"Thomas, you take care of them."
"You have my word on that, Mr. President," the marine assured him.
"Sir, we need to get you to the Starhawk. We have everything ready for you there."
"Calvin Dean?"
"He is in route to intercept up just outside the park on I-4," Kootie replied.
"I wish I could talk you out of this, sir, but I gave up on talking you out of things nearly four years ago." Thomas looked solemnly at him.
"I have to stop this, Thomas."
"We understand, Mr. President," Clay replied with a nod. Alexander wasn't sure if the big marine NCO looked as if he could cry or bite super-hardened, metal-plated composite nails in two. "Sir, I have a family, you know. And I've always felt that it was the love I have for them that was the reason I kept doing what I do. You know what I mean, sir?" Moore only nodded at the marine, and then he took a deep, calming breath, swelling out his chest.
"All right, let's get on with this. I've got a bunch of crazy fucking Seppy robots to slay!"
"Oorah, sir. Oorah."
"Intel shows only the one gluonium source, sir," General Brown pointed out in the holoprojection of the Disney World complex to Moore.
"Are we sure?"
"Yes, sir. Gluonium is pretty damned hard to hide. We just weren't looking for it at Disney World. We'll have to start looking for it everywhere from now on."
"Yes, you will. Okay. One bomb. That is good."
The Starhawk zoomed at six hundred kilometers per hour across the Tampa treetops. Thomas sat at the gunner's seat on the left side of the lifter, while Clay sat on the right side. The two marines scanned for potential threats beneath them that they could pepper with the forty-millimeter cannons. Two FM-12s flanked each side of the lifter in fighter mode. The formation of the Starhawk and the four mecha fighters tore across the Florida morning toward the Disney complex.
Moore dropped his underwear to the deck of the troop carrier, feeling the warm, humid air wash over his body, giving him a slight run of chills up his spine. A marine colonel helped him step into the organogel undergarment for the armored environment suit. The cool pseudo liquid immediately adjusted to his body temperature and lubricated itself so that the garment slipped on like a second layer of skin, forcing the chills to dissipate rapidly. The gel filled in all the space between his body and the outer layer of the bodysuit and was filled with anesthetic and other chemicals that would keep him from itching, burning, chafing, or any other uncomfortable thing that might require a physical adjustment that couldn't be made once inside the suit. The garment was comfortable. In fact, it had been suggested that it was the most comfortable "second skin" garment ever invented by mankind. Moore didn't really give a shit. It was part of the suit. He needed the suit to do what had to be done. Doing what had to be done was the only thing going through his mind at the moment.
"Been a long time," he said to himself. Alexander eyed the little needle-nosed vial in his palm. Then he jammed the injector into his neck and then pulled the zipcord up his back. He placed the sticky- tab tight over his right shoulder and worked his neck from side to side, forcing the air bubbles out from the turtleneck with a schlurrp. Then the colonel helped him into the back of the e-suit jumpboots. Alexander could feel the warm sensation of the stims, painkillers, and immunobooster coursing through his veins. With each heartbeat, he felt a surge of invulnerability flood his body.
"Obviously, not your first time in an e-suit, sir," the colonel said with a grin.
"I once spent thirty-seven and a half days in one, Colonel. Worst fucking time of my life," Moore replied. The colonel looked approvingly at him. The young lieutenant on the other side of the suit looked at Moore skeptically. "I highly recommend it if you ever get the chance."
"I thought the record in one of these things was only nine days, sir?" the lieutenant said knowingly, almost calling out the president for lying.
"Nobody ever told me there was a record," Moore shrugged and pulled the arms into place. The seam in the back of the armored e-suit sealed itself, and the armor grew hard in place over the seal layer.
"Lieutenant, don't you follow politics?" the colonel asked, snapping the glove layer on with a slap. "That is the official witnessed record they teach at suit quals. President Moore here had an AIC-confirmed, thirty-seven and a half days of survival in his suit during the Desert Campaigns."
"No, sir. I'm not very interested in politics. And the Desert Campaigns was before I was born, sir."
"Young man. Lieutenant, uh," Moore looked at the kid's nametags. "Ulrich. Lieutenant Ulrich, just because you aren't interested in politics doesn't mean it isn't interested in you. I suggest you start learning to follow who leads you a little more closely."
"Uh, okay, sir." Lieutenant Ulrich didn't have the slightest idea what Moore was telling him, but he might, one day, if he lived long enough. Moore dropped it and focused on his suit.
Abigail, how's our plan coming?
I think I've got it figured out, sir. But I suspect you'll have very little time, from debilitating the AIs to taking the bomb away. I estimate that you'll have seventeen seconds. Then keeping it away will be the hard part. There is no doubt that once they overcome the jamming, they will detonate the bomb.
Understood.
"Mr. President!" General Brown shouted from the cockpit. The soft whining of the troop carrier's engines nearly drowned out his voice.
"Yes, General?"
"The U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln and the U.S.S. John Tyler have just come out of hyperspace in a hovering orbit of about three hundred kilometers above Orlando, sir."
"Understood. Have my orders been relayed?"
"Absolutely, Mr. President."
"Colonel, if you please?" Moore took the helmet from the spec ops marine and dropped it in place over his head with a hiss, a swish, and a twist. The brain bucket locked into place, and cool fresh air filled with vapor stimulants flooded Alexander's face.
The colonel knocked three times on Moore's faceplate and held a thumbs-up. Moore relaxed and felt the suit come to life around him and then manipulated his armored hand, giving an armored thumbs- up.
"This is Mobile One, copy?" Moore said. His visor kicked on with a faint red and green glow, and a system readout zipped past his eyes. His DTM battleview flooded his mindview, and the menu icons floated out in front and to the side of him in his peripheral vision.
"Mobile One, copy that. We read you clear on wireless, lidar, and QMs," his AEM handlers at the USSOCOM pentagon Tactical Operations Center replied.
"Mobile One, hold tight for sensor update package."
"Roger that," Moore replied. Then he DTMed the open channel for the aircraft. "General, where are we?" He popped his visor up, causing a slight hissing sound from the overpressure air escaping.
"Sitting down now on I-4. Dean is standing there like an idiot waiting on us."
"Right." Moore brought up the weapons store list in his DTM. The HVAR on his back was fully loaded, and his armory pack was maxed with rounds, grenades, and his special surprise.
Abigail, you finished handshaking with my suit?
I own this suit, sir.
Thought as much. Tell me what I have.
It is state-of-the-art and brand new, as far as I can tell. The jumpboots will take you a little farther than your old one, but you should adjust quickly. If you want lidar or QMs, just tell me or you can do the DTM interface toggles yourself. There's more, but you'll be fine, sir.
Thanks, good girl. You do whatever has to be done if I ain't doin' it. Got it?
Got it, sir.
Chapter 16
October 31, 2388 AD
Tau Ceti Planet Four, Moon Alpha (aka Ares)
Near the Tau Ceti QMT Orbital Facility
Saturday, 7:28 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
Saturday, 3:28 AM, Madira Valley Standard Time
Kira wiggled her fingers and toes and could feel them still there. The throbbing in her face hadn't stopped sinc
e she had regained consciousness a minute or so earlier. She tried to open her eyes, and the light penetrated through them like needles. She squinted several times trying to regain her senses.
Where am I? Kira asked her AIC.
As best I can tell, we are on the Phlegra battle cruiser again, Allison answered.
How long have I been out?
About thirty minutes.
That's not enough time for them to bring me back to the Phlegra.
You're right. They didn't. We met it in orbit. We are somewhere in space now. Closer to the star, I think.
Where are we going?
My guess is back to Sol space.
But why?
That I don't know.
Any idea what blew my cover?
I'm thinking the bullet wound or some blood on the airplane ejection seat?
But they'd still need a DNA sample that you hadn't fudged with to compare it to.
Perhaps we trusted that Elise Tangier too much. She must have gotten one somehow. Maybe in one of her sexcapades she kept some of your fluids. Who knows?
I was sloppy?
Sounds like it.
Shit. We've got to get out of here.
Therein lies the dilemma.
Kira struggled against her bindings and then moved her head up enough to look at herself. She was naked and zip-tied with her arms out wide and her legs spread over stirrups of a gynecological exam bed with zip ties around each foot and one at each knee. She struggled against them but that only managed to dig them deeper into her skin, making them more uncomfortable.
This can't be good.
No, it's not. You've been examined in every way imaginable. I fear that the worst part has yet to happen.
Any ideas?
I'm scanning for something to hack into that will help, but so far, nothing but a centrifuge in the next room will talk to me. After we left earlier, they reset all the security protocols. I'm still hacking away, but it will take a while.
Keep at it.
"Comfortable, I see," a female voice said, following a hiss of the hatch sliding open. Kira struggled to get a better view. A slender woman in skintight camouflage pants, army boots, and a black, skintight, long-sleeve, armored pullover approached her. The black turtleneck led up into a ski mask of red, white, and blue stars and stripes and a long black ponytail of hair flowed up and out the back of it.
"General Ahmi," Kira said, trying not to look back at the woman in a way that would give away her fear. But Kira was terrified, and there was little way of hiding that.
"They call me Her Majesty now." Elle leaned in over her and slid a synthleather gloved hand down her cheek, to her neck, and then to her breasts. Elle lingered on Kira's nipples a bit and then dragged a finger sensually to her navel. Then instantly changing from sensual to angry, she slapped Kira across the face. The hit reawakened the pain from the rifle butt to the nose she had taken earlier, and her head rang like a bell with pain. She was most certainly lightly concussed, if not worse. Kira fought back at the pain and the stars surrounding her vision.
"Her Majesty, we are coming up on the facility in five minutes," someone out of Kira's field of view said.
"Good, Scotty. That gives us time to figure out what our young friend here was doing on my ship." Elle slapped Kira again and then seemed to lose her temper. As if something had snapped in the terrorist's mind, the slap acted like a final snowflake that triggered an avalanche of violence. Ahmi commenced to beating Kira in the face with her fists and cursing at her. The leather in the maniac's glove cut into Kira's nose, ears, and chin and left her face battered and bloodied. Kira was afraid that she would lose consciousness if the beating lasted much longer.
A few seconds of the crazed frenzy, and Ahmi stopped at the edge of Kira's limitations. The terrorist must have been a pro at torture, for she knew just when to stop before she rendered Kira useless. There was a splatter of blood on Ahmi's leather gloves that she licked away with almost sexual excitement. A doctor, or what Kira assumed was a doctor, entered the room beside Ahmi. He leaned over Kira and checked her vitals with a scanner and then held some sort of wireless sensor over her head.
"She has an AIC," the doctor said.
Allison?
Don't worry, we're good.
Oh God, we are so fucked!
Stay calm. Don't stop thinking. There has to be a way out of this. In the meantime, put your mind somewhere else. Let's keep going through the data we got today. Maybe something there will buy us some time.
Good idea.
Kira did her best to ignore the doctor's pokes and prods and Ahmi's nonstop questioning followed by more violent frenzies. The Scotty fellow stayed quiet mostly and only interjected here and there.
"What were you doing on my ship?" Ahmi asked again, and slapped her across the face another time.
"She's not talking, Scotty. Suggestions?"
"It can't be a coincidence? Can it?" Scotty said. He leaned against the bulkhead and put his hands in his pockets. "We haven't seen a spy in years, and now, on the day of one of our best moves, she shows up."
"She's been here all along according to the Tangier records. Remind me to tax the hell out of Elise when we get back. Somebody should hang for this. Literally." Ahmi pounded her fist against her open palm, causing the leather to slap together loudly.
What about today? Allison?
Well, the Phlegra is scheduled for a trip back to Sol, right?
Yes, so? Apparently, ships go back and forth to that Oort Cloud base all the time.
Remember the manifest? Nothing goes to this ship after today.
Hey . . .
"What tho thpecial bout today," Kira managed through swollen busted lips. She licked at them and swallowed blood.
"Ha ha, the nerve," Ahmi turned back to her. "I'm the one asking questions here."
"Since you have to kill her anyway . . ." Scotty shrugged.
"Today, we are going to fix an election." Ahmi stood straight and looked deeper into Kira's swollen eyes. "So that is why you have to tell us what you know and who you have told."
An election?
Presidential election is Tuesday, Allison answered.
Why?
Who knows, she's crazy as a fucking fruit bat.
Wait, how would they fix an election? Kira had studied Ahmi for years now. She never did anything haphazard. This would be a well- managed and thought-out scheme. How would we fix the presidential election?
Let me think. It looks tight. President Moore is likely to lose if he doesn't take Florida and Luna City. The Democrat nominee Senator Webb might even win the popular vote, but without the electoral votes from the Moon, she can't win.
So that's it! The Moon is the common factor for both candidates. She's gonna do something to Luna City.
Like what?
I dunno, what is her standard MO?
Well, during the Desert Campaigns, she had kamikaze AI-driven fighters fly into the front lines until the AEMs were toast.
Yes! And during the Exodus, she used the kamikaze ships in several different cases. Kira had a good idea what was going on and how Ahmi planned to do what she was going to do. But even if they got to Sol space in the Oort Cloud, that is still months at top hyperspace speeds to Earth space.
Use that. Keep her talking.
Right.
"Ha, ha, ha . . ." Kira broke into laughter as best she could. "You're gonna fix the election? Luna City. You're going to crash this ship into Luna City."
"What?" Scotty laughed and looked surprised. "You're about four hundred thousand kilometers off."
Ahmi looked back and forth between the two of them. Kira noted that there was a hint of surprise from her body language. She wished she could see her face through that damned mask.
"Florida? No way. Its not important enough," Kira managed through her fat lips. "Florida won't win it for either candidate."
"Oh, you just wait and see." Scotty again laughed, a bit too cocksure of himself.
; Allison. Could Florida win it for either one?
Well, there is the slimmest chance, but . . .
Ahmi doesn't take chances like that.
That is what I was thinking.
HE DOESN'T KNOW!
You must be right. Use it!
"He doesn't know, does he?" Kira laughed, not breaking her eyes from Ahmi. "Go on, tell him the whole thing. Florida is just a diversion, isn't it?"
"What is she talking about, Elle?" Scotty took his hands from his pockets and walked closer, looking directly at Ahmi with anger in his face. There was obviously some history between the two of them, and this topic must have been a sore one.
"Not now, Scotty." Ahmi waved him off. "So you have figured it out, have you?" Ahmi caressed Kira playfully. Kira was most certain that the general was off her rocker.
"Well, what I can't seem to figure out is how you plan to get this ship from the Oort Cloud to the Moon so quickly." Kira lay still, trying to look calm and trying with all her might not to react to Ahmi's touch. Each one made her skin crawl and not in a good way.
"Ah, so you don't know everything. That is good." Elle turned to the doctor. "Take the AIC."
"Yes, ma'am," the doctor nodded.
"Wait! What do you want to know?" Kira attempted to stall further.
"Nothing more from you. Without access to the QMT, you haven't been able to contact Earth. My guess is that you are completely isolated and have yet to manage a message to home. Good try, though."
The doctor held a glass tube up to the side of Kira's head just behind her right earlobe. The tube sealed off with a vacuum hiss against her skin, drawing blood to the surface it attached so harshly. A spring-loaded metal tube within the glass tube crunched through Kira's skull and extracted the bone. Kira screamed in pain and blood poured red into the tube. A little metallic finger snaked itself into the hole in the side of her head and pulled out a small gray object shaped like a sunflower seed.
The Tau Ceti Agenda s-2 Page 20