"I'm still a bit bloated from last night. Man, that was good, but I'm paying the price for it now. I wanted to do a run. Not sure my gut could take it."
Tawn laughed. "And the food warrior that he was... is no more. You've turned into a lightweight, Mr. Gruberg."
Harris stared. "Let's just get this breakfast over with so we can get back to work."
After returning to pick up the others, a list of materials as provided by Alex was purchased. The processor production was running full-bore.
Over the week that followed, two truce worlds and four New Earth colonies were overrun and their inhabitants killed. Transports were running non-stop to the unguarded worlds that remained occupied. Citizens stood in long lines at the space ports, only to find ships full and leaving long before they got to them. Riots had been the result on two colonies, the ports overrun and ship captains refusing to land.
Harris was again standing in the bunker lab. "That's thirty-two."
"Yes," said Alex. "The floor below has been opened, and assembly stations are already preparing for the next set. If all goes well, we will reach the hundred station mark in five days."
"And our worker count?"
"One hundred ninety-six. We should begin to see a real acceleration of numbers going forward. The supplies you have gained from Domicile have been a tremendous help. When this new set of stations comes online, we should see a doubling of workers every three days, so long as we have adequate supplies."
"Unless Domicile flips on us, that shouldn't be a problem. Are we putting together the final Banshee yet?"
"In two days. Will there be more materials brought in for further manufacture of the fighter craft?"
Harris shook his head. "Not at the moment. We need to keep focus on building the processors and railguns here. The first of the Banshee hulls will be coming in next week. We need those items for them."
"How will they be transported here for the installations?"
"The Hailstorm is it. We can fit eight per bay, and she has four bays. They'll load the hulls up at Domicile. I'll fly them back here for the processor and weapon insertion. If all goes well, they fly out, do their testing, and park until needed. Round trip should only take me two to three hours per load."
"It is an ambitious plan."
"Yeah, I'd call it that. Unfortunately, we're still weeks away from having the fleet we need for an assault."
Harris inspected one of the new stations as he walked. "You said the other day that I qualified for the next level. Don't suppose you'll give me a hint as to what that might be?"
"I'm sorry, Harris. I am not allowed to give that information."
"How close are the others to achieving this next level?"
"Very close. I would suggest, if this is a priority, their assistants be returned to them. Through that interaction they are more likely to complete their journeys."
Harris chuckled. "Journeys? You trying to change us or something?"
"I am not at liberty to say."
Tawn came into the room. "Another Banshee just checked out. That's sixteen in our fleet now."
"We'll be running out of materials for those in a few days."
"Why don't we go pick up what we need from Domicile?"
"Our agreement was to focus on processor units. Until we're assured of reaching the numbers we need I don't want any distractions."
"We're capable of doing both."
"I know, but when we're talking hundreds of ships, one or two won't help on our end if it keeps us from building ten others."
— Chapter 23 —
* * *
Harris was leaving the lab when Alex came with an alert. "Gantway, Xenuk, and the Earther colony of Rakutsk are under attack. Another seven hundred thousand colonists will be lost. An Earther fleet of more than two hundred transports was caught in the attack and destroyed. I believe that to have been their main evacuation force. There are now only five truce worlds and a dozen New Earth colonies remaining. The Human death toll now appears to be topping seven million."
"This is horrible," said Tawn. "We're stuck in this mode of not having enough ships to do anything about any of this. If we have the ability, we should be turning out our own hulls."
Harris sighed. "You're right. Let's head to Domicile and see what we can pick up."
A short while later they were walking into Bannis Morgan's office.
"Gruberg, good, I've expedited your list with my staff. We should expect to have the stocks you need rounded up in the next few hours. You'll have enough for another thirty-two ships. How goes the processor construction?"
"On schedule. The hulls?"
"One day ahead if we can hold to where we are. Amazing what can be done when both the government and populace are behind you."
"You've got some heavy bags going on under those eyes. You been getting enough rest?"
"Rest is for those with nothing to do."
Harris chuckled. "Yeah, well, being dead is for those who don't rest. Mix in a bit before it takes a toll. We need you running at 100 percent until we get this fleet fielded."
"I'll see what I can squeeze in."
A comm came in to Bannis: "Hmm. Looks like the president's office."
Harris took a seat as Bannis flipped the comm to speaker. "This is Bannis."
"Mr. Morgan, please hold for the president."
Bannis pressed a mute button. "Was a time when I'd have squirmed if the president was calling me. Now, knowing him to be a bit of a hack, I'm no longer intimidated."
The president came on. "Mr. Morgan, I have some great news. Tremendous news."
"Go on."
"I've just come from a secret negotiation with the Denzee queen."
Harris sat forward. "What?"
"Is that Mr. Gruberg?"
"He's here. You mentioned something about the queen?"
"Yes. I've just come from a negotiation. The Denzee have agreed to cease all hostilities toward us. They will also allow the peaceful removal of our citizens from the remaining truce worlds. This will last for a period of six months, not to exceed eight. After that time, they will leave our space."
Harris sat forward. "And wipe out the Earthers. We can't sit and allow this to happen."
"Actually, we can. And we already have. I was comming Mr. Morgan to tell him the good news. We no longer need the Banshee ships. Through executive order, I've put a halt to all construction immediately."
"What? You have to be kidding? Why would we do away with beefing up our defenses?"
"Because we have a signed agreement that says we will cease all such activities during this period."
"You still didn't comment on New Earth. What's to happen to them?"
"New Earth will have to negotiate their own peace, Mr. Gruberg. Given our history with them, I should think you would be thrilled. We don't have to fight, and in six months Beckland will be returned to us."
Harris stood. "You, sir, are a fool. They won't honor that agreement. And in the meantime we lose another billion Humans."
The president returned an angry expression. "To deny this agreement will be to once again put you in opposition with this government, Mr. Gruberg. I would suggest you take a step back and look at the bigger picture of peace. In six months our history of warring with ourselves will be over and the Denzee will be moving along."
"In six months the Earthers will all be dead and probably most if not all of our citizens. This move is absurd with a capital A. You can't trust—"
"That ship has already sailed, Mr. Gruberg. Now are you with peace or against it?"
"At this cost and risk? Most definitely against it."
Harris pressed the mute button. "How soon could you get the materials I came for?"
"As I said, possibly two to three hours."
The mute was disabled. "Mr. President, I must apologize. Mr. Morgan just explained the benefits of this move to me. You'll have my full cooperation."
"A wise move, Mr. Gruberg. Now, Mr. Morgan, please send
the immediate word that all operations are to be suspended and work begun on the dismantling of what we've done."
"I'll send the word."
The president nodded. "Gentlemen, it's the start of a glorious new day for humanity."
The comm closed.
Harris clenched his fists. "If he was in this room I'd rip his head from his neck right here and now. He just sold us all out in the name of his beloved peace. This agreement is a death warrant for New Earth, and probably us. Get me the materials I need so we can at least keep production moving on Midelon."
Bannis made several comms before turning back. "The materials should be in the works. My assistant will give you a list of what you can grab from where. I'll try to shut things down in a way that should allow you to get what you need."
"You want to come back to Midelon? We could use you."
"I need to stay here. I want this dismantling to go as slow as possible. I have a feeling this peace will only last as long as the Earthers do. I know they've been our enemies for centuries, but as you said, they are Humans, and I'll take crappy Humans over some overgrown rodent queen any day."
Harris made his way out of the building and to the Hailstorm. The first three material pickups were arranged and made before a comm hail came in from a Domicile destroyer.
"This is Gruberg."
"Mr. Gruberg, Captain Sanders… I've been given the order to ask you to cease and desist. The president is aware of your current gathering of manufacturing supplies. You will stop this criminal action and return those supplies to where you received them while under our escort. You will then be escorted from Domicile, with an order to stay gone for a period of at least six months. Do you understand, sir?"
Harris nodded. "I understand. I understand the president is an idiot. Now you understand, the Denzee will come here, and when they do they will round everyone up, take them to low orbit, and shove them out through a gravity wall. Tell me you don't understand that, Captain."
"Sir, this is your final warning. I've just received word that Mr. Morgan has been placed under arrest for treason against the state. I'm told he will be released should you comply with this order."
Harris shook his head. "Wish I could, Captain, but I think you and I both know the moment I set down, two dozen troopers will storm aboard this ship to arrest me. I'm sorry, Captain, I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave."
The Hailstorm accelerated up through the atmosphere, soon becoming a fireball. Several attempts were made to hail Bannis Morgan. All failed.
Twenty-five minutes later, the Hailstorm landed at Midelon. A dejected Harris Gruberg walked down the ramp to a waiting Tawn and Gandy.
Gandy raced up the ramp, poking his head through the gravity wall of the bay before turning back. "You got it?"
Harris slowly shook his head. "No. And I've got what might be the worst possible news."
Gandy gave a nervous chuckle. "How bad could it be?"
Harris looked directly at Tawn. "The president went behind our backs and made a deal with the Denzee."
"What? What kind of deal?"
"All ship production on Domicile has been stopped and is now in the process of being dismantled—again. In turn, the Denzee queen promised not to attack any free world colonies. Our people can be peacefully removed from the truce worlds, with control of those colonies turned over to the Denzee for six months. At the end of six months, Beckland will be returned and the Denzee will leave our space."
Tawn scowled. "And the president believes that? What about the Earthers?"
"He hung 'em out to dry. Domicile will not get involved in any dealings with New Earth. As the president put it, it's up to them to negotiate their own peace. I think in his mind he hopes the Denzee will do his dirty work for him and end all Earther aggression permanently."
Harris turned back to Gandy. "I only got about a third of our materials list. Unless we figure out how to source the rest from somewhere else, it looks like our ship building days are over."
"New Earth," Gandy said.
"New Earth what?"
"We get what we need from New Earth. In return, we offer what assistance we can with the ships we have. Tell the emperor we'll commit every ship he provides us material for to the defense of New Earth from the Denzee. We're right at the point of turning out two of these per day—if we have the material. That would at least give us a force capable of taking on fifty Ratoons at once. We use the boson bomb to divide and destroy their fleet, one group at a time."
Tawn raised an eyebrow. "Not sure the emperor will agree to our terms. He's kind of mad at us right now."
"He can be mad. If he declines an offer like that, he would be a bigger fool than our president."
Harris made his way to the supply hut, with Tawn and Gandy following. "Alex, open a comm with a general hail to New Earth for the emperor."
"One moment… they have accepted."
Several seconds passed before an image displayed on the wall. "Mr. Gruberg, have you commed to offer your condolences for the millions of our colonists who are now dead?"
"No, I come with news that will make you seethe with anger, and then an offer that you can't refuse."
"If this is about your ship production on Domicile, I already know. In a few months you will have a fleet capable of defeating the Denzee."
"Yeah, well, that's part of the bad news. That construction was well underway. We would have had a fleet capable of taking on the Denzee in about five weeks."
"Five weeks and we may no longer be here."
"I know. Anyway, on to the bad news. The president of Domicile, in all his pacifist glory, has made an agreement with the Denzee queen."
The emperor sat up.
"The agreement states that the Denzee will refrain from attacking any free-world colonies and in six months will return Beckland to them, before leaving our space. In return, they will cease all warship production immediately and dismantle such production. Also, a grace period would be allowed for Domicile to remove any of her remaining citizens from truce world colonies."
"And what of us?"
"He abandoned you completely. Said it was up to New Earth to negotiate their own peace deal with the Denzee."
"This is grave news. My commanders must prepare."
"I still have the offer if you'd like to hear it."
"Please."
"We're out of the supplies we need to build more ships. The president has cut us off from obtaining more. If you would supply those to us, we will commit every ship we build with those supplies to the defense of New Earth and her colonies."
"And how many ships can we expect to be put to our defense?"
"At the moment we can put out two per day."
The emperor closed his eyes, opening them slowly as he let out a long breath and shook his head. "Doesn't sound like much of a defense, Mr. Gruberg."
Tawn said, "It's all we can offer."
"I have my shipyards here at New Earth. Give me two weeks and we could be producing five times that number. If we had the titanium."
Tawn shook her head. "These ships have tech we aren't willing to give up."
"They already have everything but the rail cannon and the processor," said Harris to Tawn, turning back from the comm.
"Emperor, we would be willing to modify our deal to accommodate you in this way. You build the hulls, we arm them, man them, and control them in battle. When the battle is won, they remain in our control."
"As I said, we don't have the titanium, Mr. Gruberg. You saw to it that our supply was destroyed."
"Not true. You have a ready supply there with you. One of your destroyers, dismantled, could yield the titanium needed to armor fifty of these ships. They're small, fighter-size craft."
You're asking me to cannibalize one of my few remaining ships for this... adventure?"
"It's not an adventure, Emperor. If you recall, we recently took out twenty Ratoons at Eden with a dozen of these ships. We lost half, but the Denzee were defeated. We can
work this, Emperor. You still have a shot at saving your people, but we need to act now."
"I will want to consult with my commanders."
"I thought you were the emperor, the supreme leader of all Earthers? Aren't your orders the final say? We're offering you a chance to defend your worlds, Emperor. Take that chance and run with it."
Tawn said, "And if you haven't already killed off Baxter Rumford, she'd be the one I'd put in charge of this effort."
"Miss Rumford disappeared from Eden a day before you attacked. I had supposed she defected to your side. We currently don't have knowledge of her whereabouts."
Harris sat back. "Really? She left?"
"Without so much as a goodbye."
Harris chuckled. "She's slippery like that. So, this offer, do we have a deal?"
"I believe we do, Mr. Gruberg."
Harris nodded his head with a grin. "I'm sending you the designs for the ship and the equipment required to build it. As I said before, we'll arm it and command it. You just deliver the hulls as we spec them to you. And I have one addendum to this deal."
"And what would that be?"
"You also supply us with the materials we need to keep moving our own production here forward. As I said, all ships produced from your materials will be used in your defense. And, Emperor, you just made a smart decision. This might save the lives of a billion Humans. Your Humans."
The data was transferred and the comm closed.
Harris clapped his hands together. "Success!"
Tawn chuckled. "What was that?"
"Something one of my former stump buddies used to do when something went the way he wanted it to. I guess that was a tribute to him. He bought it on Helm. Was a funny guy."
"So… we have a few hours before we make a jump to New Earth. Would you rather go for a run or eat?"
Harris laughed. "I'd rather eat, but a run is what I need. Wanna race?"
Tawn shook her head. "You beat me by thirty seconds last time out. Until I can catch that time I have no interest in doing fitness combat with you. I'll just run along behind."
— Chapter 24 —
* * *
ARMS Beckland's Fall: (Book 5) Page 21
