Miranda's Demons

by Ian Miller

  "But –"

  "If you're not out of here in ten seconds, I'll personally scratch your eyes out."

  "Now, look here . . ." He stopped, and the expression on Misako's face finally registered. He turned and fled.

  "Misako, dear. That wasn't very polite."

  "I know, mother," Misako replied in a tired voice, "and I'm not proud of it. But you know," she added, and a slight smile creased her face, "the look on that worm's face at the end did seem to make me feel better."

  Chapter 3

  Gradually, the effects of the day of disaster began to be tabulated. The repair facilities at the junkyard were destroyed, with eight thousand casualties out of the nine thousand men and women. Those who had survived had one thing in common; they had acquired pressure suits, and had taken refuge in various derelict ships, although two thousand of the casualties had also done this, so it was not a total recipe for success. The Ranhyn ship was again severely damaged, but the captured M'starn ship had survived almost without damage, largely since by chance the enemy had not fired into the segment it was in. One piece of good news was that the services, weapons systems, and the propulsion unit on the Ranhyn ship were largely undamaged. Repairs could start again.

  The damage around New Jersey was extraordinary. Seventy per cent of the industrial capacity had been annihilated, there were seven hundred thousand dead, and untold wounded, many of whom would die because the medical facilities were totally inadequate for this task. The transport system was unusable, over ninety per cent of the electricity generation capacity was destroyed, as were most of the water reservoirs and waste treatment facilities. For those who survived, many further horrors were in store. It would be impossible to adequately feed any of the population centres, fuel was impossible to find, and few people had adequate clothing for the bitter weather. Anyone with significant infection could look forward to a slow death. There was no drinking water, and soon sewage would emerge in countless places. The fires would burn for days, and already a pall of smoke obliterated all light. In the filthy half-light of noon, lit occasionally by the strange electrical bolts that discharged randomly through the sky, crowds of civilians were looting whatever they could find, shooting the protesting owners, shooting bystanders, shooting each other. No law, no order, no hope.

  Defence bases across America had been annihilated. Nearly a quarter of the aircraft did get airborne, only to be destroyed when their crews had no reply to the alien technology. Already there was a groundswell of negative opinion; some reporters had noted that while the entire American Defence forces were wiped out, the forces from Tashkent were virtually untouched, as indeed were the central Asian industries. Accusations of collaboration were flying, as well as accusations that the Central Asiatics, noted for their antipathy towards the corporations, were prepared to sacrifice America to take a superior position after the war. What appeared to pass unnoticed, Natasha observed, was that the damage to GenCorp factories was rather slight. They had abandoned New Jersey and some other states decades earlier, and rather thoughtfully the M'starn had concentrated their efforts on just these states.

  The position in South America was also desperate. Over a million people lay dead in Sao Paolo, and it was impossible to tell what damage had been done to the city since the entire basin in which it sat was totally filled with smoke. The entire industrial complex from Cubatao to Santos had been razed, and the great dams across parts of the Amazon, the Parana, and some others had been destroyed, resulting in huge columns of water sweeping across the continent. The mining settlements of the Andes were similarly razed.

  Natasha was bitterly tired. She realized that she had had no more than ten hours sleep in the last three days. She ordered lunch, and was about to leave for her quarters, when there was a knock on the door. Gaius Claudius Scaevola wished to speak with her. She signalled for him to be admitted.

  "Things have been happening while you were away," she said, coldly. "There're the casualty figures."

  "I was afraid of that," Gaius replied. "Going to Mars was a mistake."

  "It was a decision we all took," Natasha replied. "In any case, it was necessary. The Council politics required us to do something. You can't blame yourself for that. It wasn't your decision."

  "Yes, I can, and must. The responsibility for what happens in any battle lies with the overall commander, and that's me. The losses were very heavy."

  "Yes," Natasha replied. "Over two million humans died yesterday."

  "Natasha," Gaius said wearily, "I want you to listen to me for a minute."

  "Yes?"

  "I've been thinking about our last conversation, and you're right. I was out of place, and I'm sorry. No, wait," he said, as Natasha was about to reply. "I want to get one thing straight. I suppose these casualties were almost inevitable, and I guess I expected them, but I promise you, they're not part of my plan. I am not buying anything with human lives. I just can't do anything to stop them."

  "Apology accepted," Natasha smiled, "provided you will accept one from me. It was a cheap shot to point out the likely source of casualties."

  "Pax?" Gaius asked.

  "Pax."

  "What happened in the junkyard?" Gaius asked in the artificial tone of someone breaking a developing awkward silence.

  "Over eighty-eight per cent of our repair forces were killed," Natasha replied in an almost detached tone. The losses had been so bad and she was so tired that she was almost in shock. "The Ranhyn ship was badly damaged, yet again, although it's only to the external body work, so Earth can repair it. I've already sent two thousand men to the yard. Ten per cent of the Ranhynn crew also died, and I've sent my condolences to the commander. I know that won't help much, but I felt I should do it."

  "I think they will respond quite positively to that," Gaius nodded.

  "The decoy worked," Natasha continued, "and the M'starn battle cruiser is still in our hands, now almost operational. We also worked out how to destroy one of their ships, so it wasn't a free victory for them. We've chipped off one enemy ship, and may have damaged another, so perhaps we've come out ahead."

  "The fact your forces can destroy them is good news," Gaius said in a flat tone.

  "You don't seem very enthused about our efforts," Natasha said, a little sourly. "I know our technology's way behind . . ."

  "I'm sorry," Gaius interrupted. "Believe me, I am thrilled to hear it. And please, I'm not trying to run down your efforts here." He leaned forward, and put his head in his hands.

  For the first time since he had entered, Natasha looked at him, and realized how distraught he looked. She leaned forward and took his hand in hers, and said, "Gaius, what's wrong? You look awful. If it's these casualties . . ."

  "No, I'm afraid there was more to that battle than you know about," Gaius said with a very sad tone. "Our trap worked, sort of. One went for the bait, and Lucilla got it. The problem was," he added bleakly, "the enemy also mounted a trap, and I fell for it. I chased the obvious ship, and suddenly Lucilla had three ships to contend with. She was doing very well, and had a plan to take out one further enemy ship and escape when . . ."

  "When?" Natasha asked softly.

  "Some lunatic, presumably from the Earth battle, did his best to collide with me, and when that failed it seems he collided with Lucilla's ship and the freighter at about one twentieth light speed."

  "Oh, I am sorry," Natasha said. "Lucilla? She's . . ?"

  "Presumed dead," Gaius replied. "There was an explosion the likes of which I've never seen before, and for that matter, the Ulsian computers can't explain. Everybody and everything was destroyed. There's only tiny bits of each of the ships left, and nothing of Lucilla's ship, so far must it have been scattered."

  "If there's no sign, perhaps she avoided the collision. Perhaps there's hope?"

  "The fact that there's no sign isn't a cause for hope," Gaius said, as he buried his head in his hands, "although I appreciate what you're saying. But no, if her ship was intact, and with any hope of su
staining life, it would send out a beacon signal. The hulk of a ship that size would be readily detectable for hundreds of thousands of kilometers, and simple mechanics will give you an idea where to look. The only explanation I can think of is that the inertial stabilizing system must have led to the ship dephasing, with the ship breaking up into energy radiation."

  "I'm sorry," Natasha said quietly. She realized this was totally inadequate, but then there was nothing she could say.

  "I chased after the other ships," Gaius said bleakly, "but I didn't achieve much."

  "Please, don't worry about that."

  "You know, Lucilla was so happy at the thought of being able to get back to Earth, and she never really got here. She landed a couple of times; you saw her once, and she walked with me around the ruins of Rome once, but she so wanted to meet a man, marry, have children. And she's gone because of some suicidal lunatic . . ." Gaius stopped, and placed his head in his hands again.

  Natasha walked around the desk, taking a chair with her, to sit beside him. She put an arm on his shoulder, and said, "Gaius, please, keep talking. Say what you feel. If it helps any, from the brief encounter I had, I felt she was a really magnificent woman."

  "She shouldn't have had to die like that," Gaius said, as he looked up, a tear rolling down his cheek. "For so long, for her there was only me and Vipsania, then there was only me. She deserved better."

  "Yes, she did," Natasha said, "but all the same, she was genuinely happy when I saw her. I think she'd want you to get over all this and carry on."

  "It was all a mistake, coming back here," Gaius continued. "It's strange, but on Ulse, the loneliness wasn't so bad, because we were all there was there. But here, there's millions of people, and we might as well be aliens."

  "That's not true," Natasha said. "You are home. It mightn't be the home you used to have, but it's still home."

  "No," Gaius said sadly. "It is not home. I'm a total stranger, in a culture I can't come to grips with. Like the argument we had on Chiron. I got piqued because I could see myself being made redundant from the minor role I have when this is over."

  "When this is over," Natasha said firmly, "something will have to be done to make up for making you redundant. Just let's make sure we win so you can enjoy the fruits of victory."

  * * *

  "Oh hell!" Natasha muttered. "I look ghastly!"

  "Actually," Gaius smiled, "I think you look fine."

  "Actually is probably a word like truly," Natasha snorted. "I need another twenty hours sleep and I last had a hair wash at least three days ago."

  "Even if that were true, nobody'll say a word. That's one of the advantages of being the big boss."

  "It's not as simple as that," Natasha shook her head sadly. "I've got to meet a delegation from Brazil today, and it's important."

  "I'm sure you will be successful."

  "Perhaps, but I really could use some good news. I'm supposed to be defending this planet against an alien invasion, and all I seem to be doing is sitting back and reacting to their moves. I only wish we could do something more positive to make things happen."

  "Then I have a present for you," Gaius said enigmatically.

  "Which is?"

  "We're doing something positive."

  "We are?"

  "Events on Mars are about to come to a head," Gaius explained. "Remember we allowed Hellas to be neutral, and supply the enemy with food?"

  "That decision didn't go down too well on the Council," Natasha reminded him. "That is not entirely what I had in mind when I said I'd like to do something positive."

  "Fair enough," Gaius shrugged his shoulders. "I agreed that Hellas should be neutral, and the enemy could come and go as they wished to get food. So they have, and we have kept our word. There have been no armed forces in the Hellas Planitia. However, I said nothing about allowing their convoys to get back to Syrtis Major."

  "What do you mean?"

  "At first they used the InterMars system, and not unexpectedly, their convoys were harassed. Then they used the eastern approach. That is where the base at the Tyrrhena Patera has come into its own. Once they elected to go that way, they were virtually forced by the terrain to use the Hesperia Planum, to get out of the heavily cratered areas, and that brought them into the zone controlled by our base. We have intercepted two of their giant convoys on the way back to Syrtis Major, and diverted the supplies without any possibility of a message getting back."

  "Any losses?"

  "Really it was no contest," Gaius shrugged. "Once the convoys came into that zone, the Ranhynn weapons were overwhelming. They may not be much against the M'starn battle cruisers, with their heavy shielding, but against non-shielded opponents, one warning blast to melt a few tonnes of rock led, in each case, to an instant surrender."

  "So the enemy is annoyed?"

  "More than that. They're out of supply. Syrtis Major will now be becoming hungry. My guess is that they will have to do something very soon, or they'll simply have to give in. This time, I don't think the M'starn will be able to help in any way because they're still not ready . . ."

  "How do you know that?" she asked curiously.

  "Because the ships they sent on the last raid were still showing obvious signs of damage. That can only mean they still have no ships fully repaired."

  "It might only mean they didn't want to risk re-damaging good ones," Natasha pointed out.

  "In which case they still won't want to send a few ships to Mars," Gaius pointed out, "and if they do, our main strategy may apply. I think the Brownshirts will have to do it all themselves. Their only alternative to surrender is to launch an all-out attack, hoping for one decisive victory. This time we shall be ready for them."

  "It doesn't win the overall war," Natasha reminded him.

  "No, but it will raise you in the Council's eyes," Gaius smiled. "It will also have a very adverse effect on the morale of the traitors on Earth. It may even precipitate some ill thought out moves on their part. In any case, it is better to be moving forwards than moving backwards."

  Chapter 4

  Natasha Kotchetkova glanced at herself in the mirror, readjusted her uniform, and then marched smartly to the small meeting room. She was to meet the delegation from Brazil, and while there was little she could offer to reassure the Brazilians, she recognized this would be an important meeting. She smiled radiantly to Gaius, who was waiting outside the room for her, and they marched in together.

  Names were interchanged, and Natasha watched with amusement the looks on the Brazilian's faces when Gaius was introduced. They sat down.

  "I'm very sorry to hear of the damage done to Brazil, and other South American countries," Natasha opened. "Unfortunately, there wasn't much we could do to stop it."

  "Commissioner," the Economics Minister said gravely, "we know you have wished to bring the independent countries into the Federation, and bring about a unification of the planet. The fact that you could not defend us does not make that easier, from our point of view."

  "With all due respect, sir," Natasha replied carefully, "while you remain outside the Federation, we have no obligation to do so. I should also add that even though you feel you have sustained considerable damage –"

  "There is no doubt about that," the Minister interrupted. "Brazil has lost eighty per cent of its chemical industry. The city of Sao Paolo had over a million killed in the first few hours. The central city is a total disaster zone –"

  "And the Federation has also suffered," Natasha interrupted. "I am not trying to understate the damage you have sustained, but you should not feel this was simply directed solely at you."

  "Nevertheless, the fact remains you cannot defend yourselves, and equally, you cannot defend us."

  "I cannot prevent the M'starn from sending further attacks," Natasha said gravely. "However, we are not defenceless. Even in this last attack, the enemy lost four ships. Prior to this attack, we had no idea what their weaknesses were. We have made progress, and since they are an
isolated force, unable to receive fresh supplies, the loss of four ships represents about fifteen per cent of their total force, and that is not an inconsiderable loss. We shall fight, irrespective of what you decide, but it would be helpful if you could bring yourselves to encourage your countries to join the Federation."

  "It is all very well for you to believe you will prevail," the Minister said quietly, "but the question remains, how?"

  "Commissioner, if I could answer?" Gaius interposed. When Natasha nodded, he said, "Nobody can give you any assurances there won't be any more attacks, but in the long term, we only have one option, and that is to defeat the enemy. I intend to do that. Unfortunately, I can't tell you how, and to some extent, you'll have to trust us."

  "Trust you! That's easy for you to say," the Defence Minister said, "but the fact is, you don't have our interests at heart. From what I've heard, the officer we sent to you for training has been treated like dirt."

  "That's not true," Natasha said simply.

  "We can only tell you what we've heard."

  "Then you'll have to rethink your view," Natasha said, and rung a buzzer on the end of the table. The door opened, and Marisa's head appeared.

  "Father!" she cried out, and leaped across the room to hug the Economics Minister. "You should have told me you were coming."

  "You should have written."

  "I guess I was too busy," Marisa said sheepishly.

  "They tell us that you're having a bad time here."

  "It's busy," Marisa replied, then added in a bubbly tone, "but guess what? I'm going to have a major part in winning this war."

  "Marisa! Don't exaggerate! "

  "It's true!"

  "It is true," Gaius interposed. "Your daughter has very unusual skills, and she's very brave. When this is all over, you'll be very proud of her."

  "Marisa, if you're unhappy in any way . . ."