by Ryk Brown
Reto continued down the street, focusing the scanner head hidden in his hat on each passing home, lingering on the larger dwellings. The ones owned by higher-level command officers always appeared more like compounds than typical Jung homes. Nor-Patri was a world covered with urban sprawl, so much so that the majority of its local agricultural industry took place in underground farming complexes. And those only produced one quarter of what was needed to feed the Jung homeworld. The rest was imported from nearby systems, usually spending months, if not years, in transit. It was a delicate supply chain that the Jung had once kept carefully guarded.
As the years had passed, and the empire grew unrivaled in their military might, those supply conduits had become more vulnerable. Reto had often wondered why the Alliance didn’t simply cut those supply lines and starve Nor-Patri into submission, rather than destroying Zhu-Anok, an act that had inadvertently cost millions of lives, both military and civilian.
Lieutenant Commander Bowden had explained to Reto that starving the civilian population would have been interpreted the same as a direct military assault against the people of Nor-Patri. At least the collateral damage due to the attack on the Patrian moon had been accidental.
That fact was only in the minds of Alliance leaders, and not in the minds of the residents of the Jung homeworld. The Jung propaganda machine had masterfully spun that collateral damage into a planned result disguised as an accident. As usual, the masses believed every word.
Yet Reto still overheard the voices of dissent from time to time. In the back rooms of bars where men gathered to play illegal games of chance. In danja circles, where the young sought to escape the ills of life through the inhalation of mind-altering smoke from the burning of various dried, Patrian plants. And in the never-ending lines where those who had lost everything waited for their daily sustenance distributions from various relief agencies. A small minority had seen it coming, and had opposed, and still opposed, the dreams of the expansionist castes.
It was unfortunate that such minorities would never be allowed to grow to effectual size. Every citizen of Nor-Patri knew that the isolationist castes opposed expansion. But the isolationists had not half the power of the warrior castes. And the leadership castes were only interested in maintaining their legal control over both the masses and the warrior castes, themselves. Therefore, the leadership caste had to yield to the desires of the expansionists and their supporting warrior castes.
A nearly inaudible beep sounded from Reto’s pocket. He pulled out his personal data-comm unit and checked its display. The scanner head hidden in his hat had detected something unusual. A host containing Corinairan nanites.
Reto put his PDU to his ear, pretending to be taking a call. Although most of the street-level security cameras were still offline in this part of the city, those in the larger residential compounds were most likely monitored by full time security staff.
He continued walking, taking care not to change his stride or body language, continuing to speak into the receiver. He wanted to run back to his tiny, one-room apartment and send this finding into space as soon as possible, but the next transmission time was yet hours away.
He would have to wait.
CHAPTER FIVE
The four of them watched as the Mirai’s crew walked down the ship’s aft cargo ramp for the last time.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Lieutenant Chandler asked, turning back halfway down the ramp.
“We’re good,” Josh replied.
“Maybe I should go over the external docking procedures again,” the lieutenant said nervously, looking as if he were about to head back up.
“I have studied the procedures thoroughly,” Loki assured him. “We can handle it.”
“It is not you that I am worried about, Ensign.”
Josh said nothing, just rolled his eyes.
“Lieutenant,” Jessica said, calmly intervening. “I’m sure Ensign Hayes and Ensign Sheehan appreciate all you have done for them over the past few days, as do I. But I assure you, the Mirai is in good hands.” She glanced at Josh and Loki. “Besides, I’ll keep them in line, I promise.”
The lieutenant nodded his begrudging agreement. He looked around the interior of the Mirai’s cargo hold one last time. “She is a good ship. Underutilized, to be sure, but still a good ship.” He looked at Josh and Loki again. “See to it that you take good care of her, or you will have myself, and likely Captain Navarro, to answer to.”
“Understood,” Loki replied.
Lieutenant Chandler turned and continued down the ramp, stepping onto the Avendahl’s deck and disappearing into its hangar bay.
“Jesus!” Josh exclaimed when they were finally out of view. “I didn’t think they were ever going to leave.”
Loki cast a disapproving look at Josh, worried that the Mirai’s departing crew might still be within earshot.
“That was the longest two days of my life!” Josh continued.
“Josh!” Loki scolded.
“Quick, Marcus, raise the ramp, before Chandler remembers something he forgot to go over with us…a few dozen times.”
Jessica nodded her approval. “Close her up, and let’s get out of here.”
“Yes, sir,” Marcus replied, moving toward the ramp controls.
“You in a hurry to go home hunting?” Josh asked, surprised that she was so eager to depart.
“Yeah, Captain Navarro invited us all to dinner, remember?” Loki added.
“Which I declined,” Jessica said, as the cargo ramp began to rise. “We need to get back to the Sol sector as soon as possible.”
Josh looked confused, as did Loki. “So now you don’t want to go look for a new planet for the Ghatazhak?”
“Nope, that was just a ruse,” Jessica explained as the ramp sealed shut, and the inner doors closed over it. “A reason for me to come along.”
“I don’t follow,” Josh said.
Jessica turned and headed up the forward gangway leading to the main salon. “Jump us out the opposite direction of Sol, someplace out of the Pentaurus sector, then we’ll turn and head back toward Sol.”
“We’re going back to Earth, then?” Josh asked, as they followed Jessica up the gangway and forward into the main salon.
“Sol sector,” Jessica corrected. “But not the Sol system.”
“Then where?” Josh asked.
“Need to know, Josh.”
“Uh, we’re going to need to know sooner or later,” Loki reminded her. “We are the pilots, you know.”
“I’ll give you our final destination a hundred light years outside of the Sol sector, so you can plot a stealth-entry into our destination system.”
“I thought we were all working together on this,” Josh complained.
“You thought wrong,” Jessica replied sternly. She turned to look at him. “You take orders from Telles, or myself in his absence…no one else. Is that understood?”
“It would be a lot easier if we just knew where…”
“Not an option,” Jessica insisted, cutting Loki off. “Get your asses up to the cockpit and get us out of here. Marcus, as soon as we’re off, I’m gonna need your help.”
“With what?” Marcus asked.
“We have to sweep this ship for monitoring devices.”
“Bugs?” Marcus asked, surprised.
“It’s an interstellar jump ship, Jess,” Josh argued. “How the hell…”
“Go!” Jessica ordered, pointing forward.
“Yes, sir,” Josh replied, noticing the threatening look in her eyes.
* * *
Admiral Galiardi entered the conference room at the North American Union’s capital complex in Winnipeg, dressed in an Earth Defense Force uniform. It took considerable effort for President Scott not to sho
w his contempt for the admiral, since sheer political pressure had forced him to reinstate the man to his former position.
President Scott glanced over at Admiral Dumar who sat to his left, dressed in his own, more subdued version of the EDF uniform, which had been modified to serve as the uniform of the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance. If Dumar was also affected by the sight of Admiral Galiardi sporting the full EDF uniform, he did not show it. For that, President Scott envied him.
“Admiral,” the president greeted him stiffly.
“Mister President,” Admiral Galiardi responded. “Admiral,” he added, acknowledging Admiral Dumar’s presence as well. “I trust you have both had a chance to review my proposals.”
“Indeed we have,” President Scott assured him. He turned to Admiral Dumar. “Admiral?”
“Yes, I have reviewed them in great detail,” Admiral Dumar replied. “They are…ambitious.”
“The new Protector-class was on the drawing board long before the Aurora and the Celestia had even been conceived,” Admiral Galiardi explained. “They were to be given faster-than-light capabilities but, at the time, the powers that be feared such ships would send the wrong message to the Jung. I believe that such ships will now send exactly the right message to the Jung.”
“And what would that message be?” President Scott wondered, already knowing the answer.
“That the Earth is not to be taken lightly,” Admiral Galiardi responded.
“I believe that message has already been delivered,” Admiral Dumar reminded Admiral Galiardi politely.
“To some extent, yes. However, with the loss of the Celestia and the Kent, we appear considerably weaker in the eyes of the Jung.”
“We still have the Aurora, as well as the Jar-Benakh, and the Tanna,” President Scott pointed out.
“Not to mention six jump-capable KKVs roaming about at random,” Admiral Dumar added. “Considering the amount of damage we have already inflicted upon the Jung, it is highly unlikely that their commanders are ‘taking the Earth lightly.’”
“Three ships and a handful of jump KKVs.” Admiral Galiardi scoffed, appearing to be holding back his laughter. “No Jung admiral would consider that a significant threat, regardless of what damages we have already inflicted. I promise you both that, even now, the Jung are preparing to maneuver their ships into battle groups, and positioning them to strike…before we can create more ships.”
“Then why bother building such massive ships?” President Scott wondered. “Such ships will undoubtedly take many years to build.”
“The first ship should take approximately five years to build. Subsequent ships should only take three years each. However, we have to create the facilities to fabricate and assemble these ships. That alone will take up to two years. That is why I asked to meet with you both today. I would like to get started on the conversion of the Karuzara asteroid into Port Terra as soon possible.”
“What about the destroyer proposal?” Admiral Dumar asked.
“Let the Cetians build them,” Admiral Galiardi insisted. “Since the destroyer concept is based on the Jung frigate design, it will require little retooling. In addition, our fabricators will speed up the production process. Once production gets underway, the Cetians should be able to produce a dozen destroyers by the time the first Protector-class ship is launched.”
President Scott sighed. “Such rapid military buildup is exactly what the Jung fear most. We will be pushing them toward renewed conflict.”
“Or make them realize that renewing the conflict is a losing proposition,” Admiral Galiardi argued. “Mister President, by our estimates, the soonest the Jung could muster enough ships to guarantee victory and move them into position to attack, is six to eight years.”
“But our KKVs…” the president began to protest.
“Are not enough,” Admiral Galiardi interrupted. “The Jung Empire is vast, perhaps as many as twenty fully industrialized worlds. Even if we could take them all out at once, there would still be the battle platforms, the battleships, and countless cruisers and frigates left to deal with. It’s a matter of numbers, gentlemen, and the Jung have them.”
“Surely, losing a half dozen heavily populated and industrialized worlds would put a damper on their urge to fight,” the president surmised.
“To the Jung, those would be acceptable losses,” Admiral Galiardi argued.
President Scott sighed, looking at Admiral Dumar. “Admiral?”
“Admiral Galiardi’s logic is reasonable,” he admitted. “Although, much of it is based on assumptions, and those assumptions are in line with the behavior we have seen thus far. However, meeting the admiral’s production timelines will require considerable effort, not only from the people of Earth, but the people from all the Alliance worlds. And many of those worlds, including Earth, are still in the early stages of recovery.”
“In a few years, we will reach a tipping point with our fabricator production. When we do, the problem will be in providing our army of fabricators with the raw materials they require. If we can ramp up our mining of the asteroid belt, we can meet those needs. Add in the technologies contained within the Data Ark that we have yet to explore… Well, let’s just say the Jung won’t know what hit them, should they decide to challenge us once again.”
“Bold words,” Admiral Dumar cautioned.
Admiral Galiardi looked reproachfully at Admiral Dumar. “Perhaps, but they are the same words I spoke to then-Senator Scott, more than a decade ago. Had those words been heeded, our situation would likely be quite different.”
President Scott looked long and hard at Admiral Galiardi, remembering full well the admiral’s emotionally spirited warnings so many years ago. “Thank you, Admiral Galiardi. I will present your proposals to the Alliance Council at tomorrow’s meeting, and I will notify you of their decision as soon as it is made.”
“Thank you, Mister President,” Admiral Galiardi replied, rising from his seat. “Admiral,” he added with a respectful nod toward Admiral Dumar, before turning and leaving the conference room.
President Scott waited for the door to close behind Admiral Galiardi before speaking. “You’re not opposed to him gutting your asteroid?”
“It is not my asteroid,” Admiral Dumar corrected. “It was given to the people of Earth by Casimir Ta’Akar. It is yours to do with as you please.”
“How do you feel about Galiardi’s plan?” the president wondered.
“As I said, it is ambitious,” Admiral Dumar replied. “However, it is well considered, and it includes not only the construction of the Protector-class ships, but also the destroyers, more Cobra gunships, and more Super Eagles. The only thing I might suggest is that you include the production of jump-capable KKVs, perhaps ones with even more destructive potential. After all, the Jung will discover that we do not have as many KKVs as Captain Scott originally claimed. And if so, the Jung will indeed consider six worlds a small price to pay for the destruction of the only entity standing in their way.”
* * *
After waiting more than an hour, Jessica was finally led into Doctor Donly’s office. Like most of Nifelm, it was sparsely decorated, choosing function over design. There was, however, the slightest hint of the doctor’s position as chief administrator of the Nifelmian cloning facility.
“Miss Nash,” the doctor greeted her, rising from her seat, then stepping out from behind her desk to offer proper greetings. She reached out with both hands, crossing them as she presented her open palms to her guest.
Jessica looked puzzled for a moment, but emulated the chief administrator’s unusual handshake, crossing her own hands as she took Doctor Donly’s. “Doctor Donly,” Jessica greeted her respectfully. The elder woman bowed her head slightly in respect, and Jessica did the same.
“Please, call me Sora,” the doctor said as she ge
stured for Jessica to sit.
“I apologize for the unannounced visit,” Jessica said as she took her seat.
“On the contrary, I am honored to have you,” the doctor said. “You are the first Terran that I have ever met. Are they all as attractive as you?”
“Uh…” Jessica stumbled, caught off guard. “No? I mean, some are more so, some are less…I guess.”
“I am sorry,” the doctor said, noting Jessica’s discomfort. “I did not mean to make you ill at ease. It’s just that I am fascinated by the diversity of your population. There are only two hundred fifty-six different human forms on Nifelm.”
“Really?” Jessica was shocked. “Is that by design?”
“Not at all,” the doctor explained. “Nifelm was founded by twenty-seven thousand colonists almost twelve hundred years ago, but the bio-digital plague greatly reduced our numbers.”
“I thought Nifelm was a quarantined world back then?” Jessica wondered.
“In a sense, yes. But the quarantine was more political than physical. The cloning of humans was still frowned upon by the joint nations of Earth back then.”
“Probably still isn’t widely accepted now, either,” Jessica commented.
“This is true, and it likely never will be. We accepted that fact long ago.”
“Then why did your ancestors choose to clone themselves?”
“Their intent was never to conduct large-scale cloning of human beings,” Sora explained. “It was to develop the ability to transfer the human consciousness from one host body to the next.”