Genesis

by Lawrence P White

  Grayson and Ollie left immediately. Ollie winked at Emily as he passed her.

  “Did what I think happened here just happen?” Dave asked.

  “It did,” Greg answered thoughtfully. “Surprisingly, we have not yet needed to put all our trust in any one Harbok. I’m sorry I even hesitated. I would trust him with my life.”

  Colonel Hagen spoke. “With your life, maybe, but with everyone’s lives? I, too, would have hesitated. Not very long ago we were enemies. To place so much responsibility in your old enemy means you have truly accomplished remarkable things.”

  “I have never been an enemy of the Harbok,” Greg answered, “but that’s a conversation for another time. I should tell you that I didn’t need to send Ollie. We have over a hundred ships in this system, all of them cloaked. I could have sent one of them. Let’s go back to bed.”

  “Wait a minute,” Dave demanded. “You have a hundred ships here?”

  “I promised you we would not leave Earth defenseless, and we haven’t.”

  Dave turned to Jackie. “Is the coffee ready? I’m not going back to bed yet.” To Arlynn, he said, “What’s this about Emily flying spaceships between the stars? That’s impossible. Please tell me I misunderstood.”

  “Oh, Dad, just wait,” Emily said brightly. “We’re going home on a prime ship. Captain Ivanov lets me fly when I have the time.”

  Dave blinked. “You have a Russian captain?”

  Greg corrected him. “No, we have a Terran captain who is also a citizen of the Alliance.”

  Dave’s lips firmed. He accepted the rebuke, but he did not let it lie there. “Can you get him down here? It might go a long way in convincing others that you really don’t care about nationality.”

  “I can do better than that,” Greg responded. “I’ll take people, if they’re willing to go into space, up to him.”

  A little later, Emily pulled her father aside and said with a glimmer in her eyes, “It sounds like you want to go up to the prime ship. Do you want to go badly enough to go as my passenger?”

  * * * * *

  Grayson’s goal was another 500 men. He got a thousand, including his old acquaintances, retired General Shoemaker, who had been the president’s National Security Advisor during the first meeting with Greg, and Admiral Max Henderson, now retired from his position as Chief of Naval Operations.

  Greg was concerned that individuals of such high rank might not be the best front-line soldiers and sailors.

  Grayson disagreed. “I’ve known both of these guys for years. They got where they are because they were great front-line soldiers, but they’re much more than that. They’ll get a new lease on life, they’ll happily work under people they once vastly outranked, they’ll learn, and they’ll probably end up taking my job if they’re crazy enough to want it. There’s plenty of work for all of us. Trust me, they’ll be right in the thick of things along with you and me, and you’ll be glad they’re there.”

  Captain Ivanov arrived at Area 51 to pick up the new recruits. He sought out Emily as the recruits boarded and asked her if she would like to assist the bridge crew. Dave and Jackie were stunned. He invited them to join him on the bridge for the departure. Emily took Ivanov’s arm and led him slightly ahead of the group following them. She spoke softly, he looked at her thoughtfully and asked a few questions, then he nodded his head.

  When they arrived on the bridge, Emily settled herself into the pilot’s seat. Greg and Arlynn stood out of the way at the back of the bridge as Ivanov invited Dave and Jackie to stand beside his own seat behind and to the side of Emily. Seemingly perched out in the prow of the ship, Emily looked back at Ivanov, all business. He nodded, and she went to work. Soon, a line appeared before them on the forward screen. Emily changed the scale until it showed the track of the ship all the way to its first jump point, looked to the other pilot beside her and received a nod, then she lifted the ship on manual. She flew a lazy circle over the high desert of Area 51, then she pointed the ship higher and pushed the speed lever forward. Very focused, but appearing outwardly calm, she headed into space. With Ivanov’s approval, she orbited Earth once, letting the new recruits see their home from space.

  An hour and a half later, she angled the ship outward and they were on their way. She checked that she was precisely on course, then she turned guidance over to the ship’s computers.

  She turned to the other pilot. “Established on course and on speed, sir. The autopilot is engaged. Will you relieve me?”

  The pilot winked and nodded, and she turned to Ivanov. “Permission to be relieved, sir?”

  “Not yet. Have you forgotten?”

  She thought for a moment, then looked crestfallen. “Oh, yea. I mean, yes, sir.” She tapped keys on her armrest, then she turned back to Ivanov. “Departure logged by Cadet Rhodes, acting pilot, sir. The ship is on computed trajectory. First jump point in six weeks, three days, nineteen hours. Permission to be relieved?”

  “Permission granted, Cadet Rhodes. I’ll log your performance as satisfactory.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said stiffly, then she got out of her seat and grinned. “Do I get to make the jumps, too?”

  Ivanov smiled. “We’ll see. Don’t push your luck, young lady.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Her father stepped up to Ivanov. “My thanks to you, Captain. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  “She’s one of the lucky ones, sir. Not many have the interest or the mindset to be a starship pilot. Emily does.”

  “She doesn’t even know how to drive a car!” Dave replied.

  “Oh, Dad. I’m twenty-one. I’ve been driving for a long time.”

  Dave just rolled his eyes.

  * * * * *

  During their nearly one-year absence from Ariall, An’Atee scientists had found a way to detect cloaked ships, a huge bonus. The system was not foolproof, and the closer the sensors were to cloaked ships, the better the system worked.

  The technological advancement came with one major drawback—for close-in fighting, the system functioned through minimal shielding, but from any significant distance, An’Atee ships had to be completely uncloaked and unshielded. Anyone using the system would be at the mercy of the Oort.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  No one knew when the Oort would return to Haldor, but six years had elapsed since the last attack. Greg grew more anxious by the day—the Oort might have already attacked Haldor for all he knew, though he had not received any messages to that effect from his ships stationed there. The Executive Committee met and decided it was time to position themselves.

  Grayson developed a plan with help from his commanders, which included Angie Tolland who had been promoted to admiral. She had her star, but she did not yet have a ship of her own. Instead, she had a small fleet of ships.

  Grayson’s plan called for Greg and Kannick to join Lor Tas’val on the planet. He selected Admiral Gary Landers to command his main fleet, and Ollie would stay with him. Landers’ fleet, in order to intercept an advancing Oort attack that could come from any direction, had to station itself well inside the system and close to Haldor. A major drawback to that positioning was that his fleet’s closeness to Haldor prevented use of the StarDrive snowflake, the system Dr. Tessle had developed that would, theoretically, take out most of an Oort fleet. Use of the snowflake required that ships be far enough out in the system to jump into hyperspace.

  Grayson retained overall command. He stationed himself on the outskirts of Haldor’s system with a small, cloaked, reserve force of two prime ships and 20 fighters, more than enough ships to form the StarDrive snowflake. Because he was so far out, he could jump away, then return to any quadrant of the system. The risk was that he might end up in a stern chase and never catch up to his quarry.

  Angie commanded another small contingent whose purpose was to find and destroy any Oort observers who remained separate from the battle. Her job was critical—new Alliance ships and weapons wou
ld come into play during the battle, and the Harbok were operating An’Atee-built ships whose drive signatures were An’Atee. The existence of the An’Atee would be revealed for the first time ever. Grayson did not want this knowledge to reach the Oort home world if he could prevent it.

  Angie could not detect cloaked Oort ships if her own ships were cloaked, but her ships needed to be cloaked if they had any hope of sneaking up on Oort observers. For that reason, An’Atee engineers had built small, drive-less sensor units that Angie sprinkled around the system. They would be nearly undetectable, but they sent continuous sensor feeds to Angie that would alert her to lurking Oort ships.

  Arlynn and Emily stayed behind on Ariall. Arlynn would run the Alliance in Greg’s absence while Emily continued her studies.

  Greg and Kannick entered the gray world of Haldor, where they would remain until the Oort attacked. Though they were not prisoners this time, most Harbok ignored them. Lor Tas’val’s top commanders accepted their presence out of appreciation for the new ships they had received, but none of them went out of their way to make them feel welcome.

  The Harbok were equipping their own ships with the latest An’Atee innovations, but the process was slow. The An’Atee baseship had taken up position outside the main repair facility in orbit, and its small factories were pumping out computer crystals as fast as they could, but the process of integrating them into Harbok ships was laborious. Miles and miles of wiring had to be replaced with optical cables. Walls and floors and ceilings in the ships had to be stripped to run the cables, then put back together, then everything had to be tested under demanding conditions. Only a few ships had been completed by the time Greg and Kannick arrived. Those ships had the latest screens and weapons as well, but they were too few to make a difference.

  Not surprising, Harbok crews vied with each other for assignment to the An’Atee ships that had been sent to them. Those ships and crews became the Harbok’s first line of defense.

  Tas’val was as gracious as he could be. Never one to flaunt his position, he always dressed plainly and lived plainly, as did the rest of his men and women. Greg and Kannick received tours of the planet, most of it emptied of civilians now, and Tas’val was not miserly with information. He provided reading materials on any subject they requested, and they spent long hours perusing Harbok history, culture, and science.

  Haldor was a cold world, much of its surface permanently frozen. Cities were, in most cases, constrained to a narrow temperate zone, which included Lor Tas’val’s headquarters and operations center. The civilian population was only there to support the military and ship-building factories.

  So focused were the Harbok on the Oort that Kannick wondered if they had forgotten what they were fighting for. Greg, on the other hand, empathized with Ollie’s beliefs. With anything less than total commitment—even with total commitment—the Oort might win.

  Having grown accustomed to the horrendous time commitments needed to run the Alliance, they both became bored. They exercised daily, and the Harbok became accustomed to the two jogging down corridors or even jogging outside if the weather was suitable. A month passed, then another. Kannick finally convinced Tas’val to let them attend the training academy. They spent several months learning the systems on Harbok ships, then they graduated to simulators. They got little opportunity to fly the simulators, and then only after hours. The Harbok syllabus required they become navigators first, a job that both found extremely difficult and demanding. The Oort showed up before they graduated.

  When Oort ships materialized in the Haldor system, the word spread like wildfire. When Tas’val finally notified Greg and Kannick, the two of them entered a room whose displays showed not a single Oort ship. Numerous Harbok ships showed, of course, including the newer ships with An’Atee-built drives.

  “Everyone else is cloaked,” Tas’val said unnecessarily. “Our own ships will not cloak until the battle starts. They’re on an intercept with the enemy’s last known trajectory. If we can get close, we might be able to stir something up. This is bad, as bad as our worst estimates.”

  “What of my ships?” Greg asked.

  “I ordered the baseship outside our repair facility to leave. It’s on a trajectory that will take it away from the battle. Admiral Lander’s fleet is cloaked. He dispatched it toward the Oort—he claims to be able to see them—but I find that very hard to believe.” He pointed to a tiny symbol on the screen and said, “This is the only An’Atee ship we can see. We don’t know why it’s uncloaked. We’ve sealed off the base and our other underground facilities,” he added. “The Oort will not take us without a lot of effort.”

  “How hard will it be for them to just blow the doors off?” Greg demanded with a hint of anger in his voice. “I need to talk to Grayson.”

  Tas’val led him to a communications panel. Greg opened a channel on a directional transmitter that would, hopefully, limit interception by the Oort, but discussions with ships out in the system were awkward because of the distance. Transmissions to and from Landers’ fleet took one hour each way, meaning replies to questions took two hours. Grayson, on the other hand, had to remain in the far reaches of the system in case he had to jump. Answers to questions with him took eight hours.

  Greg knew that Grayson would hold his position with his reserve fleet. Admiral Landers commanded the main fleet which was on an intercept with the Oort.

  “The Oort’s cloaking device must be primitive,” Landers reported, “because their ships stand out like beacons to our sensitive instruments.”

  “How many Oort?” Greg demanded.

  The reply came two hours later. “The same as before, about a thousand,” Landers responded.

  “Lor Tas’val is shooting daggers from his eyes. What advice do you have for him?”

  “I can see the cloaked Oort, and I can deal with them. I want him to pull his ships back to the planet and set up the most impenetrable defense he can design in case any get past me.”

  Tas’val could not accept that. “Greg,” he said with authority, “I cannot count on the An’Atee to fight. If your ships know where the Oort are, mine will join them.”

  “That’s the worst possible thing you can do,” Greg argued. “We’re not trained to fight together, and we’re organized differently. Pull your ships back.”

  “No. We’re all in agreement that the An’Atee are not fighters.”

  “My ships are crewed by An’Atee, who are excellent pilots, but every single ship here is commanded by someone who will not hesitate to pull the trigger.”

  “They can’t possibly have the necessary skills. They haven’t been doing this long enough.” Tas’val walked away to visit with his commanders.

  Greg turned to Kannick. “This is a disaster.”

  Kannick stepped over to Tas’val and his commanders with Greg right behind him. “You must not do this thing,” Kannick pleaded. “Let our ships locate the Oort. Hold your own in reserve until you can see the Oort, then you can engage.”

  “Engage what?” the senior Harbok commander demanded. “We can’t see them now, and that’s not likely to change.”

  “We know where they are, sir,” Kannick responded. “It’s a brand-new system and extremely dangerous to use, so we haven’t given it to you yet. We can only find cloaked ships with our shields completely down and our cloaking devices off.”

  “Your ships are cloaked now. What are you saying?”

  “See that one ship, the one that looks like it’s all alone?” Kannick asked, pointing at a display. “Its cloaking device is off so that it can see the Oort. Our main fleet is following it. When we get close to the Oort, our fleet will drop their cloaks to engage. Even then, they have to go in with their shields down, but only until the Oort start fighting back. They’ll have caught the Oort by surprise. As soon as our fleet drops their cloaks, you’ll know where to send your ships.”

  “Your ships are going in without shields? You’re insane.”

  “We don’t relish the i
dea either. They only have to stay unshielded until they engage, then they can revert to normal shielding. It’s primitive and dangerous, but it works. I see no other way to defend Haldor.”

  “We Harbok will do the defending here,” the commander said. “Just as we always have. We know what we’re doing.”

  “How are you going to find cloaked ships?” Kannick demanded, frustration evident in his tone.

  “Your ships will force them to show themselves. Then we’ll be on them. The ships you gave us have the laser tagger, and it works. You’ll see.”

  “I ask one more time. Please give us a chance. Hold your ships in reserve.”

  Lor Tas’val pulled Greg and Kannick aside. “The decision is made. Our ships will follow your scout and be there when the battle starts. You cannot expect us to cast aside all our years of experience. I would no longer be Lor if I forced my men to do as you ask.”

  “Even if you ask them to hold back just until we see how the battle goes?” Greg demanded angrily.

  “Even that. As it is, if your scout really does see these Oort, it will lead the real fighters to the battle. My men will persevere against the worst odds we have yet encountered, considering this ability of the Oort to cloak. You gave us advance warning of this capability, and you have worked hard to counter the cloak. Your job is done. Why don’t you have your scout vector my ships in to the Oort and keep your own in reserve?”

  “Because your ships would get there and still not see anyone,” Kannick answered sadly. “You err, Lor Tas’val. You have to give us time to engage them and force them to show themselves.”

  “It won’t be the first or the last time that I err. The situation is very bad, but the assistance you’ve already given us will make a difference. Your men will find the Oort. Mine will destroy them.”

  Greg went back to the communicator to update Grayson and Landers. Landers was not surprised. “We knew this might happen,” his reply came back two hours later. “You probably can’t see it from where you are, but I’ll get first licks. The Harbok are a good half hour behind us.”