‘If anyone can,’ Speaker said, ‘then I believe it is you. And Ella, of course.’
‘Then let’s not forget Al and Gwy,’ Winter said. ‘We have a team of four going in. I have come to rely on Aneka and Al. Ella has proven more than capable of handling herself in the past. Gwy is new, but I think she will perform well. Al, you should keep an eye on your young colleague.’
‘Tell her I will,’ Al said into Aneka’s mind.
‘Said your goodbyes to Cassandra?’ Aneka replied.
‘Farewell, not goodbye.’
Well, it was a positive thought. ‘Al says he will,’ Aneka said aloud. ‘Ella? You ready? I think we should get going before anyone starts crying.’
‘I’m ready,’ Ella replied, picking up a case with last minute items in it and starting for Gwy’s hatch.
Aneka was about to turn when Cassandra stopped her. The android had a serious look on her face. ‘If I may,’ she said, and then stepped in close, pulling Aneka into a kiss which rapidly became more passionate. Then she pulled back slightly and leaned in toward Aneka’s ear. ‘Keep each other safe,’ she whispered. Then she stepped back and allowed Aneka to continue on her way.
Ella accompanied Aneka down to the cockpit when they were aboard and ready to go. ‘Cassandra’s worried, isn’t she?’ the redhead asked.
‘They all are,’ Aneka replied. ‘It’s to be expected.’
‘Are you worried?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
Aneka smiled at her as the flight environment began forming around her. ‘Us together, love? Nothing we can’t do.’
Part Six: The Battle of New Earth
Gwy, 30.12.529 FSC.
‘Do you want me to say the Renewal tonight?’ Aneka asked.
Ella, lying against Aneka’s side, shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know. Is there a point?’
‘More than ever, I’d have said.’
‘Even if we stop the war, there’s not going to be a Federation after this.’
For a second, Aneka was silent. Then she said, ‘But it’s not about the Federation. The Federation isn’t mentioned. If what we’re doing isn’t fighting to keep the darkness at bay, I don’t know what is.’
It was Ella’s turn to think as she went over the words she had heard since she was a child. ‘Okay. I’m still not sure they have much meaning to the Jenlay anymore, but right now, here, they do. I think we should say it together. Let’s start a new tradition.’
Shadataga, 1.1.530 FSC.
‘As this old year turns and the new one begins,’ Abraham Wallace said, ‘we give thanks for all that has been, and look forward to all that is to come. The Long Dark is gone and we look into the light. Let this First Day be the first of many where we strive to be the best we can be and fight to keep the darkness at bay.’
There was the obligatory second drink and then silence. Cassandra sat among her Jenlay companions watching them think about the words which had just been said, just as they had been said for five hundred and thirty years. She knew they were all wondering whether they would hear them said again, but her own thoughts were less focussed on the impending doom falling upon the Lorenti Federation, and more on the possibility that she would never get to speak to Al again.
In truth, if she were to consider it objectively, it was not just Al. He was the primary object of her affection, but Aneka had become something more than a medium by which she could express her affection for the AI within her. Ella too had become more than an addition to these moments of melded bodies and minds. The girl was so enthusiastic, open, and accepting that you could not help from feeling something for her. She missed all of them and losing any of them…
The capacity to study one’s own mind and the processes it went through to reach conclusions was a uniquely AI thing. Organics were notoriously partisan when it came to self-analysis, but Cassandra had the advantage of total detachment should she wish it. She could turn on internal diagnostics and examine the precise mechanisms her mind used. Every decision tree could be examined in detail as though she were working through the processes of another computer. She had tried to use that technique to determine how she had come to love Aneka, Al, and Ella, and she had failed.
She was not even entirely sure that ‘love’ was the right word for what she felt. She had gone so far as to read philosophical papers on the subject, but had come to no solid conclusion. What she did know was that if she lost any of them there would be a hole in her life which she was unwilling to accept.
They would all come back, alive and well. Cassandra was not going to have it any other way.
The Islands, New Earth.
Jackson Elroy sat in silence, his fifth glass of shinishee in his hand. He was alone, and the Renewal had gone unsaid. He saw no point in it this year, and he had declined all of the invitations he had received to be elsewhere.
His thoughts were on Diana Ollander. There had been no word of any kind from Obati since the Herosian attack, and it seemed very much as though there had been no survivors on the planet’s surface. The serene, beautiful, incredibly intelligent Senator was never going to share his bed again, but more than that, he would never get to cross wits with her again, and that he would miss more than the physical aspect their relationship had gained recently.
There were tens of thousands, even millions, of Jenlay out there who had died or lost their lives in some other, more subtle and perhaps worse, way. It was always difficult to empathise with people you had never met. Diana had been more than a colleague and it was her loss that kept Elroy drinking alone.
Beryum.
The children sat huddled together in blankets. They had spent some time working out which of them was the oldest, and then several of the older children had worked out what the words should be. None of them in the cavern had ever spoken them before, but they had studied the early Federation in History and the little committee was fairly sure they had got them right.
They all knew that there should be drinking, and that the words should be said at midnight, but they only had water to drink and no way to tell the time. So it had been agreed that they would perform the little ceremony together when the lights were turned out. It left them in near total darkness, fumbling for the glasses by the light of a single torch, but they had all agreed that it should be done.
Mizzy listened to the words, shivering and trying to keep her teeth from chattering. She had never heard them said before, not for real. Here, in this place, it was very hard to look into the light. The Long Dark seemed far closer than any bright light of civilisation she could see.
One of the older girls, Deena, wrapped her own blanket around Mizzy as well and the younger girl huddled close as silence fell upon the little group. Mizzy could hear someone crying, softly so as not to be heard by too many of the others. Mizzy did not cry, however. She had done all the crying she could do.
The Islands, New Earth, 20.1.530 FSC.
The wall screen showed several faces. Admiral Pierce was up there, representing the FSA, while Admiral Farmer was handling the Navy’s end of things. Finally there was a man Elroy had only ever seen on a video screen, Philip Norden, the chief strategist of the Old Earth Guardians and the man heading up their part in defending New Earth. Of the three he looked the youngest but was actually the oldest; the two men from New Earth had let themselves age a little, it lent respect, but the Guardians respected fitness and a capacity to win in a fight, not age.
‘Our state of readiness remains high,’ Farmer was saying, ‘but we still have no evidence aside from some reports of dubious origin to say that the Herosians are actually coming.’
Norden, who had supplied the information, said nothing. His expression remained taciturn.
‘The reports are accurate, Admiral,’ Elroy snapped. He knew where they had come from, more or less, and was tired of having to repeat the statement that the source was unimpeachable. ‘We can expect them within the next five days. Are we getting any more intelligence fro
m the Herosian-controlled worlds?’
‘Our agents out there have been heavily compromised,’ Pierce stated. ‘We believe there are survivors on all the worlds they’ve captured. On Beryum they’re being used to continue with the mining. We’ve heard no details from the other worlds. The intelligence we do have suggests that Dokar is a more likely target.’
‘If we were dealing with a conventional battlefield, perhaps,’ Norden said, his voice calm and quite quiet. ‘Dokar lies between the ground they hold and what they want. It is a strategic location. However, it will cost them to take it and they know we have reinforced the Joval system. They do not need to take Dokar when they can simply bypass it and come here with a superior, fresh force. Their choice was made as soon as our vessels arrived in your space.’
‘Just make sure we’re ready for them,’ Elroy said, his eyes on Farmer. ‘Pierce, we need more intel on those worlds, and as much as we can get from beyond the border. Good afternoon, gentlemen.’
Elroy tapped the button on his tablet which disconnected the calls and then turned his head. ‘And what do you have to report, Miss Truelove?’
Truelove walked down to the lounge area, flanked by Justine, and took a seat on one of the sofas. ‘City security is tight, perhaps a little too tight. The Administration is running to paranoid, and the Navy seems to be enjoying this a little too much.’
‘How so?’
‘I’m hearing rumours about Navy influence among the politicians. They’re pressing for greater military control of civilian activities.’
Elroy frowned. ‘I’ll see what I can do about negating that.’
‘My information is that the populations on the three captured worlds are being controlled largely through fear. The Herosians have hostages, children. That’s based on intercepted comm-chatter. There are also signs of increased activity in all three systems, but nothing has left them. I think they’ll hit Dokar if their attack here succeeds.’
‘What about… that other operation you mentioned?’
‘We won’t know how that’s gone until it succeeds. Either it stops the war, or we’re in this for the long haul, but it’ll be another week, longer, before we know.’
‘And their fleet will get here in half that time?’
Truelove nodded glumly. ‘I’m afraid so.’
LV-101 Argus, 23.1.530 FSC.
Norden stood amid the highly organised chaos of the operations room, his eyes on the tactical map displayed in the huge holographic tank which filled the centre of the room. Something vaguely similar was being displayed in the command centre on one of the islands on the planet below where Farmer sat in very similar conditions, its data fed from the command systems aboard the Argus. The logistics vessel had computing facilities the Jenlay had not, yet, contemplated. Its quantum processing units were capable of enormously accurate simulations of battle plans, as well as the integration of data feeds from far more sensor systems.
Yet the Jenlay Admirals had insisted that they take overall command of the system’s defence. Norden considered it a mistake, but it was their world and while Farmer had never fought a real war Norden had to admit that he was in the same position. The last war with the Pinnacle was long before his time. The most he had ever had to fight was a few ogres, but he had actually gone out to fight them. As far as he could tell, Farmer had never fired a weapon in anger.
The fact that the leader of the Jenlay Navy was doing his leading from a bunker on the planet was not a good sign either. A general who led from the rear was a poor general, in Norden’s book. The Argus was a wonderful ship, but it was largely unarmed, and that meant that Norden was unhappy with his position. He was more at the front than Farmer, but he would have liked to have been aboard the Helios, in the fighting.
‘What are you running?’ The voice came from Norden’s left. He did not need to look to know that it was Janis Hunt, the ship’s Captain. She would be in her full combat uniform and he did not need the distraction of seeing her in it. Norden had stopped using cyberdrugs several years ago because he felt his head was clearer without them. Yrimtan had personally questioned him on the decision, but had seemed happy with his choice. Unfortunately, it also left him more open to the attractions of a woman as pleasant to look upon as Captain Hunt.
‘Probable deployments of an attacking fleet based on known characteristics of the Herosian ships, our deployment, and what they are likely expecting us to be doing.’
Hunt was silent for a while as she watched the display. Points appeared around the simulated planet, arcing through imaginary space toward other dots already in place.
‘That would appear to be a very conservative opening gambit,’ she said.
‘They don’t know our strengths and weaknesses. If it were only the Jenlay, they could afford a more forceful beginning, but they have us, an unknown, to deal with. Unfortunately, details on their fleet are incomplete, so my simulations are… too approximate for my taste.’
Without warning the simulated tracks vanished and new dots appeared in the hologram tank. At the same instant both of them saw streams of data appearing in their vision fields.
‘Warp exit signatures,’ Hunt said.
Norden allowed himself to look at the Captain. Things could go very well or very badly in the next few hours. If it was the former, he intended to persuade Hunt that her body could be used for something other than fighting when they were done, and he wanted to know what he was fighting for. If it was the latter… Well, he deserved something nice to think about as he tried to breathe vacuum.
‘You’d better get to the bridge,’ he said. ‘Good luck, Janis.’
She looked a little surprised at his use of her first name, but she nodded. ‘Same to you. Let’s hope the Jenlay know what they’re doing.’
New Earth Naval Command, The Islands.
Farmer sat in his command position, his eyes on the displays arrayed in front of him. They showed around sixty vector tracks, each of them a Herosian vessel which had appeared in the system less than a minute ago. As he moved his head to scan over them, detailed information was displayed in the heads-up mount positioned over his right eye. Three battleships, one of them of an unknown design, each accompanied by three destroyers. Twenty cruisers were out there, moving in toward New Earth, at least twenty frigates, though there seemed to be some of the stealth models as well and the system was having trouble with those. They had brought heavy gunships, vessels designed for planetary bombardment.
‘Orders, sir.’
Farmer glanced at the Commander who had made the request, a slight woman he could not remember the name of. He looked back at the screens and the three-dimensional mapping they were displaying and gritted his teeth. The bastards were not going to get away with invading his system.
‘We attack,’ Farmer growled.
FNf Delta Brigantia.
Anderson did not exactly sit in her command chair; the Captain’s position was more like a vertical bench into which the senior officer was strapped, supported by something like a bicycle saddle and surrounded by a globe of visual display equipment. A lot of male officers found it a rather uncomfortable arrangement, but none could deny that it gave an excellent overview of the space surrounding your ship.
Right now Anderson’s display was showing empty space and some data points indicating distant enemy vessels. There was also a panel which had recently appeared containing the orders Admiral Farmer wanted carried out and they were exactly what she had expected to see coming out of her fleet Commander. She reached out, fingers shifting over a virtual keypad.
‘Prentice,’ she said, her voice calm but authoritative, ‘give me a course matching that attack vector. Hughes, weapons systems to full power. Baron, I’ve transferred our assigned targets; I want a weapons lock on our primary as soon as possible.’
Around her, her A-Shift crew began to move immediately. They were among the best in the fleet, maybe the best frigate crew, but this was the first time they were ever going to see a battle on t
his scale. She hit the interior broadcast button on her comms display.
‘All hands, this is Anderson. Secure vessel for battle, gunners to turret positions. This is it, people, the war has come to New Earth. We’ve trained for this, we know what we’re doing and how to do it. We’ve always said that we’re the best crew in the fleet, well this is our chance to prove it.’
She cut the broadcast and checked their status. They were already accelerating toward a squadron of gunships which was moving in toward the planet. Telemetry data on the one Command had designated as their primary target was already starting to come in on part of her screen.
‘Time to intercept,’ Baron said, ‘nine hundred and thirty-two seconds.’
FNb Admiral Banfry.
‘All stations report ready, Captain,’ Leeforth reported. ‘Turret controls are manned.’
‘Thank you, Commander,’ Ape responded. The screens on either side of him had reported the same, but there were formalities to the art of war aboard a ship the size of the Banfry. ‘Time to target?’
‘Thirteen hundred and thirty-nine seconds to maximum firing solution range.’
Ape’s eyes scanned over his displays. The Banfry and her squadron were being sent out to intercept one of the two ‘conventional’ battleships on the other side. From his position, it was a relatively foolish move, but he did not have the overview of the Herosian forces that Farmer did. It was possible that the Admiral, back in his nigh-impregnable bunker back on the planet’s surface, could see something Ape could not, but it seemed a lot like the old fool had decided to throw his ships into an inadvisable attack when a solid defence would have meant the Herosians coming to them.
‘Re-plot the firing solutions. Hold the missiles until we’re in range for the antimatter canon. Lasers to fire as soon as they can be brought to bear. Give orders for the frigates to go in on harrying raids. Cruisers are to take out anything that breaks away from their main group.’
Aneka Jansen 5: The Greatest Heights of Honour Page 21