly urgent. A couple looked to have already been superseded before he’d even had a chance to read them. He swallowed a curse as he slipped his terminal onto his belt and headed for the hatch. His life would be a great deal easier if the strategic planning officers on Nelson Base would make up their minds before sending him advance orders. He simply didn’t have the time to constantly prepare to receive new starfighters and their pilots who didn’t even make it to the hangar deck before they were reassigned.
He stepped through the hatch and strode up the long corridor towards the conference room, passing a trio of jogging marines and a handful of dockyard workers on the way. The ship was still being patched together after the last encounter with the aliens, something that made him fairly certain that he would be reassigned sooner or later. Invincible was a powerful ship - and the Royal Navy wasn’t about to scrap her - but it would be months before she could return to the front line. There was no point in assigning starfighters to a ship that couldn’t even serve as a glorified hangar. He scowled at the thought. Clearly, some idiot on Nelson Base hadn’t got the memo. They were still moving starfighters around the system like pieces on a chessboard.
“Ah, Commander Redbird,” Commander Daniel Newcomb said, as Richard entered the conference room. “Take a seat, please. And wait.”
“Yes, sir,” Richard said.
He stepped past Newcomb and took a seat, trying to relax. The XO was clearly worried about something. Rumour had it that the XO had been offered - and refused - command of his own starship, although Richard didn’t believe it. Very few officers would refuse a command, particularly when doing so practically guaranteed that the Royal Navy wouldn’t offer him another one. Better to command a garbage scow than be permanently denied a shot at the captain’s chair. No, the XO wasn’t being reassigned. He would be gone by now if someone had offered him his own ship.
Richard leaned back in his chair, accepted a cup of coffee from the steward and forced himself to watch as the room steadily filled with officers. Lieutenant-Commander David Arthur, the tactical officer; Chief Engineer Theodore Rutgers, looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink for the last week; Major Henry Parkinson, Royal Marines ... the XO had summoned every departmental head on the ship. Richard took a sip of his coffee, gritting his teeth against the sudden feeling of acid in his stomach. This was no mere meeting, he decided; this was serious. They hadn’t held a formal conference since ... since Invincible had left the shipyard for the first time.
“Captain on deck,” Newcomb said, sharply.
“Remain seated,” Captain Shields said. He strode into the room, waving Major Parkinson back into his chair. “We have much to discuss.”
Richard nodded, tersely. Captain Shields looked as if he hadn’t slept either ... where had he been? The last Richard had heard, Captain Shields had been recalled to Earth to brief the First Space Lord personally. Richard didn’t envy him. Captain Shields was very well connected - something Richard envied - but that wouldn’t always work in his favour. An aristocratic officer could expect more surveillance than someone who’d worked his way up from midshipman to captain or even admiral. His family would drop him like a hot rock if he let the side down.
Captain Shields sat down. “You may not have heard yet - the government has been trying to keep word from spreading - but, twenty-four hours ago, there were a series of terrorist attacks on Earth. A number of military and civil locations were attacked by armed insurgents. So far, the investigations have barely begun” - he held up a hand to forestall questions - “but it is clear that the virus was directly involved. The attackers were all infected and, presumably, no longer in control of themselves.”
Shit, Richard thought.
“There’s no presumably about it,” Major Parkinson rumbled. “They were enslaved from the moment they were infected.”
“How the hell did they get down to Earth?” Newcomb sounded as if he didn’t want to believe it. “We have all the orbital towers and spaceports locked down tight.”
“We don’t know,” Captain Shields said. “And we don’t have time for speculation. The worse news is, practically simultaneously, there was another attack on Falkirk. This one was successful.”
Richard felt his stomach twist as he realised the implications. If the MNF had been defeated - or destroyed - the virus would have a clear path to Earth. Even if it hadn’t been destroyed, the virus would have access to dozens of lightly-defended colony worlds ... they wouldn’t stand a chance when the virus took control of the high orbitals. There were contingency plans, he was sure, for the colonists to go underground, but ... how could they hope to hold out when the virus could twist their own people against them? The entire population might as well be composed of traitors.
“They couldn’t have taken out the entire fleet,” Arthur said. “The MNF is - was - the most powerful fleet short of Earth itself.”
“The fleet is falling back,” Captain Shields said. “And we’re going to meet them.”
“Captain ...” Chief Engineer Theodore Rutgers swallowed hard and started again. “Captain, with all due respect, we are not remotely ready to leave spacedock, let alone return to the front lines. It will take months to carry out even the most essential of repairs.”
Newcomb smiled, humourlessly. “And how long will it really take you?”
Rutgers was too tired to dissemble. “Commander, months is an optimistic estimate. We took one hell of a beating and ...”
Captain Shields held up a hand. “I’m aware of our condition,” he said. “And so is the Admiralty. They are, however, determined to put us back on the front lines.”
Richard felt his heart sink. They hate us.
“We will have first call on everything,” the captain added. “Everything the shipyard has is ours, if we need it. We can take whatever we need, from supplies to dockyard workers. We have a blank cheque, as long as we are ready for deployment in a week or so.”
“Fuck.” Rutgers looked at the table. “Captain ... it won’t be easy.”
“I know.” Captain Shields scowled. “But we have to do it.”
Rutgers shook his head slowly. “Give me an hour and I can draw up a basic plan of attack,” he said. “The most important issues can be tackled fairly quickly, if they let us cannibalise a couple of half-built ships. But ... we won’t be at full figh
ting trim. At best, we’ll be at eighty percent ...”
“Which means we’ll all be flogged if the Adjutant General’s Corps bothers to carry out an inspection,” Newcomb said. “Or are all the petty little safety regulations being put aside in times of war?”
“Yes,” Captain Shields said, flatly. His voice was utterly toneless. “No one is expecting miracles, Commander. They just want us on the front lines as quickly as possible.”
They are expecting miracles, Richard thought.
Captain Shields met Richard’s eyes. “We’re going to be assigned new starfighters and pilots,” he said, curtly. “You’ll get a fuller breakdown within the hour, once they’ve finalised the deployments, but it looks as if you’ll be getting pilots from Europe as well as Britain and the Commonwealth. I trust that won’t be a problem?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” Richard said. He kept his face impassive. There would be all sorts of minor problems, the kind of issues that were normally sorted out during the shakedown cruise. This time, they’d be going to war without working the kinks out first. “I think we can handle it.”
“Good,” Captain Shields said. “Let me know if there are any major issues that need to be smoothed out.”
Just me, Richard thought. “Yes, sir.”
“Major Parkinson, you’ll be keeping most of your detachment,” Captain Shields said. “I want you and your men to run security at all access points. No one is to get onto this ship without having their blood tested, repeatedly. I don’t know how the virus managed to get to Earth without being detected, but I don’t want it repeating the same feat here.”
“Yes, sir,” Parkinson said.
“Captain, we cannot afford to have our work impeded,” Rutgers said. “There will be a lot of engineers coming in and out of the ship at all times.”
“We’ll just have to cope,” Captain Shields said. “We have to assume the worst, at least until we know how the virus got to Earth.”
And we might never know, Richard thought. The virus couldn’t have slipped through the orbital checkpoints, could it? He thought the checks were infallible, but ... what if he was wrong? The virus might have found a way to get through without setting off all kinds of alarms.
“We’ll do our best, Captain,” Rutgers said. The engineer looked worried. “But I caution you that any disruption is going to have the most disruptive effects.”
“Deal with it,” Newcomb growled. The XO crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s more at stake here than us.”
“True, Mr. XO,” Captain Shields agreed. He looked from officer to officer. “I know it won’t be easy. I know we will not be departing with a full load. I know we may take grievous damage in our next engagement because repairs weren’t carried out properly. But we have no choice. If the virus can’t be stopped ...”
Richard nodded, shortly. He’d seen the projections, both civil and military. They were uncomfortable viewing. The virus might be unstoppable if it gained a solid foothold in human space. And then ... he shuddered. There would be no resistance, no insurgency against alien masters. Independent thought wouldn’t even be a memory. Humanity would simply cease to exist. It would be the end.
And that means we have to fight, he thought, numbly. No wonder the Admiralty was so keen to get Invincible back to the front lines. There was no other choice. Better to die fighting than to be infected and absorbed.
“I expect each and every one of you to do your utmost to prepare for departure on schedule,” the captain said. “We’ll get some rest when we’re on the way. Dismissed.”
Chapter Six
“I thought you said you couldn’t read my mind,” Alice grumbled.
She glared at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t the first time she’d had an EEG scan - she’d had her brainwaves monitored during advanced training - but she had to admit that Doctor Bendix’s scanner was hellishly intimidating. It felt oddly heavy against her bare scalp. The sensors attached to her chest and the handful of holographic displays, blinking constantly, made it worse. She couldn’t escape the feeling that they were probing her very thoughts themselves.
“Technically, we can’t,” Doctor Bendix said. He was examining one of the displays, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “But we can make some educated guesses about what you’re thinking and feeling at any given time.”
Alice glanced at him. “Right now, I’m feeling homicidal,” she said. “Does that show up on your monitors?”
“I can see your irritation, even anger,” Bendix said. “But you’re not about to lose control.”
“If you say so,” Alice said. She resisted the urge to unleash her anger. “What are you trying to do?”
Bendix gave her a faint smile. “Right now, we’re attempting to determine how you alter your scent,” he said. “If we can figure out how you’re doing it, we should be able to duplicate it. Or trigger it in the other infected ...”
“Eat curried eggs,” Hammersmith said. He was standing by the hatch, looking terribly out of place. “Or go out on the town for a night of kebabs and curry. That always changes my scent.”
“I know.” Alice snorted at the weak joke. “Believe me, I know.”
“I don’t think that will be much help,” Bendix said, stiffly. “We have to figure out how you release command pheromones.”
“You want to devise a stink bomb,” Alice said. “Or something along those lines.”
“Quite,” Bendix agreed. “It might make it impossible for the virus to coordinate its efforts if the pheromone channel is completely jammed up.”
“I won’t shower for a week,” Hammersmith offered. “And then you can throw me into the arms of the enemy.”
“That would be everyone, if you don’t shower for a day,” Tindal jibed. “Just imagine the scene. Where is the stink bomb? He got strangled by his own bleeping side!”
“It has to be the right kind of stench,” Bendix said. He took one last look at the displays and stepped back. “Alice? If you’d like to issue a command ...?”
Alice gathered herself. “Stop!”
There was a pause. “Interesting,” Bendix said. “There was relatively little brainwave activity, but the pheromones spiked anyway.”
“Are you saying she’s stupid?” Hammersmith said. “Or that she just doesn’t think ...”
Alice scowled at him. “Just you wait.”
Bendix ignored the byplay. “When you walk and talk, you do it without thinking.”
“Definitely,” Tindal said. “We had noticed Hammersmith says things without thinking.”
“You may think about what you’re doing,” Bendix said, “but you’re not thinking about how you’re doing it. You don’t have to tell your legs how to move when you walk, for example, and you don’t have to concentrate on how you talk to talk. Your body does it for you.”
“And we don’t know how we do it,” Alice said. She tried to put it into words. “Like ... like you don’t have any trouble breathing when you’re not thinking about breathing, but if you start thinking about it you have to force yourself to take breaths.”
“Pretty much, yes,” Bendix said. “The virus has modified your body. You seem to have acquired new organs and a control system, but you don’t know how you use it.”
“I didn’t even know I had it until I came here,” Alice said. “All I knew was that it had altered my scent in some way.”
“Yeah.” Bendix returned his attention to the displays. “Give us another command.”
“Walk forward,” Alice barked.
“A little more activity on that one, I fancy,” Bendix said. “We may be able to duplicate it.”
“And then what?” Alice’s head was itching. It was all she could do to keep from lifting the helmet and scratching her scalp. “What can you do with it?”
“Simulate the unconscious reaction,” Bendix said. “And then we can use it to turn the other infected into pheromone factories.”
“I see,” Alice said. “How? In small words
, please.”
Bendix waved a hand at the displays. “Basically, we copy what you do and transfer it to one of the other infected,” he said. “And then we simulate the reaction in their bodies.”
“That sounds a little ominous,” Alice said.
“It is.” Bendix didn’t look at her. “We can use the technology to trigger someone’s pain receptors, for example, or make them aroused beyond all restraint. It has been done, from time to time. The technology is kept under very close control.”
Alice frowned. “Do you use this to torture people?”
“Not in the sense you mean,” Bendix said. “But we have used the technology, at times, to inspect someone’s nerves. Tiny jolts of pain can show us what, if anything, is wrong with the victim’s nervous system. And ... we have had some success with other applications.”
The Right of the Line Page 6