Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials

by Jerry Borrowman

  Jesik shook his head in wonderment. It was almost impossible for an airborne fighter to sense an incoming missile, classify it as hostile and launch a counter missile that intercepts the intruder. It’s like shooting a basketball from three football lengths away and having it drop in the basket as the buzzer sounds.

  Williams saw the Captain’s expression and asked, “Luck or skill?”

  Jesik couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Eaves certainly is the luckiest pilot I know. Still, it wasn’t luck that he pushed the fire control lever in time. Now, Mr. Barrows, tell us the motive for the attack.”

  Barrows was glad to have the additional information about the attack. It gave him a vital piece to the puzzle he was trying to solve and now he could follow a new line of inquiry.

  “Of course I can’t answer definitively, Sir, but available intelligence suggests it’s either a pirate wanting to take advantage of the confusion on the planet’s surface to raid the mines, or,” he paused to study the ship’s profile once again, “or it’s acting as a surrogate for Alturus.”

  “A surrogate? What do you mean?”

  “Well, Sir, if you compare the profile of the freighter to the star cruisers we’ve observed from Alturus, you’ll see a striking similarity in their underbellies.” Everyone on the bridge studied the diagrams on the two monitors at the front of the bridge. “I believe that’s where the nuclear weapons array is housed. The shape of the hull at that point certainly isn’t consistent with a freighter, even though the rest of the craft is constructed to look like your run-of-the-mill cargo ship.”

  “So we don’t know what it is for sure—freighter or starship. I wish you could tell me which it is, though. If it’s a pirate, then it’s simple enough to chase and eliminate him. But, if it’s from Alturus, we have to consider their three star cruisers in orbit, as well as the safety of our ground forces.” Jesik paced impatiently, the sound of systems coming back online and damage control stations checking in providing background noise to mask the silence.

  “Well, it does no good to sit here, wondering. The question is whether he’s hiding behind the moon to avoid us, or to snare us in a trap. Mr. Wight, move to a 78,000 kilometer orbit.”

  Wight shook his head ever so slightly. 78,000 kilometers on such a small planetoid meant that the gravity could hardly hold them in orbit, so he’d have to constantly monitor the ship to make certain they weren’t drifting. Of course that position also placed them at a distance where it would be easy to observe the various moons. Locking in the new course, Wight listened intently for the soft crescendo of the engines as he engaged the forward thrusters. It was a maneuver that could easily be executed by the automatic sequencing of a computer, but Fleet Command had learned years ago that people prefer the feel of employing a well-balanced lever instead of simply pushing a button on a computer console. It kept their attention focused and their skills sharp. The ship accelerated smoothly into an ever-increasing arc around the planet.

  As the ship approached its optimal orbit, the sky was illuminated by a brilliant flash of indigo. Their new trajectory had brought them into the line of fire of the “freighter,” which immediately used the occasion to try to dazzle their sensor array again.

  “Not this time,” said Jesik with satisfaction. He’d made certain that when they rounded the moon their alinite hull would present itself, rather than the exposed instrument array. The laser beams reflected harmlessly off the hull at an angle that intercepted the main inter-quadrant trade route some ten or twenty kiloceks away. Some poor merchantman might find himself dazzled in two or three days if his path inadvertently intercepted the wayward beams, which would arrive there in approximately 70 hours.

  “Direct your lasers at his sensors and then fire a Category 6 nuclear missile at their main weapons array, enough to slap them around a little!”

  Lieutenant Commander Gentry felt a surge of excitement as he confirmed the targeting lock and depressed the laser fire control. Instantaneously six emerald rays shot out from the Allegro to match the brilliant blue beams from the enemy ship. It looked like an ancient sword fight, fought with shimmering rapiers. Then he launched the missile, which streaked from the Forward Weapons Bay, leaving a trail of vapor to mark its path as it closed on the rapidly retreating freighter. Even close-in drills like this were fought over such great distances that it took nearly four minutes for the missile to overtake the accelerating ship. All the while the laser attack continued, but skillful maneuvering on the part of Wight kept all vital components of the ship out of harm’s way.

  When the missile exploded near the enemy ship, the shrapnel canisters sparkled like a hundred thousand stars shimmering against the blackness of space. From this distance they seemed harmless enough, but Jesik knew the damage they would inflict on the other ship’s exposed instrumentation, like the ragged edges of aluminum cans ripped open by a metal shredder. The enemy came to a dead halt in space.

  “A direct hit, Sir,” Lieutenant Wight reported. “It looks like we knocked them out.”

  “What’s your assessment, Mr. Gentry?”

  “Too easy, Sir. Even if we did knock out some of their weapons array, we certainly didn’t damage their propulsion systems. I think they’re trying to lure us closer.”

  “Okay, anyone care to speculate why they used a laser attack, rather than hit us with something that could cause some real damage?”

  In the early days of space travel, everyone assumed that energy-beam weapons would be the most natural way to destroy an enemy. After all, in the vastness of space nothing could travel faster than the speed of light, which gave beam weapons the most immediate effect. Plus, targeting was simple because you only had to adjust the beam to follow the target. The most creative scientific talent in the universe was diverted to the task of designing and building huge power generators capable of stimulating the solid state or gas canisters of a laser cannon to levels sufficient for the beam to penetrate the hulls of enemy spacecraft. These efforts led to some spectacular battles with multi-colored beams firing through the darkness of space. Crimson, indigo-blue, violet, alabaster and other iridescent beams could be seen blasting away from up to a parsec away. Each combatant chose a color and beam pattern that became a unique identifier, much like ancient ships hoisting their battle Ensigns as they joined battle. Perhaps the most exciting part of the battle was trying to dodge the ricochets and reflections that made it seem like a thousand ships were firing, rather than merely three or four.

  Unfortunately, there were some problems with energy-beam weapons. First, they’re notoriously inefficient, losing up to 80% of the power that’s used in creating them. It took incredibly powerful nuclear generators to create the electricity needed to stimulate the particles to the degree of excitement that caused them to emit the perfectly phased light that, when focused, could spell death for an enemy cruiser. Unfortunately, as ships increased their armor, it was difficult to build containment cells strong enough to house the amount of gas or rare earth elements required in the ever-larger cannons. It was simply a lot more efficient to launch a missile armed with a nuclear warhead, even though it took longer to reach the target.

  The second big problem with energy-beam weapons is that their force was easily deflected once alinite was discovered. By creating a highly polished reflective surface using the high-density alinite, the beams could be reflected away from the ship.

  So, even though the lasers made for a terrific Technicolor light show, their usefulness as a weapon of destruction was limited. In time, ultra high-speed missile torpedoes were substituted for energy beam weapons. Their nuclear warheads could either directly damage the enemy craft or contaminate it with enough radiation that its crew’s fighting abilities were compromised.

  Two things the laser cannons could still do well, however, was to harass ground troops on a planet’s surface, since the beams could instantly incinerate wood buildings, and even lightly armored metal troop carriers. They could also blind an enemy ships’ instrument panel,
which could never be fully protected if it was to gather the necessary intelligence needed to manage a battle.

  “So,” said Jesik expectantly, “Why energy beams instead of warheads?”

  After a pause, “A diversionary tactic to shield an attack on the surface?”

  “Obviously, Mr. Williams, since that’s what they did, but even the most inexperienced combatant would know it can only work once.”

  “Something to keep us occupied while an enemy task force slips past long-range sensors on the way to our home star system?”

  “Very sinister, Mr. Wight and maybe even true, but it seems to me there’d be an energy signature we could detect after the fact – does anything show up on your sensors?”

  Silence confirmed the negative.

  “Perhaps, Sir,” said Ensign Wight haltingly, “it’s a deliberate attempt to provoke us into a counter-attack which would provide a pretext for greater hostilities.”

  “But why camouflage the ship as a merchant?”

  “An even better cause celebre´. The Fleet’s most powerful battleship attacking a relatively harmless merchantman.”

  All this while Jesik had been watching the freighter drift closer and closer to the Allegro. He planned to allow the enemy crew to reveal their intention. With the Allegro on full alert, there should be minimal threat, even if the freighter was not fully crippled. Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye – a brief glint of light near the freighter’s main forward thrusters so slight as to be almost imperceptible. Suddenly his face clouded and he shouted, “Red Alert! Ensign Wight, maximum thrust into deep-space . . . Now!”

  Wight was so startled he jammed the forward thruster controls to maximum while simultaneously plotting and programming an escape route that would avoid heading directly into the planet’s atmosphere. The force of the acceleration knocked people from their feet all over the ship, initiating unusually rich curses in the galley and latrines. The crew was dazed as they scrambled to battle stations.

  Any questions about the Captain’s motives were erased a few moments later, however, when the aft monitors flooded the bridge with a brilliant white light.

  “My lord! The freighter’s exploded,” Williams announced in astonishment.

  Commander Brighton declared, “Now we know why they used laser weapons. There was no one onboard to launch missiles. It was a suicide drone, pre-programmed for the laser attacks, then set to explode when we closed to investigate.”

  “The only question remaining,” interjected Lieutenant Wight, “is if we can put enough distance behind us to avoid being torn apart by the concussion.” A nuclear explosion has greater acceleration than a starship. At this very moment a million fragments of shredded alinite were accelerating towards the Allegro. “All hands, brace yourselves,” shouted the Captain into the ship’s interphone.

  * * *

  “I don’t know what is going on up there, but so far there’s been two laser fights and two nuclear explosions. The first was fairly modest, but the second had to be at least a Category 3.”

  Eaves nodded agreement and settled more comfortably into his seat to watch the show. Debris from the freighter was showering the night sky as fragments burned up in the atmosphere. “I wish we could contact the Allegro to see if everything’s okay, but Jesik would bust us if we violated the communications blackout.”

  His Navigator, Jason Carter, checked their position and confirmed that they were hovering precisely 382 meters above the planet surface, with an orientation 42 degrees above the horizon. With the surrounding mountains acting as shields, this position made them virtually invisible to both ground and atmosphere based radar. Eaves had powered-down the ship so it could float without creating any noise or turbulence. The residual charge in the hull provided enough power for them to hover for several hours before activating the engine (which would immediately reveal their position to the enemy).

  Looking around in the darkness, Carter could make out the rebel campfires on the foothills to the east. “It still amazes me that we can slip in here each night and observe without being detected.”

  Eaves shook his head in the darkness. This was an old theme with Carter. Somehow he was obsessed by the fact that technology allowed them to seemingly defy the laws of nature, so he changed the subject. “The laser battle was really something, wasn’t it? It hurt my eyes to even look at it, the beams were so bright. I bet the ricochets alone incinerated one or two of those worthless asteroids they call moons.”

  “I suppose so,” responded Carter lazily.

  His companion amazed Eaves, yet again. How was it that Carter could be so impressed by something as simple as a stealth shield, while totally uninterested in the fabulous excitement of a space battle? He sighed. Oh well, Carter is a great Navigator who never gets rattled in battle simulations. So, if we had nothing else in common what does it matter?

  In some ways Carter and Eaves were exact opposites. Carter was descended from a prominent Earth family on the British Caribbean island of Tortolla and spoke with the clipped accent of his New Boston hometown. At five feet, eight inches, he was slender, trim and good looking. Meticulous in his dress and personal grooming, his ebony skin, brown eyes and tightly curled hair added to the sense of precision that characterized how he interacted with people. For example, he was an obsessive note taker, recording everything on his personal digital assistant in step-by-step bullet points. More than one conversation had been slowed to a snail’s pace by Carter’s insistent, “Just a minute, can you repeat that?” to which Eaves inevitably replied, “Why don’t you just record it and listen to it?” to which Carter replied in an endless loop, “because I don’t trust the transcription.” It was ridiculous to Eaves. Worst of all, from Eaves’ point of view, Carter was also a lacrosse player.

  Eaves, on the other hand was taller at six feet, with blond hair, medium blue eyes and fair skin that tanned evenly. He often had a sly grin on his face, like he was privy to an inside joke. Carter took that for smugness and it irritated him to no end. Remarkably agile, Eaves loved personal sports, like water-skiing and snowboarding. As for keeping track of what he was told, he rarely took notes. One of his favorite phrases was “If it’s important, I’ll remember it!” Perhaps that’s why he came late or was absent from so many meetings. A scion of a wealthy family, he got by as a mediocre student and passable athlete and was so seldom serious that it took people by surprise when he acted responsibly. Now, he was chained to this automaton.

  “It’s so boring up here,” Eaves muttered. “I thought we’d be in aerial combat, not running a stake-out on a bunch of overage boy scouts camping in the wilderness!”

  This time it was Carter’s turn to sigh. Why can’t Eaves understand the importance of intelligence in a land battle? They’d already provided enough information to the Kalenden and Alturian observers to help the Keswick Special Forces knock out two Rebellion brigades. Of course if it had been up to Eaves and the other fighter pilots, they would have shot off a bunch of atmosphere-to-surface missiles when they spotted the enemy and have won the battle directly. But, that would have given away their intelligence advantage completely. And Eaves calls the rebels ‘overage boy scouts’. Still, it was curious that there had been virtually no rebel fighters to challenge them, even during daylight when the ships would make themselves visible. Their Alturian “allies” had led them to believe that the rebels had a fairly substantial number of both atmosphere and low-space fighters available, but none had been used in the battle at this point.

  “What was that,” asked Eaves urgently.

  “What was what?”

  “I thought I saw some kind of movement at three o’clock, elevation forty-five degrees.”

  Carter checked the instruments. They registered nothing. Then he did a visual scan of the star field in question.

  “Everything looks fine to me. What exactly did it look like to you?” Even though Eaves was arrogant, he had an uncanny knack for sensing trouble. Therefore, Carter didn’t take
his warning lightly.

  “It was like some of the stars became blurry for a moment, but in a pattern that indicated movement.”

  “Hmm, don’t know what it is. Campfire smoke can have that effect, particularly with this much humidity in the atmosphere.”

  Eaves didn’t reply. He continued scanning the horizon, first with his eyes, then with night-vision binoculars. Then he repeated his actions.

  “You’re making me feel creepy,” said Carter. “Even if the Keswick rebels managed to steal an invisibility-display ship, the location you identified would make them detectable to instruments and our sensors show nothing there.”

  Eaves remained quiet for a few moments, then blurted out, “Give me a plot to the shelter of that rock! And make it fast.”

  “What! We can’t leave formation—we’ll lose sight of two of the five rebel outposts! You can’t disobey orders just because you saw some stars go blurry for an instant. You probably had just rubbed your eyes and they were re-focusing.”

  “Give me the reading! Something’s definitely wrong and we’ve got to get out of here.”

  Even though Carter was Eaves’ superior, a full lieutenant while Travis was a lieutenant junior grade, he was the pilot which gave him authority to act independently in extreme emergencies. So there was nothing Carter could do but give him the reading. But, when we get back to base I’ll report your irrational action and request a transfer from you…you very lucky, very famous, adolescent.

  With almost no perceptible movement, Eaves edged in the direction of a large rock outcrop in the hills northeast of their assigned position. He was so gentle in maneuvering the ship in concert with the light breeze, that the ship’s movement created virtually no air disturbance. Carter held his breath to maintain absolute silence, even though the craft was fully insulated against sound. Slowly, slowly, they drifted until they came under the lee of the outcrop, just a few feet above ground. Glancing down Carter could see a small rodent bolt from his burrow, aware of the huge aircraft floating overhead, even though the hull made the ship invisible.