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Authors: T. Jackson King

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Military, #Space Opera

Escape 2: Fight the Aliens (19 page)

BOOK: Escape 2: Fight the Aliens
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The woman who had led America for the last five years did not seem surprised by the answer. “Tell me how America is threatened.”

Jane gave a quick nod. “First, although America now has satellites able to detect moving neutrino sources, an ability that usually causes Collector ships to avoid a world, this attack says things have changed on the Alien side,” she said. “Earth could face a future slave-capturing effort by a Collector ship. Or ships. Second, and most seriously, the nearest Market world with hundreds of Buyers lies just two days travel from Earth, by way of our ship’s faster-than-light stardrive. That system is HD 128311. Its star is a K0V orange star with six planets. A moon that orbits planet four is the Market world. A Traffic Control station controls access to the world. On it are thousands of people, including hundreds of Buyers of captured Aliens.” She paused as the president lifted an eyebrow. “You surely have this information at hand thanks to Space Command. In short, so long as there is an operational Market world just two days travel from Earth, humanity will face the threat of future multi-ship attacks like what just happened.”

The president blinked, then sat back in her chair. “So this Market world is a threat to America and humanity. What should we do about it?”

Jane took a deep breath. “I can take the
Blue Sky
to HD 128311, pretend to be Diligent Taskmaster returning with captives, then attack the Traffic Control station and the Buyer compounds on the moon’s surface.”

Hartman’s expression became tensely serious. “Exactly what I have been thinking ever since you arrived beyond Pluto’s orbit and transmitted your incredible records and vidcam imagery to the JCS. Which is why I asked Congress to declare a state of war exists between America and the Buyer society.” She gestured at the empty Oval Office. “Lots of people come in here. Very few understand the burden of this office. I do. You surely do, given your insistence at retaining command of the
Blue Sky
. Tell me, would your attack on this Market world have a better chance of succeeding if you had other Collector ships assisting you?”

Now Bill understood why the woman who had led her Nativist party to victory in the last election, with control of the Senate passing to the Nativist legislators, was spending so much time with Jane. She saw herself as a new FDR. Which could well be the case given the interstellar scope of the threat faced by Earth and America. It was clear to him that their recent victory in taking over the six Collector ships was just the beginning of a long combat campaign. How far it would go remained to be seen.

Jane reached up, pushed back the helmet of her vacsuit and wiped sweat off her brow. She undid the loop holding her hair in a ponytail and shook her head. “Madame president, yes, attacking this Traffic Control station would be safer and more efficient with more than one ship.”

“Good.” The woman who was leader of the Free World gave a quick nod, her expression still intensely serious. “Tell me what ships you need to ensure a successful attack.”

Jane glanced his way, then looked back to the president. “I recommend attacking the Market world station with four Collector ships, including the
Blue Sky
. That would leave three ships in Sol system for the defense of America and Earth against any future attacks.” She gestured toward Bill. “My XO convinced nine of his drinking buddies, all of whom are special forces veterans, to sign onto our recent effort. They formed three boarding crews. I would welcome the assistance of ships
Seafloat
,
Chapultepec Castle
and
Pointe Du Hoc
, and captains Cordova, Wurtzman and Hoffman.”

Hartman gave her a quick smile. “Captain Yamaguchi, I direct you to attack the Market world in system HD 128311, to destroy this Traffic Control station, and to destroy all facilities which support this slave-taking enterprise! Use the ships you just named.” In the holo, the two JCS generals looked briefly surprised, then shut down their expressions as their commander in chief made battle policy. “Coordinate with General Poindexter on the additional crew you will need, see to any refueling of your ship that is needed, deposit the Alien crews on Mars as you outlined to my generals, then hightail it to this star system with your allied ships.” The woman paused, then grinned big. “But first, bring your starship to the White House! I insist on meeting you, your XO and your Alien crewmates!”

Bill nearly fell over at the sudden change in the president’s manner. One moment she was FDR commanding the storming of the beaches at Normandy. Another moment she was the natural born politician who foresaw the impact on voters of an American starship landing in the middle of Washington D.C.

Jane looked shocked. Then she moved to parade rest stance in view of the change in her commander’s manner. Bill joined Richardson in moving to parade rest. His wife frowned. “Madame President, the Magfield drive of this starship can land this ship on the surface of any planet. But the
Blue Sky
is very large. It measures a thousand feet in length and three hundred feet wide at the nose of its teardrop shape. Where can I land her?”

Hartman frowned briefly, then smiled. It was an honest, normal smile, with nothing political in it. “On the South Lawn. And on the Ellipse beyond it. Your ship’s hull will knock down the perimeter fence on Ellipse Road, but I will have the Secret Service erect a temporary fence around the entire Ellipse.”

Jane knew as well as Bill did that the South Lawn was where Marine One always landed when carrying the president. But so far as he knew, no other aircraft ever landed on White House grounds. This was something new. His wife nodded slowly. “That should be enough room if I park the nose of the ship just below the balustrade of the South Portico. But the fountain in the pond at the south end of the lawn will likely be damaged. And we may take out some trees on either side of the South Lawn. Do you mind?”

The woman shook her head. “No problem. A starship filled with Aliens from other stars takes precedence over some trees and a wading pool!”

Jane smiled. “I am happy to bring this ship to visit you at the White House, as soon as I finish our debrief with the JCS, and our transport returns from taking captives home. Will an arrival in two hours be agreeable?”

Hartman looked pleased. She nodded quickly. “Yes, that will be just fine!” Her expression suddenly went serious. “And do not worry about being greeted by the asshole who talked about your capture of the first three starships! My former chief of staff is now cleaning the restrooms at the Smithsonian!”

Relief showed on Jane’s face. Encountering the person whose loose mouth had led to the deaths of a million Kievan citizens was not something he or Jane ever wished to experience. “Thank you! It is good to hear that person is no longer employed at the White House. My XO, Vice Admiral Richardson, my crew and I all look forward to meeting you!”

Hartman resumed her casual, Good Ole Girl manner. “Good. It is settled. See you in two hours. General Poindexter, handle the details for the new offense with Captain Yamaguchi. I have an address to make to Congress before this starship lands!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

As the image of President Hartman vanished, the holo filled with Poindexter and McAuley on the left and Jane on the right. The Peterson satellite control room was busy as usual with staff and officers coming and going. Jane looked thoughtful, perhaps due to the enormity of their impending invasion of the Market world star system. Both generals now relaxed their formal stances.

Poindexter smiled at them. “At ease, Captain Yamaguchi, XO MacCarthy and Vice Admiral Richardson. We have a lot to do in the next two hours.”

Bill sat in his Ship Weapons station seat, as Richardson also sat at his Liaison station. Behind them Jane also sat. His wife nodded. “Thank you, general. I prefer informality when possible.”

“I  do too,” the black woman said, glancing to the JCS chairman, whose ‘at ease’ posture looked more ‘battle ready’ than relaxed. “Much as that may surprise some of my compatriots.” The woman took an iPad from a hovering major, glanced at it, winced, then looked up. “The military attaché from the Ukraine informs me that the casualty toll from the antimatter attack is at least a million dead, with forty-three thousand injured from falling buildings and blast debris. The president of Ukraine is alive. He was visiting a base outside the city when the beam hit. The attaché says most of the Podil’S’Kyi, Solom’Yans’Kyi and Syevchenky districts of downtown Kiev were vaporized. That is four square miles. The suburbs east of the Dnieper River and west of the downtown ring highway are intact.”

Bill had never been to the Ukraine but he had admired the Ukrainian defense of their eastern provinces after the Russians poured in tanks and troops to help separatist rebels control that industrial area of the nation. The rebels still controlled those areas but Putin’s successor had not tried to expand Russian control. Maybe that was due to the increase in NATO troop levels in the Baltics. Or the arms sent to Kiev by the EU. Whatever, what most mattered now was that all of humanity was threatened by the Buyer society. Which was why the JCS had shared plenty of Jane’s datafiles with the Japanese, Chinese and Russians. Jane looked sad at what the general had just shared.

“I am very sorry to hear about the Ukrainian losses,” she said. “However, Captain Cordova was able to block the launch of two thermonuke torps from the cockroach ship. At five warheads per torp, with each warhead being three megatons, he saved ten other cities from destruction.”

“I know that,” Poindexter said. “We were monitoring the boarding of that ship by Cordova’s team. And observed the valiant work of your XO in coming to the aid of a fellow SEAL.”

The mention of his name prompted Bill to ask something he’d wondered about ever since Hartman had talked with Jane. “General Poindexter, I believe you saw in the imagery of my team’s takeover of that ship’s Command Bridge that one of the captives was a Russian air force captain. He asked whether we would share any of the captured Collector ships with other nations. I gather from what President Hartman said that America is claiming ownership of all the ships?”

Poindexter looked his way. “You gather correctly. President Hartman has long emphasized the need for rebuilding American naval, air and ground forces. Thanks to her we now have a 400 ship navy. The army is two divisions stronger. And our air force squadrons are increased by a third.” The woman looked aside as another aide approached and handed her an iPad. She looked at it, then set it down on the video display table. Her expression remained casual but command serious. “The Ukraine ambassador has asked for an emergency meeting of the UN Security Council. We are informed they will ask to put Diligent Taskmaster on trial before the International Criminal Court for genocide.” She blinked. “I expect the UN General Assembly to also pass a resolution declaring the captured Collector ships are the common property of humanity, with a demand we turn over control of them to some UN bureaucrats. Which will never happen.”

Jane did not look surprised. “Glad to hear that. However, with three Collector ships remaining in Sol system, you will have plenty of opportunity to reward friends with trips to Mars, Jupiter, anywhere some think-tank group thinks is worth exploring. I suspect the UN will want their own dome on Mars next to our jail dome.”

Poindexter shrugged, then sat down. McAuley also sat at the display table, his expression almost mild by comparison to earlier times. “The ships
Tangi Valley
,
Rolling Thunder
,
Takur Ghar
, and their captains Slowzenski, Watanabe and Hodson, will go where we and the president direct them to go. For myself, I think giving our NATO and Japanese friends free rides to Mars as one of our ships carries food supplies to the jail dome makes sense. If some UN bureaucrat wants to go to Mars, they can pay the cost of passage!”

Jane chuckled. “Sounds delightful to me.”

Poindexter smiled again. “The thought does entertain. Now, to business. The president said we need to get you additional crew for your three other expeditionary ships, get you refueled as needed and allow your ship to transport the Alien captives to this jail dome on Mars. After which you head out to destroy this Market world. What do you need to achieve these objectives?”

Behind Bill the entry door to the bridge opened. He glanced back. It was Builder of Joy returning from his transport of captives to their home cities. The flying squirrel lifted his long tail, stretched his arms wide enough to show his flight flaps, then waved at Bill as the pilot sat at his station to the right of Jane. Who now responded to the woman who was her ultimate boss.

“General Poindexter, I think—”

“Call me Harriet,” the general interrupted, gesturing to her right. “He does. If a Marine general can allow himself to be first name informal, I damn well think that is just fine for all of us!”

In the comlink holo, Jane looked pleased. “Thank you, Harriet. I had hoped you understood my informality when Bill returned from combat on the
Seafloat
. He is my husband and I was glad to see him return safe. As I am sure you were happy to hear your son and his family were safe.”

The black woman sobered briefly at the mention of her active duty Air Force son, then returned to her casual manner. “I did understand your need to do that. No one here at Peterson has any issue with your informality. Or with the informality of former SEAL Bill MacCarthy, who did a fine job training our boarding teams, I might say.” She paused and sat back in her seat. “So. What do you need?”

Jane also sat back in her seat, her manner respectfully casual. “The three ships that will accompany the
Blue Sky
to the target star need two crew apiece. Perhaps while we are at the White House they can travel to MacDill, orbit above it and send down a transport for six volunteers?”

Poindexter nodded quickly. “That will work. I will get word to Lieutenant General Janet Osimayo. She’s in charge of USSOCOM at MacDill. She
will
get you some volunteers. Your transport can land at the MacDill runway.”

“And I will get word to some Marines to also show up!” McAuley said quickly. “Your Marine Bob is now Navigator on the
Seafloat
. He needs some Marine company.”

Poindexter smiled quickly. “Thank you, Paul. I’m sure that between the Marines and the Air Force we can find six fine volunteers. And six more for the ships left behind. Next item?”

“We need a replacement Magfield engine for the
Pointe Du Hoc
,” Jane said. “You may recall during our Moon battle a thermonuke plasma ball made near contact with that ship’s hull,” she said, sounding worried. “The loss of one of the ship’s two Magfield engines limits its normal space speed to five percent of lightspeed.”

Poindexter frowned. “Which means it will be at a disadvantage in any combat action at the Market world system. Do you have a solution?”

“Yes,” Jane said, glancing over at the CNO. “If Vice Admiral . . . if Chester will order one of the two space-going subs to land at Norfolk, your shipyard crews could remove the Magfield engine we gave to the sub. Our transport will be at MacDill near Tampa. It could use its magnetic grapples to grab the engine and transport it to the
Pointe Du Hoc
. After which new crew folks will be delivered to Alicia’s ship and the five other ships.”

The Air Force chief looked to their Liaison officer. “Chester, Jane’s ships all need to make one-tenth lightspeed, which requires two Magfield engines. Take care of this.”

The CNO nodded quickly. “I will. The
Louisiana
has the most damage of our two subs. I will order Captain Baraka to land at Norfolk. We can have the engine dismounted and ready for pickup by tomorrow morning.”

“Wonderful,” Jane said, sounding pleased.

Poindexter looked to her. “Next item?”

“On fuel, we run our fusion reactors and our Magfield spacedrives on deuterium and tritium isotopes. Your supply of those isotopes are mostly in your thermonuke warheads.” Jane looked up front. “Time Marker, what is the fuel status for this ship?”

“Fuel reserve was 87 percent full upon our arrival in Sol system,” the black-skinned walking snake hissed. “Fuel reserve level is now at 84 percent. That is enough fuel for eleven months of constant operation of ship reactors and engines. Fuel reserve levels for the six Collector ships you mentioned are not known to me.”

“Captain,” called Star Traveler from the ceiling speaker. “Fuel reserve status for those ships is presently 92 percent.”

Jane blinked. “Oh, yeah. They came here directly after fueling up at the fuel globes above planet five in HD 128311.” She looked away from Time Marker and to the Chief of the Air Force. “Harriet, the only ready source of such isotopes are the atmospheres of Jupiter and Saturn. That requires the fabrication of a fuel extraction depot and storage globes above one of the gas giants. The
Blue Sky
has more than enough fuel for our two day trip to the target. We will refuel at the planet five depot after we destroy the Traffic Control station and Market compounds.”

“I like your confidence,” the general said. “And I will order one of the remaining ships to build an orbiting fuel depot above Jupiter. Other items?”

Jane looked his way. “On the prisoner issue, the Alien crew held on the three ships that stay here can be transferred to our three attack ships while we are at the White House,” she said. “Our ships will then transport them to a jail dome on Mars. With no spacesuits, they will be unable to leave the dome. However, as we have promised our ship AIs, the former crews of the six ships will live out their lives on Mars, assuming they are willing to work at growing their own food. Water deposits in the canyon will provide them with drinking water and oxygen. One of the remaining ships can transport a submarine fission reactor to Mars to provide power for the dome. Bill, any comments on the prisoners?”

He looked at the comlink holo, catching the attention of both McAuley and Poindexter. “Paul and Harriet, I will personally see to the safe and
secure
deposit of the 30 Alien persons who used to run our ships. I have a promise to keep. One I made to Diligent Taskmaster when he came back to this system.”

McAuley half-grinned. “Mr. SEAL, I
like
your promises. Liked what I heard in the holo of your first escape, and what you later said to this piece of interstellar trash! Make sure you broadcast videos of the jail dome and the barrenness of Mars to the civilians on this Market world. Maybe the word will get out that visiting Earth earns you capture and a nasty jail house.”

Bill liked the chairman’s idea. “Paul, I will be glad to share that video with the Aliens on the Market world. We will leave intact their ability to trade with incoming starships, and the fuel depot at their planet five will make it worthwhile for ships to visit. The word will spread. Eventually to the 61 Market worlds and all the 413 star systems with Buyers.”

Both McAuley and Poindexter turned command serious. “So. We are at war with 413 star systems?” McAuley said in a low growl.

Jane grimaced. “Yes, that is true. But most of those stars are hundreds to thousands of light years distant from Earth. I doubt they will ever visit Earth. However, on our trip home, my XO and I discussed how we could do more than hit-and-run attacks on Market worlds. He suggested a NATO of the stars.” She gestured to her left and ahead. “My two Megun crew people belong to a culture that has full control of their star system, has industrial factories in orbit and was able to rebuild my two damaged transports and create the microelectronic components we needed to rebuild one of this ship’s two Magfield engines. We could offer them a defense alliance.”

Poindexter looked thoughtful now. “Excellent idea. An alliance of several star systems would be a fine deterrent to future Collector ship attacks on any member star. These Megun people are a high technology society. What about the cultures of your other crew members? Could they be part of this alliance?”

Jane lifted an eyebrow. “I will ask them. Time Marker, would your Slinkeroo people wish to join such an alliance?”

The yellow electrical nimbus that hovered above the long, low, four-legged body of their Engines chief flared outward briefly. His triangular head turned toward Jane. Two blue eyes fixed on her. A fringe of six tentacles circled his neck. The tentacles moved intentionally, acting like long fingers. He opened his sharp-toothed mouth. “Our world has laser devices to defend against infalling asteroids,” he hissed low. “We built our first spaceship, just before I was captured. We have adequate technology. I myself built time markers that track atomic particle changes. Our people cooperated to defeat the creatures of our jungle world. I believe we would cooperate with this alliance.”

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