Ash from the volcanos began to be a problem, and they’d had to stop moving rubble to erect a temporary airlock over the entrance. Considering how cold it was getting on the surface, they'd have needed to do something anyway, but Tebrey was irritated with the delays. He could feel his body failing him. Half the bio-sensors throughout his body were flashing warnings to him.
Hunter met them at the end of the tunnel, where he had been waiting. He rushed to check out Tebrey when they broke through and immediately began pushing him out toward the shuttles.
"I guess he knows best, Tebrey," Smith said with a laugh.
"I’m sorry I can’t help more," Tebrey replied. "I’m not in very good shape, though."
"Get up to the ship. I’ll keep you apprised of what's going on down here."
"Thank you, Smith."
Tebrey let himself be guided out of the tunnel.
What were you thinking? Hunter thought angrily. You’re half dead.
It’s not that bad.
Hunter snorted. You’re a terrible liar.
Only to you.
No, you just aren’t that good at it.
Tebrey shook his head. He was getting dizzy; there was only so much the medical suite in his suit could do to combat fatigue and injury. You’ll want to hold your breath on the surface, he thought to Hunter. I wish we had your spacesuit.
I’ll be fine.
Now who’s the bad liar?
Is there another way to get to the shuttles?
You have a point.
Several.
Chapter Five
"...in conclusion, we still don't know exactly what happened to the Warbird. It is doubtful that we ever will." Captain Hiran Singh sighed as he closed the log file. He wasn't satisfied with what it contained, and he was certain that his superiors would be even less happy with it.
Six days had passed since the disaster at Serendipity. His crew was exhausted. There had been so much to do in those first frantic days. They had managed to dig out the tunnel to Newhavensport. At least the temperatures on the planet kept down the risk of disease from the thousands of bodies they had found. Civilian casualties were estimated to be upward of three hundred thousand in that city alone, and the numbers were still climbing. For now, they were dragging the bodies out to the surface, where the temperature had fallen to fifty below.
Singh had trouble holding the numbers of casualties in his mind. It was too big to be real. It helps, he reflected, that I haven't seen it with my own eyes. It was one of the few times he'd been happy that regulations forbade him from leaving the ship during a crisis. He didn't want to see that kind of carnage in person.
The planet was undergoing global changes. It would be decades before the effects of the hyperspacial shockwave on the planet were fully understood. The worst effect in the short term was the awakening of hundreds of previously dormant volcanoes. Ash and dust in the atmosphere were going to send the already low temperatures plummeting even lower. The fate of the remaining citizens on the planet was in question. Some of the specialists were saying that the entire planet might have to be evacuated. Singh couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would be like.
There was now a small flotilla of ships in orbit around Serendipity. The civilian ships Roberta Macintyre and Shively had arrived the day before from New Kalieph to render what aid they could. Each of the ships had taken a different city to aid. The Federation battle cruiser Montreal had arrived only that morning, although the captain of the Montreal was more concerned with possible threats from the Wolf Empire than with rendering assistance to the rescue effort.
And then there was the Special Operations team they had rescued from the surface. Singh hadn't had time to speak with the man yet, but the report from Lt. Commander Smith had been interesting, to say the least. Smith had found the ruins of the Wolf Empire base, but there hadn’t been any survivors to question.
Captain Singh had scheduled time to speak with Tebrey in Medical. He really wasn't looking forward to it. He didn't need any more headaches.
Hrothgar Tebrey began to rise from his bed in Medical when the captain entered the room.
"At ease, Commander," Singh said, studying the man. The Special Operations officer looked younger than Singh had expected. He had read the man's file days before, but the picture there had been taken just after his graduation from officers' training school. Tebrey's appearance hadn't changed much in his twelve years of service. Only his eyes betrayed his age. Singh also discreetly looked at the man's companion. The huge neo-panther was lying on a pallet next to the bed, medical nanotech packages attached to his right front leg and side.
"What can I do for you, Captain?" Tebrey asked politely.
"That remains to be seen, Commander," Singh replied. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance with the initial relief efforts and let you know that we have received word of four more ships being diverted here to give additional aid."
"That's excellent news, Captain, but I suspect you didn't come all the way down here just to tell me that in person."
Singh smiled. "No, Commander, not just for that. We haven't had a chance to talk since you came aboard. Lt. Commander Smith indicated that you might have a somewhat unusual perspective on the loss of the Warbird. Would you care to share it with me?"
"Before I begin, Captain, I should tell you that I was given sealed orders by Fleet Admiral Kasimira Meleeka before I left Armstrong Station at Luna."
Singh narrowed his eyes as he looked at the young man. "Admiral Meleeka isn't part of any direct chain of command, yours or mine," Singh replied. He was beginning to have some misgivings about talking to Tebrey. Sometimes it was better not to know too much. "She is in charge of Fleet Internal Security."
"Yes, sir. Nevertheless, she issued me orders. I don't doubt that those orders would hold up in tribunal. Perhaps it would be better if we continued this conversation in your office, under more secure conditions."
"Very well, Commander. If you feel we must." Captain Singh waited for Tebrey to carefully get out of bed, and then led him to his office. He was surprised to see the man on his feet. He knew from the reports that Tebrey had sustained severe internal injuries and multiple broken bones.
They said little to one another until the security light came on over the door to the captain's office, indicating that the anti-snooping gear was working properly.
"Have a seat. Now, what is this all about?"
Tebrey gingerly settled himself into the chair in front of the desk before speaking. Singh could tell that Tebrey was still quite sore from the injuries he had sustained in the blast. "You should know that the orders are such that anyone made aware of them is also subject to them," Tebrey said.
Singh raised an eyebrow. "That sounds rather seditious, Commander."
"You are not far from the truth, Captain. You may be aware that some of our ships are going missing or being destroyed in mysterious ways."
"I think I am all too aware of that, Commander, especially given the loss of the Warbird."
"The cold, hard truth of it, sir, is that we are at war, and we are losing. We face an enemy that can strike anywhere it chooses, anytime it chooses. We've even lost ships in hyperspace."
"I heard the rumors. However, we have always lost ships in hyperspace. It doesn't mean that some malevolent force is involved. Hyperspace isn't exactly a safe method of travel."
"Ships have been attacked while in hyperspace, Captain."
"As I understand it," Singh said slowly, "that is impossible."
"Be that as it may, Captain, it is happening. I was aboard one such ship, the Kirov. There were very few survivors, sir."
"I heard something about that. As I recollect, it was reported as a void shield failure during transition from hyperspace."
"That was a cover story, sir. Can you think of any way in which a ship could lose its void shield during a hyperspace translation and not be completely destroyed by the stresses?"
Singh had to admit that the cover story wa
s thin. "So you're saying there is some kind of conspiracy here in the Fleet?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying. My orders from the admiral make that clear, sir. They include documentation of these attacks."
"It seems that you were already convinced, Commander. Why would the admiral need to include documentation?"
"So that I could convince captains whom I felt were trustworthy of what was really going on, sir."
"Trustworthy?"
"Yes, sir. The admiral feels that the Fleet has been infiltrated."
"Infiltrated? You mean by aliens? I would think that would be difficult, Commander."
"Yes, you would think so. However, these aliens seem to be able to assume multiple forms, and they can be very... unpleasant. To tell the truth, we don’t know anything conclusively, but there is a lot of compelling evidence. The admiral is just trying to be careful."
"If you are so worried about trust and security, why are you telling me this?"
"I have little choice but to trust you, Captain. On my own, I am capable of little. Besides, you have to aware of what I can do as an operative for Special Operations. I feel that I can trust you."
"I suppose that I should look at these orders, Commander, but I must warn you that if I feel this material is treasonous, I will have to report all of this to Fleet Command. There is something wrong with all these secret orders and rumors of hidden aliens."
"I understand that. You will have to do as your conscience demands, sir." Tebrey transmitted the data from his neural computer over to the captain's desk. "Just as I will," he said.
Captain Singh looked up from his screens at that. There was an implied threat in the man’s comment. He noted the calm confidence and nodded slowly. From what the captain knew of Special Operations personnel, the man could probably kill most of the crew of the ship single-handedly if his orders required him to. Singh had no doubt Tebrey could kill him, personally, with or without weapons.
Chapter Six
Fleet Admiral Kasimira Meleeka hadn't slept in three days.
She was a tall woman well into her tenth decade, but the expensive antigerone techniques had left her looking an ageless forty. Today her grey eyes were red with fatigue, and she felt every bit her age. The attack on and subsequent loss of the Warbird had hit a little too close to home. It had been one of the few ships she knew was completely loyal. As director of Internal Security for the Earth Federation Fleet, she found herself in the unenviable position of no longer knowing whom to trust. Reports of alien attacks were numerous, but the details were scarce. There was damning evidence that even the Admiralty itself had been infiltrated by something.
She wasn't ready yet to admit what she thought that something was.
Her best sources indicated that the alien entities could – through some unknown mechanism – assume the guise of humans, and that was one of the primary reasons she was having trouble sleeping. How could she fight an enemy that could look like anyone in the Fleet? How could she trust anyone? Add to that the ability to read her mind, and the odds of the Earth Federation winning against such a foe were virtually nil.
Not that that would stop her from trying to save the Federation if she could.
Admiral Meleeka nodded to the marine guards as she entered the meeting room. They, at least, seemed normal. Not that it would do her much good if her enemies in the room decided to move against her and the others. She'd read too many of the reports to think that two marines would be able to stop one of the aliens entities, not if just one of them could kill an entire ship's crew as happened aboard the Kirov.
She really needed a name to hang on the enemy. She was tempted to use the term young Hrothgar had assigned them. It was certainly distinct enough, but there was something about giving them a name that she shied from. It made them a little too real.
The meeting room wasn't large by the current military standards, six meters on a side with the three-meter ceiling that was typical of pre-artificial gravity construction on Luna. It did have the benefit of being buried three kilometers under the surface and therefore theoretically safe from spying or the most vigorous bombardment. She took her seat at the octagonal table and graciously accepted the glass of water the orderly poured for her. She needed to collect her wits and concentrate. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not at this stage of the game.
Pleasantries were exchanged as the other admirals took their seats. Admiral Meleeka kept a surreptitious eye on Admiral Pyotr Kazakov. He had recently been going against established protocol and bringing an 'advisor' with him to the meetings. He had refused to give any information about what agency, if any, this advisor belonged to. If Kazakov hadn't been the most senior officer present, he wouldn't have been able to get away with it.
Kazakov wasn't the only admiral who was acting strangely, either.
The war with the Nurgg wasn’t even over yet, and there was already talk of going to war with both the Wolf Empire and the Sentient Concord. So far, she had been the voice of reason at the meetings. But she could only sway the vote of the Admiralty by so much. She wanted to warn them of the alien menace, but she was painfully aware of the eyes of Kazakov's advisor on her.
What troubled Admiral Meleeka the most was that she could never quite remember afterward what the advisor looked like.
Jennifer Patterson was nervous about having so many of her people gathered together in one place, but Cassandra, the overall leader of the resistance, had insisted that the meeting would be all or nothing. It was time to put all her cards on the table, and she was all-in.
"I’m going to be straight about this," John Cook started. He was a leader of the local militia; having him and his forces join them would be a huge achievement. "The time of the Earth Federation is past. We can no longer sit back and allow a corrupt government to dictate how we live. This is our time!"
There were a few half-hearted cheers.
"I hope you're not talking about succession," Jennifer said loudly.
"I'm not one of the crazies, Patterson," Cook replied. "I'm just saying that we should have the same rights as any other Federation planet."
That brought a round of affirmations and angry growls from the assembled crowd.
Atlonglast had been one of the first worlds overrun by the Nurgg a decade before. Jennifer had just been a girl then, but she'd joined the resistance after her parents and brother had been butchered in front of her. Back then, it had been the dream of everyone on the planet that the Federation would come and save them from the aliens.
But the cure had been almost as bad as the disease. The Federation had come, and the aliens had been driven back, but Atlonglast was too important strategically to allow it any measure of independence. Martial law had been imposed during the fight against the Nurgg; it had never been lifted.
At first, it hadn't been too bad. Everyone was just happy that the Nurgg were gone. Then the Federation began forced labor conscription. The GL 877 system was rich in mineral resources, and the Federation forced them to build massive smelters in orbit and set about reducing the asteroid belt for the war effort. Civilians were drafted into working the shipyards and refineries with little in the way of compensation.
It was all done under the auspices of emergency acts in wartime. Jennifer just wanted the planet to stop being exploited. She didn't want to completely leave the Federation. Who would keep the aliens a bay if they did that?
Cassandra cleared her throat.
It was funny how, when Cassandra spoke, everyone paid attention. She was an unassuming-looking woman, but she had a commanding presence. Some of the resistance frankly worshiped her. Jennifer didn't get it, herself. She didn't like Cassandra; there was something about her that gave Jennifer the creeps.
"I think it is time to consider that we may need to be more aggressive in asserting ourselves," Cassandra said. Her voice was deeper than normal for a woman. Jennifer felt cold chills appear on her arms.
"I hope by aggressive, you mean simply more active," D
eegan spoke up. "I thought yours was a peaceful movement."
Deegan was a newcomer to the resistance, but a welcome one. He and his people had helped Jennifer rescue a couple of her people who had gotten arrested. He had no love for the Federation.
"What right do you have to speak here?" Cassandra asked. Jennifer wanted to hide under a chair. She almost felt ill. It was always like this when someone crossed Cassandra. Not that many people did.
Deegan shrugged. He had a presence, too, but his was comforting. "We've been helpful to your cause, I think. You get aggressive, and the Federation is going to hit back hard. I've seen this sort of thing before. Violence isn't the answer."
"Speak for yourself, freak." This, from one of Deegan's people. The man called himself the Corporal, although Jennifer had never seen any evidence that he had ever served with a military. He was too outspoken and not very disciplined. He stood up now. He was about the same height as Deegan, and thicker, but Deegan still seemed more solid. "You don't speak for me. I say we fight back. Hit them hard. Use guerrilla warfare tactics against the oppressive bastards. We take out enough of the leaders, and they'll back off, trust me."
Jennifer felt sick. This was exactly what she was afraid of.
"Now, hold on a minute," Cook said. "I'm all for getting them to back off, but I'm not about to start shooting. You forget they have spaceships, bud? They could smash this city flat without even trying."
"You afraid to fight?" the Corporal snapped.
"I'd be happy to take you down like a rabid dog," Cook replied.
"Try it."
"Gentlemen," Cassandra interrupted. "Why do you fight?"
The Fallen Page 3
