"I couldn't be more pleased, Maggie."
He came out holding a cauldron filled with a bubbling broth in one hand, some bowls and spoons in the other; with a clunk, he dropped the cauldron on one of the tables, sending some of the contents dribbling down the side. Placing bowls in front of each of them, he ladled out a generous portion each, more slopping over the rim. Orlova dipped a spoon into the hot liquid, taking some to her mouth – and promptly took a second and a third, Caine hastily following suit.
"I haven't introduced myself yet; I'm Lieutenant Louisa Caine. Off Alamo."
"Ah, you are my daughter's superior, then? I don't recognize the uniform. At least, what remains of it!" he laughed.
In between mouthfuls, Orlova replied, "I'm in the Triplanetary Fleet, not the Service. The three planetary navies are unifying."
"It has been a long time, I suppose things change. What ship are you with?"
"The battlecruiser Alamo," Caine said, taking another spoonful of broth, a trace of the liquid escaping down her lips. "Which is still in orbit."
"The orbital defense satellites got you? That was your shuttle we saw?"
"Yes, Papa. They seemed inert when we first detected them; Captain Marshall sent us out to inspect one of them."
Orlov's eyes widened, and he slammed his hands flat down on the table, grinning. "I should have known! I knew Bill Marshall would come back to get me in the end! How is the old ben-zona, anyway?"
"Bill Marshall?" Caine said.
"What's he doing on Alamo, anyway? Did Hercules make it home?"
Orlova looked at Caine, then said, "Alamo is under the command of Lieutenant-Captain Daniel Marshall. His son."
"Danny? Danny made Captain? The last time I saw him he was about to enter the Academy, Bill showed me holo-images of him. He was going to try and pull some strings to get him on Hercules, I think he was hoping to get him my old job. I take it he's his father's son enough to try and get you back?"
"He'll get us back," Caine nodded. "Danny will find a way, if he has to stay in orbit for months."
"Hercules waited as well, as long as it dared. Three weeks it was up there in high orbit, before it left." He shook his head, "Bill winked the ship a couple of times when it passed overhead. Then it left. She came back a couple of times, but never had any luck getting me. I couldn't even contact them."
"When was that?"
"Eleven years ago, Maggie. Eleven long years." He smiled, "Your Papa made Captain, Maggie, as well! Battlefield promotion. I was on an inspection trip as well, we were hoping to scavenge for parts from those satellites. After we'd failed to make contact with the people down here."
"You didn't stop?"
"There's a war on, Lieutenant. We couldn't afford the time to see what was down here."
Caine's mouth opened. "Captain Orlov, the war's over."
He stopped dead. "Over?"
"The final peace treaty was signed at Vesta, back in 2157. Not long after you were marooned here. We won."
"Then the three worlds are free." He nodded in evident satisfaction. "This is a lot to take in, all in one gulp, Lieutenant." He looked at his daughter, smiling, "But worth it, well worth it! I'm just sorry you are stuck here."
"Danny will get us out of here, Captain Orlov," Caine said. "I assure you of that."
"I know he will try, but those particle beams are instant death." He took another mouthful of soup, then stood up, making his way over to the bar, "This is a cause for celebration, at least. My daughter, after all these years." He pulled down some mugs and bottles, bringing them over to the table. "Now, tell me what you do on that ship of yours. I remember an Alamo in the Callisto Patrol."
"Security Officer."
"And a good one," Caine added.
Orlov grinned through his beard, "I expect nothing less from my daughter. I still can't believe you joined the service."
"It's a long story, Papa. Captain Marshall convinced me that it was where I needed to be."
"He was right, quite right. Especially as it brought you here."
She looked around the room, "What is this place, Papa?"
He grinned while he poured, "You know that when the war was over I wanted to open a bar? Well, so I have. Orlov's, the finest bar in Yreka. A town of around five thousand souls."
"Yreka?"
"It's the nearest thing we have to a capital. Which also makes it dangerous; did anyone other than the Tartars see you?"
Caine looked over at the door, "I don't think so. Tartars?"
"I doubt we are in any immediate danger. This planet is called Jefferson; the original settlers arrived eighty-one years ago, a colonization party from the United States on Earth. They found a world that was totally inhabitable, a planet where humans could live, breathe, and even eat."
"Eat?" Orlova's eyes widened. "This..."
"This is local food, Maggie. The original settlers eventually decided that someone must have terraformed this planet using stock from Earth itself, tens of thousands of years ago. There was a great civilization here once, buried in the depths of the jungle, but those people are long gone." He took a sip of his drink, foam sticking to his beard, "They began to build settlements, farms, mines, and create a new life for themselves, but that changed around the turn of the century. The planet was attacked."
"Attacked?"
"Conquered from space. They called themselves the 'Cabal'. The satellites are theirs."
"Particle beams? Papa, we can't do that now!"
“Cabal?” Caine muttered, almost to herself.
He nodded, "I know, I know. Somehow they made a great leap forward. They settled in as owners, building garrisons for their Legion in the larger towns. There is one here, seat of the Governor. A spaceport high in the Central Desert. There was some unrest." He looked from side to side, "There still is."
Orlova smiled, "Why did I suspect you might have a hand in it?"
"Because you know your father, Maggie."
"The Tatars?" Caine asked, pouring herself a drink.
"They arrived soon before I; I think that is how I was able to escape notice. This has happened twice, new groups of settlers brought in, since the Cabal arrived. The Tatars were originally in a camp, but one night they overwhelmed their guards and escaped into the deep jungle. No-one would follow them there. I know of them, for I speak their language. They came..."
"From a planet named Sagdeev. We've been there. Abandoned, now," Caine said.
Orlov nodded. "Yes. All they wanted was to be left alone; I think a few massacred patrols made their point well. I trade with them for goods and supplies, and they make excellent spirits for my customers to enjoy."
"The woman," Orlova asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I am only a human, Maggie." His face turned red. "Understand that I expected – still expect – to stay here for my whole life. I met Elvira when I spent time in one of their villages; we married four years ago." He smiled, "I told her all about you. When she came inside and told me you were here, I could not believe it."
"Mother moved on years ago, Papa."
"She moved on before I left, Maggie. That was long over." He looked around grinning.
"You said there were two arrivals, Captain?"
"Sergei."
She smiled, "Deadeye."
"Ah, I see it now. In the 2120s, a group from the Caribbean Federation were brought in. I don't know what planet they were from.” He paused, taking another swig of his drink. “They settled along the coastline; back in those days, the Cabal's hold was far less tight. That has changed, though; from the stories I have been told, not long before my arrival, just a few years, they began to crack down more tightly. More people on the surface, bigger garrisons. I do not know why; they do not speak of it."
"Will they come for us, Papa?"
"They may try. There are plenty of places where people can hide; if the worst happens, my friends will shelter you in one of their villages for a time. Don't worry about your companion; she is being taken to a p
lace of safety where she can get proper attention." He smiled. "Soon they will get bored and give up the search. "
Caine shook her head, "Hopefully we'll be on Alamo long before then." She looked around, "We need to contact the ship. Have you got a radio, or access to one?"
He shook his head, "Not here. All wireless communication has been banned – another one of the regulations that came in with the crackdown." He smiled conspiratorially, "Which does not mean that there isn't one, of course. The resistance has some, but using them is not so easy."
"Will you introduce us to them?"
"Tonight, when the sun goes down once again. You have arrived at a slightly inconvenient time for secret meetings. Come, I will show you where you can spend the day."
He stood up, leaving his now empty bowl, and walked over to the bar, fumbling around underneath it, mumbling under his breath, "Got it." With a click, the bar started to swing around as he pushed, exposing a hole in the ground, octagonal in shape. Caine's eyes widened, and her face went white.
"That's, that's..."
Orlov looked over, "What is wrong? This leads down to some of those old ruins. Yreka was built on top of one of them, I think it started out as an archaeological dig."
"It's fine, Deadeye. That was months ago," Orlova said. She looked up at her father, "We found some ruins of this type on one of the moons of Uranus, Papa. Deadeye had a bad time there."
The woman came running into the room, taking in Tatar; Orlov's ears raised, and he looked at the two of them, "We don't have any time. The Legion is on the way; I think it's just the usual guards coming off the night patrol, but we can afford no risks. Hide, and quickly."
Leading Caine, Orlova headed to the shaft; a rusty ladder had been installed, and a dim orange light was just visible at the bottom of the hold. She led the way down the ladder, Caine following, then the light from above disappeared as her father re-set the bar. She froze for a second, shaking her head, then continued to descend. The bottom was small chamber, only a few meters across, again of the octagonal design. A couple of crude stools were placed around the light, and there were cans and bottles of food and drink scattered around. Some of them were used, placed carefully in a crate; evidently this wasn't the first time her father had been hiding people from the Legion. Trembling, Caine descended the ladder, looking around the room.
"Any other ways out, Maggie?"
Orlova looked around; there was a doorway in one wall, but it was filled up with stone and rubble, obviously long ago. The only sound – beside her heartbeat – was a drip from the middle of the room, splashing down into a puddle on the floor. The perpetual rain had begun again, just as she had thought.
"I can't find any. I guess we're here for the day, then. At least we're safe for the moment."
"I hope so."
"Have a little faith, Deadeye. I've beaten the odds once today, it seems reasonable that we can beat them again." She felt underneath her seat, pulling out a box filled with magazines. She pulled out one of them, passed the box over to Caine, and started to read.
The day passed slowly in the hot and humid room; Caine and Orlova ran out of dirty jokes just before Elvira dropped down a package containing their lunch, which they wolfed down with relish. During the hours, they looked at every square inch of the room, and holding the light up managed to see some of the same patterns from the abandoned base on Desdemona. That alone sent shivers down Caine's spine; the after-effect of the shock she had experienced was going to live with her for a long time. It was a relief when the hatch finally opened, and Orlov's head peered down.
"You can come up now," he called. "I've closed early for the night."
They gratefully scrambled up the ladder, taking deep breaths of the cool air as they reached the surface, looking around the room. Inside, standing behind Orlov, were four men wearing camouflage, all armed with deadly-looking rifles. One of them, a bitter-faced man, had bars painted on his shoulders in black; the others seemed to be deferring to him.
"Are these the ones from the crashed shuttle?" the man asked Orlov.
"Yes. I'm certain, Captain. The shorter one is my daughter."
His eyebrow rose, "Your daughter? That seems like quite a coincidence."
"The word exists for a reason," Caine said. "I presume you are in charge."
He nodded, "Just call me by my rank for the moment. Mr. Orlov tells me that you want to use our radio. You understand that such an action would place us in considerable danger."
"I know."
"Who are you? In your own words, please."
Caine looked to Orlov, who nodded, then replied, "I am Lieutenant Caine, Tactical Officer of the Triplanetary Battlecruiser Alamo; this is Sub-Lieutenant Orlova, our Security Officer."
"The wounded one?"
"Midshipman Steele, one of our pilots."
"Mr. Orlov has in the past told us of the Triplanetary Confederation, but not that it had a fleet." The man was looking doubtfully at all three of them now.
"Ach, Lieutenant, it's a logical enough progression," Orlov said. "This is my daughter; I believe her."
"Why do you want the radio?"
"We need to contact Alamo to arrange a rescue," Caine replied. "It's also possible that we might be able to provide you with assistance. We have a full platoon of espatiers on board."
"Huh?" one of the men at the back grunted.
"Marines," Orlova offered.
Caine continued, "I take it you are the head of the local resistance."
"We call ourselves the Minutemen, actually. Let's just say I represent them, for the moment. Our goal is simply to drive the invaders from our planet."
"You must outnumber them. Why not just bring them down?" Orlova asked.
He grimaced, "It isn't as easy as that, Sub-Lieutenant. The orbital weapon platforms have been targeted on rebelling settlements before. If we get too active, we have been assured that they will crush us." He looked at Caine, "You understand I've got to be careful. There are five thousand people here I am responsible for."
Nodding, Caine replied, "I understand. But we need that radio. If you wish, we'll take it out into the jungle, transmit from there."
"It isn't portable," the grunting trooper replied.
"Damn it, Ray, this is exactly what the radio was built for in the first place," another said to the Lieutenant, who ground his teeth in frustration. "I trust them. Death from above, huh? If we can contact that ship, we get orbital bombardment as well."
Turning towards Caine, the lieutenant said, "If I find out that you are lying to me, I will end you. Guaranteed."
"You're threatening my daughter, Ray."
"Don't worry, if it comes to it, I'll end you both. Old friend."
Chapter 16
The usual starfield was missing from Alamo's conference table, replaced instead by the gloomy interior of the asteroid, illuminated only by a few searchlights. Marshall tried not to look at the two gaps at the table, but he'd let his attention wander for a moment from Quinn's report on the refueling. The engineer picked up another datapad.
"While we've been topping up, I've had the boys roaming around the station. This place is a maze, but we finally managed to get all the power systems working again," he said.
"What sort of complement would this place support, Lieutenant?" Dietz asked.
"At least a hundred with ease. The hydroponic gardens could support two or three times that. Everything's automated; I don't think it was ever intended that this station should operate with a permanent staff."
"Impressive," Cunningham replied. "We never managed to get that far."
"We could, sir," Quinn said. "It's just that we never had to."
"What about defenses?" asked Marshall, leaning forward over the table.
"I haven't found any."
Dietz nodded, "I doubt you will, Lieutenant. Evidently this facility was relying on camouflage. Most ships coming in system would head for the planet first in any event, and unless they had the right identificatio
n signal, the defense satellites would get them."
"Alamo certainly couldn't take sustained fire," Quinn said.
"Have you made any progress on the particle beams?"
"Captain, I'd need a research team of hundreds of people taking years, and millions of credits of equipment. We just aren't equipped for that sort of analysis. The best I can manage is threat potential, and it boils down to 'don't get hit'. We've also picked up some signs of what we believe are missile launching silos, targeted at the surface."
"If the particle beams don't get you, the missiles will," Cunningham said.
"I'd rate the missiles more as anti-planet than anti-ship," Mulenga said. "Which suggests interesting things about the planet's political structure."
Continuing with his briefing, the engineer tapped some buttons, bringing up an image of the planet surrounded by its satellites. "I have noticed that each satellite makes a slight course correction when it passes over the same part of the surface."
"Where?"
"Out in that big desert."
Mulenga unfolded his hands, saying, "I conducted an examination of the region. There is a small communications facility and a spaceport, but it is protected with a bank of anti-air missiles. A shuttle would have no chance of getting in."
"So even if we could get a shuttle past the defense platform, it would be destroyed on final approach."
"I'm afraid so, sir."
"Electronic warfare?"
"I've spoken with Chief Washington; she's been trying since we first got into the system, but there's a firewall she can't crack."
Dixon shook her head, "What I don't get is how our first missile got through."
"It was unpowered," Cunningham replied. "It probably didn't perceive it as a threat. That cannon will take serious energy, that's certain."
Quinn nodded, "I wouldn't be surprised if it was even smarter than that."
"A decoy, a lure to bring us in?"
"Possibly. The programming is certainly sophisticated enough."
"Getting through those platforms is a top priority. Can we get within laser range?"
"They shot the shuttle at not much less than our maximum range, sir," Cunningham said. "We might get a shot or two."
Victory or Death Page 13