Battlecruiser Alamo: Malware Blues

by Richard Tongue

   “Then I’m not a traitor?”

   “You’re a hero. You volunteered to go deep cover into Tramiel’s organization and find out what was going on out there. We knew that they’d raided the gray labs, but they’d done so much damage that we couldn’t tell what had been stolen.” She paused, then said, “We suspected the particle beams.”

   “And you didn’t give me any warning.”

   “I tried!” she said. “About a month ago, we had word that they were planning to move to the next stage of their operation. Wyvern was ordered to survey the system as a result, and I went along for the ride.”

   “Pavel as well,” Orlova said. “As I recall, you…”

   “I needed to have someone along that I could trust, absolutely.”

   “I’m sure he’d have considered it a compliment if you had told him. Damn it, why didn’t you warn us?”

   “Because I couldn’t! All of the research that was stolen was highly restricted. I had to be given special clearance.” She paused, then said, “This was meant to be an easy operation. We believed they were waiting for someone to come and pick them up. If it was just a matter of taking the base, Wyvern could probably handle it. If not, we’d wait in orbit and interdict the planetoid, and you’d have received orders in a week or two to come out and help us. That had all been arranged.” Looking down, she said, “Those orders would have warned you. If we’d spotted then when we arrived, I would have warned Ryder.”

   “What went wrong?”

   “I didn’t know, none of us knew, that Tramiel had continued to recruit. About fifteen, eighteen members of Wyvern’s crew had been suborned. They switched sides, and gave the Commodore all the time he needed to take the ship. Ultimately, he wanted Alamo, and used Wyvern, and me, as the bait to bring you here.” Looking up, she said, “Damn it, I didn’t know any of this could happen.”

   “What about me?” Scott asked.

   Shaking his head, Harper continued, “We knew that the situation was worse than we thought. That Wyvern had been taken. Tramiel wanted volunteers to scout Alamo and secure information, at least, that’s what we thought, and you volunteered, Kat. The plan was for you to get off Alamo, grab a transport, and get to Ragnarok to report in.”

   “Then I hijacked the shuttle…”

   “To preserve your cover. For all we knew, Alamo had been suborned as well and this was all some sort of trap. You had a datapad with a complete report, to be given to you, Maggie, Cooper or Bradley.”

   “It was Barbara I took hostage.”

   “Then I guess you’d have found a way to get the datapad to her when you made it off the ship.”

   Closing her eyes, Orlova said, “The datapad was destroyed when Cooper shot her. No data could be retrieved.”

   “I couldn’t have known.”

   “Evidently.” Turning to Scott, she said, “Sub-Lieutenant, naturally you can consider all charges to be dropped. Go and see if you can help out. We’ve got a ship-sized mass of pieces that need to be put back together again. Dismissed.”

   Snapping to attention, she replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

   Before she left, Orlova said, “I think the ship could wait a few moments if you wanted to collect yourself first. Swing by the mess and get yourself something to eat. Consider it an order.”

   “Aye, ma’am,” Scott replied, leaving the room.

   “Sit down,” Orlova said, gesturing at Harper.

   “None of what happened is her fault,” Harper said, taking a chair. “I want to make that clear. I was the case officer for this operation, and I accept full responsibility for everything that happened.”

   “Good,” Orlova said. “I suppose that’s a start. Let me read something to you.” She pulled out a datapad, and said, “Dear Mrs. Dean. By now you will have received word that your daughter has died in the course of her duty. I wanted to personally let you know how much she meant to her shipmates, and that her death will be mourned by us all. Her action…”

   She stopped, lowering it to the desk, and said, “I’ve got fifty-nine of those to write, Maggie. Fifty-nine people died out here. Including damn near the entire complement of Wyvern.”

   “The mission…”

   “To hell with the damn mission,” Orlova said, leaping to her feet. “That’s not going to be much comfort to the parents, wives, husbands and children who are going to be getting a knock on the door in a few weeks to tell them that their loved one has died. God only knows what I’m going to write to the relatives of the Wyvern casualties.”

   “You weren’t in command of that ship.”

   “No, I wasn’t, but given that one of the letters I have to write is to Ryder’s husband, and that he’s going to have to work out what to tell their daughter, I don’t know who is going to do that. I’m certainly not making Salazar do it.”

   “I’ll do it,” Harper said, looking down at the deck. “I guess I’m the senior surviving officer from that ship.” She shook her head, and said, “I don’t have the first idea what to tell them.”

   Orlova took a deep breath, sat down, and said, “You should have trusted me. Confidential information or not, this was something I definitely needed to know. And hoping that a datapad would reach me…”

   “What choice did I have? This wasn’t my idea! I just ended up as the one who had to do it. Logan was supposed to handle it, but he’s been sent off to Spitfire to handle something even I don’t know about, so they dumped it on me.” She shook her head, and said, “And I know that a lot of people died. I had a good, close seat. I was willing to die myself, if that was what it took to stop that antimatter bomb falling into the wrong hands.”

   She stood up, walking to the water dispenser, splashing the cool liquid onto her face. “Commodore Tramiel died. He genuinely thought that he was doing the right thing for the Confederation. Kline tricked him, betrayed him, and so did Steele. At the end, he made good. He was the one who detonated the bomb.” She smiled, and said, “Tricking me into an escape pod in the process.” Pulling out a datapad, she added, “I have his legacy right here.”

   “What is it?”

   “Complete specifications on the antimatter bomb, the particle beams, the memory wipe, and half a dozen other pieces from the gray labs. As well as details of the companies and the people who helped funnel the funding and the equipment that made it possible. Everything’s here, Maggie. That’s what those people died for.”

   Nodding, Orlova said, “I see. Now, tell me, what happens next?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “This mission was classified Ultra-level, so now what? I doubt very much that there will be a press conference when we get home. What happens to that magic datapad of yours?”

   “They’ll be a courier waiting at Yeager Station, and he’ll see it gets back to Intelligence. Ultimately, to the Combined Chiefs and the President.”

   “And then what? Do you imagine that any of these people will face prosecution for what they have done? Let me tell you what really happens next. You pass on your report, get a pat on the head and a medal, and everything about this is listed Ultra. Wyvern is officially listed as missing, as are the casualties. The survivors we’ve caught will be explained away, maybe from a shuttle we picked up.”

   “What are you getting at?”

   “All of this will be swept under the carpet, Kris. All of it. None of those people will be prosecuted, and why should they?” She sighed, and said, “That antimatter bomb we barely lived through. How the hell did a gang of traitors manage to pull that off on their own? I don’t care how much help they had. Where did they get the antimatter?”

   “The Forward Array, I guess. That’s about a year’s output.”

   “I know we’ve been out of the way for a while, but I can’t imagine that a year’s output from the Saturn antimatter collector would just disappear without anyone noticing. Not unless someone at the very top of the Con
federation wanted it to.”

   “Maybe,” Harper said. “I remember a report I dug out, years ago, a plan to increase the yield of the array. It was never implemented…”

   “Officially. Maybe it was, and for the last five, six years, someone has been hiding it away, some staging area way out in deep space. Say, a brown dwarf star one jump away from a known smuggler’s den.”

   “Houston Station. What are you suggesting?”

   “Antimatter bombs. Memory wipes. Both research projects prohibited by treaty. I know how the gray labs operate. We push these projects to the point that we can finish them in short order, if we have to, but strictly research only. No-one has ever given approval for the construction of a bomb that big, and officially, no-one ever will.”

   Harper’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped open, and she said, “My God.”

   “Commodore Tramiel was obeying orders. Or Kline was, perhaps, and the Commodore was a dupe. We’ll never know whose. That bomb can only have been built with the assistance of some pretty senior people.”

   “I would never…”

   “I know. Nor would Logan, I think, but you both have superiors you report to. And so to they. Someone back on Mars is waiting anxiously for that datapad, ready to recreate their work. They don’t need all the research teams, now. All the hard work is done. My guess is they have enough antimatter somewhere to build another one in, how long? A month. Two?”

   “Three weeks,” Harper said, eyes vacant. “If they have the antimatter on hand.”

   “As little time as that.” With a deep sigh, Orlova said, “And isn’t it convenient that all the evidence is gone? All that remains is your datapad. Wyvern was destroyed, just a radioactive ring of debris, and what parts of the base aren’t flooded are filled with monsters that are almost tailor-made to kill humans. Isn’t that a coincidence. All helping to keep this dirty little secret.”

   “Not that it matters. At some point, the United Nations, the Lunar Republic, the Cabal, find out what we have done. Either their agents learn the truth, or we threaten to use one of these weapons in some crisis. Then they build their own, likely in a surprisingly short amount of time, no serious secrecy needed. Hell, their people would demand them, would shout on the streets for them! And then we live in a universe where ships like Alamo have the ability to destroy a planet.”

   “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds,” Harper muttered. Looking up, she asked, “What the hell can we do?”

   “I can do nothing,” Orlova said. “As you’ve made quite clear, this mission is under the control of Triplanetary Intelligence, and you are the case officer. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

   Harper stood up, walked to the wall, and held the datapad in her hands, saying, “The contents of this device, the information contained upon it, would revolutionize space warfare. It would change everything. If you are right, then a lot of people died for it.” She opened the waste chute, and said, “Unfortunately, I was unable to retrieve any of the data from Wyvern before the ship was destroyed.” She dropped the datapad through the hatch, and tapped a button, a light flashing on to report that the recyclers were stripping it down to its base elements for the fabricator banks. “All I got was the list of those responsible, the data I transmitted to Alamo during the battle.”

   She took a deep breath, turned to Orlova, she said, “Is this how you feel? When you take the bridge, assume command?”

   “Something like that. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s sheer hell. It’s that one percent that makes it all worthwhile.”

   “I guess so.” Harper paused, then said, “Maybe I’m finally growing up.”

   “Maybe,” Orlova said, a smile on her face. “Don’t worry about the letters. I’ll handle them. I think I know what I can write now. That they died to preserve peace, and to save the lives of everyone in the Confederation. That they did their duty, and died with honor. There are worse ways to go.”

   “Yeah,” Harper said. “I guess I’d better go see if I can help out. Computer systems look scrambled to hell.” She paused, then said, “Assuming I’m still welcome on this ship.”

   “You can serve with me any time, Lieutenant. And don’t let anyone ever tell you that you haven’t earned that rank. Dismissed.”

   Harper nodded, making for the door, then paused, turned, and stood to attention, snapping a salute. Orlova returned the gesture, shaking her head.

   “You’ve been practicing,” she said.

   “Seemed like the thing to do,” Harper replied.

  Chapter 28

   Salazar walked down the corridor, a bag in his hand, looking at the names stenciled on the wall. Names and dates, in chronological order. Many of them were from before his time, crewmen who died in one battle or another, the events fading into history. Some of them had the names of the planets where they fell written next to them, Ragnarok, Driftwind, Jefferson, Thule. Others were blank, those who died on Alamo herself, giving their lives to save their crewmates.

   He reached the end of the list, and read the names that had been written on this morning, the paint still sticky. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and he looked up to see Cooper, Bradley and Scott approaching, the former carrying a paint kit of his own in his hand.

   “I think I know what you are going to do,” Cooper said. “I had the same idea.”

   Nodding, he replied, “Someone needs to. And it should be someone who knew him best, and I guess that’s me.” He pulled the applicator from his bag, connecting the paint, and pointed it at the wall. “Lieutenant Peter Grant, December 23rd, 2170.” Shaking his head, he said, “I never knew him. Not as well as I should. Maybe if he’d lived…”

   “You did everything you could to save him,” Bradley said. “I saw on the monitors. The shuttle didn’t have the fuel, the acceleration. It was all you could do to save Harper. That you managed to do that much…”

   “It wasn’t enough,” Salazar said. “It can’t be enough. If it had been enough, then he’d be here now, probably complaining about some minor infraction or another.”

   Looking at the name on the wall, the paint slowly drying, Cooper said, “He died doing what he loved. What he was meant to be. He only really came alive when he was sitting in a cockpit. It was unfair to take that from him.” He sighed, and said, “Maybe he’d have found something else, if he’d given himself a chance.”

   “He won’t be forgotten,” Bradley said. “As long as there are people serving on this ship, they’ll know his name, and know that he died to save his shipmates. To save you, Pavel. That last missile strike would have shot you out of the sky. You didn’t have the fuel left for an evasive course, and you know it.”

   With a deep sigh, Salazar said, “My head says that you are right. My heart says that I left him behind.” He slumped to the ground, and said, “Too damn many people died today. When I gathered the two groups down on the planet, there were twenty-eight of us. And that was after the first attack. Twenty-eight people that I was responsible for.” Looking at the floor, he continued, “Eleven of us lived through it.”

   “Which is eleven more than if you hadn’t tried,” Cooper said.

   Tears forming in his eyes, Salazar looked up, and said, “Lombardo thanked me. Lying in his bed in sickbay, cables dangling out of him, and he thanked me for saving him. What the hell has he got to thank me for?”

   “Saving his life,” Orlova said, stepping down the corridor towards the group. “I see that you have saved me a job, Pavel.” She gestured at the new name on the wall, just underneath that of Ryder, and said, “I thought I’d have to do it.”

   “It seemed right that I should,” Salazar said. “I hated him. I…” He shook his head, and said, “I don’t know what I thought.”

   Nodding, Orlova looked at Scott, and said, “Sub-Lieutenant, I don’t think words can express our apologies for what we put you through.”

   “That’s fine
, ma’am. You weren’t to know. I wasn’t to know.”

   “You might be interested to know that my report recommends you for an Order of Merit. At the very least, I intend to see you get the highest award I can get for you, and in my opinion, you’ve earned a damn sight more.” She paused, and said, “I understand that you have in the past expressed a desire to serve on this ship.”

   Nodding, she said, “It’s why I joined the fleet.”

   “I’d understand if you never wanted to see any of us again, but if you still want a job here, I’m pretty sure we can find something good for you.”

   Scott looked at Cooper and Bradley, and said, “I’d like that. There are people on this ship I’d be proud to serve with.”

   “I’ll make the arrangements for you.” Looking at Salazar, still slumped on the floor, Orlova said, “Do you mind giving Pavel and I the corridor? There are a few details I need to talk to him about.”

   “Sure,” Cooper said. Glancing down at Salazar, he added, “Come see me, Pavel. If there’s anything you need.”

   “Yeah,” the dejected officer replied. “I will, Gabe. Thanks.”

   As the three of them walked down the corridor, Orlova sat down next to him, and said, “A good group, Pavel. Good people.”

   “The best,” he said. “Scott was good on the shuttle. She’ll be an asset to the ship.”

   “I agree.” Pulling out a datapad, she said, “Harper submitted her report. What there is of it.” She chuckled, then said, “Let’s just say it’s going to be a lot shorter than the top brass were expecting. She mentions that Spaceman Fox was working as a double-agent, deep undercover.”

   Nodding, Salazar said, “Sounds like almost everyone on that ship was working for someone other than her Captain.”