Shadows of the Gods: Crimson Worlds Refugees II (8 page)

“We need more artifacts…and we need to figure out what happened here.” Cutter spoke softly. His mind was focused. He and the other researchers in the fleet had struggled to understand the history of the First Imperium. The primary hypothesis was that some disaster had befallen its people…and that some of their robotic servants had continued to function, even through the long ages, continuing to defend the imperial domains. But there was no place in that narrative for ancient battles between machines and living beings.

Could they have been invaded? Was the First Imperium destroyed by another alien race and not some blight or plague? And if that is what happened…where are those beings now?

*    *    *

“All fleet units report ready, Admiral.”

Compton sat in his chair, looking out over the flag bridge. Around
Midway
, he knew, one hundred forty-two other ships of the fleet were in formation, awaiting his orders to engage their engines, and leave the landing parties on their own. Only one vessel would remain in the system, one of John Duke’s fast attack ships. It would hide in the system’s asteroid belt for a week, its systems powered down to minimal life support. Then it would return to the second planet to pick up Max Harmon…and bring him back to the fleet.

“Very well, Captain.” Compton knew the ships of the fleet had the programmed course locked into their navcoms, the thrust plan that would take them through the warp gate into the system the fleet’s hastily-created nomenclature designated X50. But that’s not where they were going.

“Commander Cortez, advise all units that we are transmitting a revised flight plan. All vessels are to lock the new course into their navigational AIs.”

Cortez turned and looked across the bridge toward Compton. “A revised plan, sir?”

“Yes, Commander. A revised plan. Is anything unclear about that?” Compton felt a little sorry for the tactical officer. He’d been planning the alternate course all along, but he’d told no one. No one save Max Harmon, who would need the information to find the fleet…and who would tell no one. Compton felt a twinge of guilt at the coldness of his logic, at the part of him that could imagine a scenario where his landing parties were attacked, where any knowledge they possessed might be discovered. No, he couldn’t take the chance. If the enemy discovered the expeditions, Compton knew he would have to leave them to their destruction. All of them. Even Sophie.

“Ah…yes, sir.” A pause. “But what revised plan?” Cortez turned back to his workstation, but it was clear he was still confused.

“The plan I am sending you now, Commander. I calculated it myself. All vessels are to download it immediately and be prepared to embark in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Cortez replied, struggling mightily to sound confident.

Compton sat quietly while the tactical officer relayed the command. He had pursued the same methodology in selecting warp gates for the fleet since X2, in all instances opting for the one likeliest to lead away from Occupied Space. The methodology of predicting warp gate termini was primitive at best, but it was possible to estimate the distance of each jump through a series of calculations. And the math said that the gate to X50 would lead farther from the worlds of Occupied Space, from Earth.

Compton had been troubled recently, wondering if he was taking a predictable route. If anything, the First Imperium had superior methods for such calculations. He’d wondered if he should alter his methodology, insert some randomness to make it more difficult for a pursuer to project where the fleet had gone. He’d told himself he was being paranoid, but with several thousand people being left behind on planet two, every one of them fully aware that the fleet was bound for the X50 warp gate, he decided now was the time to change.

He pushed back on the guilt. The expedition only had short-ranged shuttles…so knowledge of where the fleet had gone was of no value to them, regardless of what happened. But his conscience still poked at him, at the feeling he was misleading them, lying to them. He thought of what Sophie would think, wondered if she would understand…or if she would be hurt. Or both.

But none of that was of any consequence. The fleet was all that mattered, and his paranoia was far likelier to save it than lead it to disaster.

“Commander Cortez…” His voice was like ice, giving no hint of the doubt and recrimination in his head. “All units are to engage engines.”

Time to see what is in X49
.

Chapter Five

From the Log of Mariko Fujin

The burdens of command are still strange, uncomfortable. Less than a year ago I was just a member of a squadron, a pilot in charge of a single fighter. Now I have three squadrons under me, and I have left my place at the throttle and assumed the command chair. I miss the thrill of flying my own fighter, the exhilaration in bringing the bird in for a decisive strike. But Admiral Hurley has gifted me with her confidence, and I will do all in my power to pay back that debt, to lead the wing she placed in my hands with all the skill and ability I can muster. To do less would be unthinkable.

Still, I often find myself at a loss at how to proceed. There are 90 crew in my wing, and the other 89 look to me to lead them, to understand what they do not, to know how to face the dangers that threaten to destroy us all…to know what to do at every moment. I have tried to be prepared…and I have resorted to bullshit when I had nothing better. At first, I felt like a fraud, an imposter pretending to be a commander in charge of eighteen fighters. But then I began to wonder…is this what command is? Of course, no officer knows what to do in every situation. Even Admiral Compton. Yet I have never seen him look shaken in battle, never heard the slightest doubt in his voice when he was issuing commands. Is he simply hiding his fear? Making his best guess when he doesn’t know what to do? I had never seriously considered this before, though now that I do it makes perfect sense.

I have my crews on a strict regimen of physical training. I want them in shape when we are again called to man our ships, but it is more than simply that. I want them busy, with less time to sit around and think about fallen comrades or stare into the darkness mourning friends and loved ones left behind. Time can wear on men and women in ways different than the stark fear of combat. Insidious ways. And I would not have my people’s effectiveness deteriorate, to have them killed in our next battle because time and doubt and fear have worn down their readiness.

I’d prefer to have them out in their ships, of course, conducting missions, even routine patrols. But that burns fuel, and it just hastens the day when we’ll have to find another gas giant…and stop the whole fleet again. I don’t know why that seems like such a fearsome prospect. After all, we haven’t encountered any enemy vessels in six months, so is stopping for a week or two so dangerous?

When I try to analyze the situation, my answer is invariably ‘no.’ By every intellectual way of looking at it, the risk seems slight. Yet my gut feels differently…and apparently so does Admiral Compton’s. I almost went to Admiral Hurley, to ask her if she could get more fuel assigned for routine missions, just to keep my people sharp. But I didn’t. Somehow, in a way I cannot explain, I believe Admiral Compton is right. It is better for us to preserve fuel, to husband all of our resources. We are up against a great unknown, and we must be cautious…stay ready for the next battle. Because I have no doubt that a fight awaits us out there somewhere.

AS Midway

X49 System – 12,000,000 kilometers from the X48 warp gate

The Fleet: 144 ships, 32,802 crew

“Preliminary scans indicate the system is clear, Admiral.” Cortez was hunched over his workstation, his eyes following the fresh scanner data as it came in. “It looks like six planets…” He paused as he assimilated the reports flashing onto his screen. “Three gas giants…and one frozen chunk of rock six billion kilometers from the primary. Looks like two Earthlike planets.” Another pause. “Yes, both definitely within the habitable zone.”

Compton sat in his chair and nodded. “Very well, Commander.” He had a thoughtful look on his face, but he didn’t say anything.

“Should we move the fleet closer to get some concentrated scans on those planets, sir?” The entry warp gate had dumped the fleet too far from the inner planets to get more than the most basic data.

“Negative, Commander. I want to get the fleet through this system as quickly as possible…and we’re more likely to find warp gates out here than deep in system.” It took considerably more time to find warp gates than it did planets and other major bodies of matter. The strange phenomena that made interstellar travel a practical reality were still largely a mystery to human science. But a century and a half of research had yielded a few bits of knowledge, including the fact that warp gates tended to occur in the outer reaches of systems, with fewer than 3% of known gates located closer to a primary than the most distant planet.

“Very well, sir. Warp gate scan is underway.”

Compton leaned back and sighed softly. The search could take hours, even days. He might as well put that time to good use…

“Commander…Admiral Hurley is to launch a fighter wing to scout out the inner planets.” He wasn’t about to have the whole fleet burn fuel to move in-system, whether he had the time to waste or not. But a group of fighters could make a quick run and be back onboard their mother ships without affecting the overall timetable. And he did want to know what those worlds looked like if he could…at least some basic scans.

“Yes, Admiral.”

Compton sighed again. He was trying to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to X48…to those he had left there. Hieronymus, Ana, Max…almost fifteen hundred Marines and most of the top scientific brainpower on the fleet. So many key people…friends. The loss of the landing party would cripple the fleet, in more ways than one.

And Sophie
. He’d found himself pondering ways to keep her on the fleet before the expedition departed. He knew, even as the thoughts went through his head, that it was foolish, hopeless. The primary reason for the expedition was to solve the food crisis…and Sophie Barcomme was the fleet’s foremost scientist in that area. It was unthinkable for her to remain on
Midway
. The fates of thousands of fleet personnel relied on the success of the mission. If Sophie and her people didn’t bring back the food the fleet needed, people were going to start dying. Soon.

Still, he was surprised just how much he missed her. Their late talks had been one of his few pleasures, and since she’d gone he had lain in bed each night, a constant array of problems running through his sleepless and tormented mind. Compton knew every man had his breaking point, that last bit of stress and pressure that was just too much for him to endure. But he also realized he couldn’t afford to have one. Whatever had to be done, he simply
had
to do it, had to endure and face whatever happened. His people depended on him, and he’d be damned if he would let them down.

What if she doesn’t come back?
It was a thought he’d tried to banish from his mind, but that had only made it more firmly entrenched. He cut it off every time it popped into his head, but any respite was brief, and it wasn’t long before it was back. He was too old a warrior to ignore the threats the expedition faced, the very real danger they were all in. He still felt the pain of Elizabeth’s loss…every day…and he couldn’t imagine losing Sophie too.

No, she will come back. I’ve got Colonel Preston and fifteen hundred Marines down there to make damned sure they all come back
. But the doubt still nagged at him.

“Admiral…”

It was Cortez…and Compton realized it had been the third or fourth time the tactical officer had called to him.

“Yes, Commander…I was thinking about the repair schedules…”
That’s the best thing you could come up with? I guess it’s better than ‘I’m over here pining like a lovesick schoolboy.’

“Yes, sir.” Cortez was pretty stone cold with his reply, but Compton didn’t believe for a second the commander had bought his cover story. “I just wanted to report that Admiral Hurley had ordered Commander Fujin’s wing to scout the system.”

“Ah…very well.” Mariko Fujin was quickly becoming one of Hurley’s ‘go to’ officers.
No surprise after the way she handled herself in X18
. “Advise Commander Fujin that she is to report directly to the flag bridge as soon as her people have any data.”

“Yes, sir,” Cortez replied.

“And advise Admiral Hurley to get another of her wings on alert…just in case we need to check out any potential warp gate sightings.” He knew the fleet didn’t need to deploy fighters to search for warp gates, but sending them out would extend the range of close inspections…and possibly speed up the process. And Compton wanted to move on as quickly as possible and get the fleet farther from X48. Just in case.

*    *    *

“Alright, we’re going to do the same thing we did in system X48.” Fujin sat in her chair, snapping out orders and fighting the urge to reach out for the throttle that wasn’t in front of her anymore. It was a habit that appeared to die hard, though she had allowed herself to think it was getting a little better. “The Lightnings will drop a series of scanner buoys and remain in position two hundred thousand kilometers from the planet. I know this system looks empty, but the truth is we’d have no idea if there was an enemy ship somewhere, powered down and watching us.” A little mental aid to keep her people sharp.
Let them imagine an enemy Gremlin or Gargoyle, lurking in the empty depths, just waiting to strike
.

She listened quietly while the Lightnings’ commander confirmed. Then she took a quick look at her display. “Wildcats, I want you to move into low orbit and do a north-south sweep around the planet. Thousand klick interval between birds.”