Escape 3: Defeat the Aliens

by T. Jackson King

  Bill grinned. How would this ship mind react to fake out bidding in a poker game? It clearly was not able to read facial expressions. Not yet anyway. “That is correct. We humans come in two primary genders, male and female, along with variants of those two genders. You are familiar with gender variations, aren’t you?”

  “I am. I chose the male gender after my birth and graduation from the nursery asteroid at the star you call Kepler 443.”

  “Welcome to bio-life,” he called to the vanishing form of the two bots and AI.

  “Thank you.”

  The three mech creatures disappeared around the curve of the left side hallway. Time for him to return to duty. He picked up his walk until he was loping along the corridor, his backpack jiggling a bit. It felt less heavy than before. That made sense considering the stuff he’d left behind on Fear Arrives. Demo balls and magnetic disruptor blocks were not light items. He stopped before the Command Bridge entry hatch. He pulled up his ship’s red cube from where it hung about the waist of his tube suit, pointed it at the hatch and pressed the Open spot. The hatch swung out toward him, moving to his right. He stepped through the hatch.

  Jane was sitting six feet up on top of the command pedestal, her posture in her captain’s seat one of tenseness. Ahead of him were Bright Sparkle, Chester, Wind Swift and Lofty Flyer.

  “Hey everyone! I’m back!”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Jane heard Bill’s words. She turned, looked back to him, let her eyes drink in the fact he showed no wounds, and smiled. Then she saluted him.

  “Welcome back, XO. Excellent job you did in taking over that ship. Any surprises?”

  Bill saluted her back, walked up to just below her elevated seat, looked up, gave her a wink, then headed forward. “Not a lot. Turns out the Mokden snake-gorillas can shake off a taser hit. I got him at least once and he showed no reaction. Which is why I used the laser. Several times. He pursued me. He died before he could try to wrassle me.”

  Jane wondered at that. She’d heard his voice when he’d lied to the monster about cutting his way through a wall with his laser. She’d heard Death Leader’s voice reacting. The two demo ball blasts had been loud to her ears. Then she’d heard only the sounds of heavy breathing on Bill’s part, some grunts, the sounds of a struggle, the snap as his helmet opened up. Then had come the sound of Bill’s taser zapping the crewpersons on the ship. That was followed by his discussion with ship mind Dexterity. Had it been as easy as Bill made it sound? Maybe she could get the newly arrived Dexterity to transmit holo vids of what had happened on the bridge. Sometime when Bill was elsewhere. What mattered was he was here, alive and ready to take over his Weapons station.

  “Sounds good,” she replied. She tapped the weapons control pillar in front of her. “Just transferred your Weapons control functions back to your station.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled off his backpack, let it fall behind his seat, then sat. Her husband, lover and ship’s Executive Officer leaned forward, touching the four holo control pillars that partly surrounded his work station. He fixed on the systems graphic holo to his left. “The Fear Arrives is not doing anything. Though it is powered up and operational thanks to its two surviving fusion reactors. What next?”

  “Wellll . . . ,” she said slowly. “I thought you might like to aim our antimatter projector at that hulk and remove it from my sight. Yes?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Bill grinned. Whenever Jane spoke that way he had learned it was both an invitation and a prompt for him to do something. “Yes. Very much yes, captain.”

  He checked his true space holo. It showed nothing but a scatter of white stars and the distant blue sparkle of Earth. Plus the yellow orb of the Sun at the upper left of the holo. He looked at his Weapons holo. The cross-section of the ship showed most weapons as Green Operational. The topside plasma battery was a melted pile of junk thanks to a laser hit. There was a large opening over the Collector Pod Chamber where something had removed 40 feet of hull. And there was a smaller hole above the ship’s Containment Cell Chamber. Which was now being closed by repair robots and hover bots sent there by Star Traveler. The ship’s MITV railgun launching chamber below his level was empty of torps. What was operational were the pairs of nose and tail lasers, the belly plasma battery and the topside antimatter projector. The AM reservoir held enough antimatter for six shots. He tapped the fire control panel to set up the targeting reticule for the AM projector. Putting his finger on the panel, he moved the reticule sideways until it lay directly over the front part of the Fear Arrives. He tapped that part of the panel, locking in the target lock.

  “Captain, ready to fire.”

  “XO and Weapons Chief, fire.”

  Bill tapped the fire patch on the panel.

  In his true space holo, a black beam of antimatter spat forward at the speed of light. Its contact with the giant bulbous nose of the enemy ship was disastrous. A yellow-white cloud of energy replaced the front portion of the ship. He tapped the fire patch again. The second antimatter beam hit the faint plasma cloud, vaporized the few particles in it, then passed through and struck the middle fragment of the ship. The fragment became yellow-white plasma in the true space holo. The radar, infrared, ultraviolet and neutrino sensors on his weapons control pillar showed the rest of the story. Nothing solid remained. Only billowing gases briefly produced by the matter-to-energy destruction of the enemy ship showed on the true space holo. Which now vanished since the powerful explosion had consumed nearly a hundred percent of the ship’s matter. The purple dot of the ship disappeared from his system graphic holo. He looked right to his comlink holo. Jane’s image filled it.

  “Captain, enemy ship Fear Arrives is gone. No enemy ships are operational. Enemy commander is dead.”

  Behind him he heard a loud sigh from her. Chester also sighed and sat back in his seat. Bright Sparkle gave him a thumbs-up and a big smile. Wind Swift and Lofty Flyer showed their approval in the manner of their species.

  “Excellent,” Jane said, her tone command formal. “Star Traveler, establish an encrypted neutrino comlink to Peterson. Mark it to the attention of General Harriet Poindexter.”

  “Signal sent. Response incoming.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Jane looked to her right at her comlink holo. It filled with the black face and gray-streaked hair of her commander and the chief of the United States Air Force. She was also the woman in command of all Earth forces operating beyond the atmosphere, by command of President Hartman and agreement of other national leaders. And she was the mother of a grown son who had come close to dying in the attacks on American rocket launching bases that had happened during Diligent Taskmaster’s six ship attack on Earth. On the woman’s right side sat General Paul J. McAuley, chairman of the JCS, his thick-jawed face looking very sober. On her left sat the Japanese-American general who commanded the Army. Beyond those people were the other chiefs of the Marines, Navy, National Guard and the vice chairman of the JCS. Seven in all. They were all there, like that day a year ago when she had orbited above Peterson in the sole starship controlled by a human. How things had changed since then. She saluted the woman.

  “General Poindexter, I report. The enemy is defeated. Their ships are destroyed or disabled. There is no longer any Alien threat to Earth.”

  The woman fixed brown eyes on her. Her slim fingers held an iPad just above the flat screen inset into the tactical display table at Building One where the JCS chiefs now sat. Behind Poindexter and the chiefs were several dozen people of all officer grades. Those included officers from Britain, France, Russia and China, as best she could tell by the uniforms they wore. Clearly Building One had become the joint command site for the defense of Earth.

  “So we have observed, Captain Yamaguchi. We appreciated the continuous neutrino downlink of audio vid from your command deck.” Poindexter glanced down at her iPad, winced, then laid it down. She looked up. “What were our losses?”

  Jane had been dreading this moment. It was
one reason she’d stalled on destroying the Fear Arrives until Bill’s return. That had now happened. It was time to face her duty, as Bill had.

  “My fleets lost one Collector ship and eight subs.” She licked her lips, recalling sad details from memory. Painful memory. “The Collector ship USS Pointe De Hoc, BBG-6, was lost with all aboard. Those were Captain Jesse Winthorp, two Rangers, two Delta Force enlisted and a Slinkeroo crewmate. Six in all.” She took a deep breath. “The lost subs are the USS Wyoming, USS Louisiana, USS Minnesota, HMS Vengeance, FNS Terrible, Vladimir Monomakh, Alexsandr Nevskiy and the Chairman Mao Zedong. People lost on the subs amount to at least 1,029. Plus we lost Ranger Mark Neller when the USS Musan was hit by a laser. That ship lost both engines and is being corralled by the USS Tangi Valley. In total, we lost 1,036 humans and one Alien ally during our multiple battles near and past Jupiter.”

  Poindexter blinked, licked her lips, then nodded quickly. “We will handle the notifications to their families and spouses. And to the Slinkeroo embassy in Geneva. What of the enemy ships that survived? What is their status?”

  Finally, a chance to share some good news. “We destroyed eight enemy Collector ships, including the flagship Fear Arrives. Twenty-two enemy ships have lost their Magfield engines, but most of each ship is intact. The ship minds on 21 ships are cooperating with us. Most AIs blocked weapons use in the early part of the battle. One ship mind was destroyed by the enemy in order to regain ship control.” She paused, checked her system graphics holo, and looked back to the woman who controlled her destiny. “General Poindexter, I have asked those subs and Collector ships who lag behind my current group of five ships to use their Magfield spacedrives to rendezvous with the enemy ships, then use their drives to push those ships onto a vector aimed at the Earth-Moon system. As I discussed with you, I plan to move the surviving enemy ships into orbit above Earth. There to receive new Magfield engines from the ship factory you recently orbited. Is this disposition satisfactory?”

  McAuley’s expression brightened. “So we have gained the foundations for 22 new Collector ships? With operational stardrives?”

  Jane noticed the calmness of Poindexter. Well, if she wasn’t bothered by the JCS chairman’s insertion of himself into her first debriefing, she would not object. “General McAuley, yes, that is correct. And yes, all 22 captured enemy ships have operational Alcubierre stardrives. All stardrives are located in the middle of a Collector ship. Only the rear third of each ship was destroyed.”

  She noticed the movement of the foreign officers closer to the JCS table. Clearly some of them wanted to claim some of her captured ships. The Army chief of staff on Poindexter’s left leaned forward.

  “Captain Poindexter, Ranger Sergeant Neller was part of my Army family,” said the general, whose name she recalled was Kenji Fujiwara. “Please be aware we will shortly inform his parents that he is being awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, the Distinguished Service Medal and the Purple Heart.” The man paused. “Captain Winthorp was also a Ranger. She too will be awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, the Distinguished Service Medal and the Purple Heart. The other Ranger and Delta Force crew members on her ship will each be awarded the Distinguished Service Medal, the Soldier’s Medal and the Purple Heart. I wish I could do more.”

  Her heart thumped faster. The many deaths she had just recited were terrible. The deaths of people she knew was worse. The loss of Bill’s saloon buddy Mark was supremely painful. She’d gotten to know the man. His absence from her life was a hollow echo deep inside. “Thank you, General Fujiwara. The news . . . is good to hear. I hope it will give solace to his parents and her husband.”

  Poindexter leaned forward. “That is also my hope. For Sergeant Neller’s parents and for the families of all those we lost. Finally, yes, your use of outlying ships to redirect the 22 enemy ships is approved by me.” The middle-aged woman looked down at her iPad, then up, her curly black eyebrows lifting. “Captain Yamaguchi, what is—”

  “General,” interrupted the new Chief of Naval Operations, a black man whose head was shaved smooth. “May I add a few words?”

  The woman looked to her far left where the CNO sat. “Vice Admiral Jackson, you may.”

  The man fixed dark brown eyes on Jane. “Captain Yamaguchi, my Navy family lost Captain Joshua Baraka of the Louisiana, Captain Paul Leonard of the Minnesota and Captain Janet Murchison of the Wyoming. I aim to ensure they will each receive the Navy Cross for their incredible willingness to dive their subs into enemy Collector ships. Thereby removing the ultimate threat to America. Their crews will each receive the Navy and Marine Corps Medal, plus the Purple Heart. Thank you.”

  Poindexter’s expression did not show irritation. If anything, her veil of command sternness gained a tinge of sadness. She looked to Jane. “Captain, what is the status of your fleet? What ships, specifically, are still operational and able to defend Earth and the Solar system?”

  She glanced at her systems graphic holo. It showed the presence of every operational Magfield engine in her spread-out fleet. Jane looked up. “Collector ships that are still operational include the USS Blue Sky, USS Tangi Valley, USS Rolling Thunder, USS Takur Ghar, USS Seafloat, USS Chapultepec Castle, USS Manila Bay, USS Neil C. Roberts, USS Fallujah, USS Moberly and the USS Harken. The USS Musan is intact but its Magfield engines are melted down.” She paused, glanced at the system graphic, then looked back. “Our surviving boomer subs include the USS Henry M. Jackson, USS Alabama, USS Alaska, USS Nevada, USS Tennessee, USS Pennsylvania, USS West Virginia, USS Kentucky, USS Maryland, USS Nebraska, USS Rhode Island and the USS Maine. Among our allies, there survive the Dimitry Donskoy, the Yuri Dolgorukiy and the Emperor Huang Ti. In short, 11 Collector ships and 15 subs are fully operational.”

  Poindexter blinked. “Excellent news. Please bring your ship, the USS Neil C. Roberts and your three Trident subs back to Earth. How long will it take you to arrive here?”

  “Two hours or so,” Jane said, wondering what the woman had in mind.

  The black woman frowned. “But your ships are traveling at, uh, 13 or was it 14 percent of lightspeed? Won’t it take longer to slow them down so you can make Earth orbit?”

  Jane shook her head. She ignored the smile of Bill as he looked back at her. “General Poindexter, all ships using Magfield spacedrives are able to slow down nearly as fast as we can speed up. It’s just a matter of setting the engines to push against the Sun and inner planets, rather than pull toward them. We will slow to one percent of lightspeed within the next ten minutes. I plan to take it slower than normal due to the strain our engines experienced during the hyper-fast pursuit we did of the leading enemy ships.”

  “Oh.” The woman gave a quick nod. “Of course you know your ships best. We look forward to your arrival here and—”

  “Incoming signal,” muttered McAuley from her right, pointing down at his own iPad. “You know who.”

  Poindexter frowned, then nodded. She looked up. “Captain, President Melody Hartman is joining us live, from the White House.” The woman stood up, as did the other chiefs.

  Jane hurriedly did the same. As did Chester and Bill. And Bright Sparkle, bless her. “Star Traveler, please repeat our comlink holo signal at the front of the bridge.”

  “Complying.”

  A tall holo appeared before the line of function stations. She faced the holo as did her crewmates. All of them saluted.

  Melody Hartman filled the holo. This time she was standing behind her wooden desk in the Oval Office. She turned from looking out the window at the people passing distantly on the sidewalk beyond the fence that encircled the White House. Her curly brown hair had gray streaks in it. Her brown eyebrows looked lighter than before. She was wearing a checkered blue and green pantsuit. While trim looking, the older woman looked tired as she put hands on her hips and faced Jane.

  “Captain Yamaguchi, thank you from the bottom of my heart for defeating our foe.” The woman’s soprano voice sounded strong and firm. Her gaze b
ecame that of the new FDR she had aspired to be. “Are your other ships and subs receiving my image?”

  “Yes, madame president. I have always shared all communications from high command with my fellow captains,” Jane said, hoping her voice did crack. She still held her salute, as did Bill and Chester.

  The woman nodded quickly. Good. Be at ease, all of you.” Jane dropped her salute and adopted a parade rest posture. “Glad to hear that so many of our Collector ships and subs survived this battle. And that your XO once again boarded an enemy ship and took down its commander.” The woman, who Jane knew was looking at a flat screen repeater image of her bridge and crew, looked toward Bill. “Chief Petty Officer MacCarthy, enlisted grade E-7, please be aware that I am recommending to the DOD that you be promoted to Lieutenant Commander, officer grade O-3.” She looked back to Jane. “Air Force Captain Yamaguchi, you command our nation’s only space fleet. I will nominate you to assume the rank of Brigadier General, grade O-7. I suspect the Senate will quickly approve your promotion.”

  Shock filled her. She was being jumped past three ranks above her, from her O-3 Captain rank to a one star general. Then again, it was wartime and wartime promotions came fast. Plus hers was a new branch of the Air Force. Or rather, Air Force and Navy, considering the BBG designation of her Collector ship. Well, being a brigadier general was better than being some kind of admiral. She saluted again, then smiled.

  “Madame President, thank you! I never expected—”

  “I know you didn’t. Nor did your XO,” the woman interrupted, her manner sharply focused. “But you and he earned these promotions. As did those ship captains and crew who died in combat.” The woman’s pale pink lipstick looked weathered. She blinked quickly. “Regarding your fleet members and the captured enemy ships. Be aware that I will propose to Congress that America provide a rebuilt Collector ship to Great Britain, France, China and Russia. They each lost one or more subs. America will still possess 18 new Collector ships plus your 12 that survived the battle. I doubt any Buyer society starship or group of ships will ever again attack the Solar system and Earth. Let alone the United States of America.”