by Bruce Bethke
"It's no harder to send gunships to Farside than anywhere else," Governor Trelstad pointed out.
"True, but in the mines it's hard to find someone who doesn't want to be found. We'll just go underground for a while. As long as the leadership is free, the people will have hope. That above all has to be our concern."
"And we have our ... resources," said Trelstad, with a significant look at Adams.
"Yes, but they haven't made a difference so far. Still, you never know." Adams shot a look of concern at Pieter, who was lying on a table with his eyes closed as the paramedics administered to him. "How is he?" he called.
"Not good," the taller woman called, her eyes never leaving the digital readout of the little machine connected to von Hayek's bare chest. "We need to get him to a hospital."
"Four minutes," Bunny called. "If we're going to Farside, we've got to suit up now, everybody."
"Where are the suits?" asked Britt.
"Behind you, in that suit locker," said Trelstad, pointing.
"Three of you?" the shorter paramedic whirled around. "You can't take this man anywhere! He'll die if we don't take him to a hospital immediately."
"You're not taking him anywhere," Josef shouted angrily, as Patrick threw a suit toward the table. "Goddammit, he's going to the hospital!"
"Josef..." said the elder von Hayek. His voice trailed off before he could say more, but his eyes opened briefly.
At the sight of the powerful emotions contained in that momentary look, Bunny had to turn away. There was sorrow, pride, and even joy, she thought. But most of all, there was command.
Patrick had finished putting on his suit, as had Amalia Trelstad. After sealing his helmet, Adams walked up to the younger von Hayek and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"The people must not know," he said. "Your father realizes that." There was a pause, and the colonel nodded. Adams gestured to Britt, and he and Jeff began to slide the now unconscious Pieter into a vacuum suit.
"You can't put a suit on this man. He'll die if you do. I won't permit it!" The taller woman tried to physically force Godfrey and Jeff away from von Hayek. But Josef interceded, grabbing her by the lapels and throwing her back against the wall. He drew his pistol, then pointed to the suit locker.
"You have two choices: put on a suit and come with us, or I will kill you now."
The shorter woman hurriedly complied, but the taller paramedic continued to argue. "Aren't you listening? Your father is going to die— "
"I know," said Josef, as he pulled the trigger. "And so are you." The laser burned a precise hole through the center of the paramedic's forehead, and she slumped, dead before she struck the floor.
"Josef, no!" cried Adams.
"My God," gasped Trelstad.
Bunny was horrified too, but she was even more concerned as the counter she'd set dropped to zero. "Party's over, gang. Blacksuits are on the ground as of now."
"Let's get the hell out of here," Josef said. "Patrick, and you, medic, carry my father. Amalia, take this." He tossed her the pistol, and she caught it instinctively, but held it away from her body as if it were a soiled diaper. "Who knows the way to the transmitters?"
"I do," said Patrick, desperately hoping Josef hadn't gone completely over the edge. He wrapped his arms around Pieter's chest and nodded to the paramedic. "Ready? Okay, follow me."
As Houston had expected, the fighting was bitter once they got inside the Tycho dome. The landing had been much easier than he'd anticipated and after the gunships had eliminated a few Loonies on surface patrol, they'd dropped down and gone in without a scratch or even a shot fired at them.
Once inside, though, they hadn't covered twenty meters before encountering a squad of determined LDF regulars. After a fierce firefight, they'd managed to force the Loonies back a little, but not much.
"We need reinforcements," a lieutenant called. Houston ducked reflexively as another laser burst flashed silently past his head, even though it would have been too late.
"Yeah, I know. I'm working on it." He moved back around a corner and tried again, broadcasting on the ATFOR wide band. "This is Colonel Chuck Houston, calling all NDE units. Calling all NDE units."
"Colonel Houston, this is Oberleutnant Moesser of the NDE Fifth Battalion, Nordpol Company. What is your situation?"
Houston breathed a sigh of relief and switched to a secure channel. "Where are you, Lieutenant?"
"We are on final approach, sixty kilometers out."
"Good. The landing zone should be fine; we faced only light opposition, which we neutralized easily. We're just inside the north airlock; I'll upload you our location now." He tapped his wrist pad. "Got it? Okay. As far as I can tell, they don't have more than a squad or two defending here, but they're equipped with heavy lasers and the occasional plasgun. They're mostly packed heavy in the central corridor, the one marked red, but I don't have enough men to risk an end run."
"Just hold your position, Colonel. I am assuming these yellow marks are enemy units?" "That's right, Lieutenant."
"Good. I see from your map how we can enter from the east and trap them between us. This we will do."
"Then I look forward to seeing you soon, Lieutenant." Houston closed the link and sent word to his men. "The Germans will be here in five or six minutes. All units, hold your positions, but don't stop shooting. When they hit the Loonies from the side, we move."
As a hailstorm of laser fire erupted from the guns of the troops around him, Houston sat back and examined the Tycho map he'd called up on his display. Third left, then second right, fourth left, and then an immediate left; he memorized the directions to the central control room. He knew that time was critical, but getting his men killed in a mad rush to where he hoped the rebel leadership was holed up wasn't going to do any good either. Waiting, he thought, was always the hardest part.
Secure channels weren't always secure, however, especially when the eavesdroppers knew your routine. Knowing the standard UN protocol, Bunny had left a channel open to the ATFOR wide band, and as the small band of Free State leaders and LDF personnel left the governor's office and headed for the teleporters, she was stunned to hear a voice she recognized calling over the frequencies.
"Colonel Houston, this is Oberleutnant Moesser," she heard. Then the voices dropped out, no doubt as Houston switched the link to another channel. She tried three different channels that Houston had used before at Grimaldi and Imbrium, then finally a fourth, and was relieved to hear the harsh, distorted sound of a scrambled conversation.
She'd asked Josef if she could keep her ATFOR comm unit, but not trusting her, he'd refused the request on the grounds that he didn't want her able to converse with her former comrades undetected. However, she did manage to convince him to let her keep the descrambler, just for this very purpose. She tried the 82nd's standard code and was immediately rewarded as the warped, distorted sounds metamorphosed into normal speech.
"Just hold your position," the German was saying. Bunny listened to the rest of the conversation as she ran and called up her own display. It wasn't hard to tell where the ATFOR troops were pinned down, but she froze as she realized that the path her group was taking to the transporters would intersect the entry point of the NDE force at the east side airlock.
"Stop!" she cried, and quickly filled Josef and the others in on what she'd learned.
"Dammit," said Patrick. We don't have time to double back and take the other elevator up to the first floor. We'll just have to fight our way through."
"Through Blacksuits? With you and her?" Josef indicated Trelstad. "We'll never make it."
"So what do you suggest? The only other path would take us right by the north airlock. That's where our guys are keeping ATFOR pinned down." Adams wasn't a military man, but it didn't take a genius to know that running through the middle of a firefight was a bad idea.
"We instruct our fighters to fall back toward the core; then we can make a run behind ATFOR. It's our only chance. Besides, we can't just
leave our guys where they are. They'll get hit by Blacksuits in a few minutes."
"Risky," Bunny warned. "If we time it wrong, we're screwed."
"Yeah, well, the other choice is to surrender, and that's no option either," Josef said. "We're going for it and that's final. I'll upload a redline to everyone's maps. Patrick, who's in charge of our forces inside the dome?"
"Major Thompson, sir," said one of the Alphans.
"No, he's stationed outside. Damn. Well, I'll just signal retreat on the wide band."
"Alphans should be used to retreating," Britt said, drawing nasty glares from both Alphans.
One of them spoke up. "Sir, you might try contacting Lieutenant Asari. If Thompson isn't there, she'd be in charge."
"Okay," said von Hayek. He looked at the paramedic, who was kneeling over his father's body, checking his vital signs. "How's he doing?"
"Not good. I'm sorry, but there doesn't seem to be a heartbeat. Maybe the indicators are defective, but—"
"No, they're not." Josef's voice was icy and determined. "Just make sure you don't drop him. Now let's go!" Without looking back at his father or anyone else, Josef began to run toward the elevator at the end of the hall.
The Loonies were starting to fall back, Houston noticed, and he could almost feel the tension in his men as they waited for the order to pursue and turn the retreat into a rout. But something wasn't right; it was a little too soon for the NDE forces to have arrived, and besides, the Loonies' withdrawal was orderly and methodical.
"Forward, but watch it." He decided to play this one carefully. "Leapfrog it slow, and keep an eye out for booby traps." Dome combat inevitably turned into this slow, deadly game of careful hopscotch played for keeps, very much like the house-to-house drill back on Earth.
He kept his ACR up and wished he dared to turn on his suit's radar. Then he laughed. What the hell. The Loonies already knew where they were, and by turning on the tight radius he could avoid getting ambushed before the Germans arrived.
When he activated his radar, he was confused. Six isolated yellow dots were scattered about the corridors before him. But just behind his location was a clump of eight or nine dots, moving rapidly—
Houston whirled and fired from the hip at the white-suited figures running through the hallway he'd just vacated. There was a blue flash, and he knew he'd hit one of them, but he didn't wait to see more, instead diving and rolling to avoid the laser beams that were sparking down the corridor toward him.
One beam nicked his shields, but he was otherwise unscathed, and he shouted to his men on the wide band. "Squad Two, hold your position. Squad One, follow me. They're behind us!"
"Rearguard action!" Josef shouted to Bunny. "You and your squad cover us, then withdraw! Britt, Chen, with me!" Josef kept running toward the teleporters, followed by Adams, Trelstad, and the medic, carrying Pieter. Bunny dropped into a defensive position and signalled Dalton, Jeff, and the other Alphan to find cover on either side of the hall. A moment later, the pursuing Bluesuits came into view.
For five furious minutes, Bunny's squad managed to fight Houston's men to a standstill and halt the ATFOR advance, losing only the Alphan and killing at least two overconfident Bluesuits. But then, in the red flash of a laser burst exploding against a wall, Dalton caught sight of a black battlesuit.
"Bunny, Blacksuits are here," he shouted. "Time to bug out!"
"Right. Fall back, everyone. To the teleports." Bunny turned and ran as fast as the servomechanically enhanced suit would take her. It wasn't until they reached the transport room and slammed the door behind them that Bunny realized she had no idea which of the two transporters went to Farside.
"You want me to pick a number again?" Dalton asked. "Worked pretty well last time."
"We've got at least a little time," Bunny said. "Can't you use that gadget of yours to figure out how these things are programmed?"
Dalton held up his norton. "If you can tell me where to put it, sure." Bunny looked at the units but saw no slot or anything that even looked like a data readout. As she went over the transporter on the left, Jeff was busily examining the other one. Dalton sighed and withdrew another object from his utility belt, then tapped Jeff on the shoulder. It took him only seconds to complete his task.
"Okay, we're done. We'll take the left pad." Dalton drew his ACR from his utility belt.
Bunny looked up. "Done with what?" "We set a grenade next to this pad. Now jump before it goes off."
"But we don't even know if the teleports can be destroyed!" Bunny protested.
"Yeah, well, tell you what. I don't plan to stick around to find out. If you want, you can wait thirty seconds and tell me." He politely gestured to Jeff, who quickly leaped into the first teleporter and disappeared. Surprised, Bunny stared at Dalton for a moment, then hastily followed Jeff.
Twenty seconds later, a team of NDE engineers examining the MANTA receiver units at Port Aldrin were suddenly surprised by a violent explosion in their midst. The sole survivor later told his commanding officer the blast had come out of nowhere.
Chuck Houston heard the explosion, but fortunately his shields held up against the fragments of the metal door that were hurled against him. He entered the transporter room cautiously and eyed the remaining teleporter with some misgivings.
He contacted the NDE commander.
"Yes, Colonel Houston?" came the polite response.
"Lieutenant Moesser, a group of rebels has escaped through one of these portal devices. I suspect the defense forces engaging us to the south were a diversionary tactic and the rebel leaders may have escaped this way. My belief is that we should follow them."
There was a brief pause. "My orders are to secure this dome, not to pursue. You may do as you wish, Colonel, but none of the NDE forces will leave Tycho until I receive direct orders to that effect."
"I understand. Then we will pursue on our own. And thank you for your timely assistance, Lieutenant."
"It was my duty, nothing more, Colonel." The NDE officer closed the link, leaving Houston to gather his thoughts as he ordered Squad Two to break off their attack and join him at the transports.
UN Headquarters, New York
26 November 2069
1:00 P.M. EST
The chairmen of two of the most powerful United Nations committees were sitting together in Aguila's new office, both feeling rather helpless in the face of the German treachery.
"We should have known better than to trust them," said Chairman Wu. "We should have used Chinese troops."
Antonio, who had successfully argued against that option, didn't say anything. He might have said something about hindsight being twenty-twenty, but he thought it best to remain silent.
"Of course, had things gone wrong then, the blame would have fallen on my shoulders," Wu said. "At least this way, we can lay the burden at Edward's feet. He won't mind, I'm sure." Wu leaned back in the expensive genuine leather chair and withdrew a cigarette from a gold case. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all," said Antonio, making a mental note to have the office fumigated as soon as the crisis was over. Normally he didn't allow anyone to smoke in his offices, but he didn't think this was the time to make a fuss about it. Instead he opened his liquor cabinet and withdrew a bottle of Haversham's best scotch. "Care for a finger?"
"Two," said the Chinese official. "The question is, how do we break the news to the Security Council. It would be best if we had a solution to offer them."
"I agree." Antonio closed his eyes and took a delicate sip. "There's only two hundred and fifty NDE soldiers up there. They have no means of reinforcement except through us. How many low-G trained troops could we draft into ATFOR in the next, oh, week or so?"
"China has five thousand. America has more, but their House of Representatives has already voted to pull out of ATFOR. The president remains on our side, as does the Senate, but I predict that they'll cave to their constituents' pressure."
Antonio nodded. "Yes, you're right, no doubt. But the
obvious question that will come up in the Security Council meeting will be whether China won't simply attempt to do the same thing the Germans have done. I think the Americans will veto."
Wu shrugged. "Then the pressure to provide a solution will be off of us, at least. The fact is it will take either the Chinese, the Russians, or the Americans to fight the Germans. No one else can do it."
"You're right." Then the familiar chirp sounded. "Excuse me, I have a call."
General Daniels appeared on his screen. "I have a relay for you, Chairman Aguila. One of my colonels believes he is close to capturing von Hayek and the rest of the rebel leadership. Will you speak with him?"
"Send him through, by all means!" Aguila turned and smiled at Chairman Wu. "Perhaps we may find an easier solution, using the troops we already have." He turned back to the comm screen. "Greetings, Colonel! I hear you have interesting news for us!"
Chapter 23
Farside, Luna
26 November 2069
18:00 GMT
Dalton glanced wildly about as he materialized in a small dark chamber. The walls looked as if they'd been carved out of stone, and ahead of him he could see Bunny walking down the corridor to join Jeff at the entrance to another room. He quickly joined them near two large pillars that framed a path leading to a metal door at the end of the hall. On either side of them, he could see bronze panels that seemed to indicate some kind of human activity here, but there were no other signs of life, or of Josef and the other rebels.
"What do you think?" Bunny asked them.
"We could just keep going, I guess," Jeff said.
"Yeah, we'd better not wait here, just in case that grenade didn't blow up the transport that brought us here," Dalton added.
"Good point," Bunny said, and she walked toward the end of the hall.
The door opened, and they saw another door just a few meters ahead. They opened that one too and entered a large chamber with yellow warning strips lining either side of a red pathway that led to an elevator at the far end of the room. Bunny and Jeff started forward, but Dalton stopped, noticing some large black computers on a ledge to the right.