"Good morning, sir," the Tagus XO said to Commander Osborne a week later when he reported for the daily briefing.
"Good morning, Jerry. I just received new orders. We're to take the missile we recovered to Quesann ASAP."
"Then they're calling off the search effort?"
"No, the search will continue for weapons that might have gone ballistic and not exploded after failing to hit a target. We're the only ship pulled out of the search effort. HQ wants this thing fast. Since we found it, we get to ferry it back."
"Well, I can't say I'll be sorry to see Quesann's pristine sandy beaches again. I wonder if they've cleared the sea for swimming yet."
"I don't know. And I don't know if we'll have time for R&R. We'll probably deliver the missile and then be sent right back out again."
"Without even a liberty weekend?"
"We'll have to see. With enemy ships destroying ours without even a fight, I don't imagine much shore leave is being approved these days."
* * *
"Let me see if I understand this," Director Wpleshoi said to Commander Blithallo, the senior officer at the Approach and Departure Center, "You want this Board of Directors to authorize moving the city because a single console in the Center is intermittently displaying a single dot for only an instant a few times during each shift, then is fine again."
"Yes, ma'am. The equipment has been tested and retested and we can find nothing wrong with it, which would indicate that the contact is very real."
"And you feel that this intermittent problem represents a threat to the city?" Another Board member asked.
"Uh— not necessarily a threat, sir. It's more of a mystery that must be solved if we're to continue to have trust in our equipment and know that it is reporting the situation correctly. There might be a danger that we're unaware of."
"Our generals have reported that the most powerful military in this part of space poses no threat to us. In two confrontations, we've destroyed their ships easily. In successive encounters, they've run away before we've had a chance to engage them. We've reported our success to the Denubbew Dominancy High Council and expect to hear soon about plans to assimilate this part of space. When other cities join us here, we expect to move through this part of space, destroying all sentient beings and terraforming the surfaces for colonization of our species on every viable planet. Why should we care that a single piece of electronic equipment is malfunctioning?"
"That's just it, Director. Repeated testing of the equipment has proven beyond any doubt that the equipment is not malfunctioning. I believe there's something out there and that we need to know what it is so we're prepared to handle it when the time comes."
"I'll approve sending out a ship to investigate."
"I've already done that."
"How? You don’t have the authority to dispatch a ship."
"True, but I do have the authority to reroute returning and outbound ships, advising them to be on the lookout for unidentified objects as they pass a certain point."
"Very clever, Commander. And has anyone reported seeing anything suspicious at the specified coordinates?"
"Uh— no, ma'am."
"And yet you still want to move the city to that area."
"Yes, ma'am."
"We'll take it under advisement. Dismissed, Commander."
"Yes, ma'am."
As the door to the chamber closed behind the departing Commander, the head director said to the others, "Any thoughts? Should we give any credence to this reported console reading that can't be substantiated by visual sightings from spaceships?"
"If there was something out there," one of the board members said, "one of the rerouted ships would have seen it. It has to be a malfunction in the console despite what the technicians have said."
"I agree," said another. "The DeTect system was a valuable addition to our defenses, and it has proven itself reliable in the past, but it simply might be seeing something just large enough to record a hit, such as a micrometeorite, but not large enough to register visually. In any event, something that tiny can't represent a threat to this city."
"Let's take a vote," the head director said. "All in favor of moving the city, signify now. All in favor of not moving the city, signify now. The vote is unanimous. We stay where we are. Is there any new business to discuss?"
* * *
"Where are we?" Marine corporal Beth Rondara said to the PFC who was on his knees, bent over her as she lay on a deck without benefit of blankets, mattress pads, or even oh-gee shielding. Some light slaps to her face had awakened her.
"I think we're in an enemy ship," PFC Vincent Kilburn said, straightening up. "This appears to be some kind of laboratory."
Rondara struggled to sit up, her mind still slightly clouded from stasis sleep. The room was completely empty. "What makes you think that?"
"It's not a brig, and you can see all sorts of equipment through that window over there," Kilburn said, pointing to a window at one end of the small room.
Rondara looked down, only then realizing she was naked, as was Kilburn. She recalled stripping down and slipping into a standard, formfitting stasis suit before climbing into a chamber in a lifepod aboard the Salado. But the deck here wasn't cold, so clothing wasn't a necessity, and modesty was one of the last things they needed to be concerned about right then.
Kilburn stood up and extended a hand towards Rondara. She took it and he helped her stand, then held her arm until she was steady on her feet. It was a couple of minutes before the room and her brain were in complete sync. As she let go of Kilburn's arm, she walked to the only window. She could see a room full of equipment, the purpose of which was unclear, and two stasis beds in the background. The door to the room where they were being held had no mechanism for opening it from their side.
"Think they intend to do a little testing?" she asked Kilburn.
"Wouldn't we? I suppose all that matters is whether we'll survive intact."
"Yeah, but that's not all that matters. They're going to try to learn everything they can about SC and the Corps. And they may want to know how we're put together first."
"Put together? You mean…"
"Yeah," Rondara said. "Exactly. And even if they put us back together, the experience of being taken apart isn't something we should look forward to."
"So, we try and escape then?"
"And go where?"
"I don't know. Hey, maybe we can sabotage this ship."
"And kill ourselves and the others that were with us aboard the Salado?"
"I don't really think we're getting out of this intact, Corporal. They didn't hesitate to kill everyone aboard the Yenisei and the Salado."
"Never give up, Kilburn. We still have something they will never have."
"What's that?"
"Admiral Carver."
"No offense, Corporal, but the Admiral can't help us here. We don't even know where we are, so how can she?"
"I don't know, but she's been in tough scrapes and never given up hope, and neither will we."
A noise at the window drew their attention. Something was moving around in the lab.
"What the heck is that thing?" Kilburn said.
"Looks kinda like a robot— or maybe a cyborg."
"Cyborg? You mean like half human?"
"Well, a creature whose body has been replaced in part by electromechanical devices to improve functionality, such as mobility, strength, or dexterity. It may not even be animal-based life. It might be aquatic or plantlike in its natural form. Look at that small window in its chest. That looks like it's filled with a clear fluid."
"Yeah, but how does that indicate it's not animal based?"
"It doesn't— not completely. But of all the sentient beings we've encountered in GA space, all evolved from animal life, and none live in fluid."
"It looks sort of like a human skeleton. Why does it look so much like us?"
"Well, it might be a coincidence, but…"
"But what?"
&
nbsp; "It's basically a machine. They might have constructed it to appear like us on purpose."
"Why?"
"Maybe they expect that we'll adapt better to a form we know."
"It's a machine. They can't expect us to cozy up to that."
"I didn't mean it like that. I meant they might want to turn us into cyborgs, and perhaps think our coordination will be better if the body shape conforms to what we were born with."
"What? Are you kidding?"
"No. They might put the brains of captives into those kinds of bodies and make them work as slaves. In fact, that might be one of our fellow Marines or an SC engineer. For all we know, we're the last to be awakened."
"No way. If that was one of our guys, he'd be freeing us right now."
"The aliens would probably wipe the mind of a captive when they put it into a new body. I agree that if it was still one of us, it would be freeing us. So whatever or whoever it might have been, it's one of them now."
"Oh, yeah? Well if it's one of them, I wonder how well its head would hold up to a home run hit with a meter-long piece of steel pipe?"
"We may never know. They didn't leave us anything in here that we could use as a weapon. In fact they didn't leave us anything. I wish they'd at least left us our stasis suits."
"If we ever get out of here, I'm going to find out if I can knock it over the outfield fence."
"No attacks until I give the order. Understood, PFC?"
Kilburn sighed lightly. "Aye, Corporal."
"Now let's concentrate on memorizing the position of everything in the laboratory so we can find our way around in pitch black."
"Do you have a plan?"
"Not yet. I just want to be prepared if an opportunity presents itself."
"Do you think that thing breathes air?"
"I would say that it probably doesn't breathe. That fluid in its chest might be some sort of fuel. But still, the stasis beds are out there, and we're in here. They never would have gotten them through the narrow door into this room, so we must have been removed in the lab and carried in here. That might mean there's oxygen out there."
"But what if the oxygen ends at the door from that room?"
"A very good question, PFC. And one that I don't have an answer to."
* * *
Vertap Aloyandro of the Hudeerac Order leaned in towards the monitor's retinal images recording sensors so the encrypted message would play. When the system was satisfied with his identity, the scrambled image on the monitor immediately resolved itself into a clear image of Admiral Jenetta Carver. After a few seconds, the message began to play.
"Hello Minister. As part of our continuing commitment to share intelligence information with our peaceful galactic partners, I offer this data. The logs of the two Space Command ships attacked and destroyed by an unknown enemy yielded only fuzzy images. At first, it appeared that the ships resembled a handful of foam bubbles. We later learned that the bubbles were shields to protect missile platforms mounted on the ships. The segmented covers are retracted to expose the platform and allow the ship to fire thousands of small missiles— all at once, if desired.
"As we conducted a recovery operation of one ship, the attackers returned. During their attack run, one of our ships involved in the recovery operation was able to get high-resolution images of the attacking ships from several angles. I'm including all images with this transmission.
"We haven't yet been able to verify the identity of the attackers, so we continue to use the information you provided and refer to them as the Denubbewa.
"When we have additional information regarding this new enemy, I shall forward it to you. If you should learn anything new, especially regarding their weaknesses, I hope you will forward it with all haste.
"Jenetta Carver, Admiral, Region Two HQ at Quesann, message complete, attachments."
Vertap leaned back in his seat and looked at the frozen image of Admiral Carver on his monitor. He didn't like to repeat unconfirmed information, especially when the information came from a distant source with no real allegiance to the Hudeerac Order. Paid informants were notoriously unreliable, especially when the information was alleged to have been overhead in a bar. But the situation seemed so dangerous that every shred of information must be considered.
Vertap leaned back in towards the scanner, engaged the device to record his retinal information, then began to record a new message.
"To Jenetta Carver, Admiral, Space Command Region Two Headquarters on Quesann, begin message."
"Good day, Admiral. I hesitate to pass on information which may have no foundation in truth and ask that you treat it with all due skepticism. A paid informant in the territory controlled by the Denubbew Dominancy has recently reported that the Denubbewa sent a mother ship in our direction to investigate possible territorial expansion. Our territory is small, so the ship might have continued right past us and into GA space. All reports suggest that their mother ships are far beyond anything that one might think of when hearing the word 'ship.' In a new communication received just one solar ago, the informant states that the mother ship reported an easy time with local forces and asked that a full contingent of mother ships join them to help establish control over their new territory. As yet, we have no information regarding a deployment of mother ships. I shall certainly inform you if and when I have more information.
"Vertap Aloyandro, Director of Intelligence for the Hudeerac Order, from the Royal Palace on Hudeera, end of message."
Aloyandro wondered how Admiral Carver would treat the information. Were he in her place, no scrap of intelligence, regardless of its credibility, would be ignored until disproven.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
~ April 14th, 2287 ~
"The two ships assigned to track the Denubbewa mother ship continue to perform their flybys at the maximum DeTect range each day," Jenetta said to the R2HQ Board at the regularly scheduled meeting. "So far, the mother ship has remained stationary, although the number of smaller ships outside the mother ship changes frequently. We believe the ships are kept on patrol at distances far enough from the mother ship to give adequate time to prepare should Space Command commence an attack. That would mean they perform like the Distant DeTect Grids we establish at all our bases."
"Can they DeTect the scout-destroyers performing the monitoring activities?" Admiral Buckner asked.
"If a vessel passes within four billion kilometers, they will see a reflection on their screens," Admiral Holt said, "but unless they know what's causing it, they will probably dismiss it as a momentary anomaly. Since the scout-destroyers are encapsulated in a transverse-wave envelope during their flybys, the DeTect image is more like a momentary shadow than the solid image you'd see with vessels traveling at slower FTL or sub-light speeds."
"If they move, our ships will follow them wherever they go," Jenetta said. "We'll always know where they are when we're ready to take them on."
"I like your confidence, Jen," Admiral Poole said. "So far, they've been the ones doing the ass-kicking."
"They caught us cold, twice, with their still undeclared war. But we've been able to learn a little about them, and we do have at least one major advantage."
"Major advantage?" Admiral Buckner said.
"Our Light-9790 speed. As far as we know, their top speed is about Light-450."
"We can't know that's their top speed. All we know is that they haven't been observed exceeding that speed."
"True, but our Intelligence people have been examining the high-resolution images of their ships and are confident that the ships are not sheathed with Dakinium. So unless they've discovered another way to create a double envelope, Light-450 may be their top speed. Scientists still insist that the theoretical absolute limit for single envelope travel is Light-862, so if they haven't mastered Transverse Wave travel, our ships are at least eleven times faster and most likely about twenty-one times faster."
"Have our Intelligence people discovered any new info
rmation about the invaders?" Admiral Buckner asked, looking towards Admiral Kanes.
"Admiral Carver provided some new information just this morning," Kanes said. "She has a direct contact that has been providing her with solid intelligence data for years. The AB knows the identity of the source, as do I, and we fully support the sharing of information vital to the protection of both nations. According to the source, the Denubbewa mother ship in our space has reported that the Galactic Alliance territory is ripe for takeover. It's requested that a full contingent of mother ships join them here to assist in completing the takeover of our space."
The R2HQ Board Hall fell into complete silence as everyone's thoughts turned to further possible invasion by alien forces.
"How long do we have to prepare?" Admiral Holt asked.
"Unknown," Kanes said. "We don’t know if the Denubbew Dominancy has dispatched the requested ships or if they intend to do so in the near future. We don't know how far they would have to travel or how long that journey would take. We don't even know how many ships are considered a contingent. Is it five ships or five hundred? We have no idea how large their population is, but since they appear to have expansionist intentions, it would be prudent to assume that they will come at some point. However, without further intelligence information, we have no idea when that might be."
"Good God," Admiral Buckner said. "If they come with five hundred of those mother ships, there's no way we can stop them."
"Our best bet would be to destroy the mother ship already in our space as soon as possible," Jenetta said. "That will send a powerful message because they've essentially said we're powerless to stop their takeover. When their leaders back home learn of the destruction, or at least when they fail to get any response to their messages, they might rethink their position."
"Have we made any progress on your plan?" Admiral Poole asked.
"Since this meeting isn't as private as it would have to be to discuss details, all I can say is that things are progressing. Certain components are scheduled to leave production facilities in Region One any day now. In two months' time, we should be able to begin assembly of test components. Once the test components are constructed, we'll be ready to test the delivery system. I can't say how long that phase will take, but given the task, it could be considerable."
Retreat and Adapt Page 18
