Fulcrums of the Universe: A TESS NOVEL #2

by Randy Moffat

  A ragged cheer from the bridge crew covered the sound of my sigh of relief and what was probably the audible creak of my sphincter and anus relaxing.

  TESS Space station L5 fell out of the Petrovski effect three kilometers in front of the first two missiles. It destroyed a television and telephone satellite when it did so, but no one noticed immediately.

  Captain Johnson stood in the tactical operations center in the approximate center of the rock. One of her radar techs shouted “Missiles!” just as two radar blips crossed the tiny distance between their current location and the asteroid’s surface. At the last moment they lost their lock on their target, the SS Gaia and veered slightly, but far too late to change direction significantly at their high velocity.

  Both 50 Kilogram missile warheads exploded close to the Rock’s surface using proximity fuses designed to maximize destruction of fragile thin skinned aircraft by flinging splinters and rods compressed on the leading edge of a shockwave to rip through composites and aircraft metal surfaces. It would have been an effective weapon against a submarine skin as well. The oddity in this new equation was that unlike most airplanes and spaceships the asteroid wasn’t particularly fragile nor thin skinned. The shockwave pulverized perhaps 18 inches of surface material which ballooned out a surprisingly unimpressive debris cloud; the entire attack creating a small crater indistinguishable from several hundred others scattered like acne across her face.

  In fact, the result was so unremarkable to the Rock that if Captain Johnson had not been watching the strike on one of her surface monitors she would have been unaware that anything had happened at all.

  “Four more missiles inbound at high speed.” Her radar operator said loudly to cut through the babble of voices. These birds were trying to maneuver; but appeared to have lost radar lock on the Gaia as well and their limited AI were looking for targets roughly on the same line as they had been flying. That line was full of asteroid and nothing else. The TESS flag ship was now masked entirely by the bulk of L5.

  The asteroid was already rotating slowly to bring her guns to bear.

  “How soon ‘til the gun clears out horizon.” Seeing far ahead into the hazy sky of distrust for TESS’ enemies, Johnson and Bear had ordained that L5, like other TESS ships would be protected by six rotary cannon of her own. The plan called for four mounted around her middle and another on each end. Only two were currently in place and operational. As usual everything about TESS was a compromise between expediency, necessity and incomplete but intelligent plans. The guns had not been deemed a construction priority in the remote regions L5 was supposed to be dwelling in. Other tasks took precedence. Ironically two of her ordered guns had been rerouted to the decks of the SS Tellus during her construction. Ultimately though the number of fangs is not important. Outcome depends more on how you use the teeth you have.

  “#3 gun will have a solution to fire in three seconds… two… one… !” Her gunnery station called his finger poised over the fire button waiting for her word.

  “Set the gun’s software in autolock!” Johnson commanded.

  The gunnery crewman stopped short of saying ‘Awwwww!’ in annoyance and complied instantly with his lips pursed in annoyance instead—his trigger finger still itching.

  The whole bridge watched as the gun’s camera slewed left and down instantly and then the computer burped out short bursts of rounds that created a cloud with a machine’s precision in front of the next two missiles. It sprayed more bullets in a cross pattern in case either of the missiles jinked off their current course line in mid-flight. Then unbidden the gun shifted left and fired twice more and fell silent. The radar showed a hazy cloud of bullets approaching both pairs of missiles. Suddenly the lead pair were tumbling wildly and breaking apart on screen. The second pair followed suit a minute later with one of them igniting its fuel in a satisfying fireball.

  “They may have more missiles. We must protect the Gaia. Take manual control of your gun…” She commanded coldly trying hard not to envision the erection she assumed her gunnery officer was now wearing. “Engage that space station!”

  Her crewman flipped a switch. His station had a joystick and he used it to focus a crosshair on the image of the Chinese space station and then caressed a trigger—once, twice and then a third time in sweeping motions. It was an odd kind of warfare. The rounds were released and they could see the clusters of bullets as distorted returns on their radar as they crept across the distance to the space station; but it had a dreamlike quality since it took some time for them to travel and impact. When they finally struck, nothing obviously dramatic happened that could be seen from L5. It did not have to be showy. Everyone’s imagination was up to the task of imagining hundreds of heavy bullets passing through the space station’s thin metal and Kevlar fabric walls within seconds of each other. If whoever fired the missiles at the Gaia was still alive it would be an accident of cosmic proportions.

  “Captain Johnson… ?” The voice of Bear MacMoran came through the speakers using standard radio… now adequate for close communications.

  She keyed a pin mike.

  “Admiral?”

  “You took your time.” The Admiral said with annoying casualness. “How I am ever going to explain to the nations of Earth you crushing not one, but two satellites by bringing that artificial moon over here and parallel parking it I do not know.”

  “Yes, Admiral. I feel the full measure of contrition.” She replied looking around at her grinning mates.

  “Still… . thank you for saving our asses.” The Admiral said quietly. “We can still use your help though.”

  The battle of station L5 was over. The battle for TESS’ right to exist went on.

  CHAPTER 11

  What do you do when you lean down on a lever and the weight at the other end leans back?

  Succor came as quickly as it could from L5. It took almost an hour of delicate blasts to stabilize the poor, mangled Gaia, attach a line and winch her in to dock alongside. Umbilical hoses were attached to the station swiftly and most of her personnel unless specifically prohibited by Captain Johnson as being essential for duty raced down to the station airlocks to pre-breath oxygen in too rapid pants, suit up, float across and help carry the wounded into the station and down to its tiny infirmary for treatment. They also carried the dead silently and reverently to an unused chamber near the airlock that would henceforth bear the name ‘morgue.’

  My flagship was a wreck but I hardly noticed. Inside I was, of course, a much worse wreck. I was barely holding myself together as Maureen was evacuated—getting in the way in a pitiful display of distraction by trying to stay by her side. Touch her hand. Be of support. She looked so very small inside her suit. Poor Maureen did not move the whole time, even when they cut away her suit in the L5 dispensary closet. She was in bad shape from blood loss and transfusion needles were jammed into her smartly. I winced as each one went home.

  Dana Johnson and Tia Woo had to physically drag me clear from blocking the medicos and for the life of me I don’t know how I ever left her or got to a conference chamber abaft the command station where Woo had to physically cut me out of my own temporary space suit. I noticed absently that the suit’s meter showed it had six minutes of oxygen left in it as Woo flung it aside. It had served me pretty well except that the heating had been barely adequate and I could no longer feel my buttocks from the near frostbite on my rear cheeks. I found myself holding them and rubbing them absently.

  Despite a cold bottom, there was plenty of fire in my mind and heart. A fire of rage that grew and grew the more I tried to sit still. I was a muddied mass inside, trying not to let my neo-cortex shutdown completely and allow my mind to downshift to my limbic system to indulge in pure emotion. Allow my rational mid to surrender to pure hate. My emotions were utterly human, but Dana did me a great service. She slapped me hard across the face. At the pain I spun on her ready to snap her neck, but she
brought me up short verbally. Woo was standing behind her looking frightened but ready to lend her assistance.

  “Admiral!” Dana snapped sharply. “Admiral!”

  I jerked to a stop. I stared at her trying to focus. I shook my head several times.

  “Admiral.” She said implacably. “TESS has been attacked. You need to take action. You are useless like this. Snap out of it!”

  I shook my head some more. Then shook it again a last time.

  “Hit me again!” I demanded.

  A lesser woman would have argued. Captain Johnson was not ordinary. She cocked back her palm and slapped me hard across the cheek.

  I put my hand up to that sting and used to marshal my intellect.

  She was right. I had to keep my cool… at least superficially. Leaders do not get to lose it when they feel like it. I had a job to do. I intended to strike back. To attack. I am an old soldier. The only good defense is a good offence. Maureen went back into the special place in my heart where she lived. I put her carefully there. I could worry about her in her time. Grieve for her pain. I could not contemplate her death.

  I nodded at Captain Johnson… my eyes as dead as any road kill—a mirror of my feelings at the moment, but my concentration was back and she could see it. Tia’s eyes over Johnson’s shoulder were wide. This as a Bear MacMoran she had never encountered.

  “Ouch.” I said quietly.

  Johnson cocked her head at me—her eyes appraising to see if my nod was fully true this time. The dry ‘Ouch’ convinced her though.

  I reached over and gently patted her shoulder, pulled her in, hugged her frantically and then stepping back I caressed her cheek.

  “Thanks, Dana. I’m here now. I owe you. Put someone on the sickbay. I want to know the minute there is any change in Maureen. The nanosecond! Will you do that for me?”

  She looked relieved and nodded her head—the sorrow in her eyes as much for me as Maureen. She had never looked so old.

  I turned to Tia Woo. She looked concerned but very alert.

  “Lieutenant. We are going to try and execute communications plan Tango.”

  Woo opened her mouth.

  “But, Admiral. We haven’t even…”

  I held up my palm towards her. I knew when to give orders. That time had come.

  “Make it happen Lieutenant. We will execute in one point five hours. I cannot give you more time. In the mean time patch me through to the S5 and Information officer down on earth-side and send me your two best video assistants who are on this station. We have an announcement to make and I want to hurry. Also send me my own Midshipman Smith and… and…” This to Captain Johnson. “. . . your own weapons officers.”

  At the end of that hour and half we had a product. It was a bit rough, but it was a recognizably edited video that was centered on me. I had donned a poorly fitting TESS tunic that belonged to the nearest midshipman to my size on the station and we’d removed his rank. Uniform was standard practice when addressing the public and I wanted our audience to see it on me as I spoke. They shot me only from the waist up. No one would see all I had on was my dirty underpants below camera angle. TESS’ public affairs officer tried to argue with me a bit about what I meant to say, but after I almost snapped her head off she positively came around and gave useful input on elements of persuasion for various target listeners. I was targeting a wide audience. The entire planet Earth. Based on her advice during my five minute rehearsal I changed two hand gestures. One that might offend the Malays and another that might offend a subset of Muslims. She also coached me to shift body position to engage the Hindu’s and Buddhists in the audience more widely. She knew stuff. Turned out that one of the academy kids up here on the station was a sensei with video software too. I had three minutes to review our editing and blocking before transmission time. I caught a glimpse of myself in a small mirror anchored to a wall. I looked like hell, there was dried blood on the side of my face from a cut on my forehead, bruises from at least three face saves into walls I had taken and I just couldn’t do a thing with my hair. With the borrowed tunic half open I certainly looked like I had just come through a battle. Appropriate. I also looked just this side of insane. All to the good. There is nothing like a wacko to raise the hackles on the necks of the listeners. Hackles up was my objective. That and I rolled in just enough of my being really pissed off that I figured my face would work in our favor—add veracity and artistic verisimilitude. I left my face alone. Stray thoughts of Craig, Van Zeegler, and now Maureen kept my frown lines damn fresh when I stepped in front of the live feed.

  I had ensured the two weapons officers had received their four key coordinates on earth’s surface before I began anything else. I had them read them back to me to make sure they were spot on. I could tell Smith and especially the L5 weapons guy were in ecstasy. It might be a once in a lifetime chance to shoot at targets in quite this way. It would be only our second test of this particular weapon type too. Big freaking Rocks.

  Then Woo and Rivera worked their magic. Communications plan Tango had been a think fest that Wong and I had batted around with her some months ago. Woo had seemed quite certain she could do it sitting at her leisure around a conference table. She had exuded confidence in her ability to work out how to execute it at the time. Like so many TESS plans though it had taken a distant back seat to executing current missions and had largely been forgotten. I think she figured at the time that she and Rivera would have more than an hour and half to figure out how to make it all work. Welcome to reality. TESS’ reality. Still, she made me proud… again.

  Tango was simple enough in concept. We used our proximity to a whole host of communications satellites in Earth orbit to hijack their signals. It was easy as long as you had the codes and plenty of power. As it happened TESS had those codes and the power plant to back them. Woo had worked at Sugar Grove Naval Communications Center before I had head hunted her years back and several code books has somehow stuck to her fingers when she transitioned over into TESS. TESS, like Dr. Evil suddenly pushed a powerful transmission out to most of the planet—overriding programming signals and putting my mussed up puss in front of a whole lot of people all at the same time. Certainly the majority of the people watching TV at the moment we activated it and ton of cell phones, tablets and computers. One minute they were watching a soap, sitcom or porn and then suddenly they saw me.

  “People of earth…” I began looking directly into the camera like it was my mother’s eyes. “At 1542 hours Greenwich Mean Time today the SS Gaia . . . The flagship of the Terran Exploratory Space Service came under heavy attack while executing a peaceful mission in near earth orbit in support of the Nation of South Africa and her neighboring country of Zambia. During this undeclared and extremely hostile surprise action a number of TESS personnel were killed and others, including Rear Admiral Maureen O’Hara, Chief of Logistics were seriously wounded and might…” I had not been able to quell the hitch in my voice there, but seeing my subsequent death face on screen later I realized it would have had the Grim Reaper peeing his pants in fear at that point. “. . . Might still become casualties if they are unable to recover from wounds received while valiantly defending the fleet from… this blatant act of treachery. In addition to TESS personnel I need also point out that three members of the South African scientific observer team aboard our ship were also killed without warning.”

  I wanted to say ‘without warning’ as often as possible to remind the world that these were true bastards we were dealing with. Lurkers in alleys. Brigands. Real assholes.

  “This attack shall be recorded in the annals of ignominy and is a stain on the history of the entire planet. Make no mistake… . pure evil had been done here today. This dishonorable attack was made by the Nation State of Mainland China…” I glared at the camera now as if staring at a particularly repulsive camel spider. “. . . I will now provide proof of why TESS feels free to accuse China of
their perfidy by demonstrating the evidence of their culpability.” I did that. We recorded a lot of bridge activity routinely. The recordings of radar images began showing who shot who first. The battle unfolded then. Radio transmissions from both sides overlay cuts of digital video and still images pieced together to the tell the entire sordid story. Audio clips were framed close-ups of one of the hastily recovered Chinese capsules, the bodies of several of the dead Chinese marines both in space suits and out of them—still wearing their plainly marked uniforms. We also included our one live prisoner being interrogated and pretty much confessing all. We ended with pictures and close-ups of the clear blast marks and damage to the Gaia and the grisly sight of my people floating dead in midair under low weight. I was left with no doubt that the case had been clearly made and that China was demonstrated to be guilty as hell.

  I am a realist though. Without a doubt their propaganda machines would be cranking out a denial within a few hours, but I had struck first and the pictures were clear and disturbing. Most of the world had seen our version first and most of the world would be on our side by the time China’s apologists pulled up their pants. Then I got to the dramatic ending and considered carefully the ramifications of this accusation though I could not hate myself for making it. I gave them my big finish.

  “Because of the dishonorable nature of this sudden sneak attack made against us without warning, a brutal act of war when we are at peace, without any clear reason and without any provocation. Because of the open murder of our personnel. Because of the often serious injuries and wounds received by our people. Because of the damage to our ships. Because of all these things the Terran Exploratory Space Service therefore believes that an undeclared state of war now exists between TESS and the People’s Republic of China. It is a war we did not seek out. It is a war we did not want. But it is war never the less. Since TESS is already at war it is with a heavy heart I tell the world that TESS intends to defend itself. Lacking the cupidity of our enemies, who attack in darkness without warning like all those who skulk about in the night; we give China fair and open warning that TESS has at this time fired four weapons at them in retaliation. They are non-nuclear… say again… these are weapons that are not . . . say yet again not nuclear. These weapons are targeted at China proper. Those conventional weapons will strike the following locations…” I had glanced at a list though I knew the names by heart. “The space operations centers at Wenchang, Jiuwuan, Xichang and Taiyuan. We urge all Chinese personnel at those locations to remove themselves to a distance of 15 to 25 kilometers immediately to ensure their own safety. TESS’ primary objective for reluctantly taking this extreme action is to remove the possibility of China launching any further sneak attacks into space from these locales. They are the locations where their assassins were originally brought up into Earth orbit and they must be neutralized to protect ourselves. China will be given no further opportunities to butcher TESS personnel without warning from these locales. TESS will refrain from any further attacks for twenty four hours after this strike and await China’s immediate surrender, reparations and solid assurances of future peaceful intentions by China.”