The Fall: Crimson Worlds IX

by Jay Allan

  Even Vance’s legendary self-control was being put to the test now, as he looked out on the gray, broken remains of his city. He was silent now, grateful to be locked up in armor, his reactions hidden from everyone else. A century of work, over a hundred years of constant effort and toil, and it lay before him in ruins. The city was salvageable…possibly. But the dome was a total loss. The remnants still standing defiantly were a hindrance, not an aid. They would have to be taken down, slowly and carefully, and replaced. But replaced with what? Mars was prostrate now. Her industry was half destroyed and the rest lay abandoned under the shattered domes. He had no idea how they would manage the rebuilding. It would be many years before Martians returned to live on the surface and looked up to see the sun and the stars above them once again.

  Gavin Stark had his revenge. Vance had destroyed Stark’s Dakota base, and now Mars had paid the price. No, he thought to himself, that wasn’t completely true. Part of Vance wanted to blame himself for provoking the attack by moving against the Shadow Legions facility on Earth, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Stark would have attacked Mars no matter what.

  His Shadow Legions would eventually win their war against the Marines, if only by overwhelming them with sheer numbers. But there was no way Stark could defeat Augustus Garret, not if the great admiral could supply and maintain his fleet. Sooner or later he would hunt Stark down, destroy the rest of his ships and strand all his people wherever they were. Stark couldn’t win his war and establish his dominion across human space, not while Augustus Garret was still out there with his fleet.

  No, he thought, cursing his own foolishness, Stark had to destroy any industry that could support Garret’s ships. He realized now that Mars had always been part of Stark’s agenda, and he cursed himself for his stupidity in not seeing it sooner. He had fallen for Stark’s trap, sending his ships out to Saturn to intercept the enemy fleet and opening the approach to Mars for Stark’s stealth vessels. It had been one big deception, and Stark had gotten the better of him. And his people had paid.

  At least most of them were still alive. Looking at the wreckage around him, he knew that was more than he could have hoped for, though he didn’t know how he and the rest of the council were going to keep them all alive. The covered farms still stood, and they would continue to produce food, but they had never provided more than half the planet’s needs, even when the supporting services were functioning 100%. He knew they’d produce less now, possibly not even a third of what it would take to feed the masses of refuges jammed into the overcrowded underground cities.

  If Earth slipped into the abyss and the Superpowers finally destroyed each other, he didn’t know how the Martian government was going to feed everyone. Brief images of food riots and lotteries to determine who would live flashed through his mind, but he quickly pushed them back. He knew it was a likely future, but it wasn’t one he was ready to face now.

  At least the orbital fortresses were still manned and operational. Stark’s ships had approached through stealth, and Mars’ defenses were still strong, even without the fleet. If an enemy tried to launch an attack, they’d have a hell of a fight on their hands.

  “Mr. Vance, we have received two high priority communiques addressed to you.” The com unit in the armor was loud, reverberating in his helmet, and he recoiled at first.

  “From whom?”

  “One is from Admiral Campbell, sir.”

  Vance let out a long sigh. Campbell was alive. That meant some of the fleet, at least, had survived. “What does he report?”

  “Admiral Campbell advises that the fleet has suffered crippling losses, with half his vessels destroyed and most of the rest seriously damaged.” The communications officer paused. “He reports the enemy fleet suffered catastrophic damage as well, including the destruction of its flagship and the presumed death of Admiral Liang. The surviving ships fled from the battle area, bound for the Centauri warp gate. Admiral Campbell is on his way back to Mars with all his ships capable of making the trip. The most heavily damaged fleet units remained behind and are continuing damage control efforts.”

  Vance took a deep breath. A victory, although a Pyrrhic one. Still, it was good news. Campbell had done a fine job, though he’d been facing a diversionary force and not the real threat. But that had been Vance’s mistake, an intel error, and it took nothing away from the honor due to Campbell and his crews.

  At least some portion of the fleet survived, Vance thought. As badly damaged as he suspected most of the fleet units were, he was grateful now for any resources that remained available.

  “Who sent the second communique?” Vance looked up to the sky as he spoke, still trying to imagine the shattered wreckage of the Confederation’s once powerful navy.

  “Captain Jennings, sir. He reports his ship was able to track an enemy contact to a base in the asteroid belt. He believes Gavin Stark is on that base.”

  Vance felt the adrenalin flow through his body like a wave. If Jennings had managed to find Stark…

  “He engaged an enemy vessel and destroyed it, though his ship was badly damaged in the fight. He landed General Cain and his Marines on the asteroid, but he reports they are heavily outnumbered, and he fears they will be overwhelmed and destroyed.”

  “Did he provide coordinates for this base?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Vance turned abruptly and waved to his Marine escort, switching the com to the Marine channel. “Let’s move, Sergeant, we’re going back down to HQ.” He started walking toward the bank of lifts. He had to get back to his office. He had to reach Admiral Campbell. Immediately.

  “I think we’ve got the reactor stabilized, sir.” Joseph Vandebaran was John Carter’s chief engineer. Campbell could hear the exhaustion in his raw voice. They’d had to cut their thrust twice on the trip back to Mars, so Vandebaran could take the reactor offline and repair cracks in the containment system.

  Campbell was impressed with the lieutenant commander’s skill and tenacity. By all rights, John Carter should be in a scrap heap, or more likely blown to its component atoms. Vandebaran’s efforts had kept the battered Martian flagship functioning and, despite the two short interruptions, on a steady course back to Mars.

  Campbell sat in his command chair, trying to get a handle on things. He’d gone from the mortal danger of an apocalyptic battle to the restrained joy of a marginal victory - then to the shattering news that his home had been destroyed. Subsequent communiques had updated the initial reports, and Campbell and his people were relieved at the news that casualties had been fairly light, and most of the civilians had successfully withdrawn to the underground shelters. But the thought of Mars’ great cities lying cold and deserted under shattered domes was too depressing to think about, at least while he was still responsible for the remnants of the fleet.

  “Incoming communication, Admiral.” Christensen had been at her station for 36 hours, and her voice was a raspy whisper. “It’s from Mr. Vance, sir.”

  Campbell’s head spun around toward the com station. “Patch it through to me here, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir.” She turned back toward her station. “Coming through now.”

  “Congratulations, Admiral Campbell. We only have patchy information, but it is clear that you performed with your typical skill and bravery and that your people distinguished themselves. Mars thanks you and your brave naval crews.”

  Campbell could hear the fatigue in Vance’s tone too. He couldn’t imagine what had been happening on Mars, the stress Vance was under trying to save the civilians in the wake of Stark’s devastating attack. As hard a road as he had traveled the past few days, Campbell was grateful he wasn’t in Vance’s shoes.

  He appreciated Vance’s words of congratulations and support, but it was difficult to feel any joy after a battle so costly, and his victory, if that’s what they were going to call it, was marred by its ultimate futility. They had destroyed enemy ships, possibly even killed Liang, but it had done nothing to protect Mars f
rom attack.

  “I cannot begin to understand the pain and fatigue your people are feeling right now or the enormous damage your vessels have suffered.” Vance paused briefly. “But I must ask you to undertake another mission, one of the utmost importance. I am transmitting you the coordinates of a secret base located in the asteroid belt. We have excellent intelligence that Gavin Stark himself is present there. You are ordered to destroy the facility and to kill Stark.” Vance’s voice paused, and when he continued, his voice was thick with emotion. “This is the most important order I have ever issued, Duncan, and I am counting on you and your people to see it done, whatever the cost. The future of Mars, of all mankind may depend on destroying Stark now.”

  Campbell sat in his chair listening quietly as the message played. He felt the rage inside him beginning to boil, the anger and hatred for Stark taking control. The dead in his fleet, on Mars, even the thousands he himself had killed with his attack on the Dakota base – it was all because of Stark. He wondered if any single man in history had ever caused such massive death and devastation. His fleet was in no condition to undertake another mission, but that didn’t matter, not at all. Gavin Stark had to die.

  “I know your people are exhausted, and you have suffered terrible losses, but you must undertake this final effort. All of us on Mars are with you in spirit, and you carry the future of your nation with you into this last battle. Good luck to all of you, Duncan. Vance out.”

  Campbell stared straight ahead, all the doubts and pain gone, at least temporarily. “Lieutenant Christensen, advise Commander Vandebaran that I will need as much power as he can give me.” He paused, his hands gripping the armrest of his chair. “And issue an order to all units of the fleet. We are changing course. We have one last battle to fight.”

  Chapter 22

  Paris

  French Zone

  Europa Federalis

  Werner walked down the Champs-Elysees, or what was left of it at least. His troops had not been gentle with Paris or its citizens, despite his orders to refrain from vandalism and looting. The war had been hard, and everyone still in the ranks had lost friends and comrades.

  Europa Federalis had started the war, at least if you believed the CEL claims of innocence in the destruction of Marseilles, and as far as the CEL soldiers were concerned, it was time for them to pay the price. Much of the population had already fled by the time Werner’s lead elements pushed into the city, and from the looks of things, the mob and the remnants of the gendarmerie had engaged in quite a battle of their own.

  The Europan army itself was nowhere to be seen, and the few units still holding the line after the nuclear assault were easily pushed aside. Werner was cautious, still not sure if the enemy was truly prostrate or if they were pulling back to reorder themselves for a counter-attack. He knew that’s what he would have done, using the capital to draw in his enemy and then hitting them with a massive assault around the flank.

  He wanted to dig in, to fortify the city and consolidate his own meager supplies. But that wasn’t an option. The RIC had suffered heavily in the nuclear exchanges on the eastern front, but they hadn’t been as fully mobilized as the CEL. Before long they would be marching fresh formations through the shattered and radioactive terrain, and the CEL had nothing to meet them. General Heinsdorf had barely been able to put together two makeshift divisions from his scattered survivors. When fresh Russian-Indian forces arrived, they’d push right through to Neu-Brandenburg, and into the industrial heartland of the CEL. Unless Werner could finish off the Europans and rush his forces to the east.

  “Potsdorf, I don’t want any of these formations stopping.” He knew the men would want to stay in Paris, at least until they’d gotten some rest and worked their way through the most promising loot. The government elites all had plush apartments in the city and expansive estates along the outskirts. But Werner intended to keep his sword in the enemy’s back. The coast wasn’t far, and pretty soon the enemy would run out of room to retreat. He hoped the high command would offer reasonable terms to entice the Europans to capitulate, but he suspected they would demand a humiliating surrender, even as they faced defeat in the east. And that meant he was going to have to crush every enemy formation remaining in the field, and do it quickly, before the RIC launched another offensive.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The aide’s voice broadcast his exhaustion. Werner knew all his men needed rest, but there was no time. He was planning to have two divisions on the road west by morning. He knew that wouldn’t be popular with his soldiers, but there was no choice.

  “General, we’re getting a high priority communication for you.” Potsdorf walked over, carrying a headset. “It’s General Fritzen at GHQ.”

  Werner took the headset and put it on. “Werner here, sir.”

  “Werner, you are to stand firm in and around Paris. You are not to advance west of the city limits.” Fritzen’s voice was stilted, sour. It was clear he didn’t agree with the orders.

  “Sir, our best chance to defeat the enemy is now. Every day we give them is more time to round up stragglers and reform their scattered units.”

  “Save it, Werner. You’re wasting your time trying to convince me. I already agree with you. But this is from the top. Apparently, the Alliance is trying to work on some peace initiative to end all the fighting.” Werner could tell his superior didn’t think there was a chance in hell anything would come of that. “And we’re to stand firm and not make any provocative moves for 72 hours.”

  “Sir…” Werner sighed softly. Three days was an eternity right now, but he knew there was no point arguing. “Yes, sir. Understood. Werner out.”

  He turned toward Potsdorf. The aide was waiting with an expectant look on his face. “Well, Major. It looks like we’re holding up here for a while. Issue recall orders for the lead divisions. Have them take position in the western suburbs.”

  Potsdorf looked confused, but one glimpse at Werner’s expression was all it took for him to keep it to himself. “Yes, sir,” he said and turned to carry out the orders.

  “Tank, Buck…” Axe increased his pace as soon as he saw his people standing around the tunnel entrance. The last day had been a difficult one, not only because of danger and hardship, but also because of the way he’d begun to think about things. He’d been an opportunist all his life, willing to do whatever it took to live a life above the squalor of the people around him.

  Not the people…his people, he reminded himself. His parents had been Cogs, and he was a Cog too. He was still a survivor, willing to go to extreme measures to ensure the safety of his small band, but he was finding it harder to rationalize some of the violence and brutality. He kept seeing the face of the old man he’d killed, a human being who was now dead because Axe wanted his flashlight. He couldn’t justify his action and, for the first time in a long time, he found that he deeply regretted what he had done. He saw the old man’s face before his eyes, covered with blood and half submerged in the foul, black water. Just as Axe had left him.

  He glanced back at Ellie, who had slowed to a stop at the sight of the other gang members. She eyed them fearfully, suspiciously. Axe had rescued her, taken her from a place where she’d been terribly mistreated. He’d been outraged about what had been done to her, but now he wondered if he was any different than the spoiled, deviant scum who had abused her.

  He looked back at the girl. “Ellie, it’s all right. These are friends.”

  She stayed where she was, an unconvinced expression on her face. She looked like she might bolt and run at any second. Axe knew she would die on her own, but he was afraid to be too insistent with her. She’d been through a lot, and she was very skittish. If he was too aggressive, she’d run for sure.

  “Axe!” Buck turned and ran over. “We’d just about given up on you. Where’d you come from?” He glanced at the tunnel exit then back in the direction Axe had come from.

  “Ended up in the wrong tunnel. Came out about half a kilometer south.�
�� He trudged forward a few more meters, extending his arms and embracing his friend. “I’m glad to be back. I got some decent stuff, but there’s nothing left for us in New York. The politicos are all gone, escaped or killed by the mobs. And the food is running low. Pretty soon the Cogs will start fighting over what is left.” He paused, his head turning slightly to stare across the river at the great towers of Manhattan. “Then they’ll probably start eating each other.” He couldn’t imagine the nightmare developing in the Protected Zone, and he knew things were about to get much worse.

  “What’d you find here, my friend?” Buck’s voice was mocking, lecherous. He leered at the girl standing tentatively behind Axe. “You brought back something worthwhile, alright.

  Axe’s eyes darted back to Ellie, and he could see the girl was about to run. He turned to Buck. “That’s enough of that.” His tone was rugged, threatening. “She’s under my protection. Anybody even looks at her funny, and I’ll cut him into quivering chunks of meat.” He gave Buck a frigid stare. “Understand me?”

  Buck’s faced flushed red with anger, but it passed as quickly as it had come. Axe had been his leader for years, and he was used to taking his orders. “Yeah, boss. I understand.” There was a touch of bitterness in his voice, but he turned away from Ellie and stood next to the others.

  “We’re going to head back east. It’s too dangerous in Manhattan, and everything is running out there anyway. Things are going to get a lot worse there and, eventually, some of the mob is going find its way out here.” He glanced back across the river for a few seconds then turned away. “And we don’t want to be anywhere near here when they do.”