The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  “Obviously, they have penetrated our security rather thoroughly; it must have been my failure, sir.”

  “You weren’t listening. The Union must have sent telepaths. Find out who they are.”

  “We watch all traffic to and from California. There is not much traffic, only a few shuttles, a few times a week. Most of those flights are scheduled well in advance with shuttles regularly in service.

  “There has been only one unannounced flight in the last month, a group of teenagers from the dependents’ area down for shopping, I believe.”

  “You know, or you think?”

  “They bought camping gear and supplies. Then they dropped off surveillance for a couple of weeks. They arrived back at the shuttle port yesterday and returned home. They were all young, they didn’t match any of the I-Branch profiles and their visit was consistent with teens. I think they are in an extended relationship; two women and a man.”

  Shelton Cramer came in, yawning and scratching. “Chairman Merriweather, what can I do for you?”

  “You don’t know what is going on?”

  “No, sir. I’ve been working nights and just woke up when Commander Black paged me.”

  “Tell me, have you heard from your government lately?”

  Cramer blinked. “No. As you know, there is only the most circuitous of links. The Union to Earth, then here.”

  “We have a report that your government has fallen. Evidently your telepaths were lying about the efficacy of the anti-telepathic gear.”

  “I was told that our government was intending on contacting the Federation and the contact vessel should have been here already. I haven’t heard anything since then.”

  “Admiral Gull is here, on California. He is making demands. Among other things, he says the purpose of the hats was to make the wearers look ridiculous.”

  “We have had telepathy for a hundred and fifty years, the protective gear about half that long. I can’t imagine that it has never worked.”

  “How long is your contact overdue?” Karl-Heinz Black asked abruptly.

  “Three...” Cramer stopped, aware that he had screwed up.

  “Three what, Mr. Cramer?”

  “Three months,” he said in a small voice.

  “And the longest they have been overdue before?”

  “Never, usually they are early.”

  “Tell us about your detection of ships on High Fan?” Richard Merriweather demanded.

  “It works out to about a dozen light years.”

  “You have refused to share how it works with us up to now. How does it work, Mr. Cramer.”

  “I’m not authorized to share that.”

  “Two things that should inform your decision, Mr. Cramer. First, you are no longer in contact with your government and it appears to have fallen. Second, the reason why Gull was calling was to inform us that the Federation has detected an inbound alien attack on Campbell’s at a distance of more than eleven light years and less than twelve. An attack, I might add, with reputedly twenty-two hundred plus ships.”

  Mr. Cramer swallowed visibly. “Actually, you’ve always known how to detect ships on High Fan. Honestly, it reduced Union scientists to helpless laughter that you were so dense.”

  “Really?” Richard Merriweather said dangerously.

  “Even Kinsella knew it -- but she never realized it. Fans have to be tuned to run in sync -- they interfere with each other otherwise. The reason they interfere with each other is that two fans can detect each other.”

  “Holy shit!” Karl-Heinz exclaimed.

  “I’m not technically inclined, Commander Black. That’s a plausible explanation?”

  “Not just plausible, sir. It explains it completely! Oh, golly! No wonder the Union people laughed themselves silly!”

  “We were not aware that the Federation knew this,” Cramer said. “But the distance that attack was detected is dispositive, I think. Is the Federation going to defend Campbell’s?”

  Commander Black said, “Chairman Merriweather, I was thinking we should shoot our spies. They were concentrated in the sensor departments in various locations; we had no hint of this. Sir, we usually get weekly reports from California. For two weeks now, the agents sent up have failed to return. Evidently there are Union telepaths on California, and by extension on Campbell’s.”

  Commander Black’s fingers danced on a computer terminal and pulled up a photo. “Crap!”

  “Commander?” Merriweather asked.

  “The three teenagers; we should have checked them more closely. I should have checked!”

  His thumb touched a portrait of one of the women. “This is Charlotte Timmu. She was reported as belonging to I-Branch in training. I expected her in uniform like the rest of the I-Branch morons. Still, she is a twenty-year-old fresh ensign on her first assignment. The male looks to be younger and the other woman slightly older.”

  Cramer cleared his throat. “I told you that you can’t be sure of the absolute chronological age of Union agents. I am seventy-two and a third generation modification. I look like I’m in my thirties.”

  “Probably the man, then,” Commander Black mused.

  “Maybe... still, two-thirds of telepaths are women. He could be their security.”

  “I will deal with any of them who return!” Karl-Heinz growled.

  “What about their other claims?” Merriweather asked.

  “I’m getting a report of crowds gathering in front of the palace and others in front of the Capital,” Karl-Heinz said, tapping an earpiece.

  “You did tell me that using an incomplete explanation for our forces was a recipe for disaster,” Merriweather stated.

  “Evidently Campion and the others aren’t the traitors I first thought,” his security chief said. “It is humiliating to know that probably the whole plan was unraveled in two weeks by one or two telepaths.

  “I have traced their movements; they did not actually go camping in the woods, but were in a building near that Capital. Not near the palace.”

  “How far distant? Telepaths typically only have a range of a hundred meters or so,” Cramer explained.

  “Half a kilometer,” Karl-Heinz replied.

  Mr. Cramer whistled. “Maybe one percent of our telepaths have that kind of range! I did not know we were sending telepaths to the Federation.”

  “Is there a possibility of an AI having been sent? Gull threatened that,” Merriweather said.

  “It may be. The data we got after the AI went rogue was that everyone within two kilometers were killed, half out to three kilometers and a very few beyond that,” Commander Black reported.

  “Our data was similar, but there was one officer who was affected at a distance of a hundred and fifty kilometers. Her behavior was controlled by the AI. Our information on that is suspect; the incident commander was a nineteen-year-old, reported to be a full commander in the Fleet. This commander was promoted captain after the incident and sent out to Adobe to be the Adobe vice commander’s flag captain. Our data shows that she was an involuntary enlistee. The name is common, but not overly so. My people think this is a case of mistaken identity,” Cramer said.

  “What, Chairman Merriweather, do you want us to do?” Commander Black asked.

  “I’ve issued the necessary orders to comply. The ship that was destroyed was a decoy from Olympus Base; it was destroyed just outside the atmosphere. The missile came from one of the missile platforms controlled by the Federation.

  “If we find out the alien attack is a bluff... well, we will see what we see at that point. In the meantime, Plan B. See to it at once, Commander Black.”

  “Yes, sir, Chairman Merriweather.” With that, Commander Black saluted and hurried from the room.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Cramer, but I have some orders to give. You know the way out.”

  The Union man nodded and he too left. Richard Merriweather called three men then, and five women, and passed the same message to each: “Alas Babylon.”


  He then spoke to the heads of his bases and instructed them once again and once again gave firm orders to cooperate with the Fleet technicians.

  Then he called Admiral Jimmu back, snubbing Admiral Gull. “I will comply with your demands -- just as long as an attack actually materializes. If it doesn’t...”

  Admiral Gull leaned into the view. “You will have the unenviable task of explaining to your people that you are not defending against an alien attack -- but one from the Federation. I’ll repeat this just so you’re sure. No matter what the results of the forthcoming battle are, you are embargoed.

  “We are going to evacuate the dependants on California. Any hostile act will result in the Federation abandoning the Campbell’s system. You would find out anyway, but there is now a carrier in the system and at least one battle moon. They are in stealth mode. Start trying to launch ships from Kalliste and each will survive only a few milliseconds. Ships coming out from Campbell’s will be fired on with High Fan homing missiles. That is, they travel on High Fan, detecting targets on fans in either mode, and detonate with proximity fuses.

  “Between the carrier and her fighters we have the ability to kill your ships, even unto individual fighters, twenty times over. And if you try to be clever, thinking you can sally ships in the few seconds between when we leave and the aliens arrive -- who do think we got the idea of High Fan homing missiles from?”

  “You don’t have the lift to evacuate as many as there are on California,” Merriweather said coldly.

  “What part of ‘we have fan stealth technology’ didn’t you understand? There are all sorts of ships in this system. Including a number of assault transports and a division of Federation Marines. We’ll triple up on the transports, and Snow Dance is just six light years off. It’ll be uncomfortable for a week, but nobody will mind.

  “You really don’t want to shoot at those transports, Merriweather. There are a dozen battle moons heading here from Snow Dance as we speak.”

  “Impossible! You’re bluffing! The quickest you could send a message there and get a response is less than the time you say we have!”

  Admiral Gull included Admiral Fletcher and the Federation President. “Say hello, gentlemen to the dictator of Campbell’s.”

  “More fakery!” Merriweather declared with heat.

  Ernie Fletcher smiled thinly. “I am not a figment of your imagination, nor an elaborate Turing program. This is simply an elementary application of latch-frame. You don’t really think the Federation has been sitting on its hands while our people fight for their lives? Your minions might dog the work; we’ve had to set strict overtime limits.”

  Admiral Fletcher leaned forward, his face turning angry. “Let me tell you one thing, Merriweather. We have over two hundred murders attributed to you, some of them done personally. You, sir, will pay.

  “Charlie Gull tells me that you may lash out in a fury and hurt our people and yours. I know all about your plans to extend your life with the help of the Union. Well, I’m here to tell you that those men who made those promises are dead or in custody, except your Mr. Cramer. Good luck with him! He’s described as a weasel!

  “You are a coward, Merriweather! You have no stomach for personal risk. You know how the aliens treat a planet they stomp? A thousand gigaton weapons. That’s a hundred and fifty mile diameter crater -- every hundred and ten miles. That means the craters overlap, Merriweather. Your Plan B entails riding it out in a deep underground bunker.

  “The bursts will cave in any bunker. And the radiation burst, even through rock, will penetrate a lot deeper than we can dig. It doesn’t matter where on Campbell’s you hide, the aliens will kill you if they win and we’ll dig you out if we do. Better for everyone if you just go quietly.”

  “It’s not possible! It takes light decades to get here from Earth!”

  “Merriweather, we are a whole lot smarter than you. We have relays a light year apart. Put the relay in place, send the latch-frame signals and voila! You have your communications net in place in a year.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “I don’t want any accidents. Moreover, we are sure the aliens are listening. You figure it out.”

  Commander Black had returned and had listened to the last part of the conversation. “Well?” Merriweather demanded.

  “Chairman Merriweather, we are screwed. We’ve assumed that the research was being shared -- it might have been, but not with us.

  “Latch-frame relays are simple and well understood. There is nothing conceptually significant about relays every light year. And he’s right, with those relays in place it would only take a year to hook up the entire Federation.”

  “All those ships...”

  Commander Black shook his head. “A cheap price to pay if you think about it. We knew the Picket Force was extensive -- it had to be. No one has ever said how many systems have been picketed. If the Union extended the detection range to a dozen light years -- it would only have happened a few months ago.”

  “What’s this crap about the aliens listening?”

  “Sir, that’s about the worst news of all. They have to have a way to detect the alien bases. They don’t expect the aliens to survive long enough to get a message off. They seem to think that circumlocution might work, but they are confident of stopping them.” Commander Black stopped talking for a moment.

  “Sir, I rate it likely that they have intercepted alien message traffic and have translated it to some degree.”

  “And now we know why the alien attacks have failed in the last two years,” Merriweather mused. He looked up a Commander Black. “Is Plan B still feasible?”

  “Sir, as soon as I heard about telepaths I modified the plan. I don’t know where we will go, and the one man who knows was never allowed within a thousand kilometers of the Capital. The new location has no relation to the first. We will go to a meet point, and then on to the site. No one left behind knows where we will have gone.”

  Richard Merriweather nodded. “I’ve passed the ‘implement’ messages. I don’t see any alternative to going with Plan B. If the aliens win -- then Fletcher is right. We’ll be dead. I really can’t believe that the Federation will saturation bomb nearly a billion people, but neither do I have confidence in the fealty of the people if the Federation makes a demonstration.”

  “Next time we will better disperse our forces. We will have to make a special effort against telepaths,” Commander Black agreed.

  The dictator of Campbell’s stood. “And a special, unanticipated, benefit -- we are not going to need any of those Union slugs.”

  “We would have failed miserably if they’d sent a telepath!

  “One thing, Black. Between you and me. There will be a next time, and next time we will make an even better effort. The Union points out a strategy -- we buy a colony ship and take it far away from the Federation. In a direction different than the aliens and the Union.”

  “We don’t know where either are, sir.”

  “We know the aliens are beyond Adobe someplace. Invite Cramer to join us on Plan B. Invite his bimbo with him, so he’ll think he is still valuable once he tells us where the Union is.”

  “I can do that, sir. We built considerable spare capacity into Plan B.”

  “And the escape mechanism?”

  “Tested several times, that includes human testing.”

  “Let’s get going! No need to waste time,” Merriweather said.

  “If we take ten times the number of colonists, we would have a faster ramp-up of our population.”

  “We still do not have the full life-extension treatments.”

  “We’ll be healthy another hundred years. We send a ship back thirty years from now, kidnap some doctors and give them an offer they can’t refuse. We grab a couple, in case some of them won’t cooperate. Grab ones with kids. Threaten the little bastards and their parents will fold right up.”

  *** ** ***

  “It is a simple equation with multiple vari
ables,” Yolanda Ruiz told the assembled officers. “They know we can detect them further than they can detect us, although they haven’t seen our new detectors, so they think the difference is much less than it actually is.

  “Mostly they seem to stop about a light day from the gas giant, although they stopped a little further away at Earth. We feel this time they will have an urgent message for their ships, telling their fleet that we seem to be able to read their messages.

  “They will undoubtedly try to transmit at the first possible moment -- but their fleet is coming at a bad angle. There is only one intersection with a line drawn outward from the gas giant to their course -- at two-thirds of a light day. Since they don’t have FTL communications, they are highly constrained.

  “Further, the aliens have a noted two minute and change delay before they can resume High Fan. If, as at Earth in the Big Battle, they take the opportunity to launch fighters, it should make no difference.

  “Millisecond jumpers in the first few salvoes, followed by normal High Fan homing missiles should eliminate the threat.

  “The biggest risk is if they drop further out, reorient, and try to intercept a message sooner. Except that is a waste of time as Einstein guarantees a late delivery. Their best move would be to reorient, and cut the beam even closer to the gas giant.

  “The plan is to launch a hundred gigaton bombs on millisecond homing missiles at all the gas giant nightsides. If we detect the start of a transmission anyway, we’ll use a second wave of homers to deliver another strike package.

  “As short as the alien transmissions are, they will have a lot to report. We will have all the Home Defense fighters and cruisers up, and the regular Fleet defensive screen. We will hide all of the reinforcements but two Fleet carriers and two battle moons. All of the battle moons and the carriers will be one High Fan minute from the ambush point.”

  She looked at the assembled admirals. “It is said no plan survives contact with the enemy. Our battle moons will fire forty percent of their loads into the ambush area. Our fighters will each fire one of their three missiles. Two-thirds will join the Campbell’s Home Defense englobing Campbell’s, while half the battle moons will remain in the ambush area for mop up. The remainder of the battle moons will withdraw to a location remote from any real estate, ready to engage anything from Campbell’s or the aliens.