by Nick Webb
Granger shrugged. No need to admit that they, in fact, already passed right through the middle of Russian territory. Thank god for the finite speed of light—otherwise ships passing though space a lightyear out might actually be detectable.
“It was a very long voyage, sir. But we decided it would be worth it, as we’ve recently received intelligence that there may be Swarm activity in this sector. Seen any recently?”
Griega smiled broadly. “No. You? Looks like you’ve seen some action.”
Granger stroked his stubble. “Of course. The Warrior sees action almost every day. Unlike some allies I know.”
Griega held up his hands. “Come now, Granger. I can assure you our efforts against the Swarm are as varied and effective as yours. You just don’t always see them.”
Right.
“Oh? How many ships have you lost? Any systems? Surely you’ve lost a planet or two. We lost the entire Cadiz Sector just a few weeks ago.”
Griega let his face contort into the best show of empathy Granger supposed he could muster. “Yes, that was most unfortunate. You have our deepest sympathies. President Malakhov has spoken directly to President Avery concerning the matter and extended his sympathies as well.”
Granger chuckled ironically. “It would be even better if you extended some of your fleets. Contribute to the war effort. We’d win a whole lot faster that way.”
“Extend fleets? To you? And what would you do with them? No, Captain Granger, we are having enough trouble with the Swarm as it is without divvying out our ships to those who throw them away as if they were old, broken toys. Or bricks, from what I hear. How many have you thrown away this week, Brick-layer?”
Granger’s eyes shot daggers at the man. Griega’s face of sympathy contorted back to a wry smile.
“Now then, Captain. It is time you got on your way. Lots of Swarm out there.”
Granger set his jaw defiantly. “What are you doing in this system, Mr. Vice President?”
“Directing the war effort, Captain. And that is all you need to know. Leave immediately.”
“As we’ve already agreed, this is not your territory, Mr. Vice President. We are on an intelligence gathering mission, and it so happens that this system is one of those we want more intelligence on.”
Griega frowned. “No. You will leave immediately. Let us not allow this to become a … diplomatic incident. God knows you’ve had your share of those, Captain Granger.”
The emphasis on his rank spoke volumes. He was trying to get under Granger’s skin. Remind him of his past. His history with the Russians. The Khorsky incident from a dozen years ago came freshly to his mind.
“Any incident that happens will be from Russian recklessness, Mr. Vice President. I assure you our intentions are to surveil the Swarm, and to defeat them. Not to spy on Russian interests.”
“It is not your intentions I doubt, Mr. Granger. It is your competence.”
The words hung in the air like a shouted challenge, though they were spoken with the cool, arrogant veneer of a career politician.
“Sir,” began Lieutenant Diaz. Granger motioned for Ensign Prucha to mute. “We’re reading roughly two hundred cruisers changing orbits to intercept us. Another two hundred already in our vicinity.”
Damn. They had to get out of there. He was outgunned, and outmatched. For now.
He motioned to Prucha again to un-mute and turned back to the screen before glancing up at Proctor at the science station. She flashed him a hand with all fingers extended. Five. Fine—he could stall for five more minutes, if it meant she could get a more detailed meta-space scan of the vicinity, in the hopes of nailing down possible Swarm-Russian communications. “Very well, Mr. Vice President, we will leave. We’ve expended our capacitor banks on the voyage here. It will take several minutes to recharge, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Griega nodded, and the signal terminated. Granger blinked—that was easier than he thought it would be. Clearly the other man knew little about IDF capacitor technology. The Warrior’s capacitor banks were already sufficiently recharged within a minute of showing up in the system.
He nearly called up to Proctor to ask for an update on her scans, before remembering that they needed to keep it quiet from the bridge crew. At least until they could figure out who was under Swarm influence, and who was clear. A few minutes later she looked up. “Done, sir.”
Granger stepped up to Ensign Prince and tapped his shoulder. “Signal the fleet. Q-jump us out of here on the previously decided heading.”
Within moments, the Russian ships and the oceanic planet disappeared, and the star pattern changed. He motioned to Proctor and pointed to his ready room. When they’d closed the door, he turned to her. Finally, they’d have their evidence against the Russians. Finally, they could either expose them and shame them into cooperating, or use the knowledge to disrupt their activities, somehow. Sabotage the Swarm-Russian relationship. Anything to finally put the Swarm off-balance and gain the initiative.
“And?”
“I did a full meta-space scan of all the Russian ships in the vicinity, accounting for the phase shift I discovered while listening to Vishgane Kharsa.”
“And?” he repeated.
She sighed. “Nothing. Not one peep.”
Chapter 48
Washington D.C., Earth
Vice President’s Residence
Isaacson snorted. “You actually think Avery is taking forces away from the main fleets, hiding them, and secretly planning to attack Russian targets? Have you lost your mind? We’re fighting an existential galactic war here, Yuri. This is no time for petty global politics.” Isaacson sat back in his chair, disgusted. He’d known the other man for years now, and had supposed him to be rational and logical. Cold and calculating, sure. But this?
“Global politics?” Volodin sneered. “Try galactic politics. There is far more at stake here than whether humanity wins this war next month versus next year, and Avery knows it. The war has violently disrupted the social order, and Avery, to her credit is using the current climate to advance her political agenda. If there was ever going to be a time to attack us and have the support of the people to do it, it is now. This is not a joke, Eamon. Hundreds of millions of Russian lives are on the line here.”
Yuri was leaning in close to the camera, filling its screen with his jowled, pitted face. He sounded genuinely agitated. Almost like he believed what he was saying. Could it be?
“All right. Give me your evidence. Tell me what you know.”
Yuri nodded. “I can’t tell you everything, of course. We have to keep our methods and sources classified.”
“Of course,” replied Isaacson with a wink.
“The story goes back to the Eagleton Commission. It was her campaign promise to modernize the military and cut back on unnecessary expenses. Ran on scaling back the military’s footprint, making it more efficient, yada yada. She practically ran as a pacifist dove.”
The words sounded like an epithet from the sound of Volodin’s voice. “And it worked. People across the fifty-five worlds of United Earth were sick of over half a century of massive military spending, with its concurrent waste, fraud, abuse, and with nothing to show for it. You still didn’t know where the Swarm came from. You still had no assurances you’d be safe in the event of their return. People were angry. They thought the Swarm had disappeared forever. It was their grandparents’ problem. A ghost from the past. And so what did they do? They elected Avery. Kind, no-nonsense, truth-talking grandma. Spoke common sense. Shot from the hip. Called it like she saw it, and all that nonsense. Folksy. Spoke up for the common man. Blah blah blah—you westerners never change. Your folksy, homespun wisdom, common-sense politicians never really work out the way you think they will, do they?”
Isaacson rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, Yuri. What’s the intel?”
“Getting there, Eamon.” Volodin paused, reached off-screen to pick up a mug, poured something in from a bottle, and took a long drau
ght. “So you got your folksy grandma of a president, and she immediately started fulfilling her promises. Instigated the Eagleton Commission, and began implementation of its recommendations.” He took another drink. “Except that was just a front, wasn’t it?”
“It was?” Isaacson shook his head. “No it wasn’t. I spent five years opposing her at every turn. Nearly a third of my senate career. I was so successful that she eventually chose me as her running mate for her second term to appease my party. If she hadn’t, she’d have been a one-termer. Believe me, Yuri, if there was anything she was committed to, it was a reduction in military spending.”
“She may have reduced total spending, Eamon. Maybe not—I think you’d be surprised how easy it is to hide money in military budgets. But while she reduced what the public saw, she built up in private. All with the goal of one day striking at us hard. She’d find a way, a pretense, to make it happen. Some conjured-up emergency or incident, that would give her cover to make her move. Do you have any idea how many secret military bases you have, even just within continental North America?”
Isaacson squirmed. Yuri had at least that part right. How many more Wendover sites were there? Squaretop Mountains? Were there dozens more? A hundred? Colonel Titler had said that his site was built years ago, right near the beginning of Avery’s first term. And these were just the ones in North America. What about the rest of the fifty-five United Earth worlds? Britannia? New Dublin? Lahore? Some of what Volodin was saying did make some sense.
“I see I’ve struck a chord,” said Volodin. “The pieces fit together, don’t they? I’m beginning to wonder if somehow Avery herself has orchestrated this whole Swarm invasion, just as a pretense for invading us. You watch—she’ll blame it on us. There are already rumblings from representatives in the United Earth council that she is suggesting as much behind our backs.”
“But Yuri, didn’t we instigate the Swarm invasion? You and I? We practically invited them here to Earth as a distraction of our own. To discredit Avery and get rid of her.”
Volodin smiled. “Sure. But did you really think that we were the only ones who’ve been in contact with the Swarm? You’ll recall that we only invited them to come as far as the Jupiter outposts. Rough things up a bit, scare everyone into dumping Avery, then leave. You’ll also recall that that was not what happened. Don’t you remember their reply to my inquiry? You were there. You die—those were the exact words. Sounds to me like Avery got wind of what was happening—possibly because she’s got a relationship with the Swarm as well—and decided to use this as her pretense for war. Invite the Swarm in, encourage them to focus their attacks on the United Earth worlds, basically ignore the Russian Confederation, then use that as an excuse to preemptively strike us.”
Isaacson raised an eyebrow. “A false flag attack? You think she’s capable of something like that?”
“Of course she’d be willing to order a false flag attack. It’s practically a United Earth tradition. Don’t you remember your history, Eamon? Twentieth century. Cold war. President Kennedy’s generals proposed bombing civilian targets in Florida and along the east coast, then finger the Cubans. What a great pretense for war that would have been, no? Twenty-third century. United Earth President Veracruz secretly detonated several nuclear devices on Merida Prime. Started the first Interstellar War that way. Believe me, Eamon, she’s capable of it.”
“Fine,” Isaacson held a hand up. “If it’s true—and I’m not saying I believe it is—what do we do about it?”
Yuri smiled. “It’s clear from our sources on Britannia that there is a buildup of forces around Calais—one of the moons orbiting a gas giant in that system. Britannia is very close to Russian space. We believe she is going to strike many targets at once, and soon. Something called Operation Battle-ax. But we can’t move against her without concrete evidence. That is something that you can provide—one of two things.”
“So you’re going to preemptively strike, Yuri? I may have been willing to get rid of Avery, but I’m not about to sell out my country.”
Volodin nodded. “I understand that. Don’t worry, we won’t strike unless struck. But we will take measures to defend ourselves. And who knows—once she sees that the defenses of her targets are far greater than she supposed, it may scare her off. Make her think twice.”
“Sure. Operation Battle-ax,” he said, trying to remember if he’d heard the term before. “And the other thing? Assuming this is all not a complete fantasy of yours?”
“The other thing, of course, is to disable her method of attack.”
“And what is that?”
“Her new weaponry she’s invested in. The anti-matter devices. If we can neutralize that threat, Eamon, we’ll save millions of Russian lives. Not to mention the lives of millions of your own citizens, since there won’t have to be a war between us, as there surely would be if we were attacked. Think of it—rather than just be responsible for the countless dead in Miami, New Orleans, and Phoenix, instead you would be the savior of tens of millions. Who knows—you could very well be the savior of the entire human race, since if there is war between us right in the middle of this current assault by the Swarm, we may not survive.”
Savior. Yuri was right—he had to save all those people. He’d spent the last two months privately dealing with the devastating fact that he’d possibly caused needless death among his own people. Isaacson was fine with individual deaths when politically necessary, but it’s not like he was some kind of crazy war monger. If it was true that Avery was the one truly responsible for the invasion of Earth, well, that changed everything. He knew he was a good man, and this would prove it to everyone. Himself included. Savior—he liked that word. Much better than opportunistic genocidal maniac.
“Ok, Yuri. I’ll get your proof. And if it turns out to be true, I’ll put a stop to it. And finally get ol’ grandma Avery out of the way.”
Yuri smiled one last time. “Good. Thank you, Eamon. I always knew you were a great man. And soon, you’ll be a great president.”
Chapter 49
Near Penumbra System
Bridge, ISS Warrior
Granger ordered the fleet to q-jump out a dozen more steps so they’d be sufficiently far away enough from Penumbra to not have to worry about running into either Swarm or Russian ships. Or Dolmasi, for that matter. Their enemies were multiplying at an alarming rate.
The other captains gathered in the conference room just down the hall from the bridge. Granger sat down with them, a star map splayed out on the wall, and everyone stared forlornly at it. They’d sent scout ships discreetly out to a dozen neighboring systems. Most came back empty—no signs of Swarm, Russian, or Dolmasi activity. One came back and reported suspicious activity around one planet in the Volari System. No visible ships, but plenty of electromagnetic activity coming from the planet itself, indicative of civilization.
But it was fifty lightyears deeper into Swarm territory. Or at least, what they supposed was Swarm territory.
“What have we got to lose?” asked Captain Connelly of the Eddington, commander of Gamma Wing.
“Our fleet, for one. Not to mention our lives,” replied Captain Barnes.
Granger nodded. “It’s risky, I agree. But this entire mission was based on the premise that this was an acceptable risk. That it was worth it to the rest of IDF that we put them on the run. That we send them notice that our conflicts won’t be limited to our space any longer. If Volari Three really is a Swarm planet, I say we hit it, and hit it hard. Rain what anti-matter pods and nukes we have onto the surface. That’ll catch their attention all right.”
A few of the captains nodded. Several shook their heads. Granger had operational command of the mission, but he wanted unity. He didn’t want to force the other captains into something they thought was foolhardy. Not with a decision this big. He’d give the order if he had to, but he knew their chances of success were always greater when all the commanders believed in the mission. He’d have to sell it better.
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“Did the scout take any visuals of Volari Three? Did it get close enough?”
Lieutenant Diaz nodded. “They stayed three astronomical units out, but yes, visuals were taken.”
“Let’s see them.”
Diaz fiddled with the controls on the desk and soon the image of their potential target flashed onto the wall.
It was a greenish gray globe, with several large lakes—big enough to be seas, but not quite oceans—dotting the surface.
Granger gasped.
Though it was slightly grainy, the likeness was unmistakable. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, but it was.
“That’s it,” he whispered.
“Excuse me, Tim?” said Captain Barnes.
“That’s it. That’s the homeworld. Volari Three.” He stared at it. The familiar feelings he’d experience in his dream and during his brief contact with Vishgane Kharsa came flooding back to him.
“What do you mean, that’s the homeworld? How can you possibly know that?”
“I just know,” he murmured, still staring at the vast lakes peaking up through the sparse white clouds. It matched the image from his persistent dream. And he was certain, absolutely dead certain.
Volari Three: he’d been there before.
Chapter 50
Near Penumbra System
Science Laboratory, ISS Warrior
“Tim, what if it really is just a dream?”
“It’s not just a dream, Shelby.”
The captains had returned to their ships with Granger having argued them to an impasse. It wasn’t rational, he knew—there was no reason he could give to convince them that the planet was, truly, the Swarm homeworld.
But he remembered how he felt in that dream—dammit, it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. A memory that was somehow made more intense by the touch of the Dolmasi. And in that memory—yearning. Excitement. He remembered feeling those things. Getting up from that examination table and looking down on that planet from that window and knowing, just knowing, that he was looking at the homeworld. The point of origin of the Swarm. The source of all their problems.
