by B. V. Larson
I looked at the numbers carefully. The big screen projected scenarios, displaying yellow shapes and dashed lines that showed where various units could be in near future. “I have to agree with Captain Sarin,” I said. “I’m placing the marine assault groups in a widely dispersed pattern behind the battle station and the front line of gunships. Essentially, I want them in reserve.”
We went on like this, planning and setting up. On the big board ships floated around in curved patterns. It was like a beautiful, carefully choreographed dance. Thousands of dancers on both sides performed their appointed roles in sequence.
I didn’t like the look of the Macro fleet. They had three big dreadnaughts up front, ready to shoot down anything we sent at them and absorb whatever they couldn’t shoot down. Behind that came the massed groups of cruisers. I didn’t like the look of any of these ships. They were clearly an attack group making their final approach.
“What about the Blues, sir?” Miklos asked me. “Those bastards decided to let us fry out here.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe they just failed to talk the Macros out of their mission. In any case, we don’t have time to do anything about them now.”
“That’s exactly what they counted on,” Jasmine said. “I can see it all clearly now. They told us whatever we wanted to hear, whatever would make us go away. They even bothered to transmit a few pathetic lies to the Macros to show us they were complying with our demands. But they knew the Macros would ignore it all. Now, they can sit back and watch the fun as we destroy ourselves, man and machine alike.”
I looked at her, careful to keep my eyes on her eyes. “That’s an excellent analysis. You’ve developed a healthy sense of paranoia, Captain. But I’m not sure if anyone needs a twisted reason to fail at convincing the Macros of anything. It’s quite easy to fail even when you’re really trying.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” Jasmine said. “We can’t be sure, so we can’t bomb them—at least, not until later.”
“If there is a ‘later’ for us,” Miklos said.
“Yeah,” I said, staring at the screen. “It appears the Lobsters are betting on the Macros again, too. Look.”
There were new contacts on the board, emerging from the seas of Yale this time. They lifted up and up, finally cresting out of the cloudy atmosphere that enshrouded the little water-moon. A swarm of ships, about twenty in all, followed the Macros distantly, cautiously.
“They look like troop transports, sir,” Miklos said. “They flatter us by copying our tactics.”
“I’ll make sure to mention that the next time they give us a lecture,” I said bitterly.
“They’re definitely betting on the Macros,” Sandra said. She’d come onto the bridge late and had missed all the awkward moments between Jasmine and I…fortunately.
“Let’s get those Blues on the line,” I demanded at last. “I want to talk to Intellect—or one of his relatives.”
There was a serious time lag in the connection, but we managed to get the conversation going. We watched the enemy approach closely over the next hour, but very little changed. The only noticeable difference was the heavy acceleration of the Crustacean transports. They wanted to come in close behind the Macros and ride in on their wake.
“This is the being known as Intellect,” a voice said at last. It sounded odd, coming through the translator over such a distance.
“Intellect, why are the Macros still coming? They are about to pass through the ring and attack us. You have failed to stop them, and we’re going to transmit our records, proving your treachery to the Macros.”
We waited again. By the time the Blues were able to respond, the Macros were at our doorstep. It was hard not to get a neck ache while watching them. The tension was thick aboard my command ship. My crewmen and even some of my senior staffers were tossing me reproachful looks and muttering to one another. The inference was clear: they thought I’d finally failed them.
At last, the Blues responded: “Your lack of comprehension is alarming. Do not take rash action! We are allied with you in the minds of the machines. All is well.”
“That’s it?” I shouted when the transmission ended.
“Yes sir.”
I stared at the screen, dumbfounded. The Blues really had screwed us. All is well? I didn’t think so. A thousand ships were at our doorstep and about to pass over it.
“Ready every weapon system,” I said grimly. “Miklos, launch the assault squadrons. I want half of them out in space, and half of them on reserve. Get them into position now.”
“Yes sir.”
I felt a touch at my elbow then. It was such a light contact, I almost didn’t notice it. But I looked down and saw Jasmine’s dark eyes staring back.
“Can I talk to you a moment?” she asked quietly.
I thought about it. We had twenty minutes or so before the first enemy ship came through the ring. Our scouts had already pulled back to our side. The battle was about to begin, but this was definitely the calm before the storm.
I nodded to her, and she led me out into the corridor. I looked around guiltily, but didn’t see Sandra. I looked back down at Jasmine. Her face was wreathed in worry.
“Do you think this is it?” she asked me.
“You mean are we going to lose? No.”
She studied my face, and gave me a flickering smile. “You’re a good liar,” she said. “What helps is that you do it so quickly. People tend to believe a response when it’s fast and certain.”
I almost demanded that she tell me what this was about. My second thought was to simply order her back to her post. But I hesitated. I figured maybe she wanted some final contact with me before we both died. It was a natural enough thing, I guess.
“Listen,” I said quietly. “I wish things had gone differently, but…”
She frowned, then laughed for a moment. “That’s not why we’re out here. I wanted to tell you a theory of mine. It might be very wrong. I’m not sold on it myself, but it would answer some questions.”
I felt a little let-down. I’d been mentally gearing up for a serious goodbye kiss, at the very least.
“Okay, tell me,” I said.
“Could it be the Blues meant that the Macros are counting us as allied too?” she asked.
I stared at her. “Why would they do that?”
“Maybe that’s how they operate. Maybe they said Star Force surrendered to the Blues, something like that. That would mark us as friendly in their minds.”
“Even after all we’ve done?”
“You’ve taught me how the machines think. They won’t judge us by our past actions the way a human would. They’re smart, but not that way.”
I thought about it, and agreed. “You might be onto something,” I said. “We’ve got to change our plans.”
I began to turn and march back to the bridge. My mind was whirling. I was trying to come up with a way to test Jasmine’s theory as quickly as possible. I had to stand down the fleet. We couldn’t fire on the Macros without breaking any possible deal the Blues had worked out for us. But at the same time, it would be a disaster if we trusted the machines and everyone held their fire until they came in so close we couldn’t stop them.
Jasmine’s small hand tugged at my armored elbow, and I paused, turning back around.
“Did you think of something else?” I asked.
She kissed me then. It was only a quick one, but I enjoyed it.
“You shouldn’t do stuff like that,” I said, protesting weakly. “Sandra will freak out if she catches us.”
“If you wanted this to be such a secret, you shouldn’t stare at my ass all the time,” she replied. “Even the robot noticed.”
I gave her a guilty nod. I had to admit, she had a good point there.
-34-
We spent the next several long hours traveling away from the sun. We had to beat the Macros to the battle station if we were going to meet them there with an effective defense. The G-forces were brutal as w
e were under heavy acceleration. Fortunately, my people were tougher than normal humans in this regard. None of them even complained about the discomfort.
Jasmine had given me new hope. I decided it was a big gamble, but worth a try. When things looked really, really bad, I tended to take bigger risks. The further down I was, the bigger the bet had to get me back into the game. The trick was to win the game in the end, no matter how you did it.
“Miklos,” I said, “does every ship have positional orders for the coming conflict?”
“Yes sir, we had plenty of time to distribute those orders. They aren’t in formation now, but they will be as soon as we’ve achieved a stable orbit near the ring.”
I checked the external view. The fleet was rapidly decelerating and trying to synch up with one another and slide into Hel’s orbit. The gunships surrounded my destroyer, all flaring exhaust out in long plumes. We’d gotten here as fast as we could, and that meant pulling a lot of Gs in acceleration and deceleration. My teeth still hurt, and my eyeballs felt like they were too big for their sockets. My crewmen probably felt worse than I did, but none of them complained. The need for speed was obvious to everyone.
“Give me one ship you can spare,” I told Miklos. “Something we don’t really need. Don’t worry about the crew, we’ll let them off. I’m just talking about sacrificing the ship itself.”
Miklos and several other staffers looked up and frowned at me. Only Jasmine nodded. I think she understood what I had in mind.
“Ah…yes, sir,” Miklos said, scrambling to comply with my odd request. “I don’t want to give up a gunship or a destroyer. It would have to be either a frigate, one of the last small Nano ships we have, or a transport. Which would you rather…sacrifice?”
That was a hard choice. The transports could save lives with their medical facilities and could even be used for invasions or evacuations. The Nano ships, however, each had a lot of nanites in them, with specialized equipment and long range lasers. Those lasers represented firepower that could shoot down incoming enemy missiles. We didn’t have enough defensive fire like that in the fleet.
“I’ll take the Nano ship,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. “If it had a factory aboard, there wouldn’t be any contest. But as our Nano ships aren’t equipped that way, I’ll make the decision on the basis of maneuverability. I need the ship to reach its position as fast as possible.”
“And what should the ship do at that point, Colonel? Blow itself up when the Macros cruise by?”
“Not quite,” I said. “Select the last Nano ship to arrive in orbit. Order her crew to exit the craft and join the battle station garrison. Then have them send the craft to hover directly in front of the ring. The ship must have standing orders not to fire or take any defensive action. If it gets hit, it is to simply stand there until destroyed or ordered to return to the battle station. Are those instructions clear, Captain?”
“Uh…I suppose so, sir.”
“Okay, relay that, then get ready for some really disturbing orders.”
There was a mild murmur going through the bridge now. I didn’t care. I didn’t have time to care. If Jasmine was right, this was the chance of a lifetime.
“Orders relayed,” Sandra said.
My staff didn’t look happy. Possibly, they weren’t looking forward to more crazy instructions from me.
“Now,” I said, “engage the self-destruct sequence on every mine out there at the ring. I want everything within twenty thousand miles to blow itself up. Not ships, just those half-smart mines.”
Miklos looked at me with bulging eyes. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again. Finally, he said: “Yes sir.”
I was proud of him. I was proud of all of them. Sure, they were casting side glances at me with incredulous expressions. But they were on-task. They weren’t arguing or asking for clarifications. They were just following orders. I liked that.
Partly, I was testing them. I could have explained everything to them in detail, but there wasn’t much time and I didn’t feel like fending off a lot of pointless questions and arguments. To their credit, they trusted me enough to follow my orders. The only slowdown involved a lot of worried looks and one-second hesitations. But they kept moving.
“Captain Sarin, give me the overall tactical on-screen.”
I stared down into the blue-black glow, and the situation changed. Already, one of our Nano ships had slipped away toward the ring. The crew was a cluster of tiny green dots, which merged with the hulking battle station as I watched. The lone Nano ship hurried toward the ring.
Over the next several minutes, thousands of mines flashed white and vanished near the ring. At the same time, my fleet pulled up around the battle station and jockeyed themselves into a rough formation encircling it.
“Now Jasmine,” I said, “are there any of our mines within twenty thousand miles of that ring? Do a full scan. Include the mines we’re flying around Hel in a slingshot pattern.”
“No sir. They’ve all popped themselves.”
“Good. How long until the first Macro ship is due to arrive?”
Miklos answered that one: “We lost contact with them when we pulled back our scouts, but estimates range between eight and ten minutes, sir.”
I leaned back and nodded. “All right, that’s the best we can do. Here are the general fleet orders: “No one is to fire anything without my order, or confirmed evidence that the Macro fleet has fired upon them first. This is due to the fact that the Macros have us now marked in their database as allied. If we fire upon them or take any other aggressive action, they will put us back on the list scheduled for destruction. Relay that to everyone in the fleet, Sandra.”
She did it, without a syllable of complaint. But when she was done, she looked at me seriously. “How the hell did you pull this off, Kyle? And are you sure?”
I smiled. “The Blues did it for us. Jasmine figured it out. Since they’re allied with the Macros, by telling them they’re allied with us, we’ve been marked down as friendly too. At least…that’s the theory.”
“But what if the theory is wrong, sir?” Miklos asked.
“Then we’re screwed. But, that’s also why I’m flying the sacrificial Nano ship out there. If they blow it, up it’s game-on. I want everyone to notice one critical thing: they have yet to shower us with missiles. They’re barreling right into the Eden system, without the covering plume of missiles they fired last time.”
My team stared and a few nodded. They looked worried, but willing. In some faces, I saw a flicker of hope. They were starting to get it. The enemy might not fire a shot. This battle may not happen at all.
Sandra looked up at me, “I have Welter requesting a private channel, sir.”
I’d left Welter in charge of the battle station. I knew he wouldn’t be happy about letting the Macros fly away from that ring untouched.
I waved a gauntlet at Sandra, indicating she should open the channel.
“Colonel Riggs?” Welter asked. “With all due respect, sir. I do not understand my new orders.”
“You are to stand down, Commander Welter. You are not to fire upon the enemy until I give the signal, or until you are taking verified incoming fire from them. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, the best firing opportunity will be the moment they come through that ring. If my railgun volley doesn’t meet them the second they appear, we’ll have given up a golden chance to inflict maximum damage upon the enemy.”
“That’s just it, Welter. Right now, they are not the enemy. At least, they don’t think they are.”
“Has that been confirmed, Colonel?”
I looked at the clock Sarin had set up. “The theory will be confirmed or debunked in about seventy-nine seconds. Hold your fire until we see what they do.”
I thought I heard him mutter something unpleasant, but then the channel closed itself.
I had a thought then. The Centaurs. “Sandra, connect me to Sloan’s assault group.”
A momen
t later Sloan was on the line. I’d increased his rank to that of Major after the battle with the Imperial forces. His Centaurs had performed flawlessly.
“Major Sloan,” I said. “What is the disposition of your troops?”
“They’re hanging back as per your orders, Colonel. They don’t seem to like it much though. They want to charge and get it all over with, I guess.”
I nodded. I’d had a lot of experience with the Centaur urge for violent self-sacrifice. In battle, they often behaved like lemmings—well-armed, savage lemmings.
“Keep a tight leash on them, Sloan. I’m counting on you. Tell them not to worry, they’ll get to fight the machines when the time comes.”
“Sir, they’re coming through,” Jasmine said.
I stared at the screen. The first red contacts appeared. They rapidly glowed and brightened as the brainboxes took their sensor data and depicted them with increasing accuracy. Dashed lines appeared, showing the enemy flight path. They were moving more slowly than they usually did, and they were changing direction even as they came through the ring.
“They are going to sail right by us,” Sandra said aloud.
I could see she was right. The ships were following a sweeping curve that glided very near the station.
“Everyone, hold your fire,” I said. “That’s an order. Have they shot anything yet? Answer me, people.”
Jasmine, Sandra and Miklos each met my gaze with a shake of the head. I dared to take a deep breath.
“They’re going for it, people,” I said. “It’s all up to us not to blow it at this point. I don’t want anyone to do so much as light up a campfire out there. Do you all hear me?”
Many heads nodded.
“Should we talk to them, Colonel?” Sandra asked.
“Hell no,” I said. “Not unless they demand that we do so. Hold tight everyone. Pretend a big bear is walking around outside our tent. If we all just huddle inside, it will probably go away.”
