Doom Star: Book 05 - Planet Wrecker (10 page)

DANZIG: I’d like to comment on that, if I may.

HAWTHORNE: This is an open meeting.

DANZIG: We took a gamble then. It resulted in the destruction of a Doom Star. Yet it also resulted in the loss of the farm habitats. Mass starvation has badly shaken Social Unity. I wonder if here is the source of the hostility between PHC and yourself.

CONE: Hostility? It is an urban campaign fought in our cities like a civil war. We cannot afford it. (To Hawthorne) I suggest we call out the military instead of just using the security teams.

DANZIG: No! The tenants of Social Unity are clear. The military must never turn on the society or the society’s guardians.

CONE: PHC no longer guards Social Unity. They attacked the Supreme Commander, thereby attacking the chief representative of the people and abrogating their responsibilities.

DANZIG: When did this attack occur?

CONE: (To Hawthorne) With your permission, sir.

HAWTHORNE: (Nods affirmatively).

CONE: They attempted assassination through proxies on New Baghdad’s Fifty-third Level, during the Supreme Commander’s surprise inspection.

DANZIG: I was not aware of this.

CONE: Internal security has demanded a need-to-know basis.

DANZIG: But we’re talking about dismantling one of the critical pillars of Social Unity. We know the creed. The Party, PHC and the Military are the tripod that upholds the State. If we lose one leg, the State totters. Sir, I highly respect you. But now isn’t the time for a military dictatorship.

HAWTHORNE: I quite agree, Director. Social Unity is the glue that binds our society together. We need that glue more than ever. In the past, PHC has been the watchdog of our hearts. Unfortunately, an insidious infiltration has occurred in Political Harmony Corps. The infiltration began during the Battle for Mars. Each of you is aware of the cyborg treachery there. During the battle, the cyborgs gained mental dominance of key Fleet personnel.

DANZIG: What form of mental dominance?

CONE: Cybernetic implants.

DANZIG: Do you expect us to believe such—

HAWTHORNE: Director, please, I am aware that your security teams have gained access to secret files on the Mars battle. I am also aware that you have sent two family members to
Star Chamber
meetings with other disgruntled directors.

DANZIG: (A three-second hesitation ensues) I have the minutes of those meetings, sir. Tomorrow, at the latest, I was going to turn those minutes over to Specialist Cone. Their actions were and are deplorable. I sent two…family members in order to monitor their treachery. They are cunning people, and extremely paranoid. I believe they have infiltrated your communications net. I feared to alert you too soon, lest I lose access to their inner councils.

HAWTHORNE: You misunderstood me, Director. It’s true I desire knowledge concerning their thoughts, but not as a loyalty test to me.

DANZIG: You are too trusting, sir. Their words bordered on treachery. I recommend you send your bionic squads to their residences.

HAWTHORNE: You surprise me. I should arrest them?

DANZIG: Several of the stated directors wish to make common cause with Political Harmony Corps, and have sent high-level envoys to them.

HAWTHORNE: Which squads do you suggest I employ against them?

DANZIG: These directors have quietly strengthened their bodyguard services. It’s possible you’ll need maximum force to arrest them.

HAWTHORNE: You’ve given me excellent advice. Captain Mune, would you alert your teams and await my go-word.

MUNE: (Rises and leaves the room).

HAWTHORNE: I have—yes, Director Juba-Ryder?

JUBA-RYDER: I do not trust him, sir. (Pointing at Danzig).

HAWTHORNE: While I most certainly do.

JUBA-RYDER: If I could have a word in private with you, sir?

HAWTHORNE: (Shakes head) I have called this meeting for several reasons. We have discussed one of them. The second item is the Highborn. Specifically, how can we tear the initiative out of their hands? They have relentlessly continued their assault on Social Unity. While it is true that Eurasia and Africa can hold out indefinitely, if we are to win the war, we must go on the offensive. Through the years, I have initiated several offensives. I would now like to open the floor to any novel ideas any of you might have.

DANZIG: These are military matters, outside our scope.

HAWTHORNE: You are incorrect, Director. The Party supplies the leadership to the State. Leaders must decide grand strategy. It is then the Military’s function to proceed with the plans using the best means possible.

DANZIG: I stand corrected.

CROWFOOT: We must gain mastery of orbital space. Without it, we shall never be able to launch sustained land offensives.

JUBA-RYDER: (To Hawthorne) Since you will not meet privately with me, sir, I most openly declare my distrust of Director Danzig.

DANZIG: (To Juba-Ryder) I wasn’t aware you had a vendetta against me.

JUBA-RYDER: I do not. But my security services have uncovered high-level communications between you and the Planetary Union bosses on Mars.

HAWTHORNE: (To Juba-Ryder) Come now, Director. This is unwarranted.

DANZIG: (to Juba-Ryder) You forget that I was the spokesman for Social Unity to the Martians.

JUBA-RYDER: Do you still hold this post?

DANZIG: I don’t understand what you’re trying to—

JUBA-RYDER: I lost three good operatives gaining this information. The reason is that you zealously guarded such knowledge. I want to know why these communications are so important to you.

DANZIG: You admit to spying on me?

JUBA-RYDER: We all spy on each other.

HAWTHORNE: (To Danzig) What is the Director talking about?

DANZIG: I assure you it is nothing, sir.

HAWTHORNE: Amuse us then with this nothing.

DANZIG: The Jovians, sir, they—ah, look, your captain has returned.

MUNE: (Reenters the chamber and nods crisply to the Supreme Commander).

HAWTHORNE: You have sent the order, Captain?

MUNE: I have followed your orders, sir.

HAWTHORNE: (to Danzig) You were saying, Director?

DANZIG: Your captain has ordered the attacks on the questionable Directors?

HAWTHORNE: That isn’t your concern, but mine. Now please, you were saying?

DANZIG: I’m feeling ill, sir. Do you mind if I consult with my physician?

HAWTHORNE: Do you need refreshments?

DANZIG: It’s a heart complaint, sir. I brought my personal physician with me. If I could consult her for a few minutes…?

HAWTHORNE: Naturally, I wish you to remain in full health. Before you go, however, I’d like to hear of this Jovian communication.

DANZIG: The Jovians are a stealthy people, sir. I consider them completely untrustworthy.

HAWTHORNE: So there has been communication between Mars and Jupiter?

DANZIG: If one could call it that. They’ve sent questionable queries to the Martians. If you’ll recall, the Jovians had an alliance with Mars over a decade ago.

HAWTHORNE: You’ve aroused my curiosity. What was this query?

DANZIG: (A long pause) The Jovians claim to be seeking an understanding with Social Unity.

HAWTHORNE: The Planetary Union bosses passed this on to you, did they?

DANZIG: It is nothing, sir. I understood it as a ploy. (Puts hand over his heart) I fear I must see my doctor. (Rises) With your permission—

HAWTHORNE: Captain Mune, will you assist the Director to a holding cell. Then take a team and arrest this so-called doctor of his.

DANZIG: (Turns pale) Have I offended you, sir? If so, I gravely apologize.

HAWTHORNE: You’ve offended me on two counts. One, you attempted to trick me into sending my bionic squads into certain ambushes. I did nothing of the kind, but gave the order to see what you would do. Now, you’ve kept secret a possibly critical diplomatic opening with the Jovians. I’d hoped to continue using you as a link with the disgruntled directors. Now I see they plan a coup, possibly in conjunction with what remains of PHC. You’ve chosen the wrong side, Danzig.

DANZIG: Please, sir! Let me make amends. I’ve served you well in the past.

HAWTHORNE: (Signals Mune) I want a full confession. And I want all the information he has on the Jovians.

DANZIG: Yes, yes, you’ll have it. I guarantee it.

MUNE: (Takes hold of Director Danzig and marches him out of the chamber).

HAWTHORNE: (To the others) Let us continue. In the African Sector….

End of File #3

A week after Hawthorne had Director Danzig arrested, far out in the Jupiter System, Marten Kluge still had trouble believing that he’d become the Force-Leader of a capital ship.

“Get ready,” Osadar said. “I’m about to begin docking procedures.”

Marten sat beside her in a shuttle half the size of the former
Mayflower
. They were in mid-orbit around Callisto. Far below against the Galilean moon shined a bright orange light. It was a giant booster-ship making a landing, bringing badly needed supplies to a stranded cleanup crew. The Jovian System was like a kicked-over ant colony. Everyone left alive was busy trying to repair the horrible damage created by the cyborg assault.

Using his screen, Marten glanced at the nearing cargo vessel: the
Thaliana
. It was a huge teardrop-shaped spaceship and belonged to Meta-mines Incorporated. Meta-mines was a consortium with quarter shares by several of the most powerful Helium-3 Barons. Her survival of the war with the cyborgs was attributable to her clever captain. The captain had kept a strict visual of any suspicious vessel that approached too closely. Then she had promptly put the cargo ship behind a planetary body, shielding them from the intruder. The
Thaliana
was the third cargo ship this month to dock by Marten’s warship, and brought critical supplies.

Marten clicked a toggle. In spite of himself, he grinned as he witnessed his meteor-ship yet again. It was a battered warship, and had belonged to the cyborgs. Despite the brutal pounding it had taken on the original attack against Callisto, the meteor-ship had retained its basic shape. It was a rock, a hollowed-out asteroid packed with a repaired fusion engine, compartments, supplies, living quarters, coils, missiles and laser generators.

Through the screen, Marten noted that his ship looked as if it had passed through a floating junkyard. Tubes, oddly-shaped polygons, girders, patrol boats, antennae and trailing lines were attached in a seemingly random fashion. The warship still needed a lot of work to turn it into the combat-vessel it had been. But the warship could move under its own power now, and it could accommodate its crew. Maybe in another month, it would be ready to head for Earth.

“Initiating docking procedures,” Osadar said, clicking a switch.

The shuttle thrummed with power and thrust. Marten sank against his seat, and they eased toward one of the
Thaliana’s
docking tubes….

“What?” Marten asked. The meeting was only seven minutes old, and he was getting angrier by the moment.

He sat in the
Thaliana’s
wardroom, a cramped space with a kidney-shaped metal table taking up most of the area. Riveted stools around the table provided seating. Marten and Osadar had both squeezed around the table and to their present spot.

The cargo-ship’s captain was here. She was short like most Jovians, lacked hair and wore a crumpled brown uniform. She had large eyes, reminding Marten of Nadia. Those eyes the captain carefully kept downcast. She was obviously a cautious woman, a characteristic which had likely won her the position and had certainly allowed her to keep it throughout the cyborg assault.

“No,” Marten said, shaking his head. “I think that’s a bad idea.”

Another Jovian sat on a stool. She was small, although not as small as Chief Strategist Tan. As Tan often did, the Jovian woman wore a sheer silk gown. It revealed a gymnast’s body underneath—small firm breasts, a tight belly and smooth limbs. She had dark curls and an aloof attitude. Affixed to her forehead was a jet-black stone.

Osadar had informed Marten about the stone’s significance. On Callisto and under the Dictates, it had meant an Ur-philosopher of the Third Rank.

“
Ur
—that means she’s greater than a regular philosopher?” Marten had asked as they’d first entered the chamber.

“No,” Osadar had whispered back. “She is, or was, a philosopher-in-training, likely groomed for the highest level of governance.”

Marten’s anger had begun then, and in these few minutes, it had been steadily getting worse. Tan was changing the game on him. Maybe as bad, he hated dealing with anyone remotely connected to Callisto’s philosophers. Their arrogance approached that of the Highborn, although it was less physically oriented and more cerebral.

The gowned Jovian—her name was Circe—presently clicked her fingernails on the metal table.

Three myrmidons flanked her on each side. At the clicking, the six gene-warped warriors stiffened, and their dark eyes seemed to become wet with anticipation. It was an intimidating experience, and the room was too close and confining. Marten might draw fast enough to shoot two of them, but that was no guarantee he’d kill those two. Osadar was a cyborg, but he doubted she could tear apart the remaining four before the myrmidons finished the two of them.