Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering (41 page)

BOOK: Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering
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“One section of our country believes the
Alliance First Act
is right and ought to be extended, while the other believes it to be wrong and ought to be repealed. In our present differences, is either side unsure it is in the right? Has it not always been our way to place such issues before the wisdom of our people and abide by the will of the majority? Why then, should there not be a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people?

“If a minority then deigns to secede rather than acquiesce to the will of the majority, they set a dangerous precedent that will eventually ruin them. At some future point, will not a minority of their own secede from them, whenever any minority refuses to be controlled by such majority? May not some portion of this new
Confederacy
arbitrarily secede again, precisely as portions of our present Union now claim to secede from it? Clearly secession is the essence of anarchy.

“I hold that according to the constitution, the Union of these planets is perpetual. Perpetuity is implied in the foundational law of all national governments. I think it’s safe to assume that no government has ever included a provision for its own termination, in its fundamental law. But if the United Stellar Alliance is not a proper government, but merely an association of planets in the nature of a contract, can that contract be unmade lawfully by less than
all
of the parties who originally made the contract? One party to a contract may violate its terms and break the contract, but does it not require all parties to lawfully rescind it?

“It follows, then, that no planet, upon its own resolve, can lawfully leave the Union, and any ordinances to that effect are legally invalid. Therefore, acts by any planet or group of planets, which impugn the authority of the United Stellar Alliance, are insurrectionary.

“We are not enemies, but family. Though passions may have strained them, they must not break our bonds of brotherly affection. I say now to our disaffected brethren in the South, return to the bosom of your family and all will be forgiven.

“But if you will not, remember that insurrection against lawful government cannot be ignored nor tolerated. Think calmly and clearly upon this whole subject. In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of military intervention against your insurrection towards the government. In thirty days, I will dispatch emissaries to receive your decision.”

“Hal, what’s our financial status at the moment?”

Per your instructions, I divested your portfolio of Alliance stocks just prior to the crash, and purchased major interests in several British, German, Australian and Japanese companies, which produce materials of potential value to the Confederacy. After purchase of the assets in Joja where the
Infiltrators
are being built, your personal assets are currently at $32,765,932,645.09, but the foreign stock markets are expected to recover from their reaction to the turmoil in the Alliance market, so I envision your asset values rising to just over $50 billion by the end of April.

“Speaking of the
Infiltrators
, what’s your current estimate for completion of additional
Infiltrators
for service in the Confederate Fleet?”

Working non-stop… June, 3863.

“Damn, that’s over two years away.”

I’m sorry, Diet, but the
Infiltrators
are an extremely complex craft to build. I will try to ascertain methods by which we might shorten the build process, but we cannot allow quality to suffer through impatience.

“Oh, I know that, Hal, and I fully agree. I just wish there were something else we could be doing to help. Things look to break loose next month and I’m getting nervous.”

I will begin contemplating methods for obtaining foreign-made weaponry to supplement what we have, and can build locally.

“Okay, good. How are things set up for the prototype
Infiltrator
to act as your window to the Confederacy once hostilities begin?”

CSS
Ghost
has had full cruiser-grade military instrumentation installed and taken on a full weapons load at Mystic and is en route to Socar, which is currently the closest Confederate planet to Waston.
Ghost
will rendezvous with Rear Admiral Stillman’s Task Force-21 there for resupply and refueling before departing for Waston. Communications should be simplified if, and when, Ginia secedes and joins the Confederacy.

“We hope. As things are on the verge of popping, are you getting nervous too, Hal?”

I’m a computer, Diet… computers don’t get nervous.

“Oh, come on, Hal. We both know you’re a
lot
more than ‘just’ a computer.”

Well, admittedly I have been error-checking the details of our project a bit more often than the usual three times lately.

“You’re nervous!” Diet laughed.

Perhaps… a little.

“Ah, hum.”

Arlene McAllister, Chief of Fleet Operations, looked up from her computer console and was startled to see Secretary of Defense Jeannine Franks standing in her doorway at the Heptagon.

“Madam Secretary! What brings you here this morning?”

“I want you to ask that overgrown calculator of yours, where the hell Fleet Admiral Kalis is,” replied Franks. “That insufferable man ran off on some inspection tour of Fleet readiness
,
before a subpoena from the Senate Armed Services Committee could reach him. The new president is screaming at me to find him and haul his scrawny ass back here, so Senator Fitzwater can grill him to a nice golden brown. There’s a chance I can get reappointed as
SecDef
under the Marrot administration, and I don’t want that old man’s disappearing act screwing it up for me.”

Admiral McAllister cringed inside.
Oh no… not another four years of Jeannine Franks, please God.
Franks was a political insider, who desired the position merely for the prestige and perks of a cabinet-level position. That wouldn’t be so bad if she’d just leave the Fleet alone and let the admirals run it, but Jeannine Franks was just one of those people who couldn’t walk through a kitchen without tasting what the chef had sizzling on the stove, and then adding her own dash of this and a dash of that... and later firing the chef because dinner was a disaster.

McAllister cleared her screen and flipped a switch on her console. “Bozo?”

Yes, Admiral McAllister?

“Where is Fleet Admiral Kalis right now?”

Unknown. His itinerary indicates he is in transit between Tucky and Souri, but his spaceplane is currently listed as “overdue” at Souri.

“How old is this information, Bozo?”

Thirty-one hours, Admiral. I am expecting an update from Souri to arrive within the next two hours.

“Notify me immediately as to Admiral Kalis’ status when that update arrives, Bozo.”

Wilco, Admiral.

“What the hell does ‘wilco’ mean?” snarled Franks.

“It's a Fleet contraction for,
will comply,
Madam Secretary.”

“Find out what the rest of Kalis’ itinerary is and send out messages to the entire list, ordering him to return to Waston, without delay,” said Franks.

“Bozo, did you hear the Secretary of Defense’ instructions?”

Yes, Admiral.

“Execute, as specified.”

Orders to that effect have been added to updates scheduled for Souri, Io and Wisco, Admiral.

“Will there be anything else, Madam Secretary?”

A search for Admiral Kalis’ spaceplane was initiated after the ensuing update from Souri changed its status from
overdue
to
missing
. Over 100 Fleet craft of all types were launched to begin scouring the spacelanes between Tucky and Souri in the attempt to locate Admiral Kalis and the other five passengers and crew of the missing 20-passenger
GulfMaster
executive spaceliner the Fleet used to shuttle governmental officials and senior Fleet officers around the Alliance, as necessary. In all the excitement, no one noticed that besides Admiral Kalis, the rest of the passengers consisted of solely of Kalis’ personal staff.

The rest of March proceeded pretty much as expected. Marrot appointed or reappointed cabinet positions, meticulously adhering to J.P. Aneke’s list. Even though the senate rubberstamped all of the appointments, it took a while to get everyone through the confirmation process, just because of the sheer numbers of people involved. To the almost universal consternation of the Fleet, Jeannine Franks was reappointed as Secretary of Defense.

The Planet Socar, Colum International Spaceport

March 19, 3861

“My God, they’re coming,” breathed Marjorie Hennings, a deep-space traffic controller at
Colum International Spaceport
on Socar. There on her long-range scanner screen over 30 blips appeared suddenly, approximately 3-4 light minutes out. That many ships coming in as a group always meant military and since Socar and the rest of the
Confederacy
didn’t have a military, that meant the Alliance Fleet had just arrived.

“I have over 30 ships inbound at 188 by 231,” Hennings announced to the other controllers in the room, knowing her normally controlled, professional voice sounded shaky and broken.

Mark Haywood, the duty supervisor came over and looked over her shoulder. “Jesus, so much for their thirty days. It looks like they didn’t wait.” Haywood grabbed the communicator at Henning’s station and said, “Get me the governor’s office… priority!”

Three very, very tense minutes went by, as every controller in the room waited for the inevitable message of impending calamity from the Alliance Fleet that was surely winging its way through space, to arrive. At four and a half minutes, Hennings’ comm came alive in her ear:

“Socar control, this is Task Force-21 of the Confederate Fleet, arriving Socar to assume responsibilities for the defense of this system. Rear Admiral Benjamin Stillman, commanding.”

Unsure of exactly what she just heard, Hennings croaked out, “Say again, task Force 21. Did you say
Confederate Fleet?”

Eight agonizing minutes later, Hennings heard, “Affirmative Socar control… this is Task Force-21 of the Fleet of the Confederate Stellar Accord, arriving in defense of the Socar system. Rear Admiral Benjamin Stillman, commanding.”

Marjorie Hennings broke into tears as she joyfully announced to everyone within earshot, “THEY’RE OURS! We have a
Confederate Fleet
and they’re here to protect us!”

Pandemonium broke out within the Colum International Spaceport control room. “This is Governor Bright,” a voice said from the communicator Mark Haywood was still unconsciously holding in his hand.

“Governor, this is Supervisor Haywood at Colum International Spaceport Control. Please be advised that we have a Confederate Fleet, I repeat, a
Confederate Fleet
inbound, and they’re here to protect Socar.”

CSS Independence, in orbit above the Planet Socar

March 21, 3861

“Captain, I am receiving an incoming message for Admiral Stillman via tight-beam laser communications, sir.”

Captain Richard Bonhoeffer, commanding officer of the attack carrier CSS
Independence
, turned to the junior officer manning the communications console and asked, “Who’s sending it, Clancy?” Bonhoeffer expected the message to have either originated from one of the other ships in the task force, or coming up from Socar and the admiral would want to know who was signaling him.

LTJG Randall Clancy looked at Capt. Bonhoeffer with confusion evident on his face. “I don’t know sir… ah, the message appears to coming from empty space, bearing 271 by 197.”

“Scan, give me a look at 271 by 197, 3° spread, maximum power,” barked Bonhoeffer
.

After several minutes, the scan operator responded, “Negative contact, Captain.”

“Any thermal showing on infrared?”

“No, Captain. There’s nothing there.”

Capt. Bonhoeffer pursed his lips in consternation.
This is weird.
“Comm, open me a voice channel on laser directed towards the bearing that message came in from.”

“Channel is open, Captain,” responded Randy Clancy.

Bonhoeffer toggled the transmit button on his console. “This is Captain Richard Bonhoeffer, commanding officer of the CSS
Independence
... to entity sending the message to Rear Admiral Stillman. Identify yourself, please.”

Seven minutes later LTJG Clancy announced, “Captain, I am receiving an incoming priority orders packet, coded specifically for Admiral Stillman, sir.”

Bonhoeffer toggled the ship’s intercom. “Admiral to the bridge, repeat… Admiral Stillman to the bridge, please.”

“What have you got, Rich?” asked Rear Admiral Benjamin Stillman, as he entered the
Independence
bridge.

“Incoming priority orders packet coded specifically for you, sir. It came in from empty space,” responded Bonhoeffer.

Stillman’s left eyebrow rose slightly at Bonhoeffer’s
empty space
comment. “I’ll take it at my station in CIC,” said Stillman, as he turned towards the ship’s Combat Information Center. Stillman sat down at his station and placed his thumb over the scanner to identify himself to the computer to unlock the message. “Computer, this is Rear Admiral Benjamin Stillman. Open the priority orders packet coded to my attention.” Within five seconds, the screen illuminated with the incoming message:

 

CONFEDERATE STELLAR ACCORD

FLEET ORDER: CLASSIFICATION PRESIDENTIAL TOP SECRET INTELLIGENCE

March 16, 3861

To: Rear Admiral Benjamin F. Stillman, Commanding, Task Force-21

From: Admiral Christopher Rawley, Commanding Officer in Charge, 2nd Fleet

Subject: Order Authorization: F446HR81XB65K

 

You are hereby notified of your brevet promotion to the rank of vice admiral by order of the president of the Confederate Stellar Accord and are directed to assume personal command of Fleet Intelligence support operations outlined as follows:

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