Star Fortress ds-6

by Vaughn Heppner

  The troop-pods added space, but it would still be a tight fit. The boats used to be rakish in appearance, now they were ungainly-looking vessels. Lacking heavy armor or even thick hulls, they relied on cloaking, anti-missile pods and point-defense canons for protection.

  Docking beside an airlock, they began transferring people and supplies to the two vessels. Everyone was tense—the interceptors showed that anything could happen. The surface proton-beams were linked to the cities that energized them with deep-core power. It meant Director Backus had several under his control. If he desired, he could shoot them out of orbit.

  Marten and Osadar debated in the control cabin of the first patrol boat. He wanted to name it the Spartacus II, but the space marines were too superstitious. They vetoed the idea because the first Spartacus had been destroyed. Therefore, Marten christened the boat the William Tell, the name of another of his childhood heroes.

  In olden times, William Tell had been a Swiss patriot who fought against an Austrian tyrant named Gessler. The Austrian overlord had nailed his hat to a post in the village square, decreeing that everyone passing the hat must bow down to it. William Tell came to the village with his son and strode past the hat. Gessler saw that and in anger, he sent his men after Tell. Knowing that William Tell was a master crossbowman, the Austrian said Tell would enter the dungeons unless he shot an apple off his son’s head. They paced off a good distance, set his son against a tree and put an apple on the boy’s head. Grimly, Tell took out two bolts. He loaded the first, aimed carefully and split the apple in two.

  Gessler applauded the feat. But he seemed troubled. Leaning down from his saddle, he said, “Well done, man. One thing troubles me, however. Why did you take out two bolts instead of just the one you needed?”

  “If I’d killed my son,” Tell said, “the next bolt would have been for you.”

  Furious with the answer, Gessler made William Tell his prisoner, and they rowed to his island fortress. A storm arose on the way. Because Tell was a strong man, they cut him loose and made him steer the boat, which he did. But he escaped onto the rocks near shore. Tell roused the people, according to legend, and he killed Gessler while the people defeated his Austrian knights. Ever since, William Tell had stood as a symbol: a man who loved freedom and refused to bow down to tyranny.

  “We don’t have much time until Luna reappears,” Osadar said. “I think we should wait until it disappears again behind the Earth.”

  “Let’s risk leaving now,” Marten said.

  “Our burn won’t take us far enough out of orbit. We’ll still be in range of the Doom Stars.”

  “First, we blast our way to the other side of the Earth so they can’t directly target us,” Marten said.

  “That will give Earth Defense time to pinpoint us,” Osadar said.

  “Backus and the directors hate aliens, hate anyone foreign to Social Unity. I doubt they’re allied with the Highborn.”

  “Sulla is an Ultraist and he accepted premen help,” Osadar said. “Why can’t Backus act similarly and accept Highborn help?”

  “Sulla is a Highborn and they bend their own rules more easily if it helps them gain their objectives,” Marten said. “Backus is a fanatic, with all that implies. There’s no way I want to spend an entire day in range of the Doom Stars. We move now while we can.”

  “I do not approve.”

  “It would have surprised me if you did.”

  “Is my opinion so meaningless?” Osadar asked.

  “On the contrary,” Marten said. “Your previous suggestion is the reason I want to leave now. Time has become critical and our journey is going to be a long one. The sooner we start, the better I’ll feel.”

  Fifteen minutes later, air expelled into space as the inflatable skin ruptured and collapsed.

  “We’ll use minimal thrust,” Marten said, who sat in the William Tell’s pilot seat.

  The patrol boat’s ion engines burned hot for fifteen minutes. It built up velocity as they curved around the planet. Five minutes later, they changed heading for the Sun. Then they cut the ion engines. The two patrol boats slowly drifted away from Earth, cold targets now.

  For the next day, they continued to drift away from the planet. Only as Luna passed behind the Earth again in relation to them, did they engage the engines for a longer burn.

  Then eight massive blips appeared on the sensor screen. Three of the blips were much bigger and hotter than the others.

  “The Alliance Fleet has begun acceleration for Neptune,” Nadia said.

  Three Doom Stars, four SU battleships and one missile-ship accelerated away from Luna orbit. They were big warships, the last fighting fleet of Inner Planets, and possibly humanity’s last chance to defeat the cyborgs.

  “Godspeed,” Marten said, as a sense of awe swept through him. Here it was. They were finally hitting back. What would the soldiers find in the Neptune System?

  “How long will it take them to get there?” Xenophon asked, as he floated near.

  “That depends,” Marten said.

  “What’s the shortest possible travel time?”

  “Osadar?” asked Marten.

  “That also depends,” she said. “Given human endurance limitations—”

  “I know the answer,” Nadia said. “I read some specs on the expected journey a few days before we left New Baghdad. It was something on the order of eight months, give or take several weeks.”

  “I remember our acceleration as we left Jupiter,” Xenophon said. “I do not envy them.”

  As he watched the blips, Marten did envy them. He wanted to kill cyborgs. Instead, he had a different mission.

  -14-

  Far away from Earth and Marten Kluge, the Chief Strategist of the Jupiter System landed on Ganymede, taking up quarters in a deep bunker. Three weeks had passed since the discovery of the moon-wreckers and her meeting with Sub-Strategist Circe. The Guardian Fleet was still accelerating at the enemy.

  Tan’s headquarters contained a huge holo-screen. There, she watched the unfolding drama with the eight moon-wreckers of Uranus, keeping in direct link with the Advisor of Europa. He continued to conduct governmental business from Europa’s capital city. The two of them had come to an understanding. Now that she considered it, Tan realized what had happened. The entire Jovian System was in shock. People watched in disbelief as the moon-wreckers approached. The Advisor was no different from the masses. He wanted to end his life well. At this point, he probably still hoped for the impossible and wanted to maintain face and keep his position as a courageous war-leader.

  Tan found sleep difficult in the sterile facilities. The majority of her time was spent before the large holo-screen with her primary archons in attendance, including Euthyphro the Advocate. From time to time, they attempted to engage her in debate on some arcane topic. She tried to humor them, but found herself staring at the screen, watching the Jovian defensive moves unfold with agonizingly slow motion.

  The two Jovian asteroids broke out of Jupiter’s orbit, heading toward the wreckers aimed at Ganymede’s projected position in two weeks’ time. A monstrous plasma tail lengthened behind each of the two asteroids. On either side and behind the kilometers-huge objects followed the Guardian Fleet, also building up velocity. With the eight warships came nine helium-3 tankers and four Jovian space-liners. They were big spacecraft, and each was part of Europa’s defensive strategy.

  With hands clasped behind her back, the Chief Strategist often spoke to Circe. The Sub-Strategist advised the three Force-Leaders of her meteor-ships. Circe maintained her quarters aboard the Erasmus, no doubt spending many hours starting at the pictures of Marten Kluge taped to the walls.

  “It is unusual for a governor to actually ride into battle with her ships,” Euthyphro said of Circe.

  Tan nodded absently as she studied the holo-screen. The eight moon-wreckers were visible. With giant interferometers, Carpo’s astronomers mapped the enemy structures. Tall towers with focusing mirrors were laser turrets. There
were one hundred and twenty lasers and sixty launch-sites on the eight projectiles. It was an overwhelming number, too much for the Guardian Fleet. From time to time, there was movement behind the projectiles. It proved that warships—or cyborg spacecraft of some kind—followed close behind the moon-wreckers.

  The hours passed in tedium and growing despair. The pictures were highly classified. Tan and her archons agreed that broadcasting the precise information would create system-wide panic. For the benefit of humanity, however, the detailed images were beamed to Mars and Earth.

  The hours grew into days and the days became a week. Battle drew near and Tan paced endlessly before the holo-screen.

  Then one moment among the tedium brought everything home. The holo-screen wavered and Sub-Strategist Circe’s face appeared where a second earlier it had shown the eight wreckers.

  “We will commence the attack,” Circe said, speaking through tight-beam communication. “We will launch our decoy drones first. Let the record show, we cheerfully defended our system and entered battle with high resolve. Sub-Strategist Circe reporting.”

  The image disappeared and the eight wreckers resumed their place on the holo-screen.

  Soon, sixteen decoy drones detached from the vessels of the Guardian Fleet. Their utility was predicated on a different type of battle. The decoys were meant to mimic a meteor-ship, its mass, radiation and radio-signals. The hope was enemy missiles would target the drone instead of the real vessel.

  Now the sixteen drones accelerated, passing the two Jovian asteroids and heading for the eight moon-wreckers. Fifteen minutes passed. Then large Zeno Drones detached from the meteor-ships. The new Jovian drones or missiles also accelerated. They were ship-killers, one of the primary weapons of the fleet. They too, sped at the enemy.

  A day passed as the two “fleets” closed toward one another. Then the cyborg laser turrets targeted the approaching decoys and Zeon Drones, destroying one hundred percent of the Jovian projectiles.

  Sixteen hours later, the lasers began chewing into the two Jovian asteroids, which had finally come into destruction range.

  “Begin pumping the prismatic clouds,” Circe ordered the crews on the asteroids.

  Because of the time lag, Chief Strategist Tan heard the order four minutes after it was given. The battle took a predicable course after that.

  The lasers burned into the tiny reflective particles sprayed out of the Jovian asteroids. The asteroids no longer accelerated, but drifted toward the enemy. Giant pumps on the asteroids’ surface sprayed the cloud before them, the prismatic crystals reflecting the laser light and dissipating their strength. The laser heat slagged the crystals as a “burn through” took place. The situation was a mathematical formula of prismatic-mass versus laser-fuel and overheating.

  By the time the asteroids ran out of P-clouds, sixteen cyborg lasers had stopped beaming. The remaining lasers now began to chew on the asteroids, heating the base material. If given enough time, mass would burn and boil away, and pieces would fracture and possibly drift apart.

  As they continued to beam, the cyborgs launched several hundred missiles at the two asteroids.

  “They mean to blow our two wreckers apart,” Circe radioed headquarters. So far, the Guardian Fleet and the accompanying spaceships hid behind the two asteroids, using them as shields.

  Tan stood transfixed before the holo-screen deep in Ganymede. The time lag was minimal and soon forgotten. The Chief Strategist’s stomach clenched as she watched the seven meteor-ships and the lone dreadnaught maneuver out from behind the shielding asteroids so they could fire directly at the enemy’s missiles.

  Lasers beamed from the Jovian warships, striking cyborg missiles, destroying many. Jovian defensive missiles burned long contrails as they launched and accelerated into the void, maxing out at one hundred and twelve Gs. Cyborg lasers now began to target the prone meteor-ships. The minutes passed as hellish rays burned into armored nosecones or boiled away meteor shielding.

  Tan heard Circe’s orders. They were recording everything, beaming the information to the Inner Planets. One-by-one, as their mass disintegrated and threatened to splinter into sections, the meteor-ships moved back behind the Jovian asteroids, once again using them as defensive shields.

  Now the remaining cyborg lasers targeted the Jovian rockets, destroying eighty-eight percent of them. The few to survive the attack reached the nearest cyborg missiles. The rockets exploded like grenades, creating masses of shrapnel that moved at hypervelocity at the cyborg missiles.

  Forty-eight enemy missiles disintegrated or were otherwise destroyed by the shrapnel. Combined with those destroyed by Jovian lasers, one hundred and fifty-nine cyborg missiles were still intact, heading for the twin asteroids.

  “They have too much ordnance,” Circe said, appearing on the holo-screen again.

  Behind her back, Tan’s grip tightened so she squeezed her fingers. Behind her, the archons watched in silence. Tan wanted to scream the question: Couldn’t they even save Ganymede? Was the enemy about to destroy the Jovian asteroids before the kilometers-huge objects could hit and deflect at least two enemy moon-wreckers? Who would have expected the cyborgs to launch moon-wreckers from Uranus anyway? Who knew the cyborgs had successfully conquered the system? The enemy moved and attacked with such unbelievable stealth. It was unnerving and debilitating.

  “I await your orders,” Circe added.

  Not knowing what to say, Tan turned to the archons.

  In his purple robes, Euthyphro the Advocate strode forward. “Our fleet can still use the asteroids as shields,” he said, “gaining proximity so the warships can ram the wreckers once near enough. They ought to at least be able to deflect the two wreckers headed toward Ganymede.”

  Tan faced the holo-image. What should she tell the Sub-Strategist? The Jovian System was doomed. That was clear. The enemy simply had too much firepower and too much mass in the eight moon-wreckers. Her appreciation of the Highborn-Social Unity defeat of the Saturn planet-wreckers last year rose in estimation. Even if Jupiter had possessed the entire Guardian Fleet of several years ago…

  Tan pried her fingers apart and smoothed her robe. She took several steps nearer the holo-image. What should she tell Circe? What made the most sense given the system’s certain demise?

  Tan swallowed in a raw throat, and she said, “Listen to me carefully, Sub-Strategist. I am giving you precise orders. You are sworn to obey me and therefore you must proceed as ordered.”

  “Yes,” Euthyphro said. “It is wise to remind her of her duty.”

  Tan wanted to order the man from the chamber, but it was all she could do to say these words.

  “Sub-Strategist Circe, as philosophers we are beholden to do the most good for the greatest number of people. You have reaped the rewards of the best education given anyone anywhere at any time. I now call upon you to do your duty to humanity. You must use the two asteroids to close in on the moon-wreckers. Our computations show that our two projectiles will not survive long enough for impact with the wreckers. You cannot deflect even one of the enemy projectiles. It is a bitter truth. Therefore, you must survive contact with the enemy. You must survive, escape, and then do as you feel best afterward. This is a war to the finish with an alien life-form, one we humans created in our folly.”

  “What are you saying?” Euthyphro cried. “Our meteor-ships must ram the wreckers and save us from annihilation.”

  Tan shook her head. “The Jovian System is doomed, Sub-Strategist. But it may be that your warships will help turn the tide of the war elsewhere. It is a vain hope, but I choose to grasp at that hope so my death will have meaning.”

  “No!” Euthyphro shouted.

  “Escort the Advocate from the chamber,” Tan said.

  Three waiting myrmidons leapt to obey, hustling a protesting Euthyphro out of the room.

  Tan waited for the time lag to pass as her message reached the meteor-ship and as Circe thought about her response and then gave it. Part of Tan hoped Circe
would disobey the orders and tell them she and the others planned the ram the enemy asteroids.

  I want to live, Tan thought. It is such a powerful emotion. Yet my reason tells me it is impossible given the situation. I now choose to end my existence as a philosopher of Callisto.

  Finally, the holo-image of Circe moved. “You give us a hard order, Chief Strategist Tan. We are reluctant to obey it. But we are true to the Dictates. Therefore, we shall attempt to survive and join those on Mars, possibly. We salute your courage and your wonderful rationality. As long as one of us breathes, we shall carry the germ of a new Jovian System in us. Long live the Dictates!”

  “Long live the Dictates,” Tan whispered.

  * * *

  The days passed as the Jovian people learned of their fate. The Advisor of Europa was unable to keep his calm. By tight-beam laser, he raged at the crews of the helium-3 tankers and the space-liners. He implored them to keep to their solemn oaths and ram the wreckers aimed at Europa.

  The two Jovian asteroids splintered under the hammering strikes of the cyborg missiles. The enemy laser turrets then began to beam anew.

  The Guardian Fleet and the accompanying spacecraft used the last debris and floating boulders until contact with the moon-wreckers. As the Jovian vessels passed the asteroids of Uranus, giant jets rotated the moon-wreckers and the turrets fired into the Jovian ships. The helium-3 tankers and the space-liners quickly parted into separate sections, spilling their crews and other debris into the void. The dreadnaught bore the brunt of the remaining lasers, and soon drifted into several burnt and glowing sections. The lasers next targeted the dreadnaught’s escape pods, crisping all of them. There were no survivors. Of the seven meteor-ships, three survived the accelerating enemy missiles, the Erasmus among them.