by John Ringo
They stopped at a balk line and a male wearing complex vestments started speaking, apparently for the queen.
“Negotiations,” Weaver muttered. “This should be interesting.”
“Just remember, sir,” the first sergeant said. “There’s going to be that one thing they really want from us. All we have to do is figure out what it is, whether we’re willing to do it and how much they’re willing to pay. The essence of negotiation is control. Find out what you control and what you don’t and you win. I think the reception we got says it all. These people are scared.”
“I’d rather be defending a scientific paper,” Weaver said.
“Lots of fun, sir?” Top asked.
“Brutal.”
“Brutal.”
They’d managed to get the claw away from Lady Che-chee with some more jewels and the, honest, statement that they wished to examine it. Apparently the one specimen that was brought back by the patrol survivor had been distributed, packed in alcohol, to every major lord in the land.
This claw was nineteen centimeters from the “ankle” to the tip of the longest claw. Dr. Robertson picked up the thing and pulled out some material she’d borrowed from the geology lab. It was a kit designed to test mineral hardness. She’d been informed of the claw marks in the limestone so she skipped right up to glass.
“Scores it,” she said, moving up to sapphire, the material of aliglass.
“Damn,” Master Sergeant Bartlett said. The claw hadn’t just scratched the sapphire, it had deeply gouged it.
“That’s bad,” Dr. Robertson said.
“Absolutely,” Bartlett said. “What is that stuff? I don’t know anything biological that is that strong!”
“Anything producible by machinery is producible by biology,” Dr. Robertson said. “Did you imagine the Dreen?”
“No,” Bartlett said. “But they also didn’t make anything that strong. Their armor was based on fibrous polymers like Kevlar. That’s high hardness refractory material, Doctor.”
“And what is it?” she asked quizzically. “I think we’re going to have to turn it over to engineering or bio to figure out. Tchar, perhaps.”
“If we can get a sample,” Bartlett said, picking up a diamond saw. It skittered over the surface of the material but didn’t penetrate. “It’s stronger than diamond.”
“Yes,” Dr. Robertson said. “We need to communicate that to the Marines immediately. And get this down to engineering to see if they have anything that can take a sample.”
“He’s the high priest of the local religion,” Miriam said. “Despite that fact, he started off by stating that both the secular authorities and religious agree that the Demons were not caused by our arrival. They believe that the Demons were sent to punish this city, and possibly this region, for various blasphemies. The most interesting one I thought was ‘rebellion against the crown.’ ”
“Divine right,” Weaver said, wincing. “We need to keep a close eye on that or we might tread on a nascent democratic revolution.”
“This appears to be a rebellion by some outer area lords,” Miriam said. “Over taxes.”
“Doesn’t sound like William Wallace to me, sir,” the first sergeant said.
“We need to know more about the religious aspect,” Captain MacDonald said. “The high priest represents the establishment. Is there a fundamentalist strain that is a security threat? We don’t need to be fighting demons on one side and Cheerick on the other.”
“I can’t ask that in open Court, Captain,” Miriam said, then began chittering.
“I told them that we’re glad that they have determined we are not the problem and that we wished to open relations with them on a friendly level.”
The high priest chittered for a while, then stopped, at which point the queen stood up and began speaking.
“Oh, no,” Miriam muttered as she finished.
“What?” Weaver asked.
“They’re more or less willing to open up to trade or whatever we want,” Miriam said. “Alliance, troops, supplies, you name it. But they want us to try to rid them of the scourge of the Demons.”
28
The Lady, She’s a Mother
“Oh, hell no,” Captain Blankemeier said. “One ship. Twenty Marines. And that’s what’s left. Have you seen Dr. Robertson’s report?”
“No, sir,” Weaver said. “I haven’t downloaded recently.”
The humans had, quite reasonably from the queen’s perspective, asked for time to communicate with their commander. They’d been led to a room that appeared to be immune to eavesdropping for their colloquy. Miller and Top had checked it out and found two “sound holes” hidden behind tapestries. On the other hand, everyone in the group could subvocalize so they did.
“That Demon claw? It’s an advanced composite that’s going to cut through Wyvern armor. Not quite like butter, but it’s gonna cut it. Not to mention—”
“Steel, sir,” Bill said. “Damn. Sir, the point is, if we make a treaty of mutual respect and admiration then just leave, there’s not going to be a government to come back to.”
“And we’re unlikely to be able to stop that,” Captain MacDonald said. “Not with my Marines. I’ve seen the tapestry, Commander Weaver. That looks one hell of a lot like a Dreen wave, even if they’re not Dreen.”
“Sir, I’m arguing for reasons other than just knight errant, I assure you,” Commander Weaver said. “I think, though, that I need to express them in person.”
“Very well, Commander,” the captain said. “Tell the powers that be that their request is under consideration and return to the ship. Bring the first sergeant with you.”
“If I may, sir,” Captain MacDonald interjected. “I’m going to send a replacement team for Two Charlie from Third. They can bring supplies for Miss Moon and Chief Miller.”
“Any advance on the bio side, sir?” Miller asked. “Is any of this food safe to eat?”
“I don’t think Dr. Robertson has had time to check,” the CO said. “I’ll ask if there’s any way to advance that. In the meantime, stick with MREs, Chief Miller.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Commander Weaver,” the CO said. “When you get back here you’d better have a pretty compelling argument why I should risk the only starship the Alliance has on what looks to me like a forlorn hope. If not, we’re going to stay here no more than seventy-two hours, complete our survey and then head for Earth with the information.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Vorpal Blade, out.”
“And do you have a compelling argument, sir?” the first sergeant asked.
“I don’t know,” the commander admitted. “But I sure hope so.”
“Then remember what I said about negotiation,” Top replied, smiling. “It works with commanders, too, Commander.”
“You sound as if you want to stay and fight,” Commander Weaver said.
“Don’t have a dog in that fight, sir,” the first sergeant said.
“If anyone does, it’s the Marines,” Commander Weaver argued.
“If I worried about where I was going to be tomorrow, or whether being there was going to get me into a fight, or killed, I would have gotten out of this job a long time ago, sir,” Top said. “Stay or go, that’s a discussion for you and the CO and the Old Man, sir. Don’t care one way or the other. A Marine goes where ordered and faithfully performs his duties. That’s the whole point of the motto, sir.”
“Okay, now I’ve seen some weird maulk…” Runner said.
“Like armored crab octopuses?” Staff Sergeant Kristopher said. “Or are you talking about shipwrecking gravity waves? Or regions of space that cause up to be down and right to be up? Or maybe partially terraformed worlds? Layers of oil in gas giants?”
“All of that,” Runner said. “And it’s not exactly oil but… Oh, never mind. Damn, I wish Dr. Dean was here—”
“What is it?” Kristopher asked, walking over to the master sergeant’s station.
&nb
sp; “Seismic activity,” Runner said, pointing. “Okay, P waves from a distant earthquake. Deep one, too. Surface quakes in mountain ranges, got that. Got some S waves coming from that mountain range east of here. This is probably that big-ass volcano we saw…
“But this is what’s getting me,” he continued, pointing at a series of small indicators and zooming in on them. “They’re pinpointed near that big rock. And they appear to be moving, slowly. They’re real faint, though.”
“What the grapp?” Kristopher said. “I’ve seen something like that before…”
“I’m glad you have, cause it’s got me stumped,” Runner said. “Where?”
“I cannot for the life of me remember,” Kristopher said. “I seem to remember being told to filter it out. But I can’t remember where or why. But it wasn’t any big deal, I remember that.”
“Oh, great,” Runner said. “On Earth it’s no big deal. Well, I’m going to kick it up to Dr. Beach.”
“I don’t recognize it,” Dr. Beach said, frowning. “It’s certainly interesting, isn’t it? But it’s not at a level that would normally be called seismic. It almost looks like truck traffic.”
“Frequency is wrong,” Runner said, bringing up a pop-up and sorting through the list of known low-impact seismic events. “This is truck traffic. Low-frequency rumble. It’s close to small-tube magma movement. This… I don’t have anything like it.”
“Too bad we lost Dr. Dean,” Dr. Beach said. “I know you didn’t get along, but—”
“I tried to stop him from going that way, Doctor,” Runner said. “It was a professional failure on my part that he died. And I also recognized that we needed him. This is only one example. That hill over there is another. I keep thinking that if I could figure out how a basolith appeared without any secondary indicators I could determine what this is. But neither of them make sense.”
“Keep an eye on it,” Dr. Beach said. “If it is some sort of slowly moving mini-fault, we don’t want any damage to the ship.”
“Especially since the nearest rumble is less than a kilometer away.”
“Tough day, Weaver?” the CO asked as Commander Weaver entered his office. Weaver had thrown on his uniform over his blacksuit but his hair was still plastered with sweat.
“Long one, at least,” Weaver said. “I hated leaving Miller behind. He’s like a right arm.”
“So I’d like your argument for staying,” the CO said. “I feel I owe you that. But be aware that I’m pretty much set on leaving and letting D.C. decide. Among other things, I feel it’s over my paygrade to set up long-term treaties.”
“Understood, sir,” Bill said, rubbing his forehead. “My first argument is the one that I stated. The records of these people indicate that demon break-outs tend to occur when they get too advanced or something along those lines. Maybe population density. They don’t know what causes it and we don’t either. But they’re here, now, and if we make a treaty with this group and then leave it’s a waste of paper. They won’t be here when we get back.”
“Got that one,” the CO said. “And while I feel for them—”
“There’s a PR aspect, sir,” Weaver said, frowning. “Even in the black community. These guys are cute. If we cut and run and leave the poor little rodents to be eaten by demons… Sir, that’s going to look like maulk. Especially if we run without so much as contact with the demons. ‘Oooh, big bad Vorpal Blade is scared of some widdew demons?’ I’m not saying that should be a factor that causes you to accept casualties, but it’s a factor. One I only thought about on the walk back. And when we do, eventually, go white… It’s gonna look even worse. Especially since we or somebody will be back and see the aftermath.”
“So you’re saying I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t,” Spectre said. “That I can lose my career fighting a pointless battle and losing troops or by cutting and running and letting the poor little chinchillas die.”
“Taking Miss Miriam as a pool of the eventual white PR reaction, sir,” Weaver said, “I would guess ‘crucified’ is more likely in the latter case.”
“Great,” Spectre said. “But there’s a better reason, I hope?”
“There are too many questions, sir,” Weaver said. “And I’m not talking about pure curiosity, here. I’m talking about things that are just bugging the maulk out of me. The boards. Where in the hell do they come from? They are tech that is advanced on Adar. I’ve tried the one we’ve got out and they really do seem to read your mind. And we’re not even Cheerick! I want some more just so we monkeys can tear them apart and be baffled. The Demons. I’d say they are some sort of created species, like the Dreen, but very focused. What is their purpose? How are they created? Where are they created? If we leave and come back after this society is destroyed, we’re just going to have to start all over again. And we’ll need to find one that is just about as advanced to have any luck with using local support. Even if we go back just to ask for reinforcements, we’re going to get held up. Committees, commissions, boards, every idiot in the black community, and they are numerous, sir, trust me, is going to want to add to the reports and recommendations. State is going to get involved and that means two months of reports going back and forth for addendum and amendment.
“Right here, right now, sir, you have more authority than any captain since the sailing days. Go back and it’s going to be two generals and an admiral arguing over sandwiches. Maybe at far remove they can make a better decision, sir, but by the time they decide to come back, maybe with more firepower, it’s going to be too late. Those are my arguments, sir.”
“And more responsibility than any CO in history,” Spectre said. “This is the only spaceship we have, as I have repeatedly pointed out. If these Demons are bad as they seem, we could lose it.”
“Not… if it’s off the ground, sir,” Bill said. “At least, it reduces the likelihood.”
“Take off and hold in orbit?” Spectre said. “Drop down to replace troops from time to time?”
“Yes, sir,” Bill replied. “Actually, it’s not really necessary to get into geosynch. It actually won’t even be an orbit. It is more like a hover in the region of the atmosphere known as near space. It will require continuous piloting to keep the ship over Cheerick City, but it can be done. You could even stay lower in atmosphere than near space but then it really is like flying in the wind. Commo shouldn’t be a big problem as we’ll only be at altitudes a little higher than a U2 flies. High data rate commo might require a better ground station though.”
“Leave one platoon on the ground,” the CO said, nodding. “If they need support, we can drop anywhere to provide it.”
“And you can engage with the lasers, sir,” Bill pointed out. “Those will stop an assault of Demons, sir. They’re designed to take out ships.”
“ ’Fire phasers from orbit, Chekhov,’ ” Spectre intoned. “Heh. Let me think about it, Weaver, but those are all cogent points. Dismissed. And get a shower.”
“Yes, sir,” Weaver said, grinning.
“We’ve had the distillers running full time, so go ahead and get a Hollywood shower,” the CO said, referring to just letting the water run. Normally, a shower was spray on water, soap, rinse.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Jesus Christ,” Guppy said as soon as the three exhausted Marines entered the compartment. “You heard about these grapping Demons, right?”
“I’ve been following Commander Weaver around for the last sixteen hours,” Jaen said, hopping in his rack and stripping off his skins. “But we weren’t exactly privy to the discussions.”
“That Adar down in engineering’s trying to figure out what the claws are made out of,” Seeley said, rolling over. “But they tested it on a piece of grapped up Wyvern armor and it cut right through it. Not easy or anything, but it could cut right through it.”
“Fine, we do our survey and then get the grapp out,” Berg said, rolling into his own rack and slipping his skinsuit into a bag with a nannie pack.
“The Cheerick asked if we’d stay and help them,” Seeley said. “Captain MacDonald’s against it. There’s not enough of us left for one thing. But Captain Blankemeier has the final word. Commander Weaver’s meeting with him right now.”
“What’s he think?” Berg asked.
“I think he’s supporting staying,” Seeley said. “I only got what I’ve got from Pearson.” The latter was the CO’s radioman and could occasionally pick up solid info, “straight poop,” instead of the rumor that was the normal stuff of the bay.
“I think he’s off my Christmas card list,” Hatt said, lacing his fingers behind his head. “We took enough of a beating on Runner’s World. He’s probably got an argument for it, but… I’m about ready to get back to the World and chill. Hell, even on deployment you’ve got more security than we do doing this maulk.”
“We’re Marines,” Sergeant Jaenisch said. “We go where the CO says and we kill whatever the CO tells us to kill. And that’s pretty much the deal.”
“Semper Grapping Fi, Sergeant,” Hatt said. “In that case, I’m gonna get some rest. Because, you know, the CO might decide we need to fight an army of unstoppable Demons tomorrow.”
“In which case we say ‘Aye-aye’ and we kill Demons,” Jaen said. “End of story.”
“We’re staying,” the CO said, looking around at the gathered scientists and officers. “Sort of. Commander Weaver had several cogent arguments to advance. But we’re not going to be stupid about it. We’ve got the materials to set up a base camp. As soon as that is installed, we’re going to lift the ship and hold it in near space. Designated science personnel and a platoon of Marines will stay groundside to secure the survey. In the event of Demon attack, we will assess the possibility of being of use to the locals. If we cannot do anything about it, we will pick up all personnel and leave. However, as Commander Weaver pointed out, we have lasers on this ship. Those, right there, should be able to stop a Demon assault wave. We’ll have Miss Moon request a basing area near the palace. That will permit us to support to the last moment. Captain MacDonald? Comments?”