A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons (26 page)

“I suppose you could,” Kevin said, carefully.  Inside, his thoughts were racing.  The right level of access ...?  Did Mr. Ando know what had happened to the
Supreme Flower of the Delicate Evening
?  There was no way he could ask.  “And what would Mr. Ando like in return?”

“In the event of you winning the war, Mr. Ando would appreciate it if you left his organisation strictly alone,” Sally said.  “There will be no further charge provided you allow him to continue to work in the field he loves.  If you lose the war, of course, there will be no charge.”

“Of course,” Kevin agreed, dryly.  “It wouldn't be easy drawing any money from a radioactive pile of ash.”

“No,” Sally said.  She reached into her pocket and produced a handful of datachips.  “As a gesture of good faith, these are the latest reports on the planned deployment.  I say planned because there have been delays in actually sending the starships to Varnar.  There are also other pieces of intelligence, all of which might be helpful to you.  You can have all of this, free of charge.”

Kevin thought, rapidly.  Mr. Ando certainly had good reason to want the current
status quo
to continue, if only because one side coming out ahead would make it harder for him to play both ends against the middle.  But the Tokomak wouldn’t allow him to continue his work, no matter how useful he could be.  Kevin had seen reports from societies the Tokomak controlled, where everyone knew their place and no one was allowed to try to shape their own destiny.  Mr. Ando would probably find himself hauled off to a re-education camp or simply executed if he didn't abandon his business.

And he can't abandon it
, Kevin thought. 
It’s practically his life
.

The alternative, of course, was that it was a trap.  Mr. Ando could be supplied with false information by the Tokomak and told to pass it to humanity.  The information could then lure the Solar Union into making deadly mistakes.  All hell could break loose – the war could be lost – because Kevin believed what he was given.  The prior information – the reliable information – could merely have been gravy to ensure he swallowed the false information, when the shit hit the fan. 

Intelligence work
, Kevin reminded himself.  There were times when he understood why both Steve and Mongo disdained the spooks.  They were, alarmingly often, wrong with confidence. 
There’s no way to take anything for granted
.

“It sounds like quite an offer,” he said.  “Do you believe Mr. Ando is doing the right thing?”

Sally met his eyes.  “What will the Tokomak do to Earth if they win?”

“Destroy the entire planet,” Kevin said, keeping his voice even.  “The human race will be wiped out, or reduced to handful of people like yourself.”

“Then yes, he
is
doing the right thing,” Sally said.  “But there are
hundreds
of warships coming your way.”

“So there are,” Kevin said.  He took the datachips and pocketed them, then gave her another smile.  “Can we go eat somewhere?”

“Tell me something,” Sally said.  “Did you try to seduce me so I could become one of your sources?”

Kevin hesitated, then picked his words very carefully.  “I am always interested in meeting new people, particularly ones with such interesting life stories,” he said.  “But I believe you seduced me, rather than the other way round.”

Sally coloured.  “But you were definitely available ...”

“Would you have gone to bed with just anyone,” Kevin asked, “if he happened to be human?”

“I would like to think otherwise,” Sally said.  “But being so alone here doesn't really make it easy to resist.”

“You could buy a sexbot,” Kevin said.  “I hear they can be either male or female now, with the right modifications.”

“They’re not human,” Sally said.  She shook her head.  “It's silly, you know.  I work beside creatures who are utterly indifferent to me as a person.  The Galactics think of me as a particularly well-trained dog – a doggie running errands for its master.  And yet there are times when I grow so desperate for someone who will understand me.  Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Kevin said.  He forced down a flash of guilt.  It would hardly be the first time he’d manipulated someone into betraying their masters – and besides, Sally’s master
wanted
to help the human race.  But at the same time, it still felt wrong.  Steve and Mongo would have been united in their disapproval.  “I do understand being lonely.”

He smiled at her.  “You could probably write a book, afterwards,” he added.  “A tell-all that tells all.”

“That’s terrible,” Sally said.

She looked down at the desk.  “No more lies, all right?”

“I’ll do my best,” Kevin said.  “But there are things I can't share with you.”

He sighed, inwardly.  Being able to talk to Sally openly would be helpful – more than helpful.  But it would also put her life in danger and risk the entire operation ... he’d have to speak to Julian, then get him and the team to move their location.  Perhaps even go back to Earth, if he’d been tagged.  The team would be safer without him.

“I understand,” Sally said.  She looked up at him.  “And yes, I need a drink after this.”

“There’s no percentage in shipping in alcohol,” Kevin observed.  Finding trade goods was always a problem.  In some ways, that was a blessing.  Earth wasn't important enough for the galactic traders to really start eying the Sol System with covetous eyes.  “Not to here, in any case.”

“No,” Sally agreed.  “Only three races enjoy human alcohol.  That we know about, at least.  I bet there are others.”

“You could probably find out,” Kevin said.  The SIA would want Sally – she had a great deal of experience – but so would the interstellar corporations.  “And I think you will do fine in the future.”

“If the human race survives,” Sally said.  “If.”

She stood.  “Come on,” she said.  “You owe me that drink.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

A number of paintings were stolen from the Louvre Museum, Paris, by a group called the Sons of Bonaparte.  In their statement, uploaded to the datanet along with images of the stolen paintings, the criminals assert that the paintings will not be returned until France has cleansed itself of immigrants.  The French President has stated, in response, that France will not bow down to terrorists and that the paintings will be recovered shortly.  However, outside observers question the ability of the French Government to do anything as the political paralysis enters its fifth year ...

-Solar News Network, Year 53

“Well,” Admiral Mongo Stuart said.  “That’s us told.”

“Yes, sir,” Commodore Gordon Travis agreed.  They sat together in his office, on
Freedom
.  “They’re quite determined to have us submit.”

He looked down at the datapad displaying the Tokomak ultimatum.  If it had been printed out, he calculated mentally, it would have taken over two hundred pages, mostly wasted on fluff about the glory of the Tokomak Empire and the historical inevitability of human submission.  It had taken a team of analysts two days to boil the message down to something more understandable, although Gordon felt the effort had been wasted.  All the flowery language in the universe couldn't change the fact that the message was nothing more than ‘submit or die.’

“And they don’t have their fleet in place to threaten us,” he said, slowly.  “Did they think we would surrender to their courier boat?”

“I imagine so,” Admiral Stuart said.  He looked up at the star chart.  “Is your task force ready to move?”

“Just about, sir,” Gordon assured him.  “We should have enough firepower to smash Hades and capture their supplies, then bug out the moment they send reinforcements.”

“The War Cabinet agrees,” Admiral Stuart said.  “We’re not going to surrender to mere threats, Commodore.”

Gordon nodded, relieved.  “When is their main fleet expected to arrive?”

“Around three weeks, allowing for timing problems,” Admiral Stuart said.  “They’ve already been delayed twice.”

“I see,” Gordon said.  He shook his head in disbelief.  “Shouldn't they have waited for the fleet before sending ultimatums?”

“Probably,” Admiral Stuart agreed.  “But most of the Galactics are hypnotized by the sheer number of enemy ships.  They would roll over if threatened, I suspect, instead of trying to call the Tokomak bluff.”

“We should take the offensive right into their territory,” Gordon said.  “Hit their vast fleet of ships in the reserve before they even have a chance to power up the drives, let alone assign crewmen and commanders.  We could win the war in an afternoon.”

“It was considered,” Admiral Stuart said.  “But it would be too far to send a task force, I think.  They would know we were coming and take precautions – or simply hurl the rest of their forces in this sector at Earth.  We’d be in deep trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” Gordon said.

“Besides, this way, they have to spread out their manpower to activate the ships,” Admiral Stuart added.  “Smashing unmanned ships in the reserve will force them to commit all of their manpower to active ships, which might help them to overcome their problems.”

“We shall see,” Gordon said.  “Do you want a tour of
Freedom
before we depart?”

“I don’t think the crew would appreciate having to stop their work just to honour me,” Admiral Stuart said.  “I always hated inspections when I was in the infantry.

Gordon smiled.  The Admiral hadn't forgotten what it was like to be a junior officer – or to be on the sharp end of modern war.  On the other hand, much of his experience was essentially worthless in space combat ... he sighed, then pushed the thought aside.  The Admiral had built the Solar Navy up from literally nothing, first by obtaining alien starships and then by spearheading humanity’s own shipbuilding efforts.  He deserved respect for his work.

“I understand,” he said.  He made a show of glancing at his watch.  “We will depart within the hour, sir.”

“Good,” Admiral Stuart said.  “Don’t screw up, Gordon.  Victory will give us a chance of survival, but defeat means near-complete extinction.”

“We won’t fuck up,” Gordon assured him.  He held out a hand for the Admiral to shake.  “We’ll be back before you know it.”

It wouldn’t be that simple, he knew, as the Admiral shook his hand and then departed the compartment, heading for the teleport chamber.  There was a minimum of two weeks to Hades, even using the most advanced stardrives in the galaxy, then another minimum of two weeks
back
to Earth ... which meant, if the Tokomak decided to change their plan and launch a direct assault on Earth, his task force would be out of place.  If only they’d been able to launch the operation sooner ... but there had been too much to do.  No one had called a full mobilisation of the Solar Navy, let alone the Naval Reserve, ever since the Solar Union had been founded.  Unsurprisingly, there had been no shortage of glitches in the system.

And complaints from people who stand to lose money
, he thought, as he glanced back at the ultimatum. 
They’ll lose a great deal more once they surrender to the Tokomak.

Shaking his head, he turned back to his work.  There was simply too much paperwork to do before the squadron left Earth ... and fired the first shot in the war.

***

“Very well done, Ensign,” Commander Gregory said.

“Thank you, Commander,” Yolanda said.  The tactical section wasn't her favourite, but she could handle it.  “I hope the real enemy are as easy to shoot as those pirates.”

“We are about to find out,” Commander Gregory reminded her.  “You’ll be going back to the helm for the operation, Ensign, but I want you to keep working on your tactical simulations.  You won't get promoted without it.”

Yolanda nodded, silently, as the Commander turned and strode out of the compartment, then allowed herself a moment to relax.  After the decision to go to war, the Solar Union had turned into a demon, as far as she could tell.  Every fabricator and production plant had been converted to support the war effort, while almost every starship in the fleet had been turned into a warship.  Some of the news reports she’d been following, in her few moments of spare time, claimed that the Solar Union was even providing advanced weapons to Earth, although she doubted the reports were true.  Earth’s governments would sooner turn advanced weaponry on each other – or the Solar Union – rather than the aliens.

You’d think they'd know better
, she thought. 
It wasn't that long since the Horde bombarded Earth
.

She shook her head, then checked her schedule.  There were quite a few other tasks to complete before the squadron departed, some of which had been assigned to her.  It was the responsibility she’d always wanted and dreaded, even though she was no longer on Earth, where few people dared to take a decision for fear of punishment.  Her stepmother had certainly believed in not allowing Yolanda any latitude, no matter how insane it had been ...

And Commander Gregory isn't your stepmother
, she told herself firmly, as she walked out of the compartment. 
She may disagree with what you’ve done, when she inspects it, or she may chew you out, but she won’t make you feel worthless
.

She ducked to one side as a team of Marines ran past, chanting as they jogged through the compartment.  The Marines onboard, according to Martin, had been reinforced for the operation, which meant that half of them had to sleep in the hold rather than Marine Country.  He had asked, only partly in jest, if he could share her cabin, which might have been easier than sharing with the rest of his platoon.  Yolanda had laughed, then pointed out his CO would probably have been upset.  Martin had, reluctantly, agreed.

And it would have been harder for us to go our separate ways in the morning
, she thought, tartly. 
And one of us might not survive the coming mission
.

***

Martin barely noticed the moment
Freedom
and her consorts slipped into FTL.  His gaze was firmly fixed on the holographic chart of Hades, the coming battleground, as the intelligence officer went through what little the human race knew about the alien complex.  It was strikingly similar to some of the bases Martin had seen on Mars, in many ways, but in others it just looked inefficient.  Wouldn't it be easier, he asked himself, to keep the supplies in orbit?

It would definitely make sense, he thought.  A single antimatter missile detonating in space would be bad, but not unmanageable.  If it detonated on a planet’s surface instead, even a worthless piece of rock like Hades, the devastation would be terrifying.  The bombardment of Earth would be nothing compared to the destruction of an entire naval base.  Hell, if there was enough antimatter on the planet's surface, the blast would crack the planet in two.

“You will notice that most of their supplies are stored in the dumps here, here and here,” the intelligence weenie said, tapping the chart.  “We believe they actually land their freighters here” – he tapped another location on the chart – “then transport the supplies into the dumps and hold them for further deployment.  Quite why they do it this way is a mystery.”

He paused for effect.  “The base is defended by a number of automated weapons platforms, in orbit, and a handful of small PDCs, positioned around the complex,” he added.  “Taking out the former, along with the defending squadron, will be the Navy’s task, but the latter will be our problem.  Stealth missiles will do what they can, but we may have to storm the PDCs and suppress them before the freighters can land.

“We don’t know how many troops the enemy have positioned on the ground, but we find it hard to believe the dump doesn't have at least a small security force assigned to it.  There are several buildings that might well be barracks ...”

Martin sighed as the intelligence officer droned on.  One thing they had learned about the Tokomak – he assumed from the captured starship – was that they were having manpower problems.  It was hard, nearly impossible, to get volunteers for the space fleet, let alone the Tokomak groundpounders.  They were probably far too used to a life of luxury, Martin speculated; on Earth, the military had been largely manned by the poor and downtrodden, rather than the ultra-wealthy.  But two-thirds of the Solar Marines came from the Solar Union, where – with a little bit of effort – they could have earned themselves lives of peaceful luxury.  Their lives could be extended indefinitely.

And they chose to give it up and fight beside the rest of us
, he thought. 
Why didn't they stay where they were
?

He thought he understood, even though it was an alien concept.  They were patriots, loyal to a society that was loyal to them; indeed, they were truly part of their society in a way he’d never been part of the United States of America.  No one had ever asked him, back on Earth, if he’d wanted American troops sent to Cuba, South Africa or even Iran.  Hell, no one had ever asked his opinion on
anything
.  But the Solar Union had wanted him to vote.

“I trust you were all paying attention,” Major Lockland said, once the intelligence officer had finished talking.  Martin, who knew there would be copies of the briefing available online, made a mental note to go over it in cynical detail later.  “The operation will be carried out as follows.”

His gaze swept the room.  Martin thought he knew what he was thinking.  There was no deadweight here, not in the Solar Marines.  Everyone, even the intelligence weenie, was armed and ready to go to war.  Martin had once been told, during training, that there had been militaries where 90% of the manpower was nothing more than support staff for the 10% who did the actual fighting.  It had proven a deadly mistake, if only because the tail had begun to wag the dog.  The Solar Marines were determined not to make the same mistake.  Even their logistics officers were expected to drop with the rest of the company.

“We will be launching missiles at the PDCs,” Major Lockland said.  “After that, we will drop from orbit.  Our particular responsibility will be Dump #2.  The other units will be tasked with taking and holding the other dumps; naturally, I expect us to have our dump secured first.”