Fortunately, that doesn’t seem to be quite what we’re doing.
Many of my squadron are down, being worked on, but others are still out there, making sure the sun is clear of the enemy. My last stunt got me chewed out and sent to the med bay, but most of our pilots are in good shape. Usually they’re back for a few hours for testing, or several hours of sleep, if they’ve flown a bunch of patrols around the sun.
With all the patrols out there, we’re not finding much anymore.
It looks like my squadron and Rackham’s found most of the Saturnine space artillery in the first pass. The Saturnine saw our ships coming and clustered their batteries in two sunspot clusters in the northern and southern hemispheres. They must have figured we’d miss them and fly on by. Much of the rest of the things we’ve found have been sensor and communications systems that were probably to help the weapons aim at long distance targets. By now, I doubt there’s even many of those left.
So if they really, desperately needed frame pilots out there, I’d be out there. Since this whole operation is wrapping up, they’re taking their time and making sure I’m OK.
Still, it’s boring with only the ceiling monitors to keep my attention.
There isn’t a lot of news down here at the center of the solar system. Not a lot of communications are being beamed down here, and those that are tend to get messed up by the sun’s output and corona. Still, we get some news briefs, along with the fleet communications being tight beamed at the Callisto.
Saturn is denying the whole thing, of course. They insist those weapons systems couldn’t have been theirs since they pulled all their forces out of the inner system because of the armistice. They also point out that there’s no evidence, since all the targets were essentially vaporized, either by our weapons, or by the furious inferno of the solar environment.
It’s frustrating, but it doesn’t diminish what we’ve accomplished. Those gamma-ray batteries could have been used to strike at ships and asteroid settlements throughout the solar system. There would have been no warning and no way to tell exactly where it came from, or who attacked. Saturn could have wrecked cities and spacecraft, all the while denying they had anything to do with it. It would have been a disaster, where Saturn could blackmail everyone indirectly by mentioning the hazards to the inner system settlements, while making war far more perilous as they’d hold the central position of the solar system even before hostilities began.
So, yeah, it was worth it.
Still, I’ll be glad when we finally leave the sun behind.
This close into the sun, the fleet can’t really send or receive a lot of mail or other communications that help make life good. There’s also the issue of being near a giant fireball that’s kind of unsettling, even if the ships’ shielding can take it. The patrols are also hard on everybody. It’ll be nice to get back out in deep space where we belong.
Word is, we’ll be going soon, once we’re sure we’ve got the sun safe. Next up is the big diplomatic mission to Venus. We’ll meet up with the diplomats from Jupiter, Luna, Terra, and yes, even Mars. Officially, it’s for setting up how things will work in the inner system in the post-war period. Unofficially, it’s going to be a long party, where important diplomats can feel like they’re important. I’m sure it’ll be mostly for show.
Nothing ever really happens at these things, after all.
* * * * *
Chapter 6
Morning Star
Venus grows slowly, imperceptibly in the holo-view of my cabin.
No longer completely covered in thick clouds, it’s still a stunning world from space. Instead of featureless white, the planet is covered in swirling clouds and haze that part here and there to reveal the rich blue seas and purple jungles covering the continents. All around it gleam the orbital cities and the drive flames of one of the busiest orbital spaces in the solar system. Artificial magnetic fields scintillate over the planet, deflecting the harsh solar wind and protecting the jewel-like world below. Even this would make the gleaming, misty world one of the most beautiful spectacles in space.
The Chandelier puts it all to shame, though.
Gleaming constellations of segmented mirrors and prisms orbit the planet in an ever-shifting fractal design of intricate complexity and dazzling light. The whole looks like an impossible flower of prismatic light unfurling with the planet Venus at the center. It’s not just for beauty, though. The Chandelier blocks excessive sunlight during the long daylight part of the year and redirects light to the night-side during the months-long night. There’s really nothing else like it. We’ve got solar mirrors around Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto, of course, but those are purely functional giant discs, not works of art like the Chandelier.
Leave it to Venusians to turn everything into an art form.
Everyone’s excited about going to Venus, of course. Who wouldn’t be?
The planet is a world of surpassing beauty and wonder, and the subject of innumerable holo-dramas. Everyone’s seen pictures of their floating cities, the fantastic gardens, the layered jungles, and the sapphire blue seas. We’ve seen the Venusians in all their endless variety—some monstrous and some eerily beautiful. Who hasn’t heard of and thought about the strange and endless temptations available only on that cloudy world of mystery and wonder?
Venus used to look a lot like Hell, but that’s all in the past. The super-pressure atmosphere, sulfuric acid clouds, and volcanic wastelands have been changed in what remains the most ambitious and successful terraforming project in the history of the solar system. The first cloud cities floated above the deadly cloud banks as the terraforming project of generations began. Modified microbes began the long, slow process of transforming the atmosphere into breathable air, lowering the pressure to something livable. Carefully engineered plants and animals cover the world in a planetary garden of stunning complexity and splendor.
The appearance of Venus may have changed, but it’s still a dangerous place. Intrigue, treachery, and dynastic plots are the norm in Venusian social life. The Venusian Assassins Guild remains a socially accessible and even well-regarded career in Venus. Venusian bioengineering and biotech is second to none, maybe better than ours, and so engineered diseases remain an ever-present hazard. Below, the beautiful gardens of Venus are famous for having some of the deadliest creatures in the solar system.
There are more subtle dangers there as well. Any society stands on the reliability of social contracts, and the endless varied and subtle temptations of the Venusians can shatter the bonds that hold us all together. Marriages have been ruined, and servicemen have been turned to treason by the wiles of Venusians while visiting this misty planet before, and it could happen again.
There’s still a lot of bad blood between Venus and Jupiter at the moment. It wasn’t just that we were shooting at each other in the Battle of Mars; it was the way they stabbed us in the back to do it. Officially, it was an accident of target identification in the chaos of battle, and they’re really, really sorry about it. Personally, I think the Venusian urge to betray was just too much for them to resist.
Whether the fighting between us is truly over or not, the Venusians can hold a grudge forever. They’ve always had a chip on their shoulder about Jupiter. Venus has had some amazing accomplishments, so they feel they should now be the dominant power in the solar system—or at least the inner solar system—and they never seem to understand why anyone would disagree with that. Jupiter’s lead in hard technology and military tech has always rubbed them the wrong way, and the fact that Jupiter is its own little solar system makes the jealousy and rivalry worse. Then there’s Saturn, our real rival, and an ever-present threat to Venus and any other world not already under its shadow. Consigned to a distant #3 in the solar hierarchy, Venus has had a policy of playing Jupiter and Saturn against each other.
Until now.
Now, Saturn is finally out of the inner system. As for the other worlds, Terra is crippled, Luna is exhausted, and Mars is a basket
case. The only thing standing in the path of Venusian domination of the inner solar system is…us.
I worry that too many of us don’t get it. We Jovians tend to be quick to forgive and forget, and we try to maintain a live and let live approach with everyone. It’s served us well—Jupiter was formed of a variety of peoples fleeing the early State of Terra, and we had to learn to let go of past vendettas and work together to build something new. We’re pretty much ready to forget about what the Venusians did to us just a year ago.
The problem is a lot of people just don’t work that way. Venusian noble families pass down grudges and vendettas from generation to generation along with the rest of their inheritance. Every imagined slight or insult, every mote of jealously or envy, all of it is concealed behind the pleasant façade of the Venusian courtiers in all their elegance.
So while everyone else is looking forward to going to Venus, I’m wishing we’d just stay aboard ship the whole time…which we can’t do.
No; we’ve got to go down there and be part of the honor guard for a bunch of diplomats and celebrities.
* * *
The briefing from Dale Shackleford has been going on for a while. Partly it’s because Intelligence Division is worried that a man with an interplanetary price on his head will be in the honor guard for Jupiter’s diplomatic mission, and partly it’s because the complexity of subterfuge of Venusian society is legendary. I think it’s also partly because he thinks I’m an idiot.
“—and remember, don’t inject anything they offer you,” he adds for the seventh or eighth time.
I nod silently and lean back in my chair. Empty bulbs of coffee are scattered everywhere in the small meeting room, but I don’t know exactly how many. I do know there are 4,832 files he’s had me load into my cyber-augments for study.
“You could take in nano or biotech, or even old-fashioned drugs and poisons from anything you eat or drink,” he continues, going back to something else we’ve already gone over before.
“Neither eat nor drink anything of the land of the fair folk, lest they bewitch you,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Mr. Shackleton—” I sit back up, “—I’m going to be a member of the honor guard to a diplomatic liaison. I’ll be required to go to all the boring, pompous parties and events. You’ve said more than once it would be insulting if I didn’t eat or drink there, but I’m also not allowed to do so…”
“You’re allowed to do so, even expected to, but it’s dangerous.”
“Oh…that’s all right, then.” I rub my eyes. The last hours spent on Venusian social protocol are hours of my life I’ll never get back. “Being careful mostly meaning not being an idiot and paying attention to any warnings in my newly upgraded augmentation?”
“Yes.” He nods, happy I’ve been listening and can at least parrot information back to him from an earlier conversation. Maybe for an encore I’ll add two and two. “The upgrades to your augments will not only detect nearly any toxin, biohazard, or nanotech, but also work aggressively to neutralize them. You should now be proof against almost any conceivable attack.”
“I’m invincible!” I grin.
He turns pale. “No, not at all! There’s always the possibility Venus has developed something new that’s not in our files. In fact, they likely have, being the solar system leader in biotech.”
“It was a joke,” I grumble. The Jovian Navy trusts me to fly artificially intelligent exo-frames in combat; I’d have thought this guy would assume I know how to seal my shoes.
“Also, beware of what you touch…or even breathe,” he warns. “Anything and everything could be a vector for almost anything.”
“Right, I got it.” I nod. “Anything you eat, drink, touch, or breathe can kill you—and have fun at the party, Mike.”
“Also, stay away from the girls.”
“I’m a happily married man, Mr. Shackleford.”
“Yeah, so were lots of other officers who were turned.” He leans forward. “Look, the Venusians are experts at this. They’ve gotten to Jovian Marine sentries, intelligence officers, senior diplomats, and members of the Jupiter Senate. Anyone is potentially vulnerable…anyone.”
“I’ll watch myself; you don’t need to worry. How about your side? What will your people be doing to protect me during all this?”
“We’ve taken steps,” he answers curtly.
“Ah, yes…steps.”
“Yes.”
“Steps…indeed.”
“Quite.”
There’s a long, awkward pause.
“What does that mean, exactly?” I finally ask.
“We really can’t say.”
“Ah. So if I’m captured, they can’t torture out of me how my protective detail is arranged? Brilliant.”
“There are methods we simply can’t reveal. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” I start to get up. “Anything else?”
“No, we’ve covered most of it—the rest is in your files.”
As I make my way out, he adds, “Do have fun at the party, Michael.”
I’m sure it’ll be a blast.
* * *
They say everyone loves a sharp-dressed man.
For a flight officer like myself, that would mean full mess dress with all the ribbons and glitz. I’ve never really felt comfortable in formal attire. You can’t move properly in it, you can’t fight in it, and you always have to worry about spilling something on it. Frankly, I’m more comfortable in battle armor.
Fortunately, battle armor is exactly what I’ll be wearing to the event. It’s not like I could properly fly a frame in mess dress anyway.
Final check—how do I look?
Accessing the hangar cameras with my augments, I get a panoramic view of my armor configuration, which I assemble into a 3D model for examination.
My flight armor is now set for formal occasions. The nanotech camouflage displays the deep navy blue and flashing gold of the Jovian Republic Navy. Golden wings cover my shoulders, and my insignia and rank flash in gold. My citations and medals are also displayed on my chest. Normally we don’t wear or display all this stuff, but we’re on show for the Venusians. Besides, it might give them a clue to who they’d be messing with if they try anything.
Talon is also all shined up, waiting in the hangar. He’s in deep navy blue and gold, with a nano coating layered over his armor. With a laser refraction coating under the nano-coat, the blue flashes though sky-blue down to royal purple, and the gold edges of his wings gleam brighter than the real metal. Finally, if all that wasn’t bright enough, artificial diamond crystal has been layered over everything, shattering light into a prismatic spectrum.
We’re all set to strut in front of the Venusian peacocks.
The Venusians have honor guards for their important nobles, or officials who represent those nobles. While we don’t have nobles, our ambassadors are certainly representatives of the Jovian citizens, so deserve the full respect any Venusian emissary would insist on. That means my flight will escort the ambassador’s shuttle and the Marines down to the surface. Normally, we’d be going in with no ammunition, with the power links out of our lasers, and the whole thing would be done with parade troops who focus on the combat specialty of marching while looking pretty.
Not this time.
This time, they get the real thing. There are actual combat Marines in full battle gear in that shuttle, and my flight has hot lasers and a full load of missiles and SPGs. After everything that’s happened over the last year, and all the times Venus has stabbed us in the back, we have to be ready for anything. If the Venusians try anything, they’ll regret it.
The diplomats howled and complained, of course, but it’s real fighters or nothing, and they didn’t want to look bad in front of their Venusian counterparts by not having their own honor guard.
Personally, I doubt we’ll see any action in our frames, though. The Venusians don’t like the direct approach, so it’ll probably be assassins, nanotech, o
r something else. We’re mostly for show…mostly. The real protection will be from the hidden protective detail—at least I hope it will be, because I don’t have much of an idea how to fight the kind of hidden shadow battle the Venusians are famous for. I’d feel better if I knew what the Intelligence Division was going to do, but they won’t tell me anything.
“You ready for this, Talon?” I ask as I climb up the stairs and into the cockpit.
“Of course, sir,” he replies calmly. “All systems are functioning optimally, and the diplomatic protocols are loaded and ready.”
“All right. Let’s get this show on the road.” I close the hatch and prepare for flight.
* * *
Near orbit around Venus is something to see.
Rotating space habitats are everywhere, and the blue stars of drive engines whirl and dance through space—just like around any other major planet. It’s one of the few living worlds in the solar system, and the curve of the horizon fills most of my view with clouds and oceans, easily as dramatic and breathtaking as Earth from space. Having the Chandelier overhead is unlike anything else, though.
The Venusians are justifiably proud of one of their finest works of art. Whole sections of space flash and shine from the multiple layers of hundred-kilometer mirrors orbiting overhead, to the sides, and below. Images of the surface of Venus, star fields, the blazing sun, and other ships and stations are all reflected down, seeming to be in wildly independent motion. Thousands of smaller prisms refract light, creating intersecting flashing beams of every conceivable color that shine and flare from every direction. Millions of tiny prisms and mirrors also work together in shining formations to focus light into complex, ever-shifting patterns of varying color and intensity.
Cherubim Page 13