Winds of Vengeance (23 page)

He’d always been amazed at mankind’s history of warfare, of fighting endlessly with itself. He’d been raised to think only of the First Imperium and its AIs and robots as an enemy, and a vanquished one at that. The republic was alone, far from humanity’s home and completely cut off. His imaginings of enemies had always taken the form of some new encounter, another force like the First Imperium, emerging as suddenly and tragically as the imperials had.

But now he was in a trench facing other citizens of the republic. The Mules were strange, and often somewhat off-putting, but he had always considered them fellow humans. As a Tank, he could even understand some of their anger. The Mules raged against the Prohibition…and the Tanks grumbled about the Plague, and called for more efforts to fight the deadly syndrome. They seemed to have much in common, similar grievances. Yet any minute he might get the orders to move forward, for his Marines to assault the Mules’ base…and kill or capture them all. He was confused, angry, his sense of duty to the Corps struggling with his own beliefs as a Tank.

“Attention all units, this is General Frasier. You are all to stand down. No one is to fire, or even respond to enemy fire unless your own positions are directly attacked. Anybody who has an itchy trigger finger is going to have to deal with me.”

Cameron shook his head. The orders were strange, unexpected. And Frasier’s voice seemed odd, not at all the usual calm certainty that had come to define the general.

Cameron had already been nervous, but now his stomach knotted up. He didn’t know what to expect, and now the specter of the unknown was gnawing at him even more than the possibility of combat.

What the hell is going on?

His answer came quickly. Frasier had barely finished issuing his orders when Cameron’s visor display went crazy. His head snapped up, and he looked out toward the compound…just as the show began.

He caught glimpses of huge figures, robots like the ones he’d seen earlier. They were moving, staying mostly behind cover. And their weapons were firing.

He saw flashes of electric-blue light, particle accelerators, he knew. The energy weapons were enormously deadly at close range—within a hundred meters, the beam would rip through his armor like a knife through butter—but in an atmosphere, the effectiveness would quickly drop off. The weapons weren’t aimed at his Marines. The robots were putting on a display, blasting rocks to dust and trees to splinters.

He saw trails moving across his field of view, hyper-velocity autocannon rounds, creating an eerie glow as they ionized the air around them. They slammed into a small rise, tearing apart the dirt, ripping huge gaps into the hill.

Now he understood Frasier’s odd order. The Mules were demonstrating their firepower, not attacking. They were leaving no doubt that they could protect themselves, that any assault against their base would be a bloodbath. They weren’t targeting the Marines, not yet. But that could change in an instant if his people opened fire.

He looked out toward the compound, watching the power of the bots’ weapons on display. He’d read the accounts of the battles with the First Imperium’s robot warriors, seen the footage of them in action. But seeing it for real—and facing the prospect he might be ordered to engage them at any moment—was sobering. He’d been concerned about what would happen, about how the Mules might fight back…and now he was realizing what would happen if those orders came. This wouldn’t be a quick operation, an assault on the compound and the arrest of the Mules. It would be a bloodbath, a savage battle that would claim hundreds of lives…and one his gut told him the Marines could lose.

*    *    *

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Diennes, and I assure you I share them. But I’m afraid the situation is far more complicated than it appears.”

Ana Zhukov and Connor Frasier sat, looking across the desk at Max Harmon. The republic’s president was on the com unit with Jacques Diennes. Diennes was one of the leading members of the Assembly, and the head of the Human Society. He was also Harmon’s greatest political rival, and one of his challengers in the upcoming elections.

Zhukov watched silently, the expression on her face communicating her distress. She detested Diennes, an emotion she would have extended to all his followers if she hadn’t believed most of them were just fools following their instincts to be part of a movement without really understanding it. Human history had proven mankind’s ineptitude in choosing leaders, causes. It was something she knew that transcended nations and eras, and it struck all across the political spectrum. It was the reason all human societies trended toward totalitarianism…because people wanted to believe in things instead of accepting the dark truths. Because they sought not to preserve their—and everyone’s—freedom, but instead to feel that they were morally superior. Because it is easier to believe someone telling you that you were wronged, that you are threatened…and it is too depressing to accept that those leading your movement seek only personal power, and that you are but a mindless tool in their quest for control. And Diennes was a master at exploiting peoples’ weaknesses.

She couldn’t hear what Diennes was saying, but she could see the anger on Harmon’s face. He was controlling himself, keeping his own tone cool, professional, but she knew some part of him was wishing he could make the troublesome politician disappear.

Zhukov was surprised by her own thoughts, particularly the one that wondered if that wasn’t a good idea…if Harmon should leave the future to the vagaries of an election and men like Jacques Diennes. If people wouldn’t value and safeguard their liberties or invest the time to see through monsters like Diennes, she wasn’t sure what purpose democracy served. If people were doomed to live under authoritarian rule, she would vastly prefer someone like Harmon, and she was starting to believe she would support whatever actions he took to ensure that result.

“That man is infuriating.”

Zhukov looked up, Harmon’s voice pulling her from her thoughts. He had shut down the com line. “Yes, Max…he is.” She didn’t even try to hide the distaste in her voice. “You can’t let him take power. Whatever it takes.”

“Well, this situation with the Mules only helps him. I was trying to downplay things, even after I deployed the Marines, but there is no hiding that display of firepower they put on. Diennes com has been going nonstop…even the moderate NBs are scared to death now, wondering what the Mules have been up to. From what I can see, the Human Society is even getting some fringe support among the Tanks, again, mostly fueled by fear of the Mules.” He paused, shaking his head. “They’re calling me soft, too sympathetic to do what has to be done…too weak to protect the republic.”

“My people are ready, sir…if you decide there is no other choice. It will be…difficult…but the Marines will see it done if you give the order.” Ana looked at her husband, pushing back on the anger she felt. She knew it wasn’t fair…Frasier had his responsibilities, and all the years she’d known him he had been a creature of duty. She couldn’t hold that against him now. And she could tell from his tone that he didn’t
want
to lead his Marines forward. He didn’t hate the Mules, and he even agreed with many of their grievances…and she suspected he was far from sure how a battle would turn out, despite the display of confidence.

“Is that what we’ve come to, Connor?” Frasier sighed. “To send your people in to kill the Mules? Let’s not kid ourselves, they’re armed to the teeth and they’re going to resist. I hesitate to even guess how many of your Marines will die. The mere show of force has thrown the republic into an uproar. What will happen if the Mules are all killed…along with hundreds of your Marines?”

Ana listened quietly. She knew Harmon had hoped the show of force would push the Mules to back down. That had been a bit of wishful thinking, Harmon fooling himself because the alternatives were so unpalatable. It was a rare display of weakness by the republic’s president, and as much as she had recognized it immediately, she couldn’t bring herself to fault him for it.

“What alternatives are there?” Frasier spoke softly, his voice grim, uncomfortable. “They will destroy you politically if you don’t take action.” The Marine paused. “That’s not to mention the fact that, however legitimate the Mules’ grievances, we can hardly allow an armed force to remain ten klicks from the city.”

“Let me go talk to them.” The words blurted from Ana’s mouth, surprising even herself.

“That is out of the question.” Frasier turned toward her, a look of horror on his face. “It’s a potential battle zone, Ana. What if we end up having to assault the facility? Even if we could get you in there safely, you have no idea what they would do. Dr. Cutter is out there…and we don’t know what they have done to him.”

“Hieronymus is fine, Connor. And I would be too. The Mules would never harm me. For that matter, I’m sure they don’t want to harm anyone.” She turned toward Harmon. “Max, we have a group here standing up for their rights. You know they have been treated unfairly. What would you do in their place? What would Terrance have done? Let me try to work out a solution. Please. If you order the Marines to go in, you will always regret it.” She turned back toward Fraser. “And with all due respect to the Marines, I would not underestimate the Mules…or their ability to defend themselves. You imagine a bloody but victorious assault. What if you attack and lose hundreds of Marines…and are defeated?”

Frasier stared back at his wife. “If we go in, we will take the compound.” His voice sounded more of pride than confidence.

She didn’t answer. There was no reason to argue over Frasier’s bravado. One glance across the table told her Harmon agreed with her.

“Are you sure, Ana? It could be dangerous.”

“I have nothing to fear from the Mules, Max. As long as they know I am coming…and coming alone.”

“No…this is insane.” Frasier’s head snapped back and forth, looking at both of them, his expression turning quickly to one of horror.

Ana reached out and put her hand on his arm. “It’s the only way to avoid a disaster, Con. I can’t sit here while hundreds of your men and women are killed…and what will happen to the republic, even if you are victorious. The Mules are responsible for much of our technology, our prosperity. This can’t end in bloodshed…whatever it takes.” She paused, looking into his eyes. “I have to do this. There’s no other choice.”

“She’s right, Connor.” Harmon stood up slowly. “I will send a communique to Achilles and tell him you want to come out there.”

Ana nodded. “I will be ready.”

“I’ll send a detachment with you…”

“No, Connor. No Marines. No one else.” She started right at him. “I have to go alone.”

Chapter Nineteen

Admiral Frette’s Communique to Fleet HQ

Highest Security Level – AI Protected

President Harmon and Admiral West Eyes Only

It is with a heavy heart that I must report that the fleet has encountered a significant force of hostile ships. Although the vessels are not an absolute match for First Imperium ship designs, they are very close and, thusly, there can be little doubt that we have encountered a significant force of the First Imperium. The fleet has engaged and defeated approximately seventy enemy vessels. Our losses in the battle were moderate, two vessels destroyed, varying damage levels to approximately half of the fleet’s vessels. Our current casualty count is 134 dead and 98 wounded. These figure do not include minor wounds or treatable cases of radiation exposure.

The squadron we faced consisted entirely of light and medium units, designs very similar to the Gremlins and Gargoyles faced previously, and the absence of any heavy enemy units accounts for our relatively easy victory. We have little evidence as to what, if any, additional forces may be positioned out farther toward the frontier, but it seems likely that a force this size, deployed for the past thirty years or more in such a remote location must have some type of base or support installation. I am also suspicious of a fleet completely without any heavier vessels. My recollections of the past war, confirmed by an AI analysis of records from the era, suggest that First Imperium fleets of this size rarely operated without battleship equivalents.

As commander on the scene, the decision as to a next step falls upon me. I could order the fleet to return to Earth Two, or I could choose to move forward, to explore and seek more information, to try to assemble a clearer picture of what we are facing. I do not see the benefit of returning now. That would leave us facing a mystery, and the constant danger of an enemy attack on Earth Two. And if we are to learn more, it does not seem to me we could send a meaningfully larger fleet on a second mission, not without leaving an inadequate defensive force behind.

I have therefore decided that we will continue farther, following the course
Hurley
took. We will gather data, scan each system we pass through…and seek to develop a meaningful estimate of what enemy forces we are facing. I am sending
Cyclone
with this message, as she is the fastest ship we have…and also a light vessel with minimal combat power. I believe I have made the correct choice, indeed the only one that makes sense for us now, and I am confident both of you would have come to the same conclusion.

I urge both of you to approach this threat with grave seriousness. I have no evidence there are First Imperium forces out here in numbers large enough to threaten Earth Two…but we all know intuition plays a role in every good commander’s decision making process. And my instincts are screaming to me. While I can offer nothing more save these feelings, I feel obligated to tell you both I expect to find a large enemy force out here. Perhaps one that can overwhelm this fleet. Perhaps even one that can threaten Earth Two with invasion and destruction.

I will, of course, send updates back in the event we discover anything new, and I will return with the fleet as soon as we are able to develop a more concrete analysis of what forces oppose us. I wish you both the best in dealing with this new threat, even as you manage the difficulties our young republic was already facing.