by M. Alan Marr
“I trust, Commander Dev, this is important,” the Admiral says plainly as he walks to the table. The Field Marshal says nothing, but eyes Chaz carefully as she passes. The staff quietly take their seats, while the Admiral and Field Marshal make their way to their seats at the head of the table.
“I believe so, Admiral.”
The Admiral tucks in. “Very well, then, let’s have it.”
Dev nods and takes a couple of steps toward the table. “Admiral, Field Marshal, as you are aware, the loss of our base on Beta-Trianguli has left the Oasis approach corridor vulnerable.”
Bross programs the screen to show Triangulum and the approach vector to Earth.
Dev continues. “Our losses in Lyra, Hercules, Eridanus, and the breach in Cygnus are going stretch the capabilities of our remaining fleet, compounded further by the damage inflicted on warships Adonis and Calibos.”
“Calibos is a total loss,” the Flight Admiral informs the group. “We’re going to salvage her for parts.” The Admiral looks at Dev. “You were saying, sir?”
Dev didn’t know about the loss of Calibos. “Admiral, we are presented with a strategic deficiency regarding our long-term ability to adequately protect Earth from Yeti attack.”
“We’ve drawn up new patrol routes to cover Earth,” the Admiral says. Various members of the Admiral’s staff take notes on the presentation.
“Yes, sir,” Dev says. “Those patrols will doubtless put a serious strain on manpower and assets.”
“I take it you have an alternative?”
“Actually, Admiral, it is Lieutenant Commander Ronaldi’s idea I wish to present today, sir.”
There is the slightest muttering within the Admiral’s staff, who are all aware of Chaz’s unique origins. Dev walks to the large wall display and nods to Bross. A close-up shot of Triangulum is displayed.
“Admiral, Field Marshal, the loss of our garrison in Triangulum is a disaster.” He points to the center of the constellation. “And the Yeti have little choice but to transit the Deltodon if they intend to reach Earth.” Dev looks around the table. “As part of our overall plan, I suggest detonating a series of high-yield graviton bombs within the Deltodon. Doing so, I believe, may give us early warning of enemy ships transiting the region.”
The Field Marshal speaks on this point. “Graviton explosives are extremely hazardous, Commander, affecting our own ability to safely navigate the region.”
“It’s a tradeoff, Field Marshal,” Dev says. “But given the relatively short distance between Triangulum and Oasis, any early warning could give us additional time for interdiction.”
“True,” the Field Marshal says slowly, “and we have no other assets within the Deltodon.”
Dev continues, “Even if the operation forces the Yeti to avoid the Deltodon altogether, they would only be adding transit time to Oasis.”
“Also true,” the Field Marshal says. “Their ships are fast, but all evidence to date suggests they can’t maintain compression speeds as long as we can. Even their savage bodies can’t withstand those forces for very long. Gravitational fallout could further impact their navigational performance through the Deltodon.”
Dev can see Chaz isn’t following her logic. “Yeti ships utilize an electric gravity drive. Crude, but very effective. Their drive systems create extreme gravitational forces inside their ships, even in normal flight regime. Yeti Brigands are excellent combat vehicles because they can shift their gravity field almost instantly, allowing them to make near right-angle turns, as you have seen firsthand. But their shortcoming is long-range operations. As the Field Marshal pointed out, the Yeti can only withstand short duration compression flights. The explosives we’re discussing can, in theory, further impact their high-speed endurance, possibly even creating a gravitational lethality if they hit the fallout under too great a strain.” Dev adds, “And the Yeti fall prey to Compression Fatigue, same as we do. It is not at all uncommon to stumble upon a ship full of dormant Yeti.”
“Then that could be an additional advantage,” Chaz says. “If we know when they are transiting, we can also look for them while they’re at rest.”
The Field Marshal scoffs and replies, “Hoping to catch the Yeti napping is hardly what I would call sound tactical planning, sir.”
Chaz doesn’t know how to respond to that. Dev tries to run interference. “Field Marshal, I’m certain Commander Chaz meant that—”
“And I’m certain I understood what Commander Chaz just said, sir.”
Dev is contrite. “Yes, Field Marshal.”
The Field Marshal looks at the screen. “The explosives you’re suggesting will render a huge region of space contaminated, there can be no doubt about that,” she says. “So much so, it could be generations before we could safely reestablish a base there.”
The Admiral nods. “That bears consideration.”
The Field Marshal continues, “I should also mention detonations of that magnitude would not go unnoticed. By the Yeti, and perhaps even scientists on Earth.”
“Earth will assume it is a natural phenomenon, Field Marshal,” Chaz says. “If you can detonate the explosives simultaneously, they’ll think they’re picking up some sort of nova or something.”
“You sound very convinced of that, Commander,” the Field Marshal counters.
“All due respect, Field Marshal, on Earth, there can be no other explanation besides natural causes,” Chaz says, feeling somewhat vindicated.
“True, I suppose.”
“In any case,” Dev adds, “enemy ships transiting the Deltodon would cause variations in the magnetic, radiometric, and gravimetric spectrum, which should give us forewarning of an incoming attack.”
“Early detection?” says the Admiral. “Is that your plan, sir?”
“No, Admiral,” Dev replies as he approaches the table. “Up to now, our assumption has always been that Earth could not defend itself against direct Yeti attack.”
“Has that assumption changed?” the Admiral says, knowing Dev just returned from his observation mission.
“I believe it has, Admiral,” Dev replies and then adds, “Provisionally.”
“Provisionally?”
“Yes, sir,” Dev replies, and then explains, “Earth has no real capacity to repel orbital attack. And I would rate the efficacy of their atmospheric fighters as limited-at-best engaging Yeti Brigands in air-to-air combat.”
“That hardly sounds provisionally capable, sir,” the Admiral says plainly.
“Yes, Admiral. But we have a larger problem when it comes to Earth.”
“Explain.”
“The appearance of the Yeti on Earth will unravel thousands of years of fundamental religious dogma. The resulting unrest could create a societal breakdown from which they may never recover, to say nothing of the collateral damage the Yeti would inflict.”
“The Yeti could force our hand,” the Admiral says contemplatively to the group. “Force us into diverting even more assets for rescue operations. Assets that would leave other worlds open to further attack.”
“Your Command Evaluation made some sobering conclusions,” the Field Marshal says.
“Yes, Field Marshal.”
Chaz wonders what exactly was in this evaluation.
The Field Marshal notices Chaz’s facial expression and elaborates. “For those of you who have yet to read the Commander’s report, the general rescue scenario is no longer a viable option. The percentage of acceptable Human refugees to the Crown is extraordinarily low.”
The Admiral looks at Dev. “Commander?”
Dev takes a deep breath. He is going to disclose information he knows Chaz will find difficult to hear. “Earth has far more social strata than we have in the Crown. Negative strata that would be damaging to our own society at large. Earth has entire segments driven by criminality, extreme substance abuse, homicide, even civil war and genocidal tendencies. Mental instability brought on by pharmacological dependence; a genetically modified food chain t
hat has caused biochemical changes in the Human genome; racial bias, lack of education, and willful ignorance in the face of undeniable scientific fact. In short, despite recent technological advances, Earth residents are in retrograde. We would be condemning ninety-five percent of Earth’s seven billion residents were we to initiate a qualified rescue.”
The Admiral leans on the armrest on his seat and rubs his temple. “That is untenable.”
A poignant silence falls over everyone as the harsh reality of the situation sinks in. The worst-case scenario has always been a direct rescue of Earth’s population. Dev’s report makes it clear that doing so would be catastrophic for Earth, for Trieste, and for the Crown as a whole, sending Humanity in a giant, potentially irrevocable, step backwards.
Dev surveys the sullen expressions, then breaks the silence. “There is a way we can save them all.”
All eyes at the table work their way to Dev. He exchanges a quick glance with Chaz and continues. “Admiral, Field Marshal, Commander Chaz and I propose basing a squadron of Class I TransAt fighters on Earth.”
The Admiral pauses for a very quick moment. “On the surface of Earth?”
“Yes, sir,” Dev replies with confidence. “Furthermore, I propose we recruit, train, and make operational, an Oasis squadron.”
The Field Marshal nearly gasps. “You mean, train Earth residents to fly our TransAtmospheric fighters?”
“Exactly that, Field Marshal.”
The Field Marshal stares at Dev, then fixes her eyes on Chaz and contemplates him for several seconds before asking him the question, “Do you think that is possible, sir?”
Chaz stands a bit taller. “Field Marshal, yes, ma’am, I do.”
“Field Marshal,” Dev interjects, “Commander Chaz is an accomplished aviator. He previously served in Earth’s Naval forces and is a graduate of Earth’s premier military academy. He currently serves as pilot of a large atmospheric passenger transport.”
“How many passengers?” she says squarely to Chaz.
“Two hundred sixty-one, Field Marshal,” Chaz replies quickly, knowing full well she is testing him.
“That is a large responsibility,” the Field Marshal concedes.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The Field Marshal turns to Dev. “Commander Dev, you previously served as instructor on our TransAt fighter craft. Do you believe Earth pilots are prepared for our advanced tactical fighter technology?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dev replies. “Our last mission to Earth was thirty years ago. Their level of technical advance has grown significantly, particularly in the fields of aviation and computational science.”
“You’re not proposing we make ourselves known to the people of Earth.”
“No, Field Marshal,” Dev says definitively. “Earth’s technological level has increased, but as my report indicates, Earth’s population is in the throes of political and social turmoil.”
“Stemming from what, Commander?” an officer on the Admiral’s staff says.
Dev elaborates, “A fractious political system; changing social mores; and the sudden rise of militant religious groups, many of which decry science and even physics. Some are even willing to self-detonate, all in the name of religious fundamentalism.”
The Field Marshal looks at the Admiral. “I will never understand why anyone believes murdering others is the pathway to salvation.”
The Admiral nods but doesn’t immediately respond while he considers the merits of this most unconventional idea. He looks at both Dev and Chaz for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Lieutenant Commander Chaz.”
“Admiral?”
“You seem unusually well-adjusted to your situation here. I’ve read Commander Dev’s reports. I would like to hear your opinion concerning how others on your world would react to the knowledge they are part of a larger universe.”
Chaz does not hesitate to reply. “If we chose the right people, Admiral, this will work. But I also believe your technology needs to be very closely guarded.”
“Elaborate please, sir.”
“Admiral, on my world, my country is what is considered a superpower. We have thermonuclear weapons and a large military with global capacity. Our military is honorable. Our politicians, with few exceptions, are ridiculous. As Dev—Commander Dev—mentioned, there is a fundamentalist movement afoot that has used their numbers to elect unqualified leaders to high positions in our government. Similar movements abroad are recruiting like-minded people into terrorist organizations. These groups have no idea how closely aligned their ideologies are.” Chaz continues, “My country has a two-party system of checks and balances to govern. But we have political fringe groups doing everything in their power to see that the two sides never agree. Consequently, almost nothing gets done. Virtually every issue is spun in one direction or the other to create partisan gridlock. My country also has a severe problem with violence. Specifically, gun-related violence.”
The Field Marshal interjects, “And your government does nothing to stop this violence?”
“The framers of our government made it a constitutional right to bear arms, Field Marshal. There are captains of industry and lobbying groups, whose sole mission in life is to keep the profitable supply of weapons flowing to a frightened and paranoid consumer.”
Dev interjects, “Their mantra essentially is, weapons don’t kill people—what’s the rest?”
“People kill people,” Chaz says, almost embarrassed.
“That is counterintuitive,” the Field Marshal says.
“It’s blatantly stupid is what it is, Field Marshal,” Chaz says, a little too forcefully, judging by the Field Marshal’s body language. He then looks at her with a softer expression. “My apologies, ma’am, but every day at home I see news that gun violence has struck at a children’s school, public venue, or place of business. People with mental illness go berserk and go on senseless shooting rampages, killing innocent bystanders before ultimately turning their weapons on themselves. It is . . . maddening.”
“Yet if a Yeti lands, your people might actually be able to fend them off,” the Admiral says evenly.
“Admiral, if my people would limit themselves to shooting Yeti, I would happily pay for their bullets.”
The Admiral continues, “What else about your people causes you concern, Commander?”
“Hysteria,” Chaz replies. “The appearance of spacecraft from another world would cause panic. And panic is contagious. My people, even the good ones, have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. Your rescue ships might be greeted with a barrage of nuclear missiles. Our entertainment media has used the idea of extraterrestrials as a source of horror; aliens that come either en masse or in secret, wanting to destroy Humanity or take our resources. Even in the old days of radio broadcasting, a fictional story of alien invasion had everyone terrified and convinced it was actually happening. If the reality of the situation comes to pass, I worry they will default to what they’ve seen in the movies. And, with respect, sir, they would be partially correct. That said, we would have to keep this entire operation secret or risk you technology falling into the wrong hands.”
No one in the room needed to clue in on the fact that Tertian society has numerous worlds they use for natural resources, and that they have been visiting Earth in secret.
Logistics Commander Joss Gartha speaks for the first time. “Commander Dev, the resources you would need to establish a base on Earth are not a simple matter, particularly now. To say nothing about the resupply and defense of the installation itself. How do you propose to operate in secret from the general population of Earth residents?”
“Actually, sir, we have a plan for that.” Dev motions to Bross, who punches up an image on the screen. All look up to see an underground facility and Earth-type structure above. “I propose setting the entire base underground. Access would be tightly controlled. Earth-based sensors would not detect anything. Outwardly, the upper structure would appear nothing out of the ordin
ary, diverting attention from what lies below.”
“That appears to be a modular design,” Fleet Constructs Commander Tan Gartha offers.
Dev smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Commander Dev,” Tan adds, “under ordinary circumstances this could be possible. But the Constructs Yard was all but destroyed in the attack.”
“I’m aware of that, Commander. However, the base I’m proposing is derived from remnants of the Yard.”
Commander Tan gets up from the table and approaches the display for a closer look. Bross keys the computer, and it zeros in on the base and highlights several parts in question.
“Those are . . . sections of an orbital station we were working on,” she comments.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That station was severely damaged,” Tan says. “It will never be space-worthy.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Dev counters. “We can modify the components for our use, transport the unit to Earth in a Cargo Lifter, and lower it into the ground. Its reinforced materials should be more than adequate for subterranean service inside a stable atmosphere.”
The Admiral looks to Commander Tan. “Constructs Commander?”
Tan turns to answer, “Admiral, sir, the damage to the structure is irreparable as far as space operations, but if it’s not operating in space . . . Sir, I need to study the components in more detail, but I believe they could be fitted for subterranean duty.”
Another officer at the table speaks up. “Does that structure have adequate energy production capability?”
Tan nods, “Yes, ma’am. It was designed with a sustainable reactor.”
Dev answers the next question before it’s asked. “The reactor is intact.”
The Logistics Commander looks at the image again. “We could reconfigure the reactor for flight support.”
The Field Marshal shakes her head. “Logistics aside, let us revisit this notion of training Earth residents. A notion I am not at all convinced is viable.”
“Field Marshal,” Dev says, “there is no doubt in my mind that Commander Chaz and those whom we select will be able to train and adapt to our technology.”