War of the Spheres

by B. V. Larson

  Flecks flew from his lips. He’d grown some bad habits out here on the Moon.

  Shoving his chair back with both hands, Niederman bolted to his feet. In the low gravity, the dramatic gesture sent his bloated body moving with surprising speed.

  “You…?” he said, dropping his spoon so it rang on the desktop. Apparently at a loss for words, the general’s face flushed pink. “I don’t believe this. I’ll have you arrested, Gray.”

  “I’m terribly sorry to burst in on you like this General Niederman,” I said, looking at the scene with mild disgust. “Truly, I am.”

  His hand reached for his desktop, no doubt to summon his troops. Niederman tapped at his desk, and I let him. After a moment, he looked up again with confidence.

  “You need to be tamed, Gray,” he said. He’d recovered himself somewhat and settled back down into his chair. “Perhaps a few months in the brig will calm your impulses.”

  “Sir,” I said, “I’m here to arrange the exit of our expedition from your station.”

  “That’s good news. But you won’t be leaving with them. I’ve been looking for a pretext, and this is it. You’re going to be placed under arrest, Gray. Control can sort that out with the military courts.”

  “That would be an error, sir,” I told him. “Colonel Hughes’ project simply can’t risk any further delays, and I’m an important part of her team.”

  Rotating his round head, he looked at me coldly. “You Control pricks think quite a lot of yourselves, don’t you? Well, your kind doesn’t impress me. That fool Shaw came to me first, and he had grand plans of his own. He thought he was some hot-shit too. But you know what? We just found him, floating outside an airlock.”

  “Really?” I asked in a concerned tone. “I’m surprised that you’re confessing that a crime so grave was committed on your watch, sir.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “You just admitted to me,” here, I turned to indicate Jillian, “in front of a neutral witness, that one of our officers was murdered on your station. Coupled with your obvious hostility toward Control personnel—”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” he shouted—throwing his napkin down on the table.

  “Dare to what? Arrest the Luna commander? You wouldn’t be the first to get big ideas out here in space. Maybe you’ve got a god-complex. I don’t know—I’m not a psych. All of that will come out in the investigation and trials.”

  We glared at each other. We were at an impasse. He was out to arrest me, but I’d trumped his move with a threat to arrest him.

  Of course, I was bluffing. Control had no means for investigating Niederman. They were just as likely to let him shoot me, I suspected.

  But he didn’t know that.

  Finally, after several long, tense seconds, Niederman sucked in a breath through his flaring nostrils and lifted his ample chin.

  “It’s time to put our cards on the table,” he said. “I don’t want anything to do with your filthy Ministry full of political backstabbing. That’s the kind of stink I left behind on Earth. After we found Lt. Shaw’s body and moved it to the morgue, I ordered my men to replace the security detail at Colonel Hughes’ project—but I can see now, that was a mistake.”

  “Agreed—how do you propose we proceed?”

  “I want out of this entirely—and I want you off my back.”

  “Done. I can be out of here within hours, but…”

  His face contorted. “You’re still thinking about taking Viper with you? You can’t be serious!”

  “That’s right. We need that ship.”

  “Forget it. Can’t you grasp that I was planning on arresting you today, Gray? The fact you came to my office made it all the easier, no searching the passages for a fugitive… Just take my offer and leave quietly.”

  At that moment, there was a hammering at the door. Niederman opened it.

  Major Knox stood there, looking stern. Two sergeants stood behind him.

  “General,” Knox said, “with your permission, we’re here to—”

  Dr. Brandt stood up. “You can’t arrest Gray,” she said. “He’s all we’ve got left to stop the alien threat.”

  Knox opened his mouth and looked like he was about to charge in and grab me. I steeled myself for possible action. I couldn’t afford to sit in a cell. How could I guard the engine if I was behind bars?

  Niederman raised a hand, stopping Knox. He looked at Jillian as if she were mad. “You’ll have my men, Dr. Brandt. What’s wrong with Major Knox? You need real troops, not some rented spook from Earth.”

  “That’s not good enough,” she said. “I’ve seen the enemy in action. They go right through normal men.”

  I stood up next to Jillian. “Are we at an impasse, then?”

  Niederman shrugged. “I guess that we are.”

  “A shame. I’ll report to your brig, General. Control will place you at my side a few hours later. Perhaps we’ll share the same cell.”

  Nodding curtly, I turned to go with Major Knox.

  But the moment I turned my back, Niederman cleared his throat. “I’m the final authority on this moon, Gray. You’ll follow my orders while you’re in my presence. Major Knox, withdraw for now. I want everyone out of here, except for Gray.”

  They all looked startled. I stayed aloof, as if I hadn’t a care in the world.

  Niederman eyed me for a moment longer, then waved at the rest. “Didn’t you hear me? Out!”

  They all fled, even Jillian.

  Niederman and I faced one another.

  During this stand-off, Niederman’s desk lit up. A ring of yellow that ran all around the outer edge lit up and slowly flashed. His secretary’s voice began speaking—the sound coming from the corner of the general’s smartdesk.

  “General Niederman, there’s an urgent call incoming,” the secretary said.

  The fat general ignored the green talk button that had appeared on his desk and just stared at me. He took in loud, shallow breaths and plotted my doom in his mind.

  “I’ll drop the charges,” he said. “I want you off my turf, Gray. Today. Within hours.”

  “Done,” I said, trying to keep any hint of triumph out of my voice. “Just make the call to Jessup.”

  “How can I do that?” he asked. “Jessup is Fleet. He’s only nominally under my command. I’d have to go through channels back on Earth. It would take a month to get the approval for—”

  “Give the order, General, then ask for permission afterward.”

  His face fell. I could see he was seriously conflicted. “That sort of thing costs a man a lot of influence. The brass down on Earth will take offense.”

  I had no doubt he was right about that. Maybe this was the real reason he hated the idea. He probably didn’t have a lot of friends down on Earth to begin with. After all, a long stint on the Moon wasn’t a plum assignment.

  “I’ll tell you what, sir,” I said. “I’m not a bottom-feeder at Control. Every military man needs a friend in the Ministry. I’ll owe you one for this.”

  “You’ll owe me what?”

  “A favor. Someday you might get into trouble… Maybe you already have a skeleton or two that could use a good burial. In either case, I’m your man.”

  He eyed me thoughtfully.

  “General Niederman?” the desk squawked again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s an urgent call waiting.”

  Niederman looked as if he were about to answer, but he stopped himself. “You know what I think, Gray? I think you killed Lt. Shaw. I think you staged the invasion of the transport, and you put a virus or something onto that corvette. You’re an animal Gray—you don’t belong in space!”

  “With all due respect, General… Maybe you should answer that call…”

  A large, yellow block of color was now blinking on his desktop.

  “Sir? It’s Captain Whitman he’s very insistent. He claims the entire station is in danger.”

  Niederman looked at me and nodded. “Your accomplice from Earth,
no doubt? You’ve got this all arranged, don’t you?”

  “Not this time,” I said, frowning at the desk.

  At last, Niederman unfolded his sausage-like fingers and answered the incoming call.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Captain Whitman, sir. I serve aboard Quark.”

  Niederman sighed. “Report, Whitman, and make it quick.”

  “Yes sir. To make a long story short, my sensor op has detected a high-speed anomaly of appreciable size heading directly for your station.”

  “Sir, Whitman is…” I said, leaning forward. “Wait a minute—did he mention his sensor op?”

  Niederman’s stubby fingers spread out and made shooing motions in my direction. It was as if he wanted to shield his desktop from my snooping.

  I wondered if Whitman had found a stand-in for his sensor op station. One thing was sure—If Quark’s primitive equipment was picking up something big and scary, it was probably no joke.

  “You might want to listen to him, General,” I said quietly. “I can vouch for Captain Whitman’s character first hand. If he’s contacting your office to say he’s found a problem—”

  “Nonsense,” Niederman said. “You’ve put an accomplice up to this haven’t you? Why wouldn’t my own people in the flight tower inform me if—”

  “General?” the secretary spoke again. “The duty commander in the air traffic pod would like an urgent word with you.”

  “Now what?” he asked. “Please relay him through. Pause the call.”

  The desktop glowed a throbbing green now. He had Whitman and his own air traffic man on hold at this point, but he just glared at me, silently stewing.

  “It sounds like another attack incoming, sir,” I said. “They won’t stop coming until you let us leave here.”

  “With Jessup’s destroyer?”

  “How could we survive otherwise? We need that ship’s armament.”

  Niederman chewed his lower lip. It was a disgusting thing to watch.

  Unhappily, he looked back down at his desk. He selected his duty officer in the tower to talk to first.

  “What have you found?” he asked.

  “General,” the panicked officer said, “it’s a deep space freighter. She’s due to dock sir, but she’s approaching with reckless speed.”

  “Hold on, please.”

  Niederman glared at me some more. “I don’t know what your game is, Gray, but I have to take these warnings seriously. Maybe that’s what you planned. But in any case, I’m sick of it. I’m especially sick of you. Get your experimental ship and your murderous schemes off my station.”

  I stood up immediately.

  Niederman reached out a finger to stab at the hold button, but I leaned forward to stop him. “Excuse me, General. To be clear: you’re approving our request? We can board the destroyer and exit local space?”

  His eyes slid from me, to the flashing desktop, and back again.

  “Yes,” he said at last in a defeated tone. “I’ll back you up with Jessup. All the ships have to leave anyway, if there’s some kind of threat incoming toward the station. Go out there, perform your nonsensical mission—and don’t come back.”

  That was all I needed. Without irritating Niederman any further, I headed for the door.

  Chapter 26

  Feeling we’d come out of the encounter in pretty good shape, I spun on my heel and bounded away.

  Jillian rejoined me, but she was less than happy. She was muttering about fiefdoms built on indulgence and delusions.

  “General Niederman runs this place like a dictator,” she complained. “This sort of thing happens in space all the time, but it’s ugly to see it up close.”

  “What—overeating?” I said, trying to throw a little humor at her to keep it light.

  “Not that. The building up of tiny, one-man kingdoms. It’s the isolation. Psychs have studied it for years. Whenever a small group is cut off aboard a ship or a far-flung station, they begin to develop their own odd culture after a while. If only these things could be dealt with…”

  “So you’re saying this is normal?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but there are historical precedents for this sort of thing. In the world wars when communication was primitive, submarine crews became widely varied in behavioral patterns due to long isolation. They grew reputations. Some were considerate of the enemy—others were ruthless.”

  “Interesting…”

  “Farther back, the same thing happened in the sailing days. Some captains were so harsh their crews mutinied.”

  “I can tell you’ve studied the topic. No doubt that’s because you hope to send an Earth ship outside of our Sphere someday?”

  Jillian glanced at me sharply, but then she nodded. “It’s not a secret to anyone on this project, I guess. Why else make a drive like ours? Can you imagine how a starship crew might respond to being cut off from Earth for years? There’s a lot of empty space between the stars.”

  “Right now, that’s the least of our worries,” I told her. “We’ve got to get that engine aboard Viper and get her underway.”

  “You’re right. Shit—we can’t possibly install the engine properly in an hour.”

  “I know,” I said, “but we don’t have to get it operational. We only have to get it strapped down, so Viper can fly us out of here.”

  She shook her head worriedly.

  “Oh, hell,” I muttered, looking at my comm-link.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A text from Hughes is telling me that Whitman’s rethinking how to get the field generator aboard Viper.”

  “Great. What should we do?”

  “Let’s go check out the situation at Viper’s docking bay.”

  We rushed together through the passages. Whenever we spotted one of Niederman’s guards trotting by, we quickly turned down a side-passage. There was no need to take unnecessary chances. Maybe he’d changed his mind about arresting me again.

  When we reached Viper’s docking tube, we found several of Jessup’s crew standing by, so we didn’t try to go aboard. Instead, we found a wide, plasteen port that gave us line of sight to Viper’s starboard cargo hold.

  The doors were wide open, and six of Jessup’s men were out there suited up against hard vacuum.

  They might have been ordered there by their captain to play defense, but I watched long enough to decide there was no reason not to stick with the original plan.

  In the meantime, Jillian took that time to straighten my collar and then look me over while I operated my comm-link. I finally got Whitman to answer my call.

  “Chief Gray?” I heard a voice at last. He sounded incredulous. “What the hell do you want, you crazy son of a—?”

  “Shut up Whitman. We need to talk.”

  “This isn’t Whitman. This is Logan.”

  I blinked twice. This was another one of those rare surprises. I didn’t have a good rapport with this man. In fact—even though I still thought it was justifiable—he was one of the men I thought I’d killed recently.

  “Oh… Logan…? Alive and well! That’s great news,” I exclaimed.

  “Not for you it isn’t. I’m gunning for your life, Chief.”

  “Look,” I said, not happy with his shitty attitude, “you’ve got to suck it up, Logan. Like I told you we’re fighting an alien invasion. You, of all people, should be convinced of that.”

  “Sure, Gray—I became convinced when you threw me to that animal and let it shred me like a doll. We’re all besties now. Why don’t we catch up over some beers since we’re such good friends, huh?”

  “Look, I’m sorry about the whole ‘kicking you off the bridge’ thing. I’m very glad we all lived through it.”

  “You’re a lunatic, man. Don’t try to blow me off.”

  “There’s no time for whining now. You can cry about it to your counselor later on—if we live that long. Just tell me about this anomaly coming at us.”

  “Fuck you!” he yelled,
and for a second, I thought I’d pushed him too hard. But then he started talking again. “Did you say something about the anomaly? Damn—you do have some good intel... Whitman just called that in about ten minutes ago.”

  “Right, so tell me about it.”

  “I shouldn’t bother. There’s probably nothing you can do about it, anyway. All you need to know is the dockyard is going to be blown to dust in about an hour.”

  “In that case, you might want to hurry up with the explanation,” I said patiently.

  “Okay, look. You’re a complete bastard Gray, but I’m going to talk to you because the people who should be listening are morons.”

  “You aren’t hurrying, Logan.”

  “Fine. It goes like this: after some excellent medical care, during which robots re-inflated a punctured lung and installed nano-splints in my ribcage, I was able to function again.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Speed it up.”

  “What a turd-pounder…” he sighed. “Okay, I was on the bridge checking my equipment after repairs, to make sure she was operating clean. We don’t have the sharp, long-range stuff like the military uses, you know—”

  Logan was the sensor op on the transport—it figured he’d make a long dramatic story out of the sensor damage. “Yes,” I said, patiently, “I recall the resolution level of your sensory gear.”

  “Well anyway, it seemed to be working fine, but I couldn’t get a clean res. At last it came into focus. Imagine my shock at seeing a huge ship coming in fast from out deep.”

  “How huge?” I asked. “How fast, and how deep?”

  “Whatever she is, she’s big, but she’s not designed for speed. I’m guessing it might be an asteroid miner…you know—a load-hauler.”

  “A deep space freighter.”

  “Yeah—maybe that.”

  “And—?”

  “I can’t say exactly how deep in space she came from, but I’ve been doing this my whole career. That ship is on a direct collision course with the station. She’s big, she’s not slowing down, and I’m guessing she’s not talking.”

  I waited for him to continue.

  “Look, I get it now—I’m a believer after what happened on the transport,” he said. “I can appreciate a strong feeling for what’s not right after that—and this isn’t right.”