Miranda's Demons

by Ian Miller

  "There's no need for you to know that," Natasha replied.

  "What about food and provisions?" Reiner asked. "Is there any way of our helping them?"

  "Earth cannot assist Mars at the moment in any way," Natasha replied with a tone of sadness in her voice. "However, Defence did secrete emergency provisions on Mars in a number of dumps, and the location of some of these has been sent to these people, with instructions to make them available if any resistance develops."

  "And just why can't Defence do more?" A question from the Moon bases representative.

  "Defence has occasionally raised the possibility of an alien invasion, and the need to be prepared," Natasha explained. "Each time the Council has refused to consider the possibility as real. Consequently, the budget allocated to developing the appropriate weapons, ships, and other technology has been inadequate. Since they haven't been developed, we can't use them."

  There was an immediate general protest from the other representatives. Commissioner Kotchetkova held up her hand. "I agree with you," she said. "At the time, the decision was the correct one. Earth had many better things to do than spend valuable resources building defence systems for a problem that seemed a one in a billion chance of ever happening. Defence raised the budget requests because it was our duty to do so. You turned them down because it was your duty to do so. I'm not blaming you; all I'm saying is, it's not really Defence's fault either. Nobody could foresee this."

  "I agree entirely." The President suddenly came to life, and even exude a little authority. "There's absolutely nothing to be gained by looking into who didn't do what. We've got a problem, and the question is, what do we do?"

  "What can we do?" protested a couple of representatives.

  "Fairly simple," the President said. "Surrender, negotiate, or fight."

  "Actually, there is one further option," Commissioner Kotchetkova stated. "So far, the M'starn haven't approached us. We can devote the time to preparing. Defence is currently examining strategy, training men and women, and we are looking at whatever options we can think of regarding weaponry."

  "I concur," remarked the Justice Commissioner. "There's no need to consider surrender until we are faced with no other choice. And we can't negotiate until we can find someone to negotiate with."

  "From what you've said, though, the situation is hopeless." Reiner again, Natasha noted.

  "We can't tell," Natasha replied, "until we've studied it further."

  "But you've got no effective weapons?"

  "We don't know. What we do know is that the M'starn attacked an essentially defenceless planet, with few settlements, all of which were highly vulnerable because they're on the surface of a planet with inadequate atmospheric. For some reason, they left Theppot alone, so perhaps their ambitions are limited."

  "Perhaps these aliens are only taking what they want," the representative of ChinaCorp mused.

  "That's all very well," the representative for the settlers of Mars muttered, "but it's Mars they seem to want."

  "Order!" the President called. "There's no suggestion we abandon the citizens of Mars."

  "What I meant," the representative of ChinaCorp said, "is the aliens may only be taking what they need. It is possible that once they have fulfilled those needs, they'll go away."

  "It's also possible," the Lunar representative pointed out, "that they're limiting themselves until they can build up strength for a more complete takeover. They may merely need more weapons to conquer the Earth."

  "There's more to it," interrupted the Environment Commissioner, Imre Halas. "If the M'starn really were to take over this planet, it may be their life form is incompatible with ours. They may have to sterilize the entire planet to use it openly. If that's the case, and it is quite possible, I can't see we have any option but to fight."

  Everybody looked in astonishment at the member who had been possibly the strongest advocate against military expenditure.

  "I mean it," he said harshly. "So far, all we know is they keep away from humans and there's no sign they want anything like an accommodation. Chances are they would be vulnerable to our bacteria, or perhaps our food is poisonous to them. They've made no friendly overtures so either they're hostile, or they'll leave us all alone. "

  "I think we have to assume they're unfriendly," Natasha added, nodding gratefully to her newfound ally.

  "Exactly. So why aren't they attacking us now?"

  "Perhaps, because as our Lunar representative suggested, they're building up," Natasha offered.

  "Exactly. So they're giving us the same amount of time. I think we should use it."

  Surprisingly, the Council agreed. The vote was unanimous, although Natasha noted that Reiner had looked across to Munro before voting. Defence, for the first time in its formal existence, had more money than it knew what to do with.

  "Mr President," Munro held up his hand to prevent the meeting from dissolving, "there is another issue."

  "This special meeting has only one agenda item," the President said with full self-importance, "and we have dealt with that. Implementation is the duty of the Commissioner."

  "Not entirely," Munro continued. "There is the question of who will command. Field commander is clearly a separate position from administrative head, and it is the Council's responsibility to make that appointment."

  "That is true," the President noted. "Have you anyone in mind?"

  "I think General Streckov would be the most senior officer," Munro said easily.

  "Mr President," Natasha rose to her feet, "it had been my intention to take this task for myself."

  "With all due respect," Munro said craftily, "we need the Commissioner's excellent skills fully devoted to the job of providing the wherewithal to fight. The two jobs are separate, and too much for one person. General Streckov could easily take up this second task."

  "Is Commissioner Kotchetkova physically up to dealing with either?" Chu asked. Natasha winced inwardly. He could not know of her current problem, but sooner or later, her health would be an issue.

  "General Streckov has never been in space," Elizabeth Garrett noted dryly. "Would that not be an impediment?"

  "Do we have to take a decision now?" Lorenz Kleppe asked.

  "If the future of the planet is important," Munro replied tartly. "Enemy action could come any time, and it's too late afterwards to . . ."

  "I disagree," Natasha interrupted. "Until we know how we intend to fight, it's a decision we can leave."

  To her relief, the decision was deferred. But the meeting had ended in disaster, for she knew she could not pass any physical test. She quickly gathered her papers, to get out of the room before anyone could question her. Her impetuous rush towards the door went unnoticed by all but Elizabeth Garrett. Kotchetkova had given her a nod as she left. Was that an invitation? She was about to chase after her, when the Lunar representative grasped her arm. A really urgent problem! The Tycho rights dispute of 2269 . . . Elizabeth sighed as she resigned herself to yet another account of this festering sore. So meaningless, but there was a Council vote at stake.

  Chapter 4

  "Pennlington!"

  Pennlington jumped to attention, and turned towards the voice, a major in charge of flight training. "Sir!" he said, and saluted smartly.

  "At ease!" the major nodded, after returning the salute. "I need you to do me a favour."

  "Sir?"

  "As you may have guessed, we are soon to go into space, but one of your squad has yet to qualify. I want you to help."

  "Of course, sir," Pennlington replied. His first reaction was that this would be the Brazilian woman. That could be a difficult assignment, but a military officer could hardly back out of that sort of danger.

  "It's Lansfeld," the Major continued.

  "What?" Pennlington gasped. "I mean," he recovered, "I thought he spent more time on the simulators than anyone, and he can fly, and . . ."

  "Exactly so," the Major grinned. "He flies on the simulators like a madman. He has
only one speed, and that's flat out. That is hardly what we're looking for."

  "No sir! Definitely not," Pennlington agreed.

  The major stared balefully at Pennlington, then continued, "My guess's the smart little bugger's getting extra practice for the competitions."

  "Oh!" Pennlington said. It had never occurred to him that training for some of the more obscure high speed flying competitions might be desirable.

  "So what I want you to do is have a word with him. He needs to clock up his 'accident-free hours', then get his space wings as quickly as possible. If I have to tell him, it's a black mark, so if you could have a word . . ."

  "Of course, sir."

  * * *

  A week later, Harry had successfully taken a craft into space, docked it, and returned. All of alpha squad were now certified to fly into space in the small interceptors. As someone remarked, they were now qualified to commit suicide.

  Chapter 5

  At last, the time of the course work was coming to an end, and the exercises and the contests were to begin. Alpha squad was given the first exercise, the defence of the space station Columbus.

  Columbus was shaped like an ancient beer barrel with a large pipe protruding from one end on the rotational axis. The "barrel" was forty-two kilometers long, a maximum diameter of thirty kilometers, it had a mass of 180 trillion tonnes, and it rotated at such a speed that at the mid-point, the centrifugal force gave an acceleration outwards similar to the gravitational effect on Earth. Towards the ends, before the "near-vertical" walls rose towards the centre, the outer acceleration fell off by one quarter, and there was an even greater fall in air pressure. Light and heat for the station was controlled through the great vanes running through the centre. No light came directly from outside, as the outer shell was encased in a composite of rock and space cement, but sunlight was brought from the outer collectors by a complex of fibre optics. There were two great lakes on the "equator" and small streams flowed down from the "higher" regions. The heat balance was adjusted so that water evaporated and circulated to the higher regions, where it fell as rain, or, under some conditions, snow.

  Entrance to Columbus was made through the "pipe" on the rotational axis at one end; the other end was used to introduce services, energy, and extra materials. Gas pressure was very low on the rotational axis, but it could still escape through the access port, and there were two means of preventing that. The first involved a zone that ionized gas, following which powerful electromagnetic fields threw the gas back into Columbus. The second involved a sequence of shutters that sealed the access way when no shuttles wanted to come in and out. It was not completely efficient, and fresh gas had to be introduced from time to time.

  Some thought had been given to the defence of these space stations. In principle an attacker with a sufficiently advanced weapon might be able to vaporize part of the station, leading to depressurization and loss of all life. There seemed to be little point in considering this because there was nothing Earth could do to stop it. If, on the other hand, the attacker wished to have a working station at the end, then the attacker would presumably enter the station through the normal entrance. After some thought, it was decided that the shutters would be opened if alien ships were seen; there was no point in demanding that the aliens destroy the station.

  So the strategy for the exercise was simple: they would defend, at least in the exercises, inside the colony. Accordingly, small invader craft would be permitted entry. It was then assumed these would keep close to the walls of the station, if for no other reason than if they kept to the centre they would be targets for the one conventional defence that could be mounted. The problem for using weapons was the problem of misses, which would continue to the far side, where there were settlements. The one situation where this did not matter was if the weapons were fired approximately along the rotational axis when it would be possible to set up a means of reflecting beams such that there would be a 'zone of death' in the centre of the station, or along the central axis. This was so obvious that it was assumed that the invader would also realize this, and would enter and immediately leave the central axis. In turn, that meant that the invader would run down the walls at the entrance end as quickly as possible. So the strategy was to rely on an unconventional defence. A giant Coriolis storm would be engineered in the hope that the invading craft could be dashed against the walls of the station, when ground forces could attack the invaders. There had been considerable debate whether this scenario had any realism at all, but that did not matter. The scenario did make a useful exercise.

  Alpha squad thus found themselves on the "mountain slope" as a Coriolis storm was building up. Their task was to locate and attack mythical beings in the storm. Once the storm was well underway, "crash coordinates" would be signalled to the squad, and they would have to make their way as quickly as possible to the site. To make the exercise more realistic, a drone would be let loose into the storm, and the drone would attempt to avoid crashing. The squad members were, of course, unarmed, in part because of the problem of 'misses', but also because there was nothing to shoot at in the exercise. How to actually fight in this scenario was a problem Defence had yet to solve.

  The squad were donning their white pressure suits, which, besides being the best means of keeping out the wind and cold, were also needed since the shortest distance to the far side involved going though the low pressure zone on the axis of the station. The squad was joking quietly, but they were very serious. They were the first, so they had to set a high standard.

  They were based in the sports hall complex. It was here that in the formal "winter", when snow was synthesized, that skiing was held, while in the "summer" period, the region held two of the more difficult sports ever devised: archery and javelin throwing. As a consequence of the steep slope and the lack of genuine gravity, a javelin could be thrown an enormous distance, at least by Earth standards. But javelin throwing was not about distance; it was about accuracy; the objective was to get as close as possible to the target. The problem was that of perception.

  All parts of the space station rotated at the same rate, so all parts seemed "fixed" in relation to each other. "Downhill" was, of course, further from the centre, so its path of rotation was longer, which meant that, to get around in the same time, it had to go faster. So, if one threw the javelin and focussed solely on it, the javelin seemed to go "straight", but the target in the background glided out of the way. If on the other hand, the eye was kept on the target, the javelin seemed to curve back. A cruder way to demonstrate this "force" on new male arrivals was to fill them up with beer and take them to a particularly difficult urinal. This was even fun for visitors from other stations; these hardened souls "knew it all" for after all, they lived with it. Not quite! No two stations were the same size and shape, so no two stations had quite the same "force". So, for javelin throwing, or any ball game, there was a very substantial "home-ground" advantage.

  The squad watched with anticipation, as would many in the space station, as the clouds grew in intensity. The storm was supposed to work on the same principle. Heat was poured into a spot, and the air would rise. Air would have to flow "downhill" to fill the space, but since it was not rotating as fast, it started to curve back, while the hot air, nominally rotating faster, would move to take the cold air's place. Very quickly circular air movement would commence, and in theory the location of the eye of the storm could be controlled from the location of the energy input. Of course nobody could be certain what was going to happen, since no Coriolis storm of this intensity had ever been attempted. There had been a number of protests, however protesters and advocates had one thing in common; not a whisper of the proposal or the debate left Columbus. This had nothing to do with imposed security. The stories from Mars had no effect; the population had no concept of war. What was important was that an experiment on a space station was private to the inhabitants. Eventually a sanitized documentary might be permitted to leave, but until then no Terran would lau
gh at any official of Columbus.

  The Comscreen flashed. Van Lugt, as group commander for the exercise turned on the channel. To nobody's surprise, Mike Pennlington's image slowly came into focus. He had been designated as Defence coordinator.

  "Alpha squad," Pennlington's voice came through in such a grave tone that titters of laughter spread through the squad. "Two alien ships are approaching this station. Three small craft have separated and are approaching the entry port."

  Roars of laughter spread throughout alpha squad. Even Harry was found leaning against a post, shaking his head.

  "Alpha squad," Pennlington went on, "this is not an exercise. I repeat, this is not an exercise. Do you understand!"

  A total look of disbelief ran through the squad. Van Lugt quickly grasped the microphone. "Mike, what the hell's got into you?"

  "Van Lugt," an exasperated Pennlington called back. "Please observe proper communication protocol! I am your commander for the day, and I repeat my message. This is not an exercise. Columbus is being approached by three small alien scout ships, which look as if they are about to enter. The scenario is more or less what was anticipated, except it's real!"

  "You're not joking," van Lugt stated with a tone of partial amazement.

  "I don't know how many times I've got to say this, but this is not an exercise. Now, get out of there."

  "Yes sir," van Lugt said, as he pulled himself together. "We shall continue with the counter attack. Get the storm going!"

  "You'll do nothing of the sort," came an exasperated voice. "You're not armed. Now, get out of there while you can."

  "If what I've heard from Mars is true, we're all dead anyway, so we're going to fight."

  "Do you really think you can?" came an amazed Pennlington.

  "If you give us a big enough snow storm. We need the visibility down to a minimum. Our best chance is to get right up on them before they see us. More chance now than any other time, anyway."

  "If you're sure," came the reluctant reply, after a long pause. "We'll give you your storm. Good luck, you guys. You'll need it. And Shelley, don't you dare get yourself killed. You owe me you know what!"