Rumors of Salvation (System States Rebellion Book 3) (4 page)

“Activate
anti-missile defenses!” he shouted. The order was acknowledged immediately.
After a few seconds he heard the voice of the Duty Officer.

“We
don’t have good firing solutions, Admiral. Hit probability is less than 11%.
Even if we fire multiple shots at a given target, we’ll use up all our
available lasersats, and we still won’t get them all!”

Chenko
took a deep breath. “Understood. We still have to try to get as many of them as
we can. Allocate your targeting for optimum results and fire, Commander.” The
Duty Officer didn’t even bother to acknowledge the order, and Chenko let it
pass. Under the circumstances, protocol was not that important. After a few
seconds, the display flashed as those lasersats that had line-of-sight to any
detected missile exploded with thermonuclear energies that were focused for a
fraction of a second into highly concentrated beams of x-rays. Most of the red
dots disappeared, but not all of them. Chenko counted the ones left. There were
thirteen, and he was knowledgeable enough to understand that there were bound
to be more missiles that they hadn’t detected yet.

“Send
out the General Alert and get me the Council Chairman,” said Chenko in a
resigned voice. He noticed that the noise level in the room went up as the
staff sent out the alert notice to the entire planet. “Do we have any lasersats
that can fire on that ship?” he asked.

“Just
one, Admiral. It wasn’t in a position to fire on any missiles, but it does have
line-of-sight to that ship, and we have a good firing solution on it.”

“Then
let’s take the shot while we can,” ordered Chenko. This time the Duty Officer
did acknowledge the order. The display flashed again, and the red triangle lost
one of its sides, indicating a hit.

1st
Empire Fleet Ship Victorious

Senior
Commander Nagumo swore as his tactical display showed the fleet flagship get
hit by the full fury of an exploding lasersat’s x-ray laser beams.

“Try
to raise the Admiral again!” he shouted. The orders to launch a massive missile
barrage by every ship in the fleet had taken him by surprise, and then the lack
of communications after the launch had puzzled him, but now he needed to know
if Admiral Romanov was alive and still able to exercise command of the fleet.
If not, then he had to assume temporary command of the fleet and continue the
operation. Even as he thought that, he realized that there wouldn’t be much
left of the operation after the remaining missiles hit. Landing troops at that
point would be a waste of time unless they were going to try to save as many
survivors as possible. The troops weren’t trained for that and didn’t have
anywhere close to enough of the right kind of supplies to help more than a tiny
fraction of Earth’s population. Nagumo couldn’t get rid of a nagging feeling
that something had gone terribly wrong and that the missile attack was a
mistake.

“Where’s
that com channel to the Admiral?” he asked.

“No
reply, Sir,” said the Com Officer. Nagumo cursed again. As the seconds passed
and the waves of missile got closer to the Earth, that nagging feeling at the
back of his head was getting worse. This wasn’t the mission at all! Romanov had
told his ship C.O.s that they were to open the way so that the troops could
land and pacify the planet, not blast it back into the Stone Age for God sakes!

Planetary
Defense Ops:

Chenko
pounded the railing in front of him. Where the hell was that com channel to the
Council Chairman?

“Council
Chairman is on the line now, Admiral,” said a shaken voice that didn’t sound
like the Duty Officer. Before Chenko could say anything, he heard the Chairman
speak.

“What’s
happening Admiral Chenko?”

“Earth
is under missile attack, Mr. Chairman. We have one confirmed enemy ship, but I
have a strong hunch that there are more we can’t detect yet. We don’t have a
lot of time. The nearest missiles will hit in less than 60 seconds. We’ve
already fired all the lasersats that had any chance of hitting those missiles
that we can see. I strongly recommend that we broadcast a surrender declaration
while there’s still time for the enemy to stop their missiles.”

“Surrender?
My God, you can’t be serious! Those missiles will do some damage, yes, but
we’ll have our ground-based defenses if they try to land troops afterwards! No,
I won’t authorize the surrender! Grow a spine, dammit!”

Chenko
shook his head. “You’re assuming that those missiles have chemical explosive
warheads intended for surgical strikes on specific ground targets, Mr.
Chairman. There’s too much at risk to make that assumption. Those missiles
might very well be carrying nukes, and if there’s as many as I suspect,
civilization on this planet will disappear!”

“No!
They wouldn’t dare launch a massive nuclear strike on Earth! You’re letting
your fear cloud your judgement, Admiral! I thought you had more guts than
that!”

“Well,
we’ll find out in about ten seconds when the first missiles hit.” Chenko was
about to add that one of the thirteen missiles on the display seemed to be
headed for the city where the Federation Council was based and where the
Chairman was right now. He decided not to share that information because the
missile would hit before he finished the sentence.

“You’ll
see that I’m ri—“ The voice was cut off with a high-pitched screech. Chenko
felt a rumble and knew that Zurich had been nuked. The Planetary Defense Center
was far enough away and deep enough under a mountain that it was safe from
anything except a direct hit by a very powerful warhead. The Federation Council
was now gone, and Chenko felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He no longer
had any civilians who could tie his hands, and that meant he could take
whatever action he deemed necessary now.

“I
want an open broadcast on all channels! Tell those bastards that we surrender,
and let’s hope they can still hear us through all the blast EM pulses!”

1st
Empire Fleet Ship Victorous

“I’m
getting the same transmission on all channels from the planet, Commander! They
say they surrender!”

“Okay,
Weapons Officer, auto-destruct our remaining missiles. Com, tell the rest of
the fleet that I’m assuming command, and that they’re to auto-destruct their
missiles too!” ordered Nagumo. He felt relief that he wouldn’t be witnessing
the death of humanity’s home today. He had a few anxious moments when
Challenger’s CO demanded confirmation that Nagumo had the right to assume Fleet
command, but he was able to convince her that contact with Conqueror was lost,
and with Earth’s surrender, there was no longer any reason to destroy it. It
was a relief when all the remaining missiles had destroyed themselves, and
Earth’s surrender had been accepted.

Twenty-four
hours later:

Chenko
stepped into the well-appointed quarters of the Acting Fleet Commander. The
guard who had escorted him there announced his presence, and Nagumo came out of
what probably was the bedroom. Chenko recognized him from a brief encounter
years earlier when Nagumo was still a loyal Federation officer. Nagumo nodded
to the guard, who turned and left.

“Have
a seat, Admiral Chenko,” said Nagumo in a surprisingly non-hostile voice.
Chenko did so. “Can I offer you something to drink?” asked Nagumo.

“No
thank you. I don’t drink with traitors,” said Chenko as casually as he could.
There was a flash of anger on Nagumo’s face that quickly disappeared. He
nodded.

“The
label is accurate. I did betray my oath to the Federation; I won’t deny that.
Would you like to know why?” Nagumo was surprised when Chenko shook his head.

“Not
really. I’m sure you think you had a good reason, but I can’t think of anything
that would justify what you’ve done, so don’t bother.”

Nagumo
strode over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. With that in
hand, he came back and sat opposite Chenko. After taking a sip from his drink,
he said, “My reason is the same as General Trojan’s reason. Aren’t you the
least bit curious as to why General Trojan declared the Empire and himself as
Emperor?”

Chenko
was curious, but didn’t want to admit it, so he stayed silent.

Nagumo
smiled. “You’re not saying no, so I’ll take your silence as a yes. Tell me,
Admiral, what did you and General Masterson expect would happen after the SSU
was defeated?”

Chenko
shrugged. “Nothing spectacular or mysterious. Those rebel planets would be
re-integrated into the FPS, and the status quo would have been restored.”

“Suppose
I told you that Majestic did a VERY comprehensive projection of the post-war
period extending another century beyond the war’s end.”

A
chill went up Chenko’s spine. He and Masterson had a hunch that Majestic was
involved somehow in this abomination. “And what did the machine come up with?”

“Chaos
and anarchy.” After a pause he continued. “The attempt to suppress the SSU would
have generated only more resentment and anger. Eventually, there’d have been
another attempt at secession, and another after that, and another after that.
The Federation’s been living on borrowed time for the past three decades.
Majestic calculated a better than even chance that it would have collapsed
within three decades, and after that it would have been a free-for-all. Planets
would have built up fleets and armies. Then they would have gone after each
other with weapons of mass destruction and death, nuclear bombardment of the
kind that Earth got a taste of yesterday, plus horrendous depopulation from
bio-weapons. Whole planets would have lost all human life on them. Civilization
would have broken down until the survivors would be fighting over food and
water with clubs. That Dark Age would have lasted for at least three whole
centuries, Admiral.”

Chenko
scowled. It sounded pretty awful, but of course it would have to in order to
justify Nagumo’s betrayal, and yet he sounded as if he believed what he was
saying. When it was clear that Chenko wasn’t going to say anything, Nagumo
continued.

“Majestic
came up with an alternative scenario that was equally compelling in its detail.
A central government with a strong, decisive individual at the helm, dedicated
to preventing any planet from developing or building offensive weapons like
ships or tanks, could keep the peace and allow all planets the breathing space
to develop at their own pace.”

Before
he could go on, Chenko interrupted. “But that’s what the Federation was for!”

Nagumo
gave an amused chuckle. “You really believe that, don’t you? What you don’t
seem to realize is that the Federation is a de facto Oligarchy. Earth dominates
the Assembly, and the Council and the big Chartered Companies dominate Earth’s
representatives to the FPS. That’s not a strong central government at all.
Policies that are politically expedient and that benefit the Chartered
Companies are the ones that get voted into law, not ones that are good for the
Federation as a whole. That’s why the SSU was formed in the first place.
Planets were exploited by the big companies, and they were helpless under
Federation Law to prevent it. Majestic’s logic was air-tight. You’ve never
actually seen the machine in operation, have you? Even before we expanded it in
Phase II, it was far more capable than the old Oracle device that Trojan used
on Earth. When Trojan looked at the analysis and the computations, he became
convinced that he had a higher duty to Human Civilization that trumped his oath
to the Federation. I came to the same conclusion after I looked at Majestic’s
results. Others have too. In fact, I don’t know of anyone who’s taken a good
look at the analysis and hasn’t reached the same conclusion.

Chenko
refused to look at Nagumo. If he was telling the truth, then the fact that
others had voluntarily switched sides was a compelling fact that made Nagumo’s
explanation very hard to ignore. Chenko remembered a conversation with
Masterson early in the war, during which Chenko had speculated that maybe the
Federation was too big and travel times were too long for it to be governed
effectively by one central authority.

“You
examined Majestic’s analysis yourself; you didn’t just take Trojan’s word for
it?” he asked in a somber voice.

“I
looked it over very carefully. Trojan insisted on it, just like he did with the
others. There’s no doubt in my mind at all that Majestic came up with that
analysis. In order to ignore it, you’d have to assume that the machine was
falsifying the computations for some ulterior motive, which you have to admit,
Admiral, is pretty ludicrous, right?”