Escape 3: Defeat the Aliens (6 page)

“Striking tactical and strategic elements there,” Poindexter murmured. “Concerning the four ships you leave behind. If you reclaim the nine former vets for your boarding team, who will be the new captains and crew of those ships?”

Jane nodded slowly. “I’ve given that some thought. When we were last here you and SOCOM gave us volunteers to round out the crew numbers on our three captured ships.” She held up a fist. She raised two fingers. “Those folks are a Marine Special Operations guy and an Air Force Special Tactics woman on the
Seafloat
, another Marine Special Operations and an Air Force PJ, both gals, on the
Pointe Du Hoc
, and two Ranger guys on the
Chapultepec Castle
. Master Chief Joe Batigula, as captain of the
Manila Bay
, has spent the last three days training six Slinkeroo volunteers in ship function posts.” Jane laid down her open hand. “Our six SOCOM volunteers have learned the basics of crew function posts during our trips to the Market world and out to the Slinkeroo system. They are capable people. While I am sure the current captains of those ships will regret leaving their ships, they’ve all done covert boarding before. They are the best of the best. Which is why I am claiming them for my solo invasion of the enemy base.”

Poindexter blinked brown eyes. “That makes a crew of two for three of the ships. The fourth has no one named. Though I assume the Slinkeroo volunteers could add to the crews of the four ships left behind. We still come up short. Suggestions?”

Jane nodded slowly. “We are bringing back 93 freed Captives. I suggest we and the other ship captains ask for combat volunteers. Any who do not wish to fight can be delivered to the Geneva headquarters of the UN, there to be housed in accordance with the Geneva Conventions.” She shrugged. “Eventually, after we defeat the enemy fleet, one of our Collector ships could start the process of taking freed Captives back to their home systems.”

“That sounds satisfactory,” Poindexter said, her tone thoughtful. “I assume the enemy crews from your captured ships will be housed in containment cells on their ships, for later deposit on Mars.”

“Exactly so,” Jane said quickly. “Do I have your permission to alert my captains to their new assignments?”

Surprise showed briefly on Poindexter’s face. “Your vet captains do not know this part of your plan?”

“They do not,” Jane said. “At the Slinkeroo system I invited their input on whether to return home or to go straight to Kepler 62 for an attack on any ships gathered there. Their input was useful. I made the decision to return home. Only in the last day have I put together the four stages of my plan to cope with this new enemy fleet. I feel certain each of them will volunteer to join me on our covert scouting mission into enemy territory.”

The black woman brushed a wrinkled hand through the tight curls of her black hair, then sighed. “You know your people best. As for the four captains and other vets on the ships in your fleet, share with them all details of your plan. However, I cannot approve the plan until I consult with General McAuley and President Hartman. By the time you arrive in Earth orbit, 50 or so hours from now, I will have an answer for you.”

Jane blinked, then the muscles in her face relaxed. “Understood. I will coordinate with my ship captains and the vets serving on board. Our travel time down to Earth will give each captain time to work with their SOCOM and Slinkeroo volunteers,” she said slowly. “On routine matters, once we arrive in orbit we will need the standard boomer sub loadout of food, fuel, personal mail and such. The
Blue Sky’s
two transports can bring the supplies up to orbit. Should they go to Peterson or to SOCOM at MacDill in Florida?”

“Send them to MacDill, after you arrive,” Poindexter said, her attention wavering as the other four JCS chiefs crowded close to her, clearly wanting to discuss Jane’s plan.

“I will,” Jane said. “General, a final question. Has the Air Force made any headway in producing more x-ray laser warheads for our thermonuke missiles? Those lasers could disable the crew on many enemy ships.”

Poindexter looked intently at Jane, all of her attention focused on Bill’s wife. “We have indeed made progress in setting up a production line for x-ray laser thermonukes at the Pantex plant in Texas. Los Alamos has supplied Pantex with a final warhead design, based on the combat performance of the prototype x-ray warheads fired by the
USS Louisiana
during the battle against the last enemy fleet. We have plenty of modified plutonium pits for the design.” She paused as the new Navy CNO whispered something in her ear. “We should be able to arm every spacegoing vessel with x-ray laser warheads by the time you return from Kepler 62.”

“Excellent news,” Jane said, a quick smile now showing. “With your permission,
Blue Sky
terminates this discussion.”

“Permission given. Stay safe.” The Air Force chief turned away to consult with the new Chief of Naval Operations.

Her image vanished from the comlink holo. Returning to the holo were the faces of Jake, Mack, Janice and Colonel Minetowa. Bill checked the true space holo to the upper right of his Weapons control pillar, noticed they were closer to Pluto than earlier, then looked back to Jane.

“Captain,” Bill called. “If we can get the Los Alamos warhead design from Peterson, I am sure the AIs on each of our fleet ships can adapt their current thermonuke warhead designs to be x-ray laser emissive. That would make our MITV torps more deadly.”

Jane’s holo image looked his way. “One more detail. XO, take care of it when we arrive in orbit.” She looked away from his post. “Captains, you heard the news. How have your SOCOM volunteers worked out while we’ve been away?”

In the comlink holo, Jake blinked gray eyes. “They’ve done fine. They’ve joined our Command Bridge crew. Francis and Alonzo are happy for the help.”

“Same here,” said Mack, his stocky form filling his portion of the holo. “Apsara and Andre did the training. The two gals from MacDill have done great.”

Janice relaxed her muscular tenseness. “Larry and George handled their training. They’re part of my Command Bridge crew now,” she said, her tone a melodious soprano. She blinked black eyes. “Looks like we’re going to have a good three months before the enemy arrives. We should have more space-going subs up and ready to fight by then.”

Bill turned away from his Weapons holo graphic to focus on the three homebound captains. Janice’s news surprised him. When the
Blue Sky
and its original fleet prepared to leave Earth, his wife had reclaimed one of the two Magfield spacedrive engines they’d given the Navy so it could put two battle subs in space. The
USS
Louisiana
had lost her space-going ability as a result. He doubted American industry had been able to gear up and begin producing Magfield engines from the specs Jane had shared with the JCS. It had been only a week since they’d left the Solar system.

“Oh,” said Jane, her tone puzzled. “Where are the Magfield engines coming from?”

Janice looked like the cat who had caught all the mice. She smiled, even surprising Bill, who had never seen the woman SEAL smile at anything. “From the transports of our three ships. There are three per ship. That makes nine Magfield spacedrives we’ve delivered to Norfolk. They’re in the process of being mounted inside nine of America’s Trident subs. Those subs are also getting topside railguns and the mounting of transport ship nose lasers. They’ll be ready before the enemy fleet arrives.”

Bill liked the innovative action taken by the three ship captains they’d left behind. “Janice,” he called. “Those subs will be more powerful than a transport outfitted with a single nose laser and belly missile launcher. I assume the subs will be carrying their full load of Trident II D5 ICBMs?”

Jane glanced his way, looking irritated by his interruption of her consultation with the three local Collector ships. She frowned. “Janice, will the Tridents have a full ICBM loadout?”

“They will,” the stocky, muscular woman said.

“Good to hear,” Jane said. “We will have you captains over for dinner on the
Blue Sky
after we arrive in orbit. Sharon Richardson, wife of our former CNO, has become our social hostess and a fine chef.” His wife’s posture looked relaxed now, after the stress of being on stage before the Air Force general appointed by the president to command all spaceborne activities. “We also have some exotic Slinkeroo wine that packs a nice wallop. Until we arrive.
Blue Sky
signing off.”

The holo images of the three captains vanished, leaving only the thoughtful image of Colonel Minetowa. He smiled. “Captain Yamaguchi, any chance you can drop off a bottle of that Alien booze, before you head in-system?”

Jane chuckled. “Of course we can. We traded for fifty bottles of the stuff. Our new alliance members were happy to trade, once they got a taste of our Tuborg and Heineken beer. One bottle of beer for one bottle of
mejian
wine.” She looked over at Bill, a twinkle in her eyes. “My XO handles miscellaneous duties. He’ll deliver the bottle of wine in person.”

Minetowa looked surprised, then happy. “Of course! We are happy to welcome any visitor to our little base.”

“Good,” Jane said, her tone going formal. “
Blue Sky
out.”

The comlink holo lost the image of the Pluto commander. In its place came the image of Jane. Who looked ahead.

“Engines Chief, make one-tenth lightspeed for Pluto. I wish to get there quickly, then head inward to Earth. I suspect we are all eager to see a living world, before we again head out into the Great Beyond.”

“Magfield engines moving to full power,” hissed Time Marker.

Bill sat back in his seat, his peripheral vision taking in the system graphic data on his left and his weapons status indicators on the holo in front of him. On his left Chester kept busy with something on his Negotiator’s control pillar. Perhaps the man was reviewing the text of the diplo-talk that made up the written mutual defense agreement the man had signed with the Prime Elder. No doubt the text had swiped large sections from the NATO member agreement and statement of member obligations. No matter.

What left him musing as they hit a speed of 67.1 million miles per hour were the implications of his wife’s covert scouting plan for infiltrating the new Collector ship fleet. How would she get other fleet ships to send out collector pods, so the
Blue Sk
y could send out pods loaded with boarding teams? More vitally, could they train Star Traveler in the mental thought-sheltering that would be vital when their ship joined up with the Alien fleet? Fooling the fleet’s commander with an ancient holo of another ship captain was far easier than fooling the ship minds of the ships gathered at Kepler 62. It would only take one ship mind like the one in the Slinkeroo system to destroy their false identity effort. But if their AI could secretly convert most or all Alien fleet ship minds to opponents of slave-taking, that would make the invasion of Sol system an exercise in duplicity and sneakiness. He’d always had a talent for sneakiness, according to his instructors at Coronado. And his SEAL Team Seven teammates. The question they all now faced was how sneaky could a lone starship be after arriving at a star system where the Aliens knew there were at least five Collector ships controlled by humans? And knew there was at least one AI who’d rebelled against its slave-taking duties. Could he do a mind-to-mind linkup with Star Traveler, so the AI could see how humans can lie, dissemble, deceive and be sneaky? He told himself this was a task only he could do.

CHAPTER FIVE

Jane sat alone in the front living room part of the habitat room suite she shared with Bill. She was taking a break after the stressful consult with Poindexter and the three ship captains who had stayed home. While it was encouraging to hear that more spacegoing Trident subs would be ready to help in the defense of Earth, she had been putting off another stressful duty. Time to talk with her four fleet captains and tell them she wanted them to give up being captains of their own starships. Would she ever give up control of the
Blue Sky
? Never! So why did she think the fleet captains would agree to a drop in rank to become boarding crews? Bill’s buddies from Jack’s Deep Six saloon had already done the boarding crew job when they’d infiltrated the six enemy ships led by Diligent Taskmaster. Now, her plan required them to give up the joy of being a ship commander and go back to being covert boarders. While her plan gave them the chance to take over four enemy ships, still, that was not the same as commanding ships they had already named for famous military battles. Ships they’d taken into battle at the Market world. Time to earn her keep.

“Star Traveler, project a holo into this room. Then put out a neutrino comlink call to the captains of our fleet ships.”

The ceiling speaker hummed. “Sending signal to the captains of starships
Seafloat
,
Pointe Du Hoc
,
Chapultepec Castle
and
Manila Bay
. Projecting hologram.”

A woman-tall holo took form in front of her, its whitish glow illuminating the wooden furniture, sofa, recliner and wall tapestries she and Bill had brought up from Earth before they’d left for Mars and the stars beyond. In one corner, near the kitchen alcove that replicated the Food Chamber’s auto-chef abilities, stood a fish bowl filled with baby carp. They were intensely colorful fish. Which would soon grow large enough to warrant transferring them to the pool in the Water Pool Chamber. For now, though, they were her sole pets. Beautiful critters she could talk to, in private, sharing her worries, doubts and needs. Things that Bill would surely love to hear. But her spouse had enough on his plate, planning for their covert entry into system Kepler 62. The man had thought ahead to how Star Traveler might deceive fellow ship minds that it automatically spoke to whenever it arrived in a new star system. He was working on a plan, he’d told her. This job was her duty. The holo blinked. Four people, dressed in Type III woodland NWU camos, took form in the holo.

“Fleet captain, good to see you,” called soft-spoken Stefano. The trim, tight-muscled SEAL always spoke softly when he addressed anyone. Which was not often.

Alicia of the sandy brown ponytail looked away from talking with someone on her Command Bridge. The Ranger smiled big. She had become Jane’s best confidant, a woman who had persevered through the male-led Ranger training, just as Jane had moved up the ranks in the supposedly liberal Air Force. In the high tech work she and others had done at Peterson, ability often mattered more than gender. And a woman now headed the AF. Poindexter had even risked her own active-duty son during the six ship battle above Earth. “Hey gal!” called Alicia from her command seat, her amber eyes bright. “What’s up?”

“Yeah,” called the gravelly voice of Frank, his bulldog face focusing intently on Jane. “We just left Pluto. What’s up?”

“If you all will shut your traps, she’ll likely tell you,” called heavyset Joe. The Coast Guard master chief was someone who liked to eat, though his big belly had shrunk during their interstellar assignments. The man had a stash of flipcard recipes he had covertly shared with Jane, who loved surprising Bill with a fancy meal.

She smiled, hoping it didn’t look as forced as she felt. “Hi gang. Just finished my consult with General Poindexter. She was happy when she heard about the Captives we freed, and liked how we’d captured another Collector ship.” Jane noticed how the expressions on the four combat-blooded vets had gone serious focused. They knew more was coming than just some good news. “She understood the bad news about the impending enemy attack. I filled her in on a plan I’ve developed during our trip to Sol system. You folks knew I wanted to head back out and sneak into the enemy star system. What you have not heard are the specifics of the plan I proposed to Poindexter. It has four stages.”

Minutes later, after they’d heard all she’d told the Air Force chief, each of them was quietly thoughtful. Joe chewed on his lower lip. Stefano’s pale brown eyes were bright. Frank’s thick black eyebrows were mushed together. Alicia showed a half-grin.

“Very daring,” Stefano volunteered, surprising her.

“I hope so,” Jane said, trying not to look as desperate as she felt. “Well? Will the four of you and your fellow vets give up your ships and come with me when I take the
Blue Sky
outward?”

“Has the JCS approved your plan?” Frank asked, his wide shoulders hunching as he leaned forward in his command seat.

“Not yet,” Jane said. “Poindexter liked it. I could tell. But formal approval awaits her consult with General McAuley and President Hartman. No surprise there.”

“Sister, I’m willing,” said Alicia. “I assume those of us with partners or spouses can bring them aboard the
Blue Sky
?”

“Of course!” Jane said quickly. She licked her lips, wondering if she sounded too needy, versus the sober commander she’d always tried to show to everyone she worked with.

Joe, who at 51 was the oldest of the group, nodded slowly. “I’m on board. Have loved being captain of my own ship. But I need a break from electric shocks. Having a Command Bridge crew made up only of walking snakes can try a man.”

Jane felt relief. It was Joe’s nature to joke about a serious matter. And she’d thought Alicia would join up. The other two? She fixed on them.

Frank gave a sigh. “I’m willing. It’s thanks to you and Bill that any of us are now in space. I’ve loved running this ship. Willing to turn it over to my SOCOM volunteers and whomever joins them. Anyway, your plan gives us a chance to capture more ships for Earth. If we are to defeat a giant fleet, we need
more
Collector ships.”

“Thank you, Frank,” Jane said softly. “And you also Alicia and Joe.” She fixed on Bill’s SEAL buddy.

Stefano’s thoughtful look became intense. “You are the fleet commander. Of course I will follow any order from you. And frankly, I like solo and small unit ops. We all do. We are all trained for them. Count me in.”

Relief washed over Jane. Electric tingles ran down her arms to her fingers. The fast beating of her heart slowed. Maybe she was indeed a good leader of people.

“Thank you all. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. We are at war, and we all follow orders, but everyone on your ships and on the
Blue Sky
is a volunteer. It matters to me that you each be given a choice in matters that affect your future.”

“We know that,” Stefano said softly.

It was clear they all knew how much she cared for them. “Good. Spread the word to your other saloon vets. And reassure them there are enough habitat rooms here for their spouses or partners. When we leave the Solar system, no one’s partner will be left behind!”

“Understood, will do,” they each said quickly, their manner thoughtful as they looked ahead to a dangerous future.

“We will meet again, in person, once we are in Earth orbit. Until then, enjoy the trip home. Jupiter is close to our homeward vector, so enjoy some stellar eye candy. Fleet captain out.”

The four images vanished from the holo.

“Do I maintain the hologram?” asked Star Traveler.

“No. Remove it.”

The holo vanished, leaving Jane with a cold sweat, trembling fingers and intense relief that her fellow ship captains had shown their confidence in her and in her leadership. Now, she had to live up to that confidence.

♦   ♦   ♦

Bill felt hot as he sat at his Weapons station, wearing a woolen Service Dress Blue coat, necktie, white shirt and white combo cap. On his left coat sleeve were sewn his CPO rating and service stripes. On his left breast were pinned his field service ribbons, his rifle sharpshooter badge, parachutist badge and his SEAL trident. Below them hung a Purple Heart and the Navy Cross he’d been awarded all too publicly by President Melody Hartman. The bronze cross pattée was something he cherished, but had not worn openly since the award ceremony. He was no show-off. But Jane expected their holo conference with the Joint Chiefs of Staff to possibly include the president. As a result, Chester wore the same outfit, though his sleeves carried the gold rings of a vice admiral. Shoulder tabs completed the former CNO’s outfit. Jane, however, sat in her command seat at six feet above the Command Bridge metal deck. She wore her Air Force Blue coat, light blue shirt, tie tab, blue plastic name tag, service ribbons, captain’s bars, parachutist badge and sharpshooter badge, the latter two being something he had not realized she’d earned. Like him she was not one to talk up her awards. But now, like him, she wore her own Air Force Cross and Air and Space Campaign medals. None of them wore caps or hats. The rest of their Command Bridge crew were Aliens who either wore nothing, wore leather straps for tool support, or wore brown cargo shorts. Like those worn by Bright Sparkle and Learned Escape.

“Arrival in orbit complete,” chittered their navigator Lofty Flyer from her station at the far end of the line of function stations that filled the front of the Command Bridge. Multiple holos half-enclosed her duty station, just as similar holo groupings fronted everyone else’s control pillar and flexmetal work seat. Bill admired her dexterity as she moved them through the crowded low Earth orbit space that had lots of old space junk and hundreds of active sats moving in an equatorial circle around his world. “Ship is holding station above Peterson Air Force Base, province of Colorado, Human clan of United States of America.” The brown-furred flying squirrel looked at one of her holos, then spoke again. “All four fleet ships have assumed position around the
Blue Sky
.”

“Navigator, thank you,” Jane said calmly, her image in his comlink holo showing a relaxed command persona.

The persona was something he knew she worked at projecting. Bill glanced left at his system graphic holo. It showed the green dots of their five ships holding position at 200 miles above Colorado Springs, with three more green dots in a similar orbit just twenty miles away. The ships of Jake, Mack and Janice had joined up with them per orders from Peterson. On his right his comlink holo flickered, then the images of all seven captains appeared in small icons that surrounded Jane’s central image. Bill checked his system graphic again.

“Captain,” he called. “No other Collector ships are present in the Solar system beyond the eight of us. The
USS Minnesota
attack sub is orbiting the Moon. It’s involved in supplying the base we set up there in partnership with the Chinese, Japanese and Russians.” His true space holo was filled with the glorious brown and green landscape of the Rockies, while his Weapons status holo showed Green Operational. “All weapons stations on this ship are operational. We have an antimatter reservoir able to supply four quick AM shots. This ends my Executive Officer report.”

“XO, thank you,” she said, her tone mild but firm. She looked up. “Star Traveler, establish a neutrino comlink with General Harriet Poindexter at Peterson. Include the image icons of our other ship captains along with my image when you send the contact signal.”

“Complying. Link established.” A second passed. “Response signal coming in. Transferring to comlink holo.”

Bill’s comlink holo flickered again, then Poindexter’s image filled the middle of the holo. The Peterson signal included other folks. Sitting to either side of her, at her tactical display table, were the other chiefs. At the woman’s left were JCS Chairman Paul J. McAuley, who looked calm and thoughtful. A change from when he’d gone beet red at Jane’s defiance of him upon their first return home. Beyond him sat the Japanese-American general guy who was the Army chief. Someone named Fujiwara, he recalled. Further left sat a woman whose nameplate ID’d her as the Chief of the National Guard Bureau. That was a change from the guy who’d been there last time. To Poindexter’s right were the Navy CNO, the Marine commandant and the vice chairman of the JCS, who looked to be someone from Army. Poindexter rounded out the seven person ensemble as chief of staff of the Air Force. Behind the big cheese grouping were fifteen or so captains, colonels, majors, a one star general and two admirals who hung about the computer work stations of the airmen who kept tabs on everything in space above Earth. The airmen were members of the 21
st
Operations Group, Jane’s old unit. Briefly Bill wondered what the food tab might be for such an august gathering. Then he caught sight of the DEFCON alert panel at the back of the room. It was set at DEFCON Two’s Fast Pace logo. The sign that all American armed forces were ready to go to all-out nuclear war within six hours or less sobered his divergent thoughts.

In the comlink holo, Jane stood up on her pedestal and saluted. Bill and Chester did the same. “Starship
Blue Sky
and Captains Yamaguchi, Slowzenski, Hodson, Watanabe, Cordova, Hoffman, Wurtzman and Batigula reporting as ordered,” she said. “All eight Collector ships are fully operational and combat ready. General, we stand ready for our orders.”