“That could have been worse,” COB Timmons said as Absen listened to his report. “Three more casualties due to one lucky hit that dropped straight through a laser port and made it all the way to the control room. All the forward weapons and armor is gone, but Conquest says two days and we’ll have the main array and half the lasers back in operation.”
“Two days? That’s remarkable.”
Timmons nodded. “That AI is a wonder, sure. Manufactories are going at full speed. I’ve taken the liberty of requesting the Marines help out. With their armor and cybernetics, they are doubling as labor for the surface repair, bolting on new clamshells so that the finer work can be done later under atmosphere. Also, I have them carrying materials in low G from the bulk storage to the assembly lines. But we’re running low on some things.”
“Sensors,” Absen asked Scoggins, “how long until those Destroyers arrive?”
“They’re launching hypers as fast as they can make them, all the way from Jupiter,” she replied. “Those will get here in about four hours, and they’ll hit hard at over half lightspeed. The ships will take three days.”
Absen shook his head. “We won’t be here. Well before those arrive, I want to pulse out. Two pulses, actually, that will zigzag us to the other side of the sun from the Destroyers, and then drop us near the asteroid belt.”
“They’ll still find us, sir. There are thousands of stealthed sentries all over. One of them is bound to see and pass our position.”
“I don’t mind,” Absen replied. “In fact, I’m counting on it. I want them chasing us, burning fuel and wasting time while we make repairs.”
“Funny, sir,” Johnstone spoke up. “We’ve become more like them. Conquest is now a sort of living ship, able to heal and stay on long range patrol indefinitely.”
Absen smiled indulgently. “If you had a deeper military background, Rick, you’d know that the ebb and flow of warfare always drives a sort of directed evolution, of tactics and technologies. Each combatant selects the best of what the enemy has used against them and replicates, improves it, while also trying to innovate. No, no, I’m not criticizing. You’re the best at your job, and it was an astute observation, for someone not well versed in history.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We can pulse any time now,” Okuda said.
“Then let’s get everything secured for TacDrive and go before those hypers show up.”
***
Conquest lumbered forward under careful grabship control. The little tugs grasped the rim of the flattened teardrop like dragonflies, providing the dreadnought with fine mobility in the absence of the gimbaled thrusters blasted away by the hyper strike. It was backing now, as clumsy as a seagoing supertanker in a confined port of call.
On the bridge screen, Absen stood and watched the holotank representation as his boat aligned the opening in her rear armor with another potato-shaped asteroid. More grabships on the rock kept it steady, and between the two teams, the lump of minerals slid slowly into a cargo bay.
“That makes eight,” Timmons reported. “Six high-metal rocks and two iceballs. Should be enough to replenish the raw materials.”
“Seal up, then. Even though we’re pretty safe out here, I don’t like having that huge opening in the armor. Get those things broken up and stowed for processing.”
“Aye aye, sir.” Timmons did nothing but acknowledge his boss’s order, not even touching his console, just drinking his coffee. Because he disliked linking just as much as Absen did, the captain took this to mean the COB was ahead of him, and had already given the necessary instructions to his section chiefs and repair teams.
“How long?”
Timmons checked the watch on his wrist, an old-fashioned gesture that often gave away those born in the twentieth century. “Two hours, more or less.”
“Plenty of time. Any change in the Destroyer fleet?”
“No, sir. Still parked at Earth, within the Weapon envelope.”
“Damn. Clever bastards.” Like naval warships sheltering beneath the guns of a land-based fortress, the Destroyers, instead of chasing Conquest as he had hoped, had taken up a position near the moon. Now, if he made a pulse run at them, he would have to come within range of that ship-killer. “Thoughts?”
With the prime watch just returned from their rest period, Absen looked around the bridge as his crew turned toward the center. With Timmons on his left, Michelle Conquest on his right, Okuda in his sunken cockpit, and the rest along the circular walls, the captain felt at home, and waited for the team to express their opinions.
“Stay here until we are one hundred percent,” Ford began the brainstorming. “We have to be at full strength before we go in to battle.”
“I concur,” Doc Horton said from BioMed. Bogrin was absent from his position, though none there but Absen knew where he had gone. “The crew is working at capacity on these repairs. They will need some rest or they’ll start making mistakes. More mistakes.”
“Agreed,” the captain replied. “Unless something else comes up, we’ll stay as long as we need. How long is that?” He turned to Timmons.
Timmons glanced over at Conquest’s avatar, who said, “Two more days for the major repairs, another day for the less critical stuff, and another day for crew rest and recovery.”
“Four days, then. Fine. Make sure we keep a sharp watch. I don’t want some stealthed sentry to sneak up on us with an antimatter bomb. So what then?”
His crew glanced left and right, until Conquest spoke up. “I believe we have to go after Jupiter.”
“Explain.”
She made a throat-clearing sound, despite having no throat to clear, and Absen marveled within himself at the very human emulation that the AI displayed, even to idiomatic speech. “The enemy’s remaining ‘fleet in being’ is guarding the prize of the solar system: Earth. Its ecosystem is recovering and has an estimated population of almost one billion people. It has orbital defenses and the remaining Weapon to help secure it. As you implied, too tough a nut to crack right now. But without the Destroyers, the Jupiter system is an inviting second prize. Millions of workers, manufacturing, shipyards – and its magnetic field is the only ready source of antimatter other than Saturn. Militarily, it’s probably more important than Earth.”
“I see you’ve thought this through.”
Conquest looked around at the others and smiled. “We had our own brainstorming session in the wardroom, sir.”
Absen started in surprise. “You’re hanging around in the wardroom?”
“Why not, Skipper?” Johnstone spoke up with a wink. “Where else is a warrant officer supposed to socialize?”
“Where else indeed?” Absen stared at the avatar for a moment more, reminding himself how combat has a way of making differences seem small, driving people together and forging tight-bonded teams. It appeared that, for his prime watch at least, Michelle Conquest had made the transition from oddity to insider. “Glad to see you all taking the initiative. As it happens, I agree. Once repaired, we’re going to take over Jupiter and make it our base. With its facilities and personnel, I hope to build a force to retake Earth. Once they see what we are doing, they can sit there and defend, which with our new technology is a losing strategy, or they can counterattack to try to take or wipe out the Jupiter facilities. Either way, they will lose.”
“So we’re just going to let the slaves of Earth chafe under the yoke for however many years it takes?” Ford said, aghast.
“Very lurid, Ford. ‘Chafe under the yoke.’ The broadcasts and intel we can gather show that the populace is no worse off than in any other authoritarian regime. That’s unfortunate, but temporarily unavoidable. This boat is the only thing that can free Earth, and we’ve already seen that the Meme aren’t going to roll over and die. They’re a tough, smart enemy, and they can still surprise us. I’ll feel a lot better when we have repair facilities, supplies, and allies outside of Conquest.” Absen leaned forward. “Here’s a maxim to inscribe on your frontal lobes: strategy must drive tactics, not the other way around. Our number one strategic concern is preservation of a ‘fleet in being.’ Currently, that consists of this one boat.”
Absen let his crew digest that one for a moment. Then, Ford spoke again. “On that note, preserving this vessel...do we know whether the Jupiter system has anything like the moon laser? Anything big enough to really hurt us?”
“Excellent question. Scoggins?”
“I’ll get with Intel, sir. Fleede’s been begging for something to do.”
Absen snorted. “If I know him, he’s in heaven. Closest thing to an organic android I ever met, that man. I think he had extra hard drives installed in his brain to keep more facts at his fingertips.”
“He says he can have a briefing on the Jupiter defenses ready for you any time you like, sir,” Scoggins reported. “If I know him, he and his team have been updating what he’s got around the clock.”
“Let’s do it after shift change, at 1630. All officers and senior NCOs except those on duty. Put it in the small auditorium.”
***
Absen set his sandwich, chips and milk on the table and took his seat with five minutes to spare. That gave him just enough time to wolf some of the food down. With Lieutenant Commander Fleede, you never knew how long the briefing would go. If you let him, he could spew information for hours.
“You can get started, Fleede,” Absen said. “Just the high points, please.”
“Yes sir.” Thin and gawky, with a protruding Adam’s apple, the man seemed the quintessential intelligence officer, endlessly studying the minutiae of the enemy forces, orders of battle, weapons and tactics. Absen had learned a lot from him over the years. Details, anyway. The trick was to keep him out of the weeds.
“The Jupiter system now consists of seventy-nine moons, some of which are repositioned asteroids. The Galilean four contain major enemy bases. All of the other satellites have at least some kind of weapons cluster on them – lasers, particle beams, railguns – all direct fire weapons.”
“No missiles?”
“No, sir. It appears the Meme have reserved guided missile use for themselves, and banned all thermonuclear or antimatter warheads not under their direct control. This is consistent with what our Sekoi allies say about Meme policies. Without nuclear or larger weapons, the destructive ability of resistance movements, rebels or rogue Blends is limited.”
“Makes sense. Go on.” Absen took another bite of his sandwich.
“From in-depth studies of SIGINT, COMINT and other direct collection, we have built a picture of the military society in the Jupiter system. It is very hierarchical and regimented. Only the most trustworthy and well-vetted human slaves are sent to work there. Loyalty brings privileges, consumer goods and entertainments. Mistakes will get people sent back to Earth, and disloyalty is punished by death.”
“So they will probably put up a good defense,” Ford said.
“Yes. We have to consider that they have been living for decades under Meme rule. Most of them will have been born since the conquest. They don’t know anything else. We can’t expect them to revolt. Not without disaffected Blends, but the Sekoi don’t believe Earth has had long enough for our Blends to get bored.”
“Okay,” Absen said around a mouthful of chips. “So we’ll have to beat them militarily. But there should still be a point at which they know they’ve lost, and surrender.”
“Yes, sir. Neither Meme nor Blends are really willing to die for the Empire. We know that. Commander Bogrin thinks once our victory is mathematically certain, they will surrender. Of course, the Purelings will fight to the death.”
“So the key is to threaten the bosses. The Blends. I assume you’ve put some effort into identifying them?”
“Yes, sir.” Fleede clicked the slide show forward to display a diagram of the system. “We’ve found these major command centers – one on each large moon. However, while the unblended humans here are the most reliable, the Blends out here might not be.”
“Why is that?” Absen asked, leaning forward with interest.
“Because it’s not desirable duty. Some of the Blends might be dedicated, or militarily inclined, or seeking advancement through taking an undesirable assignment, but the Sekoi Intel team members believe that these will be few. Most Meme who accept Blending are looking for a hedonistic lifestyle, their second, more pleasurable stage of existence, as it were. For them, it’s like retiring from harsh military service. Like giving up a life of boredom and sacrifice and going to heaven – an amusement-park heaven composed of debauchery, lust for power, gluttony, drunkenness. What we would call all the worst of human traits.”
“So most of that fun is on Earth, not Jupiter system.”
“Yes, sir. The four moon bases have recreations, but they’re still pretty austere compared to Earth. The Blends here really haven’t had time to get these urges out of their system, according to our Sekoi that remember what it was like when the Meme conquered them. Takes hundreds of years before they start acting like statesmen rather than childish, spoiled, rich-kid politicians, begging your pardon, sir.”
Absen waved the apology away. “Lawyers and politicians are always fair game for jokes, Lieutenant Commander Fleede, and I’ve never wanted to be either. Carry on.”
Fleede snorted and choked his way through a laugh. Absen reminded himself not to joke again, if he wanted to keep the man on track. He waved, go on, and the intelligence officer continued.
“The bottom line is, sir, and I know you like bottom-line assessments...anyway, I believe that if those bases are neutralized, the rest will surrender. But,” Fleede waved a finger like a mad scientist, “if even one of them can continue transmitting orders, the rest will believe they have a chance.”
“Excellent summary. Do they have a Weapon?”
“A weapon, sir?”
“A Weapon with a capital ‘W,’ man. An exowatt-power laser.”
“Oh, yes, sir. It’s on Io, facing outward, and uses that moon’s volcanic heat as a power source, we believe. It also has the fastest orbit, about 1.77 standard days, so it sweeps the system the quickest.”
“But we can avoid it if we just stay out of its way.” Absen finished off his milk, wishing again for fresh instead of reconstituted. No matter the advance of technology, nothing could seem to replicate real fresh chilled milk.
“Yes, sir. Easily. Though if we land ground forces, and it takes them longer than a day or so to win, we will have to pull out our aerospace cover. Or, we could just use an Exploder on it.”
Absen’s face froze and he almost snapped at the man, remembering a long legacy of smart Intelligence people who thought because they knew so much, they should be in charge. Then he realized Fleede was, in his own awkward way, just trying to provide him with options. “So, an Exploder, or a ground attack like we did at Gliese 370, or just avoid it?”
“Ah...well, sir – Sergeant Janice, give me a close-up of Io – sir, as you can see, the laser sits very close to the command center on Io. In all likelihood they are connected by underground tunnels. We have to take the command center out eventually, so...”
“So we might as well take out the Weapon as well. Got it. Any other ways to do that other than Exploder or ground assault?”
“Our fusion missiles can be more precisely timed now, sir. A properly set up bombardment has at least an even chance of rendering it inoperative, according to our simulations.”
Absen looked around for other ideas, then realized this wasn’t the time or place for a mass brainstorming session. “All right. Ford, you’re Blue Team leader. Fleede’s your second, Conquest is the third. Pick several others, and make sure you have at least one Marine and one flier. I want you to come up with courses of action to defeat the Io laser, the four bases, and the rest of the Jupiter system, with the resources of this boat. I’ll want to see something in about forty-eight hours, and if you can spare the mental effort, start thinking about how to beat the Earth-Luna defenses as well.” He stood up, causing everyone else to stand with him.
Fleede spoke. “Ah, sir, I have a lot more detail on the Jupiter defenses...”
“You can keep briefing anyone here who wants to listen. For me, package it up in an interactive report and shoot it to my desk, all right? I’ll study it at my leisure. Ford, get to work. Anyone on the Blue Team is off the regular watch rotation.” Absen walked to the door as Tobias held it open for him, and then turned back to address his officers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve done half the job. We destroyed their two biggest ships, and the moon laser that holds Earth hostage. We forced them to pull back to defend the prize, leaving us free to attack the secondary target. Now all we have to do is seize Jupiter system as a base, free the human slaves there, and form a task force to liberate our home planet. I still have a few things up my sleeve, so don’t despair. I believe in a few short weeks, Earth will be ours again.”
***
Absen sent Tobias out of his quarters and sat in his armchair, staring at a map of the solar system on the wall screen. His last bottle of Scotch sat on the table to his right, and he sipped at the amber liquid from a highball glass of Sekoi crystal. Unbidden, doubts ran through his mind, and the press of time weighed upon his soul.
He’d once believed that the TacDrive was a magic bullet, a technology that would let him dance into the solar system untouched and snatch it from the Meme as a street urchin would steal an apple from a vendor.
Now he realized how naïve that belief had been, and his mistake had lost him good people. If he’d looked more carefully, searched for the hidden traps that fifty years of Meme rule had allowed them to lay, he might have found the second moon laser. Now Conquest had to waste effort licking her wounds, giving up that most precious of commodities: time. Time and surprise.
I’ve tried out most of my tools, he thought. My best ones, the ones I had expected. Now I’ll have to admit that Spooky was right. I am glad he and Denham are here with their weird little boat. Let’s just hope they can pull another rabbit out of the hat. And then there’s Bull and his Marines. Thank God for them and their monolithic loyalty. They’re going to be vital, because contrary to a certain unruly weapons officer, we’re not going to win with just the biggest guns.
Or even the biggest hearts and brains.
We’re going to win because have no other choice.