Trial by Fire - eARC (50 page)

“This is their hypothesis, which agrees with our own. I am puzzled at your anxiety over this detail, Hu’urs Khraam.”

“I have no logical justification for it, other than that this failure is atypical, given what we’ve observed of the humans.”

“Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, explicate, please.”

“Consider how the humans disabled their lunar antimatter facility. They did not resort to bombs, but had the presence of mind to remove all those parts that would be simple for them to restore, but almost impossible for us to independently fabricate. How could that act of sabotage be managed so well and with such foresight, and the other so bungled?”

“Humans are inconstant, Hu’urs Khraam. We have always known this.”

“Perhaps, but consider this. We caught almost all their naval carriers in one trap at Barnard’s Star, and then more here, in their home system. We could hardly ask for better outcomes, Darzhee Kut. Yet—”

“Yet what?”

“Yet their tactics in each engagement showed great ingenuity and skill. At Barnard’s Star, they spent as few hulls as possible and yet, by turns, slowed us, inflicted maximum damage, and saved half of their own force. And here, on the ground, they routinely confound us with outdated technology amplified by their martial acumen, and by their canny observation of our weaknesses, of our unfamiliarity with the craft of war, and of the Hkh’Rkh’s tendencies toward tactical impetuosity.”

“Yes, Hu’urs Khraam, but let us consider their failures, also. They did save many of their capital ships at Barnard’s Star, but those hulls are now stranded in that system. And those that they did lose were captained by individuals who evinced little imagination or verve; those ships seemed to be slavishly following a preset battle plan. And here on their home world, the humans’ greatest corporate houses have become our allies and are undoing the defenses of their own species. So again: humanity is defined by its variations, its inconstancies.”

“Perhaps. But there was no such variation or inconstancy in their push to the stars, Speaker Kut. The speed and efficiency of their expansion was so great that all of the members of the Accord, even the Dornaani, were caught off-guard. I find it hard to believe that now, with their survival at stake, and their known talent for war and destruction, that they would perform so unevenly. It is an oddness, and it troubles me.” He rose; Darzhee distinctly heard one of the linking-integuments in his belly-plates creak. “It probably troubles me because I am too old.”

“With respect, Hu’urs Khraam, you—”

“I am old, Darzhee Kut, even for one of the Hur caste. At any rate, it was folly for me to attend this undertaking myself. One of the younger Hur, such as—”

“Revered Hu’urs Khraam, none but you was suited for this great mission. Every deephall in the Wholenest knew it.”

“Bah. Did they know I would be tested to my very death-song by these Hkh’Rkh? Every day, their overlord First Voice places the same petitions before me. Attack the great cities, the great powers, of this planet. North America, Eurasia, the Chinese littoral. They are weak, he says. We have no reason to think so, I reply. The EMP warheads crippled them, he asserts. Yes, crippled their civilian sector, I counter, but we disabled little or none of their military equipment, so far as we can tell. We have orbital control, he thunders, and we must use it so that they will respect us—and they will respect nothing less than a full-scale attack. I point out the troubles we are having here, on one medium-sized island. He dismisses these difficulties as byproducts of our ‘restrictive rules of engagement.’ Another sign of Arat Kur weakness and lack of resolve.” The First Delegate rose. His manipulator polyps quivered a bit—from strain or pain, Darzhee Kut could not discern. “I tell you, young Kut, it is the Hkh’Rkh, not the humans, that will be the death of me. Now, I must settle into my quarters and find the harmonies that have escaped me this day.”

“And what do I do about Caine Riordan?”

“Do? Do about him? What do you mean?”

“How do we best respond to his gesture, to the potentials for peace and trust that his deed invites us to consider?”

“Here, young Kut, is what
you
must do. You must remind yourself—hourly—that Caine Riordan is but one human. He is an aberration among them, a flicker of conscience that his own megacorporate kin would have extinguished if he had not run far and fast. Do not let his noble deed seduce you into thinking the rest of his race are capable of something similar.”

Darzhee Kut held his mandibles very still. The troubling nature of humans had long been known to the higher castes of the Wholenest, but at this moment, in the face of contrary possibilities, Hu’urs Khraam’s counsel sounded suspiciously like unthinking speciate bigotry. “And Riordan himself. What do I tell him?”

Hu’urs Khraam looked at Darzhee Kut closely. “Tell him that his deed was noble and we are grateful for it. And, if you think he is ready to hear it, you should also tell him that we can already measure how much his deed will change the outcome of this war.”

“Really? How much?”

“Not at all.”

BOOK TWO
COUNTERATTACK

Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment—that which they cannot anticipate.

—Sun Tzu

Part One

January 12, 2120

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Spooky Hollow” restricted area, north of Perth, Earth

Downing glanced up at the mission clock: 2120.01.12 Z1006.48 local. Twelve seconds to go.

The commo officer’s voice called the last warning. “Coming up on projected signal reception: ten seconds.”

He turned to Alnduul. “You can tell when an interstellar superstring is perturbed by a shift drive, even at this range?”

“Yes, but this is true only if we know which superstring to monitor and if the phenomenon is, fundamentally speaking, local. Theoretically, one should be able to detect a perturbation of a superstring anywhere along its ‘length’ at the instant it occurs, for the string has no dimensions as we understand them.”

Downing frowned. “That would seem to hold out the possibility of almost instantaneous communication, regardless of distance.”

“So many have hoped. But the technology to do so remains elusive.”

Considering that the Dornaani had had—at least—several thousand years to identify the necessary technological fix, Downing put this option from his mind.

Commo officer John Campbell of the Australian Air Force nodded at his control panel. “And—mark. Projecting that transmission has been received by the shift-carrier
Tanku-sha Maru
at a range of three point five light-days.” He turned to Downing. “And now, sir?”

“And now, we wait.”

Evidently, they were not going to have to wait for long. Alnduul’s associate made a finger-streaming gesture. The Dornaani leaned their heads together. Alnduul listened, his lids fluttered. He straightened, looked at Downing. “The
Tanku-sha Maru
has now entered shift space as per the instructions you sent on January eighth.”

Which meant that it was already at its destination and sending the signal that would activate the final, fateful phase of Case Leo Gap. Either that or a freak drive failure had destroyed the
Tanku-sha Maru
and, with it, any hope of retaking the Solar System. Downing tried not to swallow audibly. “Lieutenant Campbell, please check the light-pins in the Dornaani holosphere’s close-up of Jakarta. Are our delivery assets for Case Timber Pony currently in striking range?”

The young lieutenant from Perth studied the alien device for a moment. “Confirmed in range, sir. The green one is within the optimum activation footprint now. The other two are within five kilometers.” The young Perther looked up. “Orders, sir?”

Downing felt the collective eyes of his staff, the veteran security detachment, and even the Dornaani upon him. He swallowed. “Set the infiltration units’ final assault clock for three hours. Send the word to the irregular units that they will go active along with the preparatory barrage in ten minutes, but to await a final confirmation before jumpoff.”
Because if the interstellar cavalry fails to come over the hill by then, a general ground attack will be suicide.

“Messages sent to all units, sir.” The Aussie continued to look at him, unblinking, waiting.

Downing closed his eyes—and saw Nolan’s smile. He smiled back.
It was always your show, old boy. We’ve just been playing the notes you composed.

Downing opened his eyes. “Start the clock. And let’s get ourselves airborne. We will soon have a battlefield to assess.”

Central Jakarta, Earth

Tygg, his hand covering the ear bud connected by wire to a short-range pager, muttered, “They’ve started the clock.”

Trevor glanced at him. “Just now?”

“Yeh. Well, a few seconds ago, given the delay between the ground repeaters from the Sundas to here. The general festivities start in ten minutes. Our own special party starts in a little less than three hours. Unless everyone gets waved off.”

“Does that give us enough time for a stealthy approach?” Trevor looked out the window, saw the minarets of the Istiqlal Mosque rising up across a short stretch of the Merdeka Square.

Tygg checked his watch. “Should. Our mob is ready to gather at the head of the assault route.”

“Okay, then let’s get our own teams moving into place. Page mine along with yours, will you?”

“Already done. How do the Roaches and Sloths look? Antsy?”

Trevor raised his binoculars, made sure the laser rangefinder was off, scanned the recently walled complex that rose up beyond the Indonesian Supreme Court building which lay just to the west of the presidential palace. He looked for signs of activity at that part of the enemy perimeter. Nothing out of the ordinary. Trevor bit his lip—

Tygg’s voice was low, closer to his ear. “Thinking about the inside team again?”

“It shows?”

“Might as well wear a sign, mate. Look, the resistance agents in the compound’s domestic staff placed the breaching charges themselves. They know to stay away as much as possible.”

“Yeah, but we have no way to warn them, no way to tell them that the clock is running.”

“Which they knew when they volunteered.”

“Cold consolation.”

Tygg’s voice was lower still. “Listen, Trevor, regardless of what you Yanks like to think, and the way you try to run your ops, not everyone has a reasonable chance of survival. And you don’t always get to fight the war you planned, eh?”

Trevor looked up balefully. “You mean like the war where we assumed we’d have C4I dominance, GPS redundancy, and orbital weapon guidance?”

“Yeah, that one. But this is the war we got, instead. And it’s the war that the team inside the compound got, as well. Today, they’ve drawn the short straw and the dirty job. Tomorrow, or sooner, it might be you who has to walk point, or be bunkmates with plastique.”

“I know, Tygg. I’ve been there myself. I just hate seeing it happen to others. Particularly civilians.”

He felt the tall Aussie’s hand come down on his shoulder. “You’ve a big heart, Trev, so big that it’s blinding you to something.”

“What’s that?”

“There aren’t any civilians anymore. Not until we kick the last of these damned exos off our world.”

Trevor lowered the binoculars, said, “You’re right,” and wished Tygg wasn’t. Trevor turned, smiled at the slightly younger man. “Well, I don’t suppose we should waste any time. Let’s gather the troops.”

Presidential Palace, Jakarta, Earth

“You wished to see me?” As one, the room’s occupants turned from the holotank to look at Caine.

Darzhee Kut clattered forwards. “Caine Riordan, my apologies that I have been unable to share roof with you these past three days. I have been quite busy.”

Caine scanned the room, saw Yaargraukh, the Hkh’Rkh Advocate with whom he had become friends at Convocation. The smallish Hkh’Rkh stared at him without any acknowledgment.
Probably because I’m too politically toxic
.

However, First Fist had reared up to his full height and his crest was not merely erect but puffed out like a long fur stole saturated with static electricity. He pointed at Caine. “I will not suffer to be in the same room as this
zhkh’grsh’hak’k
.”

Evidently, this was an insult so profound—or intricate—that the translator could not process it. Caine looked down at Darzhee Kut, whose polyps writhed once. The Arat Kur equivalent of an “I dunno” shrug.

Yaargraukh’s voice was flat. “In your language, this would specifically refer to a courtesan who makes herself the property of one Family’s Lord, so that she may poison him in order to become the courtesan of a rival Family Lord. Only to repeat this process with yet another, greater Family Lord.”

Trading up, Borgia-style. Caine cast about for an oblique retort to Graagkhruud’s insult, but let it go.
Not smart, and besides, they brought you here for a reason.

Something was going on. He could sense it in the way they were all clustered around the holotank, had been so intent on its contents that they had not even heard the door admit Caine and his Arat Kur guards. He returned his attention to Darzhee Kut, “This day, Speaker Kut, you seem busier still. May I be of some assistance?”

“We think so. Please come and view the holotank.”

As Caine came close to the tank, he bowed toward the senior Arat Kur. “First Delegate Hu’urs Khraam, I presume. I have heard your name sung, and am honored to meet you.”

Hu’urs Khraam bobbed in return. “You know our greetings; this is well. Harmonies, Spokesperson Riordan. Forgive my inability to greet you as cordially as I would wish, but tell me”—he waved a claw in the direction of the holotank—“what do you make of this?”

Caine looked. Bright yellow motes ringed the Earth in various orbits, a few others near the Moon and at the Lagrangian points, several more distributed through the vast spaces surrounding the whole tableau. But off to one side, with the Moon currently occluding them from the Earth, there was a broad and yet extremely dense cloud of angry, blood red needles. They were marked by various Arat Kur characters, some constantly transmogrifying, probably counting down range, ETA. But it meant nothing to him. Caine looked up. “With apologies, Hu’urs Khraam, if I am not given more information, I can only see a dispersed collection of yellow dots being approached by a much larger swarm of red ones.”