Rumors of Honor (System States Rebellion Book 2)

by Dietmar Wehr

  “I’m still not convinced that we shouldn’t just use a planet in an uninhabited star system that’s already been explored and surveyed. There must be thousands of them,” said Belloc. “

  “Well, yes and no. Preliminary exploration has identified thousands of planets in star systems that haven’t been colonized, that’s true, but very few of those planets have had detailed mineral surveys done on them. Those kinds of surveys take time and money and were usually done in star systems that have habitable planets. We can identify the best already-surveyed planets that are in star systems that also have colonized planets, but the problem there is that the FEDs would have that very same information too. Their Majestic is bound to consider us developing a surveyed planet or moon as a shipbuilding site as our best counter-strategy and will act accordingly,” said Sorensen.

  Belloc leaned back and thought about that for a while. “Okay, so we don’t pick any known high source of minerals. Instead, we’ll pick a lesser but still usable source of minerals that has other things to recommend it, like proximity to a colonized planet for example. There has to be a lot of those. Even if the FEDS already have the same information, their chances of identifying the right one will be slim, right?”

  Sorensen nodded. “That might work. I’ll have our Oracle do a search and come up with a list of candidates.”

  “Fine. Now let’s talk about the proposed attack on Earth. Is there a name for this operation yet?”

  “Operation Sorcerer. Admiral Janicot’s staff is recommending that Sorcerer kick off on Day 233 of next year.”

  “I suppose Lee is going to be in charge of Sorcerer?” asked Belloc.

  Sorensen shrugged. “He is the most senior line officer we have now that Montoya’s no longer with us, and he did accomplish his mission at Hadley.”

  “Okay, then. I’m approving the operation and the proposed execution date. What’s next on the agenda?”

  Day 105/2545

  It was raining again when Trojan’s groundcar pulled up to the entrance to 1st Fleet/Army Force Backup Command. The carefully designed tunnel entrance into the hillside had a rocky overhang that not only protected vehicles and people from the rain but also hid the entrance from surveillance by hostile spacecraft or satellites. Not that it really mattered. It was already obvious from the last attack that the Union knew the FEDs were building something here. Trojan just hoped they didn’t know that Majestic was here and was now operational. As he got out of the vehicle to allow the biometric scanners to confirm his identity, he nodded to the guard.

  “How’s the new baby, Samuels?” The guard smiled with pleasure that a three star general remembered his name and the fact that his wife had recently given birth to their first child.

  “She and her mother are doing just fine, General. I’ll tell her you asked about the baby. How come it seems like it’s always raining when you come here, General?”

  Before Trojan could answer, there was a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder. He laughed and pointed to the new 1st Fleet/Army Force unit patch on his shoulder. The guard noticed that the patch had a gauntleted fist holding lightning bolts and laughed too.

  “Got it, General. You’re cleared to go in.”

  Trojan thanked him and walked through the doorway after the round, collapsed-metal door had slowly rolled to one side. Seconds later he was descending a very long and fast escalator. When the escalator slowed down at the bottom, he was met by his deputy in charge of Majestic Operations.

  “I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just transmit Majestic’s output to HQ instead of me having to come all the way out here in person,” said Trojan.

  “You’ll understand once you see it, General.”

  Trojan noticed that his deputy had a strange tone to his voice. Three hours later, in his office, Trojan finished reading Majestic’s report. My God, we had no idea what this machine would be really capable of, he thought to himself. After pondering the implications of Majestic’s recommendations with the help of a couple of stiff drinks, he called his Deputy into his office.

  “Did you read the whole thing,” asked Trojan.

  His Deputy nodded but said nothing.

  “I don’t see any alternative but to follow the plan, even if it does mean violating the oath I took when I put on this uniform. I need to know if I can count on you to cross that line with me.”

  “We’ll be called traitors, you know,” said the Deputy.

  “Yes, but if we pull it off right, we’ll be vindicated, and our honor will be restored. I hope but can’t promise that will happen in our lifetimes.”

  The Deputy shrugged. “If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t. Losing my honor is a small price to pay for saving billions of lives. That’s how I look at it.”

  “Yeah. That’s how I look at it too. I’d have to seriously question anyone’s sanity or ethics who reads this report and doesn’t feel the same way. We’re going to have to show this report to a small group of key people, but we can’t let it become common knowledge. You know what Majestic’s prediction is if that occurs.” He saw his deputy shudder. If Majestic was right, then widespread knowledge of the highly probable and bleak future for Humanity would result in an even worse long-term future. Instead of a couple of centuries of decline ending with anarchy followed by a slow recovery, Human civilization would enter a long period of chaos and barbarism lasting close to a thousand years. Each colonized planet would lose all technology, eventually reaching a state where the inhabitants would be fighting each other with swords or maybe even clubs for land, food and naked power. Trojan was determined to prevent that at any cost. Majestic’s analysis said that there was only one way to prevent the decline. A strong, centralized autocratic power structure had to be built that had the resources and the will to crush any resurgence for planetary independence. In other words, the Federation’s semi-democratic, oligarchical structure had to be replaced with an Empire that had one individual at the top. The System States Union, however high-minded its guiding principles might be, was the slippery slope that would lead to a new Dark Age for billions of people over many generations as newly independent planets eventually turned on each other with jump-capable warships armed with nuclear or biological weapons.

  Trojan pointed to the data tablet on his desk. “Majestic says that Romanov is the best choice to replace Stevens in command of the Task Force. I want you to arrange to bring him here. He’s more likely to believe Majestic’s report if he can see Majestic with his own eyes. You and I will then sit down with him and carefully brief him on what he has to do when the SSU attacks Earth. Any questions?” There were none.

  When his Deputy left, Trojan poured himself another drink but only filled the glass half full this time. If he was going to make himself Emperor, he had to keep his wits about him and resist the temptation to drown his regrets in alcohol or some other substance. Who needed honor anyway? His instructors at the Academy had talked about honor as if it were a living thing. He took a sip of his drink and shook his head. Rumors of honor, that’s all they ever were.

  Day 144/2545

  Drake stepped off the boarding ramp and quickly walked over to the delegation that was waiting for him. As he did so, he cursed the Zanzibar Colony administrators who were being difficult and thereby delaying Jutland’s departure. Every additional hour his ship was delayed lessened the chance that she would get back in time to join Lee’s Task Force for Operation Sorcerer. He saw the colony’s Chief Administrator start towards him. Before Drake could speak, the CA beat him to it.

  “Commander, this is outrageous! You bring two freighters full of scientists and engineers here and expect us to have enough new accommodations ready! We told Sparta after the first shipment that we couldn’t get ready for another batch that quickly! The Head of the Project is insisting that the colonists take in the personnel who can’t be accommodated elsewhere. We did that with the first batch, and the colonists didn’t like being forced to do it. I was elected on the promise that it wouldn
’t be allowed to happen again.”

  Drake stopped walking and looked around at the city in the background. This was his second trip to Zanzibar, and he remembered what the city looked like the last time he was here. There was more new, barracks-style housing along the edge of the spaceport but not as much as there should have been. On the other side of the spaceport, he saw a new building whose function wasn’t obvious.

  “What’s that new, round building over there?” he said, pointing to it. The CA’s annoyed look suddenly changed to something else. Embarassment?

  “That? Ah, that’s ah…our new cultural center. We were already working on it when you were here the last time, Commander.”

  Drake shook his head. “No. I have a very good memory, and I don’t remember seeing any construction at that location last time I was here. You people started that AFTER I left, knowing full well what was expected of you in terms of new construction for the war effort. How many barracks could you have built with the materials and labor used for that cultural center?”

  The CA said nothing and started shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. When it was obvious that the CA wasn’t going to answer the question, Drake turned to look at the Research Institute Project Head, who was standing a couple of meters away.

  “How many of your people don’t have a place to live?”

  The Project Head stepped forward. “Eighty-nine, but it’s not just living accommodations that are behind schedule. Some of the laboratories aren’t ready either. We’re not even sure we can find enough space to store all the equipment properly. If we leave it out in the open, it might become damaged from rain and/or the heat.”

  Drake turned back to the CA who was clearly very uncomfortable. “God dammit, do you people not realize that there’s a war on! Zanzibar joined the SSU voluntarily, but you’re acting like you don’t give a fuck! This research institute just might win the war for us if these people are allowed to do what they’ve come here to do!” Drake stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath and calm down. He stepped closer to the CA until they were only a few centimeters apart. The CA refused to look him in the eye.

  “Now you listen to me carefully,” said Drake in a calmer voice. “I don’t care what you have to do to solve this problem, but you better solve it and do it fast. My ship can’t stay here to wait and see if your colony lives up to its obligations, but I promise you this, Chief Administrator. If the SSU loses the war because we didn’t make a key technological breakthrough in time, I will personally come back here and shoot you myself. Look me in the eye, dammit!” He waited until the CA met his gaze. “Do I look like I’m bluffing?”

  The CA shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was filled with fear. “We may be able to set up temporary accommodations in the cultural center and ah…I’m sure we’ll find room for the equipment too. We’ll start work on the barracks right away, Commander.”

  Before Drake could say anything, the Project Head interjected. “No, the laboratories should come first.”

  “Do you agree with that?” asked Drake. The CA nodded.

  “Good! Now if both of you will excuse me. There’s a battle coming up that we can’t afford to lose, and I don’t want to get there late.” With a nod to the Project Head, Drake turned around and sprinted up Jutland’s boarding ramp.

  Chapter Eight:

  Day 243/2545

  When Jutland emerged from hyper-space near Sparta, Drake was surprised to learn that the Task Force hadn’t left yet, due to the inevitable delays that always seemed to occur when military operations were being prepared. With his status report sent, Drake sat back and waited for a reply. He knew it was the middle of the night at the Capital and therefore wasn’t expecting a quick answer to his query whether Jutland should land immediately to replenish her consumables to the level needed for participation in Operation Sorcerer. But to his surprise, he got one. The text message scrolled across his viewscreen.

  Permission to land denied. Shuttles with consumables will rendezvous with you shortly. Sorcerer will commence in 8.5 hours. It is imperative that you be ready to join the Task Force by then. All further communications should be directed to Task Force Leader Lee. Good Hunting! End of message.

  Eight point five hours was not a lot of time to unload half a dozen cargo shuttles and stow all those supplies. He expected that Lee would want to talk with him in person before the Task Force left orbit. As things turned out, he was right on both counts. His crew was still stowing the last of the supplies when Jutland accelerated out of orbit in formation with the other 15 ships of the Task Force. The meeting with Lee wasn’t all that pleasant either. Newly promoted Vice-Admiral Lee had displayed what could only be described as a bad mood and was annoyed at everything Drake said, no matter how polite and co-operative he was. After all this time, Drake still didn’t know what bug Lee had up his ass when it came to Roland Drake. Lee left no doubt in Drake’s mind that if it had been left up to him, Jutland would not be part of the Task Force. At least Drake wouldn’t have to talk with Lee during the 13 week trip through hyper-space.

  Day 255/2545

  Foster sighed as she entered the groundcar and sat beside her husband, Bret Murphy. He had already programmed the auto-pilot to take them home after another long day of work. As he looked at her face, he realized that she wasn’t just tired, she was also looking despondent.

  “Bad day?” he asked.

  She took in and then let out a long, slow breath before answering. “I’m tired of banging my head against the wall. My staff are tired too. We’re chasing our tails trying to figure out how Oracle can outthink a machine that’s designed to be at least ten times as smart. This hunt for planets to place Site X and the shipbuilding center is going nowhere. All the planets that Oracle for perfectly good reasons comes up with as candidates, are also places where Majestic will urge the FEDs to look, for exactly the same reasons.”

  Murphy said nothing for a bit. As one of the Instructors at the Naval Academy, he technically wasn’t part of the Oracle Planning Group, but his wife sometimes used him as a sounding board for ideas, so he thought about her problem. Even with the Phase II expansion to Oracle, the SSU version still wasn’t as capable as Majestic’s estimated ability. Murphy wondered if the OPG was over-estimating Majestic’s capabilities, but then decided that under-estimating them would be a far greater mistake. An idea occurred to him.

  “Let me ask you something. Do these super-computers have intuition?”

  “Intuition? No. Why?”

  “They use logical reasoning exclusively, right?”

  “Yes. You’re leading up to something. I can tell. What is it?”

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s just that you’re trying to use one machine to outthink another machine, and if both of them are using logical reasoning, then our Oracle will always be at a disadvantage. If we want to outthink Majestic, then WE, and by that I mean we humans, will have to do it ourselves because we have intuition and inspiration, both of which are not based on logic and therefore can’t be predicted by logic.”

  Foster shook her head. “Wait, how can we possibility outthink Majestic when it can mathematically manipulate hundreds, maybe even thousands of variables at the same time?”

  “We don’t try to outthink it rationally. We base our choice of planets for Site X and shipbuilding on something other than logic.” He paused to think. Foster waited. “Where is Oracle looking for candidate planets?”

  “Ah, well, it’s looking at SSU member planet star systems and star systems that don’t have colonies on them.”

  “So it’s not looking at star systems that have colonies that are still in the FPS?” asked Murphy.

  “No, of course not.”

  Murphy smiled. “Then Majestic isn’t likely to be looking at those star systems either.”

  Foster shook her head. “That makes no sense, Bret. How can we set up Site X or a massive shipbuilding operation on a FED planet?”

  “By deception.” He
could tell that his wife still wasn’t getting it. “Okay, let’s use the shipbuilding project as an example. If we find a system with the right resources that has a FED colony, we go there and pretend we’re a company chartered on Earth that has entered into a contract with the Federation to build a shipbuilding complex from scratch. As far as the locals are concerned, that’s what it’ll be. We can even hire local people to work on the project. Only the senior project people need to know the real story, and when the complex finishes building ships and those ships leave, how will the locals know that they’re not going to a FED naval base?”

  Foster looked skeptical. “If someone from Earth arrives, they might check and find out that there is no company chartered on Earth.”

  Murphy laughed. “Then we set one up on Earth using the FED currency that SSU planets collected when they issued their own currency. The entire enterprise can be perfectly legit, except that the ships will go to us instead of the FEDs.”