Rumors of Salvation (System States Rebellion Book 3)

by Dietmar Wehr

  Drake nodded to the Helm Officer and moved over to the Astrogation Station. “Put their projected destination up on the main display, please,” he said.

  “Coming up, Skipper.” Within two seconds, the main display zoomed in to the opposite side of the continent from where the colony city was. It just happened to be on the side of the planet that was still visible to Coral Sea.

  “Do we know what’s down there?” asked Drake.

  The A.O. shook his head. “Our planetary database isn’t that complete, and we’re still too far away for our optics to get a good look.”

  “Well in that case, we’ll just wait until they land and then take a close look.” Turning to look back at the Helm Officer, Drake said, “Helm, slow us down. I want those ships to get there before we do.” I hope Murphy’s on one of those ships, he thought.

  Tigershark

  Molitor watched the view from one of the ship’s external cameras as the ship descended through Midgard’s atmosphere. She was nervous, and she didn’t think it was caused by the uncertainty of the response of the Base personnel to her assumption of authority. Yeager had reaffirmed his support for her and told her his crew accepted her too, so it was unlikely that the Base personnel would reject her. No, it was something else that was bothering her, and she didn’t know what it was. It almost felt like intuition was warning her that something unexpected was about to happen. She hated moments like this. The surprise was usually a negative one.

  “Commander, I’m picking up a microwave transmission from off planet and it’s addressed to Commander Bret Murphy,” said the Com Technician. Molitor was so shocked that she was speechless for several seconds.

  “Let’s hear the message.”

  “Commander Bret Murphy, this is Roland Drake. I received the message you left on Vril for me. Please respond with video. I need to confirm your identity before this contact goes any further.”

  Molitor thought fast. “Weps, I want a radar scan of the area where the transmission originated from. Com, get ready to open a directional video channel when I give the word.”

  Coral Sea

  “They’ve started active scanning in our direction. Our ECM can handle it,” said the Detection and ECM Officer. Drake wasn’t surprised by the report. He would have done the same thing in Murphy’s place. But if Murphy really was in command down there, then Drake would expect to see and hear from him quickly. If that didn’t happen, he would seriously consider heading back out beyond the hyper-zone.

  Tigershark

  “We’re not detecting anything in that direction, Commander,” said the W.O. Molitor shook her head in confusion. How could that be? If the ship transmitting that message was so far away that her ship’s radar couldn’t see it, then how did that ship know her two ships were here or that the volcano beneath them held a Resistance Base? The tight beam microwave transmission was clearly aimed at this position intentionally. Was it possible that the Brain Trust had also figured out how flat hull configurations could deflect radar waves? Her intuition was telling her to respond by video communication and do it NOW.

  “Com, put me on video and let me know when you’re ready to transmit.”

  The Com Tech nodded and a second later pointed to her.

  Molitor took a deep breath and began speaking in what she hoped was a calm, convincing voice. “Commander Drake, I’m Rachel Molitor, Commmander of the ex-Empire cruiser Tigershark, and yes, you heard that correctly. My crew and I are no longer taking Empire orders. We’re now part of the Resistance that Bret Murphy set up, along with other former Federation personnel who are also determined to put the Empire and its rogue computer out of business. The reason why you’re seeing me instead of Commander Murphy is that he died during a joint raid between his two ships and Tigershark against Makassar. We’ve just returned from there, and as a result of Murphy’s death, I’ve now assumed leadership of the Resistance. Murphy told me about his invitation to your Brain Trust to join forces. I firmly believe that’s the only sure way that the Empire can be defeated. Please respond.”

  Coral Sea

  “…can be defeated. Please respond.” Drake didn’t like this situation at all. This was his worst fear realized. He knew Murphy from having met him in person and would have been able to tell if someone was impersonating Murphy or if he was being coerced somehow. Molitor’s plausible story sounded good, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was true. If this was a setup for an ambush, then they would have prepared a plausible explanation for not having Murphy available. On the other hand, if this was an ambush, it was a badly designed one. Molitor’s two ships were practically on the ground, while his ship was still over 5,000 kilometers above the planet. From a strictly tactical point of view, his ship had the ‘high ground’, which would have meant something if his ship was a cruiser armed with missiles. It wasn’t, but Molitor didn’t know that. And unless the Empire had their own ECM technology that could somehow defeat his Ether ripple detection system, there were no other ships within a radius of 18 million kilometers. Should he reply back or just leave? He leaned back to ponder that question.

  Tigershark

  Molitor checked the chronometer again. Almost two full minutes had passed since she sent that video message. She wondered again if Drake’s ship was so far away that a light speed lag was taking place. She had just made up her mind to send another message when the main display flickered and a man’s face appeared.

  “Commander Molitor, I’m Roland Drake. Your explanation sounds plausible, but I have to be sure this isn’t an ambush. I’m not bringing my ship any closer until I’m convinced that you’re telling me the truth. We know that you’ve tried to locate us with standard radar and found nothing. That’s due to a little trick that the Brain Trust has come up with. If you’re really ex-Empire, then keep your ships near the ground. Any attempt to gain altitude will be interpreted as a hostile act, and we’ll respond accordingly. I’m going to give you an opportunity to convince me that I shouldn’t leave. Over to you.”

  Coral Sea

  Fifty-five seconds had passed since he finished his message, and Drake was beginning to consider giving the order to head home. He was still considering it when Molitor’s image returned to the display.

  “Sorry for the delay, Commander Drake, but I’ve been trying to think of what I could say that would convince you of my sincerity. I have an idea. If I came in a shuttle with physical evidence that I’ve rejected Majestic’s Empire, would you be willing to meet with me face to face?” The image disappeared, signalling that she was finished. Drake thought about his reply and then began to speak.

  Tigershark

  Drake’s image returned to the main display much faster this time. So his ship isn’t all that far away, she thought.

  “I accept your suggestion, but on the following conditions, Commander Molitor. Your shuttle will fly to the moon and land beside the opening to the robotic mining operation. You will then get out of the shuttle and stand a few meters away from it. My shuttle will land near you, and you’ll board it. It will bring you to my ship, and we’ll have that face-to-face meeting there. If that’s not acceptable to you, then I’ll be on my way.”

  She quickly arranged for a reply. “I accept your conditions. My shuttle will take off within a few minutes. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person. Molitor clear.” When she was certain the video transmission was ended, she called the Medical Bay. “Doctor? Have that body and the implant and a copy of all your records related to them brought to the Hangar Bay right away.” With that taken care of, she gave some orders to her Bridge personnel and then headed for her quarters. If Drake wanted a face-to-face powwow with her, then the least she could do was wear a crisp, clean uniform.

  The actual shuttle flight to Midgard’s moon took just a bit less than 34 minutes. The shuttle’s contra-gravity propulsion could boost it at a constant 5Gs acceleration once it got clear of Midgard’s atmosphere. By the time it landed next to the mining operation entrance, Molitor was weari
ng a spacesuit. The fact that Drake clearly knew about this operation had surprised her. The Brain Trust had obviously been busy the past few years. Hiding a ship at close range was quite the accomplishment. She wondered what else they had up their sleeves. She checked her cargo. The body of her former C.O. was inside a hermetically sealed container that kept the internal temperature just above freezing. The implant and the related electronic medical files were inside a smaller container. As the shuttle touched down, she checked with the flight deck. There was still no sign of any other spacecraft. With a shrug, she donned her helmet and headed for the shuttle’s tiny airlock. Minutes later, she was standing outside about ten meters away from the shuttle, looking down at the depression in the ground that led to the mine opening. This part of the moon was now in darkness. Her helmet’s lights plus the lights from the shuttle were creating eerie shadows. As she slowly turned around, she caught sight of something moving against the background stars.

  “I see something moving in the sky at your 10 o’clock, Lieutenant,” said Molitor to the shuttle’s Pilot.

  “Got it, Commander. You have sharp eyes. Shall we try to scan it?”

  “Negative. If it’s Drake’s shuttle, then what’s the point? If it’s someone else, then I’d rather not call attention to ourselves sitting exposed like this on the moon’s surface. Remember your orders, Lieutenant. We’re here to talk, not to fight. Just stay calm and sit back.”

  “Understood. We’ll keep this com channel open at all times. Looks like that’s a shuttle coming in for a landing.”

  The Pilot was right. A shuttle, which as far as she could tell in the darkness was very similar if not identical in design to her own, was dropping down for a gentle landing. It touched down approximately 30 meters away from her. The outer door of the airlock opened. She walked over to it and climbed inside. The door immediately closed, and she could tell by the vibration through her suit that the shuttle had taken off again. To her consternation, the inner door to the airlock wasn’t opening. While there was room to turn around, the space inside the airlock wasn’t a whole lot larger than a closet, and she was glad she wasn’t claustrophobic.

  She was expecting the ride to take a while, but to her surprise, the inner door opened after about four minutes or so and standing there was Roland Drake himself. He was wearing a spacesuit but not a helmet. He gestured for her to step into the shuttle’s cabin and waited until she had taken her helmet off before speaking.

  “Welcome aboard, Commander Molitor. I kept you inside the airlock for a few minutes until we could confirm visually that it really was you and not someone else.”

  “I see. I was expecting that we would meet at your ship.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t see any point in delaying our chat longer than necessary. We’re now face to face. What did you want to say to me?”

  “Do you know that Trojan’s Majestic computer has taken control of the Empire, using implanted devices that turn human beings into its slaves?” She watched Drake’s face carefully to gauge his reaction. He didn’t even blink.

  “Yes, we’re aware of that. The implant would be attached at the back of the neck just below the skull.”

  Molitor nodded as she turned her head and pulled her hair to one side so that Drake could see the back of her neck.

  “Okay, you’ve proven to me that you’re not being coerced by Majestic’s device. That still doesn’t prove you’re really fighting the Empire,” said Drake.

  “Not by itself, no, but I brought the body of Tigershark’s former C.O. He did have the implant, and when he tried to nuke the mining operation on the moon, after talking about nuking civilians, I forcibly removed him from command. We tried to take the implant off him, but it killed him before we could remove it. I can show you his body, including the gaping wound where the implant was, the implant itself and the medical records showing how the device controlled his brain. That device was installed just before we left Hadley. From the description that others have given me of his expression after returning to the ship from an impromptu visit to Majestic’s complex, I’m convinced that he didn’t agree to let that device be implanted. I think it was done against his will, and I was afraid that I’d be next, so I found and contacted Bret Murphy and joined the Resistance.”

  Drake decided that he believed her. Not only did the story ring true in terms of being plausible, but he couldn’t detect any sign that she was lying. She had kept eye contact with him, and she seemed relaxed.

  “It’s a convincing story, but I’ll want to see the body, the implant and the medical files. I’ll order this shuttle to head back to the moon. When we get there, I’ll accompany you back to your shuttle, along with a couple of my people just to be on the safe side. If everything checks out, then my people will pilot your shuttle back to my ship, and we can then talk more comfortably. If that’s okay with you.”

  “Absolutely okay, Commander.”

  Drake smiled. “Good. Lieutenant Tanaka, take us back to the mine site,” said Drake to the shuttle’s Pilot by intercom.

  Ten minutes later, Drake was standing in Molitor’s shuttle, flanked by two of his junior officers. He was looking at the near-frozen body of a naked man who was lying face down. The wound at the back of his neck was in just the right spot and was about the right size for one of Majestic’s implants. He bent down to get a better look at the left side of the man’s face. There was dried blood on the nose that had obviously come from the left eye. Blood had also seeped from the left ear as well. As he stood back up, Molitor held out a small metal box with the lid open. Inside was a metal object that resembled the schematics his own Majestic computer had designed. He was tempted to pick it up and look at it from all angles, but an irrational fear suddenly welled up and he changed his mind. She then handed him a data tablet that showed the delicate wires in the dead man’s brain. Drake was shocked at how many of them there were and how deep into the brain they went. He scrolled through other medical files and a short video of what happened when the doctors tried to remove the device. The resulting agony on the man’s face before he died sent a shiver up Drake’s spine. He handed the tablet back to her.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “I’m convinced. After seeing this, I think I need a stiff drink, and we definitely need to talk. If you tell your flight crew that my boys can take the controls, we’ll be back on my ship in less than ten minutes.” He was a little relieved when she nodded without any hesitation whatsoever. She and Drake kept their conversation to a minimum on the way back to his ship. Molitor guessed that Drake needed time to collect his thoughts and ponder his next move. She did too. This just might be the most important meeting of the whole goddamn war.

  Chapter Nine

  Day 276/2554

  Earth

  Dr. Munenori Tanaka woke with a start at the sound of his bedroom door being torn off its hinges. He looked in shock as black-clad, armed men stormed into the room.

  “Who are—“ Before he could finish his sentence, two of the intruders rushed over to his bed and flipped him onto his stomach. He was surprised at how strong they were! “Wait! What—“ He stopped talking when he felt them effortlessly rip his shirt off and then push his head down into the pillow. My God, they’re trying to suffocate me! He tried to get free, but his arms were pinned down as firmly as if there were elephants sitting on them. Even as his fear surged and panic threatened to overwhelm him, a part of his mind remained calm enough to wonder why someone wanted to kill Earth’s pre-eminent expert on infectious diseases. The sudden excruciating pain at the back of his neck put a stop to any further thoughts.

  Nagumo had insisted on being present when General Masterson and Admiral Chenko were brought to the Empire Fleet Flagship’s Medical Bay for implantation. Masterson resisted the most strenuously. Chenko seemed resigned to his fate. When the procedures were complete and both men had recovered from the pain enough to stand up and walk, they were led to a conference room where Nagumo was waiting.

  “What in God’s na
me have you done to us?” shouted Masterson, wincing when he finished his sentence.

  “The resurging pain will continue unless you get your outrage under control, General. This is Majestic’s way of expanding its influence. The device in each of your necks will monitor your actions, emotions and autonomic responses. It will also deliver instructions that it deems appropriate to whatever situation you’re in. For example, Majestic needs to know what covert or overt anti-Empire projects have been started since the Empire was declared. If you know of any such projects and try to lie about it, your implants will detect the evasion and respond accordingly. You first, General.”

  Before Masterson could ever utter a sound, he gasped in pain.

  “It’s no use, Frank. We can’t beat this. Tell ‘em about Midgard before you have a heart attack,” said Chenko in a voice heavy with resignation.