“May I ask what you think is the appropriate response, Chris?”
“I haven’t made up my mind. In terms that America will understand, any one of our lives are priceless will be my message. That is what I want to convey to those people down there. And that to attack us is to invite such a disproportionate response that they decide right off the bat that whatever they do, it won’t be worth it to them,” said Christopher in that same quiet voice.
“Margaret, what’s the council’s position?” Angela asked.
“We all agree that any loss of life is to be avoided. But Christopher is right: this time it must be such a statement that they will seriously reconsider messing with us ever again,” Margaret reiterated.
Angela was silent. “Pat, are you okay with whatever Chris decides?”
“This time I am. This has to stop, they killed Zelda and Clarice and they must be punished. Whatever Chris decides, I am one hundred percent behind him, even if you do end up taking lives.”
The room was silent, with Patricia’s defiant answer.
“Okay, time’s a wasting, Chris. I had your spacesuit brought to our jumper, would you swing by your quarters and get your personal items? By the way, our squadron is up to nine ships now, eight jumpers and the heavy whale. Peanut is putting together a repair crew and we’re bringing a freezer to return Zelda and Clarice’s remains home,” she said somberly.
Christopher and Patricia left.
Angela asked, “Is there anything else I can answer, or more importantly do you have any special instructions for me?”
Margaret nodded toward Lucius, who simply said, “Bring all our people home. Safe travels, dear.”
Angela bowed and left.
When Angela arrived in the hanger, the food stores were being loaded into all the ships. One of Peanut’s team arrived pushing a floater piled high with the new shield emitters for the space station over to the whale. The deck crew immediately started loading the emitters into the vast hold. Then the hanger grew silent. Angela looked around, then saw two crew members were pushing an empty freezer unit into the hanger, also to be loaded into the whale.
A few minutes later Christopher, Patricia, Peanut and Bernice arrived. She walked across the hanger and took Christopher’s bag from him and handed it to one of the deck crew, pointing toward their jumper.
“I’ll take good care of him, Pat,” Angela assured her.
“You do that. But you make them pay for killing our people,” Patricia reiterated.
“But please be careful,” Peanut said, bumping fists with Christopher. “Where’s Chuck?”
“I told him he had to stay behind,” Christopher said.
“Why?” Patricia asked.
“Because if something does happen to me, he has to carry on here, and he’s the most likely person who will avenge my death and get everyone back home safely,” explained Christopher. “Besides, I want you and Chuck to armor up and arm up these big ass targets we live in.”
Christopher gave Patricia a hug just as Benjamin hurried into the hanger carrying a bag and his space suit. It took but a moment for him to spot them and make his way over to them. When he was close enough, he dropped everything to the deck and Christopher hugged him tight, saying, “You take care of your mother while I’m gone.”
“But I wanted to come along. Angela says I’m one of the best pilots here,” he complained.
“I know, but you can’t come on this mission. We need backup here just in case.”
Benjamin pulled away, nodding. “I understand. You all be careful,” he said, hugging Angela, too.
Angela led Christopher to their jumper and they climbed aboard. They began stowing the supplies and extra equipment, securing everything in case of artificial gravity failure or collision.
“You know I told Ops you’re the mission commander,” Christopher said as he stowed their spacesuits in the lockers.
“I know, Ops told me. But if you come up with that perfect response, I’m behind you one hundred percent. Hang on a sec,” she said.
Going to the console, Angela triggered the radio, “All call, please, Ops.”
“Go ahead, Commander,” came the reply.
“Everyone listen up. Is there anyone who cannot depart in ten minutes?” she asked.
“This is Sondra in the whale, that might be cutting it pretty close. We’re still loading Peanut’s equipment.”
“Okay, everybody. When Sondra’s buttoned up, we’re going to depart. You get that Ops?”
“Roger that. Waiting on the whale to load, Commander. Standing by,” Ops replied.
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
“Madam President, Shelter 14 reports that a formation of ships has left the colony, inbound at a hell of a clip,” Agent Miller informed her.
“What’s their ETA?”
“Two days.”
“How many ships?”
“Nine,” Agent Miller replied.
“Thank you, Tanya.”
When Agent Miller left the room, Wilcox pressed the intercom, “Give me General Boise.”
Moments later, General Archer’s replacement was on the line. “What’s your threat assessment of the inbounds, General?”
“We’re not optimistic, Madam President. With nine ships on their way I think it would only be provocative to put up a defense upon their arrival. On the other hand, we don’t want to be completely unprepared,” he replied.
“Prepared for what?”
“That is the question. May I ask you a question, Madam President?”
“What’s on your mind, General?”
“Are you planning to turn General Archer over to them if they demand it?”
“Unknown, General. Would we do so if the General had committed a crime against the citizens of another country?”
“If they requested extradition, I suppose,” he replied.
“Is this any different?”
“Only if we consider them a sovereign nation. But we have no treaty with them,” he said.
“I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens, but I’m not optimistic either. Stay vigilant, General.”
“Roger, that, Madam President,” he said as she hung up.
Leaks to the media from Pentagon staff alerted the public to the fact that not only did the satellite fail to get into orbit, but that one of the colonist’s spaceships had been damaged in the process of intercepting the weather satellite. And though the administration’s hard line of “no comment” only added to the speculation about what was to come, there was nothing concrete for the media to disclose.
* * *
Aidan was on the phone with Valerie discussing what little they knew of the satellite launch. He called to see what she thought about the timing of his trying to contact the colonists.
“Let’s say that the rumors are true and that the military damaged one of their ships, I can’t see how they would be disposed to respond,” said Aidan.
“Is there any downside to waiting? I can’t really see one, do you?”
“No, other than my own impatience,” he replied morosely.
Valerie laughed. “You sound like a boy who had his favorite puppy taken away.”
Aidan chuckled. “Do I really sound that bad?”
“Yes. But I do understand. It’s a worthy project, and if you can get them to respond it will be the first contact anyone has with them, at least that we know about.”
“Last night, I focused the telescope on their space station to try to see any activity, but there were no details. If something did go wrong with the launch, I don’t want to do anything that messes up the one possible chance I might have to open a dialogue with them,” he said.
“Have you discussed this with Constance or Silas, yet?”
“Not yet.”
“See what they have to say. I do have a suggestion though.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
&n
bsp; “I would leave the telescope focused on the colonial space station at night and record everything that goes on around it. You never know, you may get a clue to what’s going on,” suggested Valerie.
“Not a bad idea. As a matter of fact, that’s a great idea!” said Aidan, cheering up.
“There may even be a way to monetizing the video feed.”
“As long as I can conceal the fact that it’s me doing it. I’m not sure the government would be too happy seeing that on the net,” Aidan said.
“I’m sure they have all manner of telescopes and electromagnetic sensors pointed in that direction. But with the resolving power of that special mirror, the image should be great.”
“I’ll give it some thought. How did the presentation go with the Navy?”
Valerie laughed. “As soon as they found out that the Air Force was interested in the technology, they decided then and there they wanted in.”
“I think you’re the first multimillionaire I’ve ever known!” Aidan exclaimed.
“Whoa there, Sparky! There’s been no formal contract, no money has changed hands,” she cautioned.
“In any case, it’s your due. Congratulations. When are you embarking on your world tour?” he asked.
“Oh you! I still have a bunch of work to do, and if the military wants a few display units, we have to go through the RFP process first, refine the product to MILSPEC, then refine the figures for the RFQ, and then, wait anywhere from six months to over a year for the actual order to be placed. In the meantime, I have to find someone who can fabricate the units, or several manufacturers so no one has the entire design. Conservatively, I have a couple of years work ahead of me. I could use someone to help me. You have any interest in the position? I mean after you try to contact the colony.”
“That’s a pretty good offer. Would I still have the same fringe benefit package?” he asked with a chuckle.
Valerie gave out an almost musical laugh. “I’ve never thought of being lovers as a benefits package before. I’ll check with Human Resources and see what the corporate policy is. But we’re talking a few months out, so I can’t give you a hard timeline. Give it some thought, though. I can’t think of anyone better who I trust, and I know will do superlative work. Just think about it. Keep me posted on whether or not you’re going to monitor the space station.”
“I will. Catch you later.”
“Be safe. Love you. . .”
* * *
“Okay everyone. Let’s park nose to Earth half a click from the station. Sondra, take the whale in and unload everything. Have the engineers see if they can load the dead jumper into the whale’s hold so we can rotate these other ships inside to unload any equipment or supplies you brought. I want the two doctors to check over the crew and the relief crew to log in and take over the station. Chris and I will hold here until everyone unloads,” Angela radioed, then switched channels. “Dorothy, Alice? Do you read me, this is Angela.”
“Hey, Angela. Dorothy here, Alice is off, probably sleeping. Thanks for getting here so soon.”
“Don’t mention it. Would you pump out the atmosphere and open the hanger door all the way? We have a whale with equipment and personnel for the station to unload,” Angela requested.
“Cycling now. Six minutes,” Dorothy announced.
“Sondra, take it from here.”
Angela left the channel open to monitor the whale’s docking inside, and heard a muffled, “Holy shit!”
Angela flipped open the comm circuit, “What? What the hell just happened?”
“Sorry, my bad. I just got a look at the damaged jumper,” Sondra replied sheepishly.
“Bad?” asked Angela.
“Yes. Here, sending an image,” Sondra said.
Angela and Christopher waited a few seconds for the high-resolution image to scroll down on the screen. The damage was clearly evident, with several of the projectiles still sticking from the wreckage.
“Jesus,” Angela said quietly, as she looked at Christopher’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. He said nothing, but the skin around his eyes and lips tightened, then he sat back in his chair. Angela feared for those on Earth who killed their people.
“Get Doctors Long and Abbott inside ASAP! And have the engineers clean up that jumper and get it stowed inside the whale. Also do an analysis of those rods and get the data back to Peanut’s team. I want to ensure our shields won’t fail under assault by those damn things, again,” Angela ordered. “You have anything to add?” she asked Christopher.
“No. You covered everything—for now.”
* * *
President Wilcox was fuming, confined to the White House bunker while the squadron of colonial ships remained parked in orbit with their space station. She couldn’t really argue with the logic, the bunker was really no protection from the weaponry the colonists had already demonstrated. General Boise raised the defense condition no higher than four; she didn’t want an overly aggressive response to be triggered by some overly enthusiastic grunt. She had also ordered GST to undo the modification that allowed all the DS500s to engage a single target. She was also gratified that very little of the day’s news was centered on speculation about why General Archer was forced to do the perp walk out of the Pentagon the day before. No one in the military wanted to be associated with whatever his actual crime had been. Slade was working with Cooper to uncover any additional plans Archer had put in play, even sabotage that might be left behind as a failsafe just in case Archer was incapacitated. So far nothing was found. All President Wilcox could do was wait to see what the consequences of Archer’s reckless act would be. She recalled General Kaminski’s deployment of SEALs to the lunar surface, Colonal Levkov’s firing rockets at the colony itself, Air Marshal Vasiliev and General Rowan firing illegal, nuclear rockets at the ships that had rescued the colonists being held by the FBI in Chicago. It was always the military that got Earth in trouble dealing with the blacks in space. Faced with the fact that their accomplishments spoke for themselves, much of the rest of the world’s ambivalence had its roots in pervasive racism.
President Wilcox was weary of having to litigate prejudicial attitudes and beliefs throughout her career, but especially so during her term in the White House. This time she was afraid that the country’s four-hundred-year history of slights, insults, injuries and murders were coming home to roost. She prayed that whatever was ahead, the country could not only survive it, but would finally take it as a teachable moment. With Slade working the phones, to ensure there would be no more sabotage originating with the military, President Wilcox was realizing that there was no predicting what was to come next.
* * *
“G2?”
“Yes, Christopher. How may I be of assistance?”
“Please locate every single one of those railguns and plot them on the mission map.”
“Done, Christopher. Will there be anything else?”
“Given the capabilities of our newly installed matter disrupting emitters, are there any of those weapons that cannot be reached by an airborne jumper?”
“Negative.”
“Can you locate the factories where those weapons were assembled?
“Working—The GST Model DS500 components are assembled in nine different plants located across the continental United States. I have also added their locations to the map,” the AI replied.
“And do you have access to the Pentagon’s telephone system?” he asked.
“For what purpose? I can disrupt the system so that no calls can be received or made easily.”
“Can you ring every phone in the building and play a recorded message through each handset?” asked Christopher.
“One moment, please—checking. Yes, it can be done, Christopher.”
“Thank you, G2. That will be all.”
“Do you want me to put together an op plan?” Angela inquired.
“Yes. The guns first, the factories second, then I
want everyone to rally over the Pentagon. The whale stays behind, and no one takes any chances. If a target is too tough for one jumper, then they should call for help, but I want every single railgun destroyed. Then we go after GST, and I haven’t made up my mind about the Pentagon,” he said.
“It looks like we have a couple of hours until everyone has docked and unloaded. Shall we schedule the mission for first thing tomorrow?” Angela asked.
“Yes, and I want us flying high cover, then I want to deal directly with the President.”
“Again?” she said with a chuckle.
“It’s becoming a habit, isn’t it?” he said, shaking his head.
“But we don’t proceed until the railguns around the White House are destroyed,” she cautioned.
“Of course.”
“G2? Can you ring all the phones in each of the GST DS500 plants and play a warning through the phones or the plant intercom to evacuate the plant ten minutes before the jumpers arrive?”
“Checking. . . Yes, all locations have intercom capability built into their telephone systems.”
“Then add warnings to each plant into the mission plan, and give the jumpers assigned to each location a countdown clock. Thank you, G2.
“What if they leave people inside to try to keep you from destroying the plant?” Angela asked.
“With these disruptors, there won’t even be DNA left behind. I fully expect there to be a ton of people left inside the Pentagon, but if they see what happens to the GST plants, maybe they’ll get the message. They killed Zelda and Clarice; they must learn that to attack any of us results in devastating consequences.”
“Amen to that. I’m going to work on the assignments for each target. Do you mind manning the con?” asked Angela.
“Not at all. May I take a look when you’re done?”
“Absolutely. After all, it is your mission. All of us are here to back your play. They must pay,” she said, getting up to sit on her cot working with her datapad.
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