“Listen to yourself,” she said. “Just listen to what you are saying for one moment, and ask yourself how you would have reacted to words like that even a few months ago, said by someone else. You’re willing to use children as human shields to win your war, and don’t give me any crap about the enemy making the decision to fire. You’re making the decision to put them into harm’s way, and the blood will be on your hands, not theirs!”
“You just don’t understand,” he replied.
“Maybe, and maybe I understand a little too well,” she said. “Maybe this was the chance for Lieutenant Claude Mathis to be a hero, to pin that medal on his chest, maybe metaphorically, maybe not. That’s not what wearing this uniform means, Claude. You know that.”
Shaking his head, he said, “We’re different people. You were content to sit back and let others take the glory. I wanted my share. Back in the Fleet, it was the same old routine, day in, day out, everything identical, no room for the individual.” He paused, then said, “I’d have quit if it hadn’t been for the war. That didn’t change anything. I wanted to see some real action…”
“And you’ve had it,” she replied. “You’ve bathed in blood up to your waist, you’ve murdered and slain your way to a lonely corridor, pointing your rifle at someone attempting to save a hundred and twenty innocent lives. People who have committed no crime, other than being related to someone you believe is guilty. You’re going to throw them to the mob when you are done. You might not realize it, of course, and I’m sure you’re telling yourself that you have the best of motives, but you’re justifying your way to mass murder. I can’t be a part of that.” She looked at him, and said, “Maybe I just never saw this in you. Maybe it wouldn’t have come out unless this happened. I can buy McBride. He’s doing this out of a twisted sense of loyalty, at least. You? You’re doing this for personal glory, for prestige, to get your name into the history books.”
“That’s not…”
“Sure it is,” she said, reaching for the ring on her finger. She pulled it off, and tossed it to the floor, continuing, “I’m going to open that hatch. The shuttle should be down by now. I’m going to get them off this planet and to safety. I’m going to save their lives. If you have any part of yourself left in there, if you still even remotely believe in the ideals that I thought we both swore to uphold, then you’ll let me do it. Otherwise, I guess you’ll just have to shoot.”
“Don’t make me do it,” he said.
“You want to be a hero?” she asked. “This is how you become a hero. Not by racking up a body count. Not by leading a charge that gets the men behind you killed. Heroes die in lonely, empty corridors with nobody to know or care that they have fallen. Heroes die lost and forgotten. But we remember. Because it’s woven into the uniform. That’s what it’s really about.” She looked at him, shook her head, and said, “Make your choice.”
Raising his rifle, Claude replied, “Take your hands away from those controls. Don’t make me do this.”
“I’m not making you do anything. You’re doing that for yourself.”
“I mean it,” Mathis pressed. “I’ll do it.”
“Then stop talking about it, and get on with it,” she replied, working the controls. There was a loud, ear-splitting crack, a weapon discharging, and she looked back at Mathis to see him clutching at a wound in his chest, blood spilling everywhere, Falco stepping out of the shadows with pistol in hand.
“I was curious about the delay,” the Belter said. “I see you were busy. Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I’m afraid we were running out of time. Where’s Clarke?”
“Traitor,” she replied. “I left him downstairs.” She knelt down beside Mathis, his glazed eyes lifelessly staring into space, and added, “We were going to get married. Back before the war.”
“I would say that you had a narrow escape,” Falco said.
Tears streamed down Carter’s face, and she replied, “I…”
“It was him or you,” the pilot said. “Or to be precise, it was one life against a hundred and twenty-two, including you and I, and I was around long enough to hear him admitting to the assassination of President Bellini. Which I suspect was just about the last hope this planet had for a peaceful resolution to its problems.”
Carter looked down at her erstwhile fiancé, and said, “Why? What happened to you?”
“People react to war in different ways. Maybe it brought something out from deep in his psyche, maybe it was always there, deep down, and you just never saw it. Or maybe, just possibly, we’re in the middle of a secured facility with nuclear missiles on the way, and a hundred and twenty civilians depending on our getting out of here as fast as possible. I know that has little or nothing to do with your situation, but if we don’t get out of here right away, his friends will finish the job he started, and all of this…”
“I’m coming,” Carter replied, sliding her palm across Mathis’ face to close his eyes. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“That’s more like it,” Falco said, moving to the control panel. “You’d almost finished. Two more controls. I’ve locked the shuttle to the vehicular airlock, and I managed to throw enough barriers in the way to keep the rebels out for a few minutes. Long enough for us to get down there and ride that ship up to orbit.” Reaching for a control, she said, “This is Squadron Leader Falco. Help is here. Get down the docking tunnel as fast as you can. I’m lifting in five minutes, and I can’t wait for stragglers. Five minutes. No more. Out.” Turning to Carter, she added, “That means us.”
“I know,” the engineer replied, holstering her pistol.
Falco led the way back down the corridor, sirens wailing once more as the missiles drew closer, and asked, “Who launched them?”
“I thought you did,” Carter said.
“Why would we want to destroy our own uranium mines?”
Shaking her head, Carter replied, “I guess we’ll find out when we get to orbit.”
“About that,” the pilot said. “Turns out I might have underestimated how long it was going to take your people to get the orbital defense network set up. I hope you can manage to get through to your people, because otherwise, I’d say we have an excellent chance of being shot down by one side or another on their way up.” She glanced out of a window, and said, “Christ, it looks like they’ve managed to rupture a dome.”
Carter’s eyes ranged briefly over the landscape, the familiar fountain of air rising from the nearest city dome, the cracks indicating that the damage had been done from within, not without.
“Suicide,” Falco said. “This rebellion was suicide.” Before Carter could reply, she continued, “I’m not going to justify the working and living conditions. I can’t. Nobody could. But no matter how bad it got, this is worse.”
“The Atlanteans don’t think so,” Carter replied, as they turned down the final passage.
“That’s easy to say, but if you want to take a representative poll, you’d need to hold a séance,” Falco said. She took a deep breath, gestured at the waiting airlock, and said, “I’m with you. The sooner we leave this hell behind, the better.”
Chapter 26
Corrigan looked grimly at the viewscreen, and asked, “Well, Novak? Can we catch up to those bastards?”
“We can try, sir,” she replied. “But it’s going to be touch and go at best. We’re a hell of a lot faster than they are, but they’ve got a real head-start, and that’s going to make this tough, especially with the strain we’ve been putting on the power distribution network.”
“What about the satellites?” Dixon asked.
“They’re being very careful to stay out of range,” Crawford said. “They saw them positioned, remember, and they know just where the best spots are to keep out of the line of sight. We can’t count on using them. They’ll stay clear.” He paused, then added, “I’m a little concerned about the manner in which they were able to take control, as well…”
“We put in a few safeguards,” Dixo
n lied. “I guess they must have worked out how to make use of them.” Looking across at his sensor relay, he added, “As far as I can see, those missiles will be hitting the surface in a little under two minutes. There’s been some activity at a few of the sites, ships taking off, but a few of them have been completely dead.”
“That might just mean there’s nobody home,” Singh suggested. “I logged a lot of the workers heading back to Plato City when the riots began.” He paused, then said, “I’m getting some really bad signals from the surface, sir. More riots. President Harrison’s term of office has come to a very early end. It looks like the rebels are trying to install someone new, but there are several rival candidates. It’s a mess. One of the city domes was punctured a few minutes ago. Dozens of casualties, no report on fatalities.”
Novak shook her head, and said, “Christ, can they contain it?”
“That remains to be seen,” Corrigan replied. “We’ve done everything we can possibly do, and probably a hell of a lot more than we should. There no reason to make this mess any worse. What about the enemy?”
“Third Patrol Squadron is limping towards the gravitational threshold, but Ajax is holding in high orbit, just out of range of the satellites. I guess they’re keeping an eye on the situation while the others go and get help. If the idea is to lay siege to the planet, then there’s no reason to keep crippled ships on station.” Singh paused, smiled, and said, “We did make one hell of a mess of them, Commander. They won’t forget this battle any time soon.”
“None of us will, Ensign,” Dixon replied.
“Shuttle launch from the surface,” Singh said. “It’s a big one, as well. Looks like an orbital transit vehicle. Heading up from the local stadium, and moving fast. Way above normal acceleration.” After a couple of seconds, he added, “They’re heading for orbit, sir.”
“Hail them, Ensign,” Corrigan said. “Maybe someone might be in the mood to talk to us today.”
“It’s Lieutenant Carter, sir, and Squadron Leader Falco,” Singh said.
“Shuttle, this is Avenger Actual,” Corrigan began.
“Commander, we’re on the way up to orbit with a hundred and twenty non-combatants, all of them Belter citizens. They’d have been dead if we’d left them behind. The rebels were planning on using them as human shields.” There was a pause, and Carter continued, “I must also report the death of Lieutenant Mathis. He confessed to the assassination of President Bellini.”
“Christ, what a mess,” Rojek said, shaking his head.
“Proceed to low orbit,” Corrigan ordered. “Ajax is still in the system. Once the fighting is over, we’ll work out how to proceed, but we can guarantee your safety while we’re you are in orbital space. Icarus is fleeing the system with Harrison and McBride on board.”
“Cowards,” Falco said. “If they had any…”
“This was the plan all along, Squadron Leader,” Corrigan replied. “They’re sitting on hundreds of millions of credits worth of raw materials, that presumably they intend to auction to the highest bidder. They also launched the missiles against the mines on the surface. Presumably to increase the value of the commodities they hold.”
“Then all of this was about money?” Carter asked. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” Rojek said. “They had good teachers, Lieutenant, and they seem to have learned their lessons well.”
“Got them!” Novak yelled. “Interception in eight minutes plus, sir, with time enough for a couple of good shots. They made a little mistake on their departure vector. We should be able to hammer the bastards before they can reach the gravitational threshold.”
“Nice work, Lieutenant,” Corrigan said, a smile spreading across his face. “Crawford, you know what to do.”
“Aye, sir,” the gunner replied. “I’m already working on a firing plot.” Looking at his monitor, he added, “We’re well clear of Ajax, also, so I recommend that we lower our defensive screens and feed that power to the helm. The faster we fly, the more shots we get to take, and we ought to smash them to pieces with our first shot.”
“Make sure that we do,” Corrigan said. “Ensign, hail them. Let’s see if they’re willing to surrender. I can’t see it, somehow, but we ought to at least give them the chance.”
Frowning, Dixon said, “There’s something not quite right here. I can’t imagine that they’d let themselves get into this situation without having something they could call upon as a last resort. It doesn’t seem to be in character, not at all.”
“They’re hailing us, sir,” Singh said. “Audio only, though.”
“Put them through,” Corrigan replied.
“This is Commodore McBride,” the speaker barked. “You will stand down at once, Commander, and allow this ship to leave. There are matters taking place here that you know nothing about.”
“Judas had thirty pieces of silver, Commodore. You appear to have taken thirty pieces of uranium, but the general principle remains the same. Stand down at once, and prepare to surrender. I’m sure the local authorities will be very happy to have words with you in the near future. Lieutenant Mathis has confessed to the assassination of President Bellini, and I assume it will also be clear that he undertook that action on your orders.”
“I’m giving you a direct order, Commander. Let us go.”
“I think I can guess this part of it,” Rojek said. “Commodore, you’re heading to a staging point close to Earth, Luhman 16, maybe, somewhere quiet and out of the way where you will transfer your cargo to one of our transports. In exchange for which, Harrison and her Merry Men get the biggest payday of their lives, and Earth gets some valuable raw materials.”
“That is essentially it, Major. I’m glad you approve.”
“I understand,” Rojek said. “I don’t approve. Not in the slightest.”
“No deal, Commodore,” Corrigan said, “and no board of inquiry in the galaxy would expect me to obey any order you cared to give, not under these conditions, and you know it. The only chance you and the others have to live through this battle is to surrender at once. Cut your engines and allow us to come alongside. President Harrison and her crew can take their chances with a local court, but you’re coming with us to face court-martial on Earth.”
“That isn’t going to happen,” Harrison said. “That shuttle, heading up from the surface. It’s pretty vulnerable at the moment, and it’s going to remain so for quite some time. Especially given that I have retaken control of two of the defense satellites. I’m not going to tell you which, of course. You will let us leave, Commander, or you will watch them burn!”
“Crawford?” Corrigan asked.
“They might be right, sir,” he replied. “I’m having trouble getting a good data link with the satellites. There’s a lot of interference. They shouldn’t target the shuttle, but if someone’s been playing games with the systems, I suppose it’s not too much of a stretch to think that they’d be able to alter the target discrimination systems.” Shaking his head, Crawford said, “Planetary impact in ten seconds, by the way.”
Corrigan looked at Icarus, then down at the planet, watching as a ring of flashes erupted on the screen, followed by the dreadful mushroom clouds triggered by the explosion, soaring tens of thousands of feet into the sky, the mines rendered useless for decades. Plato City was now surrounded by a halo of death, the rebels reaping a horrific price for their desire to be independent.
And now a hundred and twenty others might pay the same price, unless he chose to let a series of traitors go free.
“Change to target aspect!” Crawford reported. “Satellite Two has launched! I repeat, Satellite Two has launched!”
“Confirmed,” Singh added. “I have a positive course track. One missile, heading directly for the shuttle, intercept estimated in four minutes.”
“Helm, bring us around,” Corrigan ordered. “Intercept course. We need to bring down that missile before it can detonate. Crawford, focus our particle cannons as tightly as you c
an. You’re only going to get one shot at this. Make it a good one.”
“I will, sir,” the gunner said.
“Thank you for being sensible,” Harrison replied. “I think that will suffice for the present, a little demonstration of what we can do. Until we meet again, Commander. Icarus out.”
“There’s got to be some way to get them,” Novak said.
“Civilian lives come first,” Corrigan replied. He tapped a control, and said, “Engineering, I need all possible power to the engines.”
“You’ve already got it, sir,” Collins said. “If I had anything left, I’d have fed it in. We’re not going to be able to keep the distribution systems running for much longer. You’ll have to get this over with fast.”
“That’s not an issue, Lieutenant. Four minutes and it’s all over.”
Avenger dived towards the shuttle, engines firing furiously, loud enough to make the deck plates shake from the strain as Novak guided them towards their goal, Crawford carefully preparing his firing solution. Only three trajectory tracks mattered now. Avenger, the shuttle, and the missile. All three started to converge as they got closer, closer, closer, the seconds ticking away remorselessly, seconds that meant life itself for those on the shuttle.
“Closing on target,” Novak said. “We’ll get one shot, in nine seconds.”
“Main batteries have a firing solution,” Crawford said.
“Change to target aspect!” Singh added, “Satellite Five just fired!”
“Target?” Corrigan asked.
“Us, sir,” the technician replied. “Impact in thirty-nine seconds.”
“I can only hit one missile, sir, not…”
“The first one,” Corrigan ordered. “Civilian lives come first.”
“Aye, sir,” Crawford said. “Firing.”
A crimson pulse swept across the sky, catching the missile dead on, reducing it instantly to its component atoms. Corrigan allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction as he sat back in his chair, watching as the shuttle swept clear, racing into the sky, out of range of the satellites.
Alone in the Night Page 18
