The Desert of Stars (The Human Reach) (20 page)

Something about Ramesh’s story lightened Donovan’s mood, and
he asked him about other gifts he had brought up, but before the wing commander
could answer, the first briefer approached the podium.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Captain Deke Blackburn of the United
States Navy, chief of the joint intel cell for the … whatever we’re calling
ourselves.” The audience chuckled; many of the officers present were all part
of the thrown-together organization that would manage information-sharing and
operations between all the newly friendly states; one minor matter still in
contention was what to call the body.

The overhead lights dimmed, giving the room a dusky feel,
with many faces colored by whatever was on the handheld in front of them. A map
of great Asia appeared on the main screen.

At first glance, things did not look well for the People’s
Republic of China and their allies in the United Republic of Korea. Markers
indicating Japanese and American submarines blockaded the Chinese coast; only
the Yellow Sea remained firmly in enemy hands. PLA troops were arrayed in the
coastal cities as a defense against invasion; others were on the Korean
peninsula, ready to react should Japan make another attempt at Pusan. The
Korean island of Jeju was noted as occupied by Japanese forces, the only
meaningful territory on Earth that had changed hands, and remained so, since
the war started.

To the south, little green, white and saffron flags marked
the rough positions of the Indian Army corps. Several were located in the
annexed areas of Punjab; others along the passable sections of the Himalayas.
Little red flags that marked Chinese units were shown moving to positions
across the border.
So much of their army is committed
, Donovan thought.

China’s western reaches had fewer forces. Although Beijing
worried about another Uighur rebellion, the various ‘Stans were friendly
states, and they held the vital rail and Caspian Sea links between China and
the neutral Middle Eastern countries, and the wealth of Africa beyond. Mongolia
was carefully offering no threat to anyone, leaving the long lumpy boundary between
Manchuria and Siberia as the critical front with Russia.

But as Blackburn described the map, Donovan’s skepticism
grew.
This presentation isn’t an objective assessment; it’s aimed at
building confidence in the coalition.
Russia’s army was far smaller than
China’s, but the flags marking Russian divisions were as large as those marking
Chinese corps. And he knew that the Chinese and Korean navies had run the coastal
blockades on multiple occasions, and twice they had concentrated their forces
and blown wide gaps in the allied line and sent who-knows-what through. Moreover,
India and China were not formally in a shooting war; and China and Korea still
had a great space fleet at Venus’ trailing Trojan point, waiting for a chance
to retake Earth orbit.

But even with all that, Donovan couldn’t ignore the reality:
The Chinese were running out of ground forces, and most of the units in
Manchuria were labeled as reserves. The thought reminded him of the
omnipresent, unspoken worry, that one side or the other might try to use
nuclear weapons on Earth’s surface if it felt its back was truly pressed
against the wall.
Two years of war, and it’s suddenly not as unthinkable as
it was after the Rock and Delhi and Grozny.

Blackburn finished, and two flag officers – a U.S. Marine Corps
general and a Russian space forces admiral – ascended the podium.

The general, a buzz-cut two-star named McCormack, said, “The
addition of the Russians as co-belligerents in the conflict has freed up a
number of assets previously required to ensure supremacy in near-Earth space.
We are forming two international combined joint task forces, which we believe
will be able to tip the strategic balance in our favor at two critical points
of conflict, one within the Solar System, the other beyond.”

On the screen behind him, the map vanished, and a list of
ship hull numbers and unit designations appeared.
Why couldn’t they just
list the names of the ships?
Donovan thought peevishly. The list included
Japanese, American, Russian and Iranian vessels.

“CJTF Nineteen will be composed of thirty-seven combat
ships, fourteen combat support craft, and six battalion-sized troop carriers.
The flagship will be the
Kagoshima,
with Admiral Hirayama in command. I
will command the Marine forces.”

“Your Marine units are specialized for combat on non-terran
worlds, aren’t they?” Ramesh whispered to Donovan, who grunted ignorance in
response. Ramesh bobbed his head and answered his own question. “Yes, they are.
They’re going to retake Saturn.”

“We’re going to retake Saturn,” McCormack said. “This will
deny use of the helium-three and deuterium mines there to the enemy and decrease
the threat to our supply lines between Earth and Lalande by providing us with
an alternate source of those fuels. The trip there is more than three months,
so it is a significant commitment of these forces for at least half a year.”

And even longer for those who will have to be left behind
to guard the system
, Donovan thought.

“Now, onto CJTF Twenty-One,” he said. “This will be composed
of American and Russian forces. Twenty-two combat ships, twelve combat support,
and an as-yet undetermined number of brigade transport groups.”

Everyone looked up at that. Brigade groups meant an
attempted invasion of a terran planet. Donovan examined the ship list. He saw only
two battlecruisers, and nothing else larger than a medium cruiser.
They want
to move fast. But that’s not going to be enough firepower to bombard a
well-defended planet or break through a keyhole, not without help.

“The
Diaz
will serve as the flagship, and the
Kirov
will be the lead ship for the Russians. At this point, we can only say that
the task force will deploy into the Wolf 359 system,” McCormack concluded.

Lot of options from Wolf 359: We could go to
Commonwealth, Guoxing, Kuji, Xinzhou, or even Hoshigawa via Leviticus. But
those aren’t the obvious destination.

An Australian Army colonel raised his hand. “Have the
Russians asked for any allied ground forces to be deployed on their territory?”

The Russian flag officer, a counteradmiral named Komarov, spoke
for the first time. “At this time, we do not feel any such deployments are
necessary, but we are grateful for any offers,” he said in a monotone.
That’s
a rehearsed line,
Donovan thought,
and not what Gardiner told me. Guess
his information isn’t as good as he claims.

“You would think they would welcome it,” Ramesh whispered.
“But they don’t seem to be worried about the Han reservists across the border.
Hmm, maybe that means we can hit you up for the 10th Mountain Division, eh,
Jim?”

“I’ll send that up the line, but remember, I’m a mere
senator’s aide, so I rank somewhere between pond scum and dirt,” Donovan
whispered back, smiling, and Ramesh gave him a skeptical look.

“The American fleet commander will be Vice Admiral Lesley
Cooper; Lieutenant General Velasco Suarez will command the ground forces.”

Donovan leaned over to Fairchild. “They couldn’t get
Miraflores for either of these missions?” Vice Admiral Carmen Miraflores had
become the first bonafide American hero of the war, in the eyes of politicians,
media and troops, after she had led the victory at the Battle of Kennedy
Station a year prior.

“She’s a celebrity now,” Fairchild said. “From what I’ve
heard, she doesn’t want to be, but Delgado and Joint Chiefs aren’t letting her
out of their sight. They need to be able to remind everyone she’s in charge of
the American fleet guarding Earth orbit and blockading the Hans.”

“Hrmph. It’s going to be a smaller fleet with all these
ships leaving.”

“Don’t you worry, Jim; the Russians and Indians can make up
the difference.”

The briefing broke up not long after. As Donovan stood, several
lines of text appeared in his eye:

JIM, YOU’RE GOING AS NSS LIAISON ON THE DIAZ. GARDINER WILL
RIDE OUT ON THE KIROV. STAY TUNED FOR YOUR COVER ARRANGEMENTS. SONYA.

Gardiner Fairchild had apparently received the same message.

“Got to be Entente, don’t you think?” he said in a low
voice. “You’ll have to tell me how to get laid there.”

“Find someone who will put up with you? The mission is
difficult enough as it is,” Donovan said.
Sonya,
he thought,
you’ve
lied to me yet again.

Near Sycamore, Sequoia Continent, Kuan Yin

The G8 star 11 Leonis Minoris A
glowed an angry red through a tower of gray smoke, and everything around Rand
was cast in a hazy orange. The nearest of the forest fires was about ten klicks
away, ignited by the Chinese orbital lasers as they bombarded the Falcon base. The
air smelled like a campfire.

Most of the trees are first-generation, planted by the
terraforming corps after the colony opened up. I wonder if the forest will be
able to grow back by itself.
It was an idle thought, but idle thoughts were
a relief after the nightmare they had witnessed in the attack on the base.
Perhaps one hundred people had made it out before the lasers struck; Rand had
witnessed a beam play across the stout form of Major Isabella Cruz as she
sprinted from the cave entrance, burning and shattering her body at the same
time. The image remained with him when he closed his eyes.

Of the others – DiMarco, Gant, Ruiz – Rand had no idea.
Probably
killed when the missile warheads arrived and collapsed the cave entrance. At
least I convinced Cruz to have some of the troops outside the base.
They
knew others had survived, because occasionally they would hear a crack of
thunder as an orbiting warship bombarded a surface target. They had also seen
Chinese airborne troop carriers overhead more than once.

But they – Rand, Aguirre and Lopez – had found, and been
found by, no one, and they walked alone. They had rifles, armor, and some supplies,
thanks to Rand’s insistence they be ready to evacuate at any time. But the food
would run out soon, and the American forces had already consumed most of the
game in the area.

And we won’t find any help here,
Rand thought. They
had made their way toward the nearest small military cache, Eagle, and found it
similarly destroyed by orbital bombardment.
If they got all the caches,
we’re done.

“Where to now, Cap?” Lopez said.

“The bathroom,” Rand said.

“I heard that,” Aguirre agreed.

“You men are such weaklings,” Lopez said.

“They called her the iron bladder back in the day,” Aguirre
said. She punched him in the shoulder.

Rand and Aguirre moved into the trees and separated by
several meters.

A minute later, as he buttoned up, Rand heard a shout behind
him.

Instinctively, he hit the dirt, taking care not to land in
the puddle he had just created. He saw Aguirre off to his left, down on one
knee.

“Woah-tow-shawn! Woah-tow-shawn!” they heard Lopez say in
their ears. She had activated her comm, and she was saying, in Chinese, “I
surrender.”

Oh, shit,
Rand thought. He didn’t transmit a response
out of fear it would be detected. He looked over at Aguirre, who was turning
off the safety on his rifle.

“Twelve of you? Think that’s enough to handle me?” Lopez
said in English.

She’s warning us off. There’s too many for us.

Aguirre was now looking at Rand, eyes pleading. Rand shook
his head.
No, Hal. We can’t win.
She’s a prisoner. Better that than
all three of us dead.
They remained motionless, hoping the Chinese squad
didn’t look too hard in the surrounding area. After a short time, the squad
leader barked at the rest, and a little while later, a small skytruck ascended
and departed, heading for Sycamore.

Hatred burned in Aguirre’s eyes.

“We’ll get her back, Hal,” Rand said. “She’s all we have
left.”

San José, Republic of Tecolote, Entente

Neil’s farewell gathering was at a small, upscale bar
above a small furniture showroom; the bar was used primarily by foreign
diplomats and businessmen, and it kept a low profile; it had no storefront,
just an unmarked door in front of some stairs.

Tippy Griego and his gorgeous wife were there, along with
the entire consulate staff, plus a few others Neil had met once or twice.
Commander Raleigh, freshly arrived in Tecolote, was also present, maneuvering
around tables and couches with grace, despite the crutches. And General Naima
had breezed in but quickly departed, to everyone’s relief. No one likes the
chief of the secret police at a boozer.

Of all of Neil’s friends and close associates on the island,
only Das was absent.

As the evening wore on, people started leaving, and the
party shrunk to a small booth. Lindsay Trujillo sat next to Neil, putting her
head on his shoulder from time to time. Tippy and Harkins sat across from them.
Tippy kept laughing and trying to get Neil to commit to going fishing before
his late-morning launch departed.

“Tippy, is Das working tonight?” Neil asked as they waited
for another round to arrive.

“No, he said he was coming here when I saw him at the luncheon
we worked today. Dunno why he didn’t make it.” Tippy tried calling him, but Das
didn’t answer.

Maybe he’s nervous about what he told me and doesn’t want
to be seen with me
, Neil thought.

“Can we go to his place?”

“Are you sure, man? This party’s just getting started.”

“I’m worried about him, Tippy. He’s never missed work, has
he?”

That made up Tippy’s mind. “All right, we’ll go.”

Neil drove the consular car, while Tippy’s wife took their
family car home. Lindsay declined her offer of a ride, insisting on coming with
Neil and Tippy. “After all, Neil, you’re no longer formally part of the
consulate, so the car’s my responsibility,” she said.