“By turning a good portion of their planet into radioactive wasteland.”
Rojek smiled, then said, “I can make an argument that in the long term, it’s probably not the worst thing that could happen to them. You were right, in the meeting. Sooner or later a better resource site will be found. Atlantis has a host of problems attached, and even the Belters must be regretting taking it on at some level. Give it two, three decades, and their economy will fall apart. If they’re not ready for it, the smash is far worse than it will be now. Like what happened to the Oil States on Earth, when the oil ran out.”
“That’s just a way to…”
“It’s a way to make me feel better about what we’re going to do, yes. A way to, at least to some degree, justify our actions today.” He looked down at the planet, then said, “Conditions in the mines weren’t going to improve any time soon, anyway. No new equipment, no new financing. The new leaders, whoever they were working for, were always going to send their citizens back into the same nightmare again, as a matter of necessity. Not the happiest thought, I know, but in all likelihood, that’s how it would have worked out. We’re sparing them that much.” He turned to Corrigan, and said, “For better or for worse, you’re in command. This is a decision you’re going to have to live with.”
“That really doesn’t help, Clyde.”
“It isn’t meant to.” Putting his hand on his old friend’s shoulder, he added, “This is the job you signed up for, the one you wanted to do. Nobody told you what it could end up costing, I guess. It sucks out your soul. War does that. I’ve done things in my career that I’m not proud of, but I know that they are necessary, that they had to be. And each time, I didn’t take anyone else’s word for it. I made the decision for myself.”
“It’s not that,” Corrigan said. “I know that being in command means that I have to make the tough decisions. I can accept that. I just resent that I’ve been forced into making it.” A star raced away from Avenger, and he said, “That’s the last of them. The network should be up and running in half an hour. I just hope it’s soon enough.”
“We’ll find a way to make it right, when the war’s over,” Rojek said. “There are other alternatives. It’s a long-standing colony on a world that at least in theory could be made inhabitable. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be terraformed.”
“This far out?” Corrigan replied. “You’re dreaming, Clyde. They’ve been working on Mars for centuries, and they’re still centuries more away from a world where you can breathe the air…”
“Maybe it’s a dream worth exploring,” Rojek said with a smile. “Hell, if it can make its independence stick, then a neutral port is always worth having. Both sides can make use of it, and it’s close to the frontier, close enough that ships might go out one day and see just what they can find. Atlantis might not be the destination, but it could be the trading post along the way.”
With a wry smile, Corrigan said, “That’s what I always signed up for, you know. To go out there and see what there is to find. That’s why I pushed so hard for command, for the Interstellar Squadron. I figured we’d end up exploring again one day, and I’d push like hell for the command, to be the one to lead a ship out among the stars.”
“Do it,” Rojek said.
“There’s a war on,” Corrigan replied.
“Not now,” Rojek said, “as tempting as it might be, but as soon as the war’s over, load up as many supplies as you can, and head out. This ship is perfect for a mission like that. She’s still freighter enough that you could carry everything you’d need for an extended voyage, and there are enough depots hidden throughout space to top up when you wanted. Most of the crew would be happy enough with the idea.”
“Fleet…”
“Won’t say a word. This is a secret mission. Off the books. Hell, based on their usual performance, I’d strongly recommend you think about disappearing as soon as this is over. There’s no guarantee that they won’t throw you right back into detention. You want some free advice? Don’t give them the chance.” With a smile, he added, “You never know, I might even come along for the ride.”
Before Corrigan could reply, the overhead speaker barked, “Bridge to Corrigan. We’re picking up some early signs of dimensional instability, about thirty thousand miles out. Sensors indicate a warp transit in progress. Estimate fifteen, twenty minutes before we have company.”
“They’re early,” Corrigan said. “We haven’t finished setting the table for the party.” Tapping a control, he said, “This is the Commander. Battle stations. Battle stations. This is no drill. I repeat, this is no drill.” Turning to Rojek, he said, “See if you can hustle Crawford and Dixon. We’ve got to get that network in place, and we’ve got to do it now. We’re out of time.”
Chapter 23
“Christ,” Clarke said, looking up at a red light flashing on the truck’s control panel. “You guys want the good news or the bad news?”
“The good news, by all means,” Carter replied.
“I don’t think we’re going to have any trouble at the roadblocks, and I don’t think the rebels are going to send anyone after us. That’s also the bad news.” Gesturing at the light, he added, “That’s a Planetary Defense Alert. Same set up as the Belters used. We suborned it last night. That means that enemy forces are entering orbit.” Glaring at Falco, he added, “An hour earlier than you said.”
“Oddly enough, I haven’t had any tactical updates lately,” the Belter replied. “I’m not surprised, though. They knew you were getting an orbital defense network, and they’ll have wanted to move as fast as they could to strike before you could get it operational.” She paused, then added, “And they’re going to succeed, I suspect.”
“If Dixon and Crawford are working on it,” Carter said, “I wouldn’t bet the farm on that. By now they’ll probably have it working, even if they haven’t finished calibration yet.” She paused, looked at Falco, and said, “Does this change anything for you?”
“Not a thing. They’ll use the people they’ve captured as a weapon, and based on what happened at the orbital platform, I’m certain they’ll make use of them. I cannot permit that to take place. They’re a lot safer in orbit. Besides, one more fighter pilot isn’t going to make any difference up there. I just might, down here. And you?”
“We’ve got a mission to complete,” Carter said. “One that we both agree has to succeed. We get this done, we get the civilians to safety, and after that, we can start fighting again. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“If you’ve quite finished,” Clarke replied, “I can see Plato City now. About three miles to go. The stadium is on the outskirts. Out of sheer curiosity, have either of you come up with something resembling a plan?”
“You’re the terrorist,” Falco snapped. “I’d have thought…”
“Freedom fighter, thank you, and until a few weeks ago, I was a mining engineer. I still hope to be one in the near future. All of this is new to me. I thought the two of you had the…”
“Relax,” Falco said. “I’ve got this covered.”
“I’m listening,” the rebel replied.
“I’ll drop the two of you off at the stadium. You sneak inside, disable the alarm system and deal with the guards, and I’ll make for the spaceport and steal a shuttle. I can land right alongside, load everyone up, and blast for orbit. If we get it right, nobody will stop us in time.”
“You expect us to let you just drive off and leave us behind?” Clarke objected. “What guarantees do we have that…”
“I have precisely the same guarantees that I have regarding the two of you,” she snapped. “You’ve left it just a little bit late to decide that you don’t want to trust me, but if that is really how you want to play this, I suggest we all get out here and now and give up on this whole idea.”
“I trust you,” Carter said. “This far, anyway.”
“And once we’re on the shuttle…”
“We’ve got an ace in the hol
e,” Carter interrupted.
Nodding, Falco replied, “Control of the orbital defense network. I’d never be able to fly through it without your help. We get into low orbit, and work out the details from there. I presume Avenger won’t shoot us down out of hand?” Carter shook her head, and the pilot continued, “Then I think we’ve got a plan. Stadium’s just ahead. I’ll drop you off at the rear. Better get yourselves ready.”
Carter nodded, climbing back into the passenger compartment and clipping on her respirator, looking at the vast building looming in the near distance, Clarke grimacing at the monolithic structure.
“We needed schools, hospitals. We got a damned sports stadium with a capacity of five thousand people. I can count on one hand the number of times it’s actually been used.” Shaking his head, he said, “Pet project of the last Governor but one, and the general suspicion is that he picked it as a way of funneling cash out of the construction budget into his pocket. It isn’t exactly up to code.”
“Is anything, down here?”
“Not really,” Clarke replied. “There’s a reason we wanted rid of the Belters. If the money they got from selling that uranium had been spent down here, Atlantis would be just this side of Paradise, instead of the biggest slum in ten star systems.” Shaking his head, he said, “Maybe we can start to put that right now, but I somehow doubt the new government are up to the job.” The truck skidded to a halt, and the two of them climbed out, Falco only waiting for a few seconds before driving off again. They walked to the nearest airlock, a pair of guards either side.
“Quick,” Carter said. “Pull out your gun. I’m your prisoner.”
“That’s a pretty old trick,” Clarke replied.
She smiled, and said, “There’s a reason it is known as a timeless classic. They know you. It’ll work.”
He nodded, gesturing for her to take the lead, his pistol at her back, and the two of them walked around the corner to the airlock, the guards looking at Clarke and nodding at his approach, sneering at the captive Carter.
“Hey, that’s one of the ones who…,” the guard began.
“Quiet, damn it,” Clarke said. “There’s a reason we’re sneaking her in. Harrison wants her interrogated quietly before the people find out we’ve got her. There’s still a ship in orbit we’ve got to deal with. And before you ask, no, of course I don’t have anything in writing. Things are moving pretty damned fast right now. There’s an alert on upstairs.”
“Yeah,” the guard replied. “Ten minutes to warp ingress. That’s what Hardesty said. Shouldn’t hurt us down here, though. Word is that the orbital defense network is up and running, so we ought to blow those bastards right back to whatever hell they came from.” He grinned, then said, “Too good for them. I’d like to do something a little more entertaining, if you get me.”
“I hear you,” Clarke said. “Pass us through, will you?”
“I’ll have to call Hardesty,” the guard said. “Wait…”
Carter took a step forward, making to run, and Clarke raced towards her, grabbing her, pulling out a knife from a hidden scabbard and holding it at her throat, threatening the air line from her respirator.
“One move, and you’ll be coughing every minute for the rest of your worthless life,” Clarke said. “Just try it. Go on.” Turning to the guard, he said, “Damn it all, open up. I want to get her in a cell as fast as I can.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” the guard said, working the controls. “We’ve got the sensitive prisoners up on the Fourth Level. Some space up there. I’ll have Hardesty meet you at the elevator. He’s going to want to see her for himself.”
“Fine by me,” Clarke said, pushing Carter through, the engineer feigning as realistic a struggle as she could manage, making it appear as though she was being forced through against her will. The outer hatch slammed shut, and she heard the familiar whine of the atmosphere cycling, fresh air driving out the toxins from outside, until a green light winked on, admitting them to the inside of the stadium.
“I told you the old ones were the best,” she said. “How long before the alarms start ringing?”
“Maybe five minutes,” Clarke said. “This way.”
He led the way along the corridor, Carter following a footstep behind, her eyes darting from side to side, waiting for someone to attack, waiting for the sound of warning klaxons that would indicate that their plan had failed. There was only silence, other than their footsteps on the hardened stone, nothing more than that. Clarke turned down a corridor, gesturing at a locked door at the end of the passage, covered by a single security camera.
“Operations,” he said. “Life support, and more importantly, all the internal monitoring systems. If we can knock that out, it’ll throw everything offline, at least for a while. They’ll have trouble bringing the systems back up. I doubt they managed to penetrate deep enough into the security.” He paused, and asked, “Can you hack into the systems?”
“Probably,” she said, patting a pocket. “Avenger’s resident hacker provided a choice selection of his intrusion programs. That shouldn’t be any trouble. How do we get past the camera, though? That trick we tried outside isn’t going to work twice. They’re probably already wondering where we’ve got to.” She glanced at her watch, and said, “I hope Falco’s not having trouble. If we don’t have an escape route…”
“You’re the one who trusted her,” Clarke said with a smile. “And as for getting in, I’ve got an idea on that.” He walked down the corridor, the camera instantly picking him up as he approached, and pulled a small box out of his pocket, sticking it onto the door. The sirens Carter had dreaded started to wail, echoing along the corridor, as Clarke retreated from the secured door, carefully but quickly moving back. Carter frowned, cursed, then backed around the corner, pulling out her pistol.
The explosion drowned out the sound of the sirens, smoke racing into the air, forcing the fans of the lifesystem to overload in a bid to clear the newly introduced toxins now lacing the air. She glanced back down the corridor, then walked towards the grinning Clarke.
“You could have warned me,” she said.
“Where would have been the fun in that,” he replied. “There’s nobody inside. I think we’d better move quickly.”
“No kidding,” she said, carefully picking her way over the jagged remnants of the hatch. The room was smaller than she had thought, a single empty chair placed before a complicated control console, a dozen monitors showing a succession of views of the inside of the stadium, many of them providing images of despairing prisoners. The system was familiar enough, the same sort of designs used by the Fleet, and she quickly took the opportunity to introduce a few more alerts, decoy alarms scattered at every entrance.
“That ought to hold them for a minute,” she said. “Right now it’ll look to them as though they’ve got intruders coming from pretty much every direction.” She grinned, then added, “Precisely what we want, though I’m sure they’ll work this out soon enough.” She slid her borrowed data card into the reader, and watched as the software battered away at the local security, hacking through the firewalls to give her access to the deepest layers of the system. Clarke peered into the room, watching her work.
“Have you got control, yet?” he asked. “The core systems.”
“Nearly there,” she replied. Her hands hovered over the controls, ready to work as soon as the intrusion software did its job. It was tempting, so tempting to try and assume command of the systems, to make them work in their favor, but they simply didn’t have the time or the opportunity to take advantage of the incompetence of the local security technicians.
Hack and slash. That was the best way. The only way.
“We’re in,” she said, accessing the root directory. This was a simple, clumsy, brute-force approach, and one that could be repaired very quickly by someone with the right software and experience, but in ten, fifteen minutes, it wouldn’t make any difference at all.
She entered in a command sequence, then
confirmed her intentions three times, the computer reluctant to follow her orders but ultimately acceding to her will, and with a final series of keystrokes, she deleted the contents of the command master interface. At once, the panels went dark, all the lights flashing out.
“What did you do?” Clarke asked.
“Wiped the systems clean. They’ll have to install all the software again, and I hope they didn’t have much trouble adapting it to the local network, because all of that work will have to be redone. My heart bleeds for them.” Turning to him, she said, “They’ve got no internal monitoring, the locking mechanisms have failed, and any defense systems they had built in are now disabled. The place is wide open.”
“Good,” Clarke said, raising his pistol. “That’s going to make the next step a lot easier. Please, don’t move. The guards will be here in a minute.”
“Clarke…,” she began.
“The Belters are going to die,” Clarke said. “And this way, you’re going to get the credit. Or the blame. Besides, your fiancé is here, and I think he wants to see you, one last time.”
Chapter 24
“Status,” Corrigan pressed, turning to Crawford. “We’ve got to have that network up and running now, or we’re going to be in real trouble.”
“Five minutes, Commander,” the gunner said. “That’s the best I can do. The software is antiquated in the extreme. I can only calibrate the sensors so quickly.” He tapped a series of controls, and added, “Lieutenant Dixon’s modifications have been loaded into the arming solution. All of them seem to be functioning perfectly, but we’ll only know for certain when they activate.”
“Singh, sensor tracking,” Corrigan asked.
“Best projections now show four enemy ships incoming, with a high probability that one of them is Ajax,” the technician replied. “We’re about a minute from their arrival in-system. There’s still plenty of time for us to get away before they get here.” Glancing across at a side panel, he added, “No signals from the surface, nothing from Lieutenant Carter.”
Alone in the Night Page 16
