Cassandra's War: A Sci-Fi Corporate Technothriller (The SynCorp Saga Book 2)

by Pourteau, Chris

  Commander Daudi Ibekwe, captain of the Dauntless , was a man of medium height, made shorter by a perpetual stoop and blooming potbelly. Not an inspiring figure in uniform, but he came with the highest recommendations for tactical brilliance. His handshake was dry and disciplined.

  “Welcome aboard, General Graves. I have the fleet commanders standing by in the ready room.”

  Graves searched the man’s face for any sign of irony but found none. The “fleet” was half a dozen MOABs with their guts ripped out. Three unarmed dropships intended to ferry supplies between a MOAB and a mining station were parked in each of the converted mining vessels. Each dropship would carry a team of three combat engineers and a squad of six marines, the max they could fit in the space.

  Hardly an invasion force, but it was all he could cobble together under the auspices of his relocation efforts. Graves just wanted to buy the Haven fleet enough time to get into orbit and make their escape. It would have to do.

  The ready room, like the rest of the Dauntless , was a no-frills affair. He took his seat at the head of the plain plastic table facing the six MOAB commanders.

  Graves scanned their faces. They were all army combat engineer professionals in their twenties or early thirties, but to his worried gaze they looked even younger. Before they’d been assigned to him, they’d flown around the world on humanitarian missions, trying to make the world safe from climate change. They built schools and dams and bridges, anything to improve the lot of their fellow man against a rebelling planet.

  Now they were going into battle with the tools of their trade. Not to build but to destroy .

  Ibekwe took his seat to Grave’s right. “Ready when you are, sir.”

  Graves took a full beat before he spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, in the next two hours we will commence a massive airlift of refugees from the planet’s surface. The most prominent ships in the airlift will be the Haven sites.”

  A ripple of confusion ran through the room. Graves let it run its course. “The Havens are not bunkers, as you’ve been led to believe; they’re ships. Ships that are capable of interstellar travel.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. Did you say interstellar?” The speaker was a young woman with her dark hair drawn back into a stub of a ponytail. Her nametag said Quincy. “You mean to the Moon?”

  “No.” Graves let the denial rest for a moment. “The Havens are humanity’s backup plan and the technology they carry is far too valuable to fall into the wrong hands. Our mission is to make sure they make it safely away from Earth.” He nodded to Ibekwe, who called up a holo of the Neo space station.

  “Your crews have been carefully screened to ensure there are no members of the New Earth Order among them,” Graves began.

  “The Neos? You mean the religious cult?” someone asked.

  “They’re much more than that,” Graves said. “The tattoo they carry is not some innocuous symbol of faith. It’s an implant, capable of transmitting and receiving information, capable of mind control. This organization is armed and very dangerous. Cassandra will do anything to stop the Havens. It’s our job to stop her.”

  He called up a hologram in the center of the table. “We have information that this is their command center. If we can disable this station, we can give the Havens time to get into orbit and get away safely.”

  All eyes were on the hologram, a long cylinder pocked with docking ports and airlocks. There was a figure of Dauntless for scale. The station towered over the tiny Y-class sloop.

  “You want us to attack a space station?” The tone of voice of the questioner was awestruck. “With mining equipment?”

  “It’s what we’ve got,” Graves said.

  “Are there defensive weapons?” someone else said.

  Ibekwe answered. “We’ve done a visual pass on the station.” He highlighted a ring of wart-like protrusions around the circumference of the structure. “We believe these are concealed rail guns, and this bulge directly above the reactor”—he highlighted a domed structure like a crown on the very top of the station—“could be an energy weapon.”

  The room stared at the dome. “How big is that thing?” asked Quincy.

  “Thirty meters,” Ibekwe replied through gritted teeth. “If our analysis is right, it could take out anything in its line of sight.”

  Graves took over. “The Havens will start their launch sequence as soon as North America passes out of range of the Neo station. That will give them a thirty-six-minute window to get into orbit before they are visible to the enemy again. Any time they need after that thirty-six minutes has to come from us.”

  “How long do they need, sir?” It was Quincy again.

  “Minimum sixty minutes, assuming no technical issues,” Graves said.

  The young faces that looked back at him were stoic but resolved .

  “There’s one more thing,” Graves said. “The Neos are behind the weather disasters. You all probably know people who have lost loved ones. This is your chance to make that right.”

  Around the table, the weight of their mission registered on the young faces.

  He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, people, this is not a volunteer mission. I selected each of you for your particular skill set, experience, and ability to get the job done. I need you for this mission, period. I need to know I can count on each of you.”

  No one moved. He waited for a full minute, taking his time to meet the gaze of each individual, assess their mettle. They were scared, but then again so was he. It was a strange feeling, sort of like standing on top of a lighthouse, screaming into the wind.

  “All right, then,” Graves said grimly. “Commander Ibekwe, the floor is yours.”

  • • •

  The hologram hadn’t done it justice. The Neo station was huge, half again the size of its nearest neighbor in the orbital ring. Graves gripped the armrest of the command chair on the bridge of the Dauntless . His palms were sweaty.

  “Assets are in position, sir,” Ibekwe said from his perch behind the weapons console. He switched the main screen to a tactical view, showing the Neo station in red and six green MOABs moving in orbital traffic. Marked with various corporate logos, they were spread out, each following a false flight plan, seemingly headed toward one or another of the stations in orbit. In theory, by the time the MOABs were near enough to begin the boarding action, there wouldn’t be much the New Earthers could do to prevent it.

  The battle plan was simple. Three MOABs would attack the reactor end of the station to disable the energy weapon. The other three would concentrate on the communications array to prevent the enemy from summoning reinforcements. Graves wished for some real fighting assets, the kind that existed planetside. Missiles, and maybe a nuke or two for good measure.

  “Open a channel with Haven Six,” he said.

  “Channel open, sir.”

  The compact frame of Captain Rickard came into view.

  “What’s your status, Captain?” Graves said.

  “All Havens ready for launch, General.”

  Graves nodded. “Very well. What is it you swabbies say? Fair winds and following seas?”

  A smile ghosted Rickard’s lips. “Thank you, sir. For everything.”

  “Start your launch sequence, Captain. You can thank me by getting those people out of here safely. Dauntless , out.”

  The tactical screen reappeared.

  “Commander Ibekwe,” Graves announced in a steady voice. “Position the MOABs for the attack.”

  “Aye, sir.” The coded orders streamed out to the MOABs in the form of an innocuous message about job opportunities on Mars. Subtly, the disconnected flight paths of the MOABs began to converge lazily on the Neo station.

  “They think they have a goddess on their side,” Ibekwe said.

  “Well, we have the armed forces of the United States on ours,” Graves said. God help us.

  Chapter 20

  Luca Vasquez • Haven 6

  By the time the Haven dome was sealed, Luca w
as so busy she had no time to think about Remy Cade. Hannah had arranged for the Neo members of the Haven 6 Pioneers to be among the last to enter the dome.

  It was a simple matter to shunt them into a side room off the flight deck and deactivate the nanites in their implants. These were all people who had been poked and prodded in all manner of ways as part of their acceptance into the Pioneer program, so they thought nothing of another test. After the first group, she had dialed the correct dosage in so that the effect on the patient was no more than a tingling in the nape of their neck. Two men objected to the treatment and she used the broadband signal—Graves’s so-called Disruptor—to knock them unconscious.

  “We’ve processed the last of the Neos,” she reported proudly to Hannah Jansen. “We’re clean.”

  “Well done, Luca. I’ll let the captain know.” She peered at Luca’s image. “How’re you doing? ”

  Hannah meant how she was feeling about Remy, of course, but Luca feigned indifference. “It was never going to work out with us, you know? Me a single woman, him a single man, trapped together for a hundred years. Really, Hannah, what was I thinking?” Her tone sharpened into bitterness at the end, and she saw Hannah react to it. She also saw her friend glance away from the screen. Jansen was busy; Luca was being selfish.

  “Don’t worry about me, Hannah. I’m fine. I just thought it would work out different for us—for me.” She felt heat creeping up her neck and pressure building behind her eyes. “I need to go,” Luca said, ending the call.

  She busied herself with packing away the medical supplies and loading them on a cart to take back to the medical deck. A three-tone chime sounded over the all-ship intercom.

  “All Haven personnel, report to your pod assignments.”

  In preparation for sealing the dome, the Pioneers had been organized into pseudo-family units called pods, a cross-section of age, gender, and skills that was supposed to stand in for the lack of nuclear families aboard the Havens. Whereas Luca and Donna had no other family left, many of the Pioneers had volunteered to leave theirs, difficult as it was, in the hope of starting a better future life.

  All the Pioneers knew what they were getting themselves into. Once the domes were sealed, they stayed sealed for the next century, completely cut off from the outside world. All the living and dying and loving and loss happened under the dome. All they had was each other.

  Luca made her way swiftly through the hallways to her pod’s assigned meeting place in the level 10 mess deck. The emotional electricity in the air was palpable. Excitement, fear, resolve, and a true realization of what they had given up to be here at this moment in history.

  The next few minutes were critical. The true nature of the Havens would be revealed to everyone. How would they react?

  Over the past two weeks, select members of the Pioneers had been briefed about the upcoming space flight. Like her, they had already given their feedback about which crew members might react badly to the news. A few—very few—Pioneers had been ushered out of the Haven before the dome was sealed. The rest were here for the duration.

  Donna waited for her at their assigned table. Luca scanned the other faces in her pod. Damien, a mid-twenties redheaded engineer; Althea, a psychologist from Berkeley; Quinn, a quiet female biologist from Canada who spent most of her time gazing at Damien; and Mundo, a black army sergeant who was talking with Luca’s younger sister.

  Luca inserted herself between Mundo and Donna.

  “What the hell, sis?” Donna said under her breath.

  Luca smiled at Mundo in a way that said back off .

  The three-time chime sounded again, and Luca saw a new feed come into her data glasses. They had all been issued new glasses equipped with a command override for the Haven senior staff. When she opened the feed, the image of a trim military officer in a dark blue jumpsuit filled her screen.

  “Good afternoon, Pioneers. My name is Captain Tristan Rickard of the United States vessel Haven Six.” He paused and Luca scanned the members of her pod. Althea and Mundo had already been briefed, but Quinn and Damien had perplexed looks about why they had a captain and why he was calling their new home a vessel.

  “The Haven project is more than just a passive program to wait out the next century underground. It is a proactive plan for the preservation of our species. Scientists have identified a planet in the Alpha Centauri system that is suitable for human life. The true mission of the Haven program is to colonize that planet. You have all been selected for your skills, your intelligence, and above all your grit to attack this new challenge. You are true Pioneers in every sense of the word.”

  He paused again. An animation sequence showed a flyby of a planet and then a cylindrical spaceship, presumably a Haven, in orbit. Luca caught Quinn’s eye and smiled. The young woman’s face shone with excitement. “This is so cool,” she mouthed to Luca, who nodded back and reflected her smile. Mundo and a frowning Damien were involved in a deep sidebar conversation, with Althea eavesdropping. So far, so good.

  The animation sequence showed a flock of small spacecraft disassembling the Haven ship into segments and taking them down the planet surface.

  “Inside each Haven vessel, we have the people, the tools, and the resources to establish a viable colony on our new home. Each ship is equipped with a next-generation propulsion system called a GEMDrive, which is capable of taking us faster and farther than any spaceship in the history of our planet. We have a long trip ahead of us, Pioneers, but with your support and your courage, we will ensure that the human race lives on.”

  Luca was surprised to hear a wave of applause ripple through the lounge over the hubbub of excited voices .

  “We’ll be lifting off in the next thirty minutes,” Captain Rickard continued. “The transit from the planet surface into orbit will be rough, so please, all nonessential personnel are asked to return to your cabins, strap into your bunks, and wait for further instructions.”

  Luca quickly reported the results of her pod observations back to the monitor and took Donna’s hand. The atmosphere in the lounge was euphoric, with high-fives and hugs and plenty of tears. She passed a few shocked faces, a few angry ones, but the mood overall was positive.

  She did not release Donna’s hand until they were back in their shared cabin. The girl made a great show of flexing her hand as if Luca’s grip had been too tight, but she was smiling too.

  “Mundo’s cute,” Donna said, needling her.

  “You’re too young,” Luca replied.

  Donna spread her hands, palms up. “Hey, sis, I’m the next generation. I got my whole life ahead of me.”

  Luca felt a sudden stab of panic. She had made this choice for her sister without regard for what she wanted. What kind of person did that?

  Donna wrapped her arms around Luca. A solid hug, a real hug, not some lame teenage half attempt at affection. Donna kissed her. “Thank you, sis. You gave me a second chance. This is the right thing for us. There’s nothing for us here on Earth, right? Let’s try a new planet for a change.”

  The tears came unbidden like water cresting a dam. Luca hung on to her sister and sobbed into her shoulder. The stress of the last months with Donna in the hospital, the work in the lab on animal—then human—subjects .

  And Remy. She had thought maybe, just maybe, he was the one for her. He understood the real danger of the Neos, understood it in his gut like she did—and he wasn’t afraid to fight back either. She agreed to feed him information because she knew he wouldn’t let her down. She knew .

  But he did. And that broke her already fragile heart.

  “Hey.” Donna pried their bodies apart and pressed her forehead against Luca’s, her hands on either side of Luca’s face. The girl was nearly the same height as her big sister now. “It’s okay, Luca. It’s okay. We have each other.”

  Donna took her sister’s hand and placed it on the back of her neck. Luca could feel her sister’s slender nape under her thick hair. She could imagine the now-dead Neo tattoo unde
r her fingers.

  “You saved me, big sis,” Donna said fiercely. “Hannah told me what happened. Without you … I don’t know where I’d be, but because you didn’t give up … we’re gonna be okay.”

  The three-tone chime sounded. “Countdown commencing in five minutes.”

  Luca splashed cold water on her face, then held the towel against her eyes for a few seconds. Her whole body shook as if she was coming down from an adrenaline rush. She did not resist as Donna guided her to her couch and strapped her in.

  Donna got into her own chair just as the countdown started.

  Ten … nine…

  Luca was still having trouble catching her breath. Donna reached over and laced her fingers with Luca’s.

  Five … four…

  Luca rested her head back into the cushion, exhausted. From somewhere far beneath her couch she felt a tremble, like a distant rumble of thunder. The sound grew closer and she felt it in her bones.

  “Let’s go home,” Donna said.

  • • •

  Remy Cade • Cassandra Station

  Brother Donald met Remy at the airlock. The monk’s thick face was bland, and he’d traded in his orange robes for a black uniform with the symbol of Cassandra embroidered over his heart.

  “You’re back,” was all he said.

  “I need to see Elise,” Remy said. “Right away.”

  The warrior-monk’s arm went up like a barrier. “She asked me to debrief you.”

  Remy didn’t try to hide his disappointment. In the trip back to the Temple station, he’d let his imagination run amok. Elise meeting him at the airlock, eyes full of love, throwing herself into his arms. More Harlequin romance than reality, he knew, but he had really expected her to at least meet him.

  Remy shook his head. “I speak to Elise only.”

  The monk’s face radiated calm, but his arm didn’t budge. “Follow me.” Donald turned and led the way.

  The thousands of refugees clustered around Haven 6 came to Remy’s mind as they walked. He saw the station with new eyes. He’d witnessed firsthand the havoc Cassandra had wrought planetside. Real people, real consequences. Before, at Elise’s side on the station, he’d been able to distance himself from the human costs, secure in her rock-solid belief that there was a higher purpose to what Elise was doing. He loved and trusted her and, by extension, what she was doing.