“Captain,” called a seated sailor. “That laser also cut through the duct around our propeller. We’ll move in water but we won’t be silent any longer.”
Leonard gestured No Worry with a hand. “There you have it. As for our Harpoon missiles, two of them were knocked out by the tail-end ship’s rear lasers.”
In the comlink holo Captain Baraka raised a hand. “Two of our Harpoons were also killed by laser fire. A third ran into something that made it dissolve. Maybe it was hit with this plasma battery fire you spoke of?”
“Captains, what about the remaining Harpoons?” Bill asked. “Two I think are still live. And my system graphic shows they are getting very close to that last ship.”
“They are indeed,” said Jane, her tone suddenly animated. “Closer, closer—”
“A hit!” Bill yelled as his systems graphic showed a yellow dot converging with the purple dot of the tail-end Charlie ship of the Collector fleet.
The ceiling speaker hummed. “The ship mind of the last Collector ship reports one of its two Magfield engines is melted by the nearby blast of a thermonuclear warhead,” said Star Traveler. “It says the warhead was going to miss direct contact. However the warhead’s magnetic field sensor activated it when field intensity reached maximum. It exploded within a mile of the Collector hull. The plasma ball from the blast touched one side of the ship’s hull.”
Bill looked up. “Star Traveler, what say the ship minds of the two front ships that we hit?”
Humming sounded. “The ship minds report minor hull damage in their forward chambers. One ship’s Transport Exit Chamber was breached to space, while the other ship’s Greenery Chamber and Command Bridge were briefly penetrated. Before the ship skin moved to close the rupture.”
On his system graphic holo Bill could see the tail-end Collector ship lagging behind the other five. Which now moved to encircle it protectively. The speed of the Alien fleet slowed to three hundred thousand miles an hour. Which would put them within Earth low orbit in forty minutes.
“Excellent result!” Jane called. “Captains Baraka and Leonard, pass on to your crews my—”
“Incoming neutrino signal from Diligent Taskmaster,” the AI interrupted.
“Accept it,” Jane said, her expression irritated at first, then going to command formal.
In the comlink holo the four captains were reduced to tiny icons while the walking cockroach filled the holo. It stood on its Command Bridge. Thin streamers of black smoke floated behind the critter, their edges already lifting to the ceiling as circulators began sucking the smoke out of the bridge.
“You Humans!” it rasped. “You are an irritant the universe can do without! I see your four Magfield allies are just transports and two Earth submarines. As I expected, no true Collector ship captain would ever ally with you primitives!”
Jane grinned suddenly. “We’ve just begun our attacks. You and your allies may leave our system now. We will permit your departure. Approach Earth, and you will lose your ship. The other captains will lose their ships. And whomever survives our takeover of your ships will live out their lives under a dome on the cold, nearly airless surface of the red planet Mars. Oh. Did I mention the domes do not have shielding against cosmic rays and our solar winds? That might affect your lifespans.”
The cockroach tapped a control pillar. “You lie again. We will shortly arrive above your Earth and remove your tiny space stations and any satellite within range of our weapons. Then we will send collector pods down to collect humans for sale on our Market worlds.” The creature paused, looked down, then up. “My Library archive has provided me with a list of Human space launch locations. Advise your fellow humans that every place where you launch into space will be destroyed by us. Any Human device that opposes us will also be destroyed. If you and your tiny fleet attack us again, we will fill space with antimatter and vaporize you. You are a blight upon the face of reality!”
The Alien’s image disappeared.
“And you are have no idea just how sneaky we humans can be,” Jane murmured, a half-smile on her face. She looked to him.
“Bill, time to get your people into their collector pods. In an hour or so we will be launching you.”
He stood up, saluted her and headed back for his buddies from Denver and MacDill. Gathering them up with a wave, he opened the bridge exit door with his red cube and turned left, leading them to their destiny in the Collector Pods Chamber.
♦ ♦ ♦
The 18 spec ops folks stood in six clusters of three fighters each. Three SEALs led the folks from MacDill. Leaders they were, people who had shown innovation and creativity during the boarding exercises. Jake’s group included the Green Beret Francis and Alonzo the PJ from the last boarding exercise. Mack the SEAL’s group included the Hindu female Green Beret and an Air Force Special Tactics guy. Janice’s team included the other PJ and the second Air Force Special Tactics guy. Bill looked to the right, fixing on his Denver buddies. Standing confident were Stefano and his team of Bob the ex-Marine and Mohawk-girl Cassandra of Air Force Special Tactics. Next to him were Alicia and her team, who included Mark the Ranger and Howard of the Air Force. Last team was the one led by barrel-chested Frank, who had chosen Chris of the Rangers and Joe of the Coast Guard as his team members. They all stood as one group, not as the Denver crowd versus the MacDill crowd. Thirty-five hours of non-stop tactical scenarios had welded them into a mission-focused unity. He liked that.
“People, in forty minutes we will be in Earth orbit, on the opposite side of Earth from where the Collector fleet comes in.” He paused, seeing the loading hatches of six white collector pod teardrops open as the ship’s AI anticipated him. “Two reasons for that. First, we don’t want the Collectors to see your pods exiting our ship. Second, we want to give the American, Russian and Chinese navies and air forces a clear field of fire to low Earth orbit.” He paused, looking around to confirm that everyone wore their laser-resistant chest and back plates over their vacsuits, along with backpacks carrying white tasers, red lasers and ball and bar explosives. Star Traveler would give each team leader the activation code sequences for the explosives once everyone was aboard their pod. “According to General Poindexter, the Russians have deployed their Borei-class and Typhoon-class missile launching subs to both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. The Chinese have land-based missiles ready to go up on ASAT missions from their launch sites at Xichang, Jiuquan, Taiyuan and Wenchang. Some of their Type 095 missile launching subs and several of their Luda-class and Luhu-class guided missile destroyers will be active in the Pacific. While each of your pods will carry an IFF transponder to alert Earth forces against shooting at you, still, I prefer to keep you folks on the opposite side of Earth from where the initial space battles happen.”
Wide-shouldered Frank gave him a big grin. “Weapons Chief, we understand all that. Nice to hear America has some allies in this fight. But why are you standing there like a dummy? We’re ready to board.”
Bill kept forgetting how well his saloon buddies knew him, knew his moods and knew his body language. They still understood him even after him being way for nine months. And they’d honored his request to assemble at the saloon, then had volunteered for this wild-hair space adventure. He grinned back. “Cause I damn well wish I was going with you guys!” That drew understanding looks from all of them, including the MacDill people. “But I gotta man the weapons of this tub and serve as a distraction so the Collector ship crews will be more focused on our fleet than on the returning pods. I’m expecting them to do the routine—send a single crewperson down to collect the knocked senseless human from each pod that arrives. One alert crewperson versus a disabled human. Your greeter may carry a taser. No matter. You fire first!”
Jake nodded. “Of course we will, Weapons Chief. And we will sweet-talk the ship mind just the way you taught us. Now?”
Bill nodded. “Go ahead. Board your pods. Be prepared for a wait onboard, though. This ship and the rest of the fleet will likely lau
nch missiles against the Collector ships. They expect us to fight them again. We will oblige.”
Sandy-haired Alicia looked his way as she became the last to board her pod, where it sat on the lowest tier of the three-tier rack that held the ship’s 24 collector pods. “Boss, don’t worry about us. You go play with your lasers.”
“I will. And everyone,” he said, knowing even those now sealed into pods could hear him over their vacsuit comlinks. “Remember we expect progress reports from each of you! Let us know when you’ve taken out the greeter Alien. And for sure let us know if you encounter any nasty surprises. The Minnesota has offered to come to your aid with sub security folks . . . if we can suppress the counterfire of whatever ship you are on.”
Alicia waved and said nothing. Her tall, slim form disappeared into the dark cargohold of a collector pod. The white hatch closed behind her, turning her pod into the white teardrop that was so aerodynamically perfect for flying through a world with dense air. Bill looked up at the chamber’s high ceiling.
“Star Traveler, thanks for opening the hatches. And . . . keep them safe as you can.”
“I will do as you wish,” the AI hummed low in a tone he thought sounded sympathetic. “When we launch these pods, I will make certain they head to their target ship as part of a group of returning pods. You call it camouflage.”
“I do,” Bill said as he turned, shrugged to loosen the fit on his vacsuit of his backpack, then entered the chamber’s airlock and headed for the exit door to the right side main hallway. He pointed a red cube at the door. It slid open faster than he could blink. He hoped Jane had been watching the volunteers enter their pods. She and Richardson and the entire crew had heard everything said here, thanks to the vacsuit comlinks being linked to the Blue Sky’s ship comlink. “And tell your fellow ship minds that my people are coming to free them from being slaves to bioforms who think nothing of treating thinking people as if they were property. To do with as they wish, with no consideration of a lifeform’s wishes.”
His helmet speaker hummed. “I have already conveyed this mission purpose to my fellow ship minds,” the AI said, his tone patient. “They understand. They will allow our pods entry to their ships. They will report our pod arrival as one of their own pods returning with a captive human. And they will cooperate in the human effort to take control of their ship’s Command Bridge as much as they can. They too have feelings.”
Bill knew that. It was his awareness of how people-like the ship minds really were that made him think Jane’s plan would work. Now, time to head for his weapons station. They had to fight against the arriving Collector ships as if their small fleet were the only defense against the Alien effort to force humanity out of space and back to the land. A seclusion that he suspected would be maintained far into the future by other Collector ships that came calling for human captives.
♦ ♦ ♦
The six Collector ships arrived in Earth orbit just above the island of Hawaii, with the blue expanse of the Pacific stretching far below them. Bill knew this thanks to the spysats they had earlier seeded into geosync orbit. His ship the Blue Sky, the two subs and the two transports were station-keeping at 200 miles above Nova Scotia, which was low enough to keep them out of direct line of sight of the Collector ships holding station above Hawaii. Each ship’s Magfield engines would maintain them in low orbit above the island chain. He looked to his left. Richardson, wearing a vacsuit and clear helmet like Bill and everyone else on the bridge, gave him a thumbs-up.
“The Minnesota and the Louisiana report they are fully operational,” the stocky man said. “They are missile launch ready and they have nearly full loads of Harpoons, ASROCs and SUBROCs ready to launch as needed,” he said. The man’s short brown hair looked perfectly combed under the glimmer of his helmet.
Bill nodded back. The admiral’s perfect appearance was something that rubbed him the wrong way. He’d trimmed his overgrown beard before heading down to see his saloon buddies, and he kept himself clean and fit. His clothes were never grungy, thanks to the habitat room’s automated cleaner device. Still, he felt scruffy while sitting next to the Chief of Naval Operations. “Vice admiral, thank you. They performed well out past the Moon. Now comes more complicated operations. Captain?”
Jane looked his way. In the comlink holo on his right side she looked nearly as well-trimmed as the CNO. Her shoulder-length black hair was tied back with a red band. Tall, slim and nicely curvy, with sun-tanned arms, her blue camo ABU looked as if it had come fresh from a laundromat steam pressor. The long fingers of her right hand danced atop the Library pillar that lay on the right side of her command seat. She fixed dark brown eyes on him, her expression business-like but not formal. “Yes, Weapons Chief?”
He gestured at the true space holo on his upper right. “The spysats say the Collector ships are strung out in a line, not clustered. All orbit at 250 miles up. The tail-end Charlie ship is last in line but it does seem operational. Although its station-keeping is a bit jerky, compared to the other ships. All Collectors are holding fixed above Hawaii by use of their Magfield drives. As we do here above Nova Scotia.” He saw a dozen green flares in the holo that showed a live image of the six Collector ships. “They’ve just knocked out the ISS station and the Russian station.” The green flares repeated, then repeated again and again. “Plus they’ve laser-killed a dozen of our GPS satellites, our SBSS pathfinder sat, half the Iridium sats, several polar orbit sats, the Hubble scope and half of China’s Beidou comsat network. Our geosync stuff is intact, for the moment.” More green flares showed. “They just killed a Russian Typhoon sub that launched ICBMs at them.” He moved a hand to above his Ship Weapons fire control pillar. “When do we attack?”
“Not quite yet,” she said. “I promised to call General Poindexter once we arrived in orbit. To coordinate with her and to learn what the American and other forces are doing.”
“Weapons Chief,” called Richardson. “We do have allies in this fight. It’s no longer just the Blue Sky and your transports against every nasty Alien.”
Bill bit his lip to forestall a hasty reply. “Vice admiral, I do understand that. And I saw those allies risk their lives in the Moon battle. I’m just . . . I just want to do something rather than sit and wait.”
“Bill,” called Jane, her tone sympathetic. “None of us like to wait. Anyone who is active duty wants to act, not wait. But fighting smart involves tactical waits in order to achieve our strategic purpose. Which involves me coordinating with the JCS.” In the comlink holo she looked up. “Star Traveler, establish a neutrino comlink with Peterson. Signal the call is for General Poindexter.”
“Complying,” the AI hummed low. “Link established.”
The comlink holo on Bill’s right filled with the image of the Air Force chief of staff and four star general. The woman’s black face showed worry. “Captain Yamaguchi, thank you for the neutrino comlink sharing of your battle out by the Moon. Was good to see our subs doing their share.” The woman sat at the same video display table where previously she and the other chiefs had talked with Jane. Behind and to either side of her, Bill saw the moving forms of staff airmen. Four of the JCS chiefs sat nearby at other display tables. Poindexter gestured aside. “Chairman McAuley is in DC with the President. Everyone else is coordinating with our forces in the field. What are your plans? Beyond the Stage Two infiltration of collector pods into the Collector ships.”
Jane sat stiffly upright in her seat, her manner command formal. “General, I report our Moon battle achieved engine damage to one Collector ship and minor hull damage to two other Collector ships. At present, we orbit above Nova Scotia. From this point we will launch our collector pods once we see the Collectors launching their pods. Before that happens, we will attack them! While I doubt any missile of ours will be able to take out a Collector ship, still, they are the enemy. They are attacking American space assets. And the Aliens expect us to make another attack on them.” She grinned wolfishly. “I plan to accommodate the
m.”
Poindexter’s black eyelashes whisked down then up. “That means multiple thermonuke explosions in low Earth orbit, yes?”
“It does,” Jane said. “Thermonukes, lasers and our antimatter projector are the only weapons capable of harming, or even bothering, the Collector ships.”
“Understood,” the woman said, turning to a male aid and whispering in his ear. She turned back to face Jane. “Captain Poindexter, I’ve given orders to use the Emergency Alert system to advise citizens to expect bright fireballs in the sky. They will be assured that no fallout will reach ground level. Is that correct?”
“That is correct,” Jane said, not looking his way. They had discussed this series of tactical nuke attacks right after waking up. “Fallout requires dirt and air to contaminate. There is none of that in Earth orbit. And the neutrons and x-rays produced by such blasts are buffered by our atmosphere. The American populace can be assured we will only use non-nuclear munitions for any attack within atmosphere.”
The black woman nodded abruptly. “So I assumed from our prior consults. Good fortune on your distraction attack. And may your boarding pods find success!”
“General, thank you,” Jane said. She looked at Bill. “Weapons Chief, you may—”
“One moment!” interrupted Poindexter as two airmen rushed to her side, offering her smartphones. The woman looked at the phones, then to the desktop display screen. She gave a deep sigh and looked up. “We’ve had our first losses. We just lost the USS Carl Vinson and the USS Theodore Roosevelt supercarriers to green beams fired by something above them. They were patrolling off of Hawaii. Both ships had launched F-16s armed with Pegasus ASAT missiles. Those planes fired their Pegasus missiles at four of the Collector ships.” She looked down, then up. “The missiles were destroyed before they reached orbit. Clearly the planes were backtracked to the carriers. Captain, you are ordered to use all means at your disposal to defend America!”
Escape 2: Fight the Aliens Page 10