Escape 3: Defeat the Aliens

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Escape 3: Defeat the Aliens Page 21

by T. Jackson King


  Shock hit Jane. Appearing in her comlink holo was not the middle-aged face of Harriet Poindexter. Instead, it was Melody Hartman. She stood up and saluted her commander in chief.

  “Madame President, my two fleets are pursuing the enemy. The enemy strength is greatly reduced,” she said quickly.

  Hartman, sitting in the Oval Office on a Monday afternoon, not long after rain had drenched the green shrubs visible through the window behind her desk, leaned forward. The woman’s luxuriantly curled brown air framed an expression of rectitude and determination. Her blue eyes fixed on Jane.

  “Captain Yamaguchi, you and your fleets have done outstanding work in this space battle,” the Anglo woman said in a low soprano. “However, three enemy Collector ships are heading for Earth. Which lies just five AU from Jupiter. Those ships approach at 12 percent of lightspeed. Which means they will be here within six and a third hours.”

  “Six point one hours,” Star Traveler interjected.

  “You must be a saint to cope with that AI,” Hartman said, her lips compressing. “Captain, I have sent orders to six boomer subs to run their reactors at overload. They will try to attain 13 percent of lightspeed. Which means they will overtake the enemy. They will either destroy the enemy with lasers, with missiles or ram him. As the five subs did earlier. We mourn the deaths of those good sailors.” Hartman sat back and rested her arms on her wooden chair. Her look was one Jane had come to know. It was the look on one’s face when you knew you sent people to possible death. “It was my decision, in consultation with the leaders of Russia, China, France and Great Britain, to order those subs to make this effort. You are still in command of the remaining forces. If an enemy ship’s engines fail, or they fall within your targeting range, attack them!”

  “I will, Madame President,” Jane said, hoping her salute held steady.

  Hartman nodded. “At ease, captain. Your advice to the other ships was good. Take a break. Eat and relax. Then prepare for the final battle.”

  “We will, Madame President,” she said, lowering her right hand and sitting down in her command seat. In front of her, Chester, Bill and Bright Sparkle also lowered their salutes and sat at their work stations. Lofty Flyer and Wind Swift had stayed focused on their stations.

  Hartman’s image vanished. Poindexter did not appear. Nor did JCS chairman McAuley. Perhaps the rest of this battle really was up to her. She looked down and ahead.

  “Chester, move our engines up to 13 percent of lightspeed.” She paused, thinking things through. “Captains Stefano, Frank, Joe and Learned Escape, you are free to join me or remain at 12 percent acceleration.”

  “I and my crew are joining you,” called Stefano.

  “So are we,” Frank muttered. “Can’t let you have all the fun!”

  “Me too,” said Joe.

  “Us also,” called the artificial voice of Learned. “We are your allies. Whatever danger you face, we too will face.”

  Jane felt a brief surge of happiness. Then surprise as other ship captain images spoke.

  “Captain of the fleet,” called Jake. “My ship is increasing speed to 13 percent lightspeed.”

  “So is mine,” reported Mack.

  “Mine too,” called Janice.

  The other four Collector ships captained by new people also said the same.

  Which meant 12 Collector ships now pursued three enemy Collector ships. Along with six boomer subs. It looked as if she was indeed a leader. Now came the time to figure out a way to kill the three enemy ships without losing another sub or ship to ramming or antimatter. Too many humans had died in the ships led by Joshua, Paul and the Russian and Chinese ship masters. She had started this war against Alien slave-masters with just one ship. Perhaps her Blue Sky could end it.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Forty minutes later Bill came back from a quick meal in the Food Chamber and sat at his Weapons station. Everyone else was already back. Bright Sparkle sat to his right, then Chester, Wind Swift and Lofty Flyer. Sparkle was intensely focused on the performance of her three fusion reactors that ran down the middle of their ship. No doubt they were sucking in loads of deuterium and tritium fusion isotopes. Which was not a big deal, especially since America had placed an isotope extraction plant in low orbit just above Jupiter’s cloud deck. The automated plant was a copy of the plant they had refueled at during their first visit to HD 128311. He looked past her. Chester, wearing his tube suit like all of them, showed sweat on his forehead. Clearly the man was anxious over the performance of their two Magfield engines. Which, Bill reminded himself, had been repaired by Megun engineers. Those color-talking near humans were incredibly talented people. Maybe their repairs had improved the overload tolerance of the engines, despite what Star Traveler had said. Maybe 13 percent of lightspeed could be maintained? Beyond the vice admiral stood Wind Swift. The scaly kangaroo was closely monitoring both the Life Support and Collector Pods stations. Beyond her sat the brown-furred shape of Lofty Flyer. The Aelthorp flying squirrel touched her nav controls now and then, making tiny vector adjustments to keep their ship exactly on the same vector track as the three enemy ships. Which, he noticed from his system graphic, now had a change in their formation. Fear Arrives was slightly ahead of his two ship allies by perhaps a few hundred miles. Did that mean anything?

  “Ship Blue Sky is now at 11,213 miles distance from the nearest enemy ship,” Lofty Flyer chittered. “Closure to within 10,000 miles is expected in nine minutes.”

  His memory of Wind Swift kicked his brain. “Captain! Let’s launch our 24 collector pods now! And tell their Magfield engines to speed ahead of us at 14 or more percent of lightspeed. If a few blow up, or most of them croak, so what? We could use the survivors as ramming craft against the enemy!”

  “Fine idea XO!” Jane said quickly from behind him. “But let’s make them more deadly. I want thermonuke warheads in each craft. How many spares do we have on the deck below?”

  Bill checked his Weapons cutaway holo. It showed all weapons at Green Operational. It also showed the status of all ammo, whether it be nukes, antimatter loads or plasma reloads. “Twelve. They are stored in the MITV launcher room below us.”

  In his comlink holo, his wife and captain grinned toothily. “Yes! Star Traveler, send hover bots to transport those warheads to the Collector Pods Chamber. Load them into 12 pods. Advise me when the pods are loaded.”

  “Complying. Time to completion of task is three point nine eight one minutes,” the AI hummed.

  “Wind Swift,” called Jane. “Launch 12 pods right now! Set their autopilots on track for the two closest enemy ships. Order the autopilots to increase Magfield engine speed to 14 percent of lightspeed. If they can go faster, move them faster!”

  His peripheral vision saw the claw-hands of the kangaroo moving quickly atop her control pillar. “Twelve pods now launched. New operating rules input into their autopilots. Each has acquired the infrared signature of an enemy ship. They are moving to 11, 12, 13, now 14 percent of lightspeed. Captain! They are reaching 15 percent!”

  Bill saw that. On his system graphic the tiny red dots of the pods were moving ahead of the Blue Sky. He tapped his fire control panel. “Wind Swift, I’ve sent you a random walk vector track program. Upload them to the pods! That will give them a chance at survival from enemy lasers.”

  “Uploading evasion program,” barked his ally.

  He hoped the pods would pre-empt any ramming by the six subs that were just 700 miles behind the Blue Sky. Jake and his six Collector ships, along with the ships captained by Stefano, Frank, Joe and Learned, were a touch closer at 500 miles behind the Blue Sky. His ship had had a vector angle advantage over the other ships and subs. Plus Jake’s fleet had been further away when everyone sped up to 13 percent of lightspeed.

  “Task completed,” Star Traveler hummed. “One warhead loaded on each of the 12 remaining collector pods.”

  “Launch them, Wind Swift!” Jane called urgently.

  “Launching,” the kangaroo
barked. “These pods are also moving at 13, 14 . . . now 15 percent of lightspeed!”

  “Captain,” Bill called. “I’ve sent the random walk vector track program to these nuke-loaded pods. I’m also sending the program to our allies behind us.”

  In his comlink holo, Jane brightened, then snapped her fingers. “All sub captains, launch your missiles now! Set them for warhead dispersal once your missiles pass the Blue Sky. They can’t go any faster than your 13 percent of lightspeed, but they can be a follow up distraction for the lasers on those enemy ships! Do it now!”

  “Launching missiles,” called the voice of the captain for the HMS Vengeance. “My missiliers are transmitting the random walk program into the missile computers.”

  “La même choix per mois,” called the French captain of the FNS Terrible. “Our missiles are pursuing the enemy,” came his translated voice.

  The captains of the four Trident subs who were part of the group of six ordered to attack by Hartman also confirmed they too were launching their Trident missiles, with Bill’s random walk evasion program uploaded to the missile nav computers. He watched the first group of 12 pods, which were ahead of the 48 empty pods launched by Stefano, Frank, Joe and Learned. Who were also loading nukes onto their remaining 12 pods. Jake and his six fellow Collector captains would be doing the same.

  “Captain,” called Jake from the Tangi Valley. “We’re launching 12 empty pods at the enemy ships. Ours are also speeding up to 13, 14, now 15 percent of lightspeed!”

  Bill’s system graphic holo showed his 12 pods racing ahead of them. Twelve more loaded with nukes were not far behind. Those two clusters were followed by the 48 pods from their fleet group. Another group of 48 pods from Jake’s fleet now showed as tiny red dots on the graphic. That made for 120 highly mobile collector pods bearing down on the three enemy ships. They would soon be followed by another nuke-loaded group of 108 pods. Then the ICBM missiles would appear, barely pulling ahead of the two fleets. The warheads from the four Trident subs would amount to 1,152 warheads, plus a few hundred more from the Brit and French subs. He realized the pod and missile attacks would come in waves versus a single group of hundreds. He checked the fancy iWatch that Jane had got him on their return to Earth. Yes! Time for the second group of nuke-loaded pods to launch from Stefano’s and Jake’s ships. Which now happened. Two groups of 48 and 84 pods now became a fifth and sixth wave after the four waves of unarmed pods. Inside, in his sneaky SEAL heart, he realized there was no way the lasers on three Collector ships could kill several hundred collector pods running up their tails!

  “XO, looks like your pod attack idea, plus our missile warhead loads, are going to give the enemy fits!” Jane said sharply, sounding happier than he’d heard in some while.

  “Pods are within 8,000 miles of the enemy ships,” Bill called back, watching the tiny dots on his system graphic. Bright green streaks and yellow flares on his true space holo drew his attention. “Crap. All three enemy ships are firing tail lasers at the approaching pods. Ten down, twelve, first wave is gone.” He focused on the second wave of nuke-loaded pods. “Nine more hit. Twelve gone.” He saw something that gave him hope. “But half of the 48 in the third wave are still alive! They are jinking, warping and hiccupping their way on my random walk program! Fifteen are alive and at 3,000 miles. Approaching 1,200 miles distance.” A green light blinked on his fire control panel. “Captain! We are less than 10,000 miles from the enemy! I’m firing lasers!”

  “Other ships,” Jane called. “Fire when in target range!”

  Bill tapped his lasers, sending two green streaks toward the nearest enemy Collector ship. He was aiming for its engine section rather than the small laser emitter nodes. The conical engine section of a Collector ship was still hard to hit. The enemy was now moving to random walk jinking as someone alerted the captains to the fact they were within attack range from the Blue Sky and her four ship allies. Soon, Jake and his six ship allies would be in range to fire their lasers. Shortly after that would come the six boomer subs, each outfitted with a laser scavenged from a transport ship.

  A green flare showed in his true space holo. On his system graphic holo, one of the two enemy ships lagging behind Death Leader’s ship now jerked, then its random walk movement ended. Or rather slowed. Had one of its Magfield engines died from his lasers?

  “Captain!” Bill yelled. “One enemy ship is slowing to five percent of lightspeed. They’ve lost a Magfield engine.”

  “Great! Now let’s see—”

  In space, death happens very quickly.

  The red dots of three pods converged on the wounded enemy ship, hitting with enough inertial force to vaporize the fantastic flexmetal skin of the ship. The plasma balls created by those three impacts traveled on into the ship’s thousand foot long body. Yellow-white light flared on his true space holo.

  “Jane!” Bill called. “Enemy ship is gone! Its antimatter reservoir was beached by a pod impact!”

  “Interesting,” Star Traveler hummed from the ceiling. “Its ship mind put out a cry for help just before it . . . evaporated.”

  “My ships are firing on the enemy,” called Stefano.

  “Ours also,” called Jake.

  Bill touched his fire control panel, adding his lasers to the mix. Green streaks from 24 lasers crossed the 8,714 miles separating the Blue Sky from the Death Leader and his ship ally. Green flares showed on his true space panel. He glanced at his system graphic.

  “Captain!” he called. “Both ships were hit but are still maintaining 12 percent of lightspeed. Uh, damn! The two are speeding up to 13 percent of lightspeed. They are matching our Collector ship speed. But they are not pulling away from us. And here comes the fourth wave of empty pods. I’m firing our lasers.”

  Everyone else added their laser fire. The six subs also fired since they were not far behind Jake’s seven ships. In fact, the subs were pulling ahead. Had they gone to 14 percent of lightspeed?

  Dozens of yellow flares filled his true space holo. Bill checked his graphic holo. The news was depressing.

  “Captain, the two enemy ships have flipped nose-to-tail and are now firing their antimatter projectors at the oncoming pods,” Bill reported. “They killed 43 pods in the fourth wave. Their lasers are taking out those pods beyond 4,000 miles. But our nuke-loaded fifth wave is jinking like an ice skater trying not to fall!” He paused, counting yellow flares. “Fourteen of the fifth wave of pods are dead from laser strikes.” Green flares showed now. “But our third group of lasers are taking a toll! Hits on Death Leader’s ship and the enemy ship behind it.”

  Death visited again.

  Yellow-white light flared brightly in the middle of his true space holo.

  “Rearmost enemy ship is now gone,” Bill said, his breath coming too fast and his heart beating like he was running a marathon. “Two empty pods hit its tail. Three nuke-loaded pods hit its mid-section. Whatever blew on the loaded pods just added to the antimatter blow-up.” He looked back to his wife, whose pale face was tight-clenched. Her command manner was almost gone as Jane watched the sudden reversal, then improvement of their battle fortunes.

  “Good news. But Death Leader’s ship is pulling away from us,” she said, pointing at her system graphic holo. “And the bastard’s using his antimatter projector to sweep the space behind him. Our sixth wave of pods is gone.”

  Bill jerked back to his own system graphic holo. What Jane had just said, he now saw. Death Leader’s ship was now slowly pulling away at 14 percent of lightspeed. Worse, three Collector ships in Jake’s fleet were falling behind. Rapidly. They must have lost—

  “Oh no!” Jane cried.

  His heart plummeted. The true space holo now held a new yellow-white plasma ball. He sighed.

  “The Pointe Du Hoc is gone. With ship mind and crew.” He looked back to her.

  Jane grimaced, then nodded. “All other Collector ships! Reduce your speed to one-tenth lightspeed now! That is my order. Protect our people on the Seafloat and
the Manila Bay. Jake and Stefano, this includes you too!”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jane’s heart hammered at the death of the Collector ship. The Pointe Du Hoc had been captained by a Ranger gal, Jesse Winthorp. Other Rangers and Delta Force folks had been her crew. Plus a Slinkeroo walking snake. With some spouses aboard. Now, they were all gone. Perhaps their engine meltdown had reached their isotope fuel tanks and somehow uncontrolled fusion had happened. Or maybe the rearmost fusion reactor had lost fusion containment. What mattered was the fact they were dead and gone. Only memories now survived. In addition, three other Collector ships were wounded, with only a single Magfield engine still working. Rather, the Musan had zero engines while the Seafloat and Manila Bay still had a single engine. As Star Traveler had warned, traveling at 13 percent of lightspeed had been too much for the Magfield engines on those ships. The loss of the Pointe Du Hoc and the engine loss on its two sister ships had convinced her to call a halt to the other ships’ mad gamble with odds and Alien tech. In her system graphic, most of her allied ships were slowing to the normal one-tenth lightspeed that was the approved rating for a Collector ship traveling normal space. Further back were the ten remaining Trident subs that had not joined Jake’s pell-mell dash. But not all her allies had slowed. The six boomer subs under orders from President Hartman continued at 13 percent of lightspeed. A speed they could make on a single Magfield engine only due to their smaller size and lower mass than a Collector ship. And one Collector ship was still close behind her ship.

  “Stefano! I said all ships must slow to rated Magfield speed.”

  In her comlink holo, the image appeared of Bill’s SEAL buddy. And fellow trout fisherman, she recalled from Bill’s late night sharings. His buff, tightly muscled frame did not move within the tube suit he wore as he sat in his command seat atop his own command pedestal. The man’s pale brown eyes fixed on her.

  “Captain of the fleet, a SEAL does not leave another SEAL alone on the battlefield,” he said firmly. “Bill is that SEAL. You are my ally. Who now faces the enemy. You will not face that monster alone.” He waved to someone out of the image. “Bob, move us up to 14 percent of lightspeed.” He looked back to her. “The USS Neil C. Roberts, BBG-9, is now joining you. We have your back.”

 

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