"Don't worry. I'm not jumping."
"Not what I was worried about."
Kirkland stood next to the rock, close, but not invading that space where he knew the memory of Ben still sat, in Natalie's mind. There was a long silence between them, filled only with the random rising and falling white noise of the wind in the leafless trees all around them.
"You hated him."
Kirkland nodded sadly. "I did, at first, I am ashamed to admit. I resented him for taking Craig's place. But I was wrong, Natalie."
"So, now?"
"So, now, like everyone else I'm sorry he's gone. I'm sorry for him, for you of course, and for the ship."
"Really?"
Kirkland looked away in frustration. "Yes, Natalie, really."
Natalie nodded slowly, still looking out toward the Potomac.
"Well, it's OK, I guess. Maybe because you had no part in losing him."
"No, I didn't." There was another long silence. "We've known each other a long time, Natalie. I came here to be your friend. I know I can't undo what I said back before I knew what I was talking about."
She looked at him again and managed a small smile. "So, did you prepare that one or did it just come to you now?"
Kirkland took his eye off the scenery for the first time and met her eye. "I plead the fifth."
"Yeah, I thought so."
"I want to help, Natalie, I do, but I don't know how. I don't know what you might want or need —"
She snapped around to look at him.
"There's only one thing I need, Jimmy, and that is for Ben Price to be alive again and right here next to me where he belongs."
Kirkland just nodded. There wasn't much that he could say to that.
"Yes, I understand," he finally managed.
They waited silently as a small group, which seemed to be two couples, walked past chattering among themselves about the view and the cold.
"How did Henderson know I'd be here?"
"Not sure. I guess Ben told her about the place. She knew it was important to him. A touchstone for him."
"That's a good word for it. Touchstone."
"If you'd rather be alone, I'll go. I don't want to be an intrusion. Like I said, I just thought you shouldn't be alone."
"Well, mister Senior Lieutenant Kirkland, I'm going to be alone now for quite some time. Might as well get used to it." She said this looking out at the countryside, not at him, her tone resigned and sad.
"OK, then, I will see you back on the ship tonight?"
"No. Tomorrow, maybe. I can't say for sure."
"I'm sorry, Natalie. For what happened to Ben and for what I once thought. But I wish you'd let me stay."
"It really is OK, Jimmy, really. I understand how you felt. But I need time, and I need it with myself."
"As you wish."
"And, Jim, thanks for thinking of me. Thanks for making the climb. Tell Henderson she should see it for herself."
"Yes, maybe she should. She has her own loss to process."
"Process," she spat, "What a damnable shitty word to apply to the loss of someone you love."
"Yes, I see what you mean. Goodbye, Nat."
"Don't worry, Jim. I'll be fine."
She remained there another two hours, silently categorizing her days with Ben, trying to squeeze out every moment, every detail so that she would remember it clearly. She also wrestled with her alternate futures; what choices she had and which she thought would bring her some measure of satisfaction, some kind of fulfillment. Even with Ben gone, as Mila had told her, she still had a life to manage, and before long she would have to be making choices about what that life would be. She could try to just go back to her life before Ben, and be that hard-working all-business no-bullshit officer she'd once happily been. Problem was, Ben Price had effortlessly pried open a part of her that could not be re-closed, and that former person just wasn't her anymore.
But, for the moment, she had a job and there was a war and that was pretty much that. Later, she thought to herself, when I have more time, later will be more difficult.
It was late afternoon when she pulled herself off the ledge and walked down the trail to the ASV. The car requested a destination, and as Natalie sat trying to decide, she realized she was fingering her small, delicate cross, the gift of Mila Price. At that moment she decided to accept a tear-rimmed invitation she had earlier declined. She gave the car the address, and within 30 minutes she was again standing on the little wrought iron porch as the door quickly swung wide and open arms reached out for her.
Columbia
Earth Orbit
Monday, January 15, 2079, 1030 UTC
Admiral Kieran Barker, a man still unaccustomed to answering to that rank, came aboard his flagship for the first time, officially. LCDR Dan Smith and his new XO SLT Maz Dawes greeted him at the airlock. He was followed aboard by his deputy, Harry Hess, Intel chief Elias Peña, and then a succession of techs and officers who comprised his staff. They headed down to their newly installed quarters on the lower level while Barker, Hess, Peña, and the Columbia officers headed for the wardroom.
Once seated, Barker took the lead. "Good morning, all, again. We’ll be leaving for Beta Hydri as soon as you're ready, Commander Smith. Ceres will come in about two weeks, but I want to get down there right away."
"I expected as much, Admiral. We can leave as soon as the Fleet Shuttle is off, sir. Columbia is ready to depart right now."
"Good, Commander, very good."
"Eagle and Friendship have been watching Big Blue since Intrepid left, and they'll be released when we get there. There will be others arriving to take their place."
"Who will that be, sir?"
"Well, Henderson is just back, really, so I'm tapping Terri Michael and her crew for their third trip."
"I take it she didn't argue?"
"No, not at all. I think they've started to think of Big Blue as a second home! Besides, they can carry more Marines than anyone except Intrepid, and I want a ground force available."
"I see."
"I'm working with Cook to get a couple frigates scheduled in, but they're still working on the search, so it may be a few days before they decide who we can have. We'll see if Yakovlev needs Henderson – I would not mind at all having both those ships at Beta Hydri."
"It would sure give us a solid option for a ground engagement."
Elias spoke up. "We know there are still something like fifty enemy alive on Big Blue, left behind when Intrepid smoked their ships. We figure they're foraging the countryside to stay alive, hoping for a rescue. We may want to see if we can get one."
"Alive? Really?"
Elias shrugged. "It's worth a try."
"OK, sir."
"You're skeptical?" Barker asked.
"Oh, yes, sir. I sure am."
"Good. Keep being skeptical. But we'll see if we can pull it off."
"OK, sir. We'll see."
In less than an hour, Columbia was on her way to Beta Hydri, a trip of almost twenty-two days. Dan smiled at the prospect of seeing Carol again so soon, but his thoughts were mainly of his new wife, Linda, and their plans for their future. He was also thinking about David, already headed for deep space on Cobra. It was a dangerous mission, going all the way to what they thought was the enemy homeworld, but he could think of no better ship and no better crew to carry it out.
Meantime, he thought, I got my own problems to deal with.
Brass.
Central Council Chambers
The Preeminent Home World
Earth Equivalent Date: January 17, 2079
Ashil Kiker felt an emotion he had never experienced before. He was nervous.
Scad Nee Wok had submitted to the Council a complete report on their encounter with the Vermin at System 201. During the long trip to Homeworld, Wok had directed an analysis of everything they had seen, with a complete timeline: events, discussions, and disagreements.
Kiker believed it was designed to cast him as the
incompetent, and as the Council heard from Wok, Kiker angrily challenged each conclusion.
"These are disturbing developments," the Respected Second intoned. "We have now lost far too many ships and Preeminent lives to these Vermin. The time for proactive steps has come."
"And what of Wok's indictment of me?" Kiker demanded.
"You, Ashil Kiker, should be grateful that Ship Commander Wok was well reasoned and made a precise argument for his position. Had he been less rigorous, you would be in a difficult position."
Kiker was humbled, but he might live. "Yes, Respected Second," he answered quietly.
"As it is, we shall thank Scad Nee Wok for his efforts and move on."
Wok bowed slightly, threw a side-glance at Kiker, and ambled out of the Council Chamber. He'd made his point to the Council but had deliberately avoided getting Kiker killed. He might need to cash in that favor someday.
Before each Council member was a recitation of their encounters with the Vermin. It began with Hess Tae Sim and the Deists in System 352. Two cohorts of Combatants and three ships lost to a single Vermin vessel.
Then, the loss of one vessel in an encounter with several Vermin at System 572.
Their one clear victory had come at System 155. They had tracked a Vermin ship to its destination and then crushed it with a massive attack.
In the final test of the tracking system, they'd destroyed another Vermin ship at System 253, but lost three more ships in the process. Then, soon after this victory, the tracking system failed. The Vermin had apparently discovered their technique. They were despicably smart.
All these and the loss of three observation stations disturbed the council. The rate of attrition was not unsupportable, but it was unprecedented.
Most recently, they had dispatched four ships to investigate what the Vermin were doing at system 849. After several rotations of exploration, all four ships and the monitoring station were lost. The transmission from the last ship to be struck reported no enemy contact, but believed there to be many present, as the attacks on the other three appeared to come from different directions. There may yet be Combatants on the surface, but without communications, they could not be sure.
After this painful recapitulation, the Revered First entered the Council Chamber and took his place at the head of the table.
"The time has come to deal with the Vermin decisively. Scad Nee Wok and Kiker have given us their location. We will attack. We will prevail. We are the Preeminent. We will strike the Deists, too, for we know the Vermin defend them. There is something on the stubborn Scholars planet that the Vermin do not want us to find. There is no other reason they should remain there and oppose our presence as violently as they do. We shall learn what that is."
The Council licked their pitted, dark-stained teeth in agreement, peeling back the skin at the sides of their mouths to reveal their incisors for emphasis.
"The forces will be assembled, then we will strike them everywhere at once. Their ships are faster than ours, but that will become an irrelevance in a single moment. We will suddenly be in all the places they protect at once. They cannot withstand such an attack. They will be defeated."
The Respected Second stood to ask his question. "There are billions of them, Revered First. How shall we bring such a population to obsequia?"
"We will not," The Revered First said dismissively, "give them such an opportunity. I care not for their filthy masses. I care only that they are neutralized."
"But we are the Preeminent. It is our right—"
"It is our right to choose what we do, Respected Second. And we choose to leave them to their worthless cesspool and find more useful species elsewhere. They will learn to leave us alone. That is enough."
Had Ashil Kiker been even slightly self-conscious, had only a hint of objectivity, or been capable of even minimal critical self-examination, he would have recognized this statement as the transparent rationalization it was. But Kiker was a Preeminent, and if they chose not to do something, then that choice was correct.
"The recall has already gone out. We will gather ourselves here first, then we will proceed to these three systems and put an end to this annoyance."
ISC Fleet HQ Intel Section
Ft. Eustis, VA
Friday, January 20, 2079, 0900 EST
Frances, Don, and Kristin looked at the intercept location report carefully. Several Sentinels had seen the signal, as had all four regular monitoring stations. It was long — thirty seconds — and clearly originated at Alpha Mensae. It was SLIP channel 76, which they had tentatively identified as a headquarters source based on its pattern of activity. Based on when and where it was detected, they could tell it had been sent the morning of January 17th.
Roger Cox joined them, standing in the doorway of Frances' small office as he held the same report.
"So, what do we think this means?" Frances asked.
"We've never seen anything this long," Roger observed.
"We've never seen anything one-tenth this long!" Don agreed.
"No responses, either," Kristin Hayes observed.
"Yeah. Here are your orders. Just go do them and keep quiet about it."
"Seems logical, Roger, but it doesn't tell us what they're doing."
Frances looked up at Roger. "Our estimate is that the ship that was here on December 5th could have made it back to Alpha Mensae when?"
"If they went direct, something like January 12 or 13." Roger flipped to a different screen on his tablet. "Hard to be sure, but it could not be before the 12th."
"Right, OK, so if they went straight home, no stopping, and got there on January 12th or 13th, a major order on the 17th is no surprise."
Don looked up from the report. "I agree, except, I don't think this reaction took four days to formulate."
At their regular 10 AM Table meeting, the enemy signals team presented the results of the intercept and their initial opinions. The staff had been reduced by a few — Elias Peña, Rich Evans, and Tim Jackson were gone — but also enhanced with the presence of Susan Scranton and Joe Bowles. Scranton, now fully understanding the resources around her, had become a forceful and constructive member of the group. She allowed her formerly hidden sense of humor to emerge, much to the surprise of her colleagues. Once Joe Bowles found himself on the inside of the Intel establishment, he had no desire to leave and Ron Harris found a place for him with Scranton in Exo-Biology. Joe's one condition was his frequent days off for grandchild duty. Ron gladly obliged, knowing how much it meant to Joe.
Bowles's experience as an Army pathologist had returned huge dividends as he and Susan dissected the three enemy bodies Intrepid had brought back from Big Blue. They were Terran for sure, likely a lost offshoot of some relation of velociraptor or other dromaeosaurid. They could not tell how long ago they split from the main evolutionary line, but it was easily tens of millions of years. Why and how they got to Alpha Mensae, no one could say. They were meat eaters, for sure, their last meal being some other kind of Terran animal, likely a prey species that they had taken with them. That species' DNA didn't map to anything either, which left Susan and Joe with no further to go. Whatever it was, there were no living relatives to compare it to.
The most important conclusion they delivered was that they were not any kind of super-aliens. They breathed the same air, ate food, and could be killed just as easily as any Terran species. They were intelligent, yes, but nothing in their brains made them seem any smarter than humans.
The Weapons division was also dissecting the enemy weapons, trying to understand how they worked and how they might be defended against. So far, they had been unable to get inside without a small explosion, nor could they make them fire on demand. Whatever the key was, they still hadn’t found it.
The conversation over The Big Message went on for some time. There could be no deciphering it, so any conclusions had to be made based on traffic analysis, timing, and context. All of which added up to nothing conclusive.
"Still," R
on said as he looked around the room, "we should notify Cobra. They may see something that gives some meaning to this."
Ann Cooper nodded. "Yes, sir, and we should get with Ops and Plans and see what we can do to beef up our defenses."
"I agree with you that this is a fleet-wide message. And it's interesting that there are no responses."
"That, sir," Don said, "tells me that headquarters doesn't need to know their position and status. They either already know or it doesn't matter."
Ron shifted in his chair. "I will talk to CINC and bring him up to speed. Something is definitely up, and we need to be prepared."
Ron sent The Big Message analysis to CINC and Ops and Kieran Barker. He suggested that they meet later that same day to discuss what actions CINC might want to take.
"There's nothing definitive in this, Ron." Davenport stroked his chin as he stood looking out the large windows in his office, his back to Ron, Frances, and Ann.
"That's true, sir, but it's the best conclusion we can make."
"It's pretty thin."
Frances gave Ron a frustrated look, then looked hard at CINC. "It's not as thin as you may think, sir. We've been watching their communications for more than six months. They send messages, they get responses. Normal command behavior."
"Always?" CINC asked as he turned back to face them.
"No, sir, not always. But, usually. We've never seen anything this long, Admiral. That alone makes it unique, and in our business, unique means dangerous."
"I just don't see —"
"Don't be a damn fool, Connor," Frances said sharply. Ron and Ann both looked at her with surprise.
"Listen to us, Connor, for Christ's sake, just listen to us."
"Mrs. Wilson, I will thank you —"
"Oh, Connor, shut up. I've been at this since you were a skinny ensign on loan to NSA for training."
CINC looked at her for several seconds, his expression going slowly from offense to acceptance. He came back to the desk and sat, and when he spoke, his tone carried his full surrender.
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