by Gary Weston
'Putting it that way, I didn't hear one valid reason not to try to land. When the time comes, see if you can find us a hole in the storm for us to crawl through and get us down there.'
Clifton laughed. 'Putting it that way, what could possibly go wrong?'
Chapter 7
Major Otto Gunther, Tricor Base Mission Commander, knew his career was in tatters as he sat on Spider One, the black battle cruiser bristling with weapons and the ship used by General Trish Loretti, Tricor Military Commander, Gunther could hardly look her in the eyes. That she was angry, didn't come close.
Her black leather uniform hugged her figure in a most seductive way many men, and quite a few women would find irresistible, but to her it was merely functional. The twin battle scars across her right cheek took nothing away from her physical appeal. Not that she cared about being admired or affection of any kind. What physical needs she had were satisfied by whomever she wanted at the time. People, and men in particular, like those in her her vast army of her deadly security force were to be used, nothing more. They were all pawns in her game-plan, Gunther included. Loretti paced the steel deck as she called him all the names under the sun and then some.
'What were you trying to achieve? The directive to close up the Base came from me. Why hasn't that been done?'
'You know why. The mission.'
Loretti stormed to the table, pounded it with her fist and then leaned on it with both clenched fists, her pools of black eyes burning with the fury boiling up inside her.
'I don't care about anything other than you disobeying me. You are under my command. You do not just do as you please, ignoring my direct orders.'
'I hoped to put the case for keeping me on here, in person with you. If you'll just...'
The table was hammered again. 'You do not have to remind me of the significance and importance of the mission. But there will be no mission, if the Tricor loses the war. We have sustained heavy losses, especially in the south. I've lost many experienced officers and I want you heading up an attack force.'
'Things must be even worse than I imagined if you want me at the front. I'm with the scientific division. I have been for my fifteen years in the force. I'd be less than useless as an attack commander.'
Loretti snapped, 'You certainly wouldn't be my first choice. And yes, things are that bad.'
'Doesn't that make the mission even more of a priority in that case? If we really do the unthinkable and finish of Earth, the mission holds the one chance for the survival for the human race.'
'And just what could you accomplish with no available communication to the Goliath and loss of control to the planet terraformers?'
Gunther said, 'We're working on it.'
'Progress?'
Gunther shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'We think we have isolated the defective unit. I've a team making a new one from scratch. Of course the war means certain parts are unobtainable, even used ones, so we are having to redesign from the ground up.'
'Is that even possible with what you have available?'
'Anything is possible, General. How long it will take I couldn't say. I will say this, however. As slim as our chances of success are, a slim chance is better than no chance at all.'
Loretti said, 'Exactly what President Maxim and I thought you would say. He's actually more on your side in all this than I am. Reluctantly, we have agreed to allow you ten full days. At the end of that time if you are unsuccessful, you will shut the damn place down. The mission will be considered irretrievably compromised and you and your people will be used in the war. Do you understand?'
'I do, General.'
'I also want anyone not directly working on the project out of the Base immediately.'
'But...'
'I hear that word one more time, I will have you shot for insubordination. Damn it, I'll shoot you myself.'
'Understood, General. I can let another two go. More than those, we simply can't do the repairs.'
'Very well,' said Loretti. 'Go. Send them out. They can make their own way to other units. I have better things to do than banter with you. You are such a disappointment to me.'
Gunther grinned and stood to leave. 'I always were.' The airlock opened and the breeze from outside stroked his face. 'Any news of Bridget?'
A hint of unease crossed Loretti's face. 'As far as I know, our daughter is alive and well. She has a command unit of her own in the east and is a great warrior.'
'Only a mother like you could come out with that. Pass on my love if you can.'
'Gunther...'
'Yes?'
'Go before I shoot you.'
Gunther chuckled, winked, then stomped down the ramp. He had barely reached the entrance to the Base when he heard the Spider take off behind him. He didn't look back.
Chapter 8
President Sol Maxim, President of the Western Tricor, swirled the finest red wine in an antique cut crystal goblet. 'A pleasurable meeting with Gunther?'
Loretti pulled off her black leather gloves, sat in an overstuffed red leather armchair and annoyed her host by resting her booted feet on the priceless, ornate coffee table, with the onyx top.
'It went as we anticipated.'
Maxim chewed on his lower lip as Loretti did the unthinkable and took a small cigar from her tunic pocket, lit up and blew smoke in his direction. She was the only one on the planet who could get away with such preposterous behaviour, and then only just.
'He doesn't wish to abandon the mission?'
'Gunther sees it as his personal responsibility. He is more scientist than military. Always was. He supervised turning the mountain into the Base. He did a pretty good job of it, making it virtually impregnable. But more than that, he worked with Jacobs to build the Goliath and equip it. All this achieved during the on again off again war.'
'You seem to have developed a grudging respect for him.'
'Nothing I'd ever admit to. But I do understand his commitment to the mission, even now.'
Maxim said, 'Commitment is one thing. He has lost control of the mission.'
'True. I have given him ten days to regain control. I doubt if he can.'
'And if he can't?'
Loretti smiled, the scars on her cheek creasing. 'I threatened to send him to the front.'
Maxim smiled. 'Always an option.'
'True. Oh. How is the war going, by the way?'
'The official version?'
Maxim shrugged. 'The truth will do.'
Loretti took her boots off the table, pulled a tube of metal from a pouch on her belt, balanced it on one end and pressed the tip. 'My latest report.'
A dome of lights emanated from the tube, covering most of the table. It was a swirling mass of colours and shapes. 'We are the blue. Note we are surrounding three of their countries. Drone soldiers on the ground, also on the mobile laser cannon, directed from our command ships. Spider class fighters with the air strikes. This area here is our objective. Take it out and we win.'
Maxim leaned forward, not being completely fooled by Loretti. 'Very little progress as I see it, from your last report. Oh! But do my eyes deceive me? This area is where our forces are being totally slaughtered?'
'It happens in war. We can't have it all our own way. Perhaps if you and the Tricor Centors had some courage we would be better equipped.'
Maxim groaned softly at Loretti's digs, knowing they were intended directly at his leadership. 'The world of politics and budgets are inextricably linked. It was either the war effort, or the mission.'
'And we all know how that went.' It was time to go. She made a point of stubbing her cigar out on the table, closed the tube and tucked it into it's pouch. 'The mission is lost.'
'The mission was doomed from the start. We...mankind...needed something to cling on to. The mission seemed like a good idea at the time.'
'Men. Such fools.'
Loretti stormed away to the Spider and her ship took off.
Chapter 9
Lieutenant Giles Stapl
es didn't like what he was hearing.
'Major Gunther. Surely I would be more use here.'
Gunther grasped both shoulders of the young military technician. 'And of course, I couldn't agree more with you, Staples. To be honest, I fully expected for the Base to be shut down completely and for General Loretti to demote me so much I'd be swabbing out the headquarters underground sewers or even be shot. So. Blessed with at least a breathing space to keep this mission viable, you and Sergeant Willis have to leave to make this possible.'
'And we have to make our own way like lambs to the slaughter to the front? That's a thousand miles from here. One hell of a walk, sir.'
'You two can take the armoured Charger. You'll be there in three days.'
'I appreciate that, sir,' said Staples. 'I just love the idea of me and Willis reaching a certain death sooner.'
Gunther said, 'That's the chance you'll have to take.' Gunther had called Staples away from the others to talk to him alone. He stared into the lieutenant's green eyes and knew much depended on the trust he had in the young man and the consequences of misplacing that trust. 'Get your belongings and take the Charger outside. I'll come with you to see you off.'
'Sir?'
Gunther placed his finger to his lips. 'Just do it, lieutenant. Willis can catch up later.'
'Sir?'
Gunther touched his lips with one finger as he waggled a warning with his other hand. Staples nodded then hurried away. Eleven minutes later, he had taken the six-seat Charger outside and the major climbed in by his side. Lieutenant Staples was letting the mighty engine idle as he waited for Willis to catch them up.
'Sir. You have something to say?'
'Do you believe in the mission, son?'
'What sort of a question is that? To be here with you and the others working on the only possible salvation of the human race is as big as it gets. Isn't there any way I can stay?'
Gunther could hardly look at Staples' boyish face and the green eyes with that pleading, "Don't do this" stare. From his tunic pocket, Gunther pulled a shiny disc the size of his thumbnail.
'Take this and guard it with your life. I want you to join the third division.'
'I didn't realise you hated me that much.'
Gunther pressed the disc into Staples' hand. He was about to speak when there came a hammering on his door which he ignored. 'I need you to deliver this.'
More hammering.
'Sir,' said Staples. 'Sergeant Willis wants to get in here.'
'He can damn well wait. I know you two are old friends, but you're the one I trust with this, not Willis, and neither should you. Nothing against Willis in any way, but the less people I trust to do this, the safer I feel with this. I'm giving you one last order, lieutenant. Deliver this. But do not reveal this order to anyone, not even Willis.'
More hammering.
'Any particular reason I shouldn't trust Willis, sir?'
'Yes. I simply don't want you trusting anyone. Join the third division. After that, you and Willis can do whatever you want.'
In-between the hammering, Staples tried to think. 'I think I understand, sir. But does everything depend on the message being delivered?'
'More than you could possibly imagine.'
'Ok. Just one tiny detail. Who is the lucky recipient of this fine disc?'
Gunther leaned over to whisper in Staples' ear and the surprised expression on the lieutenant's face told the major he had hit the spot. 'Do not say that name out-loud. Not here, not ever. Not until the disc is in the hands of the one it is intended for. Do you understand?'
'I...I...Sir. Are you sure?'
'Totally. You know what you have to do, Staples. Good luck.'
Gunther yanked hard on the vehicle's door handle, 'Nothing more to say.'
Gunther climbed out of the Charger, slapped the puzzled sergeant on a huge shoulder, wished him luck, walked to a safe distance and watched the confused young men drive away.
As the cloud of red dust billowed up from the desert floor, Gunther watched the vehicle rumble along, he knew everything he was doing had only an insignificant chance of working. There was nothing more he could do but to leave it all up to any gods bothering to listen. Opening the smallest door into the Base, Gunther stepped inside, letting the bomb-proof door slam shut with a bang behind him. He keyed in the code to lock the door, realising that hope dangled by a flimsy thread.
Chapter 10
'Anything, Anne?' Sam Clifton already knew the answer, but felt obliged to ask regardless. Lee didn't look up at him as she continued tuning the equipment.
'Nope. Either we are still too far away, or, and this is my best bet, that atmospheric storm is still blocking us out.'
'So. Right. Which means you're doing what exactly?'
'Just because I don't expect to achieve anything, doesn't stop me trying. You have a problem with that?'
'Hey,' said Clifton. 'I only asked. No need to chew my ears off.'
Lee sighed and finally looked away from her instruments and at Clifton's face. She had always thought he had a kind, friendly face. 'Sorry. I just hoped...Sam. I really don't fancy our chances of attempting a landing with that storm to get through. Do you think Jay Jay will insist we try?'
'Only if we have no alternatives. You know the captain. He'll not take unnecessary chances. On the other hand, if finding out what we need to means us landing, he'll weigh it all up and decide. Like the Goliath, the shuttles are well built and coated in marsillium. Practically impervious to anything.'
Lee knew that. 'It isn't the shell that bothers me. Storm fried electrical systems concerns me a lot, though.'
Clifton realised it wasn't any use trying to put positive spins on it. 'It's my main concern, also. And naturally I've been running various scenarios through my mind. We have triplicate, independent systems which I can isolate. I can shut down anything but the bare essentials to take us through the atmosphere. If on entry we have a problem I'll shut everything down and let us free-fall through the storm, then once out of it I'll kick in the next systems to land this bird. We then use that to get us back to the Goliath then if that sustains damage, with the third system we get back to the Goliath. Happy with that?'
'Hmm. Who are you trying to convince, me or you?'
With a grin, Clifton said, 'Both, with a little luck.'
'Luck isn't what we'll need to survive that storm, and as you said, not just once but we'll need a repeat performance.' Lee turned off her instruments and patted the blank screen. 'Forget luck. Send out for a couple of miracles.'
'Top of my to do list. Anne. We've come too damn far for this to fail. That's gotta count for something, right?'
'A philosopher as well as an engineer. No end to your talents. Oh. Captain. You get a good rest?'
Jacobs settled into the co-pilot's seat. 'A couple of hours. Any luck penetrating that storm?'
'Nothing,' admitted Lee. 'Maybe when we get closer.'
Jacobs glanced over at Clifton, then back at Lee. 'I'm sure that would be a great relief to all of us. Another twenty hours and we'll find out. Have you two eaten?'
'Yes,' said Clifton.
Lee said, 'I'm off to try to sleep. 'See you later.'
As Lee made her way to the back of the shuttle, Jacobs said, 'Anne getting a little nervous?'
'She's a professional. She'll cope.'
Jacobs turned his attention to the magnified image of Spero, her mysteries completely hidden by the swirling mass of the deadly storm. 'Us against that. Let's hope it doesn't come to it.'
Even as he said it, Jacobs didn't believe it would work out that way.
Chapter 11
The hill gave a panoramic view and the stunted bushes provided partial cover. Below them and less than fifty miles away, the carnage of war was clearly evident. Sergeant Nathan Willis broke the silence.
'We knew things were bad, but this...'
Lieutenant Giles Staples replied, 'And the fools are still slugging it out. Three ships blasting at anything still st
anding. At least they're our ships.'
From the ground a laser cannon returned fire and one ship was hit, its own lasers streaking the sky as it spun burning out of control. It smashed into the ground, then the two remaining ships took revenge and used their combined laser power to destroy the enemy cannon. That done, the two ships hovered then sped away and vanished over the horizon.
Willis said, 'Nothing left to destroy here. They're off to the front.'
'To join in the action in the south by the look of it.'
'We'll have to detour around this city to join up with them.'
'No,' said Staples. 'Set a course for the east.'
A puzzled expression crossed the sergeant's face. 'East? What's the point of that? If we head south we can be in the fight sooner.'
'Don't argue, sergeant. Just do it.'
Willis keyed in the coordinates to take them around the smouldering city in an easterly direction. 'Ok. It's no difference to me where I end up dead. East or south it's still the same dead.'
The armoured Charger rolled down the hill and veered off along the remains of a highway running parallel to a river that flowed through the city. The river was deep and wide, and in its slow flowing brown waters several corpses were carried along it to the sea.
'They must have dived in after being burnt by laser fire,' said Staples. 'Not a direct hit, just enough to get the skin fried.'
'Hopefully they drowned quickly,' said Willis, grimly. He stopped looking at the river, concentrating on avoiding the rubble and the burnt out vehicles littering the highway. Opportunist birds fed off the remains of the people, one pausing to stare at the Charger, an eyeball in its beak, bloody tendrils hanging down. The Charger's path became blocked by a mobile laser tank, still smouldering.
'Enemy,' said Staples. 'Probably the tank that hit our ship.'
'They're still grunts like us just trying to survive. Hey. I see a live one.'