Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2

by William C. Seigler

“This world is no more hospitable to their life form than it is to ours,” said Fitz.

  “Then what would they want with it?” asked Argie.

  Smith studied the approaching spacecraft landing arrangement. “This does not look like they are planning an assault, too spread out.”

  “Maybe that’s their normal way to enter the atmosphere,” offered Argie.

  “The last time, they were hell-bent on getting to us,” added Smith.

  “What do you mean?” asked Fitz.

  “The last time there were a huge number of ships, so many that some slammed into one another. Once on the ground, the attack was launched immediately. It’s hard to explain; it was more like a crazed mob than a military assault. They just landed, got out, and came at us.”

  “Probably why their losses were so high,” offered Fitz.

  “Sir,” said the sensor operator. “The computer thinks they are on a trajectory that will place them in the southern hemisphere.”

  “Which means that they are not after you,” said Fitz brightly.

  “Yes, and they wish to stay away from any radioactive fallout,” added Smith.

  “How do you figure?” asked Fitz.

  “Well, if the atmosphere here behaves anything like the Earth’s, the atmosphere breaks up into three cells in the northern hemisphere and three in the southern. Probably, the radioactive fallout will remain, mostly, in the northern hemisphere.

  “One of our former presidents and his family bought a large ranch in South America, sparking speculation that they expected a nuclear war on Earth,” said Smith.

  “What I find interesting is that they seemed to have had an invasion fleet ready to go when you first got here,” offered Fitz.

  “I never thought about that,” said Smith. “It is interesting that they were ready to launch at us, almost before we were properly dug in, like they knew we would be here.”

  “They did attack our empty tents immediately on arrival,” added Argie.

  The three exchanged long glances as the full meaning of what they were saying sank in. “That can mean only one thing,” said Argie. “Someone among the Separatists is in collusion with the enemy.”

  “We have a traitor in our midst,” groaned Fitz.

  The room had fallen silent as they spoke. “But who would do such a thing?” continued Argie.

  “Perhaps it was the same people who assassinated your Prime Minister and sent the Legion off to be destroyed,” answered Smith.

  “The Schiller-von Karlstad faction,” said Fitz. “There is no one else.”

  “We need proof,” said Smith. “I wonder if the Greys can help us.”

  “How?” asked Argie.

  “Perhaps they could prove that there has been clandestine communication between someone among the Separatists and the Reptilians,” answered Smith.

  To Cee, Smith said, “Unfortunately, you seem to be trapped here with us.”

  “We can evade these Reptilians,” said Cee.

  “Yes, but it’s too dangerous. They might start looking around and find us. The Reptilians will not be too happy to find out that they have not destroyed us.”

  It was not clear to Smith whether or not Fitz could listen in.

  Fitz spoke up, “We’re stuck here too, aren’t we?”

  “So it would seem Commander,” answered Smith. “At least for now.”

  Chapter 29 - Criminals and Spies

  Admiral La Force could not believe how bedraggled Commander Blackstone looked as he stood in La Force’s study. “Sit Commander, can I get you something?”

  “No sir, I had better eat before I have anything to drink.”

  “Have you not been eating?”

  “I put myself on half rations after the time passed when Commander Fitzpatrick should have returned. As rations began to run low, I cut my rations in half again.”

  “My god man, come into the kitchen. Let’s see if we can find you something.”

  As La Force prepared his subordinate a sandwich, Blackstone related what had happened and how Lieutenant Commander Fitzpatrick had gone off in the tiny scout ship.

  “I’m sorry sir. I probably should have gone myself.”

  “Nonsense Commander, Fitzpatrick is not a pilot, and you are. You both took the only course of action open to you. To be honest, I was getting more than a little worried.”

  “I remained on station as long as I dared,” said Blackstone.

  “I know you did. I do not second guess your every command decision. Here, sandwiches are about all I ever learned to make.”

  “Thank you sir. If I might ask, what has transpired while I’ve been away?”

  As Blackstone began eating, La Force brought him up to date. “Your man Appleton has established positive identification of the man who was found dead in his hotel room on New Earth. He was a washout from our society, named Felix Carpenter. He went by the nickname, Roach.

  “There is some evidence that he worked for someone on the Moon, but we have not been able to establish anything conclusive.”

  “Rill City, does that mean Parliament?”

  “I suspect it does. Schiller is our new Prime Minister, and he has wasted no time purging supporters of the Legion. He aims to wipe that ‘stain’ as he put it, out of the cultural memory of our people.”

  Between bites, Blackstone said, “I really don’t see how he hopes to win the war without a ground force.”

  “Neither do I. I don’t know what has happened to naval command either. They have fallen in line with everything Schiller and von Karlstad want.”

  “Maybe it’s what they secretly wanted themselves.”

  “Yes, but we’ve proven that aerial bombardment was not effective,” insisted La Force.

  “How has your report been received?”

  “It fell into a black hole. I haven’t heard one peep out of anyone. I keep getting subtle hints about retirement.”

  “Someone wants to keep you quiet,” observed Blackstone.

  “Yes, and I’m keeping quiet, but I’m still running my investigation. I’m just pretending to go along with their skullduggery. I’ll get to the bottom of this if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Blackstone finished the last of his tea. “I know you will sir. Now with your permission, I would like to resupply and get back on station.”

  “You sure you’re up to it?” asked La Force.

  “I have to be sir. I don’t want the history books to say that I was the weak link when civilization was in the jaws of the dragon.”

  La Force chuckled. “Yes, if there is any history, or rather if we are the ones writing it. To be honest, for the first time, I’ve starting to wonder if we can win this war.”

  “I’ve had some time on my hands sir, and I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “Go on,” said La Force.

  “It seems to me that the whole problem revolves around the Reptilians having the star jump drive.”

  “Yes, I suppose it does. What are you getting at?”

  “I doubt if the technology has permeated their society. In fact, it is quite possibly on a need to know basis only.” Blackstone looked across the kitchen table at La Force and gave a lopsided grin.

  “So, if we hit them in the right place, the war would be over for all practical purposes,” added La Force, thoughtfully. “Yes, you might have something there Commander, you might just have something.”

  The Admiral paused for a moment, and the smile drained from his face. “If such a raid could be pulled off, Schiller and von Karlstad would take all the credit for winning the war. That would make our position even more desperate.”

  “Yes it would, unless of course the Legion was the one to conduct the raid,” Blackstone said thoughtfully.

  “I suppose that would keep Schiller and von Karlstad from hogging
up all the credit, and it would prove the worth of the Legion. But how could such a thing be done?”

  “The only way it can be done is to enlist the Greys. They are the only ones who can get the Legion off that planet, and they certainly have the technology to insert teams of Legion sappers to set explosives,” answered Blackstone.

  “I’m afraid this would probably be a better job for that new attack spacecraft von Karlstad’s people have dreamed up.”

  “Only if enemy facilities are above ground, and we’ve seen their proclivity toward underground burrows.”

  “Yes,” said La Force excitedly. “Then the only way is to get ground troops in and blow the facilities to bits. Do it with atomics, all the better.

  “But I’ll never sell it to the admiralty, or anyone else for that matter,” he added. “Though I must admit, your idea has merit, thousands of details to be worked out though. First and foremost, how do we enlist the Greys, and how do we do it without getting caught?”

  “If Commander Fitzpatrick makes it back, we might be able to get Cee in on the plan.”

  “If they come back, and if the Greys don’t bury Cee in the deepest hole they can find, if we are not discovered, and about a hundred more ‘ifs’,” retorted La Force.

  “Yes sir. Perhaps the direct approach will work.”

  “Direct approach?”

  “Go find the highest-ranking Grey we can and explain the situation to him. Maybe we can make some headway.”

  “Yes, before Schiller has our heads. Perhaps we should save that as a last resort,” said La Force.

  “Yes sir, but there has got to be a way.”

  “While we are on the subject of the Greys, I wonder if they knew anything about dumping the Legion off on a world where they surely would come under attack. Could they be in on it?”

  “I have no way of knowing, but it seems highly unlikely,” responded Blackstone. “They’ve lost more in this war than we have.”

  “The Grey high command must be aware of what’s happened. How could they not be? They might be open to our suggestion if they knew von Karlstad’s raid was not as successful as they hoped.”

  “You say your report has gone nowhere? I imagine if the Greys get wind of the mission’s failure, they might be happy to help rescue the Legion.”

  “You’re taking to this cloak and dagger business rather well, Commander.”

  “Thank you sir, I think.”

  “Did that fill you up?”

  “Oh yes, I’m fine. Besides, I don’t want to overdo it all at once.”

  “Good idea. How soon before you are ready to head back out?”

  “Give me twenty-four hours. I should be able to provision the spacecraft in that time. I’ll need your authorization to depart and get clearance.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”

  “If that’s all sir, I’ll be heading back to base.”

  “Yes, good. You’ve done well Commander.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  Blackstone departed leaving La Force alone with his thoughts. Assuming we can save the Legion, what then?

  “It’s not like they can rejoin us as though nothing has happened,” he said aloud. No, they will have to become their own command, separate from us. That can only mean that they will have to work directly with the Greys. There is no other way.

  He snorted, “That should be fun.”

  He took another drink and soon drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  “Brandy, Mr. Chu?” asked Schiller.

  “Yes, please.” He waited as Schiller filled his glass.

  “Here you are,” said Schiller setting the expensive etched glass decanter down.

  “Thank you.” Chu drank slowly and waited. Schiller would get around to what he had to say, soon enough.

  Schiller sipped then sat his glass down. “How have you been? Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

  Chu chuckled, “My new post is keeping me busy. Soon the party vice president will be out, and I have to be ready to step in.”

  “Good, good, there are always a thousand details to be worked out.” He took another sip and took on a pensive look, as he appeared to inspect something on the ceiling at the far end of the room.

  “And the Legion?” prompted Chu.

  “Ah yes, the Legion. The Legion will no longer be a consideration.”

  “Then they have been destroyed?” Chu asked. Schiller’s love for the dramatic could sometimes be annoying. Chu just raised his glass, made a small toast, took another drink, and waited.

  Schiller responded by waving his glass and leaning toward Chu. He spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “My contact has reported that it cost many fighters, but the Legion is destroyed. They nuked them. By now, any survivors are dead. Our plan was a complete success, and you my friend, were an integral part of it.”

  He raised his glass to Chu.

  “Thank you. I’m glad everything has worked out so well.”

  “It has worked out as it should,” said Schiller, correcting him. “Now, there is something else I need you to do for me.”

  Finally, we get to the point, Chu thought.

  “Of course, how may one serve?”

  “Ah yes, that’s the aggressive approach I’ve always liked about you, Mr. Chu.”

  “One does one’s best.”

  “Yes of course. This concerns Admiral La Force.”

  “Oh yes, what has that old troublemaker been up to?”

  “He sent forward his report on von Karlstad’s air assault. He claims that it was not a complete success.

  “How much of a ‘not a complete success’?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. The team La Force sent was lucky to get out alive. It seems they took two of those little vehicles people use to run around on the beach and over sand dunes on New Earth. For the life of me, I cannot understand why. Of course, I managed to bury the report.”

  “That’s good,” said Chu.

  “Yes, if that report had made the rounds, it could have created problems for us. We must see to it that it never surfaces.”

  “And La Force’s ill-advised investigation into the unfortunate death of our former Prime Minister, what has become of that?”

  “Oh that, apparently it has come to a halt. There have been no more reports sent to the Admiralty. The last one maintained that he did not have the manpower necessary to continue the investigation, and suggested that everything be turned over to NSY.”

  “Did he find anything of importance?” asked Chu.

  “No, fortunately, he came to one dead-end after another.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “He seems deaf to the suggestions that he retire, so I am concerned that he might try to push that report again.”

  Chu pursed his lips and considered what course of action was most appropriate. “You want me to go and see him; get him to think the Prime Minister has taken a personal interest in the report?”

  “Yes, that might work. More importantly, make sure he keeps quiet about it. I don’t know, tell him there might be another star in it for him if he lets my office handle it.”

  “Yes, self-interest, always a good ploy,” said Chu.

  “Can you do it?”

  “Of course,” answered Chu. “Do you happen to know when the next jump ship is due to depart?”

  “Two days from now at 1630 in the evening, I do believe.”

  Of course, you know.

  “That should work out fine. I’ll purchase a ticket and get some things done in the office.”

  “Oh, no need to do that.” Schiller went over to his desk and entered a code. The third drawer on the right side opened silently. He examined the case before opening it and removing a small oval chip. Schiller slid the par
liamentary oval into a device on the wall. He punched in some information, then removed it when a panel light went green.

  “Here take this. It will also help you get in to see the Admiral without any trouble.” He handed the Parliamentary Cart Blanche to Chu.

  “Thank you.”

  “You will not even need to make a reservation. Just show this when you go to board.”

  “All right two days from now I will depart for New Earth and visit our Admiral La Force. Then I’ll assure him of your personal interest in his report, and insinuate that, should he leave it to us and remain quiet, there might be another star in it for him. Seems straight forward enough.”

  “There is one other thing. There must be nothing concerning his investigation left in his possession,” insisted Schiller.

  “I will take all his notes,” assured Chu.

  “That is what I’ve always admired about you Mr. Chu, a clear understanding of the task ahead along with determination to do it. I do so hate having to micromanage subordinates.”

  There was an almost imperceptible change in the atmosphere with the utterance of the word, “subordinate”.

  Chu finished his drink in one gulp. “Well sir, if that is all, I must be going.”

  “Yes, yes of course.” Schiller rose and showed Mr. Chu to the door.

  As Chu walked back toward the main thoroughfare, he was slowly burning inside. At first, he could not tell why; then it hit him.

  Subordinate! He knew that is what he was, but now that he was special assistant to the vice chairman of the party, he did not like the way it felt.

  The perks were too nice. In spite of what they told each other all the time, old British ideas concerning aristocracy came to the Moon with them. No one spoke of it openly, just as no one spoke of the rivalry with the French who had allied themselves with the Russians, Chinese, and others from the East.

  At the moment the British - German clutch held sway, and nobody rocked the boat. The balance was too delicate. Neither group was large enough or strong enough to make it alone. Therefore, the whole society played dumb, and everybody got along, at least publicly.

  * * * *

  For many of the younger people, the old tribal affiliations did not really matter. Such was the result of the forthcoming marriage between Mei Ling and Lieutenant Commander Fitzpatrick. He knew that a marriage within the British orbit could benefit him politically, but like many of his generation, he cared for none of it.