by Jay Allan
Harmon felt a touch of sadness at the thought of his family’s reality. He told himself Mariko’s conduct was unnecessary, that she overreacted to the perceived danger. But, if he was honest with himself, he knew he shared her concerns, and no matter how hard he tried to fool himself.
He was glad she acted the way she did, that she always worked to ingratiate herself to the Marines. Because he knew as well as she did that the handpicked fighters were the last line between those he loved and the backlash against what he’d done all these years.
He’d served his nation, at least he could still tell himself that much…but he knew his family had paid the price, in pointless danger, and in lost years of peace and freedom. He hated himself for it…but that was something to which he’d adapted, something he could live with.
What he couldn’t live with was the time—and he feared it would come one day—when Mariko and his daughters hated him for it, too.
Chapter Nine
Central Headquarters
Victory City, Earth Two
Earth Two Date 12.02.42
“They did what?” Harmon was still tired, but the flash of anger energized him. He’d just walked into his office, where Erika West, Connor Frasier, and the rest of his military council were waiting for him.
“They sent a pair of drones back to Earth Two…by a direct route.” It was clear from West’s tone, she was at least aware that what she was describing was a violation of mandated procedure. It was less obvious whether she condemned it, or if she thought the data it contained justified the risky action.
“That’s just great. What the hell was…” It took Harmon a moment to remember the name of the mission’s commander. “…Graham thinking?”
“Sir, the information is of great strategic value. It appears almost certain that Captain Graham’s exploration fleet has discovered the Regent’s primary—and quite possibly only—antimatter production source.” West had abandoned branding the New Regent’s existence as a hypothesis some time before, and now she simply referred to it as the fact she took it to be.
Harmon understood the magnitude of what West was saying. Antimatter-powered drives and weapons were the single largest technological advantage remaining to the First Imperium forces. The Mules’ tireless research had closed many of the other gaps, unlocked dozens of secrets of the Ancients. But the cost-effective production of large quantities of antimatter had remained out of reach.
He sat, hard in his chair, barely noticing as an orderly stepped up next to him and set down a cup of steaming coffee.
“I understand the significance of the discovery, Erika, but if there is one thing we can’t allow—ever—it’s for the enemy to find Earth Two. The decoy systems, the extended routes specified for incoming and outgoing traffic…it’s all in place for just that purpose.”
“That is true, sir…but you know as well as I do, everything is an exercise in risk-taking, at least to a certain extent. Will the enemy upgrade the defenses of this newly-discovered system if given enough time? It appears to be strongly held now, but not invincible. If we throw everything we can at it, we just might be able to take it out. And that will go a long way to evening the odds in this struggle.”
“Do we dare move so much from our defenses here? Especially when we’ve just had a security breach of this magnitude?”
“I would not overestimate the danger, sir. Roland Graham is a gifted officer. He would not have taken any undue risks. It appears that the ships sending the drones were able to escape the system while the main fleet engaged the enemy.” Her tone changed, became more somber. Harmon understood…whatever Captain Graham had done the chances were excellent he’d sacrificed his own life—and the lives of most of his people—to do it. “They traveled through the adjacent system to the next one down the line, scanning the entire way…and they didn’t launch the drones until they’d determined that the second system was clear.”
“You know as well as I do, that’s not any guarantee. The enemy has stealth ships and probes, even as we do.” The development of such resources, and tools to thwart them, had become somewhat of an arms race between the Regent and the republic’s researchers, mostly the Mules. Generally, detection had won out, at least with things as large as warships. Stealth had maintained somewhat of an edge with small, low powered devices, like the communications drones.
“The fleet’s drones were of our newest design, with the latest stealth systems installed.” She paused, looking at Harmon for a few seconds, but answering his next question before he asked it. “Yes, there is some risk the enemy could have tracked them back to Earth Two, through the checkpoints, without their own scanning drones being picked up by any of our detection arrays…but it is minimal.”
Harmon almost snapped back, but he paused. Erika West was one of the hardest officers he’d ever known, and he’d long ago learned to take her analysis seriously. “I’m not sure we can afford even minimal risks…and don’t forget, Erika, they don’t have to find us to cause a great deal of harm. Even if they were able to follow the communications drones through a few systems, they could dramatically narrow their search parameters, and shave years off the time it will take to find us.”
As far as Max Harmon knew, none of his most trusted advisors thought it would be anything but ‘when’ for a guess on the Regent’s forces discovering Earth Two’s location. ‘If’ was for dewy-eyed optimists, and, after what he’d seen in his sixty years of service in space and on Earth Two, either ‘dewy-eyed’ or ‘optimist’ were the last things anyone could call him.
And absolutely the last things anyone would call Erika West.
“So, you’re certain, Erika? You think we should strike at this target, try to interrupt the enemy’s antimatter production?”
“I do, sir.” She hesitated. “It’s not that I think it will be easy, or that there aren’t a hundred ways it could go wrong. But, I believe it might be our best chance to equalize things. There isn’t much doubt the enemy has more ships than we do, and a greater production infrastructure…but we’ve always managed to fight off the First Imperium despite being outnumbered. If we could eliminate the antimatter differential, the edge it gives them in both acceleration and firepower, I am sure we could meet them on something like equal terms. I think I’ve got a chance to at least damage that facility.”
Harmon took a deep breath. “You want to command the expedition personally?”
“Sir…if we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to commit most of the fleet.” A pause. “Yes, Mr. President, I would like to command in person.”
Harmon felt the urge to argue, to order West to remain on Earth Two, to tell her that he needed her there. That would be no lie. He did need her. She was one of his oldest colleagues, among the most trusted of his inner circle…and, without doubt, the best naval officer Earth Two had, himself included.
Which was why he realized she’d have to go. If he sent most of the fleet on such a desperate mission, he couldn’t deprive those spacers of the very best commander they could get. He thought, for a moment, about commanding the fleet himself…but he knew he couldn’t leave Earth Two. He’d held onto power for twelve years, and more importantly, he’d kept things from descending into a ruinous struggle between the planet’s genetic groupings. But that peace was a tenuous one, and it had been fading in recent years. He’d risk everything he’d done if he left now, especially on such a long and desperate journey.
Besides, Erika West can kick my ass in a space battle…
“Are you sure, Erika? You have a whole navy that depends on you.” There was more than just general concern for his friend at work. Twelve years before, Harmon had sent another of his friends, Nicki Frette, off in command of a fleet to engage the Regent’s forces. She’d come back…but she’d spent the last twelve years in a coma, defying every effort of the medical staff and the Mules to help her recover. She was still alive, but that was the most that could be said.
And, Frette had been West’s lover.
That didn’t affect the tactical situation in any real way, but it was upsetting nevertheless, and he felt a strange uneasiness with sending West out in some bizarre replay of the mission that had all but killed her partner.
“Most of the navy will be there, sir. If we do this, we have to commit. It’s going to take just about everything we have to give us a real chance.” She paused. “If…something happens…you can handle the new ship construction and the command of the remaining defensive forces, at least until you pick someone else to take over.” West was speaking far too matter-of-factly about her own death to suit him. But, he just nodded.
“Okay…” He hesitated, taking another few seconds to accept what he knew he had to do. “…put together a fleet roster, and a list of the ordnance and supplies you think it will take. You’ll command the expedition. But, I expect you to exert all reasonable caution, Admiral. This is not the same situation as a last-ditch defense of Earth Two. If you lose confidence at any point, if you even smell trouble you hadn’t accounted for, you are to cancel the operation and get your fleet out of there. You are not expendable, Admiral, and neither is your fleet. Is that understood? Completely understood?” Harmon didn’t think Erika West was the type to give in to desperation and despair and throw her life away over a lost love, and certainly not to lead her spacers into such an endeavor. But, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“I understand, sir. Completely. This is a chance to bring things closer to an even matchup, to weaken our enemy before they have a chance to find and threaten our homeworld. At any moment when that changes, when the odds of a favorable outcome no longer justify the risk, I’ll pull the fleet out immediately.”
Harmon and West were silent for a moment, even as he stared at his friend, trying, perhaps for the first time, to decide if he truly believed her. West had always been straight with him, even in the days when she’d outranked him. But there was something in her tone, her eyes. The admiral had a good poker face, there was no doubt about that. But Harmon was still worried.
Connor Frasier cleared his throat and spoke up. “Should I prepare an expeditionary force to accompany the operation, Mr. President? We might want to land and try to seize control of the facility.”
Harmon didn’t answer immediately. He looked over at West, silent for a moment, and then he said, “Assuming we do this, Admiral, do you think there’s a chance in hell we’ll have the opportunity to capture the place instead of destroy it? And, to hold it if we did?” He was doubtful…but he asked anyway.
West frowned. “I don’t know, sir. It seems unlikely. Perhaps a quick raid, a chance to steal some antimatter, and ship it back home. Even enough for a stockpile of missiles might make a big difference in some future battle.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “But, I don’t see it, sir. It’s not like grabbing crates full of gold bars or something. We need to get the antimatter out of whatever storage facility holds it, and into something portable. And, the slightest screwup, a nanosecond of containment failure at any step, and the whole thing is lost, along with anyone within fifty kilometers.”
“You’re probably right. If there was any real chance, I’d say yes, but it doesn’t seem realistic.”
“I still think we need Marines, though.” West turned and looked over at Frasier. “Our scanning data on the planet’s surface is incomplete, but from what I can see, it’s very possible that most of the production facilities are deep underground. That’s where I’d put them, if I was in charge. Which means even a massive nuclear bombardment is only going to take out their surface solar collection panels and some secondary facilities, maybe some storage compartments. If we catch some antimatter on the surface, we might create quite the show, but if those main production and storage facilities are deep enough, we can’t be sure of knocking them out, not completely. We might cut down its output levels, but you can bet they’re drawing all sorts of power, and some of that will be from volcanic activity and other sources out of the reach of our missiles. If you want that place taken out—really taken out—we’ll have to send Marines in…and they’ll have to fight their way down to the primary facilities…and rig them to blow.”
“That sounds like a difficult mission, maybe damned near impossible.” Harmon looked over at Frasier. “Connor?”
The Marine returned the stare, and Harmon wondered if he caught an instant of doubt on the man’s face before the impenetrable mask of the veteran warrior slammed back into place. “We can do it, sir. It will take a significant force, but we’ll get it done.”
Harmon would have discounted what he perceived as a bit of Marine bluster…if Frasier hadn’t delivered on so many ‘impossible’ promises before. “It will have to be a strong force, Connor, as well-equipped as we can manage.”
“I’ll see to it personally, sir. I’ll get you the proposed roster by tomorrow morning, and if you approve it, we’ll be ready to…”
“No, Connor…not you.”
“Sir? If you want the best-prepared force, I should be with them.”
“I have no doubt about that, my old friend, but you’ll have to choose someone else to lead the expeditionary force. I need you here.” There was truth to that, of course. Harmon knew that the relative calm of the past twelve years was beginning to unravel, and whatever happened, he couldn’t allow his regime to be challenged, not while the fleet was out on campaign. Still, as much as he relied on Frasier and his Marines to keep him in power against any challenges, he suspected his unwillingness to sacrifice another of his few remaining true friends was also at play. He hated the idea of letting Erika West risk her life on something like this, but he realized he had no choice there. But, as good as Frasier was, he had subordinates he’d trained, men and women who could lead the Marines on their desperate assault as well as he could…or nearly so.
“Sir…” Frasier was a Marine to the core, and arguing with the commander-in-chief wasn’t in his DNA. He twisted around uncomfortably, looking as though he was praying for Harmon to change his mind, but he didn’t dispute Harmon’s decision.
“Connor, I know you want to be with your people. We both know this mission is going to be a tough one. But, I need your help…I can’t do what I have to do here without you here.” He paused, and then he hit Frasier where it hurt. “And, think of the Corps, not just the Marines sent with the fleet. We’ll be risking most of our veterans. You need to be here to train the new classes, to guide the young Marines. To make sure there is a Corps in ten years…or twenty.”
Frasier still didn’t look happy, but he nodded gently. “Yes, sir,” was all he said. It was all he had to say.
Harmon knew his words had found their mark.
Chapter Ten
Central Headquarters
Victory City, Earth Two
Earth Two Date 12.11.42
“That’s just great.” Max Harmon shook his head, a look of disgust taking over his face. “We’ve managed to keep the League and the other extremist NB groups under control for twelve years, and now you come in here with the greatest recruiting program they could hope for. You do realize that if I release all restrictions on Hybrid quickenings—ostensibly to keep the younger Mules from rebelling—we’re telling everyone with even the slightest League sympathies that they were right all along, that the Mules are a threat to everyone. I’m not saying that is the case, but you can be damned sure that’s how it will look.”
“Or, we’re saying this is justice, what should have been done long ago…that there is no place in our civilization for singling out different societal groups.” Hieronymus Cutter was sitting in one of the chairs opposite Earth Two’s dictator. He’d been trying to make his case, as he had on more than one occasion, but it was clear he realized it had gone somewhat awry.
“That’s not entirely accurate, Hieronymus.” Erika West sat at one of the other seats, and she turned and looked toward the scientist. She was clad in a duty uniform, not the usual dress job she wore when her duties brought her to the President’s office. Harmon himself had
asked her to come right away, as she was, from the docks where she’d been supervising the fleet preparations. “Natural births are self-regulating, at least to a point. And, since most of the women on Earth Two of childbearing age are also engaged in one form or another of work responsibilities, we don’t come anywhere close to a theoretical maximum of births, even with our programs to promote reproduction. Artificial…cloned…”
She paused. Harmon was watching, and he held back a sigh. He could see the admiral wasn’t sure how to refer to births other than those produced in the traditional way. If the hard-edged West was uncertain and concerned with offending people with words that strayed too far from popular orthodoxy, that was proof enough that Earth Two’s still-nascent society was heading in the wrong direction.
“…births are not limited in the same way. It only takes a few cells to clone a human being, and, while the restrictions imposed on the Mules are inarguably more severe, there are limitations on Tank births as well, and for similar reasons.”
“Yes…because the naturally-born residents of Earth Two don’t want to be reduced to a small minority…the very same fate we inflict on the Mules. If there must be restrictions, they should at least allow the Mules to keep pace with the NB population’s growth, as the Tank limits do.” Cutter’s debate skills had come a long way since his days as an introverted scientist, but he had an emotional stake in the Mules’ future, too, and it was showing clearly.
“It is foolish to pretend the Mules are the same as the Tanks.” West frowned. “They are…”
“That’s enough.” Harmon shook his head and reach up, rubbing his temples. He rarely interrupted his key advisors, and he always tried hard to deemphasize the fact that he wielded absolute power. “You’re both right…and wrong. Life is rarely so simple as to present black and white solutions to problems. It is absurd not to consider the capabilities of the Mules, and anyone here who suggests he or she doesn’t understand where the fear of unrestricted population growth among them come from is either lying or deluding himself.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Similarly, I don’t find it credible that there is even one of you who doesn’t understand why the Mules are upset…or who thinks they have no reason to have the same kinds of concerns the others do, worries about what the rest of Earth Two’s population will do to control them in the future if their numbers shrink further as a percentage of the population.”
