And a few of them got killed by the enemy, Marius thought, with bitter satisfaction. It was hard to feel sorry for someone who insisted on the finest cabins, the finest food and then bitched whenever they picked up a tiny bruise. And tried to lure female officers into their beds. Some of them might even have been killed by friendly fire.
But right now the Trial of Blake Raistlin was devouring the headlines. And so was everything from the scrapping of rules and regulations to the changes in ownership of various industrial concerns. Everyone seemed to have something to say, even though most of them merely repeated what someone else had already said. It was a major headache to keep track of the babble, or what it was doing to public opinion. There were reports from some of the shipyards of labor unrest, caused by fears over the future. And those fears were being spread by the media.
Tiffany leaned forward. “Maybe it’s time to bring the matter to a close,” she said. “Put a limit on the defender’s right to speak.”
“That’s not permissible,” Marius said. The defender could keep raising issues forever, as long as the judges were prepared to allow it. There were so many precedents that Darlington could keep hammering home the same message time and time again, without repeating himself once. “Most court martial hearings concentrate on the facts. They don’t normally need to spend months arguing over precedents.”
“Then ignore the issue,” Tiffany advised. “You don’t need to worry about him any longer, do you?”
Marius shrugged. He didn’t care to look at his own feelings, for the issue had become an obsession. Betrayal was something he’d expected from the Grand Senate, not someone who had been so close to him. And yet, in hindsight, it was blindingly obvious that Raistlin had been placed there to keep an eye on him. He should have anticipated that the younger man would be given other orders too.
“I don’t know,” he said, finally.
He’d always enjoyed working with younger officers, helping to steer their careers into places where they could best serve the Federation and themselves. Everyone wanted to be a captain, but not everyone was suited to be a commanding officer, not when the demands of commanding a starship under fire were intense. Steering someone gently away from command track was often a service to them as well as the Federation, even if they didn’t appreciate it at the time. Mentoring younger officers was important – and he’d seen himself as mentoring Raistlin, as well as Garibaldi and the others. And Raistlin had shot him.
“Well, don’t,” Tiffany said. She poked him in the chest. “This has...”
The ground heaved. Marius blinked in shock as the lights flickered on and off, then stood up and pushed Tiffany under the heavy wooden desk. The alarms started seconds later, emergency alerts flashing through the datanet. Marius triggered his implants, searching for the cause of the upheaval, then swore as he realized that four datanodes had been taken out. Someone was mounting an attack on Earth.
He reached for the pistol he kept at his side as the doors crashed open, revealing a handful of armed and armored Marines. Marius forced himself to relax, knowing that the Marines would be on edge – and that if they’d been subverted, there was no hope for anyone. And besides, if they were, there was no point in trying to fight.
“Sir,” the leader said. “There’s been an explosion. We have to get you to the bunker.”
“Take Tiffany too,” Marius ordered, as he was hustled across the office and up to the wall. “She needs to be safe too.”
The wall looked impregnable, but a hidden hatch opened when the Marine tapped it, revealing an antigravity shaft. Marius had no time to object before he was shoved into the shaft and fell into the depths of the earth. The antigravity field caught him before he hit the ground and whisked him into a bunker, where the president was expected to hide if there was ever a major attack on Earth. Given that the last president had been on the moon when Admiral Justinian had attacked, it was unlikely the cold gray bunker had ever been used for its intended purpose.
“Sir,” the operator said. She was a thin woman, so pale he couldn’t help wondering if she’d spent all her life below the earth. Her body was shaved so thin that he would have taken her for a child, if she hadn’t been wearing a military uniform. It looked thoroughly unnatural. “We have an emergency situation.”
“I gathered that,” Marius said. It had been six years since Admiral Justinian had attacked Earth. “Give me a status update.”
There was a whooshing sound behind him as Tiffany landed, then picked herself up off the ground. The operator looked as if she were about to object to her presence, then caught Marius’s eye and thought better of it. Instead, she turned back to her console and brought up a system-wide display.
“There was a bomb attack outside the President’s House,” she said, “and a number of smaller attacks scattered over the system. Nothing nuclear or antimatter, thankfully, but most of them were precisely targeted and did considerable damage. There were also attempts to attack the datanet with chaos software, but thanks to the precautions we put in place after the last attack they all failed. As of now, the datanet is secure.”
Marius took a step forward until he was looking down at the display. The attacks had been carefully targeted all right, and collectively they represented a major breach in security. It was beyond him to imagine how anyone had managed to carry out so many attacks, unless they’d had inside help. Admiral Justinian had done the same, six years ago. Hadn’t the Grand Senate’s purge been enough to sweep away all the infiltrators?
Evidently not, he thought.
He took a long breath. “Are there any reports of incoming ships?”
“None,” the operator said. “I checked with both the Gateway and Titan Base. Both of them are at full alert, but neither of them are reporting trouble. The long-range sensors in Luna Orbit have gone active and are currently sweeping the system, yet nothing out of the ordinary has been detected so far. There may be no incoming attack.”
Marius considered it, quickly. Home Fleet consisted of twelve squadrons of superdreadnaughts and over three hundred smaller ships, while both Earth and the Gateway were heavily defended. This time, the defenders had not been caught napping. The damage the attackers had done had been significant, but not fatal. There should be no need for a desperate defense of Earth.
“We will see,” he said. “Keep me informed.”
Reports came rolling in from all over the system. Each one made grim reading; the enemy, whoever they were, had targeted industrial plants as well as shipyards and even asteroid mining stations. One of Jupiter’s massive cloudscoops had been destroyed, while two others had been badly damaged. Marius watched in grim disbelief, wondering how so many terrorists had managed to get through the screening program. Surely, the Grand Senate had closed off all the likely angles of attack.
They subverted a clerk somewhere in the bureaucracy, he guessed. That rat bastard cleared them through the security net, perhaps recording that they were given the full security vetting before they were granted clearance to work anywhere. And people pay far too much attention to what’s written in the databases, rather than checking for themselves.
But there are too many people involved, his thoughts mocked him. How can they all be checked and vetted and then declared safe?
It was nearly five hours before he was sure they’d seen the worst of it. No attacking fleet had made its presence known, not entirely to his surprise. Admiral Justinian had attacked a fleet he’d known he’d decapitated – Marius had a suspicion he’d had someone watching the fleet from Earth, reporting on its status – but Home Fleet was intact and searching for any attackers stupid enough to infringe on Earth’s defense limit. And the chaos software attack had failed completely.
He shook his head as he tried to take in the scale of the attack. As shocking as they were, the attacks on Earth were the least of it. The attacks on the industries might well be more dangerous, in the long run. It was quite possible that the attackers had hoped to cripple the Federa
tion indefinitely. If that was the case, there might well have been other attacks...and almost certainly major trouble somewhere else. No one would have committed so much effort towards disrupting Earth – which wouldn’t last, despite the scale of the damage – without having a long-term plan to take advantage of the chaos.
It could be another warlord, he told himself. There were people who would argue that he was a warlord, the most successful one of all. But it could also be something far worse.
The thought tore at his mind. He’d known – and reported to the Grand Senate – that there were rumors of at least two undiscovered races out beyond the Rim, races that might pose a threat to the Federation’s security. Nothing had been reported as definite, but he’d known the Outsiders were still there, nursing their grudges and plotting revenge. The real danger had been the threat of them uniting against the Federation and fighting as a unit. And, with the Federation distracted by the Justinian War, they might have had a chance to unify and build up their fleets. It was certainly more believable than an alien race somehow managing to get enough people into place to carry out the attacks without being detected.
“Local space appears to be clear,” the operator reported, finally. She hadn’t given him a name, not once. “Emergency services are tending to the bomb blast victims.”
Marius nodded. The attacks appeared to be over, but he knew better than to think that was the end of it. Most of the terrorists had remained undiscovered...given time, he was sure, the security staff would track them down, but until then they’d have their opportunity to unleash hell across the system. Something would have to be done.
“Summon General Ricardo and...General Thorne to the bunker,” he ordered, slowly. There was no choice. Ricardo was a good man, but he would have to go. He’d been placed in command of Earth’s security and he’d dropped the ball, spectacularly. “And then send a priority-one message to the rest of the Federation. Earth has been attacked and other attacks will be on their way.”
He cursed as he looked up at the star chart, then paced into the barren office set aside for the president. Tiffany was sleeping in the bedroom, trying to relax. Marius didn’t blame her – and besides, he wanted to chew Ricardo out in private. Or, at least, without his wife in hearing range. By the time the two officers arrived, he had worked himself up into a furious state. It would be months before much of the Federation received the alert and God alone knew what would have happened by then.
“I want to know what happened,” he snarled, as soon as the door was closed and locked. “These attacks were unthinkably savage, weren’t they?”
“Yes, sir,” Ricardo mumbled. “I...”
Marius scowled at him. “What happened?”
“The attackers were completely under the radar,” Ricardo said, gathering himself. He’d spent too long working for the Grand Senate to have much of a backbone. “Each of the attacks was carefully planned and aimed right at our weakest spots. They managed to...”
“They managed to do more damage than Admiral Justinian,” Marius snapped. The latest reports had warned that it would be at least a year before Earth’s industries were completely rebuilt. And reports through the Gateway stated that Terra Nova had been attacked too. “This is the greatest counter-intelligence failure since the Battle of Spider Bite.”
“Yes, sir,” Ricardo said. He didn’t try to defend himself. “I take full responsibility.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Marius said. Heads would have to roll. Perhaps literally. “You are relieved of duty, effective immediately. There will be a full inquiry into just how this breach of security took place and, if you are found responsible for some of the failure, you will be held fully accountable.”
“Yes, sir,” Ricardo said.
Marius gave him one final glower, then turned to look at General Thorne. He was a hard man, with a hard reputation and a war record that was regarded as somewhat questionable, but he had managed to complete his mission reasonably well. The Grand Senate had made use of him, yet that couldn’t be held against him. Marius had worked for the Grand Senate too.
“General,” he said. “I want you to take full command of Earth’s security. A state of emergency is now in effect and all rights are suspended, understand? I want every military base and industrial node under heavy guard. No one is to get inside without being thoroughly vetted, then searched.”
“Yes, sir,” Thorne rumbled. One of his eyes was clearly artificial; the other was a surprisingly soft brown. “I won’t let you down.”
“I want everyone who might be even remotely involved interrogated, thoroughly,” Marius ordered. “Go through everything. Search incoming ships, probe computer databanks, investigate even the slightest trace of dissident leanings, everything. I don’t want you to leave even a single stone unturned.”
“Yes, sir,” Thorne said.
Ricardo cleared his throat. “Your Majesty...”
“I am not a Majesty,” Marius snapped. It sounded absurd to be called ‘Your Majesty’ by anyone. “Sir is quite sufficient.”
“Sir, the economic effects of such a security sweep will be disastrous,” Ricardo warned. “If even the slightest hint of dissident leanings is grounds for an arrest...”
“Investigation,” Marius said. “Whoever is behind this attack has to be stopped, now!”
He forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths until he could speak clearly. “This disaster happened on your watch,” he added, sharply. “I trusted you to look after Earth. Instead, we’ve had the greatest series of terror attacks since...ever...and the start of a whole new war. We must eliminate these bastards before they manage to hit us again.”
“Yes, sir,” Ricardo said.
“Go,” Marius ordered. “The board of inquiry will be organized as soon as we have a preliminary security report.”
It crossed his mind that Ricardo might commit suicide, but Marius found it hard to care. The man had failed spectacularly. Even if it hadn’t been his fault...he caught himself, suddenly understanding why the Grand Senate had spent so much time and effort looking for scapegoats. It was always easier to handle failure or disaster if there was someone to blame.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. There were too many other problems to handle right now. The attacks had to signify the start of a new war...
...And, along the Rim, all hell could be breaking loose.
Chapter Seventeen
Surprise is always a deadly weapon because it leaves the enemy reeling – and, more importantly, unsure of what is going on. A naval squadron that considered itself connected to an entire navy might find itself isolated, utterly unaware of the fate of its comrades. Thus, such a squadron might seek to avoid battle even when the odds are in its favor.
-The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199
Tyler’s Star, 4098
Tyler’s Star – and Tyler’s World – was among the oddest star systems known to the Federation. It had two Asimov Points, but while one of them led back into Federation space the other was a complete mystery. Dozens of ships, some of them heavily armored, had slipped into the Asimov Point...and never been seen again. The other actually existed outside the star’s inner gravity field, something that had perplexed the Federation’s researchers ever since it had been discovered. Before then, they’d known that all Asimov Points floated within the star’s gravity field. Indeed, the best – or at least most commonly believed – theory for their existence relied on stars providing the gravity field that warped the fabric of space and time.
The system, Roman knew, had once attracted a great deal of scientific attention. There should have been two research stations orbiting the Asimov Points, one probing the mystery point and the other studying the more regular point that drifted at the edge of the star system. But now, the second research station was gone and a very familiar red icon orbited the Asimov Point in its place. There was no trace of any debris, according to the probe, but there might well not have been any to find. The station mi
ght just have been shoved into the Asimov Point to be turned into atoms by the gravity tides.
“The battlecruisers are to sneak up on that ship and take her out,” he ordered. Anywhere else, there would be no need to be sneaky. Here, the picket could drop into FTL at any moment and make her escape, if they suspected trouble. “She is not to be allowed to escape.”
He watched as dispassionately as he could as three battlecruisers disengaged from his fleet and crawled forward, advancing on the Asimov Point. They shouldn’t be detectable, he knew; they mounted the latest in military-grade cloaking devices. And yet, the Outsiders had sprung far too many surprises already. What about an advance in sensor systems that would pick up the battlecruisers before they entered firing range? The bad guys might have a nasty surprise waiting for the Federation starships on the other side of the Asimov Point.
They can’t be strong everywhere, Roman told himself, firmly. Not even the Federation Navy was strong enough to assign an entire battlefleet to every potential destination for his fleet. And yet they have to know where I would need to go.
He sighed, inwardly. Civilians saw the stardrive and wondered how starships could ever be intercepted on their voyage from A to B. But they didn’t realize just how much time the Asimov Points shaved off interstellar journeys. It would take months for Roman to take his fleet to Boston using stardrive alone, ensuring that the war would probably be decided, one way or the other, before he linked up with any other friendly forces. No, he had to go through the Asimov Points...and the Outsiders would know it as well as he did. They would have a chance to lay an ambush in his path.
But where will they go? He asked himself. And what are their objectives?
The red icon flashed once, then vanished. “Operation complete,” Palter said. “The enemy vessel has been destroyed.”
Roman felt a flicker of sympathy for the enemy crew, even though they would have gladly killed him and his men, given half a chance. One moment, they’d been alone in space; the next, missiles had been fired from what was, effectively, point-blank range. They hadn’t stood a chance. There had been no time to bring up either their drives or their shields before they’d been blown into atoms. And it was doubtful that any of them had been able to get into the lifepods, even if they’d thought there was a chance of being rescued by friendly forces.
The Shadow of Cincinnatus Page 16
