“Anti-matter? On a bombing run? I don't think it's ever been done. It's designed strictly for ship-to-ship attack.”
“I'll grant you, it'll be messy, but I think we should be able to load the warheads into a bomb. The only thing that troubles me is that a shield of this magnitude might require more mass.” Jessit ordered the computer to call up energy readings from the com-web.
“Matter/anti-matter warheads don't get any larger than one kelo-sym, Taelen. Trying to build anything larger is too risky.”
“Agreed. Which is why we have to fire several shots at close range in rapid succession.”
“The cruiser that fired those shots would be in danger of the percussive shockwave, not to mention they could get dragged down with the wave. They'd have to put every bit of shielding to the fore.”
Jessit said nothing at first. Anti-matter weapons were kept in reserve specifically for the massive super-warships that littered space. They'd never been used in a bomb drop on a planet.
He locked his hands behind his back, the way he always did before he sent men into potential suicide missions. “Command decision, sir. Your call.”
Eklan stared at the live pictures of his ships attacking at will. He cleared his throat and opened a channel to his troops. “Stand down.”
Jessit dropped his head and let out a sigh. He had to trust Eklan. But he didn't anticipate it would be quite so hard.
Eklan squinted at the monitor, focusing on the ship closest to the coordinates they had been given. “Andira, load anti-matter weapons. We think several closely spaced volleys might pierce the matrix.”
“Acknowledged, Command,” the voice of Captain Ledesis answered back.
There was a slight pause in communication when Ledesis came on again. “Sir, my Tactical officer has informed me that four anti-matter bursts in immediate succession might weaken the shield as you suspect, but because of the delicacy of the magnetic shielding surrounding the anti-matter particles, we can't fire fast enough to create that anomaly. We'll need another ship firing nearly simultaneously to compensate for the firing delay.”
Jessit lifted a brow in appreciation. Ledesis was one of his best captains. He was a man of incredible prowess when it came to strategy, and Jessit had learned to rely on the young man's instincts. It didn't surprise him that it was Ledesis who had maneuvered his ship directly above the coordinates they'd been given.
“The Ventri here, Commander,” another voice interrupted. “We can alternate fire with the Andira, sir.”
“Very good, Captain Theiss. Get in position and keep this channel open.”
Theiss. Another fine captain. Seasoned. Unflappable. This was a good team.
Dozens of ships hovered above the critical coordinates. Slowly they moved off, retreating to a safe distance while the Andira and Ventri drew closer to the atmosphere above ground zero.
“Andira is in position,” Ledesis said.
“The Ventri is on your starboard,” added Theiss. “Initiating share-protocols.”
A few seconds went by. Theiss came on the speaker again. “Share-protocol complete. I yield fire command to you, Captain.”
“Understood, Ventri.”
Jessit stopped breathing, waiting for the first bomb drop. Anti-matter was nothing to take lightly. Few ships carried such weapons due to their delicate nature. And now they were getting ready to annihilate a planet and quite possibly the two ships in synchronous orbit, as well.
Eklan switched to an interior view of the Andira.
Captain Ledesis sat confidently in his chair, his fingers tented in front of him.
Ledesis was a thorough officer, but he was also impulsive, plunging headlong into danger when other captains held back.
He knew Theiss, who was older and more seasoned, would pull his ship away as soon as they launched weapons. He hoped Ledesis would be just as prudent.
Jessit admired the man's spirit and unwavering determination. But the young captain was anxious to make history and that was never a good combination, especially in the heat of battle.
Ledesis hailed Eklan again. “Weapons loaded and primed, Commander. At your discretion.”
Eklan looked back at Jessit, perhaps seeking confirmation that he was doing the right thing.
Jessit remained silent. This battle was in the hands of these two captains. Eklan had only to give the order.
“Shields on full, gentlemen. Ledesis, you have fire control.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Ledesis' bridge spurred into action. Each man called out his stats, verifying them with the Ventri. Ledesis focused on the monitor and the deep blue of the vast Pacific Ocean. “For the gods.” He whispered in prayer. His eyes turned bright. “Fire anti-matter!”
The Andira lobbed the first bomb, hitting the target precisely. The Ventri fired immediately afterward. Followed by a third, then a fourth volley from each ship.
The energy readings of the com-web fluctuated, trying to maintain its matrix. The fourth blast warped the field enough to collapse the shield at that one miniscule point.
There was no way to know how long it would take the com-web to reestablish shield integrity. But Jessit was sure their window of opportunity would be small. Evidently, Ledesis knew it too, because he ordered the Andira through the weakened walls.
“No!” Eklan yelled at the screen.
“Damn, the fool.” Jessit gauged the ship's heading from a base console.
The Ventri pulled back, but the Andira vaulted forward, immediately following the blasts. Communications faded in and out as it fought the fluctuating waves of the force field.
“Shields are gone. Compensating with dampeners.” True to training, the Andira's helmsman remained calm.
“We've lost power, sir. Backups have also failed,” said a bridge engineer. “The electromagnetic pulse from the blasts has destroyed helm control. We're in freefall, Captain.” The man looked up from his monitor, a morbid face of resignation. “I'm sorry, sir. We're not going to make it.”
The transmission crackled before snapping to dead silence.
Eklan kicked a chair. Jessit probably would have been next had he been close enough. It was never easy to lose men, good men—and now a whole ship. Jessit understood Eklan's grief all too well.
“It was a fool's move, sir,” Jessit said. “It wasn't your fault.”
“I don't need your pity!”
Jessit narrowed his eyes at him. “A fact, sir. Not pity.” He tugged at the hem of his tunic.
“At the risk of insubordination, may I remind the Commander that fool or not, Captain Ledesis gave you your chance. Order the rest of the cruisers in, before the shield strengthens. Earth's air forces won't take long to reach the area.”
Jessit and Eklan returned to the bridge. Every screen was targeting the trajectories of several warships—Earth's combined forces.
American Air Force jets arrived first, screaming at them from a group of islands in the Pacific.
Eklan studied the new threat on the board, fighters with amazing speed and maneuverability. “What are those?”
“Checking database, sir.” The Tactical chief looked up from his screen. “Got it. F-22 Raptors, sir. The latest American technology. I've located their base on the Hawaiian Islands.” He scanned his intelligence files. “Standard fighter on most accounts, Commander, but they're loaded with what the Americans call ACMs, advanced cruise missiles.” He read off his screen further, swallowing visibly. “Those could hurt us, sir. They are tipped with thermonuclear warheads.”
“Damn,” Eklan cursed. “Tell them to lock on to those fighters. Let's take them out first.”
The Tactical officer summoned radio and thermal scanning units. He glanced up at Eklan, looking sick. “I'm sorry, sir. I-I lost them.”
“What?”
“They've disappeared from my sensors.”
“How?”
“Unknown, sir. We don't have much information on their stealth capabilities.”
A board op
erator monitoring traffic shouted a curse. “I found them!”
Tactical went back to his scanner. “Where? I don't see anything.”
“Neither did I,” said the operator. “I found them because they just vaporized one of our cruisers.”
Eklan clutched the arms of his chair. “I want all cruisers to travel in pairs. Rely on visuals if you have to, but find me those damn fighters, and blow them out of the sky.”
It took losing three more cruisers before the Raptors could be identified. Their sensor signature was so small, they weren't recognized right away, but once their computers knew what to look for, they targeted the fighters at will.
So far from home, they couldn't afford to lose any more ships.
The opening in the bubble remained small, and it had already begun repairing itself. The ships inside the shield would be trapped until they could bring down the com-web. They didn't have much time.
Eklan hesitated, a look of uncertainty on his face. He was going to hold back—Jessit could read it on his face. Damn him. Not now.
“The bubble is reestablishing itself, sir. We'll be cut off from our ships inside the atmosphere in a few seconds.”
“Confirmed, sir,” Com said. “Communication between us is faltering.”
Jessit rushed Eklan, standing mere inches from him. “Move in now, Commander!”
Eklan glared at Jessit with all the venom he could muster. “I won't trap the rest of our forces inside the atmosphere.”
Jessit got in Eklan's face, risking certain insubordination. “We have the advantage here, sir. We can locate and destroy the com-web's core once and for all.”
“You're out of line, Taelen.”
“And you are wasting our resources!”
“Senit.” Eklan pointed to Jessit. “Take your master to his quarters. See that he stays there.”
Senit pulled Jessit toward the doorway, but Eklan grabbed Jessit by the arm before he left.
“If I see you on this bridge again, I'll have you arrested.”
Jessit looked back at the monitor. Dozens of their heavy warships were still outside the strengthening shield. “Your bridge, Commander. Your conscience. You've made a tactical error here.”
“Senit, get him out of here. Now.”
Senit dragged Jessit away, but before they left, he heard the helmsman make one final announcement. “Shield has reestablished, sir. They're on their own.”
***
“Are you insane?” Senit said as he pushed Jessit down a long corridor.
“He's making a mistake.”
“Maybe so, but you of all people know better than to call him on it.”
“Our best chance of destroying the com-web was from the inside.”
“That's no longer your decision, Taelen.”
The words felt so sharp they could have cut flesh. Jessit stopped in his tracks and looked down at his feet. “You're right. It isn't.”
“I shouldn't have said it that way. I'm sorry.”
“Too many people are sorry today. I'm the least of your worries.”
“The Lady will be avenged. Eklan isn't going to give up. He's just not going to fight this war the way you would.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And that's what bothers me.”
Chapter 35
The situation room at its new secured location disintegrated into a circus. The Alturians somehow squeezed their way into Earth's atmosphere and were wreaking havoc worldwide. Dr. Benjamin Zaak, chief crisis analyst for the War Council studied the streaming data. His job was to break down the data and offer extrapolations. He only hoped he was as good as his bosses thought.
The communications officer had already wired Zaak's laptop directly to FAIA and Bubba. He was now seeing events unfold in real time.
Generals screamed at their subordinates as one squadron after another fell out of the sky. They had killed several enemy cruisers with a squadron of Raptors out of Hickman, but now they were gone, obliterated as soon as the enemy locked on to their signal.
Zaak tried to access Bubba's video history. They knew General Sorinsen had had a conference call with the Alturian Commander when they discovered a fleet of ships heading in Earth's direction, but they'd been unable to get a log of events. Bubba said the data had been destroyed. But by who?
Rumor had it that Sorinsen was dead. The War Council was trying to assume command of the com-web, but FAIA refused outright, saying Sorinsen was her only master.
Master, it called him. Master. That AI was as loony as Sorinsen.
If Sorinsen wasn't dead, he had initiated a coup. And if that were true, he might as well shoot himself in the head right now. Every general in this boardroom would gladly pull the trigger if they could get FAIA back in their control.
General Mitchum barked at his com officer. “Contact the Alturians! We have to reestablish communication before it's too late.”
Zaak watched the communications officer try radio, digital and the new holo-field links, but the Alturians were either ignoring them or unable to receive because of the com-web. Zaak had a feeling even if the enemy could hear them, they wouldn't respond—they were too busy mopping the floor with them.
Radar sputtered back online.
“New intel, sirs,” Zaak yelled out.
“Let's have it,” said General Mitchum.
“Alturian cruisers have split off toward the Russian, Chinese and European theaters, but the biggest contingent of warships is still coming toward us.”
Mitchum glanced at the huge global map at the back of the room. Blue glowing dots indicated the patrol trail of the nuclear subs. So far, the order hadn't been given to fire. After what the Alturians did to the Raptors, the generals weren't in a hurry to annihilate their navy, as well.
Mitchum pointed to several dots on the West Coast. “Contact the Dallas, the Sea Wolf and the Helena. Tell them to implement strafe and run maneuvers. The rest are to remain deep and run silent until we find out how far Alturian weapons can track underwater. We can't seem to hide from them in the air, but we might have a chance if we're submerged.”
There was an interminable hesitation before the communications officer lifted his head again.
“Message received, sir. All boats have acknowledged.” Zaak pounded his desk. “Sonovabitch.”
“What was that, son?” Mitchum drawled.
He gulped. Zaak hadn't realized he'd said it out loud. He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “The enemy has reached Russian air space, sir. Something hit a squadron of Russian fighters.” He let out a held-in breath. “Satellite images haven't detected any missile fire, but the Ruskies are falling out of the sky. Every last one of them.”
“Does Bubba have an analysis?”
“No, sir. Bubba is still holding back. Checking Russian intel.” His computer pinged at him. “Got something. Coming in now, sir.” The communiqués were in Russian, and he keyed a request for translation reading it to himself first to make sure it made sense. “It appears to be an energy weapon of some sort. It's frying anything that runs off a microchip.”
Tayback, Mitchum's second, leaned over Zaak's laptop and read the transcript off his monitor. “Most of the electronics on our fighters are shielded,” he assured Mitchum.
“Most.” Mitchum repeated. “But not all.”
A wireless red phone rang with one piercing trill. An adjutant, always standing by, picked it up and brought it over to Mitchum. “It's the president, sir.”
Mitchum didn't take more than a few seconds on the line before he hung up. He tossed the phone to his adjutant and motioned to his men for silence.
“The president has ordered the use of full nuclear reprisal. All ships are hereby ordered to change out their armaments to nuclear warheads. They are to engage the enemy regardless of where they are found.”
“Sir,” Tayback said. “May I remind the general that we do not use nukes over sovereign soil.”
Mitchum sat down, his face turning ashen gray. “We do now.”
Zaak's eyes burned. He had just come off the graveyard shift and had been sleeping peacefully when his wife woke him and told him two men were here to escort him to a job. It was a matter of national security, they told him. A helicopter waited for them in a nearby park.
His wife held their baby and hugged him hard before he left. He had never seen her so worried. But then they'd never seen two armed men standing at their doorway.
He looked down at the countdown on the upper right of his computer screen. Two hours and forty-six minutes. That was as long as this air battle has lasted so far. It felt much, much longer.
The Alturians targeted military bases and missile silos, and they had had a field day in Asia and Russia. For all their military might, most of it was landlocked, making them easy targets. The enemy had decimated them in minutes.
The U.S. wasn't faring much better. While they were able to slow the enemy's advance with the use of their subs, it didn't take long for the Alturians to realize that the subs were waterlocked. As Mitchum had hoped, the enemy couldn't target as well underwater and they avoided the oceans when possible.
As the clock ticked down to hour three, Zaak noticed the enemy changing tactics.
“General Mitchum, sir.”
“What is it, Zaak?”
“Bogies are moving inland, sir. Two warships have changed trajectory, heading straight for New York. Two more ships are heading for our location.”
“Can they pick up our signals?”
Zaak shrugged. “No way to tell, sir. We're not using the com-web. We're using a fiber-optic secure line.”
“Goddamn it!” Jameson, a man Zaak knew to be unflappable, cursed aloud.
“What have you got, Jameson?”
“They're blinding us, sir. The ships outside the shield are destroying every single satellite we've got in orbit. At this rate, we'll have no sensors outside of atmo in a matter of minutes.”
Mitchum nodded to General Tayback. “Unleash the Gorgon, General. It's our last hope up there.”
Tayback shoved a board operator off his chair and keyed in his password. He nodded to a second man, and he too keyed in a password at his station. The shield opened a tiny hole, arguably imperceptible to the Alturians. He sent a message to their leviathan satellite nicknamed the Gorgon. It was a monster strapped with twenty-eight missiles, each armed with a fifty-megaton nuclear warhead.
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