"We will need to consider this, Comrade Talinokov," said the Chinese president gravely. "We will speak to you of our decision as soon as possible."
President Talinokov and his prime minister nodded as the rest of delegation predictably echoed the Chinese.
"As you reflect on the situation, comrades," said Talinokov, "please keep in mind that our information is correct, the U.S. super-soldier program, along with their lead in technology, could provide the arrogant Americans with an unsurpassable advantage over us. If we fail to curtail their ambitions soon, it may prove too late."
Talinokov saw that idea register in a sudden tightening of concern in their faces. Good, he thought. He and his country were perfectly willing to go it alone, but the Russians were also a practical people, and an alliance was the best practical bet. Afterward, they could sort out who gained the most, and he had no doubt Mother Russia would claim that honor.
THE OFFICIAL account was that the United States Government had been contacted by an alien civilization that called itself the "Luminate" with a classic science fiction ultimatum: the people of Earth would submit unconditionally to Luminate rule, which involved, among other provisions, the immediate surrender of all "oceanic bodies of water" to Luminate colonies, elimination of all space vessels and the military bases and research agencies which supported them, and the decommissioning of Earth's military forces.
These and several other terms of surrender were discussed at length behind a closed-door U.N. meeting, arranged for the late-evening of the day the U.S. had informed the major world powers of the situation in private communiqués. The meeting was unannounced to the news media and no reporters were allowed on the Manhattan grounds. Calls were made from the upper echelons of Homeland Security and the Tomlinson Administration to major media owners to inform them that no story existed, and that any reports of a story would be quashed in the name of national security. The groups controlling the media – a severely limited number of elite individuals – readily agreed, as was their routine, to a moratorium on the meeting and associated events.
As far as the world public was concerned, it was just another day.
Inside the U.N. Headquarters, in the General Assembly Building, a steady roar of fear and disbelief built as U.S. President Loretta Tomlinson addressed the delegates in a somber voice about the "greatest threat to humanity our planet has ever known."
In response to cries for proof of this dire threat, the lights in the room were dimmed and the giant screen behind the rear podium lit up with a small grey-white sphere poised between a colorful band of rings and the bleak blackness of space.
"This is Mimas, a moon of Saturn, as viewed from our joint Russian-U.S. observation base on Enceladus, roughly sixty-three thousand miles away. Mimas has a diameter of 398 kilometers, about one-ninth the size of our moon . We are watching a recording taken just less than ninety minutes ago."
A thin blue beam of light launched from an invisible source struck the moon. A white flash half the size of the moon rose in a mushrooming dome from Mimas's surface. The moon broke apart as if someone had struck it with a monstrous sledgehammer, scattering in jagged white pieces in all directions. Some of those pieces were tumbling toward the telescopic cameras on Enceladus.
A gasp rose from the assembly. Even the Russian and Chinese contingent rocked back in their seats, faces stunned, as if the massive explosion had reached across millions of miles space and touched them. President Talinokov gazed across the room to the Chinese contingent and a darkly scowling President Wanquan. Their eyes locked for a full three seconds before the Chinese leader turned to his anxiously speaking colleagues.
"The insufferable arrogance," Talinokov muttered. "To destroy an entire moon, a piece of the solar system that belongs to us all, to make a mere demonstration."
"It is unconscionable," said Prime Minister Valery Botvinnik. "And yet...forgive me, old friend, but are we absolutely certain it is the Americans, not the Luminate?"
"Of course it was the Americans!" Talinokov snapped, shaken by the display despite knowing better. None of them had been forewarned about this demonstration. "That destruction is in the range of several well-placed powerful hydrogen bombs, I am certain."
"What if it was not merely hydrogen bombs? What it was matter-antimatter bombs, as we have long suspected they possess?"
"What if they do? They couldn't possess more than a handful, and a few of our Czar II bombs would equal an antimatter weapon. We both have the power to destroy the world many times over." Talinokov affected an indifferent shrug. "The alliance with the Luminate will more than eliminate any small advantages in technology the Americans may possess. We have all agreed on this."
"But it appeared to be a beam weapon not a missile."
"An illusion. Much of the recording may be a Hollywood special effect. We have no way of knowing."
President Talinokov's words cracked through his tensed lips like muted rifle shots. A secure phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He removed his cell and listened to the voice cracking with fear at the other end.
"I understand," he said, ending the call and turning with a dark expression to his lifelong comrade. "That was Kramnik from the Planetary Outposts Committee. He has received notice from Commander Zhukov confirming that Mimas has been destroyed. There is some possibility that our base on Enceladus will be damaged or even destroyed as well by incoming debris."
"My God," Botvinnik whispered. "But Americans are on that base, too!"
"All to make the demonstration that much more convincing, eh, Tovarish? When have the American oligarchy ever cared about its citizens' lives?" Talinokov bit down on his bitterness. "Take comfort, my old friend, in knowing that we shall soon avenge the loss of Commander Zhukov and his people – by many times – before this is over."
NEARLY THREE-quarters of the USSC's Earth Defense Division space fighter craft were in Earth's near-orbit or just beyond. The remaining one quarter could join its brethren in low orbit in minutes. USSC's four interstellar ships were positioned a few thousand kilometers out in a rough circle around their home planet. All scheduled crewmember leaves were suspended indefinitely.
On Earth, DARPA had upped the next generation of individuals infected with the super-nanovirus to five hundred. Every U.S. Government research entity where Cosmic Clearance applied was working 24/7 to assess all the data from USSC's assault on the Luminate ship to determine points of vulnerability in the Luminate physiology and technology.
Despite President Tomlinson's most heartfelt pleas to Jamie and most of her "crew" to stay aboard one of the starships, they had voted to return to Earth. Jamie and Dennis wanted some quality time with each other and Kylee, Terry and Thomas Mayes both wanted to check up on their grandmother, and Karen Clarkson had wanted her son to start a normal life with an application to a local community college. Cal was looking forward to reopening his store, and Tildie complained about missing a good pizza. But for the next few days, they decided to stay more or less together, pending possible hostilities from the Luminate.
Jake, Greg, and Kim-Ly had elected to stay in space, selecting Horace Lindley's ship – on Cameron's recommendation – as their temporary residence. Kim-Ly had apologized tearfully for failing to correctly identify the Luminate ship while stating that she believed her basic reading of the Luminate's attitudes toward humanity were accurate. Those in the know within the United States Government prayed she was wrong.
"You know what they say about revenge served cold," said Tildie. She, Kylee, Dennis, Jamie and Cal sat in the living room, sipping coffee and tea after a pizza dinner. "They might not be here for years, maybe even decades. They could be like the Elementals, not operating on our timescale."
"Or they could be here tomorrow," said Dennis.
"If it was going to be years," said Cal, "I'd guess the Alphas and Zetas wouldn't have hightailed it off Earth."
"At least the nations of the world are united for once," said Jamie. "That could raise the odds."
&nbs
p; "That and the US is breeding super-people like rabbits," said Tildie.
"We're just lucky they bought Tomlinson's b.s. story." Cal raised a conspiratorial eyebrow to his daughter. "Or did they?"
"Why would they agree to unite if they didn't, Grandpa?" Kylee asked.
"Maybe they didn't see much choice." Cal shrugged. "I imagine the Russians and Chinese have their doubts, but destroying that Saturn moon must've put the fear of God in them."
"I can't believe they blew up that poor moon!" Tildie cried.
"It could've been worse," said Dennis. "They might've decided to take out an island chain in the Pacific or something instead."
Jamie's cell rang. Unknown caller. That could mean anything from a spammer to someone whose call she wouldn't want to miss. She accepted the call, placing it on speaker.
"Yes?"
"Hello, Jamie. This is Zane Cameron. That party's started, if you'd care to join us."
Everyone around Jamie sat up straighter, including herself. "Are they here?"
"Yes. Two ships standing out by the moon. At least we think it's them. The other races have call signals, and we're not getting anything. So..."
"But they haven't attacked?"
"Not yet. You can check them out, if you want. Or come to the ship. I'm okay with you making your own decision, and so is our Commander in Chief. I'm out about five thousand klicks" – he paused – "or three thousand miles straight out from North America. We'll turn on our wing lights for you."
"Okay, Captain Cameron. We're coming."
"We'd appreciate that. See you when you get here."
Jamie lowered her phone and faced her entourage. No one spoke for at least five seconds. Then Dennis broke the silence, offering his best derring-do smile.
"I suppose we ought to call the rest of the Grand Forks Gang?"
THREE BRIGHT stars launched from the two alien craft parked a thousand miles out from the moon.
"Evasion protocols initiated," Pat announced as she directed all four starships to transition into space compression drive as one.
But the "stars" were already past, changing to a deep, fiery orange as they hit the atmosphere at near- relativistic speeds, splitting into two, three, and finally over a dozen smaller incarnations on their descent to the night-side North American continent.
"We weren't the targets," Captain Cameron breathed out.
"No, sir," said Pat.
The sky below them over the continental U.S. flared like a gargantuan camera flash. The holographic image of nighttime North America fizzled and then reappeared. The continent had gone dark.
"EMP?"
"A series of high energy pulses of some form, Captain. I can't identify them, but they were not electromagnetic in nature."
"Other ships' status?"
"No damage. We weren't targeted, sir."
"Where are we now?"
"1.2 million miles from Earth."
"Has anyone returned fire?"
"No, sir. We are no longer detecting the three ships."
Cameron nodded. Somehow he wasn't surprised. "Return us to our previous vector, Pat."
"Yes, sir."
"What damage did they do to our country, Pat?" Lieutenant Mallory asked.
"I'm detecting no surface electrical activity over the continental United States and most of Canada and Mexico. Alaska and Hawaii as well. All electronic-based communication has ceased. No direct structural damage or harmful effects to people. I speculate that a massive energy dampening field was employed.."
"Other countries?" asked Cameron.
"Unaffected, sir."
A dark chill spread through Cameron's limbs. It was good news that the Luminate had not obliterated the entire population, but his country was now more vulnerable than it had ever been. He traded a bleak look with David Mallory.
"Our main fleet is under attack from Russian, Chinese, and Indian space craft, Captain Cameron," said Pat.
Cameron felt he was just dealing with being slapped in the face only to be kicked in the balls.
"Are the ships being remotely controlled by the Luminate?"
"No, sir. I have hacked into their tight-beam communications. They are coordinating an attack on their own initiative." A second or two passed. "We and the other starships are being targeted. Missile launch underway. Missiles have nuclear warheads."
"What is wrong with these people?" Lieutenant Mallory snarled. "Have they gone fucking insane?"
"Perhaps merely fucking opportunistic," suggested Dan Mueller.
"Disarm the missiles," said Cameron.
"Proton beam initiated. Two missiles headed our way targeted. Remaining missiles being targeted by other starships. Proton beams fired. Missile warheads deactivated."
Pat spoke as if checking off items on a laundry list. Cameron rubbed his face, finding that both reassuring and unnerving.
"Field of combat image," he said. "Wide view."
An image of what looked to Cameron like a swarm of bees around a spherical blue, green, and white nest, with the missiles as fireflies.
"Illuminate the enemy ships in red, our ships in blue."
The red ships were clustered well on either side of the blue ships.
"Horace Lindley here." The familiar voice rolled in over the com sans video. "Looks like we flew into a trap. Needless to say, feel free to kill the traitorous sons of bitches. We'll help you out as we can while keeping an eye out for our coy would-be alien invaders. We can hear everything you're saying, so if there's a problem, just speak up. Lindley out."
Cameron traded tight smiles with Mallory and his crew. Lindley had a conversational style in the heat of combat that if somewhat more emotional than Pat's still tended to treated it all as a jaunt in the park. Cameron didn't doubt he was steaming inside at the betrayal and nervous as hell about the Luminate, but he'd never show it. His cool and experience were why he was the interstellar fleet's Operational Commander.
His old friend and mentor appeared beside the battle image.
"Zane, they're a little close to our people for a Proteus and too far away from us for SHEs or the railgun – too much time for evasive actions – so I recommend we stay where we are and fry 'em with protons and lasers. Gary and I will target the group in the eastern quadrant, you and Martin the west. Pat will coordinate fire."
"You got it."
Pat fired up the 10 TeV proton beams and the 100 GW lasers. All they could see in the image were glowing spots on Russian, Chinese, and Indian ships. The proton beams were designed to penetrate and overheat engines and/or weapon systems whose heavy shielding made laser pulses less effective. The lasers were intended to breach the hulls. The crew had to deal simultaneously with life support issues and weapon/engine loss. Not a recipe for having a nice day.
The effectiveness of their directed energy weapons could be measured by the number of enemy craft that ceased maneuvering and firing weapons. A display above the battlefield tabulated probable ship casualties. Five minutes into the directed energy assault had disabled 40 of the 160 enemy craft, and the regular space fleet had taken out another thirty. But the news was far from all-good: one-quarter of the 120 American ships were non-functional, and eleven had been destroyed along with their crews.
A light illuminated the ships in the battle area as if a second sun had exploded to life somewhere to the image's right. Cameron's next breath caught in his throat. This can't be good.
"The Ardent has just been destroyed," said Pat. "A Luminate craft appeared just long enough to fire its weapons before disappearing from our telemetry."
"SC1 – far side of the moon."
"Yes, sir."
Cameron gripped the sides of his chair. He didn't require Kim-Ly's psychic abilities, such as they were, to see how this was might play out. The aliens would show up and disappear, picking them off one by one. Their ships couldn't react in time, and even if they could Cameron doubted their directed energy weapons would be effective or their missiles fast enough. Even their own starshi
ps could easily avoid or destroy a SHE or Proteus missile fired from a distance.
They fear our super-people. The instant the thought formed, Cameron was certain he was right. The Luminate weren't worried about USSC's lasers or proton beams or cumbersome missiles. They could easily avoid or take the damage long enough to destroy them. The problem was that while they were in conventional space, the superhumans could show up inside their ship – an invasion they appeared unable to effectively counter.
Speaking of Jamie and her super-team, how could they find the Cheyenne here, sulking behind the moon? And the two remaining starships were millions of miles away.
"Damn it," he muttered.
"What?" asked Keira.
"We're not making ourselves accessible to Jamie and her people." Cameron gave a sharp shake of his head. "Pat, head for Earth quarter-impulse, maximum acceleration, flashing every exterior light we have on this ship."
"Understood, Captain."
"That's why they're playing hide and kill with us, Cap," said Mallory. "They're trying to avoid our supers."
"I just had the same thought. So I had the brilliant idea that maybe we should make ourselves visible enough so Jamie and her crew can find us. Switch to Harness Mode."
"Yes, sir."
The crew's chairs inflated and swiveled in the direction of acceleration as the antimatter-powered ion engines accelerated the Cheyenne steadily toward its quarter impulse speed of roughly 40,000 MPH.
"Status of our main fleet?" Cameron asked.
"Twelve ships destroyed, 33 suffering significant damage resulting in loss of function. The Chinese, Russian, and Indian ships have withdrawn to Earth bases with a 70% reduction in number."
"Their little ambush didn't work out too well for them," Lieutenant Mallory stated with grim satisfaction.
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