by T. R. Harris
But even though the 2G’s had become easy to spot and to manipulate, it was the true turn-coats – the converts – who were providing Allen with most of his current headaches.
These men were much harder to spot, since they were native-born and well-versed in real life on the planet. One convert in particular had nearly blown Allen’s entire operation a few weeks ago. And wouldn’t you know it – he had been a nerdy bean-counter before his conversion…
Being a man of action, Admiral Nate Allen always hated the Pentagon accountants and their obsession with every bullet, grenade and laptop computer used during a direct action, or DA.
Yet ST6 operated at a different level than most military units, with their own budget and supply protocol. If it hadn’t been for this fact, then Allen may not have been able to spot the spy when he joined the Complex staff about a month after the attacks.
Darin Jacobs was his name, and he was a thin, wiry man, with pre-mature male baldness and a serious case of chronic halitosis. Allen often wondered why Jacobs had ever been abducted in the first place; he was not a very strong representative of the Human race. But he had, and Allen reasoned it was the nerdy man’s quest for power over other Humans that had convinced him to join the 2G’s.
For several weeks now, Allen and Admiral Keller had been working nearly around the clock in the Complex setting up Allen’s secret base. They had also begun to notice more and more obvious 2G’s being assigned to Keller’s support staff. Allen had been able to divert most them from his operations, and Keller, himself, had put his foot down at times as the inexperienced 2G’s attempted to influence his operations.
As Supreme Military Commander, Keller had started to coordinate all the training operations of the new Human recruits, who were coming forward in droves to volunteer for the coming war. The Klin had a total of 985 spaceships in their current fleet, and when the “Saviors” came to Earth to begin the recovery operations, most of those ships had been left undermanned. And as the production of new ships was begun in earnest, the need for trained crews for all the ships became a priority.
The Saviors were finding these new recruits to be rapid learners, much quicker than they had anticipated. Keller figured out early on, that the Earth-born Humans had been acclimated to the task by the myriad of video games most of them grew up with. In addition, native-born men and women grew up playing as only real children played, as cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians – and even space warriors and aliens. The Saviors had been shielded from all this as they were raised, so much of what came naturally for native-borns was foreign to the off-worlders.
So in very little time, native-born crews were supplanting the Savior crews, and Keller was gaining more and more control over the growing fleet.
Yet the converts were in a constant state of suspicion regarding Keller’s operations. Harboring a natural dislike of their own kind, these men had an almost suicidal attitude toward their own kind, and they sought to infiltrate nearly all military and political structures on the planet, and then report their findings back to their Klin masters.
When Jacobs showed up at the Complex to begin his duties as one of the Pentagon auditors, he had slipped through mostly unnoticed. He had specifically requested assignment to Allen’s special forces command, and that’s when the problems started.
“This is bullshit!” Admiral Allen yelled, tossing the stapled stack of papers back on his desk. “How can I train my troops without the proper ammunition.”
Allen’s aide, Lt. Commander Roland Lewis, just nodded. “This is happening more and more. We’ve never had this problem before.”
In his frustration, Allen picked up the report again and turned to the third page. “It says that with production facilities so severely damaged, ammunition requests must be greatly reduced. And it goes on to mention these fucking bolt launchers as a more logical replacement for our traditional weapons. More bullshit!”
“It was Jacobs again, wasn’t it, sir?”
Allen didn’t need to see who had signed the report. He could recognize the tone of the report. “Fuckin-A right. That scrawny little bastard is after us, Roland. I know it.”
“Doesn’t he realize the uniqueness of our charter?” Lewis asked. “We’re the SEALs, for God’s sake. We’ve never had to beg for supplies or equipment before.”
“That’s right. It’s as if he’s never—” Allen’s eyes grew wide. He had had a lot of experience with the 2G’s over the past few months, but he’d only heard rumors of some of the converted native-borns. Could Jacobs be one of them? “That fuckin’ little weasel. He’s one of them!”
“That would explain a lot. After all, how could someone so inexperienced with military supply protocols be assigned to such an important job? And especially with us.”
“But if we take him out, the Klin may double their efforts against us,” Allen said. He sat back down in his chair and pulled his ubiquitous yellow pad close to him. “Think, Allen. Think,” he said to himself, aloud.
Roland leaned forward. “Admiral, what’s the one thing these nerds crave more than even power?” A thin grin was growing across his face.
“Besides sex, what?”
“That’s right, sir. Sex.”
Allen raised his eyebrows at his aide. “You say we get the man laid, and then our problems will go away?”
“Not just that. But what about a sex scandal?”
Allen raised his eyebrows even higher. “We might be even to use this to control him, to re-convert him back to us.”
“It’s worth a try, sir. Even if he won’t re-covert, we can always get him kicked out of the department. But having him working for us as a double agent, that would be a major coup.”
“I know this goes beyond your normal duties as my aide, Commander,” Admiral Allen said with a smile, “but make it so.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The plan was simple, as most affairs of the heart usually are, and with the efficiency of a military operation, Commander Lewis laid out the plan to Admiral Allen:
Lewis, and some of his tech geeks, would gain access to Jacobs’ home and work computers and load them up will all sorts of vile child pornography. While in his home, they would also plant various hard photographs, love letters and more, everything any self-respecting pervert might have lying around their swinging bachelor pad.
Once this was done, it was simply a matter of having an internal computer audit conducted, beginning at the Pentagon, something that was very common in the high-security of the military community. Once Lewis’s auditors had drilled down far enough into Jacobs’ computer, they would ‘discover’ the first hidden traces of the accountant’s secret life. From there, it would be a simple matter of obtaining search warrants for his home, as well as all his electronic devices.
The operation was scary in its simplicity, and doubly so in its effect.
Darin Jacobs knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had been set up. Yet as he sat waiting to meet with the Supreme Military Commander, Admiral William Keller, he continued to rack his brain for ways he could to get out of this mess.
First of all, Jacobs was operating undercover for the 2G’s, and so, had not disclosed the fact that he was a convert. And if that weren’t bad enough, when that rat-bastard Lewis had first approached him with the allegations, he had also informed Jacobs that he knew who he really was.
Somehow – and he was sure it hadn’t been too difficult – they had acquired his fingerprints and DNA, and found out that his real name was not Darin Jacobs, but instead Steven Bernstein from Chicago. His 2G and Klin handlers had devised a new identity for him, that of Darin Jacobs from Miami. Under his real name, he had been declared missing over eight years before. If he had suddenly shown back up, just at the time of Juirean attack, he would have been immediately labeled a convert, and any chance of infiltrating the Pentagon would have been lost. Steven Bernstein was still an accountant, so that much of the cover story was real, but not much else.
The Klin
had hoped that in the aftermath of the Juirean attack, most DNA, dental, and fingerprint records would have been destroyed. Unfortunately, Lewis had found him out.
And now he had ‘caught’ with tons of child pornography. As he sat in Keller’s anteroom, he knew it would difficult for him to stand up and proclaim his innocence regarding the pornography, especially in light of the double life he was leading.
So in the vernacular of the common man, Steven Bernstein concluded that he was truly fucked.
Which made him all the more curious why Admiral Keller had requested to see him…
Commander Lewis and Admiral Allen were in the office with Keller, when Jacobs/Bernstein was ushered in.
“Take a seat, Mr. Bernstein – I can call you that can’t I, since it is your real name?” Admiral Keller’s voice was almost jovial as he spoke.
Steven was not a strong man, so being in the presence of three such powerful military officers caused him to begin sweating profusely. His strength came from control over numbers, not people. In hindsight, this whole spying gig had been a major mistake.
“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here, and not in some jail cell somewhere, making friends with your cellmate Tyrone?” Keller said. “Well it’s simple. We’ve placed you in a position where you have absolutely no option other than to cooperate with us.”
“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.” Steven’s voice was barely audible.
“That may come later, Bernstein,” Keller said. “But right now we want you just continue along in your current position as if nothing has happened.”
Steven blinked several times, as he had trouble believing his ears. “Excuse me, sir?”
“That’s right. You will continue doing just what you’ve been doing – except now you work for us.”
Steven should have seen it coming. He’d seen enough spy movies in his life to know how this worked. He felt an incredible weight lift from his shoulders. Fuck the Klin! He never really liked them anyway. At least this way he would survive. And at this moment, that was the only loyalty Steven Bernstein maintained.
“Yes, sir. I’m your man.”
“Damn right you are,” Keller stated, his tone suddenly as cold and sharp as a knife. “And don’t you ever fucking forget it.”
Chapter Fifty-One
There was a large command building near the center of the base that Adam and Tobias chose for their headquarters. There was base-wide communication equipment, meeting rooms, a large cafeteria and even sleeping quarters for all this men – and Sherri.
The surviving 2G’s, along with the yellow-shirts, were placed in the prison compound, yet confined to only five of the buildings. Guard shacks were erected within the compound to make sure they remained in their designated areas – the original prison was too big to be properly watched when you had a population who would actually try to escape.
Annabelle had been right about the yellow-shirts. Since they had been born and raised by the 2G’s to do only one thing, they had never been given any proper education at all. Some, however, had been responsible for the early child rearing, but once the children reached around four years of age, they were taken away to be educated and trained by male 2G’s, along with a smattering of Klin. So basically, the yellow-shirts were as dumb as dirt.
The remaining 17 2G’s were a different matter. Even though they were young, they had been indoctrinated by the Klin into believing that they were superior to native-borns and that their purpose in life was the right one. Even though they were just as Human as their captors, they thought of the Humans from Earth as aliens, and since they were all young and inexperienced, they were also rebellious to a fault.
Two of them had been shot dead as they tried to escape the compound the very first day. That had tempered the actions of the others, but it only made them more devious in their planning.
Adam was almost to the point of suggesting to Tobias that they were too much trouble to keep around, consuming valuable manpower to guard. He knew it was a heartless thought, but there would be no converting of these men. As long as they stayed alive, they would be trouble. He decided to give it another couple of days before making a final decision. After all, he was the ranking officer now!
After a few days, a routine began to be established. Adam and his men were involved in strategy meetings for their move into The Fringe. Kaylor came down to the surface – to be pushed around in a wheelchair they found in the base hospital – and began to learn how to pilot the Klin ships. He found the controls to be basically along the same lines as those of other ships. The Klin had originally invented the gravity drive, and had designed the basic layout for the controls. Except for a few logical refinements over the 4,000 years since its development, nothing much had changed in the design. So Kaylor, Riyad and Chris Mullis began to train the SEALs, and other volunteers from Chris’s men, on how to pilot the strange flying saucers.
The strangest part of the evolving routine on the base was also one they should have anticipated. It seemed that one of the primary thoughts the newly freed men from the prison had on their minds had nothing to do with getting home, or even enjoying their new-found freedom. It had to do with the green-shirts. Some of the men had been held captive for 10 years or more, and during that entire time they had had no contact with the opposite sex. So now that they were free to wander the base, as were the women, the men began to spend more and more of their time trying to seduce the women.
This action produced its own side effects. The green-shirts had been spirited away from Earth many months, and even years before, and had been subjected to the most degrading treatment imaginable. Some were raped, while others had been artificially inseminated. But all had borne numerous children, some as many as five or six during their time with the 2G’s. The last thing these women had on their minds was more sex, even if it was of their own terms.
This caused an issue for the horny men from the prison, where tempers sometimes flared. Even some fights broke out among the men over the few women who were open to hooking up.
This situation continued for most of the first week. Eventually, the 86 men and 64 women reached an understanding of sorts, and a relative peace descended on the base.
The base was so huge, at one time accommodating over 10,000 2G’s, that all the freed men and women could claim their own domiciles. Adam began to grow concerned when the non-converts began to settle into a somewhat contented state of mind, right there on the base. He began to wonder how many would actually join his slowly growing army?
Some of the men and women had volunteered immediately. Even though not all these early recruits were of fighting grade, Adam took them anyway. Every force still needed their support personnel, and having these people around would help free up the SEALs to do most of the heavy lifting.
Vanholden had been one of the earliest volunteers. He had also helped to organize viewing sessions of the President’s speech, as well as interviews with the current members of Adam’s army. As the first week stretched into the second, Adam’s force had grown by 40, to include 28 men and 12 women.
There was still a small, but insistent, group of about 20 men and 18 women who insisted on returning to Earth. Adam was good at his word, and had found three of the men who had piloting experience back on Earth. He had them trained as pilots for one of the Klin ships that he would allow to be used for the trip back to Earth.
He was also surprised to find that four of the seven scientists were also opting for the return trip. It seemed that the thrill and spontaneity they’d experienced when deciding to join Adam had begun to wear off. Some had abandoned families when bolting for the landing craft. Adam couldn’t blame them, but still he feared for their lives – all their lives – as they would return to face the Klin and their single-minded and heartless goal of perpetuating the war. The Klin had proven that they weren’t beyond cold-blooded murder of millions of people to further their agenda. They would not hesitate to kill every last one of these me
n and women if they saw them as a threat to that agenda.
Two weeks into their stay on Calamore, Adam called a crucial strategy meeting among his top lieutenants. Final plans had to be defined that would get them on the right track, and they had a number of other issues to discuss.
The meeting was attended by all the regulars, but now included Derrick Vanholden, along with another recent volunteer named Josh Cohen and a green-shirt named Ingrid Sorenson. Cohen had held the rank of Colonel in the Israeli army at the time of his abduction, so his skill set could come in handy.
As far the women were concerned, it turned out that Annabelle Pasqual was not much of an intellect, and had no desire to take a lead position. Ingrid, on the other hand, was a fiery pistol of woman who had a wit almost as quick as Sherri’s. The two women quickly became inseparable.
“Okay, we need to get down to brass tacks if we’re to have any chance of success against the Juireans,” Adam began the meeting. “First of all, we have to have the freedom of movement within The Expansion, and we certainly can’t do that aboard the Juirean battlecruiser and the Klin ships. Riyad…”
“My pirate fleet consisted mainly of Silean Exitor-class ships. These are sleek, fast ships with decent weaponry. They have a compliment of about 25, and are the preferred mode of long-range transportation throughout The Fringe. Any of these ships we came upon, we’d make a point of retaining. The other merchant ships we attacked were usually stripped and set adrift.”
“Where can we get these ships – Silean, you called them?” Tobias asked. Adam really enjoyed having the lieutenant at his side. Even though he always deferred command to Adam in the most respectful way, it was hard for him to forget his officer training. Adam had a certain level of expertise himself, but everyone knew that Tobias was the only real officer in the room, at least until Cohen had been brought into the chain of command. But even though Cohen outranked Tobias on a strictly military level, Tobias was a SEAL, and by default, this whole operation was under American control. Cohen was perfectly content with this arrangement.