All Fall Down (51 page)

           
Daoud looked up at her. She remembered his words,
“Somewhere out there, today, the crew of that ship from nine hundred years ago is about to die.”
But here? Was it coincidence he'd said that?

           
Jonah interrupted again, “Listen, I don't wanna be callous. But we have a situation still. The Colony's on emergency life support. Them ships are entering space with whatever the hell that thing was. I've got our ships out, mech everywhere, charged weapons. And reports of things zipping around, like what came out the ground. A bit of concentration and guidance would be helpful.”

           
“You're right Jonah. General Leland, I suggest you grieve some other time.” Daoud was walking away from his holos. He stopped between Kate and the bunker door.

           
She shot her eyes at him, “You attacked them without provocation. People have been murdered.” Her voice rose. “Maybe by you. There are alien species in orbit around this planet.” Her focus wavered. Anger crept in its place, the blissful temptation of revenge. “Don't tell me what to do. Don't you fucking dare.”

           
Daoud rubbed his lips together a fraction, “Well, General, you are in charge. I've already transferred weapons systems and resources to your command table.”

           
Paralysis gripped her. She clenched her fists while she tried to focus and think like a General. She had no direct evidence that Daoud was responsible for the deaths. She had to follow protocol. Protocol would help. She could defend that. “Administrator,” she restrained her voice, the anger a knife edge, “I am putting you in charge of colonist survival. For their sakes, do something to help them. You have no idea what the twenty three are capable of, do you? Do something, please. Oversee the ship preparation in the main hangar. Identify who will go into space evac and who into bunkers. Whatever else you've done, please save your people. They'll still listen to you.”

           
 
Daoud said nothing. He held her gaze and it took all her strength not to launch at him. He smiled, a flicker at the corner of his mouth, and strode to the door, gone.

           
When the door had closed behind him, Kate picked up her suit helmet from a nearby console and threw it at a wall. She watched it clatter along the floor and come to a stop, its blank visor staring up at her, black.

           
“Kate?”

           
She looked away, into a holo that clearly depicted the surface, falling on the familiar voice, a connection to somebody she trusted. “Djembe, what's happening on the surface?” She dipped her head as Djembe gave her an update. She could hear he was clearly struggling to focus, his friend's death draining his thoughts.

           
“The Colony is still experiencing seismic activity. Major internal damage, roof sections collapsing. I have casualty reports coming in. We need to defend ourselves, fight back.”

           
When he had finished, she opened a channel to the surface personnel in the ships and defensive mech. It was time to take a stand on war. Djembe, who hated taking risks, was advocating a return of fire. She looked back at the helmet on the floor, at the dull gleam in its blind visor.

           
“This is General Kate Leland. This Colony is now under Military Intelligence jurisdiction, under Article Two of the Colony Defence Code. Your instructions come from me now.” She waited a moment for the message to go through, watching the icons of each ship, each mecha, change colour as the message was received, “Stand down all weapons. Emplacements return to standby, and prepare to stow. Mech power down armaments, and begin return to storage.”

           
“General?” Djembe sounded aghast. She ignored his protestations.

           
“Djembe, overlay my holo with the exit trajectories of the five orbital bodies.”

           
“But Kate, we need...”

           
“I am giving you an order. I want trajectory probability contours and funnels. Jonah, disengage the parallel holo room processing, and return power to Colony systems. Ask your holo suite avatars to start combing the Colony for colonist reaction. All planetary comms are to remain offline, full quarantine. Too many people have witnessed this to keep it a military secret. We need to manage how the news is released. We also need to consider the structural integrity of the Colony. I'm bringing the security personnel off the surface; Jonah I want you to find jobs for them.”

           
The
Hand
's pilot contacted her, “General, the hangar bay doors are working reliably now. The Colony ships are returning. I'm starting prep on evac craft.”

           
“Good. Bring the
Hand
back. Administrator Daoud will be with you shortly to work on evac strategy. Take your lead from him.” She hated every mention of his name, but she couldn't panic the colonists. They were blind to his machinations. If she tried to turn them against Daoud right now, when everyone was already panicking, there would be revolt. She would strengthen his hand.

           
In front of her, in the holos, lumbering robots, the defensive mech, plodded their way across the surface to the Colony entrance. Kate watched their mechanical trudge, while around them flew the twenty three pods so recently the greatest secret in human society. The Colonists would think they came with the visitors, from space, from beyond, that they were alien. And in a way, she thought, they were right. Daoud already had the best cover story he needed. He'd had hundreds of years to plan it.

           
And how much involvement had the Cadre had in all of this? She was troubled by his assertion that the Cadre knew of the alien civilisations.

           
The sounds of change rang through the emergency bunker. Reports flowed in from security personnel, Djembe and Jonah gave a regular verbal update on the different holos and consequence mapping. There were announcements from the Colony's back-up computer core about power systems switching off and on.

           
Satisfied that she had most of the Colony's systems under control, and that the Colony's directors were overseeing the rest of the evacuation to the bunkers or to the hangar, she opened a secure channel to Djembe, and waited for him to move into an isolated area in his suite.

           
“I've let you down. I was supposed to be acting like a General. I'm sorry.”

           
“You have not let us down. I disagree with pulling back defences, but you are a General, Kate.”

           
“I let curiosity get in the way of control. I should have brought Win back with us.”

           
There was silence for a few seconds, “Now you sound like me. I haven't acted very professionally on this mission. I should not have distracted you.”

           
“Djembe, some day you will make a fine General yourself.”

           
“I only want to stop more people dying.”

           
“There's an occupation force on its way. I thought those ships were Admiral Kim's fleet. What's your advice? As a Consequence Planner?”

           
“If the fleet arrives and sees them in orbit, with the Colony Defence Code in place, they might think we're under attack.”

           
“You're right.”

           
“We do not want first contact to be war.”

           
That's just what Daoud wants, Kate thought. “I have to open communications with the aliens. Get them to leave. Or get a broadcast to our own fleet.”

           
“There are also the pods, Kate. Reports have come in, saying there are flashes of light, that they're changing shape. We don't know what they're capable of.”

           
“We need to get them under control. You missed something when you left the room. Sophie Argus has been killed. I think she's been, I don't know, absorbed? By the pods. She was a cyborg.”

           
“Impossible. The Organic Edict out...”

           
“Djembe, Daoud all but confirmed it. I think they've absorbed something of her. Her biosignature shows up in each of their locations.”

           
“So, what? You think..?”

           
“They may respond to us. It's worth a try.”

           
“I cannot believe we are having this conversation.”

           
“Let's move on with this. Can...”

           
She was interrupted by Verigua, who she allowed into the private channel, “General, I have significant news. I have established a communications link with one of the visiting ships.”

           
“What? Report.”

           
“Well it took a bit of thinking to get them to respond. Suffice to say we have so far exchanged some mathematical constants, basic patterns. I am currently homing in on an agreed form of communication.”

           
“You may just have saved everyone’s lives.”

           
“Oh, all in a day's work, General. I'm finding this nourishing. I have a request, though.”

           
“Go ahead.”

           
“I would like to move your ship into low orbit. I believe they use a mixed comms method, using some visual signs. However, I am guarding the body of your colleague. I wonder if you would be so kind as to send another ship to keep watch?”

           
“Yes. Yes of course. Thank you, Verigua. You're a great help. Please keep a channel open, encrypted to my profile.”

           
“My pleasure.”

           
Verigua signed off.

           
“Djembe, see what you can do about the pods.”

           
“Yes, General.” He signed off, too.

           
Kate stared into space. Finally something was going her way.

Daoud looked into the farming pod, its crops and trees, its birds and insects, from the doorway. He drank in its green light. Remembered it. Soon, it would be a memory. He pressed the door's entrance pad. The bulkhead silently rolled across the door space, sealing the farming pod behind it. He turned, walked the short distance to the Colony's central shaft, and curled his fingers around the rail.

           
It was a time of great change, and though he doubted anyone would ever believe it, even he felt some nostalgia for the Colony, which he already thought of as dead.

           
Some days ago he had stood here, reading the Colony's story through the smells that wafted up, the changing patterns of light on the walkways around the shaft.

           
The story now was a heady brew of breakouts and blood, fear and determination, panic and comfort, evacuation and lubricant oil. He revelled. His wrist monitor gave a running update on everything that was happening. He whispered to it. A tiny holo of a Colony defensive ship appeared, with small red clamps falling away. He had turned off the force field that had stopped the
Hand
leaving. There was no point in limiting ship ranges now that evacuation was a useful part of the plan. He needed the cover. He was glad that Sophie had seen the plan through before her death. The forcefield had worked beautifully, turning on at key moments of the visitors' entry and exit from the atmosphere.

           
Another holo appeared, that of a satellite. He whispered to his wrist monitor again, “Self destruct”. The holo blinked, slowly, slowly, quickly, changed colour, fluoresced to grey. Dissolved.