Alarm of War, Book II: The Other Side of Fear (11 page)

“May the One God bless you, but can’t you move any fucking faster, Emily?” Rafael shouted, turning to fire at the two grogin who had jumped up to the shelf and were moving toward him.

Emily took a breath and scrambled forward.  Two feet, then two more.  A grogon suddenly appeared in the air next to her, snapping furiously, spittle spraying her face before gravity snatched it down.  “Gods of Our Mothers, shoot the buggers!” she screamed angrily.  The grogon landed, sidestepped and set itself to jump again, then its haunches pulped to red jam under the force of Rafael’s flechettes and it spun in a circle under the blow.

Three other grogin leapt just as Emily grabbed the branch and pulled herself into the shelter of the tree.  Rafael caught one in mid-air with a body shot, but the other two crashed into the ladder, which dislodged and fell clattering to the ground.  Emily ignored it, grappling for her pistol.  She snapped off three quick shots and decapitated the grogon three feet behind Rafael.  It fell in a boneless heap, momentarily blocking the two grogin behind it.  She fired twice more, then twice again and the second grogon fell.  The third leapt back down to the ground.

There was a momentary pause as the beasts milled about in confusion and blood lust and Rafael stared horrified at the two dead grogin, just inches from where he stood on the shelf.  Two more grogin leapt up to the shelf, then a third and a fourth. 

Emily scrambled higher in the tree, careful not to snarl the rope that connected her to Raf.  When she was about ten feet higher, the rope was almost fully extended.  She pulled a loop tight around a broken branch, braced herself and leaned back, loosening her flechette pistol in its holster.

The grogin on the shelf attacked, fangs exposed, bounding along the shelf toward Rafael.

“Jump!”  she screamed.  “Jump!”

The grogin leapt. 

Rafael jumped. 

The grogin sailed through the air where he had been an instant before, then fell fifteen feet to the ground below.  Rafael flew in an arc at the bottom of the rope, swinging wildly, careening off the trunk of the tree with an audible ‘thump’ and losing his rifle in the process.  One or two grogin tried to leap up at him, but he was moving too fast and their jaws closed uselessly on thin air.  When he swung for a moment, Emily fired her pistol into the mass of the baying, wailing beasts, forcing them to scatter.

Adrenalin inspired, Rafael scrambled up the rope in record time and lurched onto the tree limb next to Emily.  She handed him a canteen of water, which he first poured on his face, then drank.  

“That jump was really, um,
graceful
,” she teased.  “And the poise with which you smashed into the tree; it was artistic, Raf, simply
artistic
.”

A grogon leapt high in an effort to reach them, scrabbling to hold onto a lower branch with its paws while it snapped menacingly at them.  Emily eyed it impassively.  Rafael took another sip from the canteen.  The animal lost its purchase and tumbled down.

“Gods of Our Mothers, this is the most
interesting
first date I have ever been on,” she deadpanned.  She leaned forward, peering below.  “I think the horses got away,” she marveled.  Another grogon jumped up at them but fell short.  Emily leaned back against the tree trunk and closed her eyes.  The leaves smelled faintly of mint.  Funny, she hadn’t noticed it before.

“What unit are you in, Raf?”

He looked at her.  “What?”

“You most certainly do not design space forts,” she said matter-of-factly.  “You’ve got callouses on your hands that nobody gets working at a desk job.  I know, I work at a desk.”  She eyed him speculatively. “And you’re very comfortable with weapons and making decisions under fire, not what I’d expect from a glorified architect.  So, what unit are you with?”

Raf eyed her for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head.  “I always remembered you as a smart one.”  He looked away, then looked back.  “I’m a company commander in the Special Reconnaissance Force,” he said.

Emily had heard of the SRF.  She was impressed, but decided not to show it.  “So you’re a snake eater,” she said.  He looked puzzled.  “Sorry, old reference,” she chuckled.  Below, the grogin milled about, looking up at them.  She looked at her watch.

“What would your buddies say if they heard you’d been treed by a bunch of grogin?” she asked innocently.

He grimaced.  “Be a little embarrassing,” he admitted. 

She looked at her watch again and stood up on the tree limb. On the forest floor the grogin stirred restlessly.  From the distance a faint sound penetrated, then gradually grew louder until it was the unmistakable sound of a military assault craft, a chemically driven vertical takeoff/landing craft the size of a shuttle, but heavily armed for air to ground strikes.  Rafael scrambled to his feet.  “That’s an assault bird!”

Emily reached into her vest and pulled out a small, pen-shaped object.  A small blue light was flashing on and off, on and off.  Emily thumbed another switch and the blue light turned to red and flashed more rapidly, then she wedged it into the fork of a small tree branch.  Rafael recognized immediately; it was a Search and Rescue beacon and it would guide the Victorian assault craft right to them.

“They’ve been searching for us!” he said, astonished and little chagrined.   “How did you know?”

“I always carry a SAR beacon in the woods,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.  “Once the grogin found us, I signaled the
New Zealand
.  They would have passed it on to the Victorian military detachment in Tinjdad.”

The assault craft circled overhead.  The pilot, visible through the dome, gave them a thumbs up and pointed below to where he intended to land.  Below, the wailing stopped abruptly and the grogin trotted off into the forest and disappeared, all except for the Alpha female, who stood for a long moment, staring at them.  Emily patted the stock of her sonic rifle.  The Alpha lifted a leg and urinated eloquently on the ground, then wheeled about and vanished. 

Emily snorted, half ruefully, half in admiration.  There was no doubt what the Alpha had just said: 
Well, Sister, round one to you, but you don’t think this is over, do you?

A frown passed over Rafael’s face.  “What did you mean, a ‘first date’?  This wasn’t a date.”

Emily smiled.  It was a lovely smile.  “I’d bet that your mothers and sister will say you’re wrong.”

Chapter 9

On Space Station Atlas, in Refuge Sector

After a long meeting with Lori Romano, Hiram Brill made a list of things that had to happen, carefully scrutinizing the order in which they had to occur to make everything work.  In another column he listed the resources he would need.  After a long time rewriting and rearranging his lists, he realized he was still missing two pieces of information.  He tapped his fingers against the keyboard, mentally working his way through possible solutions.  Finally, he made three phone calls.  The first was to Colonel Dov Tamari.

“Yes?” Tamari answered, giving neither his name nor rank.

“It’s Commander Brill, Colonel.  Do you still have assets in the Refuge System?”

“Yes, sir.  There are currently eight ships in system, although some of them are being repaired.”

“Do you have two that can take on an immediate mission?  They won’t have to leave the System, just launch some courier drones.”

Tamari paused for a moment, no doubt wondering why the young Commander didn’t simply requisition one of the regular Fleet ships for this boondoggle.  “I’ve got two corvettes that could leave within the hour.”

“That will suffice, Colonel,” Hiram said, relieved that he didn’t have to take this idea to either Admiral Douthat or the Queen just yet.  “I am sending the message I want the couriers to broadcast and the route I want them to follow.”

The second call was to Max Opinsky, the de facto chief of operations for the space station Atlas.   Hiram asked him one question.

Opinsky was silent for a long moment, then sighed dramatically.  “You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

“Can it be done?” Hiram pressed.

“Oh, sure, it can be done.  If you hit it, it will be a bloody disaster, but it’s not the easiest thing in the world, you know, you have to get in close to give you decent odds.”

“Will one do it?”

“Gods of Our Mothers, Hiram, how the hell do I know?  No one’s ever done this, best I know.  This may come as a shock to you, but we actually go out of our way to make sure that things like this
don’t
happen.”

“If you were doing it, how many…?”

Opinsky muttered under his breath.  “If it were me, I’d make sure I had six, the bigger the better.  Figure two are going to miss, they’ll shoot down one, but if you get in nice and close, you’ll hit ‘em with at least three.  I can’t tell you that three will destroy it, but bugger me if it doesn’t ruin their day.”

“I owe you one, Max,” Hiram said warmly.

The third call was to Peter Murphy, the head of the Tugboat Guild and captain of the
Son of Dublin,
one of the Fleet’s large tugboats.

“Christ Jesus!” Murphy said when he heard who it was.  “Every time you call me I know I am going to land knee deep in the muck!  What harebrained adventure are you dreaming up now?”

Hiram told him.  He was greeted with stunned silence.  “I’ll need enough tugs to capture and maneuver six of them, Peter.  You’ll have to tell me how many tugs we’re going to need.  And add some extras, just in case,” he cautioned.  “We’ll give them as much protection as we can, but it’s going to get rough.”

“But how are you going to get them there?” Murphy wanted to know.  “Tugs are slow and not exactly stealthy.  You can’t just sneak them through the wormhole with half the Dominion Fleet on the other side.”

“I’m working on that, Peter,” Hiram said, then cut the connection.

Ten hours later, two Marine LRR corvettes reached their respective destinations in Refuge space and launched a series of courier drones.  The drones immediately separated and began to fly deeper into space.  They all broadcast the same message on an endless loop:  “I need chocolate cake.  I need chocolate cake.  I need chocolate cake.”

The message was heard by the Sensors Officers on countless Refuge and Victorian ships, who had not a clue what it meant.  It was even heard by a Dominion spy ship, drifting powered down in full stealth mode.  The Captain and his Sensors Officer looked at each other in puzzlement and spent several fruitless hours running it through their computers, to no avail.

The following day, the intended recipient heard the message, snorted in amusement, and then pondered what to do next.  Suddenly somber, he wondered if the time had come for The Light to reveal its most closely guarded secret.

And what would happen if it did.

Chapter 10

With the Dominion of Unified Citizenry Fleet

at the Wormhole to Refuge

              “They are ready to break, I tell you.  One more strong push and we’ll have them!”  Michael Hudis glowered at Admiral Kaeser, who glowered back.  “Their queen is no more than a school girl.  She is on the brink of surrendering.  Her battleships are destroyed, her fleet in tatters.  She boasts about making a battleship a week, but it’s all a lie, a bluff.  Don’t you see? She’s clutching at straws, Admiral.  Your attacks have taken her right to the edge of total defeat, you only have to push hard and she’ll be crushed.”

              Admiral Kaeser was unmoved.  “In four months we’ll have enough new ships to defeat them.  Four more months.  There is no need to rush into-“

              “But they still have Atlas!  What can
they
build in four months?  Ten destroyers?  Four cruisers?  A battleship?  Why take the chance that the Vickies might nullify our production gains?”  Hudis saw the stubborn resolve in Kaeser’s face and sighed.  He leaned closer.  “Admiral, I met with their girl queen.  She is a
child
.  She is scared, Admiral, scared and desperate.  She was ready to surrender if we could give her guarantees.  Guarantees!  They are on their knees, Admiral.  Now is not the time for caution, now is the time to strike when they are down!”

              Kaeser didn’t like any of this, because even if he accepted Hudis’s recommendation, if the attack failed he would still be blamed.  He knew this game, and he despised it.  Reluctantly, he turned to the view screen where the image of Anthony Nasto watched them impatiently.

              “I do not recommend this, Citizen Director,” he said flatly.  “I do not believe that Victoria’s production capacity can match ours during the next four months.  We will have the advantage.”

              “Can you guarantee that?” the Citizen Director asked.

              “No, but all of our calculations reach the same conclusion.”

              Nasto turned to Hudis.  “And this new queen?  You are confident of your assessment?”

              Hudis nodded.  “One strong hit and she will shatter like cheap glass.”

              “Very well, then,” said Nasto.  “Attack as soon as you are ready, Admiral.”  His image vanished from the screen as he cut the connection.

              Hudis grinned.  This would cement his role as the Citizen Director’s most important advisor.  He turned to Kaeser.  “Don’t worry, Admiral, it will work,” he assured him.

              Admiral Kaeser gave him a measured look.  Hudis was a fool.  And worse, he did not have the slightest idea what he had just done.