by Grant, Peter
He heaved a long, low sigh. “It shook me pretty badly, too, darling. It was the last thing I expected to hear.”
“But can it be real? I just… I don’t know how to see light at the end of the tunnel any more. I daren’t allow myself to hope! We’ve known for more than three years that we had no chance of building a life together. That’s why we decided not to get married – it would have seemed too much like living a lie. All those others who rushed into marriage when the war began… remember how many of them ended up as widows or widowers?”
He nodded grimly. “Yes – and even worse, those who became mothers and found themselves having to raise a kid who was as likely as not to be killed in an enemy raid. Even those who weren’t killed still face the likelihood of being imprisoned in a Bactrian slave camp. That’s the best most of them can hope for. I could never understand why anyone would bring kids into a mess like this. I don’t see how they could grow up doing anything other than curse their parents for giving them such a sorry excuse for life.”
“I saw it the same way. I really wanted to bear your children, but not like that! I gave up hope; but now, to be told that we may have a chance at life after all – and not just at life but at life together… it’s… I’m sorry, darling. I guess I’m not making very much sense.”
“I don’t know that I’m doing any better. How about this, love? Let’s go on living one day at a time, just as we’ve done since the invasion. We might still get hurt or killed in operations planetside, and we’ll have to fight our way past Bactrian warships to reach safety. One or both of us might not make it. Let’s wait until we’re sure we’re out of their reach before we try to make any plans.
“There’s another thing, too.” He told her what Gloria had said about needing professional help to work through the years of stress. “If we both need that much help – and I can see her point – we may not be in a fit state to make a long-term commitment until we’ve worked through everything.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Dr. Allred’s right that we’ll need help, I can see that: but I made my commitment to you long ago. It’s not going to change. As far as I’m concerned, we could get married the day after we leave orbit and it would suit me fine!”
He grinned at her. “And there was I trying to be considerate!”
She slowly began to smile. “Hey, you – how long is it since we last made love? I mean, really made love – not just a quickie in the corner because we couldn’t find time or privacy for anything more.”
“It’s probably months.”
“It sure is – I’ve been counting! Tell you what. As soon as we reach safety on another planet, I’m going to keep you in bed for a whole day. At the end of that time you’ll be so exhausted you won’t be able to resist when I drag you off to whatever they use for a marriage officer!”
He laughed. “It’s a deal!”
March 13th 2850 GSC
LAGUNA PENINSULA
Dave leaned back and rubbed his dry itching eyes. He peered at the display once more, then suddenly shook his head in frustration and thrust back his chair.
“Taking a break?” Lieutenant Kubicka asked from the terminal next to his.
“Yeah. My eyes are so tired I can’t see straight any more. I’m going to check on the shuttle preparations.”
The two shuttles obtained during the first days of conflict, and the new one captured by Dave and his team in the Matopo Hills, were parked in a side cavern. It took Dave ten minutes to reach it, stumbling over the uneven cave floor that no-one had bothered to smooth. He found a crew of technicians hard at work. When the two older shuttles had run out of fuel and supplies the previous year, they’d been flown here and mothballed – powered down, drained of all fluids, sealed against wind and weather. Now they were being restored to flying condition. Two techs were being assisted by half a dozen willing helpers as they pumped reaction mass into a shuttle’s tanks from the bladders brought from Caristo. Another two-man team was loading a fuel cartridge into its underfloor fusion micro-reactor. The other shuttle had already been powered up, and a pilot was sitting at its control console running status checks.
As he approached the rear ramp of the all-black Security Service shuttle, Dave recognized Tamsin’s close-cropped russet hair, wisps curling over her ears as she bent over the console. Beside her an older man with a mostly bald head and wisps of gray hair over his ears was pointing out something.
She turned to look at Dave as he walked up the ramp, face breaking into a tired smile. “Hey, lover! Come to take me away from all this?”
“I wish I could,” he said fervently. “I just couldn’t stare at a display any more – my eyes were starting to feel like they’d been bathed in sand.” He glanced at the other man. “Hi, Mac. How’s it going?”
“Too much work for an old man like me. And you?”
“Too much work for a young man like me!”
Tamsin said, peering at his face. “Your eyes are pretty red. Let me put some drops in them for you.”
“Thanks, darling.” He sat down in a pull-out chair and tilted his head back.
As she took a squeeze bottle of eye drops from the shuttle’s first aid kit and dripped them into his eyes, she said, “Mac’s been showing me some of the special features of this assault shuttle. Looks like the Security Service had some toys that aren’t found on the normal Army birds.”
“Yes,” the older man agreed. “They’re going to come in very handy in orbit. For example, did you know this thing can generate multiple false transponder codes on traffic control radar?”
Dave sat up with a jerk. “You’re joking! Wouldn’t that make it a hell of a hazard in a high-traffic environment?”
“Stop jumping around like that!” Tamsin scolded Dave. “Now I’ve got to put in more drops.” She pushed him back down into his seat and suited the action to the word.
“It would indeed,” Mac answered Dave, “but when has the SS ever bothered about endangering anyone else? As far as they’re concerned, if they need to sneak up on someone that’s all the justification they need. That’s another capability this bird has – you can set its autopilot to home in on any radio or radar signal automatically. The active stealth features are what interest me most. They’ll make it easy for us to sneak up on the space station. They won’t know we’re coming until we’re there.”
“Can we operate them without tech training? And surely the station operators will see the docking bay indicators when we arrive?”
“No, we don’t need specialized training – they’re designed to be used by the typical SS thug, which means a simple interface and lots of artificial intelligence to figure out what the operator wants and deliver it. I’ll teach Tamsin and her backup pilot all they need to know. As for the space station; don’t forget, that’s our station. When the Bactrians took it over they left our computer and defense systems intact as an economy measure, rather than replace them with their own.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I installed the latest updates to those systems before the invasion. I know them inside-out, back-to-front and upside-down. I can remotely disable docking notifications. Once we’re aboard, it’ll be up to you and your team to take out the watch on duty in the control room without shooting it up too badly. If you get that right, I’ll take care of the rest.”
“We’ll do our best.” He blinked away the last of the eyedrops and the tears they’d produced, wiped his eyes with a gauze swab Tamsin handed him, and looked up at her. “How are the spacesuits? Usable?”
She frowned. “The ten that we captured in the lockers aboard this shuttle are pretty new. They look fine to me. The others we had in storage… not so much. They weren’t in airtight containers, and got knocked around a bit during their transfer here. Trouble is, we don’t have a proper test facility to check them out. I think a few should be usable after some care and attention. The rest are damaged to the point I don’t trust them to be airtight any more. I’m cannibalizing them for parts to repair the other
s.”
“And we need seventeen in all. I guess someone’s going to have to go without, although two won’t be in spacesuits for the first phase anyway.”
She made a moué of distaste. “If a hit vents our internal atmosphere to space, anyone not in a suit’s going to die a horrible death.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it unless we can fix some of the damaged suits. What if we tried wrapping them in good old-fashioned duct tape?”
She looked startled, then broke into a laugh. “Well, duct tape must have been used on anything and everything else in the settled galaxy for at least a millennium, so maybe it’ll work on spacesuits too. We’ve got nothing to lose by trying it. A double layer of tape should slow any leaks enough that the suit will only deflate slowly. If whoever’s wearing it stays as still as possible and doesn’t move unless he has to, it should be good for ten to fifteen minutes in vacuum. If we aren’t safely aboard either the space station or the ship by then, I guess none of us are going to make it at all.”
Mac grinned. “That’s the spirit! Now, I’ve been monitoring Bactrian space traffic ever since they invaded, keeping an eye on the ships they deploy to the Laredo system, learning their traffic control schedules and procedures in space and planetside, and analyzing their messages. How much do you know about their warships?”
“Only that they have them,” Dave admitted. “Spaceships have never been one of my interests until now.”
“All right. Briefly, they have one squadron of eight corvettes – that’s about the smallest interstellar warship there is, maybe thirty thousand tons, the same size as a communications frigate. Each carries forty main battery missiles and forty defensive missiles. They don’t base them here because they don’t have enough of them in service, what with the demands of maintenance, training and so on. Also, warships are very expensive. Even though Bactria’s economy is several times the size ours was before the war, she has to spend most of her military budget on the occupation here.”
“Are those the small warships that sometimes visit this system?”
“That’s right, although they don’t stay for long. They use what we call ‘armed merchant cruisers’ to patrol our system. There are four, all old tramp freighters – some of the same ones they pressed into service as troopships to invade us, as a matter of fact. After the troops had been landed they sent four of them back to Bactria, where they fitted them with fire control systems and installed a few laser cannon and some missile tubes in a couple of their cargo holds. They’re slow, the same speed as merchant ships, but there’s no real threat to space traffic here so that doesn’t matter. All they have to do is stop anyone making contact with us from space, and they’ve been adequate for that. They carry a lot more supplies than a corvette, so they can stay on station for several months. Of the four one’s usually patrolling the Laredo system; one’s in Laredo orbit giving local liberty to its crew, doing minor maintenance and preparing for the next patrol; one’s back at Bactria for servicing; and one’s on the regular monthly cargo and passenger run between here and there. With me so far?”
“Yes.”
“OK. Also in orbit will be the Satrap’s private yacht – it’s a corvette hull that was built without missile cells. They converted the unused space into luxury apartments, and he uses it for official trips off-planet. It’s usually escorted by one or two corvettes.”
Dave grimaced. “So we’ll have to deal with at least one actual warship, maybe two?”
“Yes. The yacht isn’t a threat, of course, as she doesn’t carry missiles, although I understand she has a couple of laser cannon for self-defense against incoming fire. The corvettes carry enough missiles to reduce any freighter to radioactive molecules.”
“What about the cruiser on patrol?” Tamsin asked.
“It’ll be no faster than the merchant ship coming to collect Mr. Ellis and our evidence. If she can get outside missile range of the cruiser and stay there, it won’t be able to catch up with her.”
Dave nodded thoughtfully. “So if she’s on one side of the planet, the freighter will head in the opposite direction?”
“That’s right, although it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“And do we have to destroy the space station as well?”
“Yes, or at least disable it until we’ve left the Laredo system. If we don’t, it can direct other ships to pursue us or broadcast a warning to any ship entering the system that might be able to intercept us. We’re looking at ways and means to do that.” Mac stretched. “Anyway, enough about my troubles. What about your plans for the attack on the Caristo garrison?”
“They’re coming along nicely,” Dave assured him. “I’ll be taking half the crews of the other two shuttles back to Caristo with me in a few days to set up the assault on the garrison there. We’ll be helped by those who plan to settle on farms and ranches in the area. I’ll command the assault, but General Allred’s warned me I can’t lead it in person. He wants me alive to command the mission to space. Instead I’ll have plenty of NCO’s to do the dirty work.”
Mac grinned. “They won’t let me have any fun either until we head up to orbit. Bunch of spoilsports, aren’t they?”
Tamsin snorted, “Overgrown schoolboys, both of you! I’m glad I’ll be there to help keep Dave under control.”
“Oh?” Mac exclaimed in surprise. “You’re not going to be flying us down to join him?”
“No, our backup pilot will do that. I’ve got to be there to supervise the fueling and arming of the garrison’s two shuttles, then get them out of the way before our three shuttles arrive so we can fuel and arm them in their turn. We’re going to be busier that night than a gang of one-legged people at a multiple ass-kicking contest!”
~ ~ ~
Jake invited Dave and Tamsin to have supper with him that night. He seemed preoccupied, almost distant. They tried to cheer him up, but weren’t very successful. At last he pushed back his half-eaten meal.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to enjoy my food tonight. Let’s get coffee, then take it to my quarters where we can talk privately.”
Jake had been allocated a small alcove in the command tunnel as his personal quarters. They were surprised to see that all his gear had been packed and his sleeping-bag rolled tight, almost as if he were about to move out. Dave instantly guessed what that meant.
Jake saw him glancing around, and grimaced. “I see you’ve noticed. Yes, I’m leaving shortly before midnight. More than half of us will be leaving over the next few days. We learned yesterday that the Bactrians are strengthening their defensive perimeter around Banka in preparation for the parade. The Satrap and his entourage will be right slap bang in the middle of one of their most sensitive zones. We’re going to have to infiltrate through multiple layers of security to get to it, so we plan to sneak through before they reinforce them so much as to make them impenetrable.”
“What will be your part of the assault?” Tamsin asked.
“I’ll be leading the first group to strike. We’ve got to clear the way for two other groups – yours, going up to orbit, and our shuttles heading for Banka. If we don’t get our part right, no-one else can succeed; so we’ll take it slowly and carefully to be sure we get through. Once we’re inside the perimeter we’ll recon possible approaches to our target, then wait for the day. Heaven knows the Bactrians have left enough ruins for us to have no trouble finding holes to hide in!”
Dave reached over and squeezed his father’s arm, swallowing hard as he tried to find encouraging words. “I reckon you’ll make it. You’ve done that sort of thing before.” He had to take a deep breath before continuing. “I guess what you haven’t said yet is that this is goodbye.”
“I’m afraid so.” There were unshed tears in his father’s eyes.
There was a long silence as they looked at each other. Dave eventually broke it with a furiously whispered curse. “Damn! Part of me still wishes I could be with you!”
“I don’t
,” Jake assured him. “When my time comes, I want to be able to look up at the sky with my last breath and wave goodbye to you. I don’t want to see you die, boy. No parent should have to watch his children die.”
Tamsin had tears in her eyes too. “What does one say at a time like this? It’s… this is just too ghastly for words! How the hell do we say goodbye to you, knowing it’s for the last time?”
“I don’t know,” Jake said simply. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to you, either. All I can think of is to tell Dave how proud I am of the man he’s become, and you how proud I am of the woman you’ve become. I wish I could have lived long enough under happier circumstances to see you married, and dandle your kids on my knees while demanding ever more grandchildren in a curmudgeonly tone!” They had to laugh with him.
“Then let’s not say goodbye,” Dave answered firmly. “We may not meet again in this life, but if what the preachers told us before the war is right, there’ll come a time. I like the old legend about the dead crossing the river. I reckon you’ll have plenty of dead Bactrians to form your honor guard and escort you over the water.”
Jake chuckled. “I hope so. If anything goes wrong up there, make sure you provide your own escort when you come to join me, you hear? I’ll buy the first beers on the other side.”
Tamsin shook her head firmly. “I don’t want beer – I want champagne, thank you very much! Not just any old plonk, either; something exotic and expensive.”
“I’ll see what the bars run to in Valhalla,” Jake promised. “However, I hope it’ll be a good long while before I see you there.”
There was another long silence as they sipped their coffee and looked at each other. Finally Dave said, “I guess that’s it, then.” His voice was hoarse, a little choked. “There’s nothing else to say. It hurts like hell to admit that, but… that’s all there is. There should be more, dammit!”
