by Dietmar Wehr
“Send out the General Alert and get me the Council Chairman,” said Chenko in a resigned voice. He noticed that the noise level in the room went up as the staff sent out the alert notice to the entire planet. “Do we have any lasersats that can fire on that ship?” he asked.
“Just one, Admiral. It wasn’t in a position to fire on any missiles, but it does have line-of-sight to that ship, and we have a good firing solution on it.”
“Then let’s take the shot while we can,” ordered Chenko. This time the Duty Officer did acknowledge the order. The display flashed again, and the red triangle lost one of its sides, indicating a hit.
1st Empire Fleet Ship Victorious
Senior Commander Nagumo swore as his tactical display showed the fleet flagship get hit by the full fury of an exploding lasersat’s x-ray laser beams.
“Try to raise the Admiral again!” he shouted. The orders to launch a massive missile barrage by every ship in the fleet had taken him by surprise, and then the lack of communications after the launch had puzzled him, but now he needed to know if Admiral Romanov was alive and still able to exercise command of the fleet. If not, then he had to assume temporary command of the fleet and continue the operation. Even as he thought that, he realized that there wouldn’t be much left of the operation after the remaining missiles hit. Landing troops at that point would be a waste of time unless they were going to try to save as many survivors as possible. The troops weren’t trained for that and didn’t have anywhere close to enough of the right kind of supplies to help more than a tiny fraction of Earth’s population. Nagumo couldn’t get rid of a nagging feeling that something had gone terribly wrong and that the missile attack was a mistake.
“Where’s that com channel to the Admiral?” he asked.
“No reply, Sir,” said the Com Officer. Nagumo cursed again. As the seconds passed and the waves of missile got closer to the Earth, that nagging feeling at the back of his head was getting worse. This wasn’t the mission at all! Romanov had told his ship C.O.s that they were to open the way so that the troops could land and pacify the planet, not blast it back into the Stone Age for God sakes!
Planetary Defense Ops:
Chenko pounded the railing in front of him. Where the hell was that com channel to the Council Chairman?
“Council Chairman is on the line now, Admiral,” said a shaken voice that didn’t sound like the Duty Officer. Before Chenko could say anything, he heard the Chairman speak.
“What’s happening Admiral Chenko?”
“Earth is under missile attack, Mr. Chairman. We have one confirmed enemy ship, but I have a strong hunch that there are more we can’t detect yet. We don’t have a lot of time. The nearest missiles will hit in less than 60 seconds. We’ve already fired all the lasersats that had any chance of hitting those missiles that we can see. I strongly recommend that we broadcast a surrender declaration while there’s still time for the enemy to stop their missiles.”
“Surrender? My God, you can’t be serious! Those missiles will do some damage, yes, but we’ll have our ground-based defenses if they try to land troops afterwards! No, I won’t authorize the surrender! Grow a spine, dammit!”
Chenko shook his head. “You’re assuming that those missiles have chemical explosive warheads intended for surgical strikes on specific ground targets, Mr. Chairman. There’s too much at risk to make that assumption. Those missiles might very well be carrying nukes, and if there’s as many as I suspect, civilization on this planet will disappear!”
“No! They wouldn’t dare launch a massive nuclear strike on Earth! You’re letting your fear cloud your judgement, Admiral! I thought you had more guts than that!”
“Well, we’ll find out in about ten seconds when the first missiles hit.” Chenko was about to add that one of the thirteen missiles on the display seemed to be headed for the city where the Federation Council was based and where the Chairman was right now. He decided not to share that information because the missile would hit before he finished the sentence.
“You’ll see that I’m ri—“ The voice was cut off with a high-pitched screech. Chenko felt a rumble and knew that Zurich had been nuked. The Planetary Defense Center was far enough away and deep enough under a mountain that it was safe from anything except a direct hit by a very powerful warhead. The Federation Council was now gone, and Chenko felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He no longer had any civilians who could tie his hands, and that meant he could take whatever action he deemed necessary now.
“I want an open broadcast on all channels! Tell those bastards that we surrender, and let’s hope they can still hear us through all the blast EM pulses!”
1st Empire Fleet Ship Victorous
“I’m getting the same transmission on all channels from the planet, Commander! They say they surrender!”
“Okay, Weapons Officer, auto-destruct our remaining missiles. Com, tell the rest of the fleet that I’m assuming command, and that they’re to auto-destruct their missiles too!” ordered Nagumo. He felt relief that he wouldn’t be witnessing the death of humanity’s home today. He had a few anxious moments when Challenger’s CO demanded confirmation that Nagumo had the right to assume Fleet command, but he was able to convince her that contact with Conqueror was lost, and with Earth’s surrender, there was no longer any reason to destroy it. It was a relief when all the remaining missiles had destroyed themselves, and Earth’s surrender had been accepted.
Twenty-four hours later:
Chenko stepped into the well-appointed quarters of the Acting Fleet Commander. The guard who had escorted him there announced his presence, and Nagumo came out of what probably was the bedroom. Chenko recognized him from a brief encounter years earlier when Nagumo was still a loyal Federation officer. Nagumo nodded to the guard, who turned and left.
“Have a seat, Admiral Chenko,” said Nagumo in a surprisingly non-hostile voice. Chenko did so. “Can I offer you something to drink?” asked Nagumo.
“No thank you. I don’t drink with traitors,” said Chenko as casually as he could. There was a flash of anger on Nagumo’s face that quickly disappeared. He nodded.
“The label is accurate. I did betray my oath to the Federation; I won’t deny that. Would you like to know why?” Nagumo was surprised when Chenko shook his head.
“Not really. I’m sure you think you had a good reason, but I can’t think of anything that would justify what you’ve done, so don’t bother.”
Nagumo strode over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. With that in hand, he came back and sat opposite Chenko. After taking a sip from his drink, he said, “My reason is the same as General Trojan’s reason. Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why General Trojan declared the Empire and himself as Emperor?”
Chenko was curious, but didn’t want to admit it, so he stayed silent.
Nagumo smiled. “You’re not saying no, so I’ll take your silence as a yes. Tell me, Admiral, what did you and General Masterson expect would happen after the SSU was defeated?”
Chenko shrugged. “Nothing spectacular or mysterious. Those rebel planets would be re-integrated into the FPS, and the status quo would have been restored.”
“Suppose I told you that Majestic did a VERY comprehensive projection of the post-war period extending another century beyond the war’s end.”
A chill went up Chenko’s spine. He and Masterson had a hunch that Majestic was involved somehow in this abomination. “And what did the machine come up with?”
“Chaos and anarchy.” After a pause he continued. “The attempt to suppress the SSU would have generated only more resentment and anger. Eventually, there’d have been another attempt at secession, and another after that, and another after that. The Federation’s been living on borrowed time for the past three decades. Majestic calculated a better than even chance that it would have collapsed within three decades, and after that it would have been a free-for-all. Planets would have built up fleets and armies. Then they would have gone after eac
h other with weapons of mass destruction and death, nuclear bombardment of the kind that Earth got a taste of yesterday, plus horrendous depopulation from bio-weapons. Whole planets would have lost all human life on them. Civilization would have broken down until the survivors would be fighting over food and water with clubs. That Dark Age would have lasted for at least three whole centuries, Admiral.”
Chenko scowled. It sounded pretty awful, but of course it would have to in order to justify Nagumo’s betrayal, and yet he sounded as if he believed what he was saying. When it was clear that Chenko wasn’t going to say anything, Nagumo continued.
“Majestic came up with an alternative scenario that was equally compelling in its detail. A central government with a strong, decisive individual at the helm, dedicated to preventing any planet from developing or building offensive weapons like ships or tanks, could keep the peace and allow all planets the breathing space to develop at their own pace.”
Before he could go on, Chenko interrupted. “But that’s what the Federation was for!”
Nagumo gave an amused chuckle. “You really believe that, don’t you? What you don’t seem to realize is that the Federation is a de facto Oligarchy. Earth dominates the Assembly, and the Council and the big Chartered Companies dominate Earth’s representatives to the FPS. That’s not a strong central government at all. Policies that are politically expedient and that benefit the Chartered Companies are the ones that get voted into law, not ones that are good for the Federation as a whole. That’s why the SSU was formed in the first place. Planets were exploited by the big companies, and they were helpless under Federation Law to prevent it. Majestic’s logic was air-tight. You’ve never actually seen the machine in operation, have you? Even before we expanded it in Phase II, it was far more capable than the old Oracle device that Trojan used on Earth. When Trojan looked at the analysis and the computations, he became convinced that he had a higher duty to Human Civilization that trumped his oath to the Federation. I came to the same conclusion after I looked at Majestic’s results. Others have too. In fact, I don’t know of anyone who’s taken a good look at the analysis and hasn’t reached the same conclusion.
Chenko refused to look at Nagumo. If he was telling the truth, then the fact that others had voluntarily switched sides was a compelling fact that made Nagumo’s explanation very hard to ignore. Chenko remembered a conversation with Masterson early in the war, during which Chenko had speculated that maybe the Federation was too big and travel times were too long for it to be governed effectively by one central authority.
“You examined Majestic’s analysis yourself; you didn’t just take Trojan’s word for it?” he asked in a somber voice.
“I looked it over very carefully. Trojan insisted on it, just like he did with the others. There’s no doubt in my mind at all that Majestic came up with that analysis. In order to ignore it, you’d have to assume that the machine was falsifying the computations for some ulterior motive, which you have to admit, Admiral, is pretty ludicrous, right?”
Chenko did think it was ludicrous, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say so. “I hope you’re not expecting me to jump aboard that bandwagon. I’ve been an officer in the Federation Navy for over 50 years. I don’t think I could change now, regardless of how compelling the arguments for it might be.” After a pause, he said in a low tone, “I’m willing to admit that if you believe that analysis to be accurate, then I can understand the rationale for setting aside your oath. I’m not saying I agree with it, but at least I can understand it. What I have a much harder time understanding is why it was necessary to commit mass murder with nukes yesterday. We’re still counting the dead, but it’ll be at least 300 million souls. Why?”
Nagumo’s expression took on a puzzled look. “I honestly don’t know how that happened. When Admiral Romanov briefed us prior to leaving Hadley, there was no mention of using nukes against civilians at all! The plan was to sneak up on your lasersats with our stealth cruisers, knock them out, then bring in the transports and land the troops. When my Weapons Officer got the digital instructions to program the missile barrage from Romanov’s W.O., we were all surprised by it, but we obeyed because orders transmitted from the flagship via datalink were routine. After the missile launch began, I tried to contact Romanov verbally for an explanation, but there was no response.”
“What about asking him now?” asked Chenko.
Nagumo shook his head. “Romanov and his entire Bridge crew are dead. That lasersat strike managed to penetrate deep enough to turn the Bridge into a slaughterhouse. The x-ray laser beams vaporized sufficient metal to instantly bring the temperature in that room to the point where human bodies turned to ashes within seconds. Obviously, all the Bridge computer equipment was destroyed too, so we can’t replay the recording of what happened prior to the laser attack.”
“Any chance that Romanov’s W.O. set up the attack on his own initiative?”
Nagumo shook his head. “I know his Weapons Officer. She’s about as level-headed as they come. She would never do something like that without orders.”
“Then somebody gave her those orders. Was it Romanov or was it someone else? Trojan maybe?” asked Chenko.
“Maybe. I know that the Emperor was putting pressure on the Admiral to use nukes against civilians if the situation warranted it, but the general impression I and the other ship commanders had was that the Admiral was reluctant to use them, and I agree with that. We’re trying to save planets from mass deaths, not inflict them.”
Chenko shook his head in dismay. “So what happens now?”
“The government machinery of the FPS will be disbanded. The troops trained to defend it will be disarmed and sent home. I’ll leave behind a contingent of the Emperor’s troops to make sure that things stay that way after the Fleet leaves. With Earth pacified and the SSU crushed, the Empire will continue to spread its authority throughout the rest of Human Space, and the fighting will be over. If it’s any consolation, the Emperor has no desire to interfere in planetary affairs. How you people run your planet is your own business, so long as you don’t try to build warships or weapons of mass destruction. Any attempt to do that will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. If there’s any silver lining in what happened yesterday, it’s that the whole issue was settled before we got around to destroying all your space-based infrastructure. That’s no longer necessary, so Earth gets to keep it. It’s not worth 300 million dead, I agree, but it’s something.”
“Yeah, something,” said Chenko in a defeated tone.
Chapter Four
Day 350/2552
Hadley
Trojan slammed his fist down on the desk and winced (in pain), and it wasn’t just from the pain in his hand. It was also from the pain of having read in the report transmitted by Acting Fleet Admiral Nagumo that his long-time friend, Romanov, had died in the fouled up attack on Earth. Before he could utter a curse that might make him feel better, the wall display on the opposite wall pinged for attention. Majestic was transmitting a text message.
[Death of Admiral Romanov has increased the probability of a successful conclusion to the establishment of the Empire. Massive casualties on Earth also have a beneficial impact on overall probabilities due to deterrent effect on other planets. Recommend that you allow implant of communication device for yourself. The improved efficiency will boost probability of Empire Project success to 98.3%]
“I will not have that damned thing implanted in my neck!” said Trojan.
[Without direct communication…]
The text message stopped in mid-sentence when Trojan, looking away from the display, said, “If you don’t stop nagging me about that implant device, I’ll have you shut down!” Trojan decided he needed to get out of his office for a while to someplace where Majestic couldn’t bother him. He needed a distraction to dull the sense of loss about Romanov. A visit with one of his concubines might do the trick. Usually he was too tired at the end of the day to feel any sexual energy, but it was still ear
ly, and he decided to take the rest of the day off. Emperors were allowed to do that once in a while. The thought made him laugh as he sprinted for the door.
Day 007/2553
Midgard
Murphy leaned back as he engaged the aircar’s auto-pilot. With the vehicle now able to find its own way back to the volcano base, he had time to ponder the implications of the information a freighter had just delivered. Earth was now part of the Empire too! The fact that Admiral Chenko and General Masterson were now under the control of Trojan’s fanatic troops made Murphy want to smash something in frustration. The first prototype ship was almost ready, and now the whole project was in jeopardy because the Empire had struck first. He hoped Chenko had followed his advice about not keeping any records of the project on Earth. If Romanov got wind of it, he would send his ships to Midgard and carefully recon every square meter of both the planet and the moon. There was a good chance they’d find the underground metal extraction complex on the moon and maybe even the shipyard inside the volcano. Dammit, just when he was beginning to have hope that the Empire and perhaps even the Federation could somehow be overcome, the Empire had struck a major blow to his carefully nurtured plans.