Deadly Voyage (Logan Ryvenbark's Saga Book 1)

by Lavina Giamusso

  “I would suggest a triangle pattern when they are dropped. The first two would disintegrate any Moloch in the bomb's ten mile range. Drop the third below them. Due to thermodynamics I won’t go into – I figure you don’t care about the details – that would give you the maximum effect. The surviving Molochs would need about a day to crawl over their dead colleagues. It’s not easy marching over land that’s been the site of an atomic blast.”

  I nodded. If worst came to worst, and now this was a very real possibility, I would have to leave the weapons here on Vega. Maybe come back another time. But it would take time to dig down, excavate the cities, and bring the weapons up. And time was one thing we didn’t have anymore. My first priority was to have the Earthmovers complete their job in digging the canyons. We could hold off the Molochs until the Aristolans were loaded in the transports. Then everyone would exit and leave Vega to the Molochs.

  I hated to leave the weapons behind, but that might be the only option. I had ordered Eric that pilots were to take off and drop the bombs the second the Molochs made a move toward us. We had some smaller fire bombs in our arsenal, so I told him to load up with the smaller bombs after the atomic ones were dropped. We were going to use everything we had against the Molochs. Maybe the Molochs were flammable. Maybe just one spark and they would ignite into orange flames that would spread across the valley. That would be nice. Chances against it were high but…

  I buzzed Carmen. She sounded cranky and irritable.

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  “Carmen, may I remind you that I am officially your commanding officer? Let’s have some courtesy and respect.”

  “OK. Yeah, what is it, sir?”

  “There. That’s better. I’m checking again on the shuttles. How is everything going?”

  “You have too much time on your hands, sir. They’re going just as smoothly as the last time you annoyed me. How long ago was that? Five minutes? Haven’t had any problems. The Aristolans don’t seem to be worried about space flight. No panic, no problems. I noticed something about them as they were loading, sir. Did you realize that there are no old people among them? Well, maybe old, but no one is feeble. No one has any signs of age. No wrinkles, no weakness, no limps.”

  “I did notice the amazing youngness of the race. They age much slower than we do, and we’re Genrich.”

  “Ah, but we’re not innocent. I never knew guilt could age you.”

  “We’re on the side of the angels here. Maybe we can gain a few years. We are departing as soon as we get the passengers into the ships.”

  “But the weapons…?”

  “Will have to be left until another time. We can’t risk losing everybody in this command to grab some weapons. It will take a long time to recover them, and we can’t hold off the Molochs that long. All non-essential personnel will also be loaded into the transports. I’m giving that order, too.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I buzzed Rab next. He sounded less cranky than Carmen.

  “There have been no problems with the Earthmovers. All three of them are zooming along. We’ve had no problems and no delays. All the shift changes have gone like clockwork - back when we had clocks that is. It has been incredibly boring standing around watching these guys work.” Rab said.

  “Let’s hope it stays boring. In the military boring is a virtue.”

  “Another few hours and we should have the canyons ready. Anybody who runs through the valleys will get a nasty surprise and a long fall.”

  Gen. Custer had a much more impressive-looking command center than Major Ryvenbark. The computers hummed with the melody of digital efficiency. Aides stared into computers while their fingers roamed on keyboards. A dozen large screens hung overhead, although most merely showed the blackness of space. The facility was on Red Alert. As was the Federation. Three dozen of the finest warships the Federation owned were moving toward Fort MacDonald. He thought that fact should ease his mind. But it didn’t. When the fort was built, the Federation acknowledged the possibility of an invasion from beyond the galaxy. So the facility was provided the finest defenses, including the planetary shield that was thought to be impenetrable.

  But in military history, what was thought to be impenetrable was often very penetrable as time went by. And it had been twenty years since the station was built.

  Gen. Custer often thought it ironic that he carried the name of the defeated general at Little Big Horn. As he sat in his chair staring at the humming computers and the black screens, the irony was less amusing.

  “Everything is calm, for the moment, sir.” said Col. Brock Offerman, his second in command.

  “Those three words ‘for the moment’ are the key. I hope that phrase isn’t subject to change.”

  “I agree we need to take all precautions, which we have. But there is also the possibility that this is a false alarm. Maybe those aliens at the rock table were simply playing a video game.”

  Custer gave a bitter chuckle. “I doubt that. But perhaps we all should. Play video games. Conquer and invade planets in virtual space, not reality. We could all play games and the galaxy would be forever peaceful. That sounds good. No real wars, just phony ones. Colorful ones in 3-D space. Entertainment galore but no deaths or blood. That would be nice.”

  “Of course then we’d be out of a job.” Offerman said.

  Custer scanned the screens. A few lonely stars contrasted with the blackness. “Our scanners reveal nothing, Colonel?”

  “No, sir. Nothing is in the red zone. Not even close. All our equipment tells us nothing is out of the ordinary. It’s another peaceful day in space.”

  “We’ve had a lot of those. Hopefully we won’t break our streak.” Custer said.

  Any potential invasion would have to hit and destroy Fort MacDonald first, he thought. Invaders could not leave a hostile fort behind them. They would have to annihilate it. Which is what the Federation planners knew when they built it. Fort MacDonald was the canary in the coal mine. The enemy would have to strike here first.

  But the military has to consider all options, Custer reminded himself. He eased back in his chair and wondered if traditional war wisdom was correct. It was sound strategy. An army did not want to leave an enemy base behind it. The base could launch attacks. But wars in space were often fought differently than old-fashioned wars on land or sea. There was a vast amount of space between Fort MacDonald and the nearest solar system. Custer rolled the thought over in his mind.

  Assume there is an invasion force - the mysterious Saturnians, preparing to attack. If they do attack Fort MacDonald, the Federation is alerted. The entire federation goes into attack mode, mobilizing all members to launch a massive counter attack. They rush their forces toward the invading army.

  But what if the Saturnians did the unthinkable? What if they simply went around the fort and instead attacked the nearest solar system? Then their invading army would be already well within Federation space before alerting defenders. In theory, the Federation would be surprised. The Saturnians could annihilate one solar system and move to another before the Federation could be mobilized. The fort they ignored would be in their rear but could be immobilized at a later date. Possibly by the second wave of invaders?

  It was something to consider, Custer thought. The fort did have the best defenses, including the planetary shield. The longer the invaders took to destroy the fort, the longer the Federation had to prepare a defense. And the longer the first solar system had to mobilize. An attack on the fort would undercut the element of surprise for the Saturnians. A detour around it would preserve the military advantage of surprise.

  I stood before the fifty-mile long, ten-mile deep tunnel and, for a moment, marveled at the wonders of engineering. The orange Earthmover wasn’t digging but panted like an exhausted animal. The sun bounced rays off the metal sides and shot orange lasers at me. A slight breeze blew the leaves of the trees as if they were applauding the accomplishment. I applauded too. As I looked down the ten-mile tunnel I o
pened my lips and smiled. The tension that had threatened to crack nerves and splinter bones had dissipated. As far as the eye could see a Vega subway had been built. It was a mile across, farther than any long jumper could vault. If the Molochs tried a massive charge they’d fall into the inner parts of the canyon. They were not human, but I doubted that whatever they were made of could survive the fall. Not having brains they might not even try to avoid the pit. They might just keep charging toward their goal.

  Rab stood beside me, cigar hanging out of his mouth. The breeze blew the smoke toward me. I didn’t mind at all.

  “This is fantastic.” I said. “A magnificent achievement. And desperately needed.”

  “Amazing what you can do working 24 hours a day with good technology.” He slapped the Earthmover’s side. “Best machines in the galaxy. They don’t get tired either. Shall we start digging up the cities?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think we’ll have time. We’ll have to save Vega the old-fashioned way. With weapons and guts. A pity, but we need to get off this planet as soon as possible.”

  The pillboxes, ugly and massive, stood behind me. The name was appropriate. The five in this section were simple square boxes of fortified cement. Five machine gun barrels sticking out of a tiny opening. The outside was not supposed to be impressive. It was the inside we counted on. Automated, it was run in the command center five miles away. 100 rounds per five seconds. When firing there was a roar like nothing you’d ever heard. But once heard it was impossible to forget.

  Belen’s blue-clad troops were in position on the ground and in trees, ready to fire. I regretted again the mistake with the mist. The perfect defensive weapon. And perfectly useless. But we were as prepared as we could be. Two more days to get the last Aristolans off the planet. Then we’d take them to a nice safe place. If there were any nice safe places in the galaxy. Some of my squad indicated they’d like to stay with the Aristolans. The Aristolans were agreeable. I wondered how Carmen would fit in. We were not exactly the best of friends but I would miss her.

  A shuttle carrying a load of Aristolans rose slowly up. It climbed smoothly. The red streak coming from the west was much faster. In seconds it hit the ascending craft. An explosion split the skies as smoke and flames erupted. Bodies and metal fell from the sky. Most of the craft had been blown apart but about a fifth stayed intact. A flame of red surrounded it as gravity snatched it and slammed it to the ground.

  I couldn't believe my eyes.

  “Rad, where did that come from?”

  “I don’t know, Major. Not yet.”

  “Scramble the TigerSharks. Get the jets into the air now!” I hit the buzzer that contacted every base and every soldier on the planet. “All shuttles are grounded. Do not take off. I repeat, do not take off! Pilots, get to your jets! I want those missiles shot down.”

  A muffled voice came on the line.

  “You’ve got another problem, Major. The Molochs are headed this way. About five seconds ago they all turned north and started marching. They’re waving their spears and shouting bloody murder.”

  “Stephanie, Eric, John, get to your jets. I need those bombs dropped immediately. I want to see mushroom clouds within five minutes.”

  I clicked the mini-screen on my arm as I ran back to the command center. The Molochs picked up speed. What had been a walk was now a trot. Their incisors were out, sparkling in the sun. They raised their spears as they increased their speed.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, hold your positions. The planet’s welcoming committee will be here soon. Fire if they get in range.”

  I looked up and saw three jets zoom by, heading toward the Molochs. In theory we had “clean’ bombs, meaning there would be radioactive fallout but about 90 percent less than the radiation from the first, more primitive atomic explosives. But there would still be a residue. If the computer had miscalculated the target point, we would need our bio-suits.

  I saw the three other jets headed west.

  “Carmen, what’s happening?”

  “I don’t see anything else, Major.” she said. “One missile. That may have been all. The sky is clear.”

  “Keep heading west. When we discover the coordinate of where that thing was shot, I want it taken out. Wipe it off the planet!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I heard the rumbling. Enough to shake a mountain. I was surprised the one in front of me wasn’t trembling.

  The Molochs. All two million of them.

  The Molochs ran as one unit. Two million stomping together as they headed our way. The ground trembled. The trees and leaves shook. Only the powerful Earthmovers stayed still. But no doubt they would shake soon. Noisy and unnerving.

  If you live in the West you know how the phrase “thundering herd” became part of the vocabulary. Even a dozen 1,500 pound horses galloping over a range can sound like thunder on the run. The very ground shakes. The trees tremble. Get two dozen or three dozen or those muscled stallions and they make a sound you can never forget. Now imagine two million men stomping at the same time on their annihilation march.

  I never thought I’d find the sound of an atomic blast comforting, but I changed my mind. I wanted to see that mushroom cloud sooner rather than later. The jets were almost out of sight now. Another few minutes and the stomping sound of the Molochs would be muted.

  “How far away are you, Stephanie?”

  “One minute from our target point. Get ready. There’s going to be a loud boom. Three loud booms for that matter. Cover your eyes.”

  Rab and I retreated behind one of the pill boxes. The mountain obscured our vision. Then we heard the deep bellowing Ka-Boom. Ear-splitting. A sickening, stomach-churning blast that could turn knees to water. As orange fire and thick gray smoke bracketed the mountain, the second blast roared. Even the thick-walled pill box rattled like a tea cup and saucer in the hand of an arthritic. I glanced at my mini-computer on my wrist but there was nothing to see. Just fire and black smoke. I could make out a few dead bodies, if bodies was the accurate word. But that was it.

  I shook my head. And listened. The horrible stomping had stopped. Only a stillness remained. The Molochs were not defeated but at least for a few minutes they had slowed down. I almost yelled with delight. God bless atomic bombs. I rang Carmen up again.

  “Carmen, what’s happening?”

  “Nothing in the air. No more missiles. All is clear. We have the coordinates and are flying there to say hello.”

  “Leave one jet behind. If any missile is fired again, I want a backup. If it comes this way shoot it down. I’m putting the shuttles in the air again. There’s no time to waste.”

  “OK, it will take about thirty minutes to get to our target. I’ll leave Eric here. He can shoot down anything that gets by me.”

  “Great. And come back alive, my friend.”

  “Shucks, Major. I didn’t know you cared. I’m touched. I’ll report back in when we have blasted the target.”

  I switched to Stephanie. “Steph, get the shuttles back in the air.”

  “You sure, sir?”

  “Yes. We can’t waste time. It’s a risk, but there’s a greater risk of staying here too long. We have to get out as soon as possible. Start loading.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The third blast came. Ten miles south of the two previous ones. Slightly muffled. May not have been as loud due to distance, but I was sure it was just as devastating. The Moloch stomping had not returned. That was a good sign. I looked at Rab and then back to our blue-clad soldiers.

  “You need to say anything to your troops?” I asked.

  “No, they know what to do. Kill anything that moves. Anything that’s not us, that is.”

  The three jets reappeared, sailing smoothly across the blue sky. I hit the buzzer again. “One of you stay in the air. In case you have to shoot down a missile.”