Doom Star: Book 05 - Planet Wrecker (22 page)

CONE: With due respect, Director, you are failing to grasp the gravity of the situation. Social Unity is doomed on two fronts. The Highborn are crushing us. Now the cyborgs wish our extinction. There is only one possibility. We must call a truce with the Highborn, attach the Fifth Fleet to the Doom Stars and attack the asteroids. Whatever asteroids fight through them, Earth Defense must destroy with merculite missiles and proton beams.

JUBA-RYDER: I find your words incredible and the idea unsustainable. Surely, you are aware that the Highborn are mass murderers.

CONE: It is better to fight with murderers against those practicing species elimination. The Supreme Commander is correct to tell us that the battle in the Jupiter System points to this truth. The Jovians united with the Highborn and achieved victory over the cyborgs.

CROWFOOT: Will the Highborn see it that way?

HAWTHORNE: That is the question. Specialist Cone speaks too pessimistically concerning the conclusion of our struggle against the Highborn. But I accept the logic of her last statement. If we are to save the Earth, we must unite with the Highborn.

JUBA-RYDER: The genetic supremacists have murdered billions. We cannot possibly trust them.

HAWTHORNE: I never suggested we
trust
them. It may be that our salvation will occur in the fight against the cyborgs. For instance: what if the cyborgs destroy the Doom Stars for us?

CONE: I doubt the Highborn will sacrifice their warships for Earth, at least, not until all our spaceships are destroyed first.

HAWTHORNE: They aren’t gods.

CONE: Agreed. But they have proven to be our superiors in every endeavor.

HAWTHORNE: Your words now approach sedition, Security Specialist. Curb them at once.

CONE: (nods)

HAWTHORNE: We have little time left. The asteroids move at outrageous speeds. Therefore, I will attempt to open direct communication with Grand Admiral Cassius. Are there any further comments? No? Director, I see your hand. Do you have anything new to add to your previous objections? If not, please do not waste my time with a reiteration of your qualms.

JUBA-RYDER: (lowers her hand and stares at a spot on the conference table)

HAWTHORNE: Good. Then I declare this meeting adjourned.

Grand Admiral Cassius was aboard the
Julius Caesar
in near-Earth orbit over the middle of North America. The Doom Star supplied heavy laser fire against a cybertank charge out of Kansas City. The Tenth and Fifteenth FEC Corps together with the Twenty-Third Jump-Jet Division spearheaded a final assault against this stubborn knot of resistance. The cybertank charge no doubt attempted to blunt the FEC offensive.

Kansas City had been the focal point for the middle North American stronghold. During the conquest of the continent, the Highborn had bypassed Kansas City, covering the approaches with secondary units. The strategy had been classic Blitzkrieg, flowing through weak areas to cut-off and isolate the strongholds. Then they’d besieged the strongholds at their leisure.

“Impressive equipment,” said Cassius. He sat in his command shell, examining holoimages of the cybertanks. The one he watched had multiple turrets and independent tracks. It likely weighed well over one hundred tons. The laser beam from the Heavens was red-colored on the holoimage. Unbelievably, the cybertank’s armor withstood the laser for several seconds. It even sprayed a cloud of prismatic crystals over itself.

“Amazing,” said Cassius.

Then the heavy laser that could fire in a coherent beam an easy one million kilometers burned through the prismatic crystals and punched through the reflective and composite armor. Still, the cybertank launched missiles at nearby FEC troops and chugged thousands of rounds of explosive shells. Wisely, the infantry hugged the ground, staying out-of-sight. Several jet-jump flyers weren’t so lucky, but tumbled to the ground as bloody chunks of meat. Then the Doom Star’s primary laser destroyed the cybertank, turning the massive vehicle into a mound of slag.

The other cybertanks had already turned around, and roared back toward their underground bunkers.

“It’s too late for that,” Cassius said. “They should have kept charging, doing what damage they could. Now they will die uselessly. Premen are such fools.”

“Your Excellency,” said tall Scipio. “I’m receiving a strange message from the premen.”

“They wish to surrender, do they?” said Cassius.

“No sir. It isn’t from the resistance forces. Sir,” said Scipio. “This is a direct message from Supreme Commander Hawthorne of Social Unity.”

“Verify that,” said Cassius.

“I already have, sir. All indications are this is Hawthorne. Just a minute, sir,” said Scipio. “His office is sending us a download.”

“Put it into a lone system, unattached to the ship. We don’t want them infecting us with a computer virus.”

“It’s done Your Excellency,” said Scipio.

“What does the file say?”

The tall Highborn—Scipio—studied his board. He was silent for a time, his mannerism indicating absorbed interest. Then his bionic hand smashed against his board as he cursed loudly.

It brought Cassius to his feet. In several strides, he was at Scipio’s station. “Show me the information.”

Scipio turned harsh features toward him. “The war—” He shook his head. “This is beyond reason.”

“Show me,” said Cassius, as he put a powerful hand on one of Scipio’s shoulders, squeezing until the tall Highborn squirmed in probable pain.

Scipio pressed a button and wrenched himself free of the Grand Admiral’s grip. He stood and indicated that Cassius sit in his spot.

Cassius did so, and he began to watch video files concerning the ice-asteroid and the larger asteroid-cluster behind it. He received the information in silence, reading the accompanying text many times faster than a preman could absorb such a quantity data.

“Supreme Commander Hawthorne wishes to speak to you,” Scipio said.

Cassius stared at the tall Highborn. Scipio’s features had turned ashen-colored. The Saturn-originated asteroids, their unnatural speeds, the possibility they were armed as the Jovian moon Carme had been…. The cyborg strategy was obvious. It was ruthless, cold-blooded and brilliant.

With an oath, Cassius surged to his feet. He felt lightheaded. All his plans of Earth conquest—with a violent mental shove, he pushed those plans aside. He was the epitome of Highborn excellence. Quick mental acuity, the ability to shift onto a new strategic axis, those were the marks of Highborn superiority. Hardly aware of what he was doing, Cassius strode to his shell.

“Put Hawthorne through,” Cassius heard himself say. “Let’s see what this so-called preman genius wishes to tell us.”

“Shall I order a halt to the primary laser burning out cybertanks?” asked Scipio.

“Negative,” said Cassius. “Our attacks in North America have no bearing on Social Unity. North America is our territory now. We are merely destroying rebels.”

Cassius settled himself into his large shell. As he’d moved across the bridge, he’d been assessing the Saturn-sent asteroid strike. He breathed deeply, calming himself. Under ordinary conditions, he wouldn’t speak with an enemy commander now. Hawthorne had him at a psychological disadvantage. Yes, the Supreme Commander of Premen must have already taken time to ingest the news. This preman was also clever. Cassius mustn’t allow himself to forget that. But Hawthorne was still just a preman while Cassius knew himself to be the greatest Highborn of them all. So even though the preman had the psychological advantage, he would engage in direct communication. He accounted it as further evidence of his own genius.

“Ready,” said Cassius. He pressed a button on the armrest of his shell.

Before him appeared a holoimage of James Hawthorne’s head. The preman had a longer cranium than average, with a high forehead indicating intelligence. There was thinning, sandy-colored hair on top of his head and discolored bags under the man’s eyes.

He’s tired. The war relentlessly grinds him down
. Cassius nodded. How could any preman hope to pit himself against the greatest Highborn without a heavy mental and physical price to pay? To be outmatched in every way—it must be a galling thing. To know that doom and abject defeat was all that awaited him…. Cassius could almost pity Hawthorne. Such a weak emotion was not part of his genetic inheritance, however. Instead, Cassius grinned inwardly. This preman had surely reached the end of his strength. Yes, this last news of the asteroid strike must have crushed his remaining spirit.

“I am Supreme Commander James Hawthorne,” the holoimage head said.

He has a firm voice, one filled with authority. Yes, whatever is happening to him, this preman is still used to being obeyed
.

Cassius knew it would be so.

“I hope you have read the information we sent you,” Hawthorne said.

“I have,” said Cassius.

“I trust you understand its significance,” said Hawthorne.

Was the Supreme Commander trying to be insulting? Surely, Hawthorne must be aware that Highborn ingested information at five times the rate that a preman could. Why then did Hawthorne speak this way to him? What was the hidden agenda here?

Cassius waited, letting the full force of his powerful personality effect the preman.

“…We have been at war a long time,” Hawthorne said. “We have inflicted heavy damage on each other.”

Trust a preman to exaggerate. The Highborn had inflicted the heavy damage. The premen had done more in the way of gashing a man’s ribs in a knife-fight where the loser drags himself away with his guts in his hands.

“Now, however, our struggle against each other becomes moot,” said Hawthorne. “The cyborgs have launched asteroids against both of us, hoping no doubt for our unified extinction.”

It was time to let this preman know the true situation. “We Highborn are in no danger,” said Cassius. “We can easily ferry our ground troops into space and avoid destruction.”

“You would lose the Earth then.”

“Only temporarily,” said Cassius.

“The factories would be destroyed,” said Hawthorne, becoming visibly agitated, “as well as the billions of workers needed to run them. Of what use would the hulk of the planet be to you then?”

“Most of the important factories are automated,” said Cassius. “We could land afterward, begin the long-term cleansing of the air and rebuild the least-damaged factories.”

Hawthorne blinked several times. “Are you saying the asteroid-strike doesn’t matter to you?”

“He needs obedience training,” a Highborn in the background said.

Cassius motioned the Highborn to silence. He felt likewise, but it was foolish to utter such words in their presence. That was one of the reasons why he was First. He could control his irritation, a point of personal strength. The preman had questioned him as if they were equals. That was terribly insulting. If a preman had spoken to him like this in his presence, Cassius would have killed him. Since, however, this preman represented the billions of unconquered under-men, he could contain his rage.

“Naturally,” Cassius said, “I wish the Earth to remain intact.”

“Intact?” asked Hawthorne. “What about the billions of human lives at risk?”

“Do you cherish these lives?” asked Cassius.

“Yes,” Hawthorne said in a clipped manner.

“Then surrender immediately and I shall save you and the billions of pre…of Earthlings.”

Hawthorne shook his head. “You’re not in a position to demand our surrender.”

Cassius stiffened at the tone.

“You’ve conquered the islands of Earth and North and South America.” Hawthorne stopped abruptly and took a deep breath. Then he took a second one and began to speak more slowly. “Billons of humans depend upon you. There are also millions of men in your FEC armies. Are you willing to flee Earth to save yourselves but let your slaves perish?”

“Save your insults, Supreme Commander, and speak to the issue of your call. Remember, you asked to speak with me, not me to you.”

“…You’re a brilliant strategist,” Hawthorne said shortly. “Your conquests prove that. It is therefore self-evident that you see the strategic ramifications of this attack. No. I cannot believe that you would willingly abandon Earth and let the cyborgs obliterate it. Your greatest industrial base would vanish in a moment. Over time, with the Outer Planets in their grip, the cyborgs would out-produce you and finally hunt you down like vermin.”

“I have yet to hear any proposals,” Cassius said coldly. If the preman continued with this tone, he would track down the radio signal and send a Hellburner to it. Let them feel the raw power of the Highborn fist.

Hawthorne stared at him. “My proposal is simple. We must pool our resources and deflect the asteroids from Earth.”

“What
resources
can you possibly possess in the arena of space combat?” asked Cassius.

“Our Fifth Fleet is intact, as well as the Mars Battlefleet. Those battleships are already accelerating,” said Hawthorne. “I am hours away from ordering a missile launch. So you are incorrect in implying Social Unity lacks space armaments.”