by B. V. Larson
“Let’s hope so.”
“Sir?” Captain Sarin called me from her post. She still stood at the table, as she had done for at least a full day. “Could you come look at this?”
“I will,” I said, “if you promise to take a look at your bunk for the next few hours. You are relieved on ops, Captain.”
“Thanks for the thought, sir,” she said. “But take a look at this, first.”
I walked over and examined the board. I frowned, as the Macro force had split into two groups. One was heading for the Helios ring, while the other, smaller group was heading back toward the ring to the Thor system.
I pointed to the smaller group. “Where are these guys going?”
“They appear to be going back to the Thor system. That force is made up entirely of the Lobster troop ships.”
I frowned. “Why did they do that?” I asked.
“I hope the Macros didn’t order them back,” Jasmine said to me quietly. “I hope the Macros aren’t expecting to fly to Helios right now and pick up their contingent of Worm marines.”
I looked at her with widening eyes. “I haven’t even told the Worms about that deal yet.”
She shook her head slowly.
I contacted Marvin immediately. “Marvin, can you get through to the Worms somehow? Do we have any ships that could relay a message through the Helios ring?”
“I’ll have to check with traffic control…negative. The nearest friendly ship is about six hours away. You ordered the fleet to pull back to defensive positions around Hel and the populated planets.”
“I know what I did,” I snapped.
“Sir?” Jasmine asked, pulling her headset to one side to speak to me. She had that urgent, worried look on her face that I’d come to recognize.
“What is it now?”
“The Crustacean transports are decelerating heavily, Colonel.”
“Yeah, so? They’re about to go through the ring back to their home system.”
“But they know there are no mines in the region to worry about. I just thought it was strange.”
“Let’s stick to the more serious issues. The Macros are about an hour away from the Helios ring, they’ve dumped their Lobster troops and it appears they expect the Worm troops to be ready to go instantly. We can’t even get through to the Worms to tell them about my little fib.”
“The question then,” she said, “is do we contact the Macros and tell them they aren’t ready yet?”
I glared at the system-wide map. The Macros looked like a giant school of red fish, heading toward one of the two exits. I’d learned today that the one thing a swimmer wants to see is the tail end of the shark as it swims away to hunt someone else.
“No,” I said, “it’s an unpleasant situation, but we have to look after our own first. If we can get these damned ships out of our system for just a few days, we can breathe. We’ll send a ship to the ring, transmit an update of the situation to the Worms and then try to help use diplomacy to get them out of the situation.”
“Fine, sir. But I’m still worried. What is that fleet going to do? They’re on their way to Earth, you know. Where else would they be going?”
“Maybe they want to find out what happened to their bases around Bellatrix.”
“Crow destroyed them.”
I nodded. “Yeah, they might not be too happy about that. But let’s hope the Imperial fleet can stop them.”
Jasmine frowned at me reproachfully. “If they can’t, Earth is doomed. We have to warn the Worms, Kyle, and we have to warn Earth!”
“Do we have to do everything? Can’t we rely on these self-styled Imperials to defeat a fleet on their own?”
“They managed it in the blue giant system. But that was an isolated mining colony. This fleet is monstrous. We dodged them because you were worried we couldn’t win.”
I thought about it, and she was of course correct. “What you’re saying is that sooner or later, someone is going to have to destroy this Macro armada.”
She nodded.
“We’ll move,” I said, “as soon as this armada has slid past our borders. We will.”
I took the next hour or so to think about my options. The enemy fleet began a long, drawn-out exit through the ring, transporting themselves into the system of the hapless Worms. When about half of them had wriggled through the ring into Worm space, I thought I’d come up with at least a partial solution. I contacted Marvin and summoned him to the command deck.
“Marvin, I need you to connect me to the Earth fleet via the rings. According to our calculations, they’re in the Alpha Centauri system now. They may not see the Macro fleet which is following them home to Earth. Can you use what we’ve learned of their ring transmission to contact them from here?”
“Yes and no, sir,” Marvin said. “If you’re asking if I can perfectly duplicate their code, then no. I’m only about eight-five percent fluent in their secret transmission protocols. I’ve been distracted by—”
“Not necessary,” I interrupted. “I don’t even want you to use their encoding scheme. Just transmit on an open channel to the Earth fleet.”
“I can try, sir.”
A few minutes later, Marvin worked with his arcane equipment. It was a tangled mess of brainboxes linked to a miniature version of the ring he was targeting to receive the message. Anyone in that system that was measuring the sympathetic vibrations of the ring would pick it up.
“Connection made, sir,” he announced.
I talked my way past a few operators, and quickly convinced them I wasn’t another Earth ship playing around on military equipment. They finally passed me up to Kerr himself.
“Riggs? Is that you?”
“Yes, General.”
“Not surprised. I was wondering when you’d figure out our little secret.”
“This isn’t a social call, General.”
“It never is with you. What do you want?”
“I want Earth to survive the next week. To that end, you must prepare for a massive assault, which will come through the Alpha Centauri ring into the Solar System in…we estimate six days, General. Maybe less.”
There was a minute or so of quiet after that. I was about to request an acknowledgement, when Kerr came back on the line. I did like the faster response time while using the ring communications systems. It was difficult to use just radio transmissions, which moved at the grossly inadequate speed of light. Conversations across space using such antiquated means took hours or even days to complete. Using the ring system and their sympathetic resonance, we were able to converse as if we were on a phone line across a thousand light years.
“To what do I owe the honor of a massive Macro assault on our beloved homeworld, Riggs?” asked Kerr. His voice rose in volume and pitch with every syllable.
I cleared my throat. “We might have had something to do with that, sir. We talked the Macros into not attacking us. But as a result, they’ve decided to seek their fortunes elsewhere. It’s our estimation that they’re heading toward Bellatrix and they plan to find out what happened to their mining colony there.”
“Bellatrix? We wiped that out. It’s Imperial space now.”
“You know that and I know that, sir,” I said. “But I’m not sure the Macros do. In any case, there is bound to be a fight when they hit your border. Looking at the situation strategically, I would suggest you utilize your fortifications at the entrance to the Solar System to the fullest. Fight it out right there at the border. What did you call your defenses there? Overkill? I truly hope for your sake you weren’t bluffing, General.”
Kerr yelled at me for a while after that. I didn’t blame him. To his mind, we were the ones who were supposed to stand and fight to the last, hopefully eliminating the robots and ourselves in the process. But, instead of dashing our brains against one another, Kerr had just learned his enemies had come to a peaceful accord. Now, the Macros had turned their attention to Earth itself, and their mining colony. We both knew there wasn’t going t
o be any way they could talk the Macros out of paying them a visit now. Even if they could buy them off in some way, when they saw what had happened to the mining system and found all those Earth ships and destroyed Macro hulks, they were going to start shooting.
At the end of the conversation, I tried to be magnanimous. “If you make a formal request General, I’ll send along an expeditionary to support you. We’ll stand in solidarity with Earth on this one.”
Kerr sent me one last message before the channel was suddenly closed: “Thanks for the warning, you dick.”
-37-
The Macros had sailed serenely through the Eden system and now the last of them were lazily exiting out the far side. I stayed near the Hel ring with a small contingent of ships assigned to watch over the battle station and the entrance to the Thor system. Most of my ships I sent after the Macros, with orders to travel around the system in their wake. If they did declare war for some reason, I wanted my ships to be ready to strike. Even if they couldn’t win, they might be able to defend the civilians who huddled on many of the planets in the system, watching the skies with wide, fearful eyes.
Over the last few days, we’d averted disaster a half-dozen times. It’s not easy to stand-down defensive systems that span an entire star system, especially when they maintain a hair-trigger alert status. It seemed as if a dozen different attempts were made by blundering parties to blow the ceasefire into oblivion—and all of us with it.
The Centaur charge had only been the beginning of treaty-breaking events. As the Macros cruised around each planet, they triggered automated stations with excitable brainboxes. Weapons had locked themselves on, itching to fire. In some cases, they did fire, such as the full barrage of missiles from the Centaur-controlled satellites over Eden-9. We managed to destroy them all before the Macros were damaged, but it had been a close thing.
Another near-calamity came at the last moment as the last of the Macros were leaving the system. At this time, the Crustacean transports were approaching the Thor ring. They were traveling very slowly, and cruising along very close to our battle station.
“What the hell are they doing?” Sandra demanded as we all stared at the command console.
I was wondering the same thing. “I don’t know,” I said, “but if they linger until after the last Macro ship is gone, I’ll be tempted to order Welter to blow them up.”
“You should do it, Kyle,” Sandra said. “They’re probably taking a million pictures and readings. They want to know every secret about our station, so they can come back later and destroy it.”
I nodded and stared at the screen. “You could be right.”
“They’re changing course sir—and accelerating,” Captain Sarin said.
“Good. It’s about time they finished their little sightseeing tour.”
“No sir, they aren’t heading for the ring.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. On the screen between us all, the computers were updating the situation. As they were huge cylindrical ships, Crustacean transports looked like tiny yellow tin cans. They were obviously Macro-built, or the design had been borrowed from the Macros. What mattered right now, however, was their course and speed. The predictive dashed lines now converged—on my battle station.
“Can that be right?” I demanded. “Marvin, are you monitoring the Crustacean ships? Is there increased chatter?”
“Definitely, sir. They’re in tight communication with one another.”
As I watched, the dashed lines went from yellow to red. Then the canister-shaped ships themselves were updated with bright, blinking red. Even the computer knew it, and it was time that I caught up with the programming.
“They’re attacking,” I said.
“Attacking?” Miklos asked. “How can they attack us with just a bunch of transports? We’ll blow them out of space.”
“Check the acceleration patterns. I bet if we zoom in, we’ll see their ports opening. They’ll release their assault troops when they are less than a thousand miles out. Have they fired a shot at us yet?”
“No sir, nothing.”
“How long until the last Macro ship exits the system?”
“About four minutes, sir.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “They’ll time it down to the second. When the last Macro exits through the Helios ring, they’ll hit us with everything they have. Their marines will be climbing all over the battle station’s outer hull, drilling their way in.”
“How can they have assault troops with those abilities? And how can you be sure they’ve come up with such a tight plan?”
“Because we have those troops, and they’ve been copying our tactics. They’ll attack at precisely the right moment, because that’s what I would do. They’ve been copying my maneuvers as well. Worst of all, they’ve been listening to our little chats with the Macros. They know about our bullshit alliance.”
“Sir? Commander Welter is requesting a channel. He says it’s urgent.”
“Indeed it is. Patch him through.”
“Colonel Riggs, I formally request a change or at least an exception to our rules of engagement. Allow me to fire upon those damned treacherous Lobsters.”
“I’ll grant that request in exactly three minutes, Commander.”
We waited a few seconds, hearing only dead air. Then Welter was back on the line. “Sir, that’ll be too late. They’ll be inside the range of ninety-percent of my weaponry by then. Hell, most of them will be crawling on the outside of my armored hull by then.”
“I know that, Welter. But if we fire too early, we’ll break our deal with the Macro fleet. They’ll reverse course and wipe out every human in this system. We’re going to have to deal with the Lobster troops after they reach your battle station. I’m coming, but you’ll have to hold until the cavalry arrives. Riggs out.”
I turned to my staff. Everyone looked worried or stunned—or both.
“Do you think the Macros ordered them to do this, Colonel?” Jasmine asked me. “They’ve done this kind of thing before. They like to have their slaves do their dirty work for them.”
“Possibly,” I said, “however, it doesn’t really matter right now. We’re in a fight people. What assets can we bring into orbit around Hel within the next hour?”
Sarin worked the console. No one even tried to beat her, we all just waited as she did the calculus and threw up displays with the answers.
“Just this task force, sir,” she said. “We had most of the gunships following the Macros around in case there was trouble. Most of the transports were doing the same. The rest of the fleet is scattered in defensive positions at each inhabited world.”
“Where’s Major Sloan?” I asked. “He should be leading the assault troops.”
“He’s not here, sir. He’s with the majority of the troop ships and the core of the gunships—out at the Helios ring.”
I nodded, unsurprised. Sloan was a master at being elsewhere when a fight erupted. “All right, give me a breakdown of the forces we have within reach, and tell me what Welter has aboard for a garrison.”
The complement of troops on the battle station had been greatly increased since the initial battle we’d fought aboard her. There were over four hundred marines, crewmen and even some civilian craftsmen who’d gone out there to repair the weapons systems. I frowned as I thought about those poor bastards. They’d run from Earth to escape tyranny, and now they were going to find themselves cut off in space with thousands of alien troops crawling over the hull of the station. I’d let them all down—these Lobsters were tricky. They had something going for them the Macros didn’t seem to have: the ability to learn from their mistakes and quickly adapt. I told myself not to underestimate them again.
In this region of space, I had my destroyer, a squadron of gunships and two Nano ships. That was a pretty small force, but more than enough to destroy the transports. The real problem would be destroying the assault troops. If the Lobsters got into the station and took it with their initial as
sault, then we would have a real problem—we’d have to take the station back.
“The most important assets we have in the area now are the transports. How many troops do I have?”
“I’ll contact the ships for confirmation on that, sir,” Sarin said.
A moment later, a familiar voice came on the line. “First Sergeant Kwon reporting, Colonel.”
“Kwon?” I asked, frowning. “You’re out here with those transports? I thought I ordered you to accompany Sloan and the majority of the assault troops.”
“I must have gotten that wrong sir. Very sorry.”
I frowned at the screen. I felt like yelling at him for slipping his orders, but it wouldn’t do any good right now…and I had to admit, I needed him.
“Kwon,” I asked, “just tell me one thing: Why do you always seem to follow me around?”
“Well sir…” he began, then hesitated.
“What? Out with it, man. I won’t reprimand you this time.”
“Sir…the truth is you always get into the best fights. I love a good fight, Colonel.”
I had to work not to laugh. I scowled at the boards and made a growling sound instead. After all, everyone was watching. It wouldn’t do to give insubordination a pass—especially not when there were witnesses. “I think you’re going to get your wish this time, First Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir!”
The battle started about five seconds after the last Macro glided peacefully through the ring and vanished. On cue, everyone began firing at once.
We were jamming both the rings by this time, to make sure the Lobsters couldn’t call foul and transmit claims about us attacking them and breaking the treaty. I could imagine they’d wanted nothing more than to provoke us into an early attack. Maybe that had been the big point of the assault. In the end, it didn’t matter what their plans had been. Like two school boys waiting for the principal to step out of sight, we lunged at each other the first moment we could.
Welter ordered every railgun and laser to fire at point-blank range. The assaulting transports blew up in rapid succession. They flared into plasma, vapor and wreckage on our screens, then vanished entirely. But that was a small victory, because there were already about five thousand Crustacean troops crawling over the rocky armored exterior of the battle station. They’d taken the wise option of exiting their ships and flying to land on the surface of the battle station at the last possible moment.
