Then it was gone, its power and luminescence fading as the wave of energy flew further and further from its source. Moving nearly as fast as light, the blast was already beyond the planet before people saw it pass. The people of Earth were safe; Dirac Station was located where it was in case this event ever happened. Earth was hidden behind the Sun, a huge barrier used to shield mankind from the blast, and even the Sun’s gravity could not have arced the approaching edges of the energy wave inward enough to put the planet at risk.
Venus was not so fortunate. As Pierce ordered a course to return Lincoln to Earth, the effects of the blast on the surface of the planet were already visible. The clouds were darker, gusting at thousands of kilometers per hour after the wave hit the nighttime side of the planet and churned huge amounts of rocky debris from the surface, and the pressure change from the sudden rush of heat caused the dense atmosphere to react violently. Enough rock was blasted from Venus’ surface that some was thrown beyond the atmosphere into space. Months later, great hunks of rock would still fall back to the planet from orbit and bombard the surface.
The brief exchange between Pierce and the helmsman to prepare a return track to Earth were the only words spoken in C2C for several minutes. Lieutenant Commander Yamada kept her eyes down on ship system consoles, unable to bring herself to look at the viewscreen still displaying Venus. In Engineering Control, Commander Yates pounded his fist onto a desk, cursing to himself through clenched teeth.
“Lieutenant Crawford, orient our long-range comms array towards Mars,” Pierce ordered. “We’ll use Arcadia as a relay, assuming it’s not damaged from this. I want to send a quick message to SPACECOM before we accelerate.”
She did so, choosing her words carefully. Yamada then gave her the report that all systems were ready for another high-g thrust.
“Let’s go home,” Pierce said to her. And find out if there’s a war waiting for us.
CHAPTER 25
White House Situation Room
Washington DC, USA
5:32 p.m. (2232Z), 24 December 2065
“An HM-wide disarming and defenestration strike,” General Garrett said over the room’s wall screen. Behind him was a frantic-looking MILCOM headquarters in Brussels. “The AI and I both recommend Selected Attack Option five-tac-one: rapid strikes against their anti-space capabilities, immediately followed by the destruction of six key military command centers. The rest of the HM forces would be paralyzed, but their civilian leaders would remain untouched and able to surrender.”
“The Joint Chiefs concur, Madam President,” the chairman said. “We estimate enemy fatalities from SAO five-one between eighteen and twenty-six thousand.”
“How soon could this option be ready?”
“Minimal readiness in twenty-three minutes,” Garrett replied. “Space Command assets can be on station within ten, but the delay is for our land-based hypersonics. Over twelve hundred missiles need to complete fueling, and the aircraft need to get to their control points.”
Loughlin and everyone else in the room couldn’t help but glance at the screens on the side walls. Each displayed different news feeds, muted, all showing scenes of panic. The entire world saw the blast wave, and everyone knew about the unprecedented alert levels in the Democratic Alliance and the Hras al-M’umnyn. Around the world, hundreds of millions were evacuating cities. News feeds replayed video of the bright blast wave moving across the sky, accompanied by scenes of chaos on the ground. Vehicles jammed highways leading away from cities, while mobs crushed into rail and air stations, trying to find transport to anywhere else. The floors of stock exchanges everywhere suspended trading after the markets began plummeting. Talking heads on news programs argued with each other over the inevitability of a third world war, and whether it had already begun.
In the Situation Room, a flurry of reports described what happened next. The HM’s heightened war footing prompted military alerts in Israel, Iran, India, and the Kinshasa Pact nations. India’s alert level was then matched by China’s, which was then matched by Korea’s and Japan’s. The news media were only minutes behind in learning about it all.
“Is there any way to precede this with an ultimatum?” the president asked. “At least to Ankara, if not the whole HM. They must know they can’t win a war against us, don’t they? They have to know it.”
“We can make demands,” Secretary of State Gonzalez said, “and making them now will help us save face after we clobber them. Still, what could we ask at this point? Would we really agree to anything short of the capitulation and removal of their governments? They’ll never agree, so it’s all for symbolism.”
“What are the risks during the next twenty minutes of delay? How exposed are we right now? For that matter, are there any other benefits to the delay?”
“Our military exposure is normal,” Garrett said. “Space Command warships will be the key to our strikes, and we’re keeping them out in the geostationary orbit ring until we have to bring them closer to fire. Also, the HM’s moves since they increased their posture from Yellow to Orange appear to be entirely defensive.”
“Right. And any benefits to this?
“Yes, ma’am,” defense secretary Stendahl said. “The missiles and aircraft can stay at peak readiness for hours or days, but a pause gives us more time to bring other air and naval assets into play. It also gives mobilization time for ground forces, especially airborne troops. And it gives our non-DA partners around the world time to prepare themselves.”
“Jesus Christ. Just how big a punch do you want to deliver, Erik?”
“I expect SAO five-one may be the end of it, Madam President. Like the general said, they’ll be paralyzed and helpless against further orbital strikes. But we should be prepared to deliver much more if they don’t give in.”
Stone’s aide interrupted from the side of the room, his eyes still fixed on a screen in front of him. “Madam President, excuse me. SPACECOM headquarters just received a message from Arcadia Base. USS Lincoln survived the blast. They sent a status report that they’re en route to Earth orbit now. ETA is 0318Z, in five hours, twenty-two minutes.”
Half the council members spoke at once, astonished at the news. The president’s chief of staff quieted them down.
“They survived? Is there any other information besides their arrival time?”
“Ma’am, excuse me, I’m just seeing this. The captain sent a twenty-second audio message along with the status report.”
“Play it.”
Jaana Pierce’s weary, static-tainted voice came over the room’s speakers. “SPACECOM, this is warship six-six charlie-oscar. We have interrupted an attack by at least twelve armed intruders on Dirac Station. Eleven Lincoln crew, one Kostroma crewman and four Dirac personnel are KIA. We are returning with two hundred and thirteen civilian survivors and one captive attacker. Details of the attack and the circumstances of the station’s destruction will be forthcoming after our arrival. Warship six-six’s condition is four-bravo. We will make best possible speed to Earth orbit. Out.”
The president saw the color drain from the faces of Drennan and Stendahl. One captive attacker, the ship’s captain said. Loughlin realized what that meant. Depending on who that was, the Plan could either be ruined or saved. The president had the message repeated once while she decided which way to play the information.
“That might change everything,” she told the room.
“I don’t see how it does, ma’am,” Stendahl said. “There’s not many details in the message.”
“True, but now we know that in a few hours we’ll have a deluge of details.”
“The captain never said who the attackers were,” Secretary Gonzalez said. “Why didn’t she mention that?”
“Or why wouldn’t she?” Drennan said. “It’s either because she doesn’t know who they were, or because it’s so obvious that it didn’t warrant a mention. It damn well looks like the latter to me.”
“It could be that they’re just not sure, Eli,” t
he president said. “We have to consider the possibility that Celik was being honest before, and this is all a false flag that the HM aren’t responsible for. We’re given a perfect excuse to hit them, and yet they don’t seem prepared for war.” Loughlin watched close as Drennan’s renowned poker face strained at the remark.
“Madam President, they could strike again at any moment.” Drennan said.
“Initiative is crucial, ma’am,” Stendahl added. “We must seize it ourselves or risk losing our space-based strike capabilities–“
“Think about strategy on their end. How does an attack on Dirac fit in with a strike against the DA here on Earth? Why didn’t they hit us back when the Roosevelt struck them eight hours ago? I think we can afford to wait for answers.”
Drennan and Stendahl looked into Loughlin’s eyes, and she looked back. They finally saw the risk the president was taking. She wasn’t betraying the Plan. She was trying to save it. The gamble would come down to which captive the Lincoln brought back to Earth.
She continued. “When Lincoln returns, we should have proof for casus belli. Until then, what we have is a fair guess.”
“And the two undersea cables, ma’am?” the Joint Chiefs chairman asked. “They’re not repaired yet, and they could fit into a larger military move against us. We simply don’t know their strategy.”
“Then time could help us. General Garrett, I want you to hold at DEFCON Two while I speak to other heads of state. A pause will also give us time to prepare other options. If there’s any indication that the HM is launching a new attack, then I’ll code you strike authority at once.”
“That may not be fast enough, ma’am,” Garrett said over the screen. “With this kind of war, it’s all about initiative and speed. I’d like to be able to give our space assets authority for an immediate counter-punch in case they’re attacked. We can’t afford to lose too much up there.”
“Granted, for defensive fire only,” Loughlin said. “But keep this ‘five-one’ option in the can for a few hours. In the meantime, continue all possible preparations. I want a full range of options available after the Lincoln returns.”
* **
Survivors overflowed from the crew’s galley into the narrow corridors. Every seat inside was taken, and others sat on the sides of tables or on the floor. Some stood, but there was no room to pace. A few were still crying and many had vacant looks on their faces, but some of them flashed smiles at the sight of the ship’s captain walking through the crowd and talking to people.
Pierce couldn’t help but recall that she and the crew had actually trained for a task like this. Lincoln and other Space Command warship ran drills with CS-Kenya on emergency evacuations of that station, which held even more people than this. But these are civilians.
The thought struck harder when she walked to sickbay. Doc Ford and a few deputized corpsmen tended to the wounded, and there were enough for triage. The gunshot victims got the immediate care, while four people still suffering from electric shock injuries sat in the corridor, numb from painkillers while waiting to be seen. With them was Markus Fuller, whose face looked like it had been through a boxing match.
The dead bodies, fifteen in all, were wrapped in bodybags hastily printed for them. Eleven were the ship’s own crew. Doc Ford had them stacked like firewood in her supply room. There just wasn’t enough space for dignity.
“Doc tells me all the wounded will survive,” Yates said, walking up to Pierce in the corridor.
“I wish we’d had time to bring some more of the bodies with us. The intruders, I mean. It could help in identifying them.”
“We’ve got one live one and photo images of several others. It should be enough to prove who was behind this.”
Pierce nodded. “We’ll be home within five hours. We’ll get these people on transports to the surface when we can, and then the dead. But Robert, I think we’re going to have other priorities once we’re back. We’ll need to be ready for war the moment we arrive.”
Yates’s jaw clenched. “Yes we will, Captain. Before we discuss it, can I have a word in private?”
The two stepped into the comms array access trunk, a space little bigger than a closet, and shut the hatch behind them. They stood close enough together that Pierce had to fully bend her neck to see Yates’s face.
“Captain, I sincerely hope you intend to be more aggressive in your duties once we return. You’re damn right we’re going to be faced with a war. You cannot display the sort of caution in battle the way you did on Dirac.”
Pierce burned her eyes into him. “Robert, I had a feeling this would be your goddamn attitude about what happened. So here’s my viewpoint. If we had done things your way, we could have lost our foothold on that station and maybe this ship as well, and every person now onboard would be dead.”
“Captain, I wasn’t the one who chose to hurry up and dock there rather than maneuver back and put a hardshot through the Kostroma’s bridge…”
“That was impossible. It was already too late, you saw the maneuvering screens. Abe’s data will back me up on that.”
“…nor was I the one who preferred to gather intelligence on who we were facing rather than charge into them. We could’ve gotten to the accelerator faster. We could’ve hit them in the Hub before they gathered those hostages–”
“Horseshit! Don’t even tell me that was the idea you had after they killed eight of our people right after we docked, with your ears still ringing from a flashbang! You’re saying this hours later.”
“I’m saying your initiative was weak, Captain! Unbefitting of your command. When their leader called, you negotiated with him and even came to a compromise which gave them time.”
“It gave us time. They had well over a hundred hostages and a busted accelerator. A cease-fire gave us the time we needed to arm ourselves better. You yourself were in favor of it! And if you don’t remember it that way, there were half a dozen people standing next to us during that conversation who can refresh your memory.”
“It gave us time to arm, yes. And then you insisted that I prioritize defensive gear.”
“There are well over two hundred people alive on this ship who might disagree with you about what my priorities were, Robert. And a few dead intruders left behind on that station.”
“The station that no longer exists. After you sent only three of our guys to take down the saboteur in engineering.”
“The sabotage was done already. That was confirmed. I sent them to try and capture that guy. May I remind you that you didn’t even want us to bother coming out here? Your preference was to stay home and hope the hijacking idea turned out to be nonsense.”
“I was considering the odds of it! We were already at DEFCON Four. My preference was to have this ship ready to carry out war orders.”
“Well, it’s a damn good bet that we’ll have to in a few hours! Now tell me, Commander, did you want to talk to me in private just to whine about how things turned out?”
“I wanted to talk to you for two reasons. One was to stress that we’re probably going to be in combat conditions as soon as we’re back, Captain, and to express that I have concerns about your command fitness, particularly with respect to your aggression during battle. My other thought was to advise you that everyone here is going to face inquiry after inquiry about what happened. You should know that when I’m under oath, I’ll have an obligation to speak my mind about how I feel things could have turned out differently.”
Pierce scoffed at him. “It’s easy to second-guess decisions from the number-two spot, Bob. It doesn’t make me think you’re any more fit for command than you were yesterday. Of course we’re going to face inquiries once the dust settles. I’ll be expressing my views on your behavior as well. In the meantime, you just get yourself and this ship ready to fight, and don’t worry about me. I follow orders without hesitation, and I always have. And goddamnit I’ll expect the same from my XO!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Yates grumbled, then opened the h
atch and walked away.
Pierce stayed behind in the access space for a minute. She ground her teeth as she kicked the bulkhead in front of her, then kicked it a second time. Impetuous jackass! Reckless and untrustworthy. He’s never had an emotionless thought in his life.
She went back to C2C, her face consciously unruffled as she walked through the passageways. Focus, Jaana. War is coming, almost certainly. It might even be over and done with by the time we’re back, but it’ll happen. But… why?
Entering the room, she saw Waters sitting next to Yamada, talking quietly with her. Lieutenant Crawford’s announcement that Pierce had walked into the space, “Captain’s in combat!” sent Waters to his feet.
“Cheng, how’re we doing?” Pierce asked, approaching the command consoles.
“Acceleration parameters are right down the line, Captain. We’re expecting the big flip before deceleration at oh-dark forty-nine Zulu. I came up to C2C to, uh, discuss our radiation tolerance.”
Pierce smirked. “Cheng, if half the ship knows about you two, then you shouldn’t assume that I’m one of those who doesn’t,” she said. Yamada turned her head towards Waters and blushed. “Make sure you’re back in Engineering Control for the big flip, but for now, grab that chair again. I’d like the three of us to talk about something.”
Master Sergeant Dogan’s arms and legs were bound to the chair in the tiny stateroom shared by chiefs Sandoval and Halpern, both now dead. A rag had been wrapped around his head and through his mouth to gag him. The gag wasn’t there to keep him from speaking; it was there to make sure he didn’t kill himself by biting through his tongue and bleeding to death. The two crewmen on guard duty decided that he might be the type to try it.
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