Another query showed the projected path of the enemy, hundreds of billions of kilometers off to the side. Confirmed sightings dropped off near another cluster of comets and asteroids whose distance was better stated as more than a light-week away. That data was over a month old. He wondered if his ship had been updated by the Gladstone or was he still running on just the A-24 network.
Next he looked at the orders queue, hoping their reduced force, now given their stings back, would turn to intercept, but it was not to be. Instead, they would proceed by wings and squadrons toward Grissom Base on Callisto, taking advantage of their interior lines, falling back on their defenses, regrouping for the defense.
Of course, orders could always be changed. Otherwise, why bother to rearm the Aardvarks? Though General Yeager was gone, Vango was sure the Fleet’s leaders were keeping their options open.
Besides…he pulled back and oriented himself above the plane of the solar ecliptic, and manually projected a course for the Destroyer. If it kept curving inward toward the sun and Earth, the fleet’s course still generally aimed for an interception. Vango superimposed a scale on his view in astronomical units, a compromise between light-hours and kilometers. Earth was one AU out, by definition. Callisto orbited Jupiter at about ten AU from the sun. Pluto’s orbit varied, but could generally be called fifty AU out.
Vango and the fleet were only one hundred AU out, much closer than they had been for the fight. Expending all fuel, they might be able to get home in a week. Without accelerating, three months. He figured reality would fall somewhere in the middle, so that they could arrive with enough gas to fight, sometime before the enemy got there.
Now he ran the numbers. It appeared just under fifteen thousand ships remained combat capable. The rest had either been lost, or were too badly damaged to put back in service. Presumably their pilots were being decanted and faced a long trip home, even longer if the auxiliaries intended to go out to the battlefield to search for survivors.
Perhaps the drifting men and women would just be written off as too expensive to recover. He forced his mind away from contemplating that, and said a prayer for them.
Speeding up his time sense once more, his apparent velocity leaped forward as the edge of the solar system rushed toward him. It only seemed like hours before he reached Pluto’s orbit and had to slow down to begin to read and absorb the long queue of intelligence updates that awaited him. When he got tired of catching up, he slowed himself further to normal and slept.
In this manner he and the rest of the fleet returned to Callisto base.
While he expected a homecoming, he was not prepared for the sustained appreciation of everyone there and, at a distance, that of the people of Earth. We’re heroes, he thought. The half of us that survived. I guess it’s always that way. Grandpa and Dad always told me that heroism is just about doing your job the best you can, and living through it. I guess they were right.
Never having to buy a drink was nice, but not being left alone got old, so after a while he settled down to a life of hard training, visiting Aunt Jill – too bad Uncle Rick was gone back to Orion – and hanging out with Token. A few of the female pilots made passes at him, but after Stevie, he just wasn’t interested in risking his heart again, or even being distracted from the mission.
Nothing mattered but that damned Destroyer, waiting off the rim of the solar system like a lion in the darkness. In his mind, in his dreams, it roared and lusted for his blood.
Chapter 60
Year Ten
The giant operations center aboard the Orion station swarmed with personnel. Expanded several times, now it more resembled a modified indoor stadium than anything, with several rings of workstations rising from the center floor and a multitude of screens. Low spin and liberal use of gravplates for specific effects allowed for some oddities, such as whole sections tilted forty-five degrees inward for easier viewing. Inhabitants of these platforms got used to the feeling that the rest of the room hung over their heads as if to fall on them at any moment.
Today even more people packed in for the special meeting to come, both of the two shifts doubling the usual numbers, plus a slew of other personnel that did not work there. In a room that normally held five hundred, at least two thousand milled.
Because he happened to be on shift and sat in his usual seat, Lieutenant Commander Rick Johnstone didn’t have to stand, or sit on a desk like many. In fact, he cheated a bit and linked directly into one of the teleconference cameras so the system fed his optic nerves with direct views, a good thing because of the crowding.
Johnstone already knew much of what would be briefed, but this was the first time it had been laid out in front of the entire EarthFleet command and staff. At least forty flag officers circulated, their presence a natural result of the growth of EarthFleet and its bureaucracy. Still relatively lean for a military service, many senior personnel commanded elsewhere around the solar system.
Conversation died and everyone came to their feet as Admiral Absen entered and took the podium at one end, his aides and stewards taking places behind him. As usual, he wore his working khakis. Johnstone thought he had seldom met such an unpretentious flag officer.
“Take your seats, such as they are, ladies and gentlemen,” Absen began. “Everyone can read a report, but in less than two days EarthFleet will engage the enemy again, and I wanted to give you all as clear an overview as possible of the big picture. Slide please.”
Behind him the giant screen and all of the supplemental displays scattered around showed a top view picture of the main solar system out to Neptune filling the left half. A red icon and a trailing arrow from the right depicted what could only be the Destroyer, almost to Neptune’s orbit line, though the planet itself was nowhere near.
“As you can see, here is the enemy ship’s position, about forty hours out from Earth, inbound at roughly point three lightspeed. We’ll return to that later. Next.” The unseen audiovisual controller clicked to the next slide.
An enormous number of red pinpoints sprang up in a concave arc between the solar system and the Destroyer, a crescent whose inner curve aimed at the inner planets and the sun. “These represent approximately nine thousand three hundred objects incoming at about one quarter lightspeed, also about forty hours out, give or take. Our stealth drones tell us that the enemy gestated Meme fusion engine packages much like we used to accelerate our space program nine years ago, slapped them onto chunks of rock, and sent them at us in a relatively coordinated manner.”
Johnstone quickly queried for a 4D future look simulation of the inbounds and brought it up on his own desk screen. This mirrored Absen’s next slide.
“As you can see by these plots, some of these things are aimed at nonmaneuverable targets – Ceres, moons where we have bases such as Callisto and Luna, or Mars. The majority are aimed at Earth. A few would impact some of the larger asteroids, but we are already moving those enough to make them miss, and will keep doing so in case they are able to perform terminal guidance.”
Now a swath of blue icons appeared, filling the solar system, and the view swelled to put the orbit of Jupiter near the edge, allowing for more detail. “Here are our fixed defense installations, on repositioned asteroids and moons, mostly. These mount a variety of directed energy weapons as well as railguns and missile launchers. Consider these the pillboxes of our defenses, with similar strengths and weaknesses. They are nearly immobile, at least in tactical terms, but they are fortified and have heavy weapons that should be particularly useful against the rocks.”
Absen’s face turned grim. “They are also targets. Many are automated, but some are not, and one of their jobs is to soak up the enemy’s firepower. I salute in advance all of those brave men and women who will undoubtedly die out there, doing their duties. For those of you on such installations viewing this remotely, I pledge that your families will be taken care of and your sacrifices will not be in vain.” He paused for a moment of silence. “Next slide please.”
/> Yellow icons appeared showing the major bases on Ceres, Callisto, and Hiera. Ceres’ current location showed one quarter orbit clockwise from the direction of attack, while Callisto and Jupiter resided only slightly out of line. Hiera, of course, orbited Earth. Absen continued, “Ceres is being temporarily evacuated and its Pseudo-Von-Neumanns shut down, the workers to remain aboard a passenger ship hiding behind it. We hope its distance will mean the rocks we see aimed at it constitute the entire threat. Because PVNs are distributed across its entire surface, many will survive and will then rebuild more PVNs. My main concern is the personnel, and as long as they face only rocks, they should survive by moving behind its mass.”
Now Callisto flashed once as the Admiral pointed. “Grissom Base is nearly in the way, and is an obvious target. It is also the most difficult for us to defend. Until General Yeager’s fleet bought us an additional year, the plan was to evacuate and abandon the facility. However, the extra time has allowed us to dig in. Once they’d finished building the surface facilities, all that engineering and construction equipment and personnel was turned to digging in. High-energy, high-risk construction techniques, such as fusion borers and bombs, have allowed us to do two things. Slide.”
The display abruptly changed to show the layout of Grissom Base. Beginning as a top view, it rotated in three dimensions to show a subsurface diagram like an ant farm. “First, we now have slanting tunnels to these eight shelters and command centers more than two kilometers down and a similar distance off to the sides. Second, we were able to install an array of heavy weapons in a ring around it. We hope they will attack the base, because they will want to take out those weapons.”
Absen held up his hand to still the conversation that began. “Again, it was the extra year that allowed us to fortify the base, but the purpose of the weapons is not so much to defend as to damage the enemy when he attacks. Every effort on his part, every resource he expends to assault EarthFleet facilities in space, is a resource he does not have to hit Earth itself. Next.”
The screen changed again, back to the solar system view. “And of course, Hiera is at Earth, and its base will control the weapons placed on over two hundred captured asteroids in orbit there. Next slide.”
Now the display showed ten green icons in a short line between the Mars and Earth orbits, as if to block the inbound rocks and enemy ship.
Right now the home planet occupied a position about one eighth of a revolution counterclockwise from a line drawn between the Destroyer and the sun, and Mars was another one eighth along. Unless the Destroyer maneuvered widely, the red planet would play no part in the action, and Johnstone knew the facilities there were limited.
“These are our linebackers, the new Calgary-class light cruisers.” Johnstone had heard that these were a surprise development, an adjustment to strategy after information from the first engagement had been digested.
Absen went on, “As the Yeager action taught us, our swarm-of-Aardvarks technique has some weaknesses. They dodge hypers easily but die quickly to fusors.”
The view zoomed in on the line of ten. Of course, what looked like a line was actually more like a disc in space, or a shield. “We needed a mobile defensive force to play back, to catch rocks the other defenses miss, to pick off hypers fired at Earth or its facilities, and to charge in for the kill if an opportunity presents itself, and frankly, to force the enemy to expend hypers, and thus materials and energy. These ships were built with that in mind. They are fast and they have heavier weaponry but very light armor. To make up for that, we’ve clad them in asteroids.”
Now the display zoomed in to show one long cylindrical ship and an asteroid next to it. “We’ve cored out some rocks so that a ship can be inserted in the end, like a pen into a potato.”
Chuckles broke out around the room as the screen showed a corresponding image. The ship’s back end still protruded about half way. “Our engineers drilled ports for the main weapon, which consists of a high-capacity railgun along its central axis. All secondary weapons are mounted on its back part, along with maneuvering thrusters. I know it’s ugly, but simulations show it will work. The asteroid portion can take a pounding, and as soon as it is ablated or broken away, the underlying cruiser itself can still fight normally, with an enormous increase in speed. If necessary, the rock can be blown off with breakaway charges from inside.”
When Absen waved, the view reverted to the line across. “A squadron of forty Aardvarks will accompany each cruiser. This way, the two ship types will cover each others’ weaknesses.”
“We hope!” came an unknown voice from somewhere, loud enough to be heard.
“That’s right,” Absen responded with a grim smile. “This plan gives me great hope, and confidence that EarthFleet will do what it has to.” He lifted his hand from the podium to rub the back of his neck, an unconscious indication of how tired he was. “And finally, the front line. The hounds, if you will.”
A crescent of yellow dots, almost a mirror of the inbound enemy rocks, lit up across the Destroyer’s path, its concave side pointed at the enemy. “This represents about sixty thousand Aardvarks, including what came back from the Yeager fleet. We could have built more, but instead we diverted production output to build the cruisers and fortify all the rocks. Now, instead of only one strategy – the mass of small ships – we have a defense in depth that is more likely to succeed.”
“What about Orion and Artemis?” another voice called.
Absen’s expression did not change, but he swiveled his head to scan the crowd as if gauging his people’s temper and holding his own. “Everyone knows we had to make a decision between upgrading two big old ships, or making more modern ones. Artemis does not even have the decade-old weapons and armor Orion does, and so she has already lifted from Callisto and will remain out of sight behind the moon. When the battle is over, she will be ready to provide immediate assistance.”
Gripping the podium tighter the admiral continued, “Similarly, Orion’s combat capabilities are outdated, but she is filled with command and control systems and personnel duplicated nowhere else. We have retrofitted engines to allow her to stand off as far as necessary, well inside Earth’s solar orbit, to coordinate the defense. Ladies and gentlemen, it galls me to lead from the rear, but I’m not a sub captain anymore, and most of you are not ship commanders either. We all have jobs to do in this wartime headquarters. Let’s do them the best we can.”
With one more look around, Absen signaled Major General Zolen to come up on stage. “Now, the J2 will give you a more detailed intelligence update, and after that the J3 will brief ops. After that we’ll hear from the rest of the J-staff in turn. At the end of this briefing, we go on surge watches.” He nodded to his intelligence chief, then sat down in a chair at the edge of the stage to listen to the latest.
Chapter 61
“Finally we turn toward victory!” Second Forward Fusor One crowed to his comrades. “Only two more planetary cycles and we shall see the Humans broken.”
“We have been fortunate, and your leadership has been excellent,” Two said with no trace of obsequiousness.
“Yes, One. Your plans have been instrumental in our rise.” Three’s words, on the other hand, dripped sycophancy.
One knew that Three’s mood could change easily, but he appreciated Two’s steadiness under pressure. I could have a worse trium.
“We have an abundance of fuel,” Three crowed, stating the obvious.
The fact that One was about to say the same thing annoyed him. “We are well aware of our fuel state, Three. Keep your eye on your systems. We must maintain them at full readiness. The Humans are clever. It would be irony indeed to destroy their ability to resist, but for us to die in the doing, don’t you think?”
“Of course, One. I hear and obey.”
Two flung a few molecules at One that carried a combination of exasperation and condescension for Three’s flightiness. One slowly blinked his eyeball in acknowledgement.
“Becau
se we have so little to do, we will follow the Close Combat trium readying their Pureling troops,” One said. Such magnanimity should pay off later, especially if Three whined about any hardship.
On their screens, Second Forward Fusor trium watched as Close Combat mustered rank upon rank of insect-like Purelings, fearsome monsters carrying simple energy weapons and cutting hand tools little different from those used to harvest plants on a planet. This combination had served them for millennia, and as unimaginative and specialized as Purelings were, simple weapons were always better.
Beside the groups of soldier bugs squatted the landing craft, hybrid Purelings with mechanical turrets grafted onto them. These would carry the close combat troops to their destinations, and support them with their heavier weapons.
“What about aerospace escort?” Three asked.
Two accessed another feed. “One grouping of stingships will accompany the assault.”
“Only one grouping?”
“Our resources are not infinite,” Two replied with more patience than One would have displayed. “It appears all of the enemy small craft have departed the moon’s base and wait for us up ahead.”
“They would have been wiser to use some to defend their valuable facilities,” Three opined.
“I believe you are correct,” One interjected. “Under my leadership, you seem to finally begin to grasp the basics of military operations. I commend you.” One Above All, could it be true? Could Three finally be gestating a mature mind beneath his stupid integument?
“We will crush them utterly,” Three continued. “They cannot win.”
“Of course not,” One replied, exchanging glances with Two again.
Chapter 62
Time is always the problem, time and speed, Lieutenant Commander Rick Johnstone thought from his CyberComm station in Orion’s ops center. At one quarter lightspeed, the enemy’s powered rocks an hour out from Jupiter would take about six hours to reach Earth.
Plague Wars 06: Comes the Destroyer Page 28