Crimson Worlds Collection III

by Jay Allan

  An army of clones, he thought. He had nowhere near the information he needed, but the thought of Gavin Stark controlling thousands of manufactured soldiers scared him to death. Stark didn’t do things by half-measures, and Vance knew it had to be part of an overall plan. Anything of this scope with Stark behind it had to be more than a problem, it had to be a disaster.

  Unless Stark was dead. He glanced back at the screens, his eyes focusing on the smoke rising above the city. Was it possible? Could this really be some random act of terrorism that rid the world of Gavin Stark? Vance allowed himself one excited moment before he discounted the possibility. That would be a very convenient course of events, he thought. Indeed, it could very well be Stark himself behind this attack. It would be a brilliant way to cover his tracks when the economy collapsed, something Vance expected any day now. No, he wouldn’t believe Stark was dead. Not unless he had absolute proof.

  And if Stark was on the loose somewhere, figuring out his next step was absolutely vital.

  Gavin Stark stared straight forward, anger radiating off him so strongly it could almost be felt in the air. Everything had been going perfectly. Everything! Fucking Vance, he thought bitterly. Facility Q was compromised. How was he going to move almost a million soldiers out of there in the time he had left – however long that turned out to be?

  Vance would have trouble following up, he thought, almost in answer to his own question. It was one thing to sneak a few dozen commandos into the Alliance, and quite another to launch a major invasion. No, Vance would have to advise Alliance Gov of the facility’s existence and purpose. There would be doubt, confusion…Francis Oliver and the other inept fools who ran the Alliance would argue for days – weeks – before reacting. He hoped they would, at least. Vance was the question mark. The Martian spy was not to be trifled with. Maybe, just maybe he’d manage to force quicker action. That would be a problem.

  Stark had backup bases, locations where the duty-ready soldiers could hide, waiting for their moment. But Q was the only facility with functioning crèches. He would lose all the soldiers still in the growth tanks…and he’d have to build a new production facility from scratch. Someplace.

  He sighed hard and turned his attention to the latest intel from the colonies. The military reports were far more satisfactory than the unpleasant news from Earth. Almost all the target worlds had fallen. Only Armstrong, Columbia, and Arcadia were still resisting, and his forces outnumbered their stubborn adversaries on each. Casualties had been appalling on all three, but Stark didn’t care. Gruesome holocausts suited him fine, as long as his enemies were destroyed. He wished he could just nuke all three troublesome planets, but they were crucial to his plans. He couldn’t establish the power base he needed in the colonies without taking the three wealthiest and most powerful planets reasonably intact. There wasn’t going to be much left on Earth by the time his plan was complete, and he’d need a functioning and independent empire in space to complete phase three…the re-occupation and rebuilding of Earth as the capital of his own empire, one ruling all mankind.

  He couldn’t afford any mistakes now. Erik Cain was on Armstrong…and reports suggested Elias Holm was in command of the forces on Arcadia. He still needed Augustus Garret alive to destroy the fleets of the other Superpowers, but the Marine generals had outlived their usefulness. If he moved swiftly now, he could ensure that neither of them left their respective battlefields.

  He leaned over and flipped on the com. “Admiral Liang, I want Force B dispatched immediately to reinforce the army on Armstrong.”

  “Yes, Number One.”

  The former CAC admiral wasn’t a military genius like Garret, but he’d done well so far, Stark thought…at least I’m getting some payback for protecting him all these years.

  “And Force A, sir?”

  “Force A and the balance of the fleet will proceed to Arcadia, Admiral Liang. It is time to crush the troublesome resistance and secure the planet once and for all.”

  “What of Admiral Garret’s fleet, sir?” The Alliance admiral had chased Liang’s forces out of Arcadia’s system two months before.

  The gutless shit can’t even hide his fear about facing Garret, Stark thought angrily. “Don’t worry, admiral.” He was trying to hide the disgust in his voice…but he wasn’t trying too hard. “I can assure you that Admiral Garret will be otherwise occupied by the time we reach Arcadia.”

  “Yes, sir. Liang out.”

  Oh yes, Stark thought. Admiral Garret will have his hands full…doing a service for me. He smiled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. If only he could know how vital he is to my plans.

  Vance was staring at the reports from the Alliance worlds. In all, 32 colonies had been attacked, and 29 had been fully or nearly pacified by the enemy – now presumed to be Gavin Stark’s clone armies. Only three worlds were still contested…Arcadia, Armstrong, and Columbia. The usual suspects, Vance thought. If there were Alliance worlds he’d have expected to put up a fight, these three were the ones.

  Erik Cain had fought a brutal campaign on Armstrong, defeating the enemy’s main thrust toward the capital in a battle of unimaginable brutality. His shattered Marines were faced off against the remains of the invasion force. The two sides were dug in on opposite sides of a great river. As of the last intelligence Vance had available, the exhausted armies were staring at each other across the water, neither with the will nor the supplies to launch a renewed battle. At least not yet.

  Columbia was a holocaust by all accounts. General Tyler, whose dictatorial powers afforded him more options than the other planetary commanders, allowed the enemy to occupy the capital city. Then he launched a massive nuclear attack, turning the Weston into one massive trap. The tactic inflicted thousands of casualties on the enemy…at the cost of one of the largest and most cosmopolitan cities in colonial space. The enemy forces were shocked and disordered, and the result was yet another watchful stalemate.

  Arcadia was perhaps the most convoluted situation of all. Two small Marine contingents had linked up, creating a force too weak to drive the enemy off the planet, but strong enough to hold out against attacks. Complicating the situation further, the native army had somehow survived the initial onslaught. It was trapped in the northern wilderness of the planet where it was tying down significant enemy forces. Vance’s intel was incomplete; he couldn’t get a clear read on whether the overall situation was another standoff, or if the invaders had enough strength to defeat the defenders.

  The remaining Marine forces were all heavily outnumbered, with little or no chance for ultimate victory…at least without some sort of assistance. He’d have normally had faith that the Marines could overcome a deficit in numbers, but now that he knew they were fighting an army of clones – clones of other Marines – he despaired of their chances. Especially if Stark was able to continue producing hundreds of thousands of new troops each year. No…that couldn’t be allowed to continue.

  His operative had made contact with Li An, sharing with her the intel from Team Beta. He’d desperately wanted to discuss the matter directly with the CAC spymaster, but there just wasn’t time. Now he had the report from that meeting, and it was a bombshell. The CAC was going to launch a nuclear attack against the Dakota facility.

  Vance knew Li An could move decisively when it was necessary, but he still found himself surprised and impressed. She was doing what had to be done, despite the danger and the inevitable fallout. She was taking the risk of letting him know…and requesting his aid in handling the diplomatic blowback, but she wasn’t going to wait long. Stark knew his secrecy had been compromised…the commando raid had hardly been a subtle reconnaissance. But even he couldn’t move a facility of this size overnight. If he got the time he’d cover his tracks…and move his base of operations. That would be a disaster. There was no time to lose. It had to be now.

  He couldn’t even guess how many of Stark’s clones were already off-world, on or en-route to colony worlds…but if th
e production facility wasn’t destroyed, the size of the force currently engaged would pale next to the numbers of new soldiers Stark would put in the field.

  He leaned over his keyboard, entering the series of passwords that activated his secure personal com system. No codes were unbreakable…he knew that. But his system generated the most secure encryption known to human science. That didn’t mean it was unbreakable, but it was close.

  He flipped the switch that locked down his office, physically sealing the door and jamming all other communications. Li An had asked for his help in preventing the CAC’s strike from initiating a general war between the Powers. He was certain Alliance Gov had no idea about Stark’s plans…or his super-secret base in the Dakota badlands, but he also knew how they’d almost certainly react to a CAC strike anywhere in Alliance territory. He wasn’t at all sure he could do anything to forestall the inevitable fallout from the strike, but he would try. Nevertheless, whatever the consequences, Li An’s action was essential…even at the risk of war on Earth.

  He flipped a switch and held a small microphone close to his lips. “Minister Li…” – he spoke slowly and gravely – “…I have been advised regarding your plan of operations, and I agree completely. I assure you I will assist in any way…”

  “My fellow council members, I have called this meeting to address several matters of the utmost urgency.” Vance stood at the head of the table, the five other moguls who effectively ruled the Confederation, four men and one woman, stared at him in utter silence. They had come to rely on his ability and to trust him as the de facto, though unofficial, leader of the Council.

  Vance was the only one standing, and he walked slowly back and forth as he spoke. None of those present had ever seen Vance so nervous…indeed, the spymaster rarely betrayed any emotion at all. But now he was visibly disturbed, unable to hide his anxiety.

  “I will be sharing intelligence of the most sensitive nature and, as always, I must request that nothing I say leave this room.” Vance knew the Council members understood, but he said it anyway.

  “First, as you are all aware, the Alliance Intelligence headquarters building was destroyed by a crude nuclear device while the Directorate was in session. Apparently, there were no survivors.” His voice took on a suspicious tone. “I say ‘apparently’ because I suspect that is not entirely correct. While I lack specific evidence, based on my analysis of the information available to us – not only of this bombing, but of other matters I will discuss in a moment – I do not believe that Alliance Intelligence Number One, Gavin Stark, was killed.” He hesitated, knowing what he was about to say was the wildest conjecture on his part. “In fact, it is my belief that the bombing was orchestrated by Mr. Stark himself.”

  “For what purpose, Roderick?” Sebastian Vallen was the most aged member of the Council, well past his hundredth birthday. The old man had been a close friend of Vance’s father…and of his grandfather before that. “I am not one to doubt your deductions, Roderick, but what would Stark gain by destroying his own headquarters and killing so many of his operatives?

  Vance took a deep breath. “Sebastian…all of you…I ask that you let me complete my presentation. When you know the full scope of recent events, you will be better able to judge my conclusions.”

  “Very well, Roderick. Please continue.” A series of nods worked around the table.

  “I have reliable intelligence from my sources in the Alliance government that the uranium used in the bomb has been traced to a CAC colony.”

  A murmur of surprise rippled around the table, but no one spoke. They were staring at Vance, waiting for him to continue.

  “For reasons that will become clear as I elaborate further, I do not believe C1 or any organization within the CAC, was responsible for this attack. He panned his eyes around the table. “As you are all aware, several weeks ago, we dispatched Red Team Beta to investigate a mysterious base located in a remote region of the Alliance.” He paused, looking out again at his five colleagues. “What you do not know is that we located this site with the aid of Minister Li and her C1 apparatus.”

  “Pardon the interruption, Roderick, but do you really feel that Li An is trustworthy?” Vallen had sparred with the CAC’s top spy years before, when he had occupied Vance’s seat at Martian Intelligence.

  Vance looked in Vallen’s direction. “Not conventionally, no. Of course not.” He paused yet again, trying to find the words he wanted. “I would say that I respect her ability…and I trust my own judgment on whether a matter is adversarial between our nations or of joint concern.” He stared at Vallen intently. “I assure you, Sebastian, none of my analyses have been conducted without a full consideration of Minister Li…or what she is capable of.”

  Vallen nodded, but remained silent.

  “We have conclusively…well, nearly conclusively…determined that Gavin Stark has been producing cloned soldiers at this facility.” He paused then added, “In enormous numbers. Hundreds of thousands.”

  “How is that even possible?” It was Katarina Berchtold, who hesitated after her initial outburst. “I apologize, Roderick, but that is an astonishing – and extremely troubling – statement. I wasn’t aware that such advances had been made in cloning technology.”

  “They haven’t.” Vance returned her gaze. “At least not by any of the Powers. It would appear that Mr. Vance – or associates of his – have perfected a technique for producing clone soldiers, one considerably ahead of previously existing technology.” The tension was obvious in his voice. “Indeed, it would seem they are able to produce them at an accelerated rate.”

  The room was silent. Vance hadn’t shared his earlier, unfounded speculations with the Council, so they were getting it all now…without any preparation or time to adapt.

  “Is there a connection to the economic issues we have been monitoring?” It was Berchtold again, after a long silence.

  “Almost certainly,” Vance replied immediately. “It was our search for the missing funds that led us to this discovery.” He moved his eyes across the table. “This is something I cannot emphasize strongly enough. This is no small project, no pilot program. It may seem unreal, hard to accept that such a scientific advancement has occurred in total secrecy, but I must remind each of you…60% of Alliance GDP has been poured into this project for at least six years. This is a massive endeavor, a research effort orders of magnitude larger than the Manhattan Project or the drive to put a man on the moon.”

  “So it would appear you have solved the mystery regarding the irregularities in the Alliance economy. An impressive effort, Roderick.” Vallen’s voice was as grim as Vance’s. “Though it does not appear to offer much hope of averting the inevitable financial collapse.”

  Vance frowned. “I’m afraid not. I have taken all possible steps to insulate our economy…in total secrecy, of course.” He took a deep breath. “But you all know as well as I that the effects, even on our own economy, are likely to be devastating.” He hesitated again, finally adding, “We can only hope the Powers have so much internal unrest that it forestalls them from plunging into war with each other.”

  The room was silent. Everyone present managed massive businesses, the vast economic empires of Mars’ five leading families. They were all trillionaires, though Vance doubted that status would survive the next few weeks’ events.

  “Have you taken steps to control any internal unrest in the Confederation?” It was Vallen again, his voice like gravel. He was asking about something he’d never expected to be an issue.

  Vance looked back, silently at first. “Yes,” he said with considerable emotion. “I have deployed army units to all of the cities. I have kept it quiet, but all commanders have orders to deploy immediately to quell any outbreaks of violence or rioting.”

  The room grew silent again. As the smallest Superpower, Mars had always walked a fine line, maintaining the closest thing to true neutrality that confused politics and constant war allowed. But internal dissension had never been a
major issue. Mars had been founded by the best and the brightest from Earth, and it had maintained a very strict and exclusionary immigration policy. Mars welcomed scientists and educated and productive new citizens who added to the collective whole. The Confederation sympathized with the uneducated masses of Earth, trapped in oppressive squalor…but they didn’t want them on Mars. The original settlers of the red planet had founded an oligarchic society where productivity wasn’t a goal, but a near-obsession. The policy had been stunningly successful, turning a small colony into a full-blown Superpower and economic powerhouse in less than a century. But the coming collapse was going to be bad…and even engineers and professors rioted when they were starving.

  “Well, thank you, Roderick.” Vallen spoke softly, somberly. “As always, you have handled things with great skill.” He looked around the room. “I move that we all remain at Garibaldi Base, and that we meet daily until these unfolding crises are more contained.” He saw the worried expressions around the table. “I am aware we all have considerable business interests to safeguard during this difficult time, but I submit our duty to the Confederation must take the foremost position.”

  “I second the motion.” Berchtold was nodding slowly. “And I submit we can do little more to protect our assets than guide the Confederation safely through this terrible time.”

  “I think we are all in agreement.” Vance looked around the room, nodding at the raised hands. He cleared his throat. “Before I adjourn this meeting and let you all go, I have one more topic to discuss. It is an action I simply cannot undertake on my own. I feel I must have the Council’s unanimous approval.”