by B. V. Larson
“Immediately, sir. I’m sure you have Fex and his ships under control.”
“Fex?”
“Admiral Fex, sir. The alien commanding this squadron of cruisers.”
“How do you know it’s Fex?”
Glibly, I repeated back the information the watch officer had provided. The conclusion seemed obvious to me, but I had to explain a few details to the General.
“And now sir, as I’m sure you have this matter in hand, I’ll be—”
“Shut up,” he said. “Stand your post. You’re not to leave that tactical table until I relieve you personally.”
“As you say, General.”
After he closed the channel, I didn’t bother to glance at the staring audience around me. They’d shifted in their opinion of me, I could tell. They’d gone from assuming I was an expert liaison to wondering what the hell was going on.
It was a situation I was familiar with.
General Vega arrived in a shockingly short amount of time. He barged through security and demanded I follow him. He had two MPs at his back, so I didn’t argue.
Gwen gave me an alarmed, private look. I shrugged in return. Perhaps it would be the firing squad this time—but I didn’t think so.
General Vega loaded me into a Humvee, and we roared away toward the mountain. He didn’t bother to explain anything, and I didn’t ask.
Clearly, I was going down to the real command center. To the ops table that really mattered.
=4=
We rushed down into the cool tunnels. The wind and roar of the engine thrumming powerfully in my ears. The MP sergeant at the wheel was driving at triple the government posted speed limit, but I wasn’t about to be the first to whine about it.
Things had changed at the old NORAD base since it had been the active center of the US defensive systems. If anything, it’d become more impressive and secretive.
The mission of the installation was essentially the same, but it had been expanded. Space Command governed all the skies over Earth these days, and the threats they dealt with here were much greater in scope than the Soviet Union had ever been.
The tunnels were larger, the vaults sculpted and reinforced. The computers had been modernized intensively, as had the general tech level of the place. Once we reached the command center, I knew there were many new levels unseen under our feet. They seemed to be drilling deeper all the time.
With miles of rock surrounding the ops center, the place was cool, but it still needed air conditioning due to the impressive amount of equipment and the bodies crammed into the limited space.
After some brief introductions, I was allowed to stand at the central ops table. Even though I was surrounded by brass, I felt right at home. After all, I knew the approaching enemy aliens better than almost anyone on Earth. I belonged here.
“Captain Blake,” General Vega said, waving his hand in my direction. “I’m sure everyone here knows you—and your rep.”
“Thank you, General,” I said firmly, taking his comments in the best possible light.
“We certainly do know him,” Dr. Abrams said, stepping out of the shadows to the table’s edge. He planted two long-fingered hands on the rim and leaned forward. His eyebrows bristled in disapproval. “I was assured he was not to be present at this meeting.”
“We’ve got no time for petty jealousies, Doctor,” Vega said.
Abrams made a sound that reminded me of a choking cat—but he shut up.
“All right then,” Vega said. “Blake believes these alien vessels are loaded with Grefs. What do we know about these aliens?”
“Preposterous!” Dr. Abrams said. “Grefs aren’t capable of launching such sleek vessels. All their ships are like secondhand junkyard garbage!”
“I never said the Grefs built the ships,” I pointed out. “I said they manned them—as mercenary crewmen. It’s my belief that the Kwok built the ships.”
Abrams narrowed his eyes at me.
I knew him well, and I figured he’d been the chief advisor on aliens until I showed up. He was knowledgeable—but not as experienced as I was.
But such facts wouldn’t matter to Abrams. There could be only one supreme know-it-all when he was involved, and that title had to belong to Abrams himself. Anyone else who offered a different opinion was either a fool—or something worse, like a saboteur.
“Why have you inserted yourself into events once again, Blake?” Abrams demanded. “The last time it was a disaster.”
This startled me. To my mind, I’d been a hero the last time the Imperials had faced off with the Rebel Kher.
Before I could answer, Abrams turned smoothly toward General Vega. “I beg you to reconsider. This man set our technological efforts back years due to negligence.”
Now, finally, I knew what his problem was. He’d never been happy with me after I’d jettisoned his prototype Hunter-attraction device. He’d developed it to attract and repel Hunters at will. Since then, I knew, he’d never quite managed to build another one that satisfied him.
Vega threw up his hands. “Shut up. Both of you.”
I wanted to protest, as I hadn’t been speaking, but I figured that wouldn’t buy me any points. I stood with my arms crossed, looking at Vega.
“The rest of you talk to me,” Vega continued. “Does it add up? Are these ships built by some kind of smarter monkeys—what are they called?”
“The Kwok,” Abrams prompted. “And technically, General, they’re not monkeys. They’re primates, to be sure, but I’d classify them—”
“I don’t care,” Vega said, shutting him down. “Has anyone gotten them to answer our hails? Can you transmit in their native language?”
“They’re hearing us, General,” one of the com people assured him. “But they aren’t answering.”
“They’ve made no demands? Nothing?”
“No sir.”
General Vega massaged his chin and eyed the layout on the projected map. The enemy ships looked relatively small in comparison to Earth, but I knew they’d be gigantic lined up beside regular shipping. Any one of them outweighed a fully loaded supertanker.
“Blake…” Vega said. “Listen to me closely. This is very important. In your opinion, do these ships represent a clear and present danger to the security of Earth?”
“I feel I can safely say that much, General.”
He nodded slowly. “I agree. Why aren’t they talking to us? Why are they sliding forward slowly, without saying a word?”
I shrugged. “I can only conjecture on that point, General—”
“That’s right!” Abrams blurted out. “Pure theory. We must get some hard data before we take action, General.”
Vega put up a hand. “I know that, Doctor. Blake, continue. Why are they coming in quietly like this?”
I shrugged. “Isn’t that how predators behave? Maybe they want to get in close, sneaking up like a cat in the tall grass. Tigers don’t give a battle cry when they attack you. They simply work their way into range and pounce from behind without warning.”
“Tigers?” Abrams questioned. “Ah yes, you’re an expert on such beasts, aren’t you?”
I shot him a glare. He was making a rude comment about my girlfriend, Mia.
Vega ignored Abrams and nodded at me slowly. “You’re right. We have no choice. Order the phase-ships to strike at their engines first. I’ll inform the Joint Chiefs personally.”
This statement alarmed me. The staffers seemed to have been waiting for his command, and they huddled and began buzzing.
Stepping around the table I closed with Vega before he could leave the room.
“Sir—? General? Isn’t that a hasty decision?”
“You really think so, Blake?” he asked. “You said it yourself. These beings are stalking us. They’re not here to make friends. Friends don’t come uninvited with three warships and move directly into attack range over our cities.”
“We have to talk to them,” I insisted.
“They aren’
t interested in talking, Blake. They’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“Are you really the one calling the shots on all this?” I asked. “What about the Joint Chiefs? The politicians?”
“You can’t run a planet-wide war in space from a parliament chamber. I’ve been given the authority I need to defend our world.”
I stared at him, letting that soak in. “So… you’re in command of our entire fleet?”
“In peacetime, I run this base. It was decided privately that in dire times of war, my role would change suitably.”
“Why would your position be a secret?”
“There are alien spies here, Blake. Surely you know that.”
Thinking of Godwin, I nodded.
“We’re not supposed to have a large space fleet, remember? Our phase-ships have been built in secret, against Rebel Kher edicts.”
“So…” I said, catching on, “you’re in charge of a harmless base most of the time—until war breaks out? Surprising the enemy, just like our phase-ships?”
“That’s right, and God help us all, it looks like the worst is about to happen.”
“At least try to warn them off first, General,” I insisted. “Tell them they have to halt their advance or you’ll order their destruction.”
He looked at me thoughtfully, then shook his head. “It’s a good idea, but it’s impractical. Those ships might destroy a dozen of our cities while we stand around with our thumbs in our butts. Which city are you willing to risk to talk to them?”
It was a tough question, and it made me doubt myself. Vega was facing a grim level of responsibility. It was his job to defend Earth. In such a situation, a commander couldn’t take chances.
“Look,” he said watching my face, “I appreciate your input—even if it doesn’t look like we’re going to need a liaison. But I didn’t choose today to show up at their planet and come parading toward their civilians. They’ve invaded our space.”
“Just try,” I insisted. “Warn them off first.”
“Our ships are tiny stealth vessels, Blake. The whole point of a phase-ship is to sneak up and strike without warning. Threats will only give away our single ace card. You should know that.”
“I do, sir,” I said, “but part of the power of any stealth tech is the uncertainty the enemy feels when facing it. If you talk big, like you can wipe them out with a single order, they might back down. Fex and his kind aren’t the brave types. That’s why they’re stalking us, feeling their way. They want to do this without a loss.”
“Hmm…” he said thoughtfully. “You’ve changed my thinking somewhat.”
Feeling relieved, I followed him back to the ops table. The moment passed quickly as I listened to his new orders.
“The first ship to enter,” he said. “Take it out. Everything we have must hit it at once—forget about just crippling it. Tell our captains to blow her out of the sky then phase-out again.”
The staffers looked as shocked as I did.
“But sir,” dared one of them, “we’re sure to lose some of our vessels that way. We can’t knock out a cruiser in one volley—we’ll have to stand and do battle at close range. It won’t be a hit-and-run, it will be a fight.”
“I know,” Vega said. “And I’m hoping that will scare them.”
=5=
There was no talking General Vega out of starting a war this time. Somehow, I couldn’t help but feel responsible. If our ships were wiped out up there… I would bear some of the guilt for that.
Grimly, the command group watched the battle unfold. The alien ships continued to close in. They seemed to be in no hurry, and they maintained a tight formation. The only good news was that there were only three of them. One of my fears had been that another dozen cruisers would appear and join this spearhead.
Our phase ships gathered strength until there were eleven of them in range. They circled the enemy like ghosts. Not even we knew exactly where they were. Their displayed positions were based on conjecture, rather than hard data. We knew where they’d been ordered to move—but we could only hope they’d reached their designated positions.
The lead ship started off the ambush. Since none of the phase-ships knew where their sister ships were any more than we did, the leader moved into position and struck first. That was designed to be a go-signal to the rest.
“That captain has balls of brass,” Vega muttered. “Whether he lives or not, I want him up for a commendation.”
“Noted, General.”
I stared at the displays, yearning to be out there with them. I felt I belonged on the line. During the final seconds before the attack began, I noticed that Vega was watching me.
“You wish you were out there, Blake?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He nodded, and he thumped me on the back. “I take back all shit I spouted about you when you weren’t around. Whatever else you are, you’re a dedicated defender of Earth.”
“Uh… thanks, General.”
“There it is!” a staffer shouted, pointing to a spark of fire on the projection. “Our lead ship has phased-in—they’re firing, General.”
A gout of energy, highlighted into visibility by our computer systems, streaked out and connected the tiny phase-ship with the stern of its victim. The shields flashed and buckled, but they didn’t go down.
“A hard kick in the ass!” Vega shouted, thumping his closed fist on the table. The image shimmered in reaction, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
“No penetration, General—”
“There! Another one!”
A second phase-ship appeared, even as the big cruiser began to rotate to face her first attacker. The other two cruisers reacted a moment later, coming about and focusing their guns on the initial assailant.
The second ship was quickly joined by a third. Together, they struck the cruiser’s flank. The shields went down this time. Overloaded by beams from different angles, and unable to predict the direction of the next attack quickly enough, the cruiser took damage.
“A hit!” Vega laughed. “Look, she’s venting! Is that fuel?”
“Radioactive gas, by the spectrometer.”
I kept expecting the lead phase-ship to fade away again and run—but of course, that wasn’t their orders. They stayed in sight, evading, but not retreating.
The ship fired again, and this time the nose of the cruiser was scarred by hot energies.
“Looks like one of the enemy’s forward batteries was knocked out.”
That’s when things shifted, as I knew they must. The cruiser finally had a lock on her tormentor, and she lashed out. Three converging beams struck the tiny phase-ship and obliterated her.
A gasp of dismay swept through the group. All the bravado drained out of us. No one gasped or cried out in anguish—but we were feeling it.
“Two more of our ships—no, three of them—have engaged the cruiser now.”
“Good…” Vega said in a quiet tone.
We watched tensely as the three ships lit up the cruiser’s stern again. The attack was well-coordinated. The bulk of our forces had been placed in front of the cruiser, while the lead ship attacked the stern. When the big ship wheeled to blast the leader, that naturally placed the others behind her. They struck together and delivered a fierce shock to the target.
She was wounded badly, but not out.
“Come on,” Vega said, “come on… Die, damn you!”
He’d ordered our ships to stay in the fight until the cruiser was destroyed. If she hung on long enough…
“The other two cruisers have locked on, General. Do we tell them to withdraw?”
“No!” he shouted. “No... Stick to the plan.”
Right then, I had respect for him. He was in charge, he was living it, and he was going to suffer right along with our best crews as they died executing his orders. But still, he wasn’t backing down.
The two cruisers, the enemy’s wingmen, blasted two more of our phase-ships out of existence. But then,
all of our ships revealed themselves. It occurred to me that they weren’t perfectly coordinated. That if they had been, ten would have struck the moment the cruiser had wheeled to face the lead ship—destroying it.
But it didn’t matter. The last eight had taken the field, and they pounded the cruiser to fragments and slipped away, phasing out of sight again.
The remaining two cruisers spun this way and that, laying down patterns of fire on predictive paths to catch more of our smaller ships. We watched tensely for another ten minutes—but there were no more hits.
“They’ve escaped, General.”
Vega nodded, staring blankly at the field of battle. Radiation, swirling pools of gas and twirling bits of metal were still expanding from the epicenter. Hours from now, debris would shower down into Earth’s atmosphere, burning like falling stars.
“Seventeen ships left,” he said, turning to me. “Plus your outdated wagon. Earth might need to put Hammerhead back into action again.”
“Ready to serve, General.”
He nodded vaguely. “All right,” he said. “Contact the invading fleet again. Make a statement in their language—the language of these Kwok people. Tell them they’ve been warned. That if they don’t turn away, they’ll all be destroyed in our next attack.”
The translation team worked on it, and transmitted it. We waited in the dim light, watching the glowing aftermath of battle in space as it dissipated like smoke from a dying fire.
“Do you think they got our message, Blake?” Vega asked me.
“I don’t see how Admiral Fex could have missed it.”
There was a wait that seemed overly long. Still, the enemy made no move to acknowledge our message.
But then, finally, a reply came back.
“This is Admiral Fex. Your unprovoked attack upon the Rebel Kher has placed you in the category of a rogue planet. You are now considered outlaws, outside the horde, outside the governance of the Central Council. Not even Secretary Shug can save you now.”
A chill ran through me. Could he be right? Had we made a horrible error?
I began to think through Fex’s behavior. Had he come in stalking us, looking as menacing as possible, in order to provoke just such a rash action from us?