by Dale Musser
“Ah, yes. I have a meeting scheduled with him. I didn’t realize the time. Tell him I’ll be with him in a moment,” he replied. Then turned to me, “You’ll have to excuse me for cutting this meeting short, Admiral, though I think we covered all the main issues. Thank you for coming. Keep me updated on what’s happening, so I can keep the Senate informed and off your back.”
It was nearly midday when I left Pheosa’s office. I was hungry and really wanted to see Kala, even if only for a few minutes. I called her to see if we might meet for lunch, only to find out she was on Earth and had just dined with Cantolla and Truath. She asked if I’d be available for dinner that evening and I replied that I would make my best effort to be there, but I couldn’t make any guarantees and that it might a need to be a late dinner, as I had no idea how long my meeting with the Admiralty would go. She replied that she would wait to dine with me, if it didn’t get too late. At the same time, I looked forward to having dinner with her and I was disappointed that I had to wait so long to see her. I don’t know why, but for some reason I ached for her company at that moment and just wanted to be with her.
I needed a momentary diversion in a relaxed atmosphere to get my thoughts together… and I needed to eat. When I got back to the War Room on the GLOMAR ROSA I asked Marranalis, “Have you eaten?”
“No, sir. I was just going to have Pieamar bring me something,” he replied.
“Well, get someone to take over for you. You and I are going to lunch somewhere. Say, does The Locker on the NEW ORLEANS serve any food?” I asked.
“Yes, but it’s not much, more like snack foods. They do have some outrageous seasoned nardar strips served with rastec sauce.”
“Perfect. Right now a cold afex and some nardar strips sounds about right to me. That is, if it’s alright with you.”
Marranalis looked at me with a sly grin. “Sounds perfect, sir. Oh, by the way, your meeting with the Admiralty is in two hours.”
“Excellent, that will give us plenty of time.”
The Locker was a small pub/bar the crew of the NEW ORLEANS had created for themselves in one of the unused storage lockers on the ship. It was simple in appearance and more or less thrown together using bits and pieces of shipping crates and other materials scrounged from various sources about the ship. The walls were covered with signatures and inscriptions of crew members, including many who had died in battle. The place was never packed, nor was it ever empty, as there was always one or two people either drowning their sorrows at the bar after a duty shift or a couple romantically staring into each other’s eyes in a corner somewhere.
Marranalis found us a pair of seat-sized crates arranged along a wall with a larger crate that served as a table. All ordering needed to be done at the bar, as there were no waitresses or waiters. Food was prepared by a synthesizer, so no cook was needed, and with the exception of a bartender, there was no staff.
Once we’d gotten our afex and nardar strips, Marranalis asked me, “Tibby, is everything alright? You look tired and stressed. Usually this soon after your treatments you’re more energetic and upbeat. You look like you’re going into at treatment, not like you just had one a day ago.”
There were certain times and places where Marranalis and I dropped the formalities of rank and we were just friends and addressed each other as such. The Locker was one of those places.
I sighed. “I guess it’s just plain stress, Marranalis. I can’t see any way we can win against the Brotherhood, unless we find Ming. That’s our only hope – to find him and take him out. We’ve been trying for years and we’re no closer now than we were ten years ago. In fact, we were probably nearer to getting him then.”
“I’m taking it things didn’t go well with Pheosa?”
“Actually, it went fine. At least he says we have the total backing of the Senate for a change, and I pretty much have the freedom to do what I feel is necessary. But damn it, Marranalis, I’m afraid it’s too late. If they had let us do what we needed eight or ten years ago, we probably would have destroyed Ming and the entire Brotherhood organization by now and all of this would be over. Instead, Ming has grown in power and he’s now so heavily protected and hidden that our chances of finding him before he does serious harm to the Federation are about nil.”
“I see. But there’s always hope that we’ll find Ming. At any time now the FSO could uncover the lead we need to get us on his trail.”
I laughed. “Yeah, sure.” I raised the afex to my lips and took a sip. The cold bitterness felt comforting and for a moment I wished I could sit there and drink myself into a stupor. My eyes wandered across the opposite wall and managed to rest right on Sokaia’s name. I quickly diverted my gaze, only to find them resting again on Stonbersa’s signature. I looked down at our makeshift table as I choked back the emotion. Two of the bravest people I had ever known. I suddenly found myself reflecting on all those who died since I came to the Federation, starting with Reidecor and Lunnie, right up to the billions who had died at Glomar Rosa.
“Tibby, are you alright?” asked Marranalis, snapping me out of my recollection and grief.
I wiped a tear from my eye. “Sorry,” I said as I pointed at the signatures with the hand that held the afex glass. “I was just remembering Sokaia, Stonbersa, Lunnie and Reidecor. I miss them.”
“I know. I miss them too.”
“If only I hadn’t found the TRITYTE back on Earth, none of this would have happened,” I said.
“You don’t know that, Tibby. Clearly, the Brotherhood was in place before you arrived and was poised to take over the Federation. No one can say how that might have played out without you.”
“True, but Ming wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for me. And at the moment he’s the biggest threat to the Federation. I doubt seriously that Roritat would have been as bad as Ming will be, if he takes over.”
“Again, you can’t know that. The fact is, you’re here and you’re doing a tremendous job fighting the Brotherhood and Ming. The Federation needs you.”
I’d been nibbling at the nardar strips that were served in a plastic bowl. Any other time I probably would have loved them. They had the same rich flavor of Earth shrimp sautéed in garlic butter, but my appetite was waning and the thoughts in my mind overrode the pleasure of their taste, making them seem bland and rubbery in my mouth.
“Marranalis, what am I to do? If Ming increases his strikes, which I think he will, there is nothing we can do effectively to stop him.”
“I don’t know, Tibby, but you’ll think of something. You always do.”
“I’ve been running on luck and luck doesn’t last forever. I think my luck has run out. There are no more rabbits left in the hat.”
“Rabbits? Hat? I don’t understand.” said Marranalis with a dumbfounded look.
“Oh, excuse me. I forgot. Rabbits were a small furry mammal on Old Earth, sort of like sabamonks on Berusius, and they breed at about the same rate, by the way. Earth performers would do tricks of illusion, where they would show you an empty hat and then reach inside and pull out a rabbit, giving you the impression that they produced it from nothing.”
“It sounds like an interesting trick,” replied Marranalis with far less enthusiasm than I had anticipated.
“The point is, I’m stumped and out of answers and miracles. I don’t know of anything we can do!” I said finally.
“There still hope that we’ll find Ming and put an end to him,” said Marranalis in a comforting tone.
“I guess so, as long as we are still free and fighting, there is hope.”
Marranalis’s com beeped.
“Marranalis here,” he responded.
“Sir, this is Corporal Neider. There’s a call coming in from a Senator Yungman from Nevel Ordax. He says he needs to talk to Admiral Tibby.”
Marranalis looked at me questioningly. Senator Yungman was the brother of one of the women we had rescued from Alamar-4 and he was sympathetic toward my military agenda. I nodded to Marranalis.
A moment later my com beeped.
“Tibby here,” I answered.
“Admiral, I’m sorry to disturb you on such short notice, but I have some information that may be useful to you… or rather, I should say my sister may have some information.”
“I’m always interested in any information that may help us,” I replied.
“As you may or may not know, my sister has been slowly regaining her faculties since her rescue, and during a particularly lucid moment while we were speaking last night, she mentioned that she recalled overhearing a conversation between the Brotherhood officer who was holding her as a slave and another officer who had stayed at the home briefly. One of them said they needed to go to the Copscian Nebula to see about picking up some asteroid-ships waiting to be delivered to Alamar-4. She said the way he talked about it at the time made her think the asteroid-ships were being constructed there.”
“Is there anything more she can tell us?” I asked.
“Maybe, but I can’t guarantee it. Her train of thought comes and goes and if she dwells too long on memories of her time in captivity, she sinks back into a depression-like state of shock for several days.”
“Would you mind if I had Admiral Wabussie send some FSO agents to interview her?”
“I don’t know, Admiral. I want to help you, but my sister has gone through so much. I would hate to see her have a setback at this time.”
“I understand,” I replied. “If I can guarantee that they will stop at the first sign of her becoming distressed, would you consent to them talking with her?”
“I… I don’t know… maybe. If I can be there and they agree that if I ask them to stop, they stop.”
“I think that can be arranged. Let me talk to Wabussie and get back to you, and thank you Senator, this may well be the information we need to make a lasting difference in the war.”
“See, Admiral,” Marranalis began once the call with Yungman was over. “Something always comes up to change the circumstances. I’ll bet this is the information we need to get Ming at last.”
“I hope you’re right, because I’m running out of ideas,” I said.
By now, it was nearly time for the meeting with the Admiralty. I took the last bite of my now cold nardar strips, thinking to myself that they were much better warm, and washed it down with the last bit of my afex. Across the table from me, Marranalis let out a belch.
“Excuse me, Admiral, he said in a more formal tone. “That caught me off guard.”
“Quite alright, Marranalis. It’s just the two of us. We can belch all we want,” I said as I let out a belch of my own. We both laughed for a moment and then I said, “I guess we’d best get going. It’s nearly time to start the meeting.”
Because the meeting was arranged via vid conferencing, I was able to sit in my office and view the attendees in a limited 3D holographic display. However, since my office wasn’t large enough to display a life-size scene, the images were reduced in scale by twenty-five percent. I found this quite amusing and it took me a moment to adjust to this comical scene. I had a difficult time keeping myself from grinning like a fool at all the homunculi seated about my office. To make it worse, I kept expecting high-pitched voices to come from their images and it seemed incongruous and even funnier to hear full-sized voices coming from the miniature bodies. I actually had to look past them at the opposite wall to clear my head and get down to the business at hand.
“Admirals, I began. “We have gathered to address a serious problem regarding security. I need all of you to audit and remedy any security weaknesses immediately as a priority matter, not only when it comes to the gate stations but at all Cantolla Gates, cargo transfers and security stations of all kinds. The attack on CGS-3 has shown us just how lax we have become in the execution of our protocols. Not only was it possible for the Brotherhood to find the location of the Cantolla Gate Station, but they managed to get a bomb aboard the station as well. We know that the bomb was inside a container that was transported through the cargo transfer. The fact that the bomb passed into the station undetected is bad enough on its own, but the real question is how the Brotherhood coordinated the bomb explosion with the external attack at the station. Normally, the complete transit time for a container or package is less than an hour from its origin to its destination. The actual duration that any given item stays within the Freight and Cargo Pod is only a few minutes. This means that the Brotherhood needed to know almost precisely when the package would be aboard CGS-3 to detonate it with a timer or they had someone aboard the station or aboard a nearby ship to detonate it remotely. To do that they almost assuredly needed help from someone familiar with the CGS operations.
“From what we now know, this kind of attack could be repeated on any of the CGSs or any place where freight is transferred or delivered. This includes any of our fleet ships. All of you take delivery of cargo and supplies on a regular basis and if the Brotherhood can get a package through screening on CGS-3, chances are they will be able to do it on a carrier, frigate or corvette, so retrain your crews from scratch if you have to. Just make sure your vigilance in respect to security does not falter again.
“Now, moving on,” I continued. “In the past, we had the comfort of knowing the Brotherhood did not possess or understand how the Cantolla Gate technology worked. We no longer have that luxury. We don’t know what weaknesses the Brotherhood will discover, now that they have access to gate technology, but recent events show us that they are learning fast and will exploit this new power in devastating ways.
“We need to make THIS our number one priority: Find the weaknesses in our gate technology security before the Brotherhood does and tighten up security in those areas already identified as vulnerable. I want each and every one of you to alert those who fall under your command at all levels to look at gate security, find the weaknesses and come up with solutions. Create a joint task force to coordinate and communicate between you. Nothing is to fall through the cracks.”
While I was talking, one of my aides approached and slipped a note in front of me. I glanced down at it and then looked up at the admirals in the holographic display. “I’ve just received word that there have just been a rash of body-bomber attacks on the planet Frandee at two cargo transfer locations. The Cantolla Gates there were destroyed by other explosions. Which of you admirals have ships closest to Frandee?” I asked, looking about the group.
“I have a carrier just a few hours from there,” responded one of the admirals.
“Get them there immediately, in case the Brotherhood is planning on attacking with more ships,” I replied. I couldn’t help shuddering, as I realized that the Federation wouldn’t be able to respond effectively to a large number of these attacks, if Ming were to coordinate a lot of them at the same time. I noticed motion at my side and turned to see my aide returning with another note. My anxieties began to materialize into reality as I took it from his hand and read the contents.
“Gentlemen,” I began in a somber tone as I glanced over the note. “The planet Agraious has also suffered body-bomber attacks. Reports also indicate that several Brotherhood ships entered the atmosphere there, where they dropped canisters that broke on impact with the planet, after which the ships departed. The contents of the containers are unknown at the moment. Retrieval crews are collecting them for examination. I fear we are facing multiple simultaneous attacks that require your immediate and direct attention. All sectors are raised to high alert at this time. Under the circumstances, this meeting is hereby adjourned.”
As the images on the 3D display vanished, I turned to Marranalis. “I’d like to see the attack locations in the holographic display. Also, pull up any data we have on Agraious and… what was the name of that other planet?”
“Frandee, sir.”
“Yeah, Frandee. What data do we have on these worlds?”
“Agraious is an outlying world with sparse pop
ulation and only a few small cities. Mostly agricultural and specialized ceramic electronic components manufactured for export. Frandee is about the same size but more densely populated. They have a diverse economy with no single dominant product or industry. A fairly diverse world in commercial terms.”
“Are they also an outlying world?” I asked.
“No sir, not at all. In fact, the next closest inhabited world to them is Plosaxen.”
“They’re in that close?!” I said in shock.
“Yes, sir.
“Any updated reports from there?” I asked.
“No, sir, just the initial reports of the body-bombers and the explosions at the Cantolla Gate cargo transfer area.”
“So it sounds like CGS-3 all over. They probably shipped the bombs disguised as common cargo and then detonated them on arrival. Do we have any idea as to where that cargo originated?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. Until the FSO can get in there and investigate, we have no idea.”
“What about those canisters dropped on Agraious?” I asked.
“The ground team is just reaching the first one. They say there are no obvious clues as to the contents, as there is no evidence of any substances, dry or liquid, being dispelled on impact.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they drop empty canisters?” I said.
“Perhaps they didn’t know they were empty,” Marranalis said.
“How many did they drop?” I asked.
“Over one hundred that have been identified so far.”
“And all of them empty?”
“Yes, so far.”
“Is there anything significant about where these canisters were dropped?” I asked.
“All drop sites are within a few kilometers of large cities, but that’s about all I can see,” said Marranalis.
It was about three hours later that we got our answer, when reports began to come in stating that the first responders to the canister scenes were falling violently ill. At first, the individuals began sweating profusely, then they complained of severe stomach cramps and muscle spasms. It had become obvious that the containers held some kind of harmful biological agent.
