Hawk Genesis: War (Flight of the Hawk)

by Robert Little

  Castidad and James looked searchingly at each other and she smiled slightly, while nodding her head. James grinned suddenly and turned his head to face her parents, “Sir, Mrs. Padilla, we wish to marry as soon as possible. With your permission, we would like a civil ceremony tomorrow morning.”

  It appeared that James’ announcement caught Castidad a little unawares, for her eyes widened, and she gasped, “Tomorrow? Are you certain?” James grinned, “Yup. My brother seems to have survived, and I feel hopeful that we would as well.” She gulped, “Yes, I accept. But James, how can I possibly get ready?” He looked directly into her eyes, “There is no possible way for us to be ready in those few, short hours; yet, if there was a way to wed right this minute, I would not hesitate. John, will you be able to stand in as my best man?” John grinned, “You said ‘yup’? I will have to consult with my wife. Can we get back to you?” Jessica laughed, “He means to say, ‘yes, absolutely’.”

  There followed a certain amount of emotional hugging and vocal expressions of love, joy and fervent assurances that the couple would have a perfectly splendid and happy life.

  Following that, Castidad closeted herself with Jessica, and the two reappeared ten minutes later. They looked happy, perhaps a little flushed, but it was clear that whatever had been discussed, it was not a matter for public consumption. John looked at his wife – his wife! – and suddenly realized the probable area of discussion, causing him to really wonder what was said.

  Over the next few minutes Castidad became quiet. Jessica whispered in John’s ear, “She’s got a few demons, and they didn’t spend a lot of time discussing exactly when they wanted to get married. She’s fine, but she’s thinking about her dress, the, um, short amount of time following the wedding, and so on.”

  John looked at his brother, and saw a roughly equal measure of deep pride and joy, but oddly, no hesitation or fear. John said, “Look at him, the bum. I was terrified, but he looks like he’s actually looking forward to a two day honeymoon.”

  Jessica giggled, “He better enjoy it, or she’ll kill him. In fact…” In alarm, John held up his hand, “No, don’t tell me. Not a word.” She giggled again and kissed him tenderly, “My hero, the man who conquers worlds, and is afraid of a little girl.” John laughed, “Afraid? In love, crazy in love, in awe, absolutely. Afraid, no.” She sighed, “If you were as crazy as you say, we wouldn’t be standing here, would we?” John blushed and she giggled, then gave him another hug.

  Early next morning, John and James found themselves once again standing in front of a familiar building. This time around, it would be James and Castidad’s turn to wed. Two for-hire conveyances trundled up to the entrance of the city hall, depositing a large assortment of young women and a few men.

  The ceremony was just as practical and unemotional as John’s had been, and thirty minutes after entering the building, everyone was boarding the same private vehicles for the trip to Castidad’s house.

  This time the reception was much nicer, and there were more actual, physical presents.

  Jessica hugged James, then while Castidad waded through her family’s congratulations, John and James stood, looking at each other. After a pause, James said, “We’re staying at a hostel. Mom offered her home, but, well, you know.” John grinned, “Yes, I think I do.”

  James stood for another moment, and then said, “We should be dead. Most of our classmates – something like sixty-five percent – have already died, and the war isn’t over. Castidad says she knows the risk, but, if she’s willing to accept it, I am too.” John sighed, “Yes.” James grinned, “Let’s not be careful – careful gets us killed.” John grimaced, “I’ll be careful not to be careful.”

  Castidad appeared with her father in tow. After a shy kiss on the cheek, she said, “Father has a request to make of you – both of you. Actually, all four of us, now that I think about it.” Mr. Padilla nodded to John and James, and carefully included both of them in his look, “I apologize in advance for what I’m about to ask of you, but I know that you only have a short time before you have to return. The first time we met, my wife invited you to Concepcion to visit our fighter factory. Since then, our company has been given the go ahead to design a new type of craft, and we’re running into problems. We badly need someone with experience, and the two of you are among the best, most experienced officers in the navy.”

  James turned to look searchingly at his brand-new bride, not noticing that John was doing the same thing with Jessica. A frown flickered past Jessica’s eyes, replaced by a tremulous smile, “How long will it take?” John glanced at James, but he already knew his brother’s answer. Mr. Padilla answered, “Most of the day, and of course the invitation is for the four of you. I’ve been married for many years, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand what I’m asking.”

  Castidad asked her father, “I don’t understand; why is this so important?” Mr. Padilla looked searchingly at his daughter before answering, “We have been asked to provide a design for an assault craft that can land a small number of heavily armed troops on a planet’s surface. The central government believes that three of the rebel worlds will not give up easily, or at all, and will require a ground assault. Right now, there is no way to get troops on the ground – we’d lose virtually all of our craft in the atmosphere. We have two months to come up with a design, but so far it’s been a monumental headache, in large part because the specifications are so vague. Your two husbands have what I consider priceless information, and if we could pick their brains it might make the difference between producing a good design, or not.”

  John said, thinking rapidly, “You would need a craft that can descend without using gravity power, so…something that has the ability to maneuver in atmosphere, maybe a lifting body. It would need to have some sort of protection against energy weapons, and be extremely stealthy. How many troops is it supposed to carry?”

  Mr. Padilla said, “We think ten is the optimum number – less than that and they would require too many craft, and a larger craft that could carry more troops would be difficult to stealth or protect. Far more difficult. Let me just say that what you took just a moment to conclude is fundamentally the only design criteria we’ve been given.”

  James turned to Castidad, but she was already looking at him. He asked her, “Honey, if sacrificing one day of our honeymoon can shorten the war, or save lives, I don’t see how we could refuse.” She smiled sadly, “Plus, he’s your father-in-law.” James’ eyes grew large, “Oh. Um, yes.” She kissed him on the cheek and said, “You two have already decided, but thank you for asking.” She turned to her father and asked, “What time, and where do you want us?”

  Mr. Padilla kissed his daughter on the cheek before answering, “I promise to make it up to you.” She smiled, “A honeymoon on Earth would be nice.” He laughed, “Yes it would. I assume you mean, after the war?” She nodded eagerly, “Deal. Two honeymoons, earth, after the war is over.” He shook his head, “I admire your bargaining ability, although your mother and I were going to do that anyway.” She gasped and leaped into her father’s arms. After she turned him loose he somberly shook John and James hands.

  An hour later James and Castidad stood together near the entrance and shook hands or hugged their guests. Finally, it was John and Jessica’s turn. John formally shook his brother’s hand, Jessica hugged both James and Castidad, and then John and his new family were walking up the street to their tiny home while James and his bride walked in the opposite direction.

  For John, being married was a huge adjustment: having two sisters-in-law was proving to be an even greater challenge. They were very good teenaged girls, but they were definitely teenaged girls, and living with the three of them was a profound shock to John, who had been a bachelor for ten years, and sisterless for his entire life.

  In addition, he was not their father – even if Jessica had allowed it, he neither could have nor would have been autocratic with them. Additionally, the girls were not terribly h
appy about exchanging their large bedroom in the very large Padilla household for their tiny bedroom in John’s small home. Very small bedroom.

  When they first moved into his apartment, he had anxiously asked them how they felt. They didn’t know him save through their older sister, so they’d been polite and non-committal. John was a newlywed, not stupid, so he persisted. Once they realized he was serious, and their sister wanted it as well, they opened up. Jennifer was the more outspoken, and she talked about the wrenching changes to their lives, of which this was a big deal but very definitely not the biggest. Jessica made a subtle point of getting Jordan to speak as well.

  As soon as he knew he was dealing with two very nice girls – well, three – he did two things: he relaxed, and he apologized for the tiny size of their new home. Much to his joy, they proved to be highly practical, and rather than focus on the single bathroom, they asked questions about the neighborhood, schools, and oddly, the military. As it turned out, their questions were not odd, they were designed to extract a significant amount of information about the male, well-educated and available portion of the military.

  Later, John realized that they had also expertly pried out of him a promise to find a larger home. Jessica laughed at his expression when he told her. She said, “You married the dimmest girl in my family. Get used to it.” He laughed, “I’ve got a doctorate, and I’m putty in their hands. Of course, it goes without saying that I’m putty in your hands.” She laughed, “You just said it, Captain Chamberlin, but I don’t mind. I suggest, however, that you don’t make a habit of it – my sisters have excellent memories, and they never forget a promise.”

  Chapter 26

  Early the next morning, John and Jessica met James and Castidad at Port Chavez, the primary terrestrial transshipment base for the city, located well away from the population center. Mr. Padilla was there ahead of them, and after giving the two women heartfelt hugs, the group boarded an aerodynamic utility shuttle. Moments later, the craft rose up into the morning sun and soared to the west, struggling to clear a towering mountain range that provided Chavez all of its water, and whose mineral wealth was the reason for the city’s location.

  In the foothills of the Sierra Altas, the mountains the shuttle was flying over, Chavez had the beginning of what was planned would be a large number of mining operations. The equipment was horribly expensive to buy and to import, but the city had already staked out locations for numerous future operations with high concentrations of vital ores, required in the production of ceramics, and of course, base metals such as steel, aluminum and titanium. The few operations already in place were producing a wide variety of core elements, especially alumina, for local needs. Because of the war, the city was now well ahead of schedule to become a net exporter. To date, the planet still required an infusion of capital and goods to sustain it, but the cutoff point for overall self-sufficiency had dropped dramatically, and was now only thirty-six years. At current rates of development, it was hoped that within less than one hundred years Maya would be free of debt.

  On the far side of the snow-covered peaks, extensive and typically dry to arid plains stretched out for more than two thousand kilometers. However, the craft’s destination was close by, located in a narrow valley on the western side of the mountains.

  Mr. Padilla’s company had deliberately located its manufacturing facility far from the city, with the mountains acting as a towering physical buffer from an attack.

  Interplanetary accords prohibited bombardment from space, as well as any and all use of nuclear, biological or chemical weapons, but that didn’t mean a desperate enemy wouldn’t use them.

  The shuttle made a steep descent and banked sharply into a one hundred eighty degree turn. It entered a narrow valley with vertical walls that had been cut by a succession of glaciers, leaving behind a stunningly beautiful setting. It landed on a pad situated on a small relatively flat extrusion of a cliff. It had been camouflaged to be invisible from space.

  The federal navy kept several shuttles on station in orbit to guard against the insertion of spy satellites, but despite this precaution, several had been found and neutralized. Unfortunately, Mr. Padilla could never be certain that there weren’t more, and of course, humint, or old-fashioned human intelligence could have revealed the presence and location of the site. As a result, it had been located in a steep-walled and very narrow canyon that would make it difficult to target, and they’d emplaced several remotely operated anti-missile batteries on the surrounding heights. It was as safe as they could make it.

  The factory landing pad was rarely utilized – the completed fighters were transported overland to Chavez. It would have been far more efficient to locate the plant in or next to Chavez, but that would have made it far easier to be destroyed by rebel sympathizers.

  They walked a few hundred meters up a fairly steep slope and entered what looked like a mountain cabin, but was actually the entrance to a fairly large structure, mostly embedded inside the mountain. James looked around and said, “This is really impressive. It’s here, and I still don’t believe it’s here.” Castidad giggled, “My love, do you feel the same way about your wife?” James grinned, “No Buttercup, in the case of my marriage, I’m quite certain I’m very married. How about you?” She giggled, “Buttercup? If you ever call me that again, you’ll be painfully aware of your marriage.” James said, trying and failing to appear solemn, “Ah, yes. No more Buttercup. In other words, I shall endeavor never to call you Buttercup, or refer to you as Buttercup, even in passing, whether to you or to anyone else. The endearment Buttercup shall henceforth be effaced from my vocabulary. Is that more or less what you were looking for?”

  Castidad burst into laughter, “It’s over one hundred kilometers to Chavez, much of it up, very steeply up, is that what you were looking for?” James nodded, “Not actually, but still, good to know.” Jessica smiled and said, “You could have saved a lot of time if you’d just kissed the man.” Castidad asked, “How would that have saved any time?” Jessica smiled angelically, “It would have short-circuited his higher mental faculties, such as they are, and he would have promptly forgotten what he was saying.” Castidad said, “Oh Jessica, you poor woman; is that what happens with your husband?” Jessica slowly nodded, “Yes, I’m afraid so.” Castidad grinned, “Mine too.”

  They were standing in a tiny, soundproofed room with a small viewscreen on one wall. Mr. Padilla stood motionless for a moment while he was scanned. He said, speaking generally at the blank wall, “I require two one-day visitors passes for the following: Lieutenant Commander James Chamberlin, and Captain John Chamberlin.”

  A moment later two nearly transparent tags slid out of a slot. Mr. Padilla handed them to his visitors and showed them how to affix it to their left chest, over the heart. He said, “As long as you’re in the facility, this will track your movements. Don’t take it off or exchange it – it’s tied into your heartbeat.” Both James and John were familiar with military security procedures, and this was more of the same.

  A personnel hatch slid open, reminding John of a spacecraft, and Mr. Padilla led the small group into a long passageway that took them deeper into the mountain. Roughly one hundred meters back he led them through yet another security hatch and into a surprisingly large, open assembly room. John counted ten heavy fighters in various stages of assembly. He looked around with intense curiosity. There were very few human beings in the room. Each craft rested on a movable conveyer and was surrounded by numerous robotic fabricators. While he watched, one craft rose up and a large tray was inserted up into the craft from underneath. It was quickly attached and a moment later the skeleton of what would soon be a fighter lowered back down.

  John walked to the far end of the room, which seemed to be the terminus of this portion of the assembly room. One fighter seemed to be basically complete, save for its skin, which was being attached.

  Mr. Padilla came up to him and said, “This will be physically completed within approximately ano
ther nine hours, systems testing will require another four to five hours, and after it’s certified it is transported through a two kilometer tunnel that cuts through the canyon wall and terminates in a small building on the surface, right next to a maglev terminal. There, it gets loaded into what appears to be a standard container and is transported on the surface to Chavez. The container is usually one of many, making it difficult to track.” John asked, “This facility is how old?” Mr. Padilla said, “Four years and change. Almost five now. To answer your next question; yes, we began construction before the outbreak of hostilities. Not everyone was looking the other way.”

  John said, “This is incredible. How do you get the fighters from Chaves to orbit?” Mr. Padilla nodded, “Good question – we don’t fly them up. Instead, they’re loaded inside shuttles and transshipped to what looks like a bulk carrier. As far as we know, the rebels have never figured out that we’re manufacturing combat craft here.” John grinned, “You know that because…?” Mr. Padilla said, “Because this location isn’t a smoking crater.”

  John looked thoughtfully at his host and asked, “I’ve often thought that it would be relatively easy to sneak one or two small craft into a system, and it wouldn’t take much to at least halt production here. How do you get the raw products and sub-assemblies in?’ Mr. Padilla answered, “Reverse process. The containers that offload parts pick up assembled fighters. It’s an elegant solution. However, we have another, brand-new assembly area, deeper in the mountain, and that is where I want to take you two. Unfortunately, I can’t show Castidad or Jessica what we’re doing there. If you have no more questions about this facility, would you please accompany me to what has proven to be an incredible headache?”