Arms in the air, I called out loudly, but calmly, “Do not fire. I am Dr. Jon Ryan, the president's consultant. I'm here to speak with the president.”
An officer, white gloves and all, sped into the the lead and raised an arm. The guards stopped.
“Captain,” I said, again loudly but calmly, “I'd appreciate it if your men would lower their weapons. If I meant you any harm, I'd a'stayed inside the big spaceship, not walked out with my hands in the air.”
“Lower your weapons. Ma'am, please step out slowly, and …” the squad leader began to say.
“Now, I've seen everything,” shouted a voice from behind. It was Frank Payette. “Captain Delaney, have your troops stand down. These are old friends.”
The captain was clearly torn, at least briefly. I think his reasoning went something like this: Big alien spaceship, here, bad. POTUS, there, good. Guards in between the two, very good.
The phalanx of guards parted to let us pass. The president greeted us with a handshake at the top of the stairs. “Somebody yells there's a UFO on the lawn, and who else do I think of than other than you, Jon?”
“Well, Mr. President, I do like to make a flashy entry, from time to time.”
“Ah, Jon, I have a rule. Everyone who lands on my lawn in an alien spaceship calls me Frank.”
I released the president's hand. “Sounds like a reasonable rule, Frank.”
“Where'd you get that ship of yours?”
I angled my head toward Sachiko. “It's her ship, not mine. Better ask her. Oh, and I'll give you ten-to-one odds you can't get her to call you Frank, Frank.”
“I'm very persuasive, when I want to be,” he returned with a big grin directed at me.
Sachiko was just about to take Tank's odds, before she saw that grin.
“Frank,” Sachiko squeaked, uncertainly, “good to see you again.”
“Captain Jones, I'm looking forward to an interesting tale.”
“You, Frank, will not be disappointed,” she said, a little more normally. A little.
Downstairs, in the makeshift Situation Room, we addressed some old faces, and quite a few new ones. After introductions, I told the group exactly what happened. I was not interrupted once, and I don't think anyone even blinked. It was a pretty good story.
“So, assuming you four are not, in fact, evil, shapeshifting aliens,” began Frank, “where does this leave us? It sounds to me like there's a shitstorm heading our way, and we have one capable but solitary line of defense.”
“I think that's a fair assessment,” I replied, grimly. “If the enemy arrives in a long, strung-out line, maybe we stand a chance. But, that'd be piss poor strategy.”
“I assume you have some plan, then. Please lie to me, if need be, and say you do.”
“Nothing very firm, I'm afraid.” I shrugged.
“We're facing an unusual problem, here, Frank,” stated Tank. “Time war is nothing any of us have ever attempted to wage. To our enemy, it's old hat. That places us at an incredible disadvantage.”
He nodded, thoughtfully. “I'll bet. No course in it at West Point, last I heard. But, there's no alternative. We'll have to make do.” He thought a few moments. “How do we know the sons of bitches aren't already heading into Earth's past and destroying us before we even know why?”
“That's easy. Aramthella would alert us if they tried that. Time … time isn't like we used to think of it. There's no tick tock of a clock. It's … it's dynamic, it's vital … it's alive and ever changing. Somehow, we're going to need to get our heads around that fact, clearly, firmly, and quickly.”
“When the top scientific minds alive tell me there's a problem understanding a matter, it gives me great pause.” He sighed. “But,” he said, in a cheerier tone, “it's the hand we're dealt and we'll play it to win. Never let it be said the humans folded. Nope. We're too dumb to do that.”
A round of laughter erupted. This man was good. He knew when to crack the whip, and when to crack a joke.
“So, Captain Jones, what can I do to help you? The resources of the world stand at the ready.”
“We've given that some thought. We will need some basic supplies, field rations, coffee—lots of coffee—and personal hygiene items.”
“Done,” snapped Payette. He nodded to his chief of staff as he spoke. “I'll assume you'll need weapons, also. I'll have a variety brought for you to choose from. What else?”
“I would like to make something clear. While I command the space ship, Jon is in charge of the mission, as a whole. He has a lot more experience at this type of thing than I do.”
“Really, Jon? You've done this kind of thing before?” Payette asked, curious.
“A time or two, yes.” I scrunched up my face as I replied.
“If we weren't so pressed for time, I would have liked to discover what it is you've done.”
“That definitely would take longer than we can spare.” I smiled pleasantly.
“What else can I do to help? Would you like a detail from the Army? Maybe some special ops types?”
“I don't think so, Frank,” I replied.
“Oh really? Why's that?”
“Not my style. I like to travel kind of light.”
“But, surely you would need some support if you battle these monsters at close quarters.”
“Thanks, but no.” If Sapale and I couldn't handle a situation, having a dozen operatives with automatic weapons wasn't going to do the trick, either.
“Fine. Your call. Anything else?”
“Not for now. We need to get back aboard Aramthella and ready ourselves for the attack that will be coming, soon.”
“Then there's a favor I'd beg of you.”
“Sure,” I responded with reservations.
“I'd like you to take with you some small number of humans.”
“Okay, not a request you hear everyday. Why?”
“We're facing the complete extinction of life on Earth. I want to be certain there is some tiny spark of hope for humankind. That it will survive this crisis.”
“We can't really support a genetically balanced, highly vetted group of ride-alongs.”
“Jon, please,” he asked intently. “I just want for there to be hope. If we are facing the extinction of all life on Earth, the end of Earth itself, some provision must be made, some measures, however desperate, must be attempted, to try to preserve our species. Yes, we're not perfect. Yes, we squabble and fight too much,. But, I just happen to believe we are worthy of existence. Will you help the President of the United State save some fraction of humankind?”
Oh, my. Deja vous, all over again. That sounded awfully familiar.
“We are going after—actively pursuing—a force that should easily wipe us out. Yes, Earth is at risk, but you're asking me to take on non-essential personnel for a suicide mission.”
“I think it's quite likely we shall all be exterminated. What does it really matter where, exactly, the deed takes place?” He grinned grimly, and spread his arms toward me.
I got a very stern look on my face, but said nothing in reply.
“We could support maybe a hundred, but only if they can be selected and placed aboard ASAHP,” summarized Sapale. “We'll also need the basic equipment to keep them fed, clean, and entertained for possibly a long time. Military field equipment leaps to mind. Cots, MRE, chemical toilets, a small water recycling plant. It'd all have to be loaded yesterday.”
“Sapale,” Sachiko interjected, “Aramthella can perform many of those functions.”
“Yes, but we'll want redundant systems,” my wife reasoned. “What if she decides to no longer help us, or we need to abandon ship in favor of a remote planetary surface? We need the option of possible self-sufficiency.”
“I guess. If it can be arranged fast,” Sachiko replied.
“It will be. I'll place the calls, personally. People will move faster than greased lightning,” responded Payette.
“And who do we choose?” Sachiko asked gravely. �
��Who is selected for almost certain death, but is worthy of repopulating the human race?”
“Who indeed?” sighed the president.
“Young, bright, and diverse,” Sachiko suggested rapidly.
“Where does one—” the president stopped. The nearest college was … Georgetown. “Who here went to Georgetown,” he shouted to those in the cramped room.
Five hands went up. He pointed to one. “Where'd you live?”
“Er, McCarthy Hall, mostly.”
“Co-ed?”
“Yes. It is the twenty first century, sir.”
Frank spun on Jon. “I can have everyone presently in that building brought here, immediately. We can ask for volunteers once they're here. Everyone has five minutes to snag personal stuff. With a bunch of kids in space, we'll need condoms—”
Someone shouted, “You have got to be kidding me?”
Payette scolded at the speaker. “Birth control pills … go to the student health clinic and grab everything and everyone.”
The president stood. “Jane,” he pointed at a woman, “call the District PD. I want every unit at the Hoya's campus, immediately. Eddie,” he targeted a man, “Call the Medstar on campus, have them start scooping and running. Leslie,” he indicated one of the Secret Service agents, “Everybody on duty over there, now. Cindy,” he scanned the room. “Where the devil's Cindy Rush?”
“Here, Mr. P …”
“Cindy, call Andrews. Have them start helicoptering all the supplies and tell them to do it like their very lives depended on it.” He clapped his hands, loudly. “Go, go go,” he shouted. “If I didn't give you an assignment, help the ones I did. Let's move, people.”
The room exploded with activity.
I stood, unholstered my side arm, and fired three times into the ceiling. By the time the last chunks of plaster stopped falling, the room was as quiet as a grave, and everyone was seated. I was pretty much the focus of everyone's attention.
“We are not taking a dormitory full of pimply-faced kids on a suicide mission.” I scanned the room, like a lion taking stock of a heard for zebras. “Sapale and I have done this more times than a body should. It's what we do. Tank is a Marine. He knows the score, and he knows he's in this until the end. Sachiko is the captain. She has to come along, or we don't have a ride.” I studied the faces staring back at me, with an intensity no one but Sapale could even closely approximate.
“We four get it. We signed on, knowing full well what the risks were, and how dead we are likely to end up being. As commander, I can work with that. But, if you shove a few hundred kids more worried about getting laid than fighting aboard, the equation changes. My reasoning for each and every attack is changed from kill or be killed, to a little voice in the back of my head saying, But what about the kids? I'll be saying to myself, don't come in at that angle, you'll expose the kids. If I impulsively attack a superior force, I'd be second-guessing myself for putting the passengers at undue risk.
“No, we go, as we are—alone. Four warriors against the odds. If I'm charged with babysitting in space, instead of just trying to win, I'll end up being lousy at both. The best way to ensure those kids at Georgetown survive to face the next crisis (Jupiter, remember?) is for them to hunker dow right where they are.”
The president'd head slumped. “I wish there was some way to get some kids off the planet.”
“I'll tell you want I can do.”
Payette's head snapped up.
“In exchange for one tiny thing, what if I could shuttle a hundred kids at a time up to the newly vacated Mars 1 Base? The roundtrip, including on-load and offload, would be brief.”
“You'd use Aramthella?”
“Absolutely not. I'd call in that tiny favor.”
“Which would be?”
“Do not ask how I did it.”
That clearly troubled the bossman, but he quickly realized that his decision time was time not spent shuttling up as many Hoyas as he could.
He stuck out his hand. “You have yourself a deal. Where do they assemble?”
“There'll be two ramps onto Aramthella. People waiting patiently in front of one, supplies and material steaming up the other. Ah, you'll need a senior loadmaster to make this flow quickly.”
Frank furrows his brow. “But, I thought you said no passengers on Aramthella?”
“And there won't be any. Trust me, but please don't press me.”
I leaned into Sapale “Take Stingray from where we stashed her, and place her just out of site, between the A Ramp and the B Ramp.”
She nodded and sped away.
Within fifteen minutes, bedraggled looking teenagers and young adults, along with some scattered adults, began queuing up where instructed to. Even before that, forklifts were barreling up and down the B Ramp like ants at a picnic.
I took Tank and Sachiko by an elbow and led them to the bridge.
“Sapale'll shuttle as many to Mars as she can, based on the limits there'll be on supplies. She'll stop once the maximum number is reached, or we fall under attack.”
“You think Mars is far enough away to presume they're safe?” asked Tank.
“Not sure. But it's the farthest place that is ready to support a goodly number of humans. The asteroid bases are all too small, and the Moon's too damn close.”
“I agree,” replied Tank.
“Aramthella,” called out Sachiko, “any updates on the remaining clan ships?”
“Nothing firm, yet. The time master is interfacing with each body maker and its ship. So far, it has told the body makers of the fleet that it's certain something has happened to the clan of the ship that is me. It says it will be forced to capture or destroy us, soon.”
“How long do you guess we have?” I asked.
“I would be surprised if they waited longer than a few hours.”
“Where is the time maker's ship?” I asked.
“Unimaginably far away.”
“How long would it take us to get there?”
“Walking, or by public transit?” she snarked.
“I was thinking aboard you, at maximal velocity,” I replied through gritted teeth.
“Ah, thank you for being specific. Half an hour to arrive where its ship holds in space.
I switched to head-to-head. Sapale, how many kids are left to ferry over?
Maybe one hundred fifty. Why?
I want to try and blindside the time maker. Finish your current run, then park it on the ship and make sure only the four of us are aboard.
Roger that. See you in thirty.
A short while later, Sapale strode over to my side, kissed my cheek, and asked, “Ready to go annoy the hell out of someone else?”
“You bet,” I shot back.
“Sachiko, you said the ship had fifty functioning wormhole guns. They all working up to specs?”
“Yes. I just checked.”
“Okay, then, let's go introduce ourselves to the big bad time maker.”
The trip on Aramthella was, if anything, less spectacular then the incredibly smooth ride on Stingray. In no time at all, we were holding position ten light seconds on the far side of the time maker's ship, relative to Earth. I wanted to confuse him, if that was possible.
Per our prearranged plans, Sachiko gave the orders. “Lay a spread pattern Delta, centered on the time master's vessel. Fire for five seconds, then return us to our prior position on Earth.”
“As you wish, Captain. Firing has commenced.”
We launched around one hundred thousand rotating wormholes in that five second window. For us aboard ship, we didn't notice a thing. Again, a tragedy in terms of every hyper-cool scifi movie I'd ever seen, where the ship's weapons coughed fire and boomed to the high heavens. Oh, well. Then we sprinted back to Earth.
“The time maker's ship was moderately damaged. It, itself, was not harmed. It is, however, really pissed.”
“Is the craft space worthy?” I pressed.
“Hard to say. Wait, it screams to launch
toward us, immediately. But … oh my, I'm glad I'm not them. The clan refuses. The crews report to the time maker that insufficient hull breaches are sealed, as of yet. Travel would be very unsafe.”
“Nice shooting,” Sachiko complimented.
“Thank you, Captain.
“ETA to Earth?” she asked.
“Five more minutes.”
“Once we land, I want a full report on damage and response from our attack,” Sachiko requested.
“You will have it, ma'am.”
Then we waited. I could barely tell we touched down, the vibrations were so subtle.
“Status?” shouted Sachiko.
“All clan ships holding as before. The level of ship-to-ship chatter is greatly increased.”
“Sapale, you can resume your shuttle, but cut the transit by five minutes. I want you close if we need to book in a hurry.”
“Roger that.” She trotted away.
As Sachiko, Tank, and I stood watching the loading, Frank Payette walked up quietly. “I can't thank you all enough, for what hope you're giving the people of Earth.”
“Glad to help, as long as it—” I began to reply, vapidly.
“Captain,” Aramthella cut in, “Around half the clan fleet just launched. Destination, Earth. ETA, just over over thirty minutes for the lead elements. The remainder of the ships I track are either remaining with the stricken time master, or rapidly moving to join up with him.”
“Showtime,” I mumbled under my breath. “Sapale, abort transfers. Repeat abort transfers.” I turned to a nearby MP. “Clear the civilians from the area. Try and get them home.”
She snapped a salute and charged off.
Controlled chaos ensued. The loading team and the students ran, at a near panic, out of the building. The president grabbed a phone, probably to planetary defense control, and began to interact passionately with whomever was unlucky enough to be on the receiving end.
I lead Tank and Shaky onto Aramthella. Once aboard, I said to Sachiko, “Have Aramthella confirm we four are the only ones aboard. No mistakes, no stowaways, got it?”
She nodded and stepped away.
“Tank, make double certain everything that needs to be battened down is.”
Ryan Time Page 23
