“THE CONSORTIUM TROOPS DID THEIR BEST to erase the systems on the base AI,” said the Brigadier. “And they’ve made a mess of it, destroying nodes, smashing memory circuits, but my people think it can be repaired and the data recovered.”
The Commodore gazed at the Brigadier’s image in the holo-projection, the concern evident on his face. “I’ll send down a team of data recovery specialists if you can make the place safe for them to examine it. I’ll get Fritz Dieffenbach to sort it out.”
“That’ll be useful. My lads will secure the area for them,” agreed the Brigadier. “And now I have some very positive news. The locals have decided to throw their weight behind us. They’ve turned in a number of people we wanted to talk to. The response on weapons has been good as well. You’d be surprised what has turned up.” He paused then added, “It’s early days, but I think we have a lot of support from the populace. Mind you, I won’t be the first commander on the ground to have misjudged that.”
“Well, let’s hope you’re right this time,” replied the Commodore. “That satellite has turned up a couple of interesting items that Fritz is quite excited about. With a little luck he’ll be able to come up with some counter measures for it.” After a moment, he added, “The governor’s reaction to your latest capture was very interesting.”
“According to the officer I sent to inform him, he seemed very worried. There’s obviously something the man’s not telling us, but I suspect he’ll make a decision soon.”
“When he does, we’d best meet him together,” responded the Commodore. “Something about this whole situation doesn’t make sense. Our friend is a very frightened man, though he seems comfortable enough in the quarters we’ve allocated on board.”
“It’ll probably make even less sense when I tell you that we have a fellow here claiming that he has the support of the colonists to set up a commonwealth—by which he means set up some sort of communal system of shared ownership of everything. His name is Bert Lowe.” The Brigadier considered his next words. “There is some suggestion he’s actually being funded by the Consortium—or at least by someone within it.”
“Sounds like a bit of a chancer if you ask me. What do we know about him? What do the colonists say?”
“According to the files on him in the governor’s office, he’s been a political activist for some time, although he’s managed to stay out of the clutches of the Consortium and the governor’s Civil Guard somehow. One suggestion is that he’s useful to them as evidence of insurrection. He seems to have some grandiose scheme to turn this place into a workers’ commune, and apparently heads up some sort of private army.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. Private armies generally mean trouble and terror tactics.”
“Quite true. So far we haven’t had any trouble from him—come to that, we haven’t actually talked to him face to face, either. He’s out in the hills using a transmitter to broadcast his ideas on the local news channels, whipping up support. Opinion among the colonists is divided. Most seem to think he’s a nutcase—but he did earn some credit resisting the Consortium. I plan to round him up and find out what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Majority opinion seems to be he’s not to be trusted. Apparently, he was a man with big plans for self-enrichment, but when his schemes collapsed, he came up with the idea for this communal living arrangement. As I said earlier—he might be a nutcase, but he’s a damned clever one.”
TO HIS SURPRISE AND ENORMOUS PLEASURE, Harry found himself accompanying Commander Dieffenbach to the surface of Pangaea two days after the arrival of the landing ship docks.
They were approached by ComsRate Kosch. “That coms centre was just the tip of the iceberg, Fritz. The troops have found it was a major command centre, but more important, they’ve captured the AI system more or less intact, with all the signal record.”
“Excellent.” The commander rubbed his hands. “I will soon have those decrypted.” He turned to Harry. “Arrange a transfer for you, me and ComsRate Kosch to the lift dock. We will go down immediately.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Harry’s delight at the prospect showed in his face as he hurried to use his link—still a novelty—to contact the transport officer.
“There’s space on a barge going to the platform in thirty minutes, Mr Heron. Will that do?”
“Aye—yes—that will be in order.”
“Very good. Launch Bay Sierra Six, Barge Fifteen, ten forty-five ship’s time.”
Harry repeated the location and time. “Thank you, sir.” He broke the link and turned to inform Commander Dieffenbach.
“Then we had better hurry. We need to suit up as well. Kosch, zu mehr, bitte!” Without waiting for a response, he strode from the Communications Centre with Harry and the ComsRate in his wake.
The descent in the strange mechanism referred to as a lift from the tethered dock to the surface left Harry feeling slightly queasy as he followed the commander out of the tall multi-decked car. The speed of the descent had given him the feeling that his lower organs were being thrust upward into his throat—not a pleasant sensation, especially as he was enclosed in a full EVA suit for the descent.
“This way, Midshipman.” The commander led Harry to a dressing station. “We change to combat dress here, then we go.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Harry began the process of removing his suit, assisted by a large Marine. “Thank you,” he said as he stepped out of the bulky unit. Wearing only the thin coverall normally worn for EVA, he wondered what was expected now.
The Marine indicated a locker. “You’ll find a full set of combat gear in there, sir. Need help sorting it out?”
“I think I can manage, thank you.” Harry opened the locker and stared at the armoured suit it contained. He’d worn this equipment several times as part of the training they’d undergone, but this was the first time he would wear it in a potentially dangerous situation. Extracting it, he went through the sequence required to step into it then get his arms in, marvelling at how light such a bulky suit could be. Sealing the neck and shoulder opening, he picked up the breast plate section and dropped it into place so that it locked over the arm pieces and the neck guard, forming armoured joints at the shoulder and neck.
The Marine nodded his approval. “Fit the helmet, sir, and do your com check, please.”
With a grin, Harry did as asked, then enquired, “Are we going into battle, Corporal?”
“Negative, sir. But we still have some hostiles loose.” He saw the look of incomprehension. “Sorry, sir. No, we think we have the situation quiet now, but a few of their people are still on the loose.” He saluted as the commander joined them. “The Brigadier’s sent transport and an escort for you, Commander.”
“Come on, Mr Heron. Haben Sie alles, Kosch?” Without waiting for a response, he turned and followed the Marine.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Harry responded automatically, picking up the weapon he’d been handed as soon as he’d donned the armour. “Will I need this?” He made sure the weapon was set to safe mode.
“Yes, better hang on to it. You’ve had training in using it?” The commander asked, checking his own.
“Aye, sir, it is an interesting weapon, and more accurate than any pistol or musket.” Harry was amazed by the power the weapon unleashed—extremely accurate projectiles and bursts of plasma. His instructors had been impressed by his proficiency despite his unfamiliarity with such technology, but he had already been a good shot, and after all, it was a matter of taking aim and firing accurately.
THE ARMOURED VEHICLE LURCHED then swung off to one side. “Some hostiles on approach, Commander. The escort will deal with them.” The Marine lieutenant in command of the transport checked his console. “This area is supposed to be clear. We’re about a half kilometre from the base. We could make a sprint for it, but they might have something else just ahead.”
Fritz Dieffenbach hefted his weapon. “Ja. We will follow your lead, lieutenant.” He glanced at Harry and hi
s ComsRate. “Ready? Do not arm your weapon until ordered.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Harry could not imagine what use he would have for the weapon within the confines of the vehicle, but before he could ponder that further, the sound of explosions, gunfire and the crackle of the heavy turret-mounted projector brought him fully alert and ready to fire when ordered. The vehicle rocked in the blast of an explosion, and debris rattled against the armour. As quickly as it started, it was over, and Harry experienced a sense of anti-climax as the vehicle moved forward again.
“All clear, Commander. We're approaching the entrance to the base now.”
After the excitement of the ambush, the recovery of the crucial data from the AI verged on boring. Even the return to the ship was an anti-climax. He'd seen almost nothing of the planet from the dressing station. The interior of the transport and the captured base had been little more than a series of tunnels. The large circular chamber, the central core of the base AI, was boringly devoid of anything other than the sterile ranks of cabinets housing what the commander called the synapses. Feeling rather useless, he watched as the commander and the ComsRate connected their equipment to carefully selected units and discussed what they were doing in what might have been a totally foreign language to Harry’s ears. Two hours later, the commander disconnected his equipment, and the ComsRate packed it away.
“This will need my team.” Commander Dieffenbach handed Harry several sets of data crystals. “We take these back to the ship. My people can go through the data on board.”
AS HE WAS USHERED INTO THE COMMODORE’S OFFICE, former Governor Kodiak’s fear was tangible.
When the door was closed, he began. “Commodore, we are all in very grave danger. The Consortium has a force on its way to recapture the planet. They have a powerful fleet of ships, every bit as powerful as yours. They won’t let you simply take over. They’ve invested huge amounts of money in the place. It was to be their headquarters while they dealt with the WTO and the Fleet.” Hesitating for a moment, he looked uncertain then blurted, “They have a very special facility somewhere. Only General Welling and his immediate staff know its location.”
“I think we’ve captured all their major bases. We’ll track him down. You must have some idea of its location.”
“All I know is that it isn’t near any major settlement, and it is very well screened.” The pasty-faced man mopped his forehead despite the comfortable temperature. “It could be anywhere on the planet. There are places no one has settled or even surveyed yet on Pangaea.”
Commodore Heron’s face was grim. “We will find their HQ. I can assure you of that.” The intelligence brief had not told even half the story, which led the Commodore to believe that someone in the Intelligence Service was also involved. “Do you know whether this General Welling or his staff have contact with their ships?”
Nodding, the former governor replied, “Yes. Yes! That is what I am trying to tell you. By now, they will have alerted them to your real strength. You can be sure they will be fully prepared to deal with your ships and troops. I tell you, we are in very grave danger, Commodore.”
Chapter 22
Preparations
THE CAPTAINS’ CONFERENCE FASCINATED HARRY. He watched from his seat behind Acting Captain Grenville. He was there to field any incoming communications that might interrupt the conference or to fetch anything the Captain might need. All the other midshipmen present were at least five years his senior, and eyed him with surprise as they arrived, a circumstance that put him very much on his mettle. Now he listened carefully, his note pad in his lap, a partially finished sketch of the Commodore taking up half the page.
“With the governor’s revelations and what Fritz’s team have pulled out of the AI in the base, we have some idea of what we’re facing.” Commodore Heron paused. “Some good news, though. The Fort Belvedere has been redirected. She’ll be with us in a few days, and she has three frigates as an escort. They’re directed to attach themselves to this squadron.”
“So we’re getting more troops at least,” said Captain Grenville. “We’ll need them.”
“Yes, but we’ve still got the problem of double agents on our ships. Fritz has the code names they were using and their ComCode IDs.” Nodding toward Richard, he added, “He’ll provide the details after the meeting. The bad news is their reports indicate our weapons systems may be compromised. I want them checked over immediately by trustworthy teams—but if they find anything, it must not become public. Fix it, note it and watch it. Don’t let the saboteurs get wind it has been detected. If I had my way, they’d all be in the brig right now, but our Security people are playing a double game in the hope of exposing the paymasters. I’ve my own reasons for playing along. It’s damned dangerous, and it means we have to be constantly on our guard, but the longer we can prevent them from learning what we know while encouraging them to think they’ve successfully crippled our systems, the better our chances of pulling off a surprise when we do have to face their main force.”
“Bastards,” muttered the captain of the starship Bellerophon. “I gather there is quite a fight going on in Parliament. Your promotion to Commodore has upset some factions, as has the real strength and reinforcement of our squadron.” Laughing, he glanced at Harry and back to the Commodore. “So has your refusal to hand over certain assets to a research foundation—if it can be called that.” His sarcasm was obvious.
Before replying to the captain, the Commodore glanced at Harry, who now found all eyes on him. “Yes,” said James Heron. “Their MO is profit before humanity, apparently. Harry—Midshipman Heron—and his companions are not and never will be assets for Dr Johnstone’s foundation to do with as they please. As for the row in Parliament, Fleet had to assemble this force to disguise the fact that we had intelligence sources, which gave us a clear indication of what was developing. Plus, the President, the WTO General Secretary and Fleet Council knew what was really going on. They couldn’t reveal it to Parliament since around a third of the members are in the pay of the Consortium. As it is, we have evidence that at least that many of the civil servants, and probably more, are working for the Consortium. At least now it’s out in the open.”
After murmur of agreement ran round the group, the captain of one of the frigates asked, “What about these messages the Siddhiche have planted?”
“Fritz Dieffenbach thinks he’s cracked it. He’s been working with the linguists and the navigation team. We have about three weeks before the Consortium’s force gets here. It’s going to be damned close—our reinforcements are due around the same time—probably a few days behind them.”
“When’s the Belvedere due?”
“Tonight at the latest. She has the Lion, Leopard and Tiger with her as escorts—and they’re to be attached to us as soon as they arrive.” The Commodore gathered his tablet. “One more thing: As soon as we have the weapons systems checked and you’re sure we have them functional and the saboteurs neutralised, arrange to give all personnel a few days’ planetary leave on a strict rotation.” He smiled. “The medics advise it, and our people have earned it. I’ll leave it to you to sort that out—and to decide how you will handle our saboteurs.”
AT HER CONSOLE IN WEAPONS CONTROL, Commander Valerie Petrocova rechecked her readouts, her face white with fury at what she was seeing. She contacted Commanders Dieffenbach and Allison and relayed to them the information she had in her system.
Mary Allison let out her breath slowly. “Whew, I think we can be very glad you found that before attempting to initiate that system. Just a quick look suggests to me that it would create a shunt which, if we were lucky, would only burn out the power cells and the supply system—but if we were unlucky, it would blow away our fore end.”
“Exactly what I thought,” said Valerie Petrocova. “The bastards who did this are going to wish they had never crossed my path. Fritz, I know I can fix this, and I have an idea of who did it, but I need to create the illusion that it is u
ndetected and still in this state. Can you set that up for me?”
“Of course, it’ll be easy to do that, but how will you disguise the physical repair?”
“Leave that to me. One more thing, Fritz—can we arrange a trap for anyone making an unauthorised access to any part of my weapons arrays? I want the traitor caught red handed so I can personally fry him—or her,” she demanded, her fury at this betrayal giving her an icy focus.
“Yes, it will be done. I will see to it immediately, and I shall advise the Captain of our findings.”
“Thanks. That leaves me free to deal with this problem and to search for any other little alterations to the system.” She gave Fritz a brief smile then said to Mary Allison, “Can you run a full set of checks on all the power systems for the weapons emplacements without alerting anyone to them?”
“Tricky, but I think so. I’ll have to find an excuse to cover what we’re doing, but I think I know a man who can be inventive in that line.”
“Great. Look, it will take a couple of hours to get this fixed. Do me a favour and don’t run the power up on the primary until I give an all clear.”
“You got it.” The engineer commander grinned. “The Owner might be a little annoyed if I fried his weapons commander—and I’d rather keep you both on my side.”
Laughing, they deactivated their links and set to work.
COMMANDER PETROCOVA FACED A DILEMMA. Who could she trust to help her with the work of correcting the sabotage? Quickly she ran through her list of staff. She already had a good idea of who the culprit was. She rubbed her temples. “There must have been at least one more of you bastards,” she murmured. “But which one of you is it?”
Harry Heron: Into the Unknown Page 22
