"If we impose martial law on the whole continent and call out all the reserves we can maintain order until we curtail all private use of the telephone land lines and fiber, to use them for needed public service. Once we have basic commercial communications again, we should have the basis of restarting a normal economy. If the foodstuffs we have are not distributed by ration, where they are needed, there will be massive starvation and unrest this winter. The stores won't be able to manage distribution or process the sale and the people won't be able to get cash. We probably don't even have enough cash in circulation to buy just food."
"When people have no food they don't all sit and die peacefully. They migrate looking for it, leaving their jobs. They'll fight for it and some will try to reach a warmer climate. Even if they have to walk. The police and military we need for control would be refugees themselves. Also if we can't communicate real time with them, we have to trust the commanders of our military forces to act with initiative, if they see an incursion on our borders or a threat to our ships or planes. We'll have to hope they don't get us in a war we can't handle. We simply can't micromanage them from a central command anymore."
"There won't be as much power to use in homes and businesses, because we won't have the fine and instantaneous data control, to keep the power flowing at near the full capacity of the grids. We can't limit or stop power with remote meters. There has never been any excess capacity built in for the hottest and coldest days. We'll have brown outs and if the grid goes down from storm or overload, it will take longer to bring back up. We can survive this winter with minimal casualties and with new ground networks and a few key launches of replacement satellites, assuming they aren't destroyed, we can start reconstructing this spring. The economy will be a fraction of normal this next year and it will take several years to really recover. Assuming we are not attacked by anyone hoping to take advantage of the situation."
The President spoke with his fists clutched in anger. "How long before we have these enemy combatants before cameras, showing them being locked away? We need to make an example of them. The public needs to see them hooded and bound in chains. If people think they can get away with defying us, we can lose control completely. There are still plenty of Mexicans and Quebecois, who are eager to break back away if they see opportunity."
"They have a better ship than anything we have. Or any other Earth power." Such a distinction was a new thing. No one had ever had to speak of non-Earth powers before. "Frankly I hope they stay out at the Clarke orbit, or even go to the moon. Because if they are waiting at M3 when the Cincinnati tries to dock there I don't hold out much hope for our ship surviving the encounter. If we reach M3 first, we better get our men inboard the station quickly, if we don't want them slaughtered." He suddenly realized the President had never mentioned a very pertinent matter. "Has nobody shown you the latest BBC video? Or were they all too afraid to show it to you?" he asked bitterly.
The anger which flashed on President Hadley's face was answer enough. "What video? Damn these cowardly traitors anyway. First they don't tell me about this new technology, now they are hiding something else? Somebody just did a career killer if I've been bypassed again." A wave of fear washed across the faces in the room. Thus the bloodletting and culling started within his administration, which would help disassemble it. "Show me this video."
General Horton talked to the technician helping with the presentation and arranged for the material to be put on the wall screen. He regarded with amusement the fear etched on all the faces among the President's advisors. That's what I'm here for, he reaffirmed to himself. A massager to be slaughtered instead of them. How terrified they are some part of the taint will reach out and mark them. He found deep humor in his detachment.
He wondered if he would be fired today, or if he would have opportunity to quit first? Perhaps either way, he would just be taken out the door and shot out of hand. Things were as chaotic now in the world's greatest power, as any two bit little Third World dictatorship. At least, he doubted he would be alone, if they dragged him out to be executed.
When the technician looked at him and indicated he had the feed, he just nodded to go ahead. There was nothing to be said to soften it. On the screen Easy informed them of the plan to destroy the satellites. Nobody had considered it a serious enough threat, to pass up the line of command. Then Ajay Singh made his speech declaring his one man war. To most of them, it was a frightening face, because it was not the irrational propaganda vid most wild-eyed terrorists sent in, laced with stale ideological phrases and religious hatred. It was a reasoned voice, self depreciating even, but obviously an educated man and absolutely unyielding in saying, "I will not submit."
Their memories too recently placed this same angry face driving a sword through his enemy, to not have a visceral response. He threatened to nibble on their ankles. They would have been more comfortable if he had ranted and screamed great threats, they could dismiss. This was not some posturing politician, who talked when threatened. He actually did something.
"He has the gall to suggest a great nation might sue for peace with one man? Is he really saying that? The man is mad. What kind of colossal ego would conceive of such a thing?" the President raged.
The General considered the question seriously. "The sort of a ego which is backed by the intellect to invent an entirely new fusion power technology. The sort of ego which has destroyed about a hundred billion dollars of spacecraft and satellites in the last two days and crippled our economy and military for at least the winter. He does hope others will join him, even if it was a rather indifferent call to battle he made, I must say, but we have no evidence anyone has done so, except for his companions on the spacecraft."
"He didn't start this confrontation actually, you should be aware. It all started a few days ago, when the Happy Lewis asked for clearance to return home to Mitsubishi 3 from ISSII. We made the error of refusing the flight plan, so we could betray his bride to be arrested by the Chinese, rather than grant her asylum. It was his pilot who refused the command to sit and surrender to them."
"We don't know if he did so at Singh's urging, or at his own initiative, but he seems every bit as uncowed as the Doctor. It hindsight it might have been much, much, cheaper to grant them passage and accept the woman's application than to deny it. I don't suppose we could offer to correct the initial point of dispute and see if we couldn't stand down in a sort of armistice?" he asked hopefully.
The President was visibly hyperventilating. "You," he said in a squeaky voice, pointing a quivering finger at the calm General, "are relieved of your command and stripped of all rank and standing for cowardice. You are removed from service and instructed to put yourself in house arrest. You are forbidden to communicate with your previous associates or the media. You will be very fortunate if you are not charged with aiding the enemy."
"You sad old man," Horton told him. "if you destroy everyone who brings you bad news you'll soon run out of advisers, because I can tell you, there's not a whole lot of good news coming to show you. I'll leave you with this warning. We have no idea at all what other capabilities these people might have. Don't be surprised if there is more than the fusion device. When someone is so far ahead of you technologically it rarely is in one tiny particular. And when you have to finally deal with the reality of this problem, don't call me back to discuss it because I won't work for a fool anymore."
"Military service in this country was just reduced by my firing without a board, to a cult of the personality. A defective personality. You'll come to regret it," he said over his shoulder, as the guards led him away. And yet the guards were surprisingly gentle with their touch. They had hesitated to take him away, even as the President was gesturing to remove him. There was more of fear in their faces than anger. The proper order of things which defined their world was crumbling and they didn't know what direction events might take.
* * *
Eddie was as tired as he had ever felt. He looked at the wreckage of t
he sat he had just burned, through their front ports.
"Thanks for the shooting lessons, but I'm ready to go home," he informed them. Everybody was whipped aboard the Happy. Nobody was arguing with him. They were low on supplies and fuel and dirty with no change of clothing and to the point of danger from stupid fatigue generated errors trying to operate a spacecraft. They could vacuum clean a set of clothing, but they were out of wipes to clean up with. Their known targets, within the envelope of their maneuvering capacity were pretty much gone. It was time to go home. Easy plotted a steep burn to drop them into M3, with a minimal exposure to Earth systems. It was a hot maneuver which would use almost every kilogram of their remaining fuel and reactive mass, but once they were home they would either get supplied again, or be arrested.
Either way they were done with this trip. None of them saw any point to going to another station and the moon was long ago unreachable from their use of fuel. They decided there was no point in calling ahead and telling anyone they were coming. It would just increase their chances of being intercepted. They'd dock at the repair shop if nothing bad was happening, or at the Lewis family cubic if there was any problem. The burn was going to be brutal for safety and efficiency, but they were going home and it sounded wonderful at this point.
* * *
The Moment of Contemplation lifted from the Chinese desert, like a textbook launch into a calm clear sky. On the other side of the world the Heavy Shuttle Cincinnati had already lifted like the Moment, in a vertical launch from the Cape. The Moment was configured like the ill-fated Jade, with a two man outfit in space armor, ready to do a boarding. Their mission was the same, to take two of the pirate's crew if possible and destroy the ship in any case. The station was not their concern, except to keep their target from reaching it. Things had not yet gotten to the point China would casually consider invading a USNA space station.
After seeing the BBC video the crew had their own thoughts about how likely they were to extract any of the crew. It looked more likely they would be in a straight up fight for their lives. In contrast, the Cincinnati carried twenty four soldiers in two squads, with a mixed bag of weapons and equipment and it had entirely too much assigned to attempt. They were to secure the station, but arrest the crew of the incoming Happy Lewis, even if they managed to arrive first and enter the station, as well as a long list of other people for whom they had pictures and biometric data.
The Happy Lewis was supposed to be captured rather than destroyed, although they were allowed to damage it in certain limited ways, carefully detailed. If they found and arrested everyone on the list, it meant the shuttle would be going home full of prisoners and they would be stuck behind indefinitely. The idea they were going to be on station indefinitely did not thrill any of them. Somehow they doubted they would get much cooperation from the locals and any operation which had this many objectives was almost guaranteed to be a screw-up.
* * *
"Hello Jon. Can you tell me if your man Eddie is still doing Ok?"
Jon looked in surprise at the face in his com. He hadn't ever expected to speak directly to him. Jan was in his office and had his usual relaxed look. But Jon suspected he would look just as calm while a hangman adjusted a noose around his neck. "Last I heard he was OK, but it has been some time. Between us," which Jon knew it wasn't on an open vid phone channel, "I haven't talked directly to him since he left your station, although he has left messages for me. Still, he has left nothing since they started taking out all the Chinese and USNA assets in geostationary orbit. Did you have a particular interest?"
"I found I liked Eddie," Jan admitted. "He had a refreshingly straight forward manner. I even got to meet his uncle Justine and some business associates. I sort of put my colors on his campaign, by putting them on the shuttle. It would go better for me at home if it doesn't look like a futile gesture. I wanted to invite you to keep me informed if you could. For example the heavy shuttle Cincinnati, which has lifted to rendezvous with M3. I was hoping you might know if Eddie will beat it back. I was told they were seen doing a burn, but my people are not sure when they'll get home."
"They made you a bit of a vid star didn't they?" Jon asked. "What happened to make things go so badly, after you walked away from them in the boom?"
"Oh, I badly underestimated the head fellow here in the Chinese delegation. I thought once he was locked out of the boom he'd be sensible and go home, but he enlisted the current control room fellows, who were Chinese and bypassed the elevators and locked himself in there with his countrymen. As you saw he called the tractor crew to ram your friends also. I never imagined he was so stupid. I had no idea April was running her suit camera and recorder in the boom. I still don't understand her foresight in doing so. So many things I've missed lately. Maybe I'm getting past prime for this game. In any case, Lee was one of those fellows you saw taking a suitless space walk in the vid, so he's not a factor anymore."
"You said you meet Eddie's uncle. Does he live there on II? I've never meet any of his folks. Didn't even know any of them were spacers."
Jan looked at him funny. "Spacers? Has he ever discussed his family with you? You've never looked into them in his background check?"
"No. He has to check clean or they'd never send him up, but all the background search stuff is run Dirtside and we never see the raw data. I have a very modest file on him. Educational history and such. It wouldn't matter who his relatives were, like unless they were all deeply involved in terror or something."
Jan was covering his mouth and seemed to be having trouble breathing. Jon decided not to pursue whatever was upsetting him. Probably some strange cultural bias thing he'd never understand. Like when his Serbian buddy in college had been so upset he'd befriended an Albanian. He had no idea who the Swiss were prejudiced against. Sometimes those feud things went back centuries, like the Turks and Albanians, or Israelis and Arabs and he didn't even try to keep track.
"I don't know when Eddie will be back, but I have a mutual friend I'll try to ask. If I find out I'll get back to you in text," he emphasized. "You might be interested also to know I turned in my resignation to Preston Harrison. So I'm not head of security here for the USNA any longer. But you're still welcome to call and chat any time. If you'll excuse me, I have to go arrange some things my friend. Thanks for calling." It was very weird that he called in the clear when he had a stack of one time pads to text message Jon. He wasn't sure at all who benefited, from knowing he was aware the Cincinnati was coming. Surely Jan didn't think they'd just turn back, because the mission was known? He must have some agenda of his own.
"My pleasure." Jan purred and cut the connection.
Jon put a message in their private net, "Margaret, we have the USNA Cincinnati inbound for dock. I just got a very casual and public heads up, from the head of security over at ISSII. You don't need to call the shuttle. We can assume it's just full of soldiers. They're not even trying to sneak in as civilians on a regular flight. They lifted a heavy military shuttle with no subtlety at all."
"Assuming they use the regular passenger dockage I'd like you to pre-position the charges I gave you on the docking tube, like you were shown and one on the face of your inspection podium, with a camera and redundant remote controls. At least we won't have to clear out a crowd of civilians trying to meet a flight. Call Skip and have him do the lockdown on outgoing data too. The Happy Lewis is coming in too, but we don't know which will be first. I'm trying to find out," next he called Heather.
"No, I'm not going to ping off their transponder." Heather said. "If they are back in LEO it could expose them to an intercept. I haven't sent them anything for hours, because they disappeared out at the geostationary level. If they're smart they turned it off anyway."
"We have to set up a laser com net in the future. We'll have a number of throw away minisats with known orbital elements as a receiver and when you hit them with a laser they relay the message to a general broadcast, or beam it to us here on M3. The system won't expose y
our location. When they feel safe they'll talk to us. I'll tell them what's happening if they do contact me."
* * *
Margaret wore her p-suit in the access tube, but left the faceplate open. It was easier to work in pressure and vent it when she was done. She positioned the disguised Claymore on the end of the tube, above the single door, but pointing back up the tube away from the ship end. There was a full airlock at the station end of the boom where the tube terminated, but this end only had a single door and depended on the ship for an airlock here. It was just a convenience to keep the tube pressurized, to avoid a long pump down, not a primary safety feature.
On the onside of the docking collar she placed a larger demolition charge, that would part the tube from the ship and likely destroy the lock integrity in the ship There was already a similar Claymore hanging on the face of her sturdy podium, pointing into the other end of the docking tube. Anyone in the tube who planned on surviving both going off, had better be in something approaching a main battle tank, not suit armor. The detonators were by radio, so even if she blew the tube off the station end, she would not be severing her controls to the ship end.
She would wait inside the hab, to watch the cameras and blow the charges, but if she failed to stop them she would retreat, leaving the inner airlock unlocked and undamaged. They didn't want to make them blow the inner lock and decompress a huge section to enter. Warning were going out now to everyone on station to get their p-suits on, or drag their emergency suits out and check them.
The Moment of Contemplation was arriving at M3 first. They were using the same maneuver the Jade had demonstrated intercepting the Happy Lewis. They would shoot past swinging their nose around as they passed and brake back to a rendezvous. It wasted fuel and it wasted time, but it avoided turning their rear to the station, or any ships docked there, so that they were blind to an attack. However as they caught up with the station from behind the Happy Lewis was dropping in, at that very disadvantage of traveling tail first, with their plasma plume obscuring their view in both visible light and radar.
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