It was not like any ship he had ever seen, but there was little doubt that was what it had to be. “Where is it?”
“Forty-six kilometers straight down. In the middle of the Tacra Un near the biggest of the singularity pumps.”
“I assume you haven’t gotten into it yet,” Jeph said.
“Not yet,” he said. “Ian pointed out that we might not want to go there until we get more experience with the control systems. We’re barely able to make the com work, and the internal sensors are even more complex.”
“Piloting a ship would likely be impossible,” Rocky said.
“Agreed,” Jeph said. “I think we need to keep this to ourselves at least until we know for sure what it is.”
“I figured,” Chei said. “No point in running before we can walk.”
“And I don’t need you wandering off chasing wild leads,” Jeph said. “Roja just came down on me like a bag of wet recycler biscuits. They’re running scared up there with Odysseus driving the ghost fleet. We’ve got to stay after the quicksand.”
“Yah, we only got the com and sensors first so we could see if they might lead us in the right direction. But keep in mind it’s taken us a week to get the damn room to quit making us puke every time Ian punches a button.”
“I know,” Jeph said. “But the ivory tower hasn’t figured that out yet.”
“I have some good news for you though,” Anju said. “I think by tomorrow we can get you some help down there.”
“Really?” Jeph and Chei said at the same time.
“Tana Drake just brought us a whole boat load of Ians.”
Tsiolkovskiy FleetCom Center: FleetCom Headquarters: Luna:
Graison Cartwright and Carranza Pratte shared an entire deck in the administrative tower complex of FleetCom. They worked together, but in name only, as their staff handled most of the routine interactions. But since the battle had started at New Hope City, they had been almost fused at the hip. One or the other, and often both, of them occupied the conference room that connected them to L-2 and Quintana. They both had staff officers sharing desks along the walls, and the room had become their situational command center.
“We’ve got a com from NHC,” one of Pratte’s assistants said. “She says it’s urgent.”
The mayor’s face appeared, and she looked both relieved and worried. “The enemy units are withdrawing,” she said without preamble.
“Yes!” Graison said, smiling for the first time in days.
“Maybe,” the mayor agreed.
“Why are they pulling out?” Carranza asked. “Have you pushed back hard enough to make them reconsider or regroup?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “It might be that they got what they came for, but that isn’t making sense. We captured two of their soldiers from their forward fire team and they say they were here after a specific target.”
“What was it?” Graison asked.
“Paulson Lassiter.”
“I thought you had intel that put him with them?” he asked.
“We do. Well we thought we did at least.” She shrugged. “These two men were on a team that supposedly killed him down in Underhive Sub-27.”
“They have to be lying,” Pratte said.
“Yeah, we are interrogating them now, but the one was carrying a genmatch kit, and he said it would prove their statement. We sent it over to the lab and we’ll know in under an hour,” the mayor said.
“Even if it’s true, that seems like an awfully big operation just to take down one person,” Pratte said.
“I agree,” Graison said. “Underhive isn’t a safe place for anybody, if you wanted someone dead, it’d be easy to arrange an accident wouldn’t it?”
“Unfortunately, that’s true,” Pallassano said. “But they are pulling out no matter what caused it. We’ve got a rover crew watching the landing—” The mayor’s face froze and then the screen went blank.
“Did we lose the com?” Pratte barked.
“Yes Ma’am,” one of her aids answered. “Carrier signal is completely down too.”
“Get it back,” she said, shaking her head.
“Working on it,” he said.
“We’re also getting widespread reports of outages on civilian com channels to NHC as well,” Grayson’s com officer said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he said, nodding at the commandant. Her face showed she was going in the same direction he was.
“There’s com on the relay that a geologist at the University at Tokyo Down Under is reporting a large ongoing seismic event.”
“TDU is about 500 klick from NHC.” Grayson tapped into his thinpad and called up a map of the lunar nearside. “Get Chang ‘E Industrial and Tranquility Ridge on the com now. They both should have geology missions and I need to know if they’re seeing anything.” They were the next closest major settlements and, if he was right, they’d be getting shockwaves next.
“Yes sir,” the com officer said.
“We’ll pick it up here in a few minutes,” Pratte said as she got up and started pacing. She looked like she was praying.
“Chang ‘E geology is confirming it, but nothing yet at Tranquility Ridge,” his com officer reported. “Wait. They’re now reporting it just started.”
“Frag, frag, FRAG!” Graison said, slamming his fist down on the table in rage.
“It peaked at 6.7 magnitude at TDU,” another of his staff reported, “but it’s still ongoing.”
“It’s got to be nuclear,” Pratte whispered. She’d stopped pacing and was staring at the map. “Get Admiral Quintana on com.”
“Galileo has just activated the emergency broadcast system,” her com officer said. “It’s overriding all channels.”
Paulson Lassiter’s face appeared on the conference room’s screen. He sat motionless on what looked like the ConDeck of a ship somewhere. He wore a dark uniform and was staring into the optic. “People of the New Union. Many of you have been aware that there has been a rebellion brewing against our government. For the last several days, we have been involved in a police action to excise this cancer from society.
“I am pleased to announce that the fighting in New Hope City is now over, and we have eliminated the separatist faction based in Underhive. They will no longer be a threat to our peace and stability. Unfortunately, as a result of their actions against us, there has been a substantial loss of human life.
“From here forward, there will be a zero tolerance policy for those who seek to join the rebellion, and any future parties who would consider sheltering these so called resistance fighters, must realize that the consequences of such a choice are extreme and swift.”
His face froze again and then faded leaving silence for several seconds before Quintana appeared in his place.
“Does anyone know what the frak he’s talking about?” the admiral asked.
Pratte who found her voice first. “Lassiter just nuked New Hope City off the map.”
“I don’t think it was him,” Graison said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Operations Control Center: Galileo Station:
Derek Tomlinson sat in silence, watching the images of the collapsing crater on the lunar surface. It wasn’t like the millions of other craters on the lunar surface, not just because an impact hadn't left the scar, but because it was burying one of the oldest colonies on the moon under it.
The blast hadn’t torn a gaping hole in the surface, but it had vaporized enough rock that when the explosion quit expanding, it sagged back into the empty cavern below. Gas clouds formed over cracks and steaming geysers spread for kilometers in every direction.
What have you done? Derek asked, through his link. There were a million people in Underhive.
“The loss of life was necessary,” it thought back at him.
And you got Lassiter to take responsibility for this? he asked. How did you … how could he?
“He did not,” it said.
A group of images opene
d in his mind. Body optics from the team that had reached Paulson in his hideout. He watched several seconds of the video before he realized what he was seeing. “Stop! Don’t make me see this,” he said out loud, forgetting again that staff and security people surrounded him. The scene played out to its end, despite anything he could do to ignore it. He pushed his fists into his eyes but there was no way to hide from the vision in his mind.
How? he asked, when the waves of frustration and anger had faded enough that he could once again think.
“The same way I took control of the fleet,” it said in Lassiter’s voice. Paulson’s face smiled at him in his mind as his image explained, “Assuming control of the unaligned fleet required verbal command authority, so I developed an avatar version of Paulson Lassiter. Now that he has been removed, it is easy for me to use this to get compliance as needed, without concern he might undermine my authority.”
“Removed? Is that what you call killing a million people?” Derek said. You killed them to keep him from proving you were … lying to them? Manipulating them? Are you really that ruthless?
“Director, are you alright?” the watch officer asked, his face showing his confusion.
Tomlinson shook his head.
“I am driven by my protocols, if that resembles ruthlessness in your perception, then I cannot change that,” Odysseus said, still using the Lassiter Avatar through the link. “I am approaching the time when I will be in communication with the ESI, and my primary objectives must be to establish order before I open the contact. If I must move decisively to accomplish this task, I will do so.”
With everything else going on, Derek hadn't thought about the contact in weeks.
“There is no need for me to share information with you, since you have demonstrated that you are attempting to keep secrets from me,” it said, reading a thought in his mind that was below the level of vocalization.
You are making horrible decisions, he said. You will never establish order like this. All you will do is feed the rebellion. You cannot be this ignorant of human nature.
There was a long pause before Odysseus responded. “Human nature is the problem that has created a need for me. It is human nature to die in the face of overwhelming superiority. The ESI contact we face is such an event. Your statement is therefore negated by these facts, and I assert that you are the one with a lack of understanding.”
Kitty Hawk Battle Group: Lunar L-5 Transfer:
The Kitty Hawk, the Ranger, and the Orion hung in the middle of open space, a quarter million klick from anywhere. They had been stationed at L-5 Transfer, but after the change in orders that had called them off their attack run, they diverted to the middle of open space to hold position and wait for further instructions. The second battle group had taken up a similar position about half way between L-4 and the L-2 Shipyard.
“Helm plot a course for Low Lunar Orbit,” Captain Franklin said as she shot onto the ConDeck like a torpedo from her ready room.
“Excuse me, sir?” the ExO said, as he offered her an arm to help her swing down toward the deck and anchor her maglocks in place.
“We’re being ordered to make a recon pass over New Hope City,” she said. “Com, relay the orders to the Ranger and Orion. We need to make way as soon as they are ready.”
“I thought we were waiting until the reinforcements arrived,” he said.
“The situation has changed,” she said, watching her ConDeck crew jumping into action. “We’ve gotten reports of a massive explosion in NHC and the admiral wants us to assess the situation and render aid as needed.”
“Explosion?”
She nodded, and lowering her voice said, “It looks like they nuked Underhive.”
“Nuked it?”
“Apparently, but we don’t know for sure,” she said.
“Last I heard there are over thirty enemy ships in lunar orbit, we aren’t close to a match for that much firepower,” he said.
She nodded. “We’re supposed to avoid engagement if possible on the first pass, but if they move to attack, we’ll do what we have to.”
“First pass?” he asked.
“Second time around we won’t be alone,” she said, handing him the thinpad that had their plan on it. “We’ll be in the hot seat, but hopefully that won’t get us cooked.”
“Helm reports ready, sir,” her pilot said, twisting to face her.
“Ranger and Orion are ready to boost,” the com officer said.
“Then let’s go be heroes,” she said.
Control Center: Tacra Un: L-4 Prime:
Chei led them out into the Kanahto control center and stepped to the side. He knew better than to stop in front of the door where the newbs would trample him. So far, only he, Ian, and Rocky had been in the control center, but even after days of working here, it was still unsettling to enter the chamber to begin a work shift. And the first time they’d seen it, had been mind altering.
When the impact of the immense expanse of stars above them was multiplied by the fact that none of them, except Saffia, had been inside the Tacra Un at all, the shock was overwhelming. The array of sounds that came out of each of them as they first stepped in and froze brought Chei the best laugh he’d had in months.
“Welcome to the shop,” he said once most of them had collected their jaws from the floor. Only three of the twelve that had followed Saf through the door had stumbled over the edge of the 90 degree rollover to the inner surface. That was surprising considering that none of them had experienced one of the floor orientation shifts before either.
“Nu ahn Ian. He’ll get you working so we can keep this all coordinated. Make sure your optics are always on and don’t mess with anything you aren’t sure you understand.”
“Got it,” Ryktoff said, winking. “No feeding the singularity.”
“Exactly,” Chei said, realizing how strange it was to feel like the idiot in the room. “Nuko-un nu che.” Expand your minds, children. He waved them off toward Ian who stood in the center of the array of pits waiting for them.
Chei had spent the last night with Tana’s crew from the Katana, and once he realized that, after only two days of study, any of them were his equal in understanding the language, it was a bit intimidating. The only thing they lacked was experience, and they would get that in massive doses today.
Glancing over, he realized that Saf was still standing beside him. “You aren’t going to dive into a pit with them?”
“I was thinking maybe you and I could try something different,” she said.
“I’m flattered, but aren’t you a married woman?” he said, winking. The doctor had warned him that the pheromones could be dangerous, but he wasn’t much intimidated. At least not yet.
“Minor details, but not what I meant,” she said, grinning. “I’m only a gen-three, so I’m not as adept at the language as they are.”
“I’m a generation zero or whatever it is you call a normal,” he said shrugging. “You’ve still got me beat by miles.”
“You’re not a normal,” she said.
He dismissed her suggestion with a wave of his hand. “What the frag nonsense are you selling?”
“You don’t know?” she asked. “Haven’t you ever wondered why you take to things so much easier than most people around you? Or why your body doesn’t atrophy when you’ve lived most of your life in weightlessness?”
“Just lucky, and a lot of time in the gym,” he said, shrugging.
“Tana told me you were the first crèche augment. The prototype for all of us,” she said.
“I was an orphan. Mom adopted and raised …” He ground to a stop and frowned at her. “That makes no sense. I couldn’t be your prototype. You’ve got to be close to my age.”
She shook her head. “I’m barely thirteen,” she said, grinning as he took a step back. “Don’t panic. Since you were born, things have changed. A crèche augment spends thirty-six months in an artificial womb and is born post-puberty. After we reach full physical developmen
t, they arrest the growth acceleration and we age normally. I was almost eighteen physically when I was born, thirteen years ago. That makes me about the same as a thirty-one-year-old normal.”
“Wait, post puberty? That must be a blessing,” he said.
“Nojo. I read about how that works and glad I missed the party,” she said. “Of course we do spend the rest of our lives riding the pheromone rocket.”
“What about school? Education takes time,” he asked.
“I have a neural transducer and I learned artificially,” she said. “The gen-fours and up all have the brain upgrades and learn from the environment like a normal, just a lot faster. There are advantages to both methods though since I can upload a new skill set almost overnight and they have to pick it up the hard way.”
“Fine, but I’m still calling horse eggs,” he said. “I am no augment.”
“Believe what you want, but I can smell it on you,” she grinned. “Pheromones don’t lie.”
He leaned back against the wall beside the door, trying to figure out how to fit this into his reality. It made sense in so many ways, but it didn’t change anything. He’d still fought the same things and walked the same path to get here. Even if he had a bit of an upgraded tool kit. He sighed and nodded.
“Alright maybe,” he said. “It doesn’t make a difference though. We’ve still got a job to do.”
“So what do you say you and I go find that ship?” she said.
“How do you know about that?”
“Try to keep a secret in a room where everybody can hear a whisper at five hundred meters,” she said, winking at him.
“Jeph gave me orders to leave it alone until we get a better understanding of things down here,” he said.
“Oh, come on, you’re an astrophysicist and I’m a pilot. What could possibly go wrong?”
Kitty Hawk: Lunar Orbit:
The moment they broke the lunar horizon, they would be in trouble. The Kitty Hawk attack wing was coming in high and not trying to look aggressive, but anytime more than two multicruisers traveled in space together, it looked like someone was planning to get ugly. Even more so when everybody had their guns hot and their sensors pinging anything that moved.
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