Battlecruiser Alamo: Cage of Gold

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Battlecruiser Alamo: Cage of Gold Page 8

by Richard Tongue


   “Leave things as they are for the moment. Jack, what are the prospects of us getting any of these communications problems fixed in the near future?”

   “You’ll have to ask whoever causing them.”

   Nodding, she said, “We can’t leave the Captain hanging on the surface. Have Sub-Lieutenant Bradley take Shuttle Three down, right away. Her orders are to brief the Captain. I want a full load of emergency supplies on board, anything that you can think of.”

   Glancing across at Orlova, Grant said, “What are you planning?”

   “I’m just playing the percentages right now. Jack, I want every system on the shuttle checked over before takeoff, with a large enough crew that nothing slips through the net. Grant, take charge of the security and loading.”

   “Aye, ma’am,” he replied.

   “I think that brings this to a close. Dismissed.”

   She rose from her chair, leading the officers out of the room, Nelyubov hurrying to walk by her side. Harper paused for a second, then followed the two of them to the elevator, only just jumping in before the doors closed.

   “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I don’t believe the saboteur theory. It doesn’t hold up.”

   “You seemed to agree with it in the meeting.”

   “Only because I don’t have an alternative to offer. And because there are things that I couldn’t tell the rest of you.” She glanced at Nelyubov, and added, “You, I trust.”

   “I’m honored,” he replied with a frown.

   “There have been no attempts to get into my concealed database.”

   With a shrug, Orlova said, “Good.”

   “No, no, you don’t understand. If you were infiltrating this ship, if your goal was to cause maximum havoc to the interests of the Confederation, what would you be looking for? The most sensitive, secret information on board.”

   “I’m surprised there is any way to access your black files,” Orlova said.

   “Black files?” Nelyubov looked at Harper, and asked, “Is there any way you can legally brief me in what is going on?”

   “Not with your current clearance,” the hacker replied. “And to answer your question, Maggie, there isn’t. Not the real database. I’ve got a fake one set up as a target, with some out-of-date information and fabricated stuff. A distraction, in case someone decides to hack into our system. My point is that no attempt has been made. Whether or not anyone would get in doesn’t really matter.”

   Nodding, Orlova said, “Which means that any foreign saboteur, someone sneaking on board at one of our recent stops, has overlooked the most likely avenue of attack. You’re right, that doesn’t seem likely.”

   “Could we be dealing with another Minerva?” Nelyubov asked. At the pair of blank faces, he added, “During the war, one of our scoutships, lost when the Systems Officer went quietly crazy. Rigged the guidance system of its missiles to blow the ship to bits. Most of the crew got out, but the ship was a write-off.”

   “Lieutenant, if someone wanted us dead, there are far more obvious and direct ways to do it. Introduce something nasty into the life-support system, for example.” Harper shook her head, then continued, “Yes, there are fail-safes, but I could say that about several of the problems we’ve had. Our computer network is under systematic attack, and there is only one explanation I can think of that makes any sense at all.”

   “And that is?”

   “Someone is trying to stop us conducting a proper examination of this planet.”

   Shaking his head, Nelyubov replied, “That just takes us back to the same two possibilities. Three if you count the Cabal.”

   “No. Look at the current situation. We’ve got troops in force down on the planet, and say we end up being forced to abandon ship. With our technological edge, we’d end up as the dominant power bloc by the default. The result is that Thule joins the Confederation, at least de facto.”

   “She has a point,” Orlova said, glancing at Nelyubov. “Where does that lead?”

   “Right down to the planet. I don’t think there’s a saboteur up here, I think someone has set up shop down there, one of the big power blocs, and I think that they’re doing everything they can to distract us.”

   “We could run a full sensor sweep. In fact, we did, when we arrived,” Nelyubov said, before adding, “No, I see what you are getting at. We can’t necessarily trust that all of our readings are accurate. Too much risk that someone could have hacked into the systems to conceal something, and unless we knew what we were looking for, we’d be out of luck. Tricky.”

   “I want to go down with Bradley,” Harper said. “If I’m right, then the answer to this puzzle isn’t up here. It’s down on the planet. Has to be, almost. I don’t think that I can do any good up here. Hooke’s competent enough in a dogmatic way to fix things if it does turn out to be a systems-based problem.”

   “I presume you realize the risk you are running. All of the Espatiers are off at one outpost or another, and there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to provide any support from Alamo.”

   She nodded, and said, “I’ve thought of all of that, and it still leads me to the conclusion that I can be a lot more useful down on the surface than I am up there. If someone is hacking us remotely, then I’m the best qualified to analyze and investigate.”

   Nodding, Orlova said, “Very well, permission granted. Grab your kit and head down to the hangar deck.”

   “Will do.”

   “Good luck.” The elevator doors stepped open, and Harper ran out, racing down the corridor to her quarters as they watched. As the doors slid shut again, the elevator resuming its course to the bridge, Nelyubov shook his head.

   “You’re beginning to sound just like the Captain,” he said.

   “Oh?”

   “Don’t get me wrong, it suits you.”

   “Right now I’d be a lot happier if I was down there and he was up here.”

   The door opened, and she stepped out onto the bridge, Kibaki rising from the command chair as she approached, moving forward to his station. Nelyubov moved over to the tactical console, looking over the readings.

   “Everything still seems to be working here. We’re still at stand-by alert.”

   Nodding, Kibaki said, “We had a minor malfunction in one of the refuse airlocks, nothing serious.” He glanced down at his console, and said, “Shuttle Three is requesting clearance to launch.”

    Tapping a control, Orlova said, “Alamo Actual to Shuttle Three. You are clear to depart. Good luck, and happy landings.”

   “Thanks, Maggie,” Harper said. “See you later.”

   Resting in the command chair, Orlova turned to Nelyubov and said, “I want them tracked all the way to the deck. The slightest variation is to be reported immediately.”

   “Ma’am?” Austin, the duty communications technician, said. “We’re not getting any telemetry from the shuttle. Someone’s just turned it off. No data transfer at all.”

   “That was me,” Harper’s voice said, echoing over the ceiling speaker. “I’m isolating us from anything that might be affecting the ship. We’re just about to drop out from the elevator airlock, and I’m guessing we’ll lose communications as soon as that happens, so…” As she predicted, she was cut off.

   “Well, that’s that,” Nelyubov said. “There’s nothing we can do now but watch the show.” He glanced across at his console, and said, “No sign of anything else in the sky, and their course track takes them well clear of the not-man ship. Course computed to bring them down right in the heart of New Jamestown.”

   “Some night watchman at Fort Medaris is going to get a big surprise in a few minutes.” Orlova replied with a smile. “At least they’ve got plenty of room to work with.”

   “Course error,” the sensor technician, Fox, said. She looked across at her readings, and said, “They’re coming in too shallow. Unless they correct, they�
�ll skip off the atmosphere.”

   “Damn,” Nelyubov said. “Start plotting an intercept course, in case we have to pick them up. Sub-Lieutenant, warm up the main engines.”

   “Come on, Barbara,” Orlova said, leaning forward, looking at the viewscreen. “Work the damn problem, get that lady down onto the deck.”

   The shuttle continued along its track, ranging out wide, high over the planet, until abruptly the engine cut. After a second that seemed like a year, the shuttle pivoted on its thrusters, the engine firing again in brief bursts, the trajectory slowly curving back down.

   “What the hell?” Kibaki said.

   “They’re managed to get the manual controls working, but not perfectly. They can’t do continuous burns.”

   Frowning, Nelyubov said, “That doesn’t suggest a happy ending.”

   “If they can get their track down into the crater, the emergency chutes will bring them down, though it’s going to be a one-way trip,” Kibaki said.

   “That’s a small bulls’-eye on a large planet,” Orlova said, her gaze locked onto the trajectory track as it jerked back to the correct position, the projected landing site slowly moving to their original goal. “Coming into re-entry attitude. They can do that on thrusters.”

   “Entering the plasma sheath,” Fox said. “Attitude looks good. Landing site now within the crater, with a two-hundred mile margin of error.”

   “Enough to leave them well outside. There’s no way they can land with an intermittently functioning engine,” Kibaki said.

   Even if the communicators had been working, there was nothing that Orlova could do for the crew of the shuttle now. They were locked on a spiral down to the surface of the planet, with their skill weighed against whatever problems the systems were throwing at them. She ran through everything in her mind, working out what she would do if she was at the controls, almost able to picture herself in the cockpit with flames lapping around the windows, preparing for the run in.

   “They’re through. Coming in fast, looks like they are trying to conserve velocity.”

   “Bradley’s hoping to glide in,” Orlova said.

   “Maybe. Cresting over the first crater wall now, over the plateau. Landing point long, right by the far wall of the lowest crater.”

   “Anywhere down there will do,” Kibaki said. All eyes were focused on the shuttle’s final descent track, the ship left to take care of itself for a moment. “Look, thrusters firing. They’ve given up on the main engines altogether.”

   “I can’t blame them for that.”

   “Chute deployed,” Fox said. “Still a little high for it to be much use. They are slowing, drifting down to the south. I think they’re going to overshoot.”

   Bradley had come to the same conclusion, and the shuttle’s thrusters fired for one last time, one final burn to try and make the crash survivable. The parachute was at last beginning to open, spreading out in the thin atmosphere, but with one last, desperate pulse of thrust, the shuttle crashed down to the surface, dangerously close to the cliff.

   “Well?”

   “Touch and go. Impact velocity was a little on the high side, but I think they managed a survivable landing. That’s the good news,” Nelyubov said.

   “The bad news being that they just touched down in the middle of hostile territory, and that we have no way of telling anyone on the surface where they are,” Orlova said, frowning. “And there’s nothing we can do to help them.”

  Chapter 10

   Marshall was awakened by the sound of broken glass and the crack of a bullet flying over his head. On instinct, he rolled out of bed onto the floor, reaching for this pistol in his holster, keeping low and out of sight. There was a chance that the would-be assassin might think that he had found his target.

   He’d accepted the Governor’s offer of accommodation for the night, staying in the nearest thing New Jamestown had to a hotel, a decision he was now regretting. He reached for his communicator, and cursed as his hand brought down a ruined scrap of metal. At least he knew where the bullet had gone.

   Cautiously, he inched up to the window, then heard an earth-shattering crack from above, a sonic boom, a shuttle coming into land. He caught a glimpse of it as it raced overhead, a parachute dangling from its tail, engines faltering, the pilot desperately trying to avoid a crash. Most of the town had been woken by the noise, lights in all the windows coming on, people pouring onto the street. Any hope of catching his attacker was gone.

   “Captain, are you alright?” Sergeant Gurung yelled.

   “I’m fine. Get Caine, then go out and see if you can find anything. I don’t think you’ll have any luck, but you might as well make the attempt. I can look after myself. And call Alamo, let them know what happened. That bastard shot my communicator.”

   “Mine isn’t working, sir. Signal error.”

   “Nor mine,” Caine said, walking into his room, still wearing her nightgown. “I can’t get through to anyone, either on ship or surface. Maybe that shuttle was coming down to warn us that something was wrong.”

   “It certainly managed that,” he replied. “They came down somewhere at the far side of the plateau, miles from here.” He looked at the growing chaos outside, then said, “We’d better get to the Fort and rustle up a search party.”

   “Do my orders stand, sir?”

   Glancing out of the window again, he shook his head, and said, “No, damn it. It’ll have to wait until morning. Our people might not. Get your kit together.”

   “Danny,” Caine said, “A jeep’s just pulled up outside. Territorial Guard on board, along with your favorite local politician.”

   “I can guess what they want.”

   “I’m not so sure,” Gurung said. “Not after an attempted assassination. You aren’t meeting him without an armed escort present, Captain, and that is not an order I am going to permit you to countermand.”

   “He’s got you there, Danny,” Caine added. “I agree with him. He looks to me like the type that might do something stupid, and with the ship out of reach, there isn’t much we could do about it.”

   “I might be able to give him a few arguments he’d struggle to counter,” Gurung said, patting his rifle. Turning to the corridor, he yelled, “Tactical deployment, right now, you apes! Let’s move!”

   “No chance that anyone in this hotel is going to get any rest tonight,” Caine said, shaking her head. She looked at the mark on the shelf where the bullet had passed, and added, “That was a close one. A few inches to the left and they’d have hit you.”

   Loud footsteps marched up the stairs, Sergeant Gurung positioning his men in the room, one on each side of the door while he stood behind Marshall, his hand ready on the butt of his gun.

   The door burst open, and Mason stepped in, saying, “Captain, you’re coming with me.”

   “My Sergeant and I think otherwise,” Marshall replied. “Are you aware that someone tried to kill me five minutes ago? Then you and your merry men come marching in here. Interesting coincidence.”

   “I hold you directly responsible for the actions undertaken by Ensign Cooper. I am convinced that he was operating under your orders.”

   Raising a hand, Marshall asked, “Kindly could you tell me what the hell you are talking about? And get your men out of the room.”

   “Not while yours remain.”

   With shrug, he replied, “Very well, then we’ll stay crowded. You don’t seem at all interested that there was an assassination attempt on a visiting foreign dignitary, just a few moments ago.”

   “I will see that a full investigation is undertaken first thing in the morning. No doubt one of the radicals decided that you were insufficiently revolutionary, or some nonsense like that, and attempted to kill you.”

   “Don’t you ever worry about small things like the collection of evidence?” Caine asked. “Any sort of due process?”

   “I
know these people, and I know the sort of people they associate themselves with. Which reminds me, Captain. I have another complaint about your Sub-Lieutenant Salazar. I have been informed that he was out after curfew, and refused to comply with the orders of one of my people. I expect him to be disciplined appropriately.”

   “We were never informed of any curfew.”

   “Ignorance is no defense under the law, Captain. I demand…”

   “You are in no position to demand anything,” Marshall said. “What has Ensign Cooper done to upset you?”

   Gurung glared at Mason, as he answered, “After concluding the attack upon the savages that were planning to attack our outpost, he refused to allow the Territorial Guard to take them into custody for re-education. Now he sits on top of the plateau, waiting to treat with our enemies, and has forced some of our soldiers to remain with him.” Pointing up at the sky, he said, “And now we see that you have called for reinforcements. Are you planning to conquer our planet?”

   “Mister Secretary, I have made no secret that we are hoping for a diplomatic solution to the conflict on this planet. Let me make one thing perfectly clear. The Triplanetary Confederation will not support any government that conducts itself in the manner yours does. We have no such thing as second-class citizens.”

   “But…”

   “You are getting assistance from us now for the simple reason that without protection, I was convinced that hundreds, maybe thousands of your people would have been killed. Do not fall under the delusion for a single moment that I am on your side, or that my government will impose an agreement that benefits one faction over the other. I think that any further discussion should take place directly with the Governor.”

   With a look to his left, the Guard raised their weapons, rifles covering the room. The Espatiers matched the move, their weapons humming as the power built up, ready to fire.

   “You will come with me for questioning,” Mason said. “I will give you one opportunity to come with me peacefully, before I am forced to give an order that we will both regret.”

 

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