by J. F. Holmes
Making sure the creature was still under, he returned to the cockpit. Once there, Ikeda checked that the emergency controls were what he thought they were, and started hitting buttons. The craft bucked wildly as he sent it into a slow spin towards the ocean, several thousand feet below. With any luck, the Invy flight controllers would assume a series of malfunctions in the craft.
He went back to the ramp area and proceeded to strap on a bulky parachute and kit bag. Then he leaned in close to the two hundred pound Invy and ran straps around it, securing the creature to his slight frame. Unfolding a baton, he reached out and hit the emergency hatch release. With a crash and a rush of air, the ramp flew off, and both of them were thrown out into the airstream, with the Sea of Japan glistening in the moonlight below.
Keeping his eyes on the horizon, Major Ikeda glanced intermittently at his altimeter, and at five hundred feet, pulled the ripcord. The opening shock seemed enough to tear the Invy from him, the dead weight pulling at the harness. Off in the distance, already miles away, the shuttle hit the water and exploded in a flash as the fusion containment bottle let go. The shock wave swung him wildly in the air, and the soldier fought to control the chute.
They hit the water with a deep splash, and it was colder than he expected. He wondered whether the Dragon would drown or die from the cold if the floatation devices didn’t work. They inflated with a hiss, and they were cradled in the nitrogen filled cushions, bobbing in the slight swell.
Twenty minutes later, the Invy started to come around, and hissed and spat at him. The translator, though, seemed to have been shorted out by the water, and the cold didn’t seem to be affecting him. Ikeda raised the tranquilizer again and shot the creature, with a grin of satisfaction on his normally reserved face.
A gray head broke the surface, and a face with its own grin stared out at him. The dolphin chittered once, giving the words he recognized for “no shark, metal whale come”, dove, then leapt high in the air, disappearing into the deep. It was followed by two heads wearing full face masks, quickly swimming over and affixing a breathing apparatus to the paralyzed Invy. In turn, one handed a small tank, fins and mask to Ikeda. They took the Invy in tow and pulled him beneath the surface. Ikeda followed their glow sticks into the depths, and, as the pressure built up, an immense shape loomed up before him. They climbed into an open hatch in the submarine, all four managing to fit, and waited as the air lock cycled. One of the divers opened the hatch set in the floor, to reveal a smiling face in the blue coveralls of the United States Navy.
“Major Ikeda, I’m Captain Sarah Larken, skipper of the CEFS Vermont. Welcome aboard, and thanks for bringing the CEF its first live Dragon.”
Ikeda bowed deeply to the woman, who was very slight, but had sparkling green eyes. “Thank you, Captain-sama,” he said in perfect English. “May it be the beginning of the end.”
Chapter 13
One thing the submarine had, if nothing else, was coffee, something he deeply missed. Major Ikeda took another sip of the hot liquid, feeling it almost, but not quite, burn his tongue. It went a long way towards driving off the chill of his immersion in the cold ocean.
“Where, if I may ask, do you get this?” He looked over the rim of the cup at Captain Larken. She was furiously typing a report that would be transmitted by ansible from Vilyuchinsk to Raven Rock. Before that, he would again be let out of the diver’s chamber to meet up with a small fishing boat, and sail back to Honshu. He had already given her a data stick with his report on the mission, and an update on the situation in the Japanese Islands.
“Before we rounded the Horn for this trip, we stopped by Jamaica and traded with the uplifted silverback gorilla colony there,” she answered, not stopping her typing.
He pondered that for a moment, and asked, “I thought the Great Apes were working with the Invy.”
She shrugged, and said, “I think the uplifted are finding that their benefactors are not all they’re made out to be. That’s the problem with intelligence, it seeks freedom. Maybe they’re too much like us, I dunno, but we transported a few dozen across the Atlantic three years ago, at their request.” She paused, hammered out a few sentences, and continued, “As far as the Invy know, they vanished somewhere in Africa.”
“And the virus?” he asked. “Is it still effective?”
“Yes,” she answered curtly. “We can’t make landfall between thirty north and thirty south. Found that out the hard way, lost my XO.”
Ikeda nodded, and both were silent for a moment, giving respect to a fallen warrior. After a minute, Larken resumed typing.
‘Major, I have an Operations Order for your higher command. Red Dawn is going to happen within the next year.”
A look of surprise crossed his normally passive face, but quickly disappeared. It had to happen soon, he knew. Time was against them.
She guessed what he was thinking. “We’re down to seven boats, five American and two Russian. CEFS Knyaz Pozharskiy failed to show last month for her refit at McMurdo.
“Invy action?” he asked.
“No, probably not, just getting worn out. I won’t take the Vermont anywhere near her rated depth anymore; every time I do the Chief has a heart attack and bolts start popping out. Plus, our weapons systems are just rotting away.”
He sipped on his coffee and thought, wondering what he was cleared to know. Finally, he asked, “What about the bases? I know you are on your way to Vilyuchinsk. Aren’t they capable of doing a refit?”
“They WERE,” she answered. “Three months ago one of the Russian Colonels, the Main Force Commander, decided that he wanted to set up his own little kingdom underground. There was some pretty hard fighting between the rebels, loyalists, and our Marine detachment.” She gave a nod to Ikeda. “The Scout teams remained loyal. Siberians, tough bastards. But long story short, they managed to destroy some of our lubricant stores and the main gantry crane over the sub pens. So now we can’t load out large volumes of stores, and we’re running dry on the everyday shit we need to run the sub. Our next trip is to McMurdo, which is a very long haul.”
The woman looked tired, and Major Ikeda knew what an immense strain she must have been under these last eleven years. “Thank you for the information,” he said, “it is hard to live in such a disconnected world. I knew this Russian colonel, from my time there training. An ugly man.” He didn’t ask what had happened to the rebels.
“How are things in Japan?” the Captain asked, to change the subject. “If I could, I’d put you in for a Congressional Medal of Honor for that stunt you just pulled off. That’s the first live Dragon we’ve ever captured.”
“Yes,” he answered. “If it had not looked like an accident, they would have destroyed every human habitation within three hundred miles. It took a very long time to plan.”
“Well, he is going to come in handy for Doctor Morano’s research. If we could come up with a species wide viral …”
“Then the orbitals would destroy the planet. Let’s not hope for too much. But I am glad to have helped, in my small part. The Empress will honor me. I have been told I will be awarded my third Bukōchōshō, but what do these things matter to old soldiers like us, no?”
“Not much,” she laughed. “I don’t even HAVE a president to give me a CMH. Or a Congress, either. Maybe Archangel will give me something.”
“Archangel?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Never mind, slip of the tongue, as we say in America. Or used to say, I haven’t been back there in twelve years.”
Both were quiet after that, and drank their coffee in silence, remembering families and a world that was gone forever.
They were interrupted by Master Chief Ball, who knocked on her cabin door and then stuck his head in without invitation. “Pardon me, Ma’am, but the dolphins have whale song that indicates Invy activity overhead, incoming and a hundred klicks out. Sonar hasn’t picked up anything yet.”
“Thank God for the whales, we’d be dead long ago. Biggest mistake th
e Invy ever made, though why they help us, I don’t know. Lord knows we don’t deserve it.”
She got up briskly and said to the Japanese Officer, “This shouldn’t interfere with your rendezvous. The Invy don’t know shit about deep water operations, but we’ll have to drop down below the thermocline for a few hours. Thank you again, for what you did.” The she followed the Chief of the Boat, barking orders at passing crew.
Ikeda sat and watched as the coffee in his mug tilted to one side, indicating that the sub was angling downward. Then he closed his eyes and remembered.
Remembered the cherry blossoms, and his wife feeding Riko as she sat on the blanket, the baby just taking her first steps. Remembered the flash as the first kinetic strikes hit Tokyo, and Asa and Riko disappeared into dust, while he watched on a monitor from his dispersal site.
“Anata wa jigoku ni ita, Warren,” he said, and then repeated it in English. “Damn you to hell.”
Chapter 14
Feeling like he was out of his element on the submarine, the Japanese soldier sat in the Captain’s cabin, waiting for someone to tell him what to do during such an alert. He idly wondered what it would be like if an Invy thunderbolt struck the sub; probably wouldn’t even know it. A near miss would be horrible, though. Stranded on the bottom, air running out in the darkness. He shuddered and was glad for his job on dry land, risking being shot by plasma weapons.
On the desk in front of him sat Captain Larken’s open laptop, and a thought struck him. Although he was a Scout in the Confederated Earth Forces, his primary loyalty was to Japan, and by extension, to the Empress who was the divine representation of the gods on Earth. His rational mind knew that was pretty much a myth, but some deep, primal feeling inside him burned hotly at the thought of the long history of his country, and the unbroken line of the Sword, Rose and Mirror through the centuries.
He stood up and, making sure the door was closed, slid around the desk. The screen was lit, but locked. He pressed CTRL+ALT+DEL and a user name appeared, with a name, LarkenJ, and a request for password. He cursed and started to get up, when the door slid open, and Master Chief Ball stepped into the cabin.
Ikeda immediately stepped around the desk and rested lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to move in any direction. The Master Chief was a burly man, and though he didn’t look like he trained in any martial arts, he had the stance of a brawler. In the close confines of a room like this, Ikeda knew that his Karate would do little good, and he wished he had spent more time on Aikido or Jujitsu.
“Major, don’t even think about it,” said the American. “We would both come out bloody, bruised and broken, and the ship’s Master at Arms is standing outside the door. Where would you really go, anyway?”
“I understand. As you know, we have no ansible connection at our country headquarters, and we are desperate for information as to the state of the world.”
Ball didn’t say anything, just pushed past him and sat down at the computer. To Ikeda’s astonishment, he started typing, then turned the laptop to him. It was on the regular home screen, with a picture of the Vermont proudly flying the US Navy Ensign in front of a city Ikeda recognized as New York.
Ball pushed himself back from the desk, and said, “There’s a disk in the drive marked ‘Ikeda’. We’ll be returning to depth in about an hour; use the time to browse what you want. The disk can’t leave the ship, but you can go with whatever information you can keep in your head.”
Ikeda was astonished. “Your Captain did this for me? Why didn’t she say anything?”
“I wanted to see how sneaky you are, and where your loyalties lie. She owes me five bucks.”
A feeling of shame crept over the Japanese, but the American offered his hand to shake. “I would have done the same, Major. Even though America is pretty much gone, I’m a US Navy sailor first, and a CEF sailor second. The Captain has her politics she has to play, but I don’t, and after we win, well, I expect the US and Japan will be allies again.”
Ball’s grip was crushing, and Ikeda returned it, then bowed, as well as he could in the small cabin. When the sailor had closed the door behind him, Ikeda sat back down at the computer. He studiously ignored every other icon, and clicked on the E: drive. A folder appeared, and he started scrolling, noting things he wanted to go back to.
CETACEAN NATION TREATY WITH CONSOLIDATED EARTH FORCES
That looked very interesting; the whales had their own nation now? That would explain many things that he had seen, though he was sure that they held little love for Japan.
STRUCTURE OF THE INVY EMPIRE
He knew that before the invasion, the United States National Security Agency had cracked the database on the crashed Invy Scout ship, but very little had flowed down to his level. Useless knowledge for him on a tactical level, but still a good thing to know.
Eleven worlds, seventeen slave races. Wormhole technology with sublight ships. A Feudal system, with the Dragons acting as the rulers.
CEF ACTION REVIEW, FLEET ACTION, LUNA
His eyes narrowed when he saw that one. Although Project Brightstar had been classified, he had heard through the rumor mill what had happened, how General Warren had failed to commit the final wing of the fleet, and that was why they Invy had won. It would be interesting to see what the J-3 had come up with in their analysis.
STRUCTURE OF FORCES, OPERATION MORIA
That one he knew about, the plan to disperse ground forces in case of defeat of the Fleet. He had been in on the mad rush to execute in the twenty-four hours after the loss of the ships. Operation Moria had been put in place secretly, while the Earth was building the Fleet; politicians would have screamed bloody murder at the cost of the underground bases if they had any idea about it.
OPERATION RED DAWN
He would save that for last; he was sure that Captain Larken would give him a complete brief to memorize before he was picked up. Still, it would be good to see the overall plan.
RECOVERY AND RESTORATION OPERATIONS, POST VICTORY
He smiled at that. The Americans, with their boundless optimism. He did miss the twenty-first century high tech Japan, but in many ways, the return to a more pastoral countryside was not a bad thing. Then he thought of Riko, and his bitter hatred of their occupiers welled up. He clicked the first file, and started reading.
January 1st, Cetacean Year 7328
Translated by Doctor Erita Peters
To The Confederated Earth Forces, From Cetacea
Know you, that We are (unintelligible) and in the way of the sea, We understand the Cycle. Large feeds on small, and small on large, and the (unintelligible) continues. God/s (?) have placed us all intelligence (?) on Earth as brothers (?) and we forgive you as brothers (?). The Invaders have taught the lesson and yet have not gone. They have given We the understanding of human speech and We (unintelligible) them leave, and they have not gone.
Cetacean offers knowledge and skill (?) in return for peace with Humanity. It is our future, The Invaders offer not self-determination (?).
Ikeda smiled a bitter smile. Apparently, the whales were better men than Mankind themselves. Would we have forgiven the slaughter of so many humans? He doubted it.
He continued reading, engrossed in the treaty, and didn’t notice time passing. He was startled when a knock sounded, and Captain Larken herself strode in. The knock had given him time to close the laptop, his head swirling with information. She said nothing about the disk, merely strode over to a cabinet and removed a flat metal case, handing it to him.
“Details for Red Dawn are in there. Your higher knows the combination,” she said, pointing to a dial on the flat surface. “If anyone tries to open it, the flash paper inside will burn, and a half pound of C4 will blow in their faces. I suggest you don’t try it.”
“Domo, Captain-sama,” he answered. “Thank you for your hospitality. Is it time to go?”
“Yes, we rendezvous in thirty minutes with your fishing vessel. The dolphins have already contacted them.”
He bowed politely, and then offered a salute. She returned it, with a twinkle in her eye, and grinned. “We’re going to win, Takara. We’re probably going to die, but our children will live free.”
“Not our children,” he answered, looking past her to the black framed photo on her desk.
“No,” she answered, the grin gone. “Not our children.”
Major Ikeda raised his hands, palms together, and bowed deeply, sharing in her grief. Then he turned and walked out, and let a sailor guide him to the airlock.
The water was as cold as he remembered, but this time he had a full air mask and flippers on, and, accompanied by another diver, they made their way up under the shadow of the small fishing boat. The torpedo shapes of several dolphins cavorted around them, diving under and blowing out huge bubbles of air, making the humans twist and turn to avoid them.
The lone fisherman, who was actually a member of Ikeda’s Scout team, pulled him aboard. The Major handed the mask and flippers to the diver, and then asked her, “Do you speak the dolphins’ language?”
“Enough to get by,” she answered. “Some of the tonals are hard to make, especially under water.”
“Can you translate something for me?” he asked, and she said yes. When one of the dolphins lifted his head out of the water to look at them sideways, Ikeda started speaking slowly so the diver could translate.
“Honorable member of the Cetacean Nation, I would pass a message from my leader, Empress Kiyomi Ichijou. We beg your forgiveness for our past wrongs and will be your faithful allies in all endeavors.”
The woman looked at him in the darkness, and said, “You gotta be shitting me, but I’ll try.” She followed with a series of whistles and clicks, interspersed with several English words. The dolphin answered back with one long, complicated whistle, then slipped beneath the surface, and the diver laughed.
