“Did you bring the hypermissiles? We’re expecting a Profiteer attack on Newton shortly.”
“Yes,” Marsh answered. “The Plymouth has its cargo holds full of the new missiles.”
“Let’s go to the Command Center. Get her docked and unloaded as quickly as possible, so those new missiles can be on board the Star Cross and Trinity today.”
“The Trinity?” said Marsh with a look of surprise on her face. “Is she ready for combat?”
“Yes,” Kurt answered. “You just missed her exiting the construction bay.”
“How soon are you expecting the Dacroni to attack?”
“Anytime,” Kurt replied. “We’ve put the hyperspace buoys in place around the system, and we should have a short warning before they arrive.”
“The Dallas will be here for a month, before we’re scheduled to relieve the Sydney,” Marsh said thoughtfully.
“We can certainly use her,” Kurt replied. “Give your crew forty-eight hours’ leave and then have them report back to the ship. Requisition any supplies you might need to have your vessel ready for combat.”
“We won’t need much,” Marsh said, pursing her lips, as she considered her ship’s supply situation.
Reaching an open turbolift, the two entered and were soon on their way to the Command Center. Kurt wanted to meet briefly with Colonel Hayworth and see to it that the correct hypermissiles were delivered to both the Star Cross and the Trinity. Then he wanted to find Keera and have a long talk with her. With a deep sigh, he knew he would have to take her to Newton to meet his sister, or he would never hear the end of it.
-
Kurt and Captain Marsh walked into the Command Center of Newton Station and were quickly ushered by one of the Marines on duty to Colonel Hayworth, who was talking to several engineers.
“I don’t care how complicated it is. I want that particle beam cannon operational by this time tomorrow. Put extra crews on it, if necessary.”
“The targeting computer hasn’t been programmed yet,” protested one of the engineers, an older woman. “We need it to calibrate the entire system.”
Hayworth frowned and then looked surprised when he saw Kurt and Captain Marsh walk up. “I’ll make sure it’s programmed by the end of the shift tonight. Will that work?”
“Yes,” the other engineer replied. Seeing the fleet admiral, he turned a little pale and motioned for the other engineer to follow him. Moments later they had left the Command Center.
“Problems?” asked Kurt.
“Not really,” replied Colonel Hayworth. “Engineers constantly complain. I think sometimes they spend more time complaining about a project than actually getting the job done.”
“The Plymouth is here, and it has my hypermissiles on it,” Kurt said. “I need them unloaded, and then the missile tubes on the Star Cross and the Trinity loaded with the fifty-kiloton ones.”
“All twelve of the missile tubes on the Trinity have been converted to handle the new missiles,” Hayworth answered. “But only six of the tubes on the Star Cross have been modified.”
“I’m aware of that,” Kurt answered. The large Command Center seemed to be unusually busy with people constantly coming and going. “Load the tubes that have been modified.”
“We’ll also have to change the missile control system so the missiles will respond to our commands,” Hayworth added.
“How long?” Kurt was anxious to get the missiles on board the two battlecruisers.
“Probably only a few hours,” Hayworth answered, “if I get the right people on it. And I know just who I need. I’ve got a young hotshot computer specialist who can work circles around the other programmers. I’ll assign him to it.”
“What about this destroyer idea Captain Simms was talking about, so we can activate the energy shield around the station?”
Hayworth looked surprised and then answered, “If we bring in one of the destroyers and replace some of its emitters with more powerful ones, and then shove the ship against the hull where we’re building the flight bay, it should work. It’ll take about six hours to change the emitters and then ground the destroyer to the metal frame of the bay.”
Kurt thought about it for a moment. The shipyard needed that energy shield. One well-placed hypermissile and the entire structure would be toast. “Do it,” he ordered. While he felt confident he could protect Newton Station, he didn’t want to take the risk of losing everything due to a single missile slipping through their defenses.
“Does it matter which destroyer?” asked Colonel Hayworth.
“Use the Callisto,” suggested Kurt, as he mentally went over the destroyers under his command. “She’s one of the newer ones, and its emitters should be the easiest to modify.”
Hayworth nodded and turned toward Lieutenant Vargas, who was the station’s traffic controller. “Lieutenant, have the Plymouth brought into the repair bay and have the munitions specialists present unload and store its cargo. Then contact Captain Deming on the Callisto. I want that destroyer in the repair bay as soon as the Plymouth exits.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Lieutenant Vargas, as he contacted the captain of the cargo ship.
“Colonel, the Carlsbad has entered the construction bay,” reported Lieutenant Jeannine Haley from her sensor station.
Hayworth nodded. “I’ll have a shuttle take the necessary missiles from the Plymouth to the two battlecruisers, along with a work crew to get the systems working correctly.”
“We’ll leave you to your work,” Kurt said satisfied with the progress Colonel Hayworth was making. “Let me know if there are any problems with the missiles or the Callisto. I’m also giving Captain Marsh’s crew a forty-eight-hour leave. Can you make the necessary arrangements to transport them to Newton?”
“There won’t be any problems, and I’ll make the transportation arrangements immediately,” promised Hayworth as he saw another engineer with a confused look enter the Command Center.
-
Kurt made his way to the medical center to find Keera explaining to several doctors what had happened to Private Dulcet.
“What did this mind probe do to her?” Kurt asked, after listening for a few moments.
“If used too long, it can scramble the pathways in the brain used to recall memories. The best way to explain it is to say, everything is just jumbled up. For instance, if she were to smell a flower, she might instead think about the color blue.”
“If her memories are that bad, how did she manage to function in the pleasure house where Grantz found her?” Kurt still found it disgusting what Private Dulcet had been forced to endure. This was bound to have a profound effect on the rest of her life.
“The Dacroni used another illegal device, which implants a new personality in her short-term memory.”
“Is there any way to bring back her old memories?”
“Yes.” Keera sighed. “It’s complicated. She will need to be exposed to familiar stimuli, and, over time, her old memories should gradually reestablish their normal neural pathways. She needs to have visits from family or people who know her well. If they just sit and talk to her and describe some of the things they’ve done together, it will help.”
It sounded to Kurt as if Private Dulcet had a long road ahead of her. At least she was back home and safe. “Can you come with me to the surface of Newton?” Kurt asked. “I promise to have you back here within twenty-four hours.”
“That won’t be necessary, Admiral,” one of the doctors said. “We’re transferring Private Dulcet to Newton to one of the better medical centers. They can give her the type of personalized treatment and care she needs. I’m afraid that, as her old memories return and she realizes what went on at the pleasure house, she may have some other mental issues.”
“I’ll help get her situated,” Keera said. “Then, once I’m sure she’s safe, we can talk.”
Kurt nodded. Even though he wanted to talk to Keera, she was correct in making sure that Private Dulcet was taken care of fir
st. The young Marine private was much more important business to deal with.
-
On his way to his shuttle, Kurt stopped by the construction bay, where the Carlsbad was fastened to the metal deck as a safety precaution. Large magnetic grapples were attached to the bottom side of the large eight-hundred-meter-long exploration ship. In hindsight, the North American Union had probably made a mistake in not arming the exploration ships more heavily.
The construction bay was full of dockworkers. Many were moving equipment to the ship, and some were already busy installing scaffolding. It was sad to know that all five exploration ships were now being converted for war. Even when this was all over, if it ever was, the people of Earth and Newton would never look at the galaxy the same again. If they did explore in the future, it would be with heavily armed ships and probably as part of a small fleet formation.
With a deep sigh, Kurt turned to go to his shuttle. He had a few more things to take care of, and then he would head to Newton. It was time to introduce Keera to Denise. He also needed to meet with Governor Spalding and General Mclusky one more time. There was no doubt in Kurt’s mind that it might be a while before he could afford personal time on the planet again. He had a prickly feeling on the back of his neck that the Profiteer attack would happen sooner rather than later.
-
Late that afternoon Kurt walked to the door of his sister’s house with Keera following nervously behind.
“Your world is so strange,” the young woman said, as she looked curiously around her. “You have no Controllers. Most of your people are unarmed, and there’s no pollution. I can’t believe how clear the air is. It’s actually safe to breathe!”
Kurt allowed himself to laugh. He had picked up Keera at the medical center and then taken her on a quick tour of the capital, finally ending up at his sister’s house. “I’m glad you came to Newton.”
“Really?” asked Keera, her gaze shifting to Kurt. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to see me again. After all we only had that one evening together.”
“I definitely wanted to see you again,” Kurt assured her. “I planned on seeing you again when I returned to Kubitz.”
The door to the house opened, and Denise stood there with a big smile on her face. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Denise, Kurt’s younger sister. You must be Keera.”
Keera looked slightly embarrassed and nodded her head. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“No way,” Denise said, indicating for them to come inside. “I’m fixing one of Kurt’s favorite meals.”
Kurt led Keera into the living room, where a wide-eyed Bryan waited in ambush.
“Are you an alien?” he asked excitedly, walking up to Keera and examining her from head to toe.
Keera laughed and slowly shook her head. “No, I’m just as human as you are.”
Bryan nodded with a disappointed look on his face. “I was hoping you had a tail or extra arms.”
Sitting down on the sofa next to Kurt, Keera looked at Bryan. “There are actually aliens who have tails and two sets of arms.”
“Really?” said Bryan, his eyes shining with excitement. “Can you tell me about them?”
“We can talk about aliens later,” Denise said, as she sat down across from Kurt and Keera. “Bryan, why don’t you go outside and wait for your dad? He should be home shortly.”
Bryan ran outside and took a watchful lookout on the front porch.
“You have a good-looking son,” commented Keera, shifting her focus back to Denise. “On Kubitz the children stay indoors most of the time.”
“Thank you,” Denise replied. “Kurt says you’re a medical doctor?”
“Yes, I attended the medical training center on Karash, which is one of the more enlightened worlds and a considerable distance from the Gothan Empire.”
“Why did you go to Kubitz? I understand that world is very dangerous.”
“I wanted to treat different humanoid species, and there are more on Kubitz than anywhere else in the galaxy. I went there with my brother, and we ended up staying.”
“Where’s your brother now?” asked Kurt. He had forgotten that Keera had an older brother.
Keera sighed and looked disappointed. “He works for one of the larger Profiteer groups, helping to sell the items they bring to Kubitz.”
“The Profiteers,” said Denise, as she looked sharply at her brother.
“A different group than took over Earth,” Kurt quickly said. He realized he really wanted Denise to like Keera.
Denise nodded. “What was it like to live on Kubitz?”
Keera explained what her life had been like as a medical doctor on the diverse planet, while Kurt listened. He found her revelations highly interesting. He was pleased that Denise seemed to be going out of her way to be friendly to Keera. For tonight, he would just enjoy being with Keera and his sister’s family. Once he returned to orbit, he might not have another opportunity for quite some time.
Chapter Eighteen
High Profiteer Creed sat in his command chair and glared at the Ascendant Destruction’s main viewscreen, which showed the blue-white world it was orbiting. The latest news from the last convoy he had sent to Kubitz fueled his anger. It seemed the humans were buying every captive he sent to sell on the planet.
“Twenty million credits this time!” he swore in a loud voice, glaring at Second Profiteer Lantz. “Added to the forty million for the first two groups.”
Lantz took a step back and then responded. “They paid it to our representatives on Kubitz.” His large eyes waited for Creed’s response. “We still made credits off the deal.”
“With gold that should have been ours, not exchanging it for the slaves,” rumbled Creed, standing and striding to the front of the Command Center to stare at the viewscreen. “All over this planet, they’ve either hidden their gold reserves or sent it to their colony world, and who knows how much they’ve deposited with the Controllers in our own empire.”
“They pay up when we threaten them,” Lantz pointed out. “Only last week the leaders of Japan turned over two hundred bars of gold and ten thousand carats in gems.”
High Profiteer Creed turned toward Lantz, his light-blue-colored skin turning darker. “I believe most of the gold on this planet has been sent to their colony world.”
“Then let’s go take it,” suggested Second Profiteer Lantz. His eyes glowing with greed.
“We shall,” Creed replied. He would need the Dacroni clan leader’s battleships if he wanted to take the colony. “I’ll contact Jarls and tell him it’s time to move on the colony world. He has agreed to 40 percent of the gold we find. That will give him the necessary encouragement and incentive to risk his battleships in the attack.”
“Forty percent is a lot,” Lantz pointed out discontentedly. “He might do it for less.”
“No, Jarls won’t settle for less,” Creed responded. “We need to plan an attack to hold our losses to a minimum.”
“The humans can’t have much of a fleet,” Lantz said, his large eyes narrowing. “We know they have the one battlecruiser and six or eight escorts. I say we just jump in with some of our ships and half the Dacroni battleships, wipe them out, and then take over the colony. If the gold is on the human colony world, it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“What about that truly large ship that was in their shipyard?” Creed responded, not fully confident Lantz’s plan was practical or economical. He looked at another screen, which showed the partially disassembled human station. He had wanted to finish that ship, and sell it and its technology to the arms dealers on Kubitz. “What if they’ve managed to complete it?”
“The Dacroni will destroy it,” Lantz said confidently. “Remember how the humans fled when we returned with the Dacroni battleships? They may even flee from their colony world, once they see we’ve brought the battleships with us. As for that large ship, I doubt that the colony world has the resources to commit to finishing its construction, considering the costs
of buying back their people.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” replied Creed, letting out a deep and frustrated breath. Creed pointed to the viewscreen, which still showed the blue-white globe of Earth. “We’re meeting constant resistance to our every demand. These humans aren’t like other races we’ve subdued in the past.”
“We could make examples of some of their cities,” suggested Lantz. “A few well-placed nukes would be the proper encouragement.”
High Profiteer Creed was silent for a long moment. He had renewed Clan Leader Jarls’s contract for a second ninety-day period, and it already looked as if it would be necessary to renew it for a third time. Each time he did so, it was more costly. It was essential he get the gold from the colony world.
“Contact Clan Leader Jarls and tell him that I want to meet. It’s time we paid this colony world a visit.”
-
President Mayfield was once more in the situation room with Fleet Admiral Tomalson and General Braid.
“What’s going on now?” asked Mayfield in a tired voice. He had a pounding headache from all the stress he had been under. It was all they could do to keep the civilian population from revolting against the Profiteers. Already a few isolated incidents had occurred with well-armed civilians ambushing the aliens and even killing a few of them.
Over the last few weeks, the tension across the planet had mounted. After the attacks in South Africa and Australia, the entire planet was on edge. Mayfield feared, if there was one more major incident, the lid could blow off everything. He and his Cabinet had even talked about evacuating the major cities, but the sheer magnitude of such an operation was too daunting. If word were sent to evacuate, the civilian population would panic. More people would die leaving the cities than if a Profiteer nuclear missile struck.
“Some of the Profiteer ships and Dacroni battleships are moving from Earth orbit,” reported defensive coordinator Colonel Stidham, gesturing toward a sensor screen with numerous red threat icons encircling Earth.
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