by K. D. Mattis
“And?”
“The Chinese commander says that he launched a volley of missiles to the near-Earth object. Based on what they’re saying, the missiles are stronger than anything we have onboard the Explorer or Ambassador Station.”
Asher’s eyes went wide. “They were holding out on us?”
“It seems so.”
“Good. We’ll worry about it later. Right now, we just need to make sure the payload reaches its destination.”
Holt read off his console. “It looks like the Stalingrad took care of the small ships, but they’re not having any luck against the transmission device.”
On the main console, Asher watched as the two remaining alien vessels raced to the near-Earth object. The Explorer gained ground on them, but its damaged thrusters kept it from going as fast as before.
“Tactical, target the engines of the ship on the right. Get them to break off course if we can,” Asher ordered. “Use the high yield torpedoes. That ought to get them mad again.”
Two torpedoes shot out of the front of the Explorer. They found their mark and tore a massive hole in the side of the alien ship, but it didn’t even flinch.
“Again.”
Two more torpedoes shot out, each landing within the giant hole of the alien vessel. The brief eruption of flame destroyed nearly half the ship, but it kept moving forward.
Ensign Tran put his finger up to his console as he traced the path of a series of moving objects. “Sir, it looks like the lunar colony’s gifts are coming earlier than expected.”
The camera on the front monitors switched over so they could watch a series of twelve missiles streak by. Tiny jets of flame corrected them along their course. They passed by the alien ships, and the aliens fired their bright beams. The beams took out several of the missiles, but most pounded the central rod of the near-Earth object.
Asher twisted back toward her scanning team, waiting for a response. They worked diligently at their stations without looking up.
“Well?” Asher asked.
One of the men shook his head. “It caused a brief interruption of the signal, but it’s back up and gaining strength.”
Letting her jaw hang loose, Asher fumbled for words. She just couldn’t find any that could effectively convey the gravity of her concern. Noticing the eyes around the room focusing on her, the admiral stood straight, brushed down the front of her uniform, and studied the screens in front of her, hoping to see some sign of weakness in the alien transmitter.
“Sir,” Holt said, “the alien craft are slowing down and turning toward us.”
“Why?” Asher asked to no one in particular.
She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. As the alien craft twisted in place, they revealed their weapon arrays, fully prepared to fire.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Asher shouted.
Twelve beams of light shot toward the Explorer, and Gonzales did her best to twist them out of the way. Several shots hit the ship hard and left a gaping hole in its underbelly.
“Take them out!”
The tactical team worked quickly to obey. While the Explorer fired at the ship on the left, a door opened on the top of the ship and released six drones into the exchange.
Each one of the drones moved fearlessly around the beams of light that shot toward them. They dodged each shot with ease and responded with their own attack. The damage to the alien craft was minimal, but it served as a reasonable distraction.
A larger craft zoomed past the brawl. As it passed the most damaged alien ship, it fired off several torpedoes. The resulting explosions tore the alien craft into several smaller chunks without enough power to run its self-destruct sequence.
Turning to the comm., Asher asked, “Was that the Guardian?”
“Yes, sir. Commander Cole is requesting orders.”
Six more beams of light ripped into the Explorer. The vacuum of space extinguished flames before they could spread while also drawing hard-working men and women into its cold embrace. The weapons on the alien ship lit up, ready to fire again.
Drawing a deep breath, Asher said, “Tell Cole to break off from his engagement and go after the transmitter.”
Lieutenant Card paused. She pressed on the button to send a message, but hesitated.
Holt threw up his hands in defeat. “Sir, we can’t. We don’t have enough firepower left to take this ship out. If the Guardian goes, we won’t make it out of here.”
“Understood,” Asher said. “Lieutenant Card, give the order. They’re to take out the transmitter at all cost.”
She offered her commanding officer a solemn nod and pressed the button.
Asher forced a weak smile. “Thank you. Would you give me a direct line to all friendly ships?”
After entering a few commands into her console, Card said, “It’s ready, sir.”
Reaching down, Asher picked up a microphone from beside her chair. She spoke slowly, carefully articulating every word. “This is Admiral Asher of the US Space Corps. All ships are ordered to engage the alien transmitter. You are to take it out at all costs, as quickly as possible.”
When she finished her brief speech, Asher reached down, disengaged the magnets on her boots, and pushed off her chair to float next to Ensign Gonzales.
“Keep us moving as long as you can. Keep that monster distracted as long as possible,” Asher said.
The pilot didn’t respond. Her eyes remained focused on the screens in front of her. Her hands moved deftly across the keys. Every tiny movement, every tiny mistake, was felt by everyone on the ship. Her copilot watched on, afraid that any attempt to help may result in a fatal error.
“Sir,” Card shouted, standing at her station, her magnetic boots snapping to the floor, “it’s the Protector.”
Lieutenant Commander Kim pressed the button again. “I’m sure. Have everyone fall back to assist the Explorer. I know how to end this.”
With sweaty palms, the lieutenant commander ordered all of his crew to join him near the breach in the hull. They all obeyed, exchanging glances as they moved.
“Look, I’m sorry we don’t have a proper escape pod or anything like that,” Kim said, “but I need all of you to trust me. I need any remaining power available to me, so we can’t use the airlock. Doesn’t seem like there’s much point, anyway.”
Kim moved among his crew without looking any of them in the eye. He reached down and picked up the arm of each person and had them interlock. After two people joined, the rest locked together without further prompting. Kim then knelt and turned off each person’s magnetic boots, leaving them to drift softly off of the floor. Together, the group moved toward the gash in the hull and drifted out.
“Sir,” said the last man, “it’s been an honor. Good luck.”
Kim shoved the group out the gash with all the strength he could muster. “Go. Don’t forget to turn on your beacons. Help will come soon.”
Kim watched his crew drift into space. When they were far enough away, he hurried down a ladder and through a narrow passageway. Time slowed for the man as his boots made every step difficult. He knew that the longer he took, more people on Earth would die.
Finally in the weapons bay, Kim set to work. He removed a screwdriver from a toolbox bolted to the wall and ripped open the control panel of every torpedo in the room, setting each to detonate on impact. The live weapons sent a chill down his spine. If he failed, he wouldn’t get a second chance. With the torpedoes armed, he hurried back to the bridge.
He sat down, secured his harness, and took a deep breath before plotting his course. He checked and double-checked his path to ensure that there would be no mistakes. Then he pulled back on the throttle, sending the ship racing forward.
Several seconds into the acceleration, red warning banners popped up on the console telling the man to slow down. He cleared them by entering his password and allowed the ship to accelerate well past safe speeds.
For a moment, Kim looked out the small window at the side of the room.
Stars stood still in the distance. If he didn’t see the numbers on the screen, the man wouldn’t have guessed he was moving at all.
The near-Earth object grew close. A few seconds after it became visible, Kim could make out the faint blue lights of the central rod of the transmitter. As it grew large, the man closed his eyes.
“He did it,” Asher whispered.
The explosion on the screen faded, and Asher whipped her head back to the diagnostics team.
“He did it, sir. The signal is no longer transmitting.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, Asher turned and returned to her chair.
“The alien ship is withdrawing,” Gonzales said. “Do you want me to follow?”
With a shake of her head, Asher said, “No. Holt, can you make one of the drones land on its hull?”
The tactical officer smiled and entered a few commands into his console. A moment later, he said, “It’s done. It should transmit the alien craft’s location until they manage to destroy it.”
“Good. Card, tell the Stalingrad that it’s welcome to dock at Ambassador Station for repairs and tell the Guardian to pick up Lieutenant Commander Kim’s crew. When they’re done, I need them to set up a general patrol pattern.” Turning, Asher said, “Gonzales, take us home.”
20
The Admiral sat in her chair with her eyes focused intently on the pattern of the floor. Despite the uniform color, she couldn’t pull her attention away. The stack of papers on the table beside her should have been her focus, but in that moment, she didn’t care to look through them.
A few moments later, the door burst open and the president entered the room. Asher jumped up and offered a salute but had to force her eyes to meet those of the man before her. With a nod, he put her at ease and pulled out a chair. He plopped down and flipped through the edges of the papers on the table but didn’t examine any of them.
“So,” the president said, “it’s over?”
“For now,” Asher said weakly.
“The Chinese didn’t tell us about their long-range missile capability. We knew about the missile silos, of course, but we didn’t know they had that kind of accuracy at that kind of range.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” the president asked.
Asher shook her head. “I wish we knew what they were capable of, but frankly, they helped when we needed it. We can’t ask for more than that. I’m just tired of the games. So long as we’re all on the same side, I just don’t care anymore. We have a job that’s bigger than any one of us, so I’ll take any help I can get.”
Pushing back in the chair, the president kicked his feet up on the table and covered his eyes with one of his arms.
“Something on your mind, sir?” Asher asked.
For a moment, the man kept silent. Finally, he said, “Always. I’m glad you were successful in taking out that transmitter. No matter what, please don’t misunderstand me on that point. I’m glad that you averted what could have been a much worse situation. Still, what a pickle.”
“Sir?”
“We’ve got fugitive aliens in human hosts running around freely that we didn’t know about until they came forward to tell us that we’re all going to die. We’ve got a badly crippled fleet, we’ve got more than twenty million dead bodies, and we’ve got billions upon billions of dollars in damage across the globe. I don’t know; it might even be trillions of dollars of damage. I don’t guess the actual number matters that much. The point is, we know we’re fighting for our survival here.”
Asher offered a weak nod but kept silent.
“Well?” the president asked.
“Well, what, sir?”
“What do we do?”
Asher sat rigidly. “The same thing we’ve done for the last couple of years.”
Leaning forward, the president laughed and clapped his hands together. “Go figure, the one time I ask you exactly what you need, you don’t have an answer.” He stood and paced in front of the admiral. “The entire world has seen outright devastation. There’s no longer a question of whether you were right or wrong. No one even cares about that old debate anymore. Everyone, every single person on the planet, has been affected by this situation. Everyone wants revenge, and they want to destroy whatever or whomever hurt us this badly. Twenty million people died so that you can finally tell us what you need. Everyone will listen.”
“Honestly?” Asher asked.
“Yes. Whatever it is, you’ll have it.”
“Good,” Asher whispered. Standing, she pointed to the stack of papers on the table. “We have the name of our enemy, and soon enough, we’ll know where they’re hiding. The upgrades worked well. That’s a good start, but we need a fleet. This handful of ships we’ve been taking with us won’t cut it any longer.”
“I’m listening.”
Gaining conviction in her words as she spoke, the admiral continued. “To get the fleet, we need the space elevator completed, and we need the full commitment of every country involved in the Earth Defense Initiative. There’s only one way for us to get all that.”
“Name it.”
“I need a formal declaration of war.”
The president thrust his hand forward. “Then you’ll have it.”
A cold gust of wind bit at Asher’s face. She winced but continued walking. Her old neighborhood felt so familiar. Her goal, on the other hand, did not. She couldn’t help but keep on her guard.
The steps took their toll on the woman. To any outsiders, she walked carelessly down the street. Internally, she winced every single time her knees felt the weight of her body shifting from one foot to the other. She didn’t have time for weakness, and she couldn’t risk showing any to her target.
After nearly three hours of walking mindlessly around her town, Asher finally felt him. The haunting presence of a stranger watching her consumed her, and the woman picked up the pace. Sure enough, the presence grew stronger and closer until she heard footsteps. They were barely discernable over the intermittent noise of traffic, but they didn’t go away.
Exhausted, Asher turned down a street and continued to a large, public park. Children ran around like normal, blissfully unaware of the concerns plaguing the admiral’s mind. Finding an empty bench, she sat down, stretched out her legs, and placed her hands on her lap. A man joined her only a few moments later.
“You didn’t have to walk for so long,” he said. “It would have saved us both some time.”
Asher glanced over at the man. “How do you always seem to know where I am?”
The man smiled and crossed his legs. He looked out at everyone playing at the park and his expression twisted in disgust. “They really have no idea what they avoided, do they?”
The admiral shrugged.
“No matter,” the man continued. “I have to say, your officer, the one that destroyed the Culdarian weapon, was pretty clever. Clever, but stupid.”
Grunting, Asher looked up at the sky. “Why?”
“Well, turning his ship into a kinetic weapon was a stroke of genius. With the weight of the engines and everything else, it had more destructive power than your missiles and torpedoes by themselves. So, bravo to him for figuring that out. Still, I wonder why he didn’t simply set an autopilot and escape with the rest of his crew?”
“How do you know about that?” Asher snapped.
With a smug grin, the man clasped his hands together and placed them under his jaw. “As I said before, you and I have a lot to discuss.”
“Have we earned it yet?”
The man nodded. “Yes, I believe you have.”
21
The group of armed guards walked in columns both in front of and behind Commander Gibbs and his guest. The guest walked without restraints, but everyone focused their full attention on his every movement.
Deep in the underground facility, the group moved to a rather barren room. Thick bundles of cables ran to a single pedestal in its center. The group approached, and the s
oldiers fanned out while Gibbs and his guest stepped up to the pedestal.
“Do you know what this is?” Gibbs asked.
The guest looked through the glass covering the top of the pedestal and saw green dust collected in a neat pile on a tray. Small prongs stuck out of the dust, connected to the wide assortment of cables.
“I do,” said the man.
“And?”
“It’s a Symbiant. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Yes. You’re missing the point. Why did it turn to dust when we removed it from our corpsman?”
“When did it happen?”
“As soon as they started the surgery.”
“I see.”
Shifting his feet, Gibbs spoke in a harsh tone. “The one in Harris didn’t do that. Why?”
“Because it’s different.”
“Yeah, thanks. We got that already. Why is it different?”
The guest smiled and placed a hand on the commander’s shoulder. The guards raised their guns. The guest noticed immediately and lifted his hands in the air, offered a smile, and slowly lowered his hands back to his sides.
“Commander, the Culdarians have manipulated my species for so long. I don’t know all that they’ve done. The Culdarians would rather kill themselves than face defeat. You’ve seen this, yes?”
The commander nodded.
“Then I think it’s a reasonable assumption that they manipulated this Symbiant in a similar fashion. How or why doesn’t matter. If this is simply an intellectual exercise, then I’d advise you that your focus would be better utilized elsewhere.”
“Look,” Gibbs said as he shifted his weight again, “I was told to ask. You don’t have to get smart with me. Just saying that you don’t know would have been enough.”
The group continued walking through heavy doors until they moved to a large lobby with countless men and women rushing about. Despite the chaos, everyone moved in a coordinated fashion. Even with the guards walking through the middle of the lobby, the men and woman made a simple adjustment to their paths and carried on watching their tablets as they moved, too focused on their tasks to allow any interruption.