Retreat and Adapt

by Thomas DePrima

  "What do you mean that they might have removed our vocal chords? I heard everything you just said."

  "I didn't say anything. I just thought it. Try it."

  "Okay, here's me trying to talk without talking. Can you hear me?"

  "Every word. This is weird. Your lips didn't move."

  "Holy God. What have they done to us, Corporal?"

  "They must have done something to our brains so we can communicate telepathically."

  "You mean like supernatural, alien stuff?"

  "There doesn't seem to be anything supernatural about it. We've been watching them since they captured us and I've never heard them say anything. So they must use telepathy."

  "Why didn't I feel any pain when they chopped me up? Do they care if we're in pain?"

  "It's more likely they want to reduce the trauma to the body."

  "Why are they doing this? Do you think they're trying to turn us into one of them? Are they going to put us inside one of those cyborg bodies?"

  "Maybe parts of us."

  "Parts of us?"

  "They've already removed our arms and legs. They might be dismantling us to determine what they need to include in new bodies. Or…"

  "Or what."

  "They might be preparing us to act as baby-making machines."

  "Baby making?"

  "Yeah, we wouldn't need arms or legs to procreate. We just need a male and female."

  "Not even," Kilburn said.

  "No?"

  "All they'd have to do is harvest your eggs and pump me for my sperm."

  "Human babies are reportedly much healthier when they get breast milk for the first year after birth. The mother passes on a lot of antibodies. And males can continue to produce spermatozoa until old age."

  "So they need us alive, even if we can't move around?"

  "It's possible. And not being able to move on our own would make us easier to control."

  "I don't want to live like that. Just being part of a baby factory partnership is no way to live."

  "That's the way it was for all women until the twentieth century. Many women died in childbirth or before reaching forty-five."

  "Long before our time, Corporal. But we males didn't have it so good either. Back then you were lucky to reach thirty-five."

  "Whatever. Anyway, like this, without arms and legs, there's nothing we can do to fight back. We can't even end our own lives."

  "We're screwed, Corporal."

  "Royally."

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  ~ October 11th, 2287 ~

  "Come in, Trader," Commander Ginsburg said as the doors of his office opened.

  "Good morning, sir," Vyx said. "I got your message."

  "I have something to show you. Take a seat."

  When Vyx was settled into one of the reasonably comfortable chairs covered in imitation leather, Ginsburg tapped a button on his computer keyboard. The large monitor mounted on a side bulkhead illuminated with an image that had been recorded overnight.

  "Here's what set our warning system off initially," Ginsburg said as a freighter with a ten-kilometer load came into view and was passed in the blink of an eye. "I'll stop the vid so you can see what we passed next." As Ginsburg pressed a button, the image stabilized on a view of ship docks that extended far into the distance.

  Vyx whistled. "Wow. How many docks do you think are out here?"

  "We counted five hundred ten open docks and three hundred fifteen enclosed docks. Most of the open docks have warship hulls already laid. As you can see, there are dock workers everywhere. Either this is the busiest hour of the day, or they are pushing hard to get these ships built. We've identified three older warships guarding the place, all of Uthlaro design."

  "Eight hundred twenty-five docks," Vyx repeated. "Now we know what the leaders on Uthlarigasset have been up to. You're sure the hulls are for warships?"

  "They're too big to be single-hull freighters and too small to be passenger liners. Their shape agrees with that of the Uthlaro destroyers we fought in the last war, so we're pretty sure they're warship hulls. It looks like they're trying to rebuild their entire military fleet in two years." Ginsburg looked over at Vyx. "This doesn't really catch you by surprise, does it, Trader? You're the one responsible for us finding this shipyard. Did you know what they were up to out here?"

  "We suspected they were doing something out here that they wanted to hide, but this is quite a bit more than I was expecting."

  "What do you want us to do now?"

  "Did they see us when we passed the yard?"

  "Possibly. We weren't anticipating it and passed it by at only about five kilometers. But we were at Light-9790, and we only made the one pass. It's possible they saw something on their DeTect screens but didn't know what it was, so they chalked it up as just a temporary anomaly. They wouldn't have had more than a second's notice before we were past the base, and in another second we were long gone. Aboard an SC ship, the tac officer wouldn't even have time to sound GQ before we were just a distant memory. Even so, our sensors automatically activate the cameras, so we got some great high-res images."

  "Now that we have the proof of what they're doing, let's head back to Region Two," Vyx said. "I'll prepare a message for SCI on Quesann. I doubt they'll want us to hang around out here. My ship is armed, as is yours, but neither of them is a warship, so we're not in a position to take any offensive action with the three destroyers protecting their yard."

  "Okay, I'll have the helmsman turn us around."

  "Yeah, and uh— I'm sure I don't have to tell you that we should cut a wide track on the way back."

  "I already figured that much, Trader."

  "Yeah. Sorry."

  * * *

  "So that's the story," Vyx said as he finished briefing his team.

  "A new warship fleet?" Nelligen said. "They're going to come at us again? They didn't get enough pain last time around?"

  Vyx just shrugged. "People who occupy powerful political positions are usually there because they are consumed— first with attaining power and second with holding onto that power. If they lose it, once they've had a taste of it, a void opens up in their lives that's just not tolerable, and they will do anything to get the power back. The Uthlaro gambled everything in order to double the size of their territory, and they lost not just the new territory they'd hoped to add but their existing empire as well. Admiral Carver should have reduced their world to ruins as she did with the Milori. It would have given the Uthlaro something to occupy their energies while they came to grips with the fact that they had lost. Instead, they were able to immediately begin working on a plan to take back their empire."

  "So what do you think Admiral Carver will do now?" Brenda asked.

  "I know what I'd do, but I can never predict what Admiral Carver would do. She always seems to have the perfect solution."

  "What would you do?" Byers asked.

  "I'd assemble a taskforce to reduce those shipdocks and partially completed ships to scrap like she did to the yards at Milor and again at the three shipyards where the Uthlaro were building ships in Region Three."

  "Even though they're in open, unclaimed space?"

  "The Uthlaro, whether they want to admit it or not, are now citizens of the Galactic Alliance. The planet doesn't have to participate as a member world in trade, but everything they do in space above the sensible atmosphere of their world is governed by GA law. By most definitions, building a warship fleet to fight Space Command and take back their territory is sedition. Sedition has always been defined under the law as 'an illegal action inciting resistance to lawful authority and tending to cause the disruption or overthrow of the government.' It doesn't matter if the illegal action is a direct attack on soldiers on a military base or planting a couple of bombs at a sporting event. If the goal is to disrupt the government, it's sedition. Just the very act of building those ships is enough to warrant the death penalty. That the ships are located in open space makes the
decision to destroy them easier because there're no other nations involved. We can go in there and clean house, and then we should go to Uthlarigasset and finally clean house."

  "I don't think she could spare the ships right now," Kathleen said. "She has to keep her fleet ready to fight the Denubbewa."

  "The yards out here aren't going anywhere," Vyx said, "and they probably don't have any ships even remotely close to being ready to launch. After the Admiral takes care of the new threat, she can send a task force out here and destroy the yards. And I hope she sends them to Uthlarigasset afterwards to teach them a lesson they won’t forget this time."

  * * *

  "Welcome back, Marc," Commander Cody Morrow aboard the Mekong said to Commander Marc Hodenfield aboard the Rio Grande when the scout-destroyer arrived at its established jump-off point for the flybys of the two mother ships. It was First Watch and both officers were in their offices off the bridge.

  "Thanks, Cody. Everything quiet?"

  "Yeah, so far. It's anybody's guess what's going to happen when that third mother ship gets here. Are they going to stand down for a while or immediately begin an offensive? Are they going to proceed together or head off for different objectives?"

  "Good questions all."

  "Yeah. Well, at least we won't be out here alone."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I received a message a little while ago that the DS destroyer Duluth and scout-destroyers Yukon, Gambia, and Nile are proceeding here with all haste."

  "Is something up?"

  "Nothing I've been informed about. I suppose they just want a greater presence in the area in case more of those mother ships show up. If they deploy, we'll need at least one ship tailing each of them."

  "Yeah. At some point somebody's going to start shooting. I expected the Admiral to come up with a plan by now."

  "Maybe she has, and it's just taking time to move assets into place or something. I'm sure she hasn't forgotten about these mother ships. Or us."

  "Yeah. I guess I'm just tired of this 'watching from afar' duty."

  "I suspect that when things start to happen, the action will come fast and furious."

  * * *

  "That's everything we needed to discuss today, Admiral," Lt. Commander Ashraf said. "Your schedule is pretty full for this afternoon, but you can relax and work on other things until 1330 hours."

  "Thank you, Lori. As always I appreciate your dedication and hard work." Standing up, Jenetta said loudly, "The room shall come to attention."

  Lt. Commander Ashraf was the only other one in the room, and she was taken completely unawares, but she stood up and came to attention.

  "Lieutenant Commander Lori Elaine Ashraf, by special order from Region Two Space Command Headquarters, you are immediately advanced to the rank of Commander." Coming out from behind her desk, Jenetta took an insignia from a small box and replaced the rank insignia on Commander Ashraf's right shoulder, then took a step backward and saluted Space Command's newest O-5 officer as she said, "Congratulations, Commander."

  Commander Ashraf returned the salute, then relaxed as Jenetta dropped her hand.

  "Thank you, Admiral. This is a bit unexpected."

  "Your name appears on the new Promotions Board List for Commander, so I temporarily bypassed a little of the red tape because I wanted to surprise you. The paperwork is all filled out in my computer and stored in a private file. I'll send that to you so you can forward it to the proper departments for recording the promotion."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Oh, here's the insignia for your other shoulder," Jenetta said, holding out a small box.

  "Thank you, Admiral."

  "That's all, Lori."

  Jenetta moved the paperwork to Commander Ashraf's queue and then walked to her window to stare out at the blue sky. The day was gorgeous and perfect for an hour of flight time, but she had a lot on her mind and couldn't afford the time even though she had nothing scheduled for hours.

  Jenetta was still at the window ten minutes later when Cmdr. Ashraf comm'd her with a message that Admiral Kanes was asking to see her.

  "Send him in, Lori," Jenetta said as she returned to her desk.

  "Good morning, Jen," Kanes said as he entered. "Hope I'm not disturbing you."

  "I've always got time for you, Keith. What's up?"

  "We received a message overnight from one of our teams in Region Three. I believe you know them. It's Trader Vyx and four other agents."

  "Yes, I know Vyx and the others very well. They've done great work for Space Command and the GA."

  "They do have a unique working relationship. We run most of our people as single agents because they prefer it that way, but this group has worked together for some time and delivered so well as a group that we've kept them together."

  "So what was in the message?"

  "A few weeks ago, Vyx requested that his ship be picked up by a DS ship. He had been following an Uthlaro freighter capable of Light-450 but wanted to speed ahead to find out where it was headed. He suspected the ship was headed out of Region Three space and needed Light-9790 speed to avoid spending four or five years round trip travel time. His team believed the Uthlaro were engaged in illegal activities outside of GA space where patrols don't travel. I arranged with Augustus to send a transport ship to rendezvous and take the Scorpion wherever Vyx wanted to go. In his latest message, he says the trip paid off. He claims that he's located a base outside GA space where the Uthlaro are building a fleet of warships. The base is about a hundred parsecs beyond the Region Three border. He's sent the coordinates. "

  "How large a base?'

  "Here's a vid created by the transporter ship during a flyby," Kanes said as he extended a data ring.

  Jenetta placed the ring over the spindle on her keyboard and activated the large wall monitor. When she selected the file marked 'shipyard,' the vid began to play. She paused the vid several times to see still images.

  "That's quite a shipyard," Jenetta said as the vid ended. "It reminds me of the shipyard Maxxiloth had built near Milor."

  "Vyx says the shipyard appears to contain eight hundred twenty-five docks. We've viewed the vid and confirm that count."

  Jenetta took a deep breath and then released it slowly. "Eight hundred twenty-five docks. I've suspected the Uthlaro were in league with the Denubbewa, but this news almost makes that seem impossible."

  "Why? It could be a pact to arrogate the two regions, like the THUG pact. The Uthlaro get their territory back and the Denubbewa get to keep Region Two."

  "No, the Uthlaro wouldn't share the territory, and the Denubbewa seem too strong for the Uthlaro to overcome. I could see a working relationship between the two, but not a deal to take over the territory and then split it. With the Tsgardi, Hudeerac, and Gondusans, there's little doubt that the Uthlaro intended to defeat them after we were driven out. The Uthlaro would then have absorbed all of the territory. In this case, I think it would be the Denubbewa absorbing the entire territory."

  "So what do we do now?" Kanes asked. "Head out there and destroy their docks and then teach the Uthlaro politicians on Uthlarigasset a lesson they won't soon forget?"

  "It's tempting, but not yet. The ships in the open dock aren't much more than keels, and I doubt there's anything in the enclosed docks because they haven't had time to make much progress. Even if they'd started working on this plan within hours of learning their armada had been defeated, they haven't had time to complete any ships. First they had to organize their materials shipments and workers and get everything to the site. They don't have Light-9790, so the travel time alone is about two years from Uthlarigasset at Light-450. Having converted the FTL drives on their freighters to military grade is the only reason they're not still trying to reach their planned shipbuilding location. They believe they've placed their base beyond our reach, but they've only made it easier for us take it out anytime we want. I don't wish to commit our resources to minor annoyances until after we deal with the Denubbewa. But we'll t
ake care of this problem at the appropriate time. I take it our people are safe?"

  "Yes, they're aboard the Edison. It performed the flyby at Light-9790 and then left the area so they never exposed themselves to attack."

  "Good."

  "What's happening with Project Gazebo?"

  "We're still stuck in limbo. Captain DeWitt and her people are working day and night, but they haven't been able to expand our DeTect capability beyond that of the original development team. They're weapons scientists and technicians, and I've asked them to take on a task for which they're not really suited. What we probably need is a roomful of theoretical physicists, but I don't have anyone with that special knowledge and expertise."

  "That's probably the one advantage in having SHQ move here. They'll bring all their research laboratories, physicists, and scientists with them."

  "I'm not sure it's worth the price of having all those newsies, politicians, and political hacks all over the place."

  "There must be another way to determine the optimal point for the drop."

  "We have the finest minds in weapons research here and no one's come up with another idea. It's a little difficult to get past the problem of traveling almost three billion kilometers per second."

  "How about this— if we make our presence known to the vessel we're about to attack, they'll probably start communicating with other vessels. Can we target the ship by homing in on their radio signals? The IDS Communications Band signals travel at 8.09 billion kilometers per second. That's almost three times faster than Light-9790."

  Jenetta looked at Kanes for several seconds without speaking, then stood up and walked to her beverage dispenser to prepare a mug of fresh coffee. She turned as the coffee was pouring into the cup and looked at Kanes. "Coffee, Keith?"

  "I could go for a cup."

  When Jenetta returned from the dispenser, she placed Kanes' coffee in front of him and then returned to her chair behind the desk. She sipped at the hot coffee as she thought. Finally, she said, "That's an interesting idea. I can think of only one potential problem. The ship being targeted might not be transmitting or might cease transmitting at a critical juncture. How can we guarantee that they continue transmitting?"