The Vassal World (The First Exoplanet Book 2)

by T. J. Sedgwick

  The stills on the video wall changed to show a row of men with assault rifles doing target practice. Some members of a rag-tag unit saluting up to the Brazilian flag. Some tattooed natives attacking straw figures with vicious looking swords.

  “All over the world the message is one of defiance, and none more so than the worst affected country in terms of sheer numbers: India”

  A map of India appeared on the video wall, showing which cities sat south of the Tropic of Cancer and their populations.

  “As the graphic shows, India is having to cope with an enormous exodus from the south to the north. Roads, railways and airports are all heaving under the strain of millions of people. There have been several more incidents of stampedes, the worst of which killed twenty-seven people as they were trampled underfoot at Chennai’s main railway terminal. Rioting also broke out at Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, after many flights were cancelled.”

  Scenes of transport chaos were slide-showed next to the map of India. It was replaced by a video clip of a missile leaving an underground silo at some unidentified location in the same country.

  “Then, late last week, we had those reports of multiple launches from several sites across India. At least thirty-five missiles were seen rising from five locations – underground missile silos that had escaped the alien attacks in April. Those missiles were targeted at the alien fleet that carried out those attacks and the devastating bombardment of Kota Kinabalu, which killed half a million people. Telescopes and surviving ground radar indicated no successful hits with those anti-satellite rockets, our sources say.”

  The final still image popped up on the video wall – a photo of a Korgax destroyer taken by the Pinta probe around Gaia with a large question mark superimposed over it.

  “And all the while there have been numerous attempts, day after day, to contact the Korgax and open a dialogue. And all the while they have remained silent and watching.”

  Dana took a breath and continued speaking while walking over to a small podium. She turned, and a different camera framed her head and upper body, as an inset image of a handsome wind-swept black man holding a mic appeared. Behind UN Correspondent, Travis Jackson, was the United Nations Building in New York. Important looking people in suits passed behind him on the concourse, his tan raincoat flapping slightly in the stiff breeze on that overcast afternoon.

  “And now we go to Travis Jackson, our UN Correspondent, who is outside of UN HQ right now. Travis, I understand the speech by Indian Prime Minister, Jitin Kumar, has just ended. What did the Prime Minister say?”

  “Dana, that’s right. I’ve just left the General Assembly Hall, where Mr. Kumar made an impassioned and defiant speech, ostensibly directed at the Korgax. He spoke about how his country, and the rest of humanity, had offered the hand of friendship. He told of the hardships the Aliens’ demands are placing on his people and, most markedly, how his country’s policy of no surrender will continue – if necessary until the last of India’s 1.4 billion people is standing, so says PM Kumar.”

  “So Mr. Kumar thinks the aliens are watching – no one expects any reaction from them; but how did it go down amongst other members at the UN today?”

  “Dana, I spoke to our own – the American – representative and the British ambassador to the UN. Both, while sympathising with the Indian Prime Minister, warned against unnecessarily provoking the Korgax. They are already assumed to be watching the relocation programme fall apart and then we had the desperate anti-satellite missile attack by India last week…”

  “Sorry to interrupt you Travis, but we’re getting some breaking news from Mumbai…” said a concerned looking Dana. She paused for a moment, looking to her producer. He was signalling that no further details would be forthcoming for the time being and to keep it rolling with the scant details at hand.

  “...We only have sketchy reports at the moment – but from several sources – all reporting an enemy attack from orbit on Mumbai. If this turns out to be a repeat of Kota Kinabalu – a city, which before the attack had a population of 750,000 – then the results could be truly awful. Mumbai has an enormous population – something like 20 million people – so the results of another Korgax bombardment would be devastating. Travis, you just heard the breaking news. Could this be in retaliation for the Indian missile attack and PM Kumar’s rhetoric today at the UN do you think?”

  The talking heads continued to talk and millions of innocent Indians continued to die.

  ***

  December 29, 2063: Outcast Underground Base, Exelon

  Secretary of Defence Romero sat at a desk reading the report in the small Earth-atmosphere office that the Outcasts had set up adjacent to the human living quarters. He’d received it only minutes earlier by EQP transceiver from Navy SEAL, Sergeant Jake Sorensen, and now absorbed its implications. Sorensen, along with two SSS soldiers and an Outcast named Lakai, were in position on Gaia reconnoitring an enemy military base. The report told Romero of a surge in shuttle movements to and from orbit. It had started a few days ago and hadn’t relented since. They’d launched a series of hummingbird recon drones and witnessed hundreds of armoured fighting vehicles, hover tanks and exoskeleton-clad soldiers boarding the ramps of transporter shuttles. Romero had also been given regular updates from the Outcasts. Their spies were mostly non-Korgax Alphas who wanted to get rid of the hated faction as much as the Outcasts and humans did. They were placed throughout the system on freighters, space stations and other ships with views to orbital activity around the homeworld of Gaia. There were also hundreds of other anti-Korgax Alphas and covert Outcast spies positioned all over Gaia. What was clear from multiple reports was that what Sorensen was witnessing at Army Base #17 was not unique. Enemy shuttles were shifting enormous quantities of weapons systems and troops from the surface of Gaia to the hundreds of waiting transporters in orbit. They were diligently logging the movements and compiling them; the enemy’s combat strength was vital information and would be relayed back to Earth. Romero felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as he considered the planetary invasion force the Korgax were massing. This was obviously the prelude to the invasion of Earth and the numbers indicated that humanity didn’t stand a chance in a head-to-head battle. Even before the April bombardments of Earth’s militaries it would have been an unfair fight – now it was a defeat in the making. However, the predicted global insurgency would likely smoulder for a generation on the vassal Earth. Romero, as well as his planners knew that, with space dominance in Sol and command of the Tropics, nothing would move without the consent of the Korgax. Their control of Earth and space, combined with their mind-control technology, would only mean one thing: an enslaved planet Earth at the hands of a ruthless regime. Neither Romero nor the administration of President Stephen Powell could countenance this future World order. But what choice was there? The enemy held most of the cards...but not all of them, thought Romero, with a kindling of hope.

  He completed reading the latest report and made a decision. It was time to advise the President that the invasion was soon to begin. There had been no jumps to Sol yet, but all the evidence told him that it wouldn’t be long.

  ***

  After arriving from another part of the base, President Powell joined Romero in the basic but functional office.

  “Stephen, I received this update half an hour ago and I think we need to conclude the enemy mobilisation has begun.”

  Powell was not surprised – the reports had been coming in thick and fast and they were all consistent on one thing: an exponential increase in enemy movements to orbit.

  “We knew it was coming, but we’re only eighty-percent complete on the subsea FTL gate. The window of opportunity to hit them hard will soon be open. But without that subsea FTL gate we’re unlikely to take Gaia, even with most of their military on Earth,” lamented Powell, looking to Romero for a way out of this bind.

  “And we may never get the chance to transit the subs if Earth’s crawling with Korgax aircraft
. They’re far more likely to detect the subsea gate with air drones than they are from orbit,” added Romero.

  “We need a way to speed up the FTL gate completion and have all the subs in place and ready to go.”

  ***

  December 31, 2063: The Subsea FTL Gate, Gulf of Mexico

  “What a way to be spending New Year’s Eve,” complained technical diver, Richie Morris, as he got ready for the latest night-time dive off the Skandia Singapore. The fortysomething Geordie, from the Northeast of England, was one of a dying breed of skilled subsea technician-divers from oilfield. Most of the underwater systems and infrastructure was now serviceable by ROV – Remotely Operated Vehicle – so it really was a niche career. They’d stretched the usual rules about working hours and time between dives to the limit and Morris, used to North Sea regulations, was not a happy bunny. He was being paid well enough – too right, considering the number of US Navy divers he was having to coach in subsea construction and the hours he was putting in. He’d had to sign some pretty hard-core secrecy-paperwork too before starting the job two months ago. What was also enticing to his sense of conspiracy theory was that they’d done all of the dives at night. For safety reasons, it was daytime diving only in the oilfield, but here it was the complete opposite. The Yanks had all been good guys to a man, but when he’d asked them about what they were building it was just met with stony silence or a bland ‘can’t say’. Morris didn’t care, it was all just screwing stuff together and a bit of welding as far as he was concerned. If they wanted to pay him twice his normal day rate for that then who was he to question them? They’d got the accelerated schedule just yesterday and it had, apparently, come from on high. He’d overheard a mess room conversation about something to do with the Aliens finding out about the twenty-metre metal ring they were building under the Gulf of Mexico. Morris and his team were about to install forty-eight flowmeters equally spaced around the ring that was now floating neutrally buoyant five metres off the bottom. What a way to make a living! he thought before testing his regulator’s function for the final time before taking the plunge. The lights of the Skandia Singapore had been dimmed ever since they’d left Mobile, Alabama, and finding their way around by red torchlight had not been easy. Only once they were below ten metres were they allowed to switch to full white-light. All very James Bond, he thought jovially.

  ***

  The dive was nearing its end and things had gone well. The manning up with additional Navy guys had helped them get through the forty-eight installations as rapidly as the new schedule had dictated. Any longer and they’d be out of time and need to hand over to their back-to-back crew. Operations were now a round-the-clock endeavour. Just the last few turns of the torque wrench and before long, it’d be tea and biscuits in the mess room. He stopped suddenly and looked up from the flowmeter, his ears homing in on the faint, but distinctive noise of a prop. It wasn’t the dive support vessel’s prop – he’d worked from enough similar vessels to know that the pitch was all wrong and the volume would be a helluva lot louder from just above. The visibility was better than it had been in recent weeks and he scanned the darkness from left to right, curious at what it could be. It was getting progressively louder and he started to feel the first pangs of fear growing in his stomach. There! Powering past in the darkness: a massive black shape. At first, he assessed it as a whale – but that didn’t make sense – the noise was all wrong. Then everything become clear as the planes and then the prop of the undesignated sub glided past way too close for comfort.

  “What the hell was that? I think I just saw a bloody enormous sub go past! Tell me I’m not seeing things!” exclaimed Morris to the dive leader.

  “Didn’t see it, Morris. Let’s get finished up here; we’ve got five left on the dive.”

  ***

  Morris sat eating his steak and mushroom pie with mashed potatoes in the crew mess. Sitting with him was the Scottish civilian diver, Iain Kirkpatrick, and two US Navy divers, Harley and Largo. None of them had seen a thing, so they said. Morris had just received strange looks when he mentioned the sub.

  “I think wee Richie needs to stay off the wacky-backy!” joked Kirkpatrick to raucous laughter from his American colleagues.

  “What would a sub be down here for? They’d have spotted the ship from miles away on sonar. They wouldn’t endanger themselves,” offered Largo, still giving Morris a worried look as if to say, why is such a normally sane guy saying such a weird thing?

  The Skandia Singapore’s sonar operator was not laughing. Neither would be Secretary of Defence Romero when he learned of how close the SSBN Vladimir Putin had come to wrecking the subsea FTL gate they were all counting on.

  ***

  January 1, 2064: Outcast Underground Base, Exelon

  “Happy New Year, Stephen and Diego. How’s your year so far?” quipped Vice President Jefferson to his close friends and colleagues fifteen light-years away.

  “We’re fine – too much to keep us busy to be worried about much else,” replied President Powell, seriously. The truth was that he did have other worries and it was taking all of his powers of discipline to stay on task. He’d been removed from the country he was supposed to be leading for nine months and Jefferson was looking more presidential himself by the week. He was prepared to let it slide because he trusted his VP more than he trusted any other politician. Besides, he was destined to be the party’s next candidate once Powell had served out his second term. Besides, political vanity was a luxury that no right-minded politician could indulge in given the Korgax menace. And if the asteroid hit...well, there wouldn’t be much of anything or anyone left to govern. The other ‘challenge,’ as problems were euphemistically called, was with Alyssa, his wife. The strain on their marriage had been severe to say the least. No visits were possible, and she was still torn between leaving their daughter, Saskia, and Earth behind and wanting to be with the man she loved. Powell, felt that a part of his soul had been missing ever since he’d left his wife and daughter on Earth. He consoled himself with the thought that his time without them was not open-ended; one way or another this war with the Korgax would soon come to a head. For the first time in a while, he’d been feeling the rays of optimism strike his face. He only hoped Jefferson had the news to justify it.

  “Let’s start with the proposed date for LG-Day – January 15. Did the Outcast leadership endorse the date?” asked Jefferson.

  “Yes, they agree with our thinking and endorsed it. They’d co-created anyway, so it was just a rubber-stamp exercise really,” informed Defence Secretary Romero. The date was cutting it fine to the extreme, and they couldn’t delay it any further if the asteroid was to be diverted in time. The closer the 10km-wide space rock got to Earth, the more thrust it would take to push it away from collision. If nothing was done, impact would be just a month after LG-Day.

  “Great, thanks Diego. So, I’m pleased to report, we’re making good progress on the subsea FTL gate. The extra manpower seems to have done the trick; we’ve got just about every technical diver we were able to security clear on the payroll. The two practice rings have been completed and the gate itself will be ready no later than LG-Day minus one,” said Jefferson. The twenty-metre diameter practice rings were simply steel rings with sonar reflectors suspended five metres off the seabed. The assembled subs would practice passing through the dummy rings first before being cleared for the real thing.

  “And what’s the status of the surviving subs?” asked Powell.

  “The USS Esperanza and the George W Bush are already in the vicinity and have completed one practice run each. The William J. Clinton is still two days sailing away. From the Brits we have HMS Wellington, HMS Waterloo and HMS Ajax on location – no dummy runs as yet. HMS Dover is a day or so away, so the Royal Navy tells us. The Chinese and Indian subs – one-a-piece – will be here by the middle of next week,” Jefferson said. He sighed before continuing, “And then we have the naughty boy of the pack – the appropriately-named SSBN Vladimir P
utin.”

  “What happened?” asked Romero, deeply curious over Jefferson’s comments.

  “There was an incident: a near-miss really. The Putin came within ten metres of the FTL gate while the dive team was working on it. It was metres away from wrecking the damned thing! It could have cost us everything! I summoned the Russian Ambassador and gave him a piece of my mind with an urgent demand for an explanation. We’ve had nothing back from them. I’m beginning to wonder about letting them in on the whole liberation effort. We still can’t conceive of why they’d buzz the gate,” said an agitated Jefferson.

  “No, it doesn’t make sense at all. What do the spooks have to say on it?” asked Powell.

  “Nothing – they don’t get it either and suggest it was probably just a misjudgement,” replied Jefferson.

  Powell was, counter-intuitively, satisfied with this. He reasoned that if the ever-paranoid intelligence community were suggesting it then it meant they didn’t have a better, sinister theory.

  They moved on to other matters. The UK Special Space Service men – Captain Chris ‘Motor’ Buick and Sergeant Matt ‘Chip’ Hart – were due on Exelon in less than twenty-four hours’ time. They would be jumped straight from the bunker in London to Exelon orbit. Once in the base, they’d begin mission preparations along with the two Outcast technicians. The basic plan was to re-program the Korgax’s thrusters on the asteroid and thereby divert it. The thrusters they’d used to nudge the killer rock towards a collision with Earth in the first place. Getting past the enemy presence on and around the asteroid – including a massive destroyer escort – was critical, but nothing like easy.