When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars)

by Korenman, Adam

  “Here we go,”he said to himself.

  * * * * *

  Another policeman, a patrol officer from a local precinct, had joined the group around the bench. Now the transit agent had his hand on his pistol, though the weapon remained in the holster. Still seated, the young man had refused to move, stalling for time. He still held the phone in his hand, letting the party on the other side listen in on the interaction.

  “I don’t understand,”the boy said.“Have I done something wrong?”

  The policeman wasn’t trained in interrogation. He had good instincts, a trait that had kept him alive on the job more than once, but this was an entirely new situation. Something about this kid grated on him, triggering the need to intervene. But he couldn’t place what was wrong about the situation. His blood pressure rose as the seconds ticked by.

  “I’m not going to ask you again, son.”He snapped open his holster. He knew that, if needed, he could draw and shoot within a split second.“Stand up slowly and come with me, or I’m going to drag you out of here.”It was cold at this altitude, wind whipping around the glass towers at fifty miles an hour. The officer’s hand trembled as it gripped the rubberized handle to his service weapon.

  The young man looked over the policeman’s shoulder at the large digital clock on the platform wall. He lowered his head, resigned to his fate, and started to stand. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. A few more minutes and the platform would have been almost empty. He held up his phone apologetically, miming a request to end the call. The officer relented, taking a step backward.

  “Dad,”the boy said.“It looks like I’m not coming home for lunch after all.”He snapped the phone shut and dropped it into his pocket. The cop took a step forward, reaching to grab the kid’s arm. Behind them, the train eased to a stop at the platform, and a thousand people entered into a game of musical chairs.

  A tone sounded overhead, and the automated voice called out the next stop for the tram. On the wall, the digital clock snapped to nine fifty-eight. As the police closed in on the young man, he looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. With a small, unheard chirp, the bomb in his backpack activated.

  Twelve pounds of high explosive, surrounded by nine packets of nitric acid, exploded in an immense fireball. The boy and the three policemen were immediately vaporized, as were dozens of the surrounding onlookers. Each packet of acid turned into a fiery cloud, growing in every direction to destroy the scaffolding. They were just as effective at disintegrating people. The shockwave shattered three support columns, weakening the structure of the platform. Unable to support its own weight, the station snapped off from the side of the tower, beginning the long descent to the city streets below. The rail line began to crumble under the excess weight. People scrambled toward the tower, trying desperately to reach the safety of the building before the entire area fell.

  Fire swept across the side of the tower, preventing any escape as the platform continued to break apart. Glass shattered under the intense heat, raining dull cubes down on the panicked mass. With a horrific groan, the metal supports on the rail itself gave way. With the train still attached and thousands aboard, the entire line plummeted down the side of the building. People screamed as the floor beneath their feet simply vanished and they fell into the fog below. Safeties activated along the rail, separating the broken line from the rest of the track and letting it drop free. Emergency rockets activated on the train, sending the screaming passengers toward a rough but survivable landing.

  For a minute the silence ate away at the men and women inside the media building. Then the clock struck ten. As those inside the tower watched on, every single Sky Rail platform connected to their building exploded. Bombs destroyed the platforms and connecting supports, tearing the rails down and sending fiery debris tumbling to the ground. Smaller explosions rocked the Galactic Media Tower as the access points on the lower floor were hit. Though they didn’t know it yet, everyone inside the building had just been trapped.

  In his office on the top floor, CEO of Galactic Media Arnold Rothsburg tried in vain to reach the police. At the moment the explosions took out the Sky Rail, all the lines had been cut to the building. From his vantage point on the 200th story, he could see the six armored shuttles approaching. Even with smoke obscuring the view, it was impossible not to notice the blood-red fists painted on the side of the ships.

  One of the transports touched down on Arnold’s personal landing pad, shoving his own aircraft off the platform. Before the landing skids had even touched down, soldiers began pouring from the sides. They rushed at his office, firing through the glass. One of Arnold’s security guards shoved him to the floor and shot back, trying to halt the attack. A round pierced the guard’s forehead and he collapsed to the ground. The assault lasted only a few seconds. Before the shuttle’s engine had turned off, the CEO’s detail was dead and the room secured.

  The last thing the executive saw before blacking out was a tall man wearing a long black coat walking into the office, his boots grinding the broken glass into the carpet. He spoke in a calm tone of voice as he ordered his men to secure the rest of the floor, not even sparing a glance at his sudden hostage. One of the soldiers rammed the butt of their rifle into the CEO’s temple, and the lights went out.

  - II -

  Josh and Alexa lay on their stomachs on a large flat rock overlooking the small fortress. Alpha had found the perfect location. With only one feasible entrance, the base presented an almost impregnable position. Even with a full company, they would have had an impossible task ahead in trying to take over from the enemy unit. With twelve soldiers trying to attack almost eight times their strength, it seemed beyond imagining.

  The hike to Alpha’s base had taken almost all of the evening. After securing every last round from the armory, Josh had led the squad down into the pitch-black canyons. At this end of the training area the terrain crushed together into long corridors of red and brown rock. At the largest two soldiers could stand shoulder to shoulder and barely squeeze through. Sometimes Josh had to slip sideways and suck in his chest to scape past a pinched cropping of boulders. Dax had the hardest time of it, often needing his fire team’s help navigating up and over the narrow twists and turns. Had they made this journey months before, Alpha would have seen them coming from miles away using thermal gear. But weeks of fighting had drained all their batteries and, for all intents and purposes, they were fighting with sticks and stones. Josh’s drill sergeant would have been proud to see him. The salty veteran always said a true soldier didn’t need fancy toys.

  “See the towers?”Alexa asked. She pointed to four tall structures overlooking the main entrance.“They keep two soldiers inside at any given point. The luxury of having enough warm bodies to man the posts.”Her helmet sat off to the side behind a skeletal plant, and her hair was matted down the sides of her face. But even with no sleep and miles of wear and tear across her body, she was all smiles. Even if she didn’t look the part, Alexa had been raised for this. She was the eight generation of her family to enlist. She tapped Josh’s arm and gestured toward the nearest observation post.“They put a heavy gunner down the main road and snipers on his sides.”

  Josh sighed.“Even without those, the walls are too high to scale without grapples or ladders.”He ran a hand over his face. The stubble he’d ignored over the last few days had somehow matured into a full beard. It made him laugh. His former squad leader would burn at the idea of ignoring field hygiene discipline.“Delta’s CO found some dead space once you’re inside the complex, but he had no avenue in. I’m open to suggestions.”

  The small scout considered her options. Even with the amount of firepower they’d carried from Delta’s patrol base, there were no easy options. A direct assault was clearly out of the question, and using what little ComTex they had to open a hole in the walls would only delay the inevitable. Every route had at least four eyes with clear vantage points, and no cover to speak of. She was about to make a suggestion when she noticed
Josh staring intently at something inside the fort.

  The squad leader inched forward, looking through his binoculars.“They have trucks,”he said.“Two soft tops, and only one with a mounted gun. Where in the hell?”He turned to Alexa, suddenly invigorated.“How long until they know about Delta?”

  She bit her lip, trying to remember the briefing they’d received at the beginning of the exercise.“The safeties should have them by now. Figure it will take another hour to finish inputting the information into the system, and then another two to upload to the servers and transmit.”She shrugged.“They’ll know in three to four.”

  “So we have an advantage. They think they know what we don’t have. Even if they’re expecting us to attack, they have to figure we’re low on ammo. Maybe we’d rush in, try to score as many points as possible before dying, but more than likely we wouldn’t risk attacking such a fortified position. So we’d have to try our luck with Delta.”

  “But they had to have heard the attack last night.”

  Josh looked over his shoulder, waving two soldiers up to join them.“And most likely they think that was the end of us, or at least of most of us. Look, they didn’t even send out their truck to see what made all that noise. Delta had been turtling this whole time so Alpha would think they had the last mortars, and they were well out of range for these tubes.”

  Alexa moved closer.“I still don’t understand how any of this helps us.”

  “We don’t have much time. Finish sketching their base and meet me at the rally point. Make sure you get a good grid for their OPs and those towers. I’ve got to get this started.”He edged backward, careful not to scrape the stone with his rifle.“Call me crazy, but I think we can win.”

  “I’ve known you were crazy for a long time, sarge.”

  - III -

  Every television in the media room showed the same image. Broadcast from helicopters bearing every news logo, the ring of fire around the Galactic Media Tower continued to burn hours after the initial attack. Generals and cabinet members stood silent and watched the reports, each lost in a world of their own. More than a few knew they had lost friends in those columns of smoke. Three thousand people were dead or missing, and that didn’t include the countless others trapped inside with Hammer soldiers.

  The High Chancellor sat at the table, a half-emptied glass of bourbon within arm’s reach. Arthur and Jerry paced the room with the other staffers, each yelling at someone on the other end of the phone. Walker had been glued to his line for the entire morning, shouting orders to Admiral Gilroy back at Sol. Special-forces units had been mobilized and the American ground units were loading up for immediate deployment. But the news in New York wasn’t the worst of it.

  All over the planet, explosions had shocked the most powerful nations of Earth. In Europe, the United Federal Bank headquarters had been completely destroyed by a truck bomb left in the basement. Another device had taken down six satellite receiver towers across Asia. Brazil was reeling from a series of raids on military bases and prison transports. The coordination alone was staggering, as each attack had happened at almost the same precise moment, separated by thousands of miles. Groups—no, armies of soldiers fought brushfire skirmishes across the globe with local military. Each attack was targeted at infrastructure: fuel and natural gas lines, communication, defense services.

  The darkest news came from Cairo, where the Terran Research and Development facility had been bombarded with mortar fire. One of the chemical tanks had taken a direct hit and lit off like a daisy cutter, completely flattening the structure. The far television showed an image of the Egyptian city, a massive crater carved from the eastern side. Counsellor Truman, one of Alexander’s close friends and advisors, had been inside when the attack began. Though the recovery operations were still active, there was little hope of finding the politician alive.

  Jerry slammed his phone on the table, fuming.“This is going to get worse before it gets better. We’ve lost forty percent of our network on the planet.”

  “What do you mean?”Alexander asked. He was weary from bad news. First Tallus, now this. It seemed like a lifetime ago since he’d felt in control of his path. How could he run the galaxy if it was taken from him? It was more than he was ready to accept.

  “Jonah has his soldiers taking down transmission towers. He wants to control the media on Earth, to put his own personal spin on all this. They’re blocking news networks, only allowing one signal through. They’re also shutting out receiver satellites. Terra Node is going to lose contact with the planet soon.”Jerry shook his head, running a spotted hand over his stubbly chin. Ever the businessman, he couldn’t help but look for the angles.“Damn smart moves, if he can keep control long enough to capitalize.”

  Colonel Selena, the Secretary of Defense for Luna, stepped closer to the table.“How was he able to pull this off? I mean, we’re talking about a planet of over fifteen billion people. How big has Hammer become, and how could we not see this coming?”

  Arthur was about to start an argument when Jerry stepped in.“Jonah isn’t the first head of a Martian splinter group. After the Coalition fell and the war ended, there were millions of rebels still itching to fight. Only their leaders stood down, and that didn’t sit right with those on the front lines.”He walked over to the monitor, pointing at a report. Jonah’s face stared back from an old photograph. The terrorist leader wore his usual expression of mild distaste, and his thin beard was still jet black. His name was blank; only the alias Jonah Blightmanwas printed.“This is what came out. Not just one fanatic, but millions. All Jonah had to do was convince those with his point of view that he was the biggest dog in the yard. After that, they’d follow him everywhere.”

  “And with a million-man army,”Arthur said,“how were we supposed to keep track of every possible citizen who might be associated with Red Hammer? The intelligence agencies had over forty different groups to watch at any given time, and that’s just between Earth and Mars. Titan still has cells we can’t catch, as does Europa. And outside of Sol we have even more.”

  Selena wasn’t satisfied.“But this level of coordination, you must have heard something. Somewhere, there has to be an analyst who didn’t have their head up their ass.”

  “If Jonah is good at anything,”Alexander said softly,“it’s being anywhere but where you think he is.”He took a sip of his bourbon. The High Chancellor looked up with bloodshot eyes.“He must have been moving people in small groups for years, slowly transferring the entire army to Earth. I’m sure a few loyal grunts stayed behind to rattle sabers and keep our eyes looking the wrong direction. It’s an astounding success for them, and a miserable failure for us.”

  The colonel walked the length of the room to the drink table and filled a cup with coffee.“Earth’s forces are occupied with skirmishes all over the globe. Admiral Gilroy assumed command after General Burnside went missing.”She turned back to the assembled group, fire in her eyes.“I can have bombers in the sky in under an hour. We know he’s inside the GMT. Why not just destroy it? The chance to take down Jonah Blightman comes maybe once in a lifetime.”

  “No,”Alexander said.“I won’t condone an attack on our citizens. No matter who stands behind them. We have to trust Gilroy and the special forces.”

  “The last I checked, sir, there were fifty thousand members of the special-forces units in Sol and about a million men wearing the Red Hammer. The military is still rebuilding, and you are in dire need of boots on the ground.”

  Jerry sat down at the table, resting his head in his hands.“The draft was a good idea, we just didn’t implement it soon enough. It’ll be a year or more before we’re fielding a true ground force.”

  “I wouldn’t have done that just for this. Jesus Christ, we’re in the middle of an intergalactic war and we have rebellion to deal with? Why did he have to pick now?”

  “It’s the perfect moment,”a lithe voice said. All eyes turned to see Adeline entering the room. She handed her boss a cup of coffee
and set another on the table in front of Alexander. Her dark blue suit was wrinkled from sleeping on a couch, but otherwise she looked remarkably put together.“We honestly can’t spare the men to fight at home when such a powerful enemy as the Boxti is on our doorstep. Jonah’s always been an opportunist.”

  Jerry smiled ever so briefly, his face resetting at once.“Adeline has a point, sir. With the public already spinning in circles over the Nangolani and Tallus and the draft, this was the perfect moment.”

  Arthur’s phone rang and he stepped out of the room. He could be heard in the hall shouting for a moment. Before anyone could speak, he popped his head back in.“Sir, New Eden has one hundred thousand soldiers stationed on the surrounding moons that can be deployable in the next forty-eight hours. The Black Adders have a battalion that’s just finishing their deployment to Kronos.”

  Alexander blinked to clear his eyes. He felt the room still spinning. Had there been a window in this room, he would have been able to watch the rescue operation continue to fail on Tallus. Only a thousand survivors had been pulled from the various islands of the planet thus far, and few more were projected. In the space of a week, his entire universe had been shattered beyond belief. He shuddered to think what would happen next. In fact, he was finding it hard to think at all. Every new challenge weighed on top of his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. Alexander had been raised to believe in the system, to believe that doing the right thing would lead to the right end. He sneered at the thought. That ideology hadn’t prevented his father’s murder. It hadn’t protected the women and children of Tallus. He downed the rest of his drink.