The Alpha Choice

by M. D. Hall

  The details of the plan to save Earth had been hatched over six days, when four of the group of six met in Paris. TeCorp had become the fifth, unofficial member, but were asked if they could supervise matters, on the ground, while the four political leaders thrashed out the macro ideas. Hugo saw no objection to this proposal, having plenty to do without yet another meeting, and so readily agreed.

  The cadre found that without the burden of regional politics, and concerns of economics, they liked each other, and worked well together.

  The sixth member of the group, Tala, was never present, nor even a remote party to the talks that, day by day, ensured a network of aid, assistance and logistical brilliance the like of which had never before been seen on the planet. She was simply not interested, or so they thought.

  Hugo resolved emergency transport issues by securing a release from each and every one of his buyers, on the understanding that if their expected vessels were requisitioned, they would later not be required to take delivery of the used craft, and new replacements would be supplied within six weeks of ‘zero hour.’ In this way, he ensured that all flyers, not yet delivered, were available to be deployed in rescue missions. In the meantime, the flyers, within their underground hangars, were safe from any residual fallout. Some of his customers even asked if he could take their flyers back, so as to afford them protection. He agreed, on the condition that, if required, they would be utilised for humanitarian missions.

  He encountered no resistance to his counter proposal.

  Δ

  While the media were deluged with details of the rescue plan, the small number of doubters that remained, saw their fears ebb away.

  Matters between Hugo and the President had, however, taken an unusual course, which left Hugo feeling bemused. Any calls he made to Gerry Wye’s office were often met with dissembling, and evasions. Even his attempts to speak directly with the President were unsuccessful. He could understand why the Te might only want to deal with planetary leaders, but it served to remind him of the fickle nature of politics. All the time he was, seemingly, the source of amazing technologies, the President was his best friend. How matters could change.

  Δ

  Thirty-six hours before failsafe, the reconfigured Te’an ships launched. Despite warnings to remain indoors and watch proceedings via television feeds, hundreds of thousands within sight of the launch point, gathered in silent supplication. All the meetings, promises and assurances led up to this moment. Now was the time when truth, as the Tellurians understood it, would out.

  The actual launch, completely lacking in noise, or vapour trails was beautiful, in a vastly understated way. The thirty-six ships simply swept westwards into a clear morning sky, the sun glinting off their silvered bodies for all of the six-seconds they remained in sight. The crowds continued to stare skywards, long after the ships had left Earth’s atmosphere.

  Mere minutes would elapse before the Earth squadron intercepted the vast, tumbling rock. The crews had performed countless simulations, but time constraints meant this was their first opportunity to pilot the ships in anger. They comprised the best pilots the world had to offer; the technicians, likewise, were the youngest and brightest. While crews naturally derived from single nations, for the purposes of inter-ship communication almost as much time had been spent on language skills, as technical matters.

  Ω

  Darl watched from his ready room as the asteroid moved towards its rendezvous with the Tellurian/Te’an hybrids. He had not invited Garnoth who, doubtless, would have arranged his own personal viewing of what was about to take place. The commander had played down the importance of proceedings to his crew ensuring, however, that key members of his staff were ready to intercede, should the Tellurian expedition fail. For his own edification, he was interested to see how the Tellurians would cope. Precision and timing was more important than brute force in situations like this. Eyes glued on the hologram before him, he barely acknowledged the Nopa who brought his drink.

  Δ

  The Earth ships neared their destination, then broke off into three groups of twelve, each with a different approach vector. Speed was slowed, and courses adjusted to match the target then, as one they opened fire, concentrating upon two converging fault lines. The longest, lateral line drew the fire of two of the groups, at different points. The continuous assault seemed to last much longer than the twelve minutes it actually took. Then all ships turned their attention to the intersection of the fault lines. Within seconds, the asteroid silently fractured, six parts now slowly moving away from each other, neither fast enough, nor far enough.

  The ships reformed into tight groups of six, and moved to selected rock fragments.

  Ω

  Darl was fascinated, so far the Tellurians had performed admirably. Now came the hard part, using their combined defensive shields to nudge the mini asteroids onto new courses, and so avoid collision with their atmosphere. He signalled Kirion to remain alert for any signs of failure.

  Δ

  Merging their shields was having the desired effect of gradually moving the enormous shards out of the collision vector. They would need to keep the momentum going until just before failsafe, to ensure success. The silent ballet was unfolding perfectly, until Gamma Group’s shield failed.

  Δ

  Hugo, alone of the group of six, was in the control room deep below ground in TeCorp headquarters. He received the news of Gamma’s failure, immediately, and walked over to the mission controller, Alonso Verdi, who shook his head before any question could be asked. ‘I do not know how it has happened, and because of that, I cannot say with certainty when, or if it can be fixed.’

  ‘Alonso, we’re not talking about a dud lightbulb here…’

  ‘I am fully aware of the ramifications, Mr Black…’

  ‘What if we use just five of the ships?

  ‘And, which of the six do you suggest we use?’

  ‘You mean…?’

  ‘Precisely. We have no idea which of them is causing the problem…and no way of telling whether we will know, in time.’

  Hugo rubbed his forehead. ‘What if we make smaller groups?’

  ‘Then all fragments will remain within the collision vector.’

  ‘And if we leave this fragment?’

  ‘It will impact the Mediterranean, and still be catastrophic.’

  ‘We can't just do nothing,’ Hugo protested.

  Alonso did not reply, he looked across to his team who all had their eyes glued to their monitors, fingers dancing across keyboards, performing multiple computations. Precious minutes passed in silence, before one of the team looked up at his boss and nodded. This had the effect of drawing Alonso over to the young man’s screen, where, after several seconds he put his hand on his colleague’s shoulder, and sighed. Then, turning to Hugo, the controller spoke. ‘We have found the ship with the defective field. If we withdraw it and work on the problem, it may be able to assist the others, later. The good news is that using a different approach we may just avoid impact by getting the fragment to glance off the atmosphere.’

  ‘How quickly can you fix the failed unit?’

  ‘I cannot tell, we might not be able to fix it in time, but you cannot delay the decision.’

  Not wanting to waste anymore time, Hugo gave the go ahead.

  Ω

  This is becoming interesting, thought Darl, as he watched the five remaining Tellurians withdraw from the enormous shard. Listening to the conversation between Black and his advisor, he shook his head. ‘Kirion!’

  Ω

  Darl’s XO issued the order to the solitary pilot, and the dart slid out of one of the launch bays, light bending around it and making the tiny craft all but invisible to any prying Tellurian eyes.

  On board, Genir calculated he would have the smallest margin for error. The Tellurian data analysed by Eclipse had been streamed to his console, revealing the errors in their calculations, not by much, but enough to make the difference. His task was s
traightforward, but not simple; get in among the defenders unnoticed, and remain undetected while adding just enough momentum to the shard to achieve what the Tellurians expected anyway. He had no idea why they were helping the enemy, it made no sense, but that was what made orders so wonderful, they did not have to make sense.

  Genir had practised with the new masking field before Eclipse left orbit. When he was told about it, his superiors made no mention of Gallsor, the likely inspiration, and he was careful not to let on what he knew about the encounter. The field was impressive, but he had no doubt it would not have been good enough against the likes of the Balg. The problem was always going to be proximity. At the distance he would need to be at, to have any effect, other issues came into play: temperature, vibration and not least, the energy put out by the field itself, and finally, the most dangerous part - for him - his defensor shields. He had been assured, the instruments aboard the defenders had been recalibrated, by Tellurian based Te’an engineers, to prevent him being noticed, but even they could not hide the interference from the shields. In order to get close enough to the five ships, he had to deactivate his only means of protection, and if he collided with any one of them, game up.

  He had no illusions, he was picked, ahead of more experienced pilots, because his instincts and reactions were almost second to none, they would be critical if his intervention was needed. Well, it was needed, and he was now silently hurtling towards his destiny. Success here would cement his reputation, at least among the fleet. He was unsure how Gorn would react, not to the mission, but to being kept in the dark about it. Their superiors had sworn him to secrecy, concerning the precise details - once his mission was completed, that would all change - but his orders made it no easier, the two had no secrets from one another, until now. In every way that mattered they were brothers, and it hurt him to keep the secret, he’ll understand, Genir reassured himself, before clearing his mind and concentrating on the scene before him. Five ships, closer to each other than he would want, but that was why he was in the hot seat. Disconnecting any communication between himself and Eclipse - it would not do to have the mission blown by an errant signal from the flagship, and nothing was going to spoil his chance for glory - he slowed his approach, and switched all controls to manual.

  Δ

  Unused to feeling so useless, Hugo paced the room. ‘Are you sure this will work, Alonso?’

  ‘Sure? No, but it should. Perhaps there is somewhere else you could go, to feel more comfortable?’

  Hugo was also unused to being reminded he was useless. ‘No, Alonso, I think it better that I stay.’

  ‘That is your prerogative, Mr Black, but…’

  Their conversation was cut short by the same young assistant who had earlier discovered the solution to their problem. ‘Sir,’ he was addressing Verdi, ‘can you look at this, I think we’ve hit a snag?’

  A couple of minutes later, Verdi was looking worried, for the first time. He moved out of earshot of his assistants. ‘Mr Black, it is rather more than a snag. I had miscalculated and, as a result there will be a collision, I do not see how it can be avoided. I have transmitted a further change to the pilots but it will not be enough.’

  ‘What about the defective ship, any closer to getting it fixed?’

  The Italian scientist blinked, slowly. ‘Even if it could help, I do not think it would be enough.’

  ‘The damage?’ Hugo was almost afraid of the answer, as the scientist led him to one of the monitors. Over a thirty-second simulation his heart sank. There were no questions that sprang to mind, what he had just seen was all too clear.

  ‘The damage from the initial impact will not be as great, but,’ added Verdi, ‘the ultimate result is the same, most life on the planet, including our own, will be extinguished.’

  Ω

  Darl groaned aloud, even though he was alone in his ready room. The Tellurians were adjusting their formation, and there was no way his pilot could be warned; he was about to make his final course corrections, and a transmission to his implant was too risky, the Tellurians might detect it. The level of their interference had been calibrated precisely by Garnoth's Avatar. The outcome of the manufactured danger was a foregone conclusion, but any awareness on the part of Tellurians that they had been misled, and the entire mission was forfeit. He watched the dart position itself - the inexperienced pilot wholly unaware of what was about to happen - and buried his head in his hands.

  Ω

  Genir manoeuvred the dart, three metres from the nearest defender. He was certain he could feel the vibrations from the much larger ship, but that was impossible. He needed to apply power incrementally otherwise he would give the game away. This was easier than fooling Fleet, and that was easy enough. I should feel guilty about this, all the adulation, overwhelming attention from beautiful women. Maybe…the next thought never formed, as the defender lurched towards him. The time it took for him to marshall his thoughts seemed like an age, but was no more than a split second. What are they doing?

  The distance between the defender and his ship was down to half a metre before he was able to match its speed and trajectory. It was then that he noticed two of the other four defenders moving, the remaining two were out of sight for now. For them, it was no more than a synchronised adjustment carried out by their navigation computers, but to Genir he was in a maelstrom of moving machinery that could crush him out of existence, while at the same time informing the Tellurians of his presence. As the dart disintegrated the masking shield would fail, and they could not help but notice the tiny intruder, or what was left of it.

  His eyes scoured the scene around him, he was safe for the moment, now where are you all?

  Ω

  ‘Kirion! What can be done?’

  ’Nothing, sir,’ came the calm and, to Darl at this particular moment, infuriating reply. ‘We cannot become directly involved. We need to trust in the officer’s instincts, after all that is why he was chosen.’

  Darl recalled the objections voiced by his XO over the choice of an inexperienced combat pilot; he hated being wrong. A sick, heavy feeling appeared in his stomach in the sure knowledge that the board of inquiry would be peopled by Kirion clones. ‘He knows to withdraw if things get out of hand?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that, sir.’

  As if matters could not get worse, Darl watched as a second defender rose beneath the dart; the pilot could not possibly know it was there. Seconds ticked by as the inevitable approached.

  Ω

  Well that’s four of you. With his limited visibility, Genir could see one of the defenders above him, thankfully in a fixed position. To his right were another two: one below and well to the side, it was slowing into what must have been its predetermined position; the other, on his his right, was above and also nearing a standstill. As he looked to the ship that nearly struck him, he noticed the distance between them start to increase, it was slowing. That leaves just one more. He considered the positions of the four ships, and tried to imagine the target lines, just as he did with Gorn in the cuboid. The missing line would be just below…He had no idea if he would have enough time, or if there would be enough room above. As he adjusted the controls, the dart rose with a painful slowness, but he knew there was nowhere else to go.

  Ω

  Darl magnified the image, watching as the only moving defender climbed towards the defenceless dart. The single seater craft stopped less than half a metre from the bottom of the defender above it, and waited. Despite the consequences if everything went wrong, the commander could not tear his eyes from the scene being played out in the holo image.

  Ω

  Genir closed his eyes, and waited. There was nothing more to be done. Using the other ships as his point of reference he guesstimated he had another six or so seconds, before he would feel the hull buckle, and the atmosphere flee into the gaping emptiness around him.

  He opened his eyes. Twenty seconds had gone by…nothing. Clearly, I was the righ
t man for the job, now for the hard part, helping without them knowing. There would be a moment, only a moment, when he would pick up the unmistakeable signs of energy beams charging. Personal energy weapons discharged such a minimal energy signature that no charging was necessary, but when five energy beams were to coalesce into one, to create a beam powerful enough to move a body the size of this shard, that required charging. He had already picked out the point where his repulsor field - invisible to the Tellurians, if applied incrementally and adeptly - would strike the shard. His involvement would last a little over an hour, and then he would cut his drive, and watch the Tellurians slowly draw away from him.

  As he waited for the telltale signs, it only just occurred to him that at no time during the last few minutes, had he felt afraid.

  Δ

  ‘Mr Black, the ships are in position.’ Hugo nodded, and Verdi gave the order to fire. ‘How long before we know for sure?’ Hugo asked.

  ‘Three, or four minutes, as soon as we have figured in the new data. Until that point everything is a projection, more than just conjecture, as it is based on sound principles and good data, but a projection nonetheless.’

  ‘You mean you could be wrong?’

  Verdi shrugged. ‘Unlikely, there would need to be a factor we had not taken into account, and there are relatively few factors here, and certainly no unknowns.’

  The time passed far slower than Hugo anticipated. Verdi, scratched his head and said something in Italian, that Hugo did not catch - he guessed the scientist was swearing. ‘What’s wrong Alonso?’

  ‘I am not sure…I need to run the figures again, please, a moment?’

  Hugo did not know what to think. The scientist’s demeanour, suggested neither good nor bad news, he just seemed perplexed, and that air of bafflement pervaded the whole room. All the team were huddled around one console, so that Hugo was unable to see what had them all so agitated. The three or four minutes became thirty, before Verdi turned around to look at his boss. ‘I do not know how it has happened, but there will be no collision.’ He shook his head. The combined energy stream cannot be greater than the sum of its parts, but I can think of no other explanation. Perhaps, when there is time I can review the data, but for now,’ he permitted himself a smile, his first of the day, ‘we are saved!’