The Unincorporated War (72 page)

“Then why shouldn’t we attack, Admiral?” asked Justin.

“Because, sir, the only target of significance for us in this area is Mars, just like for them the only one worth risking everything for is Ceres. Now they’ll only leave Mars when they feel they can take on our fleet and
then
attack our batteries. Our only real concern is their batteries. And to be perfectly honest, we’re not in a position to take them out. I am also of the firm belief that if we do attack them it will be the second Battle of the Martian Gates all over again.”

“No way around this?”

“We’re working a new system, sir,” offered Technology Minister Hildegard, “but it’s still theoretical and the military isn’t sure if it should be developed further.”

“Admiral?” said Justin, inviting explanation.

“It may take out their orbital batteries; then again it may not. The greater risk here is exposing a weapon that could then be turned around and used against us. And to be perfectly honest, sir, we need the orbats more than they do.”

“I understand. Keep a lid on it and bring me a detailed report when I come back from my tour of the outer planets. Which I’ll be making thanks to Secretary Rhunsfeld’s brilliant work on the ‘G’-ways, as I understand the press is now calling them.”

“They’re not really up to their full potential, Mr. President,” said Hildegard. “The routes linking most of the outer planets to each other and Ceres are only newly formed and probably won’t be ready for militarily or economically significant passage for many months yet.”

“We have them,” said Justin, with a calm born of certainty. “Our people know we have them and take hope from that just as the people of the UHF lose hope because of that. I’ll be using the G-ways for the first presidential visit to the outer planets. Mr. Singh,” he then said, turning to the minister of information, “how are the preparations going?”

“Very well, Mr. President. We’ll start your trip where the longest G-way is now operable—which would be Neptune. Given its extreme distance at the other end of the solar system the trip should take … four days.” He looked to Hildegard Rhunsfeld to confirm, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that had come out of his mouth. “You’re sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” she answered proudly. “If we had more reliable constant high-g thrusters we could make the trip even faster. As it is we’re building a cradle for Alliance One, which has the best sustained-use thrusters we could cobble together. Once the war is over and we have the routes constantly plowed and properly designed CUTs,” she said, using the new acronym for constant use thrusters, “a properly suspended person will be able to travel from here to Pluto in thirty-six hours.”

“It’ll be a completely different civilization,” said Mosh, awed.

Justin nodded appreciatively. “Four days it is then.”

“You’ll be in your acceleration couch for the entire trip,” continued Hildegard, “but we won’t have to suspend you. The only major settlement is on Triton.”

“Skipping Proteus?” asked Mosh. “It has a decent-sized population,” answered Padamir, “but not enough for a visit. Triton and the orbital facilities nearby have a far more substantial population given the value and accessibility of water and other gases.”

“It also had uranium in the core in surprising amounts,” added Hildegard, “but it was mined out de cades ago. A substantial search was implemented over the last four years, but with the success of the Seacrest raid we’ve been concentrating on ice extraction and re-formation in orbit around Triton.”

“I’ve been in contact with the security services there,” said Kirk, “but I still want to be put on record as opposing this trip. Neptune just doesn’t seem important enough to expose you, sir.”

“Try telling that to the Neptunians,” said Padamir. “They feel important enough.”

“Compared to the population centers of Uranus, Saturn, and Jupiter?” asked Kirk, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Kirk,” answered Justin, tempering the unfolding argument, “if I could I’d visit Eris, Pluto, Chiron, and as many of the other TNOs as possible. I wish the G-ways were operable that far. But Neptune’s the closest I can get to the outside of the Alliance. It doesn’t just represent my going to Neptune. It represents that I’m prepared to go as far as the war and our new technology will allow. Let’s also not forget that many of our best officers, including Admiral Sadma, come from the TNOs and, frankly, if Tyler were not riding herd on the Congress all our jobs would be ten times more difficult. Everyone in the Alliance has the right to be
proud, but the TNOs are the farthest from this fight, with their homes and families not likely to be touched regardless of the outcome—and yet they’re often the ones fighting the hardest.”

“As you wish, Mr. President,” said Kirk, backing down. “It’ll be as secure as we can make it.”

“Due to orbital locations it will make more sense to visit Saturn and then Uranus, sir,” added Padamir. “Jupiter plans to throw you a rather big reception.”

“As it should, Mr. President,” said Cyrus, beaming with obvious pride. “Jupiter will show you a marvelous time worthy of our first visit by the President of the Alliance.”

Cyrus’s pride emanated less from the fact that he was a Jovian and more from the fact that Jupiter had been rising ascendant in the years since the war began. With its large size, impressive number of moons, and massive resource base readily accessible, Jupiter had long been considered a potential giant of the solar system. Indeed it was considered a mini–solar system of its own, but the war had turned the potential into the awakening. The massive influx of industry and people to work those industries, along with their families, had caused a population explosion. It was now approaching a billion, which meant that nearly one out of four people in the Alliance were going to end up living in the Jovian system when the war was over. They were feeling proud and wanted to show off. Justin’s presidential visit would be the perfect excuse. “We’ll do right by you, Mr. President,” said Cyrus. “I will personally leave for Jupiter as soon as you leave for Neptune in order to ensure that all the arrangements are handled properly.”

“I’m sure you will, Cyrus. I’m sure you will,” said Justin. “All in all, I should be gone for three weeks to four weeks max, technology willing. Admiral,” said Justin, turning to Sinclair. “You sure we’re in a bit of a lull now?”

“No,” Sinclair said tersely. “It’s war; the enemy can do what ever the hell he wants. But their fleet’s in Mars and what ever’s left is attacking in the 180—nowhere near where you’re planning on being. Nor can they get to you undetected. Too much open space. So the 180’ll stay bloody and there shouldn’t be any surprises. Trang knows he can bleed us dry, because that’s exactly what he’s doing now. On the upside, since Trang knows that, I don’t think he’d try anything fancy.”

Justin nodded. “OK, understood. Let’s move on.” He turned to Mosh. “Economic forecast.”

“Better than we have a right to expect, Mr. President, in that the Alliance Universal Credit’s a fiat currency backed only by faith.”

“Something we seem to have a lot of these days,” said Padamir.

“Yes, quite,” agreed Mosh, “but be that as it may, it’s working. While the people have faith in the Alliance they have faith in the currency. And as long as we don’t
add too many zeros to the government balances it’ll hold. With this heretofore unheard of ability to create money we’ve been able to fund what ever we felt was needed. It seems a rather remarkable system.”

Justin held up his hand in warning. “That’s the danger. It seems to work great and solve so many problems. The next logical thing to say is, ‘Why not use this system all the time?’ And I’m telling you all now we must make sure we don’t. This system only works if you have outstanding people using the power of fiat money and government for ends that the overwhelming majority of the people agree with.”

“Like winning a war against an enemy bent on blowing to smithereens every asteroid we live on,” added Kirk.

“Exactly,” said Justin. “But if we allow hubris to seduce us into thinking we can keep the tools this war creates we’ll fail as surely as the Americans did with their dollar. Only a fool keeps a plasma grenade and a full auto rail gun on the dining room table after the armed robber has been driven off or killed.” Justin saw the polite smiles from around the cabinet table. “I’m repeating myself again, aren’t I?” he said, grinning.

“We hate to stop you, sir,” said Hildegard. “I personally love your gun on the coffee table analogy. You get so wonderfully worked up.”

“He must,” said Sinclair. “What’s that? Like number seven?”

“Eight, actually,” added Mosh, “but he’s still right. And it’s a point worth remembering, even if we have to hear it
over
and
over….
”

“Alright, alright,” said Justin, laughing. “Mea culpa. I’ll try and work up a fresh batch of analogies for you all.”

“I hope not on our account, sir,” added Cyrus with a smarmy grin.

“Especially on your account, friend. Now back to business, shall we?”

The cabinet nodded in unison, glad to have let off some steam.

“Kirk, what’s the latest from the UHF home front?”

“Getting accurate information is not hard, Mr. President. But the UHF is just so big that knowing what information is pertinent and what’s not is surprisingly difficult. What we do know is that they’re hurting. But there’s a wide variance to that hurt. Depending on what information you look at and how you look at it, they’re going to either collapse in the next three months …”

Kirk saw the cabinet members perk up. “… or stick it out for the next fourteen years. Sorry, folks, but we can’t base our intelligence on speculation. I just don’t have enough trained staff and programs to make real headway on all the data we have. My department’s had too much of a brain drain to the fleet and industry as it is,” he said with a churlish half-smile directed at Sinclair and Mosh.

“No one has enough of what they need,” said Mosh. “That’s why they call it war.”

“Kirk,” interrupted Justin, “what’s
your
best guess before the UHF would need to sue for an armistice?”

“If the situation stays the way it is now without a major change in the military situation?”

“Yes.”

“Year and a half.”

“In a year the belt cracks,” cautioned Sinclair. “Too long.”

“What if we send a major part of the fleet to the 180?” asked Justin.

“Sir …,” answered Sinclair, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t worry, Joshua; I’m not about to order the military to do something it thinks idiotic.”

Sinclair breathed a sigh of relief. “Good to know, sir.”

“Then stop looking so gloomy, but don’t reject it just because it’s the boss’s idea either.”

Sinclair nodded.

“OK,” continued Justin. “You say we’re stalemated at the Ceres front. We’re losing at the 180, but slowly. The UHF is also hurting—especially without a real fleet. They might even be hurting enough to sue for peace, but I’m with Kirk on this one, probably not for at least a year. Now both Ceres and Mars are very well defended, so I think we could probably send enough reinforcements to make the 180 a much tougher nut to crack. That would at least make Trang’s job more difficult for another year instead of the one he’s been counting on.”

“It’s not a bad idea, sir,” said Sinclair. “Though I’ll admit I don’t like the thought of not fighting to win. What you’re suggesting is simply fighting to a draw, until one side or the other ups and quits.”

“Yes, Joshua. Unfortunately, the policy of winning big battles to force the UHF to quit hasn’t worked—not that we haven’t performed spectacularly, it’s just that no matter how many times we kick their asses they keep throwing more asses out for us to kick. What I’m suggesting doesn’t win the war outright, but it at least buys us more time, and within that time things can change.”

“Mr. President,” said Sinclair, “it’s not a bad idea and does give us a plan of action that works within our resources. Certainly worth considering.”

“Thanks, Josh. That’s all I ask.”

“And I just might have the perfect operation to coincide with that strategy,” said Kirk, smiling like the cat who’d just caught the canary.

“What do have in mind, Kirk?” asked Justin, captivated.

“You say they’re on the brink; I say let’s give them a push.” Kirk paused a moment and threw some graphs up into the holo-tank. “Internal security recently had a run of successes in finding and neutralizing a number of VR rings within the Alliance. Turns out these rings had been distributing a new portable VR
rig—quite ingenious, actually. Consisting of nothing more than a sleep sack and modified helmet.” The images of the new rig appeared in the holo-tank and succeeded in gaining the rapt attention of the entire cabinet. “Luckily,” continued Kirk, “we caught on to the rings early and were able to stamp them out. I won’t go so far as to claim that we’ve eliminated VR addiction in the Alliance, but it’s not going to be a real problem. I’m also quite happy to report that the same is not true for the UHF.”

“Happy?” asked Mosh ominously.

“Oh yes,” answered Kirk, seemingly unaware of the implied derision of Mosh’s one-word question, “maybe even ecstatic. You see, the UHF is much more vulnerable to VR than the Alliance. The belt is made up mostly of small communities where pretty much everyone knows the others’ business. Even the lone miners, surveyors, and pilots can’t spend hours a day in VR without risking their lives—space is too cruel and too demanding an environment for that. But the core worlds of Mars and Earth have large, crowded populations shrouded in anonymity. Which is why they already have a large VR problem—certainly as compared to us, if not to their general population.”