“Please, sit,” Justinian said.
Benz wore a faintly mocking smile as he took a seat. He was just as trim and fit looking as before.
Justinian couldn’t say the same for himself. He’d lost a little of his leanness, and he’d gained the beginning of a potbelly. He sat too much these days. He read too many reports.
“Have you read the latest report, sir?” Benz asked.
Justinian folded his hands on the huge desk. He waited.
“I’ll take that for a yes,” Benz said, as he crossed his legs. “My belief is that the Nathan Graham is heading in for battle. Why Hawkins has moved so slowly these past few months…” Benz shook his head.
“You don’t believe in enemy sabotage?”
“I didn’t at first. Now…” Benz shrugged. “I think it could be possible.”
Justinian watched the master calculator at work. He used to think he was that person. He did not believe that anymore. Why hadn’t Benz tried to topple him from power yet? Until he figured that out, the Premier had decided to move carefully with the genius.
It galled Justinian to realize that he feared Benz. The shock caused him to unlace his fingers and sit back. No chair he owned for long creaked, squeaked, or groaned. This chair was as silent as the grave.
“You know, I think the P-Field before Makemake represents aliens,” Benz said. “It’s the sheer volume of crystals involved. I doubt we could have seen anything smaller than the giant P-Field from here. I wonder if the aliens are sending a message to us, too.”
This was the first Justinian had heard of that vein of thinking.
“Sir, if the Nathan Graham truly took sabotage damage out there…perhaps it’s time we reconsider our strategy.”
Justinian inclined his head for the Inspector General to continue.
Benz smoothed out a wrinkle in his pants. “Sir, I think we might have time to slip reinforcements to the Jupiter System.”
“Jupiter lacks a true terrestrial planet of needed size.”
“I’ve been working on that, sir. I believe I’ve come up with a possible fortress defense scheme. Using the four Galilean moons in conjunction….we should be able to build a planetary-like fortress. We could park warships there. It would be another planetary system remaining under our control instead of Hawkins’ possible control.”
“Go on,” Justinian said.
“In a strategic sense, Jupiter could act as an outpost,” Benz said. “The risk factor—there is a risk, sir. I don’t believe it’s a large risk. The Nathan Graham has no reason to maneuver so slowly to Makemake. If the cybership has lost its great asset of speed, we’re going to have longer to build more warships. Some of those excess vessels could go to the Jupiter System.”
“I’ll have to study your proposal—”
Benz laughed.
The Premier scowled at him.
“Forgive me, sir,” Benz said. “No one else except you, sir, would understand what I’m trying to accomplish. The others—” The Inspector General shook his head. “Hawkins made a mistake. Now, we have to exploit it.”
“And if he’s fighting aliens on Makemake, and the aliens win?”
“That would be tragic,” Benz said.
“I’m not interested in tragic. Facts alone—”
“Yes, I quite agree,” Benz said.
Justinian stared at the Inspector General. “Do not interrupt me again,” he said softly.
Benz snapped his mouth shut. He actually appeared surprised at the threat in Justinian’s voice. Finally, Benz nodded, almost meekly.
That made Justinian more suspicious. Finally, he put the flat of his hands on the desk.
“What are Hawkins’ odds for victory at Makemake?” the Premier asked.
“I’m not sure. Before, I would have said they were good. This slow down…We might be facing an alien invasion, sir.”
“You mean that Hawkins could lose to them. What are our odds if we face the aliens?”
“Almost zero, I’m afraid. We need their advanced technology to have a chance against them.”
“So…are we cheering for Hawkins in this fight?”
“Oh, yes,” Benz said. “Without a doubt. Except, we don’t want him to win too cleanly. A bloody fight is to our advantage. Kill the aliens and come limping back to the Solar System, allowing us to capture his vessel. Our top scientists are having amazing breakthroughs regarding some of the alien technology. Knowing something is possible is a great spur to development. But getting our hands on the alien tech itself would be even better.”
“Yes,” Justinian said.
Benz cocked his head. “Do you mean it’s a yes on the Jupiter Expedition?”
“You know I do.”
“But you haven’t read the white paper of the proposal yet, sir.”
“Yes,” Justinian said.
Benz appeared surprised. Finally, he nodded.
Justinian wondered if that was genuine surprise. He felt it had been. If he’d felt otherwise…
“Why don’t you dine with me tonight, General?” Justinian said. “You can explain the Jupiter System addition to our fortresses strategy in greater detail.”
“I’d love the opportunity, sir.”
“Until then,” Justinian said.
Benz stood quickly, waiting.
“Dismissed, General.”
Benz didn’t say another word, but headed for the door, letting himself out, closing the door softly behind him.
Justinian stared at the closed door for a time. Finally, he picked up another report. Would Hawkins save humanity, or was the man going to leave it up to him and Inspector General Benz to do that?
-3-
“Launch,” Jon said.
The Nathan Graham faced forward again, relative to Makemake, with the mighty exhaust ports aimed in the Sun’s direction. From far out here, the Sun was just another star, albeit brighter than most.
A big drone left the firing tube. Jon saw the drone appear on the screen. It was an eighth of a kilometer long, making it huge for a human-built missile.
“Launch the others in succession,” Jon said.
Chief Ghent stood at his board, making the various selections. Other techs monitored their stations.
Soon, ten big drones began to accelerate for various perimeter-points of the giant P-Field. They all moved for different spots along the edge of the field.
The field held in its LaGrange position, keeping itself between the dwarf planet and the Nathan Graham. Gloria had spoken before about Makemake moving to meet them.
Just like any ship, the dwarf planet moved through space. In this instance, the advance to battle was through its normal orbital path. The place where the cybership and the dwarf planet would intersect was empty of anything at the moment. Makemake was traveling to that point and so was the Nathan Graham. The dwarf planet had such mass, though, that it had appreciable gravity to hold things to it. In this instance, that included the P-Field.
Most people thought of space as being empty because it was a vacuum. While it was true that space was a vacuum, it wasn’t true that it was empty. Planets, comets, dust, particles, radiation, gravitational influences, solar wind and more radiation all had an effect. A cunning space tactician took all those things into consideration.
Makemake had a moon. That could prove exceedingly important in the coming battle. Much would depend on what the ten drones would discover behind the P-Field. Even if the drones never made it to the edge of the field because the robots destroyed them, that would reveal something about the aliens’ plans.
“The recon drones are on their way, sir,” Chief Ghent said.
Jon stood before the main screen. It seemed he’d lived a lifetime here already. This time, it was much different from marching through alien ship corridors. This time, he stayed in one place. He could sit, stand, scratch an itch and forgo smelling his own sweat.
Jon watched the drones accelerate. Space battle moved at such a leisurely pace. Then it could accelerate so se
conds made all the difference.
“The longer we wait to engage,” Gloria said, “the more time the aliens have to prepare for us.”
“And the longer our techs can work on the next engine vent,” Jon said.
“True,” Gloria said. “It makes one wonder. We have our concerns, our problems. I wonder what problems the aliens are facing.”
Jon cocked his head. He could see, in his mind’s eye, the colonel nodding in appreciation. Graham had tried to teach him to keep up his courage while making battlefield decisions. One only saw his own problems. The enemy always had some of his own. That was good to remember when it looked as if nothing was going to work. He was glad Gloria had reminded him of that.
Time passed as the drones maneuvered for the perimeter of the P-Field. It was hard to wait like this. Finally, Jon returned to his chair.
The drones had dwindled so they were hardly visible on the screen.
“Anything?” Jon asked.
“If the aliens are using sensors against us or the drones,” Ghent said, “I can’t detect it.”
“Could the aliens have abandoned Makemake?” Gloria asked.
“And gone where?” Jon asked.
“Orcus perhaps.”
Orcus was another Kuiper Belt dwarf planet, but farther away.
“We’d have seen the aliens accelerating if they were making a strategic withdrawal,” Jon said.
“Not if the aliens used the P-Field as a shield,” Gloria said. “Maybe they built the shield to cover their retreat.”
“Why would they do that?”
“If you mean why retreat,” Gloria said, “it could be to buy themselves more time.”
“You’ve suggested before that they have begun constructing a new cybership,” Jon said. “Wouldn’t that take a vast space dock or scaffolding like we used in the Saturn System?”
“We don’t know if that holds true for alien construction techniques,” Gloria said.
Jon actually grinned. “You continually remind me that we know so little about the aliens. We know far more than we used to, but that’s still little enough. Maybe we made a mistake not putting some of the crew under the brain-tap machines. We could have used advanced knowledge.”
“There’s still time to do that,” Gloria told him.
Jon wondered yet again about the advisability of using the brain-tap machines. Was Da Vinci’s demise a warning to them? Or was the Neptunian’s memory an obstacle to gaining the needed knowledge to defeat the terrible aliens? The more Jon pondered the idea, the more he decided he didn’t know the answer.
“Anything on the drones?” he asked the chief.
Ghent shook his head.
Jon slid out of his chair. Instead of advancing toward the main screen, he headed for the exit.
“You’re not going to actually use the brain-tap machine, are you?” Gloria asked in dismay.
“Not yet,” he said. “I want to talk to Bast Banbeck first.”
-4-
“No,” the Sacerdote said ponderously. “I think it is a terrible idea.”
“I’m surprised you say that so quickly,” Jon replied.
The two stood in a large chamber. Marines were working out with weights, doing squats, bench presses and barbell curls. Others practiced with sticks, lunging at each other, clacking wood as fighters blocked one another. Still other marines climbed ropes. A few sparred in a ring, trading punches and hard kicks.
Bast had been doing pushups. The Sacerdote always did them slowly, pausing at various times up and pausing even more down. Jon had asked him about that once. The Sacerdote had been amazed to discover Jon thought he did the exercises for bodily strengthening.
“Is that why those men grunt so loudly?” Bast had asked.
“Of course,” Jon had told him.
“Astounding. I do the leveling raises purely as a relaxing technique to clear my mind.”
Bast had climbed to his feet as Jon asked the question about using the brain-tap machine. The Sacerdote had been scratching his scalp like a great ape ever since.
“Why is it a terrible idea?” Jon asked. “We could know more about the aliens this way. Knowing your enemy is halfway to defeating him.”
“I doubt that’s true.”
“That’s what Sun Tzu said.”
“Your ancient military philosopher?” asked Bast.
Jon nodded.
“If it isn’t sacrilegious, I would like to read Sun Tzu’s sayings.”
“Sure,” Jon said. “But let’s not get sidetracked. You know I hate the brain-tap machines. They killed Da Vinci. Still, sometimes one has to deal with the Devil in order to win. We already have dirty hands—”
“Captain,” Bast said ponderously. “These aphorisms you spout with growing desperation show me why you can’t do as you suggest. We must win cleanly.”
“That’s it? That’s your argument. I thought you had something profound to add.”
The green-skinned giant looked down at Jon. “The brain-tap machines are a lure. They are vile technology. It is no surprise the AIs have them. They destroy races and suck out their knowledge. The AIs are evil incarnate. We are men, different kinds of men, but men. We can only wisely use what we know. Da Vinci sought greater knowledge, and an alien mind-pattern consumed him. We aided the alien thought-patterns in the destruction of his mind, but the chief reason for Da Vinci’s death was his own greed.”
“Maybe a man has to risk destroying himself in order to save others.”
“Do not seek the answer through alien thoughts shoved into your mind,” Bast said. “That will always produce a monstrosity. It won’t happen the same way each time, but evil will come from using the machines. Win the battle through your human strengths. You have gotten this far. Do not attempt the final stretch by using evil. Get there by outfighting the machines your way, the human way, the Jon Hawkins way.”
“What if my way isn’t good enough?”
“What if you haven’t tried hard enough?” Bast countered.
Jon turned away, listening to the marines grunt and yell.
“I feel as if I should exhaust every option,” Jon explained. “We may be rushing to the final battle. Am I leaving behind a way to win? The thought of human extinction landing squarely on my shoulders—”
“The other races all lost to the AIs,” Bast said. “You won. Do not seek the losers’ ideas. Delve into your own heart, Jon Hawkins. Get back to the bridge. If spaceship battle doesn’t work, don your battlesuit. Get ready to storm another cybership if you must, so you can march to its heart and kill it.”
“What did you say?” Jon whispered.
“Use your methods, the ones that worked.”
“Yeah…” Jon said. “I think you might just have stumbled onto something. Thanks, Bast.”
The Sacerdote dipped his head.
Jon hurried out of the gymnasium. Once in the corridor, he broke into a sprint.
-5-
Jon questioned the Centurion for a time. Afterward, the captain returned to the bridge.
The drones were halfway to crossing the distance to the edges of the P-Field by then.
“The aliens have not shown themselves in any way,” Ghent reported.
“I’m surprised,” Gloria told Jon. “I’d expected the AIs to do something by now. If nothing else, to try to destroy our drones. That seems like an elementary tactic on their part.”
“Agreed,” Jon said. “That’s what I’d do in their place. Are we missing something?”
“I have no doubt we are,” Gloria said.
Jon walked to his command chair, resting his hands on its back. He studied the screen. Should he dare send battlesuited marines in drones to try to slip boarders onto enemy vessels? Should he have recruited more marines while in the Saturn System? The more he thought about it, the more he realized not doing so might have been a mistake.
He’d wanted a small elite group. He hadn’t trusted his tiny resources—the few men already aboard with him—to proce
ss more people.
“I did what I did,” Jon whispered to himself. The time for berating himself was long over. He needed to maximize his assets and make the right moves to defeat…whatever waited on the other side of the P-Field.
For now, that meant he had to wait for the recon drones to reach the P-Field, or for the enemy to make a visible move.
***
“The drones are nearing the P-Field, sir,” the missile tech said. He was a medium-sized man with dark hair, and his shoes were always the shiniest on the bridge.
“Anything?” Jon asked Ghent.
“Nothing, sir,” the chief said. “Oh, wait. I take that back. Look, sir. I’ll highlight the area.”
Part of the P-Field turned red, the chief’s highlighting. Millions of crystals shifted there. Soon, three ships, one after another, emerged from the P-Field into space. Each of them curved away from the other, although they continued to move away from the P-Field.
“Those ships are using radar,” Ghent said.
“At us?” asked Jon.
“No, sir,” Ghent said. “At the recon drones.”
“I recognize those ships from June Zen’s stories,” Gloria said. “Those are Makemake war-vessels. I believe they’re—”
“Lasers,” Ghent said, interrupting her.
Jon watched laser beams spear from each Makemake war-vessel. The hot rays targeted the recon drones, one drone per warship.
“The drones are ten thousand kilometers away from the P-Field,” the missile chief reported.
“Let’s see how hot those lasers can beam,” Jon said.
It didn’t take long before the first recon drone exploded. The second one went dead, but it didn’t blow up. The final targeted drone exploded ten seconds later.
“The enemy ships are targeting the next trio of drones,” Ghent said.
Jon felt helpless because there was nothing he could do right now. The three Makemake war-vessels were far beyond the cybership’s range, as the Nathan Graham was three-quarters of an AU away from the one-sided fight.
The A.I. Gene (The A.I. Series Book 2) Page 27