April 3: The Middle of Nowhere

by Mackey Chandler

  "What about you three?" Heather asked Katia, Johnson and Happy. "You willing to fight the force from Armstrong if I decide to stop them?"

  "I'm a citizen of Home," Happy reminded her. "I'm helping you first as a favor to April, but I'm an employee of your firm and I've already blown away two ships and attacked a sovereign nation for you. Home hasn't passed a law saying I can't serve a foreign nation anyway, so it doesn't matter to me. As long as the land grants and pay keep coming I'm 'Happy'. If you are going to operate as a state I wouldn't mind if you want to grants letters of marque while we're at it. I'd much rather capture ships for spoil than blow them to hell and gone."

  "What Happy said," Johnson assured her. "I knew we might fight when we drove out here. Keep the pay coming and we mercenaries will take care of business for you."

  "I'm just along for the ride," Katia said, hands spread wide to show her innocence. "I'm supposed to see that the rovers run fine and I've done a damn fine job if I do say so myself. If I get a sudden urge to stay when it comes time to go home we'll talk about it then. Sort of depends on if you keep kicking butt," she admitted.

  "I have to call Home," Heather insisted looking at the time. "Johnson, see if you can get Jon for me and bring up a display of the projected route for the other group out of Armstrong and have it update real time." Then she leaned back and closed her eyes.

  "Jon here," A deep rich, theatrical voice jarred her back fully awake. Heather checked the time quickly. It had only been a few minutes, but she had drifted off far enough to lose her time sense. The kind of tension they were operating under was exhausting. Jon was at his desk head as always completely bare. She didn't know if he was bald or if he shaved it. It only accentuated the fact he his neck went down without any taper. The effect was like a squat fireplug sitting on his shoulders.

  "Jon, I'm out on what is effectively our western border. I have a bunch of refugees here who are fleeing Armstrong and several of them have bought land from us so it's perfectly reasonable they'd be coming here. Problem is there are several rovers pursuing them from Armstrong and these people expect that group will be trying to arrest them and force them to return. I'm not disposed to let them grab people from our settlement for stupid administrative type offenses when they've already been shooting at us unprovoked. I believe we have destroyed every armed USNA ship on the Moon, so we don't face a threat there anymore. All the more reason to give their ground forces no chance to harm us. If you have contacts high enough to get these goons to hold off we need to talk to them fast because we are maybe an hour from having another hostile contact."

  "I've already called President Wiggen while you were talking," Jon assured her. "She was quick before to call me and assume and accuse Home of somehow being behind the destruction of their ships. So I expect she'll take my call. I've made clear you are independent, but I also reserved some interest because we are concerned about how any citizens of Home are treated. I also expressed personal confidence that you and Jeff are not unreasonable aggressors. I think the more the facts of the matter filter out the clearer that will become. Do you have what you need to hold out against their rover force?"

  "Yes, I'd rather not, but I can engage them and defeat them. For that matter I could destroy Armstrong from here. Happy made clear how you took our side with Wiggen when he came in. Can you be a conduit again to allow us to talk and not drag Home in deeper?"

  "I think so. However we may want to get in deeper. Just because you are not here doesn't mean the North Americans have license to take pot shots at our citizens off Home. That's something they need to understand quickly if they have any such illusions. It may not have been spelled out in our treaty, but only because it's so obvious it shouldn't have to be detailed. I'll call a special session of the voters if I need to on that issue. Just a moment I have that call."

  "President Wiggen, I have Heather Anderson of Lunar Central on com. May I suggest we split the screen in a conference and discuss the issues?"

  "Perhaps, if she is simply a private citizen and not acting for Home why should I give her the consideration I'd give a head of state?"

  Jon wrinkled his nose up like he'd smelled something bad. "From where I'm sitting it appears your forces fired on her without provocation. If that's your government's policy to allow your remote commanders discretion to massacre civilians and not review their actions then I don't see why we'd give you any respect as head of such a state. If you want a reason I'd think the simple fact her forces have defeated your space forces on the moon and may engage their ground forces in the next couple hours seems sufficient reason," he suggested.

  "She frankly assures me she can defeat them too. Why would you risk that happening? That seems sufficient reason for a little respect. You appear to have a very tenuous hold on your lunar presence even without Home becoming involved and despite what you think, we are not...yet. Let me say it plainly. You don't want us to get involved," Jon told her.

  "I've given no orders to anyone at Armstrong to take action against other interests on the Moon. I haven't had any new reports from my commander at Armstrong which I took for a good thing. If he was close to engaging in hostilities with some outside force I'd have expected to have heard from him. But given your complaints I'm asking my staff right now to have him com me and I'll bring him in this conference and you may bring Ms. Anderson in."

  Jon split the screen and brought Heather in.

  "So," President Wiggen paused, taking time to inspect Heather's pressure suit and the rover interior, "let me hear your theory of how I should deal with you, child."

  Heather ignored the snub and calmed herself. She double checked carefully that Johnson was showing only her on the camera pickup and nothing that should stay hidden.

  "I'd suggest you regard me as a warlord, Madam President. I know your government has treated with such often enough in the past. I'd think it offers nothing new or difficult," That was a little dig, but entirely true.

  "I have significant force of arms at my disposal and a group of civilians from Armstrong have fled to my territory asking my protection. Given their story of how they have been treated I'm disposed to offer them sanctuary. Several of them own land here so I could hardly deny them entry even if I refused to offer protection. I'm told the North Americans coming along behind have heavier weapons available that could damage our vehicles or habitat so I will not allow them opportunity to fire first as they did several times yesterday."

  "I will engage and destroy them here on our border before they come over the horizon if they are not withdrawn. I respectfully ask you to issue such orders. Financially, anything our refugees owe can be negotiated after, but their blood is not on the table. I won't allow them to be arrested over administrative, not criminal matters."

  "Do these people have the means to make restitution if that is the concern? Usually people described as refugees are destitute."

  "They claim they have funds, but if not I pledge my personal fortune bond," Heather said, as if that closed the matter.

  "And that's what? Lots on a lunar plain we could have as easy claimed or can pick another area right now and have the same thing for free?"

  Heather lifted an eyebrow and smiled. "I'd think your intelligence services would lay out better information at your fingertips when you speak on com with a person. If they had investigated properly you'd know I have interests off Luna. I'm not a poor person by any means.

  "I have a note here," President Wiggen said. It was an actual paper note handed her and they could see the top edge of it as she read it.

  "I'm informed the commander of Armstrong is off base and unavailable." She read it as a question, disbelieving and then looked off camera and angrily asked someone unseen, "Then why don't you have whoever was left in charge on the com waiting for me?" Whatever the reply they couldn't hear, but President Wiggen looked furious and said, "Remove him and make damn sure his replacement is smart enough not to hang up on the White House."

  "You, madam, appear to
no longer have control of your forces here on the moon," Heather said, not angry but just matter of fact. "I thank you for your time and speaking with me and you too Jon, but I have critical things to do here and this conference doesn't look like it can be productive. Good day to you," she said and disconnected.

  Everyone was looking at her expectantly.

  "You folks might as well go ahead to Central. By the time you are in radio range they should have your ranch boundaries laid out. I sure hope you are self sufficient for the short term, because we don't have much help to offer yet."

  "We are, but if you are going to deal with the bunch from Armstrong I'd like to stay and witness for the group," Dakota asked. "We have an extra driver in my train and they're almost there anyway."

  "Fine," Heather agreed, "if you can ride in a sling chair belted against the bulkhead. We don't have any extra permanent seats."

  "It's not that far compared to what we just traveled. I'll be fine," but the young woman looked very distressed.

  "You're rather ambivalent," Heather observed. "Are you people sure you want to be saved?"

  "You have to understand. We know every one of those people coming after us. We somehow thought we'd get away to your settlement and they wouldn't be able to come after us, or if they did you'd turn them away. We didn't know the idiots were going to shoot at you!"

  He'd been quiet for so long, but Happy spoke up. "You know what's even worse about it?"

  Both of the Americans shook their heads no.

  "They have control of sat com, so they know that they lost three ships and their control dome at Armstrong and they still haven't turned back." Happy shook his head, but it was in disbelief. "They might know they hit the Happy Lewis, but they can't be sure she went down or is unflyable. Their position is untenable so they should retreat. What the heck is wrong with these people? Anybody with a lick of sense would have turned back."

  "Well, again, we know them," Dakota said.

  "The commander, Jack Loesher, never made a mistake in his life," Ted interrupted angrily. "He's a control freak and wildly optimistic that Murphy will never visit him. The sort that as a child would defiantly protest his innocence of the empty cookie jar with crumbs on his face. Not the sort of boss you want in a Lunar environment where you have to plan that things will go wrong. And when they do, he's the sort who will do anything in the world to cover up and especially cover his own butt. Is it any wonder, seeing how stubborn he is, we are running away from his little paradise?"

  "Get on back to your rover," Heather told him. "I want to leave this spot as soon as I run our fire mission and I want you safely clear of this area then too."

  "Thank you," Ted said and headed for the airlock.

  "A moment," Happy said sharply. "Heather, are you accepting Ted's oath or not? I think you owe him a yes or no and I want it on record so we know what the basis of our actions are later."

  "Yes. That's what I told President Wiggen. For better or for worse I've declared myself a warlord. So yes Ted, you have the shelter of the strong hand or arm or whatever of a teenage girl with a old cannon and a very shot-up spaceship."

  "My Lady," he smiled. "Younger women than you have set a throne and directed armies without a regent or husband. I'm a student of history. I could see you were in command here before I offered my service. Do you still want to bonk me on the shoulder with something?" he offered. "The ceremony was called the accolade," he told her.

  "With what, my silly little pistol?"

  "Ceremonies are important," Happy insisted. "An ancient form was to clasp your hands like in prayer and the Lord would put his hands on each side to show control. No device needed. Why not adopt that custom?"

  Ted turned back and offered his hands. "Do you want me to repeat the whole thing?"

  "No I think it would be diminished by repetition," Heather said. She put her much smaller hands on each side and said, "I accept your service." The rest of them shocked her by applauding politely. She couldn't even tell who started it.

  "Thank you," he said, moving to leave again, but it was different now.

  "I'll offer the same deal," Dakota said with her hands out. "I'm not sure I could repeat it word for word."

  "He speaks very prettily and dramatically, doesn't he? I'll run the black box recording and print it out for you," Heather chuckled. "I suspect we'll need it again, I take your service too," she affirmed and held the woman's hands still for a moment. This time Ted got to clap.

  When Dakota withdrew with Happy to rig her seat Heather sat silent for a moment Johnson looking at her funny. The weird thing was she felt different. She was publicly responsible for these people. Happy was right, ceremonies really did matter.

  Chapter 22

  The road trains started up again and filed past their ports. Some were rather interesting combinations of living quarters and storage containers. The designers who had developed the modular concept of lunar construction never considered just how easy it made stealing an entire building instead of some of the contents. For a couple at the rear they’d run out of rolling carriages so they were on skis.

  "I'd like some advice here," Heather requested. "What are your thoughts on this follow-on group and how they will behave?"

  "You remember what Charles said?" Happy reminded them. "They are spread out like somebody knew what they were doing. Maybe somebody that had military experience with armor. My bet is once they heard we could shoot back they opened the separation up as much as they felt comfortable."

  "As Ted said, the commander is a control freak. I don't think he would let the rear elements get out of his sight and just relay instructions to them by radio," Dakota offered.

  "If I wanted to keep my rovers line of sight I would want the rear not to fall back more than about a kilometer," Heather said. "More than that you'd start losing them in the dips and contours too often."

  "You have a cannon and the plain is fairly flat. Couldn't you just sit and wait for them to drive up and then open fire? How could they get close enough to use an RPG on you?" Dakota asked.

  "Okay, say I do that," Heather allowed. "I sit in a dip like I did with you guys and wait. If the lead rovers get within a kilometer I open fire, because I don't want to open fire with ten kiloton shells at a few hundred meters. We'd blow ourselves up too. I don't have enough practice to want to use the conventional shells except if we have to approach a rover to check for survivors or to do salvage. If I have six of the nine in sight and manage to shoot them before they can run away I still could have three out there almost two kilometers away. They can run different directions and hide behind rocks and in dips. They can put flankers out on foot to ambush us with the RPGs. There's entirely too much chance one of them will get lucky and bag us instead of the other way around."

  Katia spoke up too. "And we have no idea if they have sufficient fuel to return to Armstrong. If they lose us out here they may have no choice but to still follow us back to Central and wait until we are off guard to raid us. If we don't know we'd have to set a permanent guard and watch. They could get in close with the rover and then infiltrate us on foot. Better to make a clean sweep if we can."

  "We know approximately where they are," Johnson pointed the plot out on the big screen. "They will have plotted on their maps that they will catch up with the others before they get to our administrative area at Central. Any intercept should be fine as long as they don't have time to disperse into their ranches and dig in."

  "But we don't know if anything happened to slow them down. They could have had mechanical problems and stopped for an unknown time." Heather theorized."

  "Ma'am?"

  "Yes, Dakota?"

  "I can't imagine Jack being afraid of us. So I'm pretty sure he'll just follow our tracks. If we'd known he was following we'd have set up an ambush of some sort, but he'd never give us that much credit. Doesn't that make things simpler for you?"

  "If that's true, we know where we saw the road trains come over that rise on the map about t
wenty kilometers away. We can lay a fire mission on them when we see the lead element," Johnson suggested.

  "No," Heather said. "We can watch that hill from where we stopped, go ahead and position us back there right in our tracks Johnson, but we watch their lights and wait until the last rover has cleared that hill. Then we lay a barrage on them only a few kilometers ahead. That's getting close. I'd rather shoot them over the horizon. But this is much more certain. And we don't waste rounds covering a huge area if they haven't spread out. Questions? Suggestions?"

  "The shutters for our ports..." Katia spoke. "If you undog them and swing them down you can prop them up with the lock down bar like an awning. I'd do that and then turn away after you fire. At sixteen kilometers we may still have rocks fall from the blasts and I'd rather take it on the shutters than the glass."

  "Sounds like a plan," Heather agreed. "You EV and do that when we stop."

  Johnson had taken them on a long loop back into the dip and followed their old tracks right to the spot from which they'd sighted the fleeing rovers before.

  "It looks like forty minutes until they hit that hill from our over flight data if they've kept their speed unchanged. That's 03:27:00. I've got a hundred bucks says we'll see their lights before then," Johnson offered.

  "You're on," Katia accepted. "No way they didn't stop along the way for something. A full day of riding in a fast rover will beat you half to death."

  "Dakota - you want a piece of this?"

  "Not me. This Jack can push them pretty hard. If anybody broke down he might just leave them. Won't even surprise me even if they are early."

  "When you're through placing bets, I'd like several patterns worked out for firing. If they are still bunched up in a five hundred meter square, or if they are spread out in twice that area," Heather told him.