“You’d rather not tell them we’re under attack?”
I said, “No one’s attacked us yet.” Yet I was certain they would, in time. “We’d panic our joeys, Thorne. They’re still children.”
Tolliver said, “U.N.N.S. cadets can face—”
I waved vaguely at the bulkhead. “They belong at home with their mothers. What right had we to pretend they’re adults, take them off-planet to ... It seemed too much trouble to continue.
“Farside can’t be defended.” Tolliver tapped the console. “We have no laser cannon. Even the Trainers are unarmed.”
Sergeant Obutu’s voice was soft. “Even with weapons, middies and cadets can’t hold against an alien armada. What about making a run for groundside?”
“In what, the transport shuttle?” Again I paced. “We only have one, and it’s not built for reentry. I doubt the fish would let us transfer at Earthport Station.”
She flushed at my sarcasm, but persisted. “We could orbit just above Earth’s atmosphere. At least we’d have a chance to maneuver.”
“Our transport can’t hold more than fifty. Who would we leave behind?” That brought a silence.
“So, we wait?” Thorne.
“Yes. There’s nothing else to—”
The speaker blared again. “—narrowly missing Vancouver. Fires are burning out of control in—”
“—FISH OUTRIDERS IN SECTIONS FIVE THROUGH NINE. WE’LL TRY TO HOLD OUT ON THE BRIDGE.”
Thorne leaned over my desk, his face inches from mine. “Captain, this may be their last night! Tell them!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Was that an order?”
He blushed. “No. Sorry.”
“If it’s their last night, would you have them spend it in terror? I’ll make an announcement tomorrow, if the fish haven’t shown by then.”
The voice from the speaker was light-years distant. “Admiral Iskander, speaking from London. We’re gathering situation reports, but it’s already clear we’re under all-out attack.”
“Observant of you!” Tolliver’s fists bunched.
“Be silent!”
“—til we know enough to develop an overall strategy, every Station, every base, must defend itself independently. Ships in squadrons, follow the orders of your flotilla commander. All vessels within five hours of Earth proceed immediately toward Earth’s outer atmosphere where fish are massing. Further orders will fol—”
“—SEVENTY-FIVE OR MORE. NEARLY A HUNDRED STTLL SURROUND THE STATION, AND WE LOST OUR TOPSIDE LASERS ABOUT AN HOUR—”
“Mayday! Mayday!”
Tolliver was grim. “It’ll be a short war, Captain. They’ve taken out the Navy.”
“Not all of it. We still—”
“—assume Callisto Base is destroyed. That leaves the Naval Station on Deimos as the only—”
“Fiske here, in Electra. Am I senior?”
“—Coordinates twelve, two-sixty, fifty-four—”
“—massing over East Asia! For the moment they’re ignoring us, but we need help, they’re too many for the lasers to take—”
Thorne looked up. “Tolliver’s right. We’ve lost.”
“Maybe they’ll leave us.” On Hope Nation, they’d sometimes withdrawn for no discernible reason. “Once we have time to organize ... Wearily, I turned the volume down. If only I’d made my point clearer to Admiralty, we’d have a caterwaul bomb in production.
We sat in silence.
“In a way it’s a relief,” Thorne said. My jaw dropped. He added, “We all have to go someday. Now I know it’ll be soon.”
Oddly, I understood. Whether the fish came tonight or days from now, soon I would face my reckoning with Him. “Even Hell seems preferable to the wait.” I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud.
“That’s rot, Captain!” Tolliver’s contempt was withering. “The renowned Nick Seafort giving up? You’ve never done that!”
I growled, “What should I do, take command of the Hull?” I waved toward the mockup half buried in the Lunar dust. “We’ve no ships, no weapons, no place to hide. Sooner or later we’ll run out of supplies!”
“Think of something! You always have!” Abruptly he turned away.
Thorne said, “As you pointed out, we’re unarmed.” When he spoke again his tone was wry. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll go to the lounge. I’m of a mood for Arcvid.”
Tolliver snarled, “That’s what I’d expect of a loser like you!”
I snapped, “Apologize, Edgar. At once.” Tolliver murmured something inaudible.
Thorne shrugged. “I don’t mind, Captain. He’s right. Back when we were cadets and middies, I didn’t understand. Mr. Tolliver, I wish you well. Commandant, I think if—if things had worked out differently ... For a moment he sounded shy. “I’d have tried to redeem myself for you.”
“Thank you.” I rubbed my eyes. Hours ago—or minutes—I’d been ready to cane Jerence for brawling. Now our very civilization was crumbling. “Mr. Thorne, go to your Arcvid. Ms. Obutu, you’re free to leave. You too, Tolliver.”
Jeff Thorne hesitated. “I could stay, if you like.”
“I’ll call if I need you.”
“Do that.” He left.
Tolliver waited until we were alone. “Shall I get your suit, sir?”
“No. I won’t be needing it.”
“If the fish ... He grasped my intent, and stopped.
“Aye aye, sir. Will you sleep?”
“I’ll wait by the caller.” My cabin held nothing. “Leave me be!” Glowering, I watched him go.
I shut the hatch, turned low the lights, sat hunched at the console, scanning channel after channel.
“—onto Lunapolis. We’ve lost thousands. Admiralty warrens decompressed but there may be survivors. Our puters are offline. If the fish hold off awhile we can—”
“—have a rock! Must be two hundred of them around it. Am tracking—”
“—estimates nearly six hundred fish altogether—”
The fish had scored a complete surprise, and had gained overwhelming strategic superiority. They ...
Annie! My wife was abandoned in Cardiff, while fish gathered above, shepherding rocks to destroy her.
And I was helpless. I swallowed my impotent rage.
Why did they attack like frenzied sharks? No one knew. I supposed it no longer mattered.
The anguished reports from the speaker faded into distance.
WHY HADN’T I MADE THEM LISTEN?
A distant call. “Be alert for distress call from U.N.A.F. shuttle 382AF or its lifepods. Admiral Georges De Marney, recently returned from Hope Nation, was en route from London Spaceport to assume command—”
A knock. I raised my head.
“Me, sir.” Jeff Thorne. For a moment, he hesitated, then his shoulders squared. “I don’t know what I was thinking. My place is here.”
“In my office?” I waved at the furnishings. “You want the job?”
“No, sir.” He smiled at my sally. “You handle it well. My duty is to help.”
I looked away, ashamed. His tone recalled a young midshipman I’d once known. “Jeff—”
“Yes, sir.” He came to the desk. “Remember when I told you Arcvid’s like life? We’re at level twenty-three. The ships come too fast. We’re about to lose the board.” Despite his words, his eyes were animated. “Let’s see if we can make another level or two, sir.”
“God, Jeff!” My voice was raw. “If only we could!”
“Let’s start by closing our decompression hatches; that’ll buy time even if a bomb hits.”
“The concussion alone would kill us.”
“Depends how close it strikes, right?” He gestured toward the barracks. “We want to save as many joeys as we can.”
I was silent a moment. Then I stood, offered my hand. “Welcome back, Mr. Thorne.”
His fingers clasped mine. “Thank you, sir.”
“I wish I’d let them give me a ship. What a mission we could fly, you and I.” I s
miled, but in truth I was nearly out of my mind with frustration. I needed to do something, anything. Attack a fish with my bare hands. If they came to me I’d ... My smile faded. Using what, a hand laser?
Anyway, I had no way to attract fish; Farside had no ships to call them.
“Sir, may I close the hatches?”
Static. “—for a broadcast by Secretary General Rafael De Vala.”
I bent closer to the speaker.
“Citizens, members of our Armed and Naval Forces. Home system is under intense attack by the aliens known as the fish. Hundreds circle Earth itself. Galveston and nearby towns have been swamped by a tidal wave.
“As we learned at Hope Nation, the fish will use any means to subdue us. They may hit us with a lethal virus. They may try to bomb our cities. They may attack in ways we can’t anticipate. There are unconfirmed reports they’ve already landed on the surface of Earth.”
I sat heavily, rested my head in my hands.
“Lunapolis is destroyed, and with it, Fleet Operations Command. We’re reorganizing command at Admiralty in London, but meanwhile—” The SecGen’s voice wavered, then resumed.
“—though many elements of the fleet remain unharmed, our forces are scattered, our communications disrupted. Fish attack our groundside and satellite lasers in ever-increasing numbers.”
Remote-controlled lasers couldn’t fight them off. Even the fleet wasn’t enough.
“U.N. Armed Forces across the planet are to engage the aliens wherever they try to land. Admiralty sends the following signal to all Naval units: ‘All ships withdraw from engagement, and take up position in geosynchronous orbit over North America and Europe. At all costs we will defend our industrial base.’”
He faltered. “Admiralty sends the following message. ‘To all ships and forces, everywhere: The United Nations expects every man to do his duty.’”
The speaker went silent.
“He abandoned Asia and Africa!” Thorne was stunned.
“Half the fleet is lost, maybe more! Should we protect African jungle, or the Boeing-McDonnell plants?”
“But ...
I sighed. “Go close the hatches, Jeff. There’s not much else we can do.” If only we had the caterwaul bomb.
“Aye aye, sir.” He trod to the console in the outer office, tapped the control keys.
I sat wretchedly, as calls poured over the speaker.
If I took our shuttle, I could get to the fish at Earthport Station.
But the shuttle had no weapons.
Ram the bastards. I’d done it before.
They’d overwhelm me before I had a chance to do much damage. There were myriads of fish, and only one of me.
Time and again I’d refused a ship. Now I was on the far side of the moon, on a training base with no attack weapons.
“Groundside lasers broke it up! Only small pieces left!”
“—N.S. Targon. I’ve got to take the chance and Fuse. They’re after our—”
“If anyone can hear me, this is Captain Roman de Ville, in a lifepod drifting inward toward the Sun. Three fish are Outside. One of them is swinging a—”
Please, God. Help us.
Thorne returned.
“Jeff, I want to be alone.”
His face fell. “Yes, sir. I’ll check the barracks.”
“Good.” Opening hatches to work his way along the warrens would give me time to ponder my folly.
I’d been the only person who had enough encounters with fish to comprehend their true menace, the one person with influence to persuade Admiral Duhaney to speed manufacture of the caterwaul bomb. I could have made them listen, made them prepare. But rather than annoy the Admiral, I’d worried about my petty career. And doomed the human race.
Lord God, what will I say to You, when the time comes? Do You have someplace worse than Hell to consign me?
“—whatever you can to hold them off. You’ve GOT to buy us time!”
Buy time for what? The fleet was devastated; we’d need years to rebuild, even if the fish retreated.
“—lost with all hands. U.N.S. Victoria was the fastship brought home some months ago by Captain Nicholas Sea—”
“—need time to evacuate the cities, if nothing else! Attack, I told you! I don’t care what odds—”
I became aware of a sharp ache in my hand. I’d scraped my knuckles when I slammed them into the console.
I wrapped my handkerchief across my aching fingers. Had it all come to a hopeless effort to evacuate our vulnerable cities?
In any event, we hadn’t enough transports or time to empty cities like New York. And evacuation would start with the influential Uppies; joeys such as Pedro Chang and his tribesmen would be forgotten.
Lord, let me do something. Given time, luck, weapons, I could kill fish. I’d nuked hundreds of them swarming around Orbit Station. I’d fought them in the Ventura Mountains, burned them with Wellington’s lasers. I’d even skewered one with Challenger’s prow in a desperate effort at revenge.
“—OVER THE MIDWESTERN UNITED STATES! ALL SHIPS, TRY TO BREAK UP THEIR FORMATION! EXPECT A LARGE GROUP WITH A ROCK TO DEFUSE AT ANY—”
I shut off the speaker.
An hour passed, perhaps more. I roused myself, sat staring, opened the desk drawer.
“I’m sorry,” Lieutenant Sleak had said to the holocamera, at Devon.
I understood, at last. When he’d uncovered Sergeant Serenco’s embezzlement, he blamed his own incompetence as a supervisor. He’d felt it his duty to prevent, or at least discover, Serenco’s misdeeds, and the shame had been too great to bear. And so he’d taken his pistol from the drawer.
Oh, yes, I understood.
There’s nothing left, you see. I have no way to defend my children, no way to draw the aliens away from Earth. I’ve no way to destroy them even if I could call them.
I’ve no way to atone.
I gripped the pistol, thumbed the safety. “I’m sorry.”
The empty office made no answer.
I set the pistol to point-blank range, pressed it to my temple. What else could I do? We couldn’t repel fish from an unarmed training camp. I had nothing but a base full of cadets, a transport too small to carry more than a handful to safety. And the Training Station, with Trafalgar and a few Fusers. All were unarmed. It was hopeless.
Unless ...
I sat bolt upright. After a time the pistol fell from my hand.
It could be done.
But, Lord, the cost.
PART 4
January, in the year of our Lord 2202
Chapter 22
I RUSHED TO THE head, splashed water on my cheeks, stared at the wild face in the mirror.
Back at my console, I opened the decompression hatches throughout the base. I keyed the alarm for General Quarters, thumbed my caller.
“ALL CADETS, ALL STAFF, ALL OFFICERS, ASSEMBLE AT THE MESS HALL, FLANK! TAKE NO MORE THAN ONE MINUTE TO DRESS!”
Ignoring my own orders, I straightened my tie, brushed my hair, smoothed my jacket. Before I left the office, I stooped, picked up the pistol.
During my long, last walk to the mess hall I practiced my calm. No one must suspect.
Edgar Tolliver sprinted down the corridor. “Have they come? What’s happened?”
“Not yet.” I slid open the mess-hall hatch.
“STAND TO!”
Officers and men, middies and cadets, snapped to attention. I holstered the pistol, strode through the crowd. Boys and girls stood stiffly, cheeks flushed, uniforms awry, hair uncombed. “At ease!”
They complied. For a moment I felt a wistful pride. I would have liked to take them to graduation, and beyond.
For a long time I gazed. Then I began.
“I’ve decided to take a number of cadets on special mission to the Training Station. You’ll be supervised by midshipmen. We leave immediately. Ordinarily I would select candidates based on skills and training, but there are reports that fish have been sighted in home system. Therefore,
I will take only volunteers.”
Absolute silence. Kina Obutu shook her head sadly. I blushed. As casually as possible I added, “There may be some danger. However, volunteers will receive credit for two months of Nav.” Somehow, despite the obscenity of what I’d said, I managed to hold their gaze.
A hand shot in the air, then another.
Tolliver moved to my side, puzzlement battling anger. I said quietly, “Be silent. That’s an order.”
I looked to the closest raised hand. “Step forward. Name?”
“Rafe Slater, sir.” His voice hadn’t yet broken.
I forced a reply. “Report to the suiting room.”
“Aye aye, sir. Excuse me, should I get my duffel?”
“No.” I nodded to the next upraised hand. “Name?”
“Vasily Karnyenkov.”
“Very well. Who else?”
A sharp tug at my jacket. Tolliver. “Where do you think you’re taking them?”
I thrust him away. “Next?”
“Jacques Theroux, sir.”
I frowned. “Your name’s familiar. How do I know you?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Report to the lock.” I looked around; only a few hands waved.
“You don’t even remember!” Tolliver’s words came in a hiss.
“I told you to be silent.”
“You threw another boy off at Cull, for Theroux.”
Did I? That was so long past. A damnation ago.
“Sergeant Ibarez!”
He hurried forward.
“Go to the lock, help the cadets suit up, send them to board the shuttle.”
“Aye aye, sir.” No questions.
I searched for more volunteers.
“Robert Boland, sir.”
“I know.” I stared through him. “Very wel—No. refused.” The others might be mere names, but I knew too well what the boy meant to his father.
“Sir, please!” His tone was anguished. “You told me I paid for my offense.”
“That’s not it; it’s that I don’t want you!” My voice was the harsher for knowing I was unjust.
He whispered, “Please, I’m first in my class in Nav! Let me go!”
I looked around the room. Cadets shifted uneasily from foot to foot, anxious to avoid my glance.
Fisherman's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 4) Page 44