by Ian Miller
"A pity," Elizabeth shrugged, as she got up to leave, "because the crime may have been committed on Mars, but it was ordered from Earth."
"Who?" This was a harsh, cold question; the pretence was dropped.
"Let me speculate," Elizabeth said smoothly. "We know MinCorp equipment was used at the Charitum Tholus. I'm sure your defence would start by asserting it was stolen, but it's difficult to get stolen mining equipment to Mars."
"I would assert it is equally difficult to get MinCorp equipment to Mars."
"A point," Elizabeth conceded, "and to be honest, we don't actually have a clear idea who the miners were. But we know who ordered their execution."
"What do you want from me?" Reiner mused. She knew he was not looking at her, but this was rather because his brain was working overtime to try to work out what he should do next.
"Let me say that I want to do my job and bring the villains to justice, let me say that the orders for the executions were transmitted from a GenCorp facility, and let me also say that at the end of all this, I don't want Kotchetkova to be in a position to form a military dictatorship."
"And you want my help?"
"You look like the sort of person who can get things done."
"You're damn right I can, but why do I get involved in all this?"
"If you didn't have any miners at the Charitum Tholus, I can't think of a single good reason. Good afternoon, Mr Reiner."
When she left, she was certain she had lit a fuse. Who the bomb would hurt was anyone's guess.
Chapter 12
"Natasha, thanks for coming. I have a surprise for you, but first, a little gift," Gaius said, as he pushed a small package towards Natasha. He sat back, and sipped his coffee. They were seated at a small table in a rather exclusive cafeteria. The cafeteria itself was unusual in that it was privately run, the only privately run business in the Defence complex. Marisa had a small shareholding, and it was through her that the management had acquired the most exclusive Brazilian coffees.
Natasha opened the package and saw a large brooch, solid gold, with a huge red gem glowing fire in the centre, and five gigantic pearls set around it. "It's magnificent," Natasha said in an almost awed tone, and looked up from its deep fire.
"The brooch is a sort of family heirloom," Gaius explained. "It came into the family's hands at the time of Pompey, and was part of the booty from his campaigns in the east. I gather these old things are considered valuable now."
"Valuable!" Natasha cried out in surprise. "This is priceless. Not that I'll ever let it out of my hands."
"I should say not," came a voice from behind. Natasha turned, to see a beautiful dark-haired woman approach Gaius, and give him a kiss.
"Welcome home!" Gaius exclaimed, as he got to his feet. He wrapped his arms about her in a massive hug. "And good to see you've ventured down here. What do you think?"
"It's different," came the wistful reply.
"In some ways it's another planet," Gaius shrugged. "Have you seen the old estate?"
"I've been to the site," came the reply, "but Gaius, you should introduce me."
"Of course! How rude!" Gaius said, looking apologetically towards Natasha. "Claudia Lucilla, meet Natasha Kotchetkova. Natasha's the Defence Commissioner I told you about."
"I think I could have guessed," Lucilla bowed.
"Claudia?" Natasha mumbled to Lucilla in an embarrassed way, as she looked firstly at the brooch, then back to Lucilla. "I hope you don't mind about . . . No! That's silly. If this is yours . . ."
"It's yours," Gaius smiled easily.
"Gaius," Lucilla shook her head sadly, "please go and get me a cup of whatever that is."
"It's called coffee," Gaius said, as he turned to go. He turned towards Natasha and asked whether she would like another. When she nodded, he turned and walked over to the counter.
"Natasha. I can call you that, can't I?" Lucilla asked, then, without waiting for an answer, she continued, "If you're wondering about me, Gaius forgot to mention I'm his sister."
"Oh! I'm pleased to meet you." She paused, then added, with a weak smile, "Somehow that seems a foolish thing to say."
"Don't apologize," Lucilla smiled, and took Natasha's hand. "The giving of vital information like that isn't one of Gaius' strong points. It never was, and he doesn't seem to be improving. You'd think in a couple of thousand years he would have learned."
"I thought he missed most of those years?"
"Yes, that's true, but it's not much of an excuse. For all the adventures he's had, he could have still become a bit more thoughtful. You love him a little, don't you?" Lucilla asked, suddenly changing her tone.
"What? Well, I . . ."
"I'm pleased," Lucilla smiled, and put her hand on Natasha's. "He's coming back. If you choose him I shall be very pleased. But no more; he's here now."
"What are you two plotting?" Gaius said, as he handed Lucilla one of the coffees. Lucilla accepted the mug with a smile, but made no comment. Gaius watched her raise her cup to her lips. "What do you think of it?" he asked, as she took the first sip.
"By the Gods, it's strong!" Lucilla said, giving a little shudder.
"It grows on you, though," Gaius said. "Now, any news?" He passed Natasha a mug, and took a sip from the third.
"My ship made a long range communication with Ranh as instructed from Ulse, and I was not awoken once it was clear the M'starn did not go there. My ship did not step down from relativistic speed, but continued directly here," she explained to Natasha. "The Ranhyn Space Ministry had detected the M'starn fleet heading towards Earth. The Romulus has now received their reply to the request."
"Are they sending help?" Gaius asked.
"Up to a point," Lucilla said, evasively.
"Up to what point?"
"Three mid-space one-one-three class interceptors are on their way. They should arrive in a week or so."
"But they're only antipiracy ships," Gaius protested. "And only three?"
"They say they fear another fleet may attack them," Lucilla explained. "But for the Ulsian command, I doubt they'd have sent anything at all."
"Ulse gave them a clear message, which is undeniable in accuracy. They are simply refusing to help us, and refusing to honour their obligations."
"They say there could be a separate attack, such as a flanking move," Lucilla explained, in a tone that showed quite clearly she did not believe what she had said.
"Some flanking move!" Gaius snorted. "Some strategy! Who embarks on a flanking move that takes at least three millennia to execute?"
"Perhaps they want to see what their nearest neighbour's made of?" Lucilla offered.
"Perhaps, but whatever the reason, we shall just have to accept there'll be no help from that quarter."
"Better three ships than none," Natasha said, trying to be cheerful. "It more than doubles our fleet power."
"Unfortunately, it does not," Gaius smiled wanly at her. "These ships are lightly armed and have only moderate shielding. They're used for law enforcement, where the opposition's usually lightly armed. Against a full battle fleet, they may be more of a liability because we shall have to protect them. Their only good feature is that they're fast."
"Their armaments and shielding can be upgraded," Lucilla pointed out. "I believe they're bringing some of the necessary parts."
"As Natasha says, they must be of some value," Gaius said, as he shook his head. "I suppose it's my task to work out what that can be."
"Of course," Lucilla smiled, "Natasha was also correct in another way, although it may take Gaius some time to acknowledge it. Your fleet power has doubled over the last week, because now you have two main line Ulsian battleships. Of course it would be too much to expect big brother to acknowledge my help, but –"
"Lucilla, my dearest, you are doubly welcome if you came with no ship. And you are certainly correct. Your ship is indeed most valuable, and Natasha, in Lucilla you will see a most capable pilot and a brilliant tactician. Truly, a great Cl
audian, and one who exemplifies all that was great in Roman womanhood."
Lucilla was shaking her head, and she laid her hand on Natasha's arm. "The trouble with Gaius, and most similar men of his time, was their devotion to rhetoric. Ignore any speech that includes the word 'truly', or any similar word, for what follows is meaningless."
"Truly, Lucilla speaks wisdom," Gaius grinned.
"With one or two exceptions that prove the rule," Lucilla remarked. "But take no notice of this banter, Natasha. I am pleased to be back on this planet, even though I hardly recognize it, and we shall help rid you of these scourges."
"And I meant what I said when I said how welcome Lucilla was," Gaius said earnestly. "It's not much fun being the only one of a kind, particularly, as Lucilla will acknowledge, since some Claudians were not exactly admirable. In some ways, being an alien amongst your own species is the cruellest fate of all."
"Gaius! Lucilla!" Natasha said, grasping a hand from each of them. "I suppose nobody's even stopped to think of your problems, but welcome home. Please don't think of yourselves as aliens. I've got to apologize, but seeing your super technology I forgot that you might need help. Please, if I can do anything for you, just ask."
"Thank you," Gaius nodded. "For now, we need nothing. Later, who knows? One thing I do know, though, is that when all this's over, we'll want to be able to come down to Earth. Ulsian space ships are really marvels of technology, but nothing takes the place of living in a society."
"That will be the very least we can do," Natasha smiled warmly.
Chapter 13
"Commissioner! There's a message from Mars. Live! Where do you want the recording to play?"
"Put it through here," Natasha said, as she shook her head at the thought of a live recording, "and send for Gaius Claudius and Claudia Lucilla."
The message was simple. Haruhiko Takado had been leading a small reconnaissance party around the northeast of Hellas Planitia when he had intercepted a small land cruiser heading down the Harmakhis Vallis towards Hellas. Inside was one Enrico Baromei, who said he fled from the Syrtis Major camp when he thought he would be sent to Miranda. He headed east to the Isidis Planitia, then down through the Hesperia Planum to the west of the Tyrrhena Patera, then southwest along the reasonably flat stretch to the Harmakhis Vallis.
"Show me a map." Gaius took the map that was offered, and studied it. "Given the importance of Hellas," Gaius mused, "this Tyrrhena Patera would seem to be of strategic importance. I think you should plan to set up a military base there."
"I'll see to the planning," Natasha said, and made a note in her book.
"So Enrico thought he was going to be drafted?" Gaius continued. "How?"
"That's the interesting bit," Natasha replied. "Apparently the M'starn are going to bring in a large battle cruiser to ship out minerals. It will depart in fourteen days time."
"So they need minerals that badly," Gaius muttered, "or they're very confident, and have rebuilt their fleet. Which is it?"
"They need minerals," Natasha replied firmly.
"Why are you so certain?"
"Because if they have rebuilt their fleet, they wouldn't waste time collecting rocks. Time is not their ally."
"Natasha's right," Lucilla agreed. "If the war can be turned into a battle of economies, the M'starn lose. Once they have their ships repaired, they use them or leave."
"Suppose it's a trap," Gaius mused. "Suppose the story's bait to lure us in?"
"The messenger's too unreliable," Natasha shrugged. "I realize they could hardly announce the ship's arrival on Comscreen, but there's no reason to believe this Italian would be captured, and if he just turned up, nobody would take any notice of him. You don't set a trap without making the bait visible."
"I guess we have to go with that theory," Gaius nodded. "So let's plan a small surprise for them."
"And what about our Italian? Lieutenant Takado needs instructions."
"Tell him he must return to Syrtis Major. Under no circumstances must he divulge that we know about the minerals shipment. Tell him we'll get the settlers to raid the place when the ship's there, and if he helps, the slate's clean."
"He'll betray the settlers," Natasha warned, in a disapproving tone.
"I know," Gaius said quietly. "That's what I'm counting on."
* * *
To the south of the crater there was a large flat expanse of the intensely dark red sand and shingle of Syrtis Major, pock-marked with the occasional tiny crater-like depression where meteorites had fallen over the course of time. Two tiny rounded hills protruded through the wasteland, and to the right a large wedge-shaped grey rock offered a surprising contrast. In the distance to the south were low-lying rounded hills, well worn through billions of years of sandblasting. To the southwest, a small pass could barely be detected in the hills. The sky was salmon pink, although several white cirrus-like clouds offered a sharp contrast.
Behind this flat expanse, the domed settlement was built snugly against the southern outside wall of the crater. Within the dome the settlement consisted of some very simply built iron sheds, while a number of vehicles were scattered around in no particular order. But the main contrast lay to the south east of the settlement. There, like a giant beached whale was the M'starn battle cruiser, lying shakily on a series of supports that held it above the ground. The ground to its rear had been scoured deeply by the ship when landing, and this erosion of the ground had contributed to a lack of stability from the supports; there had been a slight collapse and the ship was listing slightly to the port side. The ship pointed southeast, across what appeared to be almost level plains, but in reality where the ground slowly fell away, eventually to cease falling four kilometers below in the Isidis Planitia, two hundred and fifty kilometers away. When the battle cruiser was to take off, it would take advantage of most of that almost imperceptible depression before it could redirect its power by dropping the rear of the craft to get the necessary vertical thrust. The art of take-off was to avoid hitting hills on the way; apart from the use of the small thrusters beneath the craft, that was achieved mainly by the alignment of the ground supports since it was too dangerous to try to realign the ship until downwards force could be obtained. The M'starn commander either needed those minerals very badly, or he had incredible faith in the ground team.
But while the space vehicle appeared to be in a somewhat precarious position, there was no suggestion of panic. An orderly line of men in pressure suits were carrying large crates from a shed through the air lock and loading them in the battle cruiser. Each crate needed six men, three in front, three behind. The scene was one of simple efficiency.
Then, to the south, a small cloud of dust could be seen rising from the pass. This cloud moved like an arrow across the wasteland, heading directly to the dome. Two tanks, and a number of scout cars could be identified. The attacking force had got about one third of the way across the plain, and was beginning to fire weapons from the tanks, when suddenly ten tanks emerged from behind the dome, and sped towards the oncoming vehicles, their weapons similarly spitting fire. The attacking force suddenly stopped, and, seeing itself to be outnumbered, turned to retreat, the tanks retreating at full speed but firing at the oncoming tanks, while the scout cars sped across the scene, raising great clouds of dust to cover the retreat. The great battle cruiser began to vibrate slightly, as its giant weapons began to align themselves on the rather puny force. From the shed, the last crate emerged, carried by four people, three at the front and one at the rear. These people began to run quickly towards the battle cruiser.
At first some of the M'starn crew clearly thought this attack was something of a joke, but suddenly, behind them, there was a flash and a huge cloud of sand flew into the air. A shower of shingle knocked one of the M'starn off his feet, never to rise again as the side of his pressure suit was shredded. A second flash and a cloud of stones erupted, this time closer to the front of the M'starn vessel. Suddenly the danger was recognized. From the crater behind
and above them, a mortar attack had been launched. Mortars would not normally affect such a vehicle; a direct hit would merely tickle the armour, but the mortars could demolish the supports below the ship, and if the front of the ship fell by only four degrees, it would never leave Mars. At four degrees lower, the vertical thrusters in the front of the ship could not lift the nose sufficiently to prevent the ship crashing into the Isidis Planitia, with a greater fall of the nose, the ship would never clear the small shingle-covered hills seven kilometers to the east. The ship had had to land horizontally; as it was, an access way had had to be constructed to allow loading, and for every degree of elevation of the nose above horizontal, the time taken to build it could be squared.
The last crate entered the ship, and the hatch was closed. These workers were to have an enforced trip to Miranda, if they could survive the launch. The ship vibrated as the great motors ignited. Suddenly there was another vibration, and the ship lurched even further to the port, as one of the supports sustained a near miss, but still collapsed a little as the ground subsided beneath it. Then the ship shuddered, then began to move slightly, then lurched forward, sending an immense cloud of dust and shingle into the Martian atmosphere as the fusion motors took their hold. All thrusters with an upward vector were firing fully, although the starboard upward thrusters had to be stepped back slightly to allow the ship to right itself. Seconds passed, and finally the pilot took the step of turning down the rear vertical thrusters to allow the rear to fall slightly. A huge scar was burnt into the side of the Martian plains as the ship skimmed across the ground, barely fifty metres above the highest hillocks. Then, when the ship had travelled nearly three hundred kilometers, the rear was dropped further, and the giant craft began to gain altitude, slowly at first, then with extraordinary rapidity.
On Syrtis Major, the settlers squad reached the pass, and as they reached it, the Brownshirt tanks emerged from the dust screen, two kilometers short of the pass. They turned, and drove straight for the pass, but suddenly more dust erupted in front of them. From the hills, another mortar attack was being launched. They stopped to face the new threat, but they could not detect the origin of the mortars. Then one of the tanks sustained a direct hit, and it rose then fell on its side, the bodies inside twitching as the blood boiled away through the cuts in the pressure suits. A second mortar shell hit another tank, and this was too much. The eight remaining tanks regrouped, and began fleeing, but not before yet another tank sustained damage.