by Chris James
Chapter 13
09.02 Tuesday 7 February 2062
AFTER TERMINATING THE connection with President Coll, Terry and Napier returned to the table in the middle of the room. A maid came in and provided them with fresh tea and coffee, and gave Terry and Napier each a pair of VR glasses.
When he put the glasses on, Terry entered the North Atlantic Council meeting in Brussels. He turned his head left and right to take in the attendees and noted many familiar faces among the throng of over a hundred people. He sat at the England position at the long, curved horseshoe table which extended to his left and right. On his right sat the PM, even though in reality she was opposite him in the room in Downing Street. Terry looked down at the very real mug of steaming tea in his hand, and made a mental note not to try to put it down on the illusory table in front of him. He swallowed back the discomfort such arrangements caused him given the drama of the night’s events.
Despite mere virtual attendance, Terry sensed the fear and panic; he saw it in the unnatural postures, in the nervous tics, in the fidgeting. As he scanned the area, more figures resolved, sitting or standing at the horseshoe table. Between the ends of the large conference table stood a podium on which leaned the imposing, broad-shouldered form of Bjarne Hasselman, the Secretary General. Hasselman’s eyes peered out through lines of concern on his face, and he nodded as Terry made eye-contact with him. Next to Hasselman resolved the Deputy Secretary General, Wolfgang Eide, and his slighter, slim body leaned to the left and then the right to take in the attendees. On the large wall behind them, a screen shone with the words ‘Emergency NAC Meeting, Monday 6 February 2062: 09.00 CEE’. Terry glanced at the chrono in the lower left of his view and noted that the time was already 09.03.
Abruptly, Eide coughed and tapped the podium. “Good morning,” he began blandly, and Terry wondered what on earth could be good about it. Terry shook his head in mild bemusement at listening again to people for whom English was a second language. Eide went on: “Thank you all for attending, er, this unusual meeting. I will, er, bring us up to date with our latest intel…”
The Secretary General flashed his subordinate a look of mild frustration. On the screen behind them appeared an image composed of indistinct dark masses. Terry declined the option to ‘step up’ and enter whatever the image was, which the VR glasses offered him. Eide explained: “A few hours ago, two NATO carrier groups were sunk; one in the Mediterranean, the other, er, in the Arabian Sea. We know they were overwhelmed by ACAs which came from Caliphate territory. What appears to have been a, er, important factor in the defeat is the, er, strength of the ACAs shielding as well as their aerial dexterity.”
Hasselman spoke: “The carrier groups were destroyed by weapons which we have never seen before, and whose performance exceeded those of our own by a significant margin. The ships did not have a chance, as well the Third Caliph knew—”
“We must attack!” shouted a new voice. Terry looked to his left to see the Lithuanian Defence Minister slap his palm on the table in front of him, confirming his actual presence at the meeting in addition to the strength of his feelings. Those around nodded in agreement, and Terry had his first inkling of the potential for disaster if this meeting were not managed appropriately.
Hasselman ignored the outburst and continued with the briefing: “If you look at the screen behind me, this is the scene from a camera on board the USS Jarvis, the first American ship to be sunk, some six hours ago.”
Hasselman leaned over the podium and spoke while dabbing a finger at what Terry assumed was a screen. “This is an image of the ship’s hull. Now, at this point in the battle, the Caliphate’s new ACA had got to within sufficient range to deploy a new and particularly effective autonomous bomb.”
A darkened shadow in the lower part of the image suddenly enlarged. The pixilation redefined the silver blur which shone more brightly than its darkened surroundings.
“The naming committee has assigned the reporting name ‘Spider’ to this new weapon. Ladies and gentlemen, watch carefully.” The blur moved in and merged with the central dark mass. “This is the moment the Spider impacted the Jarvis’s hull.”
The image zoomed and enhanced again. Terry saw what looked like part of a silver egg protruding from the smooth metal of the hull. Suddenly, the smooth surface of the egg split open. Articulated appendages snapped apart silently, and the device strode away along the ship’s hull.
Hasselman said: “The ship’s other sensors recorded this… thing moving to the thinnest hull plating below the waterline before detonating.” The Secretary General paused and scanned the room. “Just four of these Spiders caused the Jarvis to sink in less than three minutes. Compared to the Equaliser bomblets carried by our PeaceMakers, the Spider appears to represent an advancement in munitions’ tech of several years.”
Terry glanced around the horseshoe table and noted the mixed reactions: disbelief, sneering contempt, and shaking heads. When he looked right, he saw that Crispin Webb had joined the meeting, sitting on the other side of Napier. Terry hoped the PM’s aide might gain an inkling of the gravity of Europe’s new predicament.
The image on the large screen changed to a satellite view of the battle area. Streaks of light and a cluster of alphanumeric codes in various bright colours denoted the NATO ships in the Mediterranean fleet and the routes taken by the Caliphate’s ACAs as they attacked. Hasselman went on: “Initial findings suggest that the Caliphate’s new battle ACA out-performs the PeaceMaker by at least twenty percent on all axes. The naming committee has assigned the reporting name ‘Blackswan’ to this autonomous combat aircraft. Records of the battle show that each one carries fifty Spiders. The Spiders appear to jointly generate the Blackswan’s shielding. I need hardly point out to you all that, whatever the naval battle groups’ strengths, they could not have withstood this onslaught.”
With some relief, Terry sensed the belligerence in the room wilt under the raw, devastating statistics which laid out plainly how the two carrier groups had met their fate. The screen changed again to a list of each ship, a summary of what it had faced, and how it had been sunk. Hasselman said: “Given the overwhelming evidence of from where this attack originated, the NAC recommends all NATO member states agree to the invocation of Article Five of the NATO treaty, immediately.”
The recommendation was a formality, of course, and Hassleman seemed to acknowledge this as he continued: “In addition, a land invasion of former NATO member Turkey appears to be under way. As you might recall, there was a great deal of speculation that the Turkish President had been planning a referendum on whether the country should accede to the Caliphate, and it now appears the Third Caliph has made the decision for him.”
A voice shouted out: “So where will he stop?” and Terry saw the Estonian Defence Minister gesticulate, pudgy arms straining against the tight material of his suit. The agitated, bald man continued, his accented and badly broken English echoing in an auditorium which was real enough, even if many of the attendees were present only virtually: “We have constant spectre of the Russia, always looking for opportunity, yes? Now, what does this Caliph mean? Is he wanting only Turkey? Or is he looking at the all continent? Is he to invade India? All his machines now invade Turkey, so Caliphate is defenceless, yes? We must attack! Everyone here know this already.”
Hasselman extended a placating hand, although Terry thought he saw more subtle signs of frustration. Hasselman said: “Please, Mr Valk, with Article Five invoked, we begin a prearranged sequence of building up our resources to meet any thr—”
And was interrupted by the Chief of Staff of the Italian Army: “The Estonian minister is right. These are the most modern weapons and we must react quickly. If the Caliphate has committed all of its forces to this invasion, then we have a chance to strike a blow. We should get—”
Another voice shouted from behind Terry: “The Caliphate must be contained! We need containment, containment, containment!”
Others took up the chant
of “Containment,” and many of them slapped the wood in front of them on the second syllable. Terry eyed the podium. The Deputy Secretary General’s pasty forehead glistened with sweat and his slight chest heaved in and out, but the taller Secretary General stood motionless apart from a sneer which formed on his otherwise calm, Nordic face. Terry made eye-contact with him and the two men shared a knowing nod. Then Terry glanced at Napier and Webb, and wondered what they thought of all the noise.
Napier gave him the answer when she leaned over and said in his ear: “The last thing we need now is a lot of braying donkeys.”
Terry smiled as he looked at the Secretary General. Hasselman remained still, staring down each attendee in turn. At length, the noise died down, to be replaced with a sense of awkward embarrassment.
Hasselman said with diplomacy: “While I appreciate emotions are running high, I believe this is a time for cooler heads. Our super AIs have all been making recalculations, and although the invasion of Turkey may have left the Caliphate exposed, on the other hand, our computers could be wrong—again—and the Caliphate could still be well defended or even preparing for a further invasion. We should be concentrating on ensuring the defence of our lands and our homes. I call on General Sir Terry Tidbury, as the most senior soldier in attendance, to give us his expert opinion.”
Terry sipped his tea and waited for the VR glasses to indicate that his voice would be amplified. He addressed the meeting: “The fact is that we have insufficient forces to take any kind of offensive action, for today at least. All of our countries have maintained standing armies on the assumption that they would be a sufficient deterrent to any other regional powers. And if we’re honest,” he said, trying to look at as many individuals as possible, “most of us have seen the funds available to our militaries drop due to more tangible threats to our lands than an enemy that might never have materialised.”
A voice shouted out: “Well it’s fucking materialised now.”
Terry glanced down and suppressed a smile before looking up and replying: “Yes, it does appear to have done so. But how NATO responds in the next hours and days could decide the very future of our continent, and I do not say that lightly.”
Terry paused and scanned the attentive faces with more patience. He recognised several of them, and memories of joint exercises in inclement weather surfaced briefly. But many of the politicians he knew to be inexperienced in military matters. His adjutant, Simms, had briefed him on which defence ministers should be watched with care as they had no knowledge of their portfolios, being merely career politicians, but Terry struggled to remember them. He decided to treat all of them with suspicious circumspection.
He continued: “Initial conclusions based on the events of the last few hours suggest that our computers have underestimated the true military strength of the Persian Caliphate by at least a factor of five, possibly more. If we attack now, the range of potential outcomes leaves us too potentially exposed, if our computers have got it wrong again. As the Secretary General said, of course we are all feeling deeply disturbed by the remarkable storm that has erupted today, but patience and prudence are what is required now. The Third Caliph, it is reasonable to assume, has the same tech which we have, and absolutely cannot have taken this path without forecasting what responses we have at our disposal, and subsequently being prepared for th—”
“Nuke the bastards!” a voice shouted, followed by quieter wave of agreement from a number of others.
The Secretary General pointed an accusatory finger at the transgressor: “Have you not listened to a word Sir Terry has said?”
Terry looked over at the politician who’d made the demand, and raised his voice: “Which is exactly what the Third Caliph wants us to try to do. It is more than reasonable to assume the Caliphate knows we do not have the conventional means to repel the invasion of Turkey even if she requested it; the only response we have to the destruction of our naval battle groups is a full nuclear assault. Who in their right mind would undertake such a course? The Caliphate employs comprehensive jamming over its entire territory—and today we’ve found out why. In my opinion, any immediate attempt to attack it must absolutely result in failure, whatever percentage figures our super AI is producing now. And when it does, the Third Caliph will claim every right to obliterate Europe in response—”
“But we’re not even sure the Caliphate has nuclear weapons,” said the Czech Defence Minister.
Terry saw the audience divide into those who thought the statement asinine, and those who appeared to give it credit. He surmised the former were mostly military people, while the latter were politicians. He answered: “Are you really willing to gamble on such a fact after last night’s events?”
Silence followed. The Czech Defence Minister looked down at his shoes. Terry prepared to explain further when he sensed a ripple of excitement go through the room. In the lower right of his view, the words ‘Breaking Priority’ resolved.
At the podium, the Secretary General instructed his Deputy: “Put it on the screen. Use the Reuters feed.”
Behind them, the data reporting the destruction of the naval battle groups disappeared, to be replaced by the image of a handsome, dark-skinned young man. He sat at a typical news-reading desk and the official crest of the Third Caliph appeared over the man’s right shoulder. He spoke, and Terry recognised a few of the words of modern standard Arabic. An English translation scrolled along the bottom of the image. It read: ‘The illustrious Third Caliph, leader and protector of the Persian Caliphate, announces the assimilation of the nation state formerly known as Turkey. The government of that territory had requested its accession for later this year; however, it has been necessary to act now due to pre-emptive steps taken by the war-like, infidel states of Europe and America. The Caliphate regrets having been forced to neutralise the aggressor infidel, which he brought upon himself. Nevertheless, the Caliphate reiterates its commitment to regional and global peace, and will continue to expand only to those Muslim states who freely request to join. God is great.’
The image froze and then disappeared, replaced with the NATO logo. The silence was broken a female voice Terry heard from somewhere behind him: “That bastard really knows how to take the piss.”
Standing at the podium, Hasselman said: “I think that empty, meaningless statement tells us only that the invocation of Article Five is, thus far, the most prudent step to take. We will of course increase the readiness of all Federated Mission Networking systems immediately, and those will be our main points of contacts for each member state’s service chiefs. Your super AI will brief you on your immediate FMN circles. In the event Turkey makes a formal request for military assistance, that will be considered at the top political level—”
“This is crazy!” a new voice shouted. Terry turned to his left to see a junior military attaché from the Israeli government leap to his feet and slam his fist on the desk. As one of only three Major Strategic Allies of NATO, Israel was entitled to a seat at emergency meetings on the unspoken agreement that its attendees would not interrupt proceedings and only speak when invited to do so. The young Israeli man with the shocked face shouted: “Can’t you see what’s really happening here? Are you all completely blind? We have been warning about this for years. Today it is Turkey, tomorrow it will be Israel, and the next day it will be all of Europe. How could you have been so foolish as to believe the Caliphate’s protestations of peace?”
The Secretary General’s patience finally snapped and he shouted: “Sit down. You are not permitted to address the NAC unless I allow—”
“We face the end—”
“I said sit down and be quiet.”
Terry interceded: “Gentlemen, please. Mr Hasselman, you said a few minutes ago that emotions are running high, so the attaché’s… enthusiasm is to a degree understandable.” Terry turned to the attaché, “Sir, I’m sure you are quite aware of the—”
But the attaché turned his anger on Terry and spat: “NATO is pathetic. Yo
u’re a disgrace: to Europe, to democracy, and to the world.”
Terry murmured: “That’s enough, son.”
“How long has it been since NATO did anything, anyway? Twenty years? Thirty? You huff and puff and constantly reduce your budgets and you’ve lied to your peoples. You lie that they are safe and you can protect them, that the Caliph—”
“I said that’s enou—”
“No, it isn’t!” the attaché screamed. “Fischel has been warning for years that the Caliphate was not peaceful, that the façade it presented to the world was a charade, that it would not allow the ‘unbelievers’ to go on in peace. And now, look! He has used all of his forces to invade Turkey, his territory is exposed and you, you cowards can only talk of defence—”
“Our computers were wrong,” Terry hissed, “and they may be wrong again. We can’t trust them. And you need to study history. The Second Caliph didn’t react despite the most severe provoca—”
“No, I do not. The Second Caliph may have been a peaceful man, but his successor most certainly is not. And NATO has wilfully ignored the signs, until today, when you finally can’t ignore them any longer. And now we have the perfect opportunity to attack the Caliph and you—”
“That’s enough,” Hasselman cried. “The Israeli attaché will be silent.”
A tense pause followed and Terry knew that the Secretary General was too experienced to allow someone else to fill it. Hasselman said: “I’m closing this emergency NAC meeting now, and I conclude it by confirming the invocation of Article Five and the full activation of all FMNs, on the assumption that our enemy cannot be believed. The Military Committee will meet this afternoon at fourteen hundred hours CEE to discuss the most immediate defence requirements. Another NAC meeting is already scheduled for the same time tomorrow by which time, hopefully, we will have more facts than suppositions. Ladies and gentlemen, I think we should take a moment to send our condolences to those mothers, fathers, husbands, wives and the children who’ve lost a loved one because of the Third Caliph’s unprovoked belligerence today. Thank you for your attendance.”