by Jay Allan
“More powerful than a fusion reactor?” General Holm had been silent for a while, preferring to let his command team discuss the situation while he sat and listened. But now he spoke up. “What could that be?”
Sparks looked at the Commandant. “There’s only one thing known to our science that could theoretically generate that much thrust.” His voice was timid, as if he was suggesting something insane. “Antimatter.”
“They’d been producing antimatter for 200 years now.” Cain had started with a silent thought, but somehow he ended up blurting it out.
Sparks shifted in his chair and turned to face Cain. “Yes, general, that is true. However, there is a difference from the production of small quantities for research and…”
The door slid open, and Augustus Garret walked purposefully into the room, his boots clicking loudly on the hard metal floor. “Good morning, all.” He looked harried, but of course they were all edgy and tired, and Garret was no worse than anyone else. He nodded appreciatively as Holm motioned toward an empty seat, and he walked over and sat down, dropping with considerable force into the chair. “I got here as quickly as I could. Perhaps you’d be good enough to catch me up.” He paused, but just for an instant. “I’ve seen the transmissions.”
Sparks leaned forward slightly, but he wasn’t sure he should address the admiral’s question himself. There was a lot of rank sitting at this table, including the commanders in chief of both the navy and the Marines.
“Colonel Sparks was just addressing the likely power source for the missiles we see in the transmissions.” Holm had seen Sparks’ discomfort, and he jumped in to make it easier for the colonel. “Please Tom, continue.” He thought a little informality might ease the tension. There was a lot of stress in the room, and the last thing they needed was more, especially over something foolish like rank. Sparks’ hesitancy was understandable, but not particularly helpful.
“Yes, sir.” He glanced over at Garret. “I was just saying, admiral, that my only hypothesis for the power source is antimatter. I know of no other way to generate the thrust levels we see in the transmissions.”
“Could that also explain the yield of the warheads?” Garret was matter-of-fact, accepting the scientist’s premise and moving on from there.
Sparks nervously cleared his throat. “Yes sir. That is a possibility.” His eyes wandered to Cain then back to Garret. “We have only been able to make very rough estimates on the mass of those missiles. We could build fusion warheads with yields that high, but they would be too big to be feasibly deployed. An anti-matter warhead would be able to achieve the same yield with a much lower mass.” Sparks’ mind was racing as he spoke, going over every detail he’d seen on the transmission. He was still thinking this all through, and he didn’t want to make a mistake. Not now. Not in front of those assembled here. “Nevertheless, while it is theoretically possible to achieve a six gigaton explosion through different means, there is no other method known or hypothesized that could achieve those thrust levels.”
Garret nodded, his expression grim. “So we are dealing with one of the Superpowers that has developed the capability to weaponize antimatter?”
Sparks’ started to shake his head, but he decided that wasn’t the way to disagree with a five star admiral. “Well sir, that would seem to be the case, but…” He paused, not sure if he should continue.
“Please go on, colonel.” Garret’s voice was friendly and informal. “We’re all here to work on this together. Speak your mind.”
Sparks still looked uncomfortable, but he nodded and continued. “Well, sir…ah…as General Cain noted just before you arrived, we have been producing antimatter for 200 years.” He shifted his gaze around the room as he spoke. “However, the energy requirement for creating even small quantities is prohibitive. Early 21st century methods were able to generate only nanograms, and the storage methods were crude and insufficient to preserve even such minuscule quantities for more than a few minutes.” He took a breath and continued. “Two centuries of ongoing research have brought us to the point where we can generate a few hundred grams at a time and store them for a period ranging from hours to days.” He paused for a few seconds, panning his eyes across the table. “A six gigaton detonation would require almost 100 kilograms of antimatter.” He let that sink in before continuing. “If one of the Powers has developed the ability to produce and store that quantity, they have made a quantum leap…probably a thousand years ahead of where we are today.”
“I see your point, colonel. It seems unlikely that one of the Powers could have achieved such an extraordinary breakthrough in total secrecy.” Garret was looking at Holm, though he was speaking to everyone in the room. “Surely Alliance Intelligence…” Garret stopped abruptly, and his eyes shifted toward Cain. “Is it possible Gavin Stark is behind this?”
Cain returned Garret’s stare. “I don’t think so, admiral.” Erik’s reply was straightforward, matter-of-fact. “No one mistrusts Alliance Intelligence more than I do, but it just doesn’t make sense. If Stark was so close to something so powerful, why did he take such risks during the rebellions? For that matter, why push the colonies so hard and precipitate the revolts when you were a couple years away from overwhelming superiority?”
Garret was about to say something, but Sparks spoke first. “I believe General Cain is correct.” He noticed that Garret had been ready to speak, and he paused.
“Continue, Colonel Sparks.” Garret nodded at the Marine scientist. “Please.”
“Yes sir.” Sparks glanced at Garret then turned to look out over the table. “In the first place, the Alliance lags badly in this type of research, making it highly unlikely that any branch of Alliance Gov is behind it.” He paused for a moment, considering. “The Central European League is the leader by a large margin in antimatter research. In the almost inconceivable circumstance that one of the Powers developed this technology, it would be the CEL.” The German-dominated League was a middling power measured by size or military strength, but its scientific community, and particularly its physicists, were without equal.
“Why would the CEL attack us?” Cain’s voice was deeply skeptical. “And why out in the middle of nowhere? Even if they found a new warp gate leading to our frontier. Wouldn’t they hit Europa Federalis first?” The CEL and Europa Federalis were bitter enemies, and no one doubted that a League newly armed with superweapons would settle that score before attacking anyone else.
“To be clear, General Cain, I consider it extremely unlikely that any of the powers has developed the technology we are discussing.” Sparks was becoming a little surer of himself, more willing to interject his opinions forcefully. “I simply cannot offer any alternative scenario.” He looked over at General Holm. “Sir, is it possible that the data is inaccurate or compromised in some way? Perhaps we are misreading the situation. All we truly know is that a small colony fleet was ambushed and destroyed.” His eyes moved to Garret. “Perhaps these acceleration rates and warhead yields are the result of a scanning failure.”
“Or a deliberate attempt to misinform.” Cain’s statement came out louder than he’d intended. “Perhaps this is more of Gavin Stark’s trickery.” He lowered his voice, his tone calmer, though there was considerable hostility just beneath the surface. “Maybe the whole thing is a setup.”
Garret looked down at the table for a few seconds then up at Cain. “You might have something there, Erik.” Since he’d been kidnapped and held hostage by Gavin Stark, Garret had become as paranoid as Cain. “It would explain a lot of things more plausibly than anything else I can think of.”
“For all we know, the entire colony fleet was controlled by Alliance Intelligence.” Cain was starting to convince himself he was right.
“But what’s he trying to accomplish?” Jax spoke up for the first time. “I hate the SOB as much as you, Erik, but what does Alliance Intelligence have to gain by a stunt like this?” He looked around the room. “Why now? They can’t be ready to make some k
ind of bold move…not yet. Even if he had something like this up his sleeve, wouldn’t he wait until he was prepared to capitalize on it?”
“It might be some type of trap.” Garret looked deep in thought as he spoke. “Maybe Stark’s working with one of the other Powers.” He looked like he’d bitten into something sour. “Do any of you think there’s anything that piece of shit wouldn’t do it if it served his purpose?”
“No.” Cain answered first, with considerable gusto, though it was obvious everyone in the room agreed. “Which makes it even more important for us to respond. We need to know if this is more Alliance Intelligence bullshit.” He paused, an uncertain look briefly flashing across his face. “And if it’s not, we need to know what we’re really up against. Whether Stark’s involved or not, any enemy would benefit from convincing us they had achieved a major breakthrough.”
“Put 1st Division on alert, Erik.” Holm was leaning back in his chair, his right hand partially cradling his face, an instinctive response to the headache sawing through his skull. “We need to be ready for whatever we have to do.”
“Already done.” Cain flashed Holm a self-satisfied grin, a luxury he’d never have allowed himself before the upheavals of the rebellion. He and Holm had always been close, but it had been the two of them that had rallied the shattered Corps. Since then the last shreds of formality between them had fallen away, replaced by deep mutual trust and friendship. Holm was Commandant, and Cain would follow any orders his superior chose to issue. But the banter between them tended toward the casual, at least when there were no junior officers or troops around. “Colonel Teller has been prepping them since before I got here.”
Holm smiled. “I should have known.” He turned toward Garret, his grin fading as he did. “What are you thinking, Augustus?” His eyes darted back to Cain for an instant then to the admiral again.
Garret sighed. He’d spent the past year trying to stretch his available fleet units to cover the bare minimums. Now he was faced with putting together a new task force to counter a threat coming from the least expected direction. “I’m going to have the 18th Squadron at Farpoint scout toward Newton. They’re the closest formation I’ve got.” Garret paused for a few seconds and exhaled softly. He didn’t like it, not one bit. The 18th Squadron was 3 fast attack ships and nothing else...if they found anything hostile it was probably going to be a suicide mission. “At least we’ll get some reliable intel.” He paused again. The young Augustus Garret had pursued glory with a relentlessness few people could comprehend. Now that longing was gone, and nothing but fatigue and duty had filled the void. He was tired of sending his people to die. “Meanwhile, I’ll transfer what units I can from 1st Fleet to bring 3rd Fleet up to strength. The base at Farpoint can support a large formation, so once the transfers are in place I’ll send 3rd Fleet there. If we’re looking at a fight, we’ll have a substantial force in place.”
“What transport assets can you give me?” Holm had nodded while Garret was outlining his plan. The Marine Commandant obviously agreed with everything the naval CO had just laid out. “We’ll need ground forces in the theater as well.”
Garret looked down at the table briefly, considering the ships he could assemble. “We can move a brigade in the short term.” He looked over at Cain. “If necessary, we can get the rest of 1st Division shipped out in another three months, four tops.”
“With your permission, sir, I’ll dispatch 1st Brigade immediately. They can be ready in less than a week.” Cain had still been looking at Garret when he started, but his gaze shifted to Holm. He was making big promises for Teller and his troops, but he was confident they could make the deadline. Besides, it was unlikely Garret could have his transports ready that quickly anyway, so if they needed an extra few days, they’d likely have it. “I’d like to go with them, sir. They’re going to be way out on the frontier. It’s almost ten days each way on Commnet. Someone has to be onsite.” Cain girded himself, half expecting an argument. Holm had been trying to restrain his protégé’s most aggressive tendencies for years.
“I agree, Erik.” Holm almost laughed when he saw Cain’s surprised expression. “We just don’t know what we’re facing…either it’s a trick of some sort, or one of our enemies has taken a massive leap forward in power.” Cain had a bad habit of taking personal risks Holm considered unwise or unnecessary. But this time the Commandant agreed completely. “I need to have you out there. There are just too many variables. We have to have someone on the scene with unlimited discretion.” He looked right at Cain. “That’s you, Erik.”
Holm leaned back in his chair and looked over at Jax. “Darius, you’ll take charge of the rest of the division. I want you to put Prescott’s brigade through its paces until he gets here. He’s got less experienced units on average than Teller, and I want everybody ready for anything.”
“Yes sir.” Jax’s response was sharp and decisive, as always.
“And Jax…I know 1st Division is understrength, but I’m going to divert the cadre for your third brigade to Angus Frasier’s 2nd Division.” Holm glanced quickly at Cain to get a read on his reaction. He expected an argument, but Cain surprised him by silently nodding his agreement. “But I’m going to do what I can to expedite bringing your divisional support units up to regulation strength. That should compensate somewhat, and it will give you a wider range of capabilities, especially when we know so little about the prospective enemy.”
“I’ll get more transport here ASAP.” Garret was looking across the table in the general direction of the Marines. “If things get hot out there, we’ll get the rest of 1st Division to the front…if I have to set up couches in the launch bays of the battleships to do it.”
“And I’ll get General Frasier to Armstrong to start getting 2nd Division shaken out.” Holm’s voice was firm, but his expression showed concern. “Hopefully he can get them in enough shape to take your place here.” He was staring at Erik and, for once, the decisive General Holm looked like he could use a little reassurance. “After all, we still have to defend everything else.”
“Angus Frasier is a good man, sir.” Cain was happy to give Holm the support he needed, but he was speaking from the heart too. “He saved my ass on the Lysandra Plateau.” Cain paused for an instant, recalling those hellish days on Carson’s World. Frasier’s Highlanders fought alongside Prescott’s troops and broke through the enemy lines to relieve Cain’s surrounded brigade…and they’d paid heavily to do it. “I can’t think of a better man for the job.”
The room fell silent, each of them considering the situation from their own perspective. Finally, Holm took a deep breath and stood up. “Well, we all have work to do, so I suggest we get moving.”
The others started to rise and head toward the door. Garret walked around the table toward Holm. The two senior commanders spoke quietly as the rest of the officers present filed out of the door.
Jax and Cain stepped out into the quad, the sunrise just peeking over the mountains west of the camp. Jax waved for the orderly to bring the transport around. The two had been silent since leaving the conference room, but now Cain turned to his oldest comrade, his head arched up, blue eyes looking into those of the big man. He had an oddly calm expression on his face. “Well, my friend…once more into the breach.”
Chapter 7
Committee Room
Combined Powers Excavation Site
Carson’s World – Epsilon Eridani IV
“Dr. Hofstader, this committee would like to be lenient, but your actions are impossible to justify.” Ivan Norgov sat in the center of a long table at the front of the room, his angular face betraying anything but a desire for leniency. “Frankly, I find it difficult to conceive of a worse breach of the Committee’s trust.” He leaned back in his chair slightly, making a moderate effort to suppress a self-satisfied grin. “And I cannot overstate the recklessness of your actions nor the danger in which you placed this research facility.”
Hofstader sat silently in a smaller ch
air, one significantly less comfortable than the plush leather seats of the Committee. He faced the long, polished wood table, staring defiantly back at the Committee members who looked at him with varying degrees of disdain. The whole thing disgusted him…the bureaucracy, the pomp, the obscene luxury. The Committee table alone cost more than the salary of 20 research assistants for a year. Why, he wondered, do these fools care so much for all this nonsense? They are sitting on the most profound discovery in the history of mankind, and all they want to do is have meetings and write rules.
“I would also like to add that I am personally shocked at your conduct. Whatever your own inclinations, this Committee had already considered and rejected your repeated requests to accelerate the exploration timetable.” Norgov’s tone was scolding, his arrogance showing itself. “Yet you took it upon yourself to secretly enter sections of this facility that were newly discovered and off-limits.” Norgov glanced right and left at his colleagues on the Committee then back at Hofstader. “You compromised the safety of this installation and the entire research team because of your impatience.”
God, he loves the sound of his own voice, Hofstader thought derisively. He had nothing but contempt for Norgov and all the others like him. As far as he was concerned, people like him had been holding back human development and advancement for centuries. He had intended to remain quiet, but finally he decided the only way to shut Norgov up was to say something himself. “Dr. Norgov, I believe that you are mischaracterizing the nature of my activity.” Hofstader paused for an instant, reminding himself to stay calm and keep his voice even. An angry outburst wouldn’t help him now. “I merely scouted a section of tunnel and confirmed the presence of a large particle acceleration chamber. I did nothing further except to conduct passive radiation readings.”