At one point he’d given up and stomped out. He stood in the chill air and wanted to scream. He couldn’t give up. The weight of his role was heavy on his shoulders. It was his fault they were in this trouble. His fault they were pursued. His fault if they couldn’t get that info into orbit.
Responsibility.
“Mine,” Jack said. “Mine.”
When he returned, he wiped all of his code and started over. Instead of brewing up a homemade comm system, he just needed to blast a signal. Blast it on every single frequency that the Terran Union ever used. That blast would be enough. Then he would ride the message on that blast.
He exhaled again. The countdown rolled to zero. Would it work this time? He quit counting the failures.
ERROR
“Shit,” Jack mumbled.
“Well?”
Jack jumped in his seat.
Cross stood a meter behind him with his arms crossed.
“You’re sneaky, you know that, right?”
Cross didn’t respond.
“After all this work, and all you can ask is ‘well?’”
“That means no progress, then?” Cross’s voice was level.
Jack sighed. “No, I’m still working on it.”
“How long?”
Jack had enough. The pressure was on him.
“I don’t know!” he shouted back.
Cross shrugged and winced. “Keep at it. We know you can do it.”
Jack went to yell again but hadn’t expected encouragement. “Uh, thanks.”
“Just remember, there’s a lot of lives riding on—“
“I know!” Jack grumbled back. He sighed and blew warm air on his fingers. “Where’s Gavin?”
“The captain is in his grandfather’s office.”
“Still?” Jack said. Gavin had been in there as long as he’d been struggling to program the comm system. “Man, that must be creepy.”
“He found a journal,” Cross said. He turned to walk away. “He’s reading about how his grandfather fought to save the planet.”
Jack stood quickly and took a few steps. “You can’t walk out after telling me that. What happened?”
Cross shrugged. “I’m going to wait for him to finish the journal.”
Jack threw up his hands and sat back down. “And don’t sneak up on me again! You hear?”
When he turned to look, Cross was gone.
####
Claire rubbed her eyes and clenched them tight. An aerial view spread across her console. On it was a mass of trees, a bit of ridge, and a clip of road. She’d spent the last eighteen hours poring over microsatellite photos.
First, she took it all in and tried to pick out the interesting bits. Then, realizing she was missing so much, she went over it bit by bit. A dozen other officers did the same around her.
“Got something,” a voice called. “Wreck in the tree line.”
Claire opened her eyes. It took her a moment to focus. “Slate it up for ground troops to check. Anything from the other sites?”
Any time they found something of interest, one of her teams went out. The new armor was amazing; they were incredibly mobile and almost invisible to the TU drones. If only the entire army had those…
“Negative.”
Claire plopped back into her chair. “Davos, where would you go?”
Davos looked up from his display. “Somewhere safe.”
“Where’s safe?”
“Orbit? A safe house? The forest?”
Claire frowned. Think ahead. What did they want? To escape. What else? To get that information out. She’d know if they tried to escape in a shuttle. But how could they get that information out?
“Add communications equipment to our scan. They can still make a relay to orbit.”
Davos cocked his head. “But we’re jamming—“
“Something can still get through. We’re just jamming the weak signals. They need a strong enough transmitter.”
“Not likely. We know about anything big enough to get clear.” Davos returned to looking at his display. “They must have crashed somewhere.”
Claire frowned and sighed. At least if she didn’t find Rob, she wouldn’t have to kill him.
Gavin shivered in the admiral’s quarters. No matter how many blankets he wrapped himself in, it wasn’t enough. The cold seeped in from everywhere.
Cross tapped on the door and entered silently. He set a covered mug down onto the table. He turned to leave without saying a word.
“Thank you, Cross. How’s Rob?”
“Still out. Onna is watching him. Is he a prisoner or…” Cross let the words hang.
“I don’t know.” Gavin simply wanted to call him his brother, but there was more to it than that.
Cross stepped out of the room. “I’ll let you know when he wakes.”
How long had he served with Cross? Three years? Gavin remembered him not so much for his personality but his deeds. It was still odd to see him without his sniper rifle.
The first few missions they served on, Cross said nothing; he just rained down death wherever he was needed. Someone said he was Amish, which was, of course, ridiculous. Still, he wondered. He didn’t know Cross as well as Cross knew him.
He picked up the mug, popped the top, and started reading again.
April 3, 2702
Why don’t they land? It doesn’t make any sense. Every day that goes by, we grow stronger. With each day, we have more troops. Our positions are stronger. Even our food supplies grow.
I’m worried they’re waiting for a proper invasion force. Maybe they know they can’t win too? What then? Do we just sit and rot?
The governor shot himself shortly after I assumed command. I’ve appointed a civilian to take his place and administer the planet. For now, our goals are armaments and food.
Our engineers are boring tunnels to store food. We have to be able to take a punch if they bring orbitals in. How deep do we have to go? I’m not sure. We don’t have the proper scientists to do a tectonic evaluation.
High-tech goods are becoming an issue. We have a terribly small stock of data cores. Worse, we can’t make more. No one here knows how. This wasn’t something I planned on.
April 19, 2702
Farmers. Nothing but fucking farmers. The whole lot of them are dirty, dumb, and can’t see the tactical situation. They make great cannon fodder, but good God, if I’d known I’d go to war with sheep, I’d have gone home.
April 20, 2702
Colonel Davis has set up an officer school. The planet never had its own military; they relied on the TU for defense. I’ve taken for granted the level of professionalism in the Terran Union army.
The marines from the Mackinac have all taken command positions. Even the lowest private now has a company under him. But it’s not enough.
We explored an AI command system, but I don’t trust it. We lack the computing power to make it happen, and even if it did, all it’d take is one bomb to knock it out. I just have hope that when they land we can beat them fast.
Radar shows the same ships. Some have broken orbit and departed. I’m not sure to where. Are they heading to the edges of the system to intercept the TU?
Today a sailor asked me when he could go home. I didn’t have an answer.
June 19, 2702
They finally came.
A dozen dropships came in and set about twelve thousand troops on the ground. They landed them far beyond any populated area. We had a company covering the area, but they fell back.
A local commanded them and did well enough. They hit the first dropship as soon as it landed. I watched the footage. Maybe they aren’t all farmers. But it wasn’t expertly led, just adequate.
June 28, 2702
Our troops tried to hold them in prepared positions on the River Kobe. The Qin troops made a straight line right for the capital. We kept pulling back and bought just enough time to dig in.
They slaughtered us.
The Qin don’t fight.
We don’t know what these troops are. Some sort of hybrid cyborg. But it’s definitely not Qin. A genetic clone maybe? Or even another alien race? They’re large, aggressive, and can take one hell of a beating.
Worst of all, our armor is getting eaten up the by the Qin interceptors. Just when we’re holding a line, they bring in close air support. It’s maddening.
One flank held. I’m headed out shortly to meet with the officer in charge.
July 4, 2702
This used to be a holiday back on Earth. Even on this planet they launched fireworks and celebrated. Today, they can do that again.
Captain Mohamet held against the cyborg assault. But here’s the thing—he actually didn’t.
By the time I arrived, he had to pull back. The short little man was wounded—a nasty burn on one arm. Luckily they hadn’t taken him out. Good God, if I had a thousand officers like him. As it is, we’re promoting his sons. The man is a genius compared to most.
The moment the Qin assault hit, they left the trenches and went into the forest. Left cover. I’d have never guessed. The cyborgs assaulted that line and couldn’t react to the soldiers hitting them at close range. Nor could the interceptors strike them so close to the cyborgs.
Our lines are fluid now. We’re hitting them relentlessly in the forests. Those great green expanses are becoming a killing ground.
Part of me wonders what we can do differently. There’s never been a time for change like this. What sort of organization can I create? Already we have genius eighteen-year-olds running entire battalions. What if they were properly trained from a young age?
The TU should be back in under a year. I know it. That was always the plan. Though we never expected to lose a planet.
Pride goeth before the fall.
July 8, 2702
That’s it.
The last of those cyborgs fell this morning. Close up, they are fearsome. Like walking, armored tanks. A little private, barely seventeen years old, showed me how to kill one.
You let it go past, get it to engage something in front, then simply come in on the flank.
Grenades? I ask.
No, no, he says. You simply open fire with your rifle. Then it turns. You run. Then someone else hits it from the other flank. Then you keep going until they all come together. Then you use grenades.
But what then? I ask him.
The little man grins, and I’m sure he’s a man now. Then they die. The joints get clogged. The armor gets pitted. Hydraulic fluid leaks. They can’t repair or resupply, and finally they stop.
And then? I ask.
Then we cut off their heads, he tells me with a shrug.
We were right. By God, we were right. They can’t win on the ground.
August 17, 2702
Molybendium.
Did you know the planet New America is short on molybendium? I did not.
This is an issue.
Without molybendium, we cannot make crack-resistant steel.
Without crack-resistant steel, we cannot make ball bearings.
Without ball bearings, we can’t make machine tools.
Without machine tools, we can’t make weapons.
What we have is breaking down. And a simple metal ball stands between us and being able to hold out for years. I never imagined a simple milling machine might decide the war.
Sure, we can make rough copies, but the truly precise units, the one that spit out gun parts, are damn near wrecked. Now I’m in an odd position. I have the troops, but not the proper weapons. What will come next, muskets?
August 30, 2702
It’s Gavin’s birthday today.
Happy birthday, Gavin.
September 8, 2702
I’m counting the days until the TU fleet comes in. Every night I walk outside and stare up into the sky. Still I see the lights above that mark the Qin fleet. One day I’ll walk out and finally see them gone. It’s a shame the Mackinac can’t fly. I’d love to take her out and shoot the Qin square in the ass.
The civilians are getting restless. They can’t see the long term—that this might last for years. Even a token TU force would do wonders.
The ball bearing issue is creating problems. Is that what the Qin are doing, a blockade? They’ll simply wait until we’ve reached the Stone Age. I can hardly believe it. There must be more.
September 23, 2702
They landed another force of cyborgs today. This one was ended before it even began. I’ve still yet to see any Qin on the ground. The cyborgs don’t speak when captured.
How I’d love to sit down with a Qin and get to know it.
The first of the new schools opened today. We’ll need clever officers to fight this menace. The youngest is six years old. Just think, when he’s twenty, he’ll have as much experience as a colonel.
I’ve gone past thinking of this war as a human and a father. We need to think in the long term. If they kill one of my colonels now, it takes me nearly forty years to replace him. Forty!
Our system is inefficient.
That six-year-old will be our best officer in thirty years. But God, I don’t have enough. The population on this planet simply doesn’t have enough people to give me the gene pool I need!
January 11, 2703
The Qin opened a channel to me today. I can’t write what they said. Not yet.
January 14, 2703
The fleet commander is named V’kit. We have spent hours talking. Well, typing. His words must pass through a translator. Luckily they have someone who can speak our language. He, it, I don’t know what to call him, but I like he.
At first I wanted nothing to do with him. I talked only of his defeat, the position of our power, the feebleness of his assault. He agreed with everything I said.
Then V’kit made me an offer. I still have a hard time typing it. Even saying it. By God, treason.
Earlier in the day, one of my staff told me that we will run out of food in two years. We can’t maintain our agricultural machines. Without them, the planet will starve. Where is the TU? They should be here.
V’kit wants me to depart on a Qin ship. He says they will show me things that will change my perspective.
He is offering himself as a hostage. A trade of sorts.
I respond politely that it is impossible. I have my duty.
But when we run out of food, what good have I done?
June 28, 2703
What is happening outside of our system? Are the Qin winning this war? I must follow what I think is best. What if we are the last planet? My son. My grandchildren. God, I miss them so.
Robert and Claire—they must be getting so big. Gavin—is he in scouts yet? What I would give to have them with me.
It’s been over a year and a half. I’ve had no word from the Terran Union. I am now declaring us an independent colony. As such, by that right, we can negotiate treaties on our own.
In six months we will starve.
V’kit is coming to the planet tomorrow. I will go up in his stead so the Qin can show me the stars.
In case it is a trick I have a fusion warhead in my supplies. It is tied into my heartbeat. Should I die, it will detonate and destroy their command ship.
Is it treason? Is it wrong what I’m doing?
Someday someone will read this. Do you understand what I’m doing? Five hundred million lives at stake. We can’t starve. Mankind must live. If we are the last…the species depends on us.
Gavin stood up from the console. His hands shook. Everything he’d dreamed of as a boy, the images of his grandfather, the stories he made up—all were shaken to the core. The Qin had taken everything from him, and now his grandfather, the great hero Erik, was about to negotiate.
A part of him knew where it was going. He could see it around him. The Coalition.
Gavin ran out of the small office and made his way to the dorm. He threw back the plastic curtain and warm air washed over him.
Vince opened his eyes and yawned. “Don’t let all the heat out,
eh?”
Gavin crossed the room in two bounds and was at Rob’s side. He knelt down and stared at his brother. Answers. He needed answers. “Did he wake?”
Onna came in from the space they used to store supplies. “For a minute. I hit him with more tranqs. He’s got some nasty burns. But man, he’s healing up ridiculous fast.”
Gavin stood. Who was this man, his brother? What sort of person was he?
“You see a ghost?” Vince said with a growing smile.
Onna frowned at the bad joke.
“Actually…” Gavin said. “Tell me when he wakes. ”
The smile drifted off Vince’s face as soon as Gavin left without a word.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“So this is how it is,” Jack said.
He’d caught Gavin on his way out of the dorm.
Gavin frowned and looked past Jack. His eyes were hard, and he didn’t look like he wanted to talk.
Unfortunately, Jack wasn’t the sort who was gifted at the nuances of conversation. He was an engineer.
“The dish is fairly well junk. I can listen, and I can hear some carrier frequencies from orbit, but the Qin are jamming everything down here.”
“So we’re screwed?” Gavin said.
“Well, no.” Jack blinked hard. His eyes watered, and he just wanted to lie down. “I can send one massive burst, and it’ll blow right through any jamming they can do.”
“So do it,” Gavin said. He pushed past Jack.
Jack backstepped and held up his hands. “Woah now, we have to be ready.”
Gavin inhaled loudly through his nose and closed his eyes. Finally he opened them and nodded. “Go on.”
“Right, so! Where was I? I haven’t slept in like, whew, a long—“
“We have to be ready?”
“Yes, well, once I get the transmitter going, we’ll only have one burst.”
“Why just one?”
“Well, we kind of have to max it out to get enough signal strength and uh, everything will burn out.”
Hard Nova Page 16