“Ouch,” said Spears, grimacing visibly. “Nasty stuff.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Mattis, pressing his hands to her wounds. He cracked a smile. “Looks like you finally earned yourself some leave, Captain. Don’t worry. You’ll be sipping margaritas on a beach pretty soon, getting fawned over by tanned cabana boys and soaking up the sun. Come to think of it, I think you’re faking it.”
Spears’s breathing was shallow, her voice faint. “Mmm, cabana boys,” she said.
“We’ve got a corpsman on the way,” said Yim. “Just hold tight.”
“Belay that,” said Spears, shaking her head, suddenly becoming more alert. “We can’t—we can’t risk it.”
Mattis applied more pressure to her wounds. “Yeah, yeah. We already knew that. Turns out we can risk it. Especially if it’s the Captain. Don’t worry, Blair told them to go nice and slow.”
“You’re a good man, Admiral,” she said, her voice weakening again.
“If I’m an Admiral again,” he said, “I’m officially ordering you not to die. And I know what you Brits are like… you love following orders.”
“Captain is always in charge on her own ship,” Spears said faintly. “You can’t fool me with your white lies, Jack.”
He said nothing, simply keeping his hands on her injuries. “Where’s that corpsman?”
“They’re coming,” said Blair. “It looks like Blackwood—I mean, Spectre—welded some of the internal doors shut. Medics are cutting through them, but it’s taking time.”
Shit. Those doors were designed to withstand battle damage and explosive decompressions. They were not going to be able to get through them in a hurry.
Spears grabbed hold of the collar of Mattis’s suit, gently pulling his face close to hers. Her breathing was shallow, but her voice was full of fire. “Mattis,” she said, and he could feel the palpable anger in her voice. “Make sure you kill that coward for me. Spectre. Not just this clone, not just this army of fakes. Him. Kill him. Send his carcass to Hell; I want to welcome him personally.”
He couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will,” he promised. “I’ll get him for you.”
“Very good,” whispered Spears. Blood ran from the side of her mouth. “Mattis. Mattis, listen, I think Captain Flint had nanobots in his brain, just like… just like Corrick.” She pulled his collar closer, her voice weak and horse. “I think… other officers in the fleet have them too. So that at the right… moment… they turn.”
“What are you saying?” asked Mattis. “Who has them?”
“Admiral Chang of Goalkeeper. Goalkeeper… and others. The Reardon’s computer from the Stennis has… might have… a list. Information. Something to help you… beat him.”
“I’ll look inside,” said Mattis. “As soon as we get out of this shitshow. I promise.”
“Good.” Spears let go of his collar, her hand falling limp to the deck. She smiled. “To be honest, I never imagined dying in an air vent, bettered by a robot.”
Mattis looked around. “Looks like you’re on the bridge to me.” He smiled, his eyes wet.
“Excellent,” she said, and then closed her eyes. And then she was gone.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Bridge
HMS Caernarvon
Z-space
A grim quiet fell over the bridge. Mattis checked her pulse. Checked her heart.
“I’m sorry,” said Yim. “She’s gone.”
Spears had died. Died… for what? For access to Reardon’s computer? For the data on it? The injustice of it stung. She’d died for bits. For zeroes and ones.
Was it worth dying for?
He felt helpless, and that made him furious. With a frustrated growl, Mattis pulled himself to his feet. “Okay,” he said. Spectre in all his various iterations had taken so much from him already, what was one more life? “Let’s find that shit stain, blast him to Hell, and then… you know what? I’ve got nothing better to do. Let’s go hunt down every single Spectre clone in the universe. Seems like it might be fun.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Yim, standing as well. “Blair, tell the corpsman there’s no need to hurry. Take their time. Be cautious. Who knows what other traps Spectre’s left about.”
While Blair went to work out how to communicate with the corpsman, Mattis walked over to the intercom and touched the key. “Attention all hands,” he said. “This is the Bridge. I am Captain Jack Mattis of the United States Navy. Captain Spears is dead. Commander Blackwood is…” he didn’t have a simple way of explaining what had happened, so he gave them just the bare essentials. “Responsible for her death. I can’t order you to arrest her. But if you see her, be wary. She is not who she appears. Break.” He took his hand off the talk key, thinking, then pressed it again. “I will be assuming command of this vessel until we can return to Earth and be relived. I understand having your CO and XO replaced by foreign command is jarring; I hope that many of you will know my voice and also know my reputation, and that you will stand by me nevertheless. Captain Spears vouched for me. She had a plan, a mission, and I intend to follow through with it. I need every one of you to keep calm and carry on. Any objections can be noted with your direct superior. Remain at your posts, and be advised that we may soon be engaging unknown hostile targets, so stay alert. That is all.”
Dammit…
He looked down at Spears. She looked so calm. So peaceful. The epitome of a calm, quiet, British death; dignified and composed to the last.
“Special Agent Blair, secure this bridge. Make sure the bodies are arranged respectfully, and presented to the corpsman when they arrive.”
“Okay,” said Blair. She muttered to herself. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Admiral Yim,” he said, “I want control of this ship immediately.”
He seemed doubtful. “Not sure that little speech will convince the crew,” he said. “They don’t know what’s happened here.”
“Julius Caesar once said, It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience. Spears was a great CO. One of the best I’ve known. Those kind of people inspire loyalty, and I suspect this crew will want to honor her memory.” Mattis would have to deal with any objections if and when they arose. “Besides. Americans and Brits are friends. We’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” said Yim, and moved over to Blackwood’s old console. He touched the screen, checking the ship’s systems.
“How’s she looking?”
“We’re on autopilot,” he said. “It looks like Spectre had an exit destination already programed in. We’re moving…” he stopped, frowning. “Much faster than we should be. Looks like Spectre played games with the engines, too. Not sure exactly what they’ve done, but we’re coming up on the exit point real soon.” He stared. “Which is Earth.”
They should have been hours or days away from anywhere of note, let alone Earth. More ominously, if Spectre had plotted that course, and that course was Earth, then…. There was no reason Spectre would want to go there that would be good news.
“Pull us out of Z-space,” he said. “Execute an emergency translation.”
Yim’s reluctance was obvious. “We could end up anywhere,” he said cautiously. “We could damage the engine and end up months away from anywhere… or inside a planet—or a star.”
Mattis knew that as well as anyone, but he also knew that they were out of options. “Do it,” he said, settling into the command chair. “Because, no matter what, we can’t let Spectre bring this ship to Earth—”
An alarm chimed throughout the bridge, signaling the disengagement of the autopilot. “We’re exiting Z-space,” said Yim, his tone charged.
“That was quick,” said Mattis, twisting in the chair.
“I didn’t do it,” said Yim, holding up his hands. “It’s the autopilot. And it’s arrived.”
With a shudder, the Caernarvon shifted out of Z-space, the multicolored hues of the strange unreality disappe
aring, real space fading back into view on every monitor. A real space surrounded by ships, satellites, space stations and Goalkeeper—a whole civilization’s worth of traffic.
And right at the heart of it all, a giant blue-green marble floated in space, the homeworld of his species, the cradle of civilization.
Earth.
Chapter Sixty
Bridge
HMS Caernarvon
High Earth Orbit
Mattis stared at the image of Earth on the main monitor. The sun was rising over Eastern Russia, Japan and Australia, bathing the whole Pacific Ocean in light.
“We’re being hailed,” said Yim, tapping on the XO’s console.
“By whom?”
“Everyone.” Yim scrolled through the incoming radio connections. “Space stations, surface observatories, ships in orbit, Goalkeeper… seems like word of our little incident on Chrysalis has arrived even faster than we did.”
“And they probably couldn’t contact us in Z-space because of the engine modifications,” Mattis mused. “Well, first, we haven’t found Spectre yet. So everyone else is going to have to wait.” He turned to Blair. “I could use some help here. I don’t suppose you know how to use any of this equipment?”
Blair stared at him. “No,” she said. “I’m a federal investigator. I don’t know to use sensitive military hardware.”
“Do you know how to use a radio?”
She stood up straight. “I’m a federal investigator. We have radios.”
“Right,” said Mattis, pointing to the communications officer’s chair. “Just don’t press any buttons that look like they shoot anything.”
Blair she sat in the chair belligerently, but began to stare in bewilderment once she took in the array of controls before her. She put on a headset, ignoring the blood with professional dignity, and then touched a screen. “Hello? Yes, this is the Caernarvon…”
Mattis would have to turn her loose and see what she could do. With Yim his only company with any experience on a bridge, things would be difficult.
“Jack,” Yim said, pointing to one of the far monitors, which was lit up and flashing a yellow warning. “Look.”
An unauthorized shuttle launch had been detected from the hangar bay. There were no prizes given for determining who that would be. Yim tapped a key and the main monitor lit up, showing a standard issue British shuttle tearing away from the Caernarvon, the scorched and heavily damaged engine core of a much larger ship clumsily chained to its roof. How the engine core had survived the explosion of its ship he had no idea, nor any idea how the Caernarvon had so easily defeated five equally-matched Chinese warships. Evermore, the haunting words drifted back into his mind. Spectre was full of surprises.
“Target that shuttle,” said Mattis, scowling darkly at the screen. “All guns. Missiles. Whatever you got, whatever you can get access to.”
“And blow it to Hell?” asked Yim.
“And blow it to Hell.”
Yim tapped at keys hesitantly, unfamiliar with the British systems, but after a few seconds, he nodded emphatically. “Okay. I think I have it locked up.”
“Hey, Mattis?” asked Blair, touching her ear. “Goalkeeper is trying to talk to you. They say it’s urgent.”
“Tell them to stand by,” he said, and then nodded to Yim. “Fire.”
Yim put in the command, but nothing happened. He reiterated. Nothing. Then a message flashed up on the screen.
“Gun crews are refusing to fire,” said Yim, his tone suddenly infused with a combination of fear, anger, and resignation. “They say they’ve ID’d the shuttle as a British asset, and its IFF checks out. They won’t shoot one of their own ships if they think it has a valid ID.”
“That’s because it is their own ship,” said Mattis, grinding his teeth. “And because it does have a friendly ID. Because it’s Blackwood’s ID code, and it’s Spectre using it.”
Yim thumped his fist on the keyboard. “I know, but they still won’t fire.”
There was no time to debate with the gun crews about the issue. “Lock them up with missiles, then,” he said. “Short range, long range, I don’t care. It’s a transport. It doesn’t have armor. Whatever we have. If it goes boom, hit them with it.”
“Missiles are locked out,” said Yim, frustration rising in his voice. “The gun crews instituted an emergency shutdown of everything. They want to talk to you.”
“Mattis,” said Blair, “Goalkeeper really wants to talk to you.”
Everyone wanted an explanation from him, but all he could see was that ship, that shuttle, racing toward Earth with its stolen Chinese engine strapped to its back.
Mattis knew what it was after. He’d seen it before. It was going to use the mass of Earth to open a portal to the future. It would in all likelihood completely destroy the Earth.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Chapter Sixty-One
Bridge
HMS Caernarvon
High Earth Orbit
Dammit. Goddammit. Mattis watched the shuttle move farther and farther away—zooming toward Earth—flying in a straight line, unafraid. With his bridge crew down, surrounded by unfamiliar systems and with only a federal agent and Yim for help, Mattis had no idea what was happening around him. Was the shuttle communicating with anyone? Spectre spinning his lies, buying time?
“Ram it,” said Mattis, desperation growing in his gut. “We’re a British warship. They’re a tiny transport vehicle, for God’s sake. Catch up with them and just crush them. Anything to stop them doing what we all know they’re about to do.”
Yim tapped a few keys, then, with a sigh, pushed back his keyboard. “Engines are locked out too.”
They didn’t have guns, they didn’t have missiles, they didn’t have engines. There had to be some way to stop that shuttle. There had to be some way…
“Mattis, listen!” Blair shouted. “They say they’re going to fire. They sound really serious, Jack.”
That took him out of his thoughts. “Who’s going to fire?”
“Goalkeeper,” she said. “Apparently they really want to talk to you, or they’re going to shoot something called Little Friend.”
Oh shit. The giant gun that had blown up an Avenir ship in a single shot. And commanded by someone Spears was convinced had nanobots in his brain. “Okay, put me through,” Mattis grumbled.
“Uhh, how do I do that?”
Goddammit. “Uhh…” he jabbed a finger at her console. “That flashing red button right there. No—No—Yes. That one. Press it.”
She did.
“—is Admiral Chang, and this is your final warning, Caernarvon. I say again, we will fire on you if you do not positively identify yourself.”
“This is Captain Mattis,” he barked. Nanobots or not, he needed Chang. “Admiral Chang, cease fire.”
For a moment he thought they couldn’t hear him—was he was on mute? He gave an exasperated sigh and went to replace Blair at the console—but then Chang spoke up. “Mattis? Captain Jack Mattis?”
“Last time I checked,” he said, settling back into his chair and shooting Blair an apologetic half-nod. “Listen, I don’t have time to chat with you. You see that shuttle there?”
“Of course,” said Chang, “and there’s one Commander Blackwood aboard, and she says you’ve taken command of her ship and the bridge crew are dead. Is this accurate?”
“She’s trying to stall you,” he said, bluntly. “See that engine core on the back of her shuttle? That’s a special Chinese engine from a ship, she blew it up and stole it. She’s going to use that to open a portal to the future, because she’s a clone of Spectre, and—”
“Slow down,” said Chang, his voice quickly hardening into threatening. “I want to speak to Captain Spears.”
Mattis’s eyes flicked briefly to Spears’s peaceful face, then swallowed hard. “You can’t. Blackwood put a bullet in her.”
“Commander Blackwood said,” said Chang, “that you were threatenin
g to kill her. That she had to flee the bridge when you and a small number of mutineers stormed it and—”
“She’s lying,” shouted Mattis, his fingernails scraping across the armrest of the command chair. “Don’t you get it? Spectre is about to win. He’s about to destroy Earth, and you’re just sitting here arguing about nonsense.”
Chang’s voice suddenly leveled, as though he had made some kind of difficult decision. “Captain Mattis, we have received communications from the crew of the Caernarvon which suggest that you are acting against their interests and issuing commands that the crew are refusing to follow—that you are following an alleged secret plan Spears had, but of which the crew was never informed. Those reports are corroborated by the testimony of Commander Blackwood. Accordingly, this is a mess and we are going to sort it out. You are to prepare to be boarded and to submit to my Marines when they come aboard. Any Caernarvon crew members who are listening to this transmission are ordered to cooperate with the boarding parties and stand against Captain Mattis. And Captain?” Chang’s voice softened slightly, but was full of deadly promise. “Do not test me. No tricks. If needed, I will end you.”
Mattis had seen the impact of Chang’s weapon first hand. There was no way they could survive even a single effective shot.
He did the only thing he could think of at the moment. “I’m pleading with you,” he said. “I’m not lying. I’ve never lied, not to you, not to anyone. Think! Don’t you remember that my face was all over the news? Do you not remember the Battle for Earth, or Friendship Station? The People’s Republic fought alongside me against the Avenir. President Schuyler believed me. Admiral Fischer believed me—”
“And look what happened to her fleet,” said Chang. Still, Mattis could sense a crack there. He was getting through.
“There are thousands of witnesses, and irrefutable proof that what I’ve been saying this whole time is right,” Mattis said. “And I’m asking you now. I’m telling you. That’s not Blackwood. That’s Spectre.”
The Last Strike: Book 5 of The Last War Series Page 24
