The Belt Loop (Book Three) - End of an Empire

by Robert B. Jones

  “Alright,” Har moaned. “I see your point. But, sooner or later, I’m going to go nuts just sitting around here watching you do nothing.”

  “You won’t have too far to go, Har, you’re pretty much nuts already.”

  Har jumped on Cory’s bunk and pounded him a couple of times on his shoulder and the boys engaged in a few minutes of roughhousing until Cory managed to throw him to the floor and pin Har’s arms under his knees.

  “Let’s go over to the gym, Har,” Cory said, getting up from the floor. “Maybe they have some cool hand-to-hand classes or something. We could learn something if they have someone there to teach us.”

  Har brushed off his clothes and stood. “I can hardly wait.”

  “Aw, come on. It’ll be fun. You can blow off all of that pent up energy you carry around like an invisible twin brother.” Cory started humming eerie tunes from some ancient video Har was unfamiliar with.

  “Maybe they have boxing, too,” he answered, trying to ramp up his enthusiasm.

  “You’d better hope not, loser,” his roommate said and feinted a punch at him.

  “Throw another punch at me, you’ll pull back a steel hook, Core.”

  With that the cadets left Room B-212, laughing and playing grab-ass all the way to the gym.

  * * *

  Wilkes was a strange planet. Not only did it have a small ring system some 140,000 kilometers from its almost flat barren surface but it also had a twin, a sister planet that orbited around the common center of gravity at a mean angular distance of 1,750,000 kilometers. Wilkes was 10,050 kilometers in diameter and had a mass 1.2 times that of Earth. The twin was called Venus-II and it was totally uninhabited and covered with milky clouds and swirling storms of rarefied gasses and toxins.

  The double planet system orbited Proctor-34, a small M-class red dwarf star some 257 light-years from Canno. The planet had been one of the rest stops for the colonists on their way out to the Belt Loop back in the expansion days and the first rudimentary settlements had sprung up around the planet’s equatorial regions and had grown slowly. Wilkes was one of those “nice place to visit, but no one wants to live there” places on the star maps and its 869,000 permanent residents called it home in spite of the harsh environs and arctic-like weather.

  For most of the year, 276 days of 27.69 hours each, being outside on the surface required an environmental suit. During the short summer season, kept brief by the planet’s 32.5 degree axial tilt and its prolated cycloid orbit around Venus-II, liquid water lapped at sandy shores from yearly melting of the poles. Only one of the four major land masses was inhabited and the other three were visited only in commercial endeavors. There were also many strange sights in the skies and on the ground: the huge partner planet that eclipsed Wilkes every 55 days during the pair’s swing around Proctor-34, with an albedo bright enough to light the planet even on the darkest night; the eerie shadowy trace of the ring system marching across a cue-ball landscape; and howling winds to keep things really stirred up on the ground with snow devils and ice-spears.

  What Wilkes had that kept the colony in business was hydrogen, mostly frozen 1H protium but abundances of 2H deuterium and 3H tritium free for the taking. The ice quarries near the southern pole supplied over 40 million metric tons of hydrogen to the colonies every year and half that amount to mother Earth.

  All of which made Wilkes an important stepping stone to the Belt Loop and the colonies out near the Fringes. The standard-issue Port Authority space dock hovering over Wilkes in a stationary orbit 29,300 kilometers above the equatorial plane was always full of docked civilian and Navy ships, some inbound, some outbound, and the waiting vessels at both Lagrange points further spoke to the planet’s importance to the CAP — the Colonial Alliance of Planets.

  The four hydrogen processing plants near the major town of Gandol employed many of the planet’s residents and the Navy Base at Ordway provided jobs for the rest. The Ordway Base supplied ships for the planet’s protection and at any given moment twenty-five to thirty Navy ships could be counted in the space around Wilkes. Most were assigned to routine patrols but others were given the duty of providing escort service for some of the inbound/outbound commercial freighters heading for Ross or Canno. There had been two incidents of piracy about twenty-five years ago and one unescorted commercial tanker had been seized and held for ransom before an SWO — Special Warfare Operator — team torched its way aboard and ended the crisis. The other pirated ship had been destroyed by the inept captors and a 700,000 metric ton tanker with a crew of 100 merchantmen was lost with all hands. Now most of the boats laden with compressed hydrogen were escorted to the fold coordinates and picked up on the other end of their journeys by other Navy ships assigned to escort duties.

  When the four Colonial Navy ships unfolded 800,000 kilometers from the Wilkes Port Authority station the initial reaction from the port commander was one of disbelief. His board showed no inbound traffic or escorts from Canno at this time.

  “Say again, Lake Powell, state your situation.”

  “This is Captain Jon Walls, CN356774, piloting the CNS Lake Powell, official designation TCV-442 out of Canno. I am declaring an emergency, commander. I have three additional boats on my tail: the Colorado River, the Lake Placid and the Erie Canal. Sir, we’re pretty beat up and request immediate docking. Wilkes Port Authority, come in. . .”

  “Captain Walls, stand by, one,” the PA commander said.

  Commander Benni Hodges looked at his status board. All of his slots were filled and he had seven ships waiting for their berths. “Captain Walls, state the nature of your emergency,” he said.

  “State the nature —”

  “What is the nature of your emergency, captain? What kind of assistance do your require?”

  “Look out of your window, moron! See those ships on fire at your two six seven? That would be the nature of my fucking emergency! We just made the fold from Canno. The base there has been wiped off the map!”

  Another voice broke in on the conversation, a calm female voice. “Captain Walls, this is Captain McGee, blue shift supervisor at the Wilkes PA complex. Slow down, captain, and give me a couple of deep breaths. Are your ships capable of making dock? What are you doing to suppress your fires? Do you need rescue boats at your location?”

  “Look,” Captain Walls said, “two of these ships are burning hydrogen to vacuum, I don’t know how long they can hold out before the bottles rupture. Those are the two trailing vessels, the Lake Placid and the Erie. They both lost their comm towers during the exchange with Varson ships. I sent a lifeboat back there during the trip out and they are in bad shape. Get us some help out here as soon as you can, Wilkes.”

  “And you, captain? Can you make port without blowing up my facility, sir?”

  Static and a very pregnant pause.

  Captain Tina McGee looked at her screens and zeroed in on the limping ships. The lead vessel was smoking from its aft quarter; another ship on her left flank was seemingly intact but listing to starboard: damaged Higgs Field generator most likely. Trailing these were two fast-attack boats blowing gouts of blue flame into the void. Possibly hulled engine compartments. The last of the two burning ships was slowing and falling away.

  “I see your point, Captain McGee. Suggest you get a fire suppression team launched to our location soonest. Send some enginemen and hull ratings out, too. We’ll park our boats at your leading Lagrange and await further instructions. Get those rescue boats underway at your earliest, captain. Lives are at stake.”

  “Roger, Lake Powell. The alarm has been sent. ETA one five mikes. Go to one niner eight point seven, PA emergency frequency, and keep this station apprised of your condition. Blip your transponder beacon to notify your trailing ships that help is on the way,” Captain McGee instructed.

  “Aye, ma’am, Hey look, sorry about that little outburst of mine, I was —”

  “Belay that apology, captain. Meet the F&R teams on one niner eight point seven. Good luck to you.�
��

  Captain Walls was about to acknowledge the frequency shift when a loud squealing sound overrode his transmission. Inside the PA control center, McGee yanked her headset away from her ears and turned around in her seat. The original operator, Commander Hodges, stood and pointed. From his observation window he saw a huge blossom of angry yellow and light blue light bubbling in the distance. The squeal was from the frying transponder and communications circuits. One of the incoming ships had just exploded. God, if they were in that bad of shape, no way they were going to make a 90-million-kilometer run out to the leading Lagrange point.

  McGee looked down at her board. Three incoming IFF signatures remained at two six seven degrees. She touched the screen beside the first line of code: CNS LAKE POWELL - TCV-442. Captain Walls was still transmitting. She checked the rest. The missing ship was the Erie Canal. She touched the control square on her console and brought the ship up on her screen. CCV-413, crew of 275 out of Canno.

  Walls had said Canno was gone. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say.

  She watched as the first of the F&R boats silently jetted away from the orbiting PA dock. By this time the debris cloud from the Erie Canal had already started to dissipate.

  Chapter 10

  When the replay spooled to a finish Bale Phatie stood and thumped his chest. “Praise the Deliverer,” he said triumphantly. “What we have just seen is the beginning of the end for our human tormenters. Now we have a weapon that will strike deep within their heart, a weapon that once unleashed on their colonial worlds will drive them out of this arm of the galaxy for good. We will show no mercy, give no quarter. The human presence in the Malguur Domain will come to a withering end once we attack another one of their planets. Admiral Regiid, what is the next target?”

  “Your eminence, the next human world to suffer our wrath should be the double planet the humans call Wilkes.” He pointed to a dull red orb almost a thousand light-years from Rauud Mithie. Seven tiny pearls were strung along an invisible string away from the star with the second one closest to the red dwarf being a couplet. “This is the star we call Yeengii. The human name for it is Proctor number thirty-four. It is the perfect target, sir. Not only is it a double-planet system, it also is rich in molecular hydrogen in its frozen wastelands about the poles. A double-pronged attack on Wilkes should also include the sister world as well.”

  Phatie walked around the holographic display in his war room. Several members of his inner circle, his Uurgud, moved aside to give him room, sliding their chairs back on the polished stone floor. Most of these soldiers had earned their ceremonial swords in battle and the clattering of metal greeted Phatie as he moved into position. These men were not allowed to wear sidearms in his presence. The decorations and chains on his sash tinkled out an ominous, hollow sound as he moved. He stopped next to Admiral Regiid and looked at the system.

  “Are we equipped to handle a trip of that great distance, admiral? What would be the estimated travel time?”

  Regiid backed away a few meters and looked skyward, as if in contemplative thought. Actually he was positioning himself away from Phatie’s sword hand. “We are prepared, my eminence. I have six tankers standing at the ready and this time we will commit a dozen ships to the enterprise. With your approval, of course.”

  Phatie swept his dark green cape away and put one hand on the butt of his projectile gun. Several of his body guards stiffened and Lieutenant Manciir found something interesting flying by the window at that precise moment.

  But it was a false alarm. Phatie merely adjusted his various straps and belts surrounding his thin muscular frame. He leaned in and examined the Wilkes system more closely. After a minute of silent thought he raised his head and looked at Regiid.

  “Excellent choice, admiral. How long a trip is this? Did you say?”

  “The dozen ships and the six tender craft all have the new drive components, sir. We could make the jump in only one cycle, or roughly two of their weeks. While in transit I will have my men assemble more weapons to be used against this sister world. There is no life on the planet, eminence, but a show of our destructive powers would make a compelling statement to the humans. It may even make them abandon their other colonies.”

  “Good thought, Regiid. You have my blessing. Make the final preparations for this attack on Wilkes. I wish to launch within the cycle. We must keep the pressure on the humans. I know it will take them a while to assess the damage to their Canno colony, and while they are scratching their collective heads over that planet, we will already be moving toward Wilkes, something they will not expect.” The Piru Torgud swept away from the holographic display and returned to the far wall. Once in place a few meters from the video screen he said, “Manciir, replay the recording. My only regret is that this Canno outpost only has a few million inhabitants. Once we break the back of the human resistance and venture into their population centers, take the battle to Elber Prime and beyond, only then will I feel avenged for the losses on Nuurhe, Hyfuur and Brauud. We must kill them all, gentlemen, we must rid this arm of the galaxy of the human stain.”

  Lieutenant Manciir scurried to the sideboard and started the video recording for the second time. On the screen was the image of Canno in full daylight. The Malguurian ships were coming in with the sun at their backs. Off to the right a full Luna-II hovered some distance from the planet. The imaging drones were in close and the details of the various land masses and oceans could be seen clearly through the breaks in the clouds. Near the equatorial bulge on the eastern edge of the planet a tiny spark erupted in the thick growing cold front moving eastward toward night. The device had reached its triggering point.

  In a flash a huge clear hole was blasted in the clouds and a roiling circlet of blue white flame circled the widening hole. Bolts of bright lightning lit the surrounding clouds in angry moving flashes. The exploding torus of energy seemed to fold in on itself, producing orange and green flames that bubbled out of the central explosion. For two or three seconds the planet looked like a piece of rotting fruit with light orange and blue insects crawling across its cloud tops. Then a second or two later the entirety of the image flared out and the screen was filled with the static of the microwave background noise. The cameras on the second drone kicked in and from a more acute angle the streaming video resumed. Now the planet was seen as a waning crescent and the firestorm pushed downward by the antimatter weapon could be seen in profile. Once the fireball hit the surface of the planet the images bounced a few frames and then switched to slow-motion. It was as if some giant hand had dropped a fiery balloon of energy down onto the surface and when the ball of fire hit the planet and burst, the flames spread in every direction away from the impact point. A concussion wave was clearly visible on the screen, racing along the ground seconds behind the faster fires, smashing and flattening everything the fires failed to destroy. The slow motion video just served to heighten Bale Phatie’s joy at what he was witnessing. Soon the images were done and the screen went dark for a second and the background static filled the flickering, pixilated display.

  Twenty men in the room all thumped their chests in unison. “Hail Malguur!” they shouted in a collective salute.

  “And, as you have just seen, this is only the beginning. Once we displace this human menace from these feeble colonies,” Bale Phatie proclaimed, “we will follow their dropped crumbs back to the source. We will strike at the diseased heart of the Human Empire. We will take this fight, this weapon, and decimate Haines-II, Ross, Gundy and Freehold. Yes, that’s our long range goal, men. We will take the battle to their home world. We will destroy their Earth. I’m told it has over thirty billion humans there.”

  A light chatter spread through the war room. Phatie relished the fact that his information regarding the Human Empire was exciting news to his men, news perhaps they had never heard before. Once again, he owed a debt to his traitorous operative Inskaap for providing him with the true accounting of the human presence in the galaxy. A de
bt he was determined to pay off personally and painfully.

  He waved a hand to silence the room. “Admiral Regiid, show the room where this motherlode of a planet is.”

  Regiid stepped forward and slid his hands across the control panel in the fascia of the holographic diorama. Stars and clouds of dust whizzed by at a rapid pace and once Regiid was close to his objective he used his index finger on the touch pad to narrow the display down to the tiny yellow G2V star. “This is the system, my eminence. It is not visible without visual aids from Canuure. It is just one of roughly 15.2 billion yellow dwarf stars in the galaxy and other than being the spawning ground of this human scourge, it is nothing remarkable. We estimate this star, as of yet unnamed by our astronomers, is about twenty-six hundred of their light-years away from Canuure.”

  A vast distance, indeed, Phatie thought. Not insurmountable, but vast just the same. In his mind he could see the Malguur Navy stepping through the human colonies on their journey to the human birthplace, like a person stepping on flat river rocks to cross a swiftly-moving stream. He would put his boot heel on all of the colonial planets in his quest to decimate the humans, his plan of Vanuuiad.

  “That,” Phatie exclaimed, “is our goal. Once we decimate the colonies, we head for this star.”

  A healthy round of chest thumping ensued and before long, much to his satisfaction, his men demanded the video of the destruction of Canno be played again.