Invasion: Alaska (55 page)

“Yet for the love of China, you would willingly give it up?”

“Utterly,” said Han.

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lipstick-painted lips. “Then I must tell you this, Captain Han. And I want you to listen most closely. Are you listening?”

He nodded fervently, beginning to hate her. He should strip off her nylons and flip up her skirt, put her over his knees and spank her until she begged him to stop.

She snapped her fingers. “What is that look in your eyes?” she asked. “They glaze over as I speak to you. Are you drugged, Captain Han?”

“I’ve worked hard for China’s glory,” he said quietly, trying to pump patriotism into his words. What was wrong with him? Why did he keep sinking into his sexual fantasies? Was it a side-effect of the many dosages of S-15 they kept injecting into him? “It has been my privilege to strive for China’s honor, yet I’ve begun to wonder lately if I’ve overworked myself. I might no longer be able to function with full efficiency. Perhaps I must decline returning to the remote—”

The major laughed. “That is a good try, Captain. But you have apparently forgotten that I am a psychiatrist. I can see through your pathetic attempt to dodge the death-shocks. You may love China, but you love your own well-being far too much. That is clear. Now you may avoid further death-shocks by admitting to me that you’re a coward. Then I will request the enforcing arm of the remote-controllers to make an example of you. We psychiatrists designed the shocks to stimulate a soldier’s battlefield efforts. We wanted you remote-controllers to perform your tasks with zeal. We wanted you to act with a soldier’s kill-or-die fervor.”

“But I’ve been part of the suicide assaults!” cried Han. “Your reasoning and the shocks are unjust.”

“Stop right there or face the enforcement arm,” the major said coldly. “Your kind disgusts me.” She shook her head. “I can hardly force myself to give you another chance. Still, I follow my orders instead of indulging in my desire, which is to see a worm like you punished to the full extent of the military penal code. However, because I am here to give you a choice, I will still allow you to make one. Tell me which you prefer: enforcement or the chance to win even more glory by returning to your remote-controlling station?”

“Are there others like me?” asked Han. “Men who are tiring of the shocks?”

Her features tightened. “That is privileged information, Captain. Now you must give me your choice.”

Han almost turned and slapped her face, and there was no telling what he would have done next. Maybe he would have raped her here in the office. He’d never forget the experience. His shoulders slumped. The problem was that East Lightning would torture him a long time if he did that. Han hung his head. He nodded submissively.

“I would like to return to service,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Very well,” she said. “Then I am required to inform you of a surprising development. My superiors believe this information will heighten your enthusiasm for combat, although after speaking to you I have my doubts. Know, Captain Han, that you have achieved one of the highest kill-rates. If by the end of the conflict, you have achieved the highest kill ratio, you will be promoted to major.”

“Oh,” he said. Then he realized she might mark him down for lack of enthusiasm. He forced a smile. “I am delighted to hear this. I will perform to the satisfaction of the Space Service.”

“Hmm,” she said, as she tapped her computer-stylus against her slate. “This is against my better judgment, but my superiors are interested in knowing if you would rather return to controlling Marauders or go back to controlling recon drones. We have found that it is wiser for the remote-controllers to gain proficiency in one area rather than spreading his talents. Because you are rated an expert at each, you now have this choice. The greater need, however, is for good Marauder controllers.”

“I love China with all my heart,” said Han, “but I would prefer the recon drones. They are more like the space vehicles I was trained to fly.”

The major frowned, making notes on the slate. “Very well, Captain Han, you have made your choice. I’m not surprised you ran back to controlling recon drones. Because of that, I am recommending that you be watched even more strictly than before.”

That sounded ominous, and Han feared for his future, but he wasn’t going to change his decision. He dreaded another death-shock and he would do just about anything to avoid receiving it.

***

Nine hours later, he was back in the Nexus Center. They had honored his request, and he now controlled a fleet drone from a pit. The two former techs continued to work with him.

Han wore a VR helmet and twitch gloves. His long-endurance drone was high in the air, taking the place of a regular recon satellite. This close to America, such recon satellites were easy targets for the North American ABM Lasers. Because of that, the invasion fleet had come to rely on the high-flying drones for advanced reconnaissance in the outer zones.

The techs had explained it to Han so he understood the importance of his mission. There was growing evidence the Americans would stab at the fleet. Therefore, Admiral Ling had moved his ships and spread out his recon net. The techs had explained to Han the various dangers. The Americans had several weapon’s platforms to use against the fleet, particularly against the seven supercarriers. First, were aircraft, whether carrier-launched or land-based. Next were cruise missiles, which were a form of aircraft electronically controlled by a battle-computer. The same defensive basics would protect the fleet from both aircraft and cruise missiles. There were also ASBM-attacks and submarine assaults via cruise missiles or torpedoes.

Han’s role as a remote-controller of a recon drone was as an early-warning tripwire against aircraft and cruise missiles. The Navy had another means for spotting torpedo-launching subs.

The Chinese carriers had moved well away from the Kenai Peninsula. The admiral had taken his ships farther south and westward, giving the fleet a greater cushion. Many of the naval strike-craft battling for Alaskan air superiority used airbases behind the present Chinese line-of-advance.

The seven carriers had three protective zones. The first was the primary zone. It extended forty to fifty kilometers from the carriers and their escorts. Ship-borne sensors monitored this zone. Electronic weapons defended the carriers. There were jetfighters, surface-to-air missiles, guns and jammers to blind cruise-missile homing systems. Helicopters and ships also gave off carrier-like signals to try to fool the enemy weapons into firing at them instead of the more critical aircraft carriers.

Carrier-launched patrol-craft monitored the middle zone. The carriers’ fighters were the chief defenders here. However, if given enough warning time, ships would attempt to maneuver into position, interposing themselves between the enemy and the carriers. Those defensive ships would then use primary zone weapons and tactics to defeat the enemy.

The last and largest zone was the outer one. It extended seven hundred kilometers and beyond. Satellites, land-based patrol-craft and stationary sensor-systems gave advanced warning. In lieu of satellites, long-endurance, high-flying drones had taken their place. The techs had informed Han that the outer zone was probably the most important. It gave the fleet needed warning time in order to launch attack-craft against cruise-missile launchers (ships or submarines) and against enemy carriers before the enemy got into an attack position. It also gave warning time to send defensive ships into position between the enemy and the precious carriers.

Han had listened to their explanations, given the correct responses and entered the pit. The moment he donned the VR helmet, however, he silently vowed to himself that he would avoid all death-shocks.

They care nothing about me. I must save myself or lose my sanity as they shock me into imbecility
.

What did he owe China anyway, if China did nothing to look after him? Was he supposed to give up everything he valued for a concept?

No!

It was ludicrous for anyone to think he would. So what if he was Chinese? Did that mean he let other Chinese shock him? He wasn’t crazy, but they were making him so. Yes, he could understand the reasoning behind the shocks. Maybe mild ones would help. But they had gone too far. The simulation of death….

They’re killing me
.

Well, he would no longer have any part of it. If they were going to threaten him…he’d have to watch out for himself, that’s all.

Han sat in the Mukden pit, in the padded chair, twitching his gloves. He saw things from the drone’s perspective—far below was the Pacific Ocean. There were wispy clouds and way down he spied the choppy water. Even though he was in the pit, he seemed to soar in the heavens and let himself relax.

From time to time, he shifted and rerouted certain key monitoring systems aboard the drone. Nothing must alert the watching techs, certainly not active radar readings. If he used the drone’s radar to spot something deadly, the Americans would know. If the Americans knew, they would launch missiles at him. If the missiles destroyed the drone, he would receive the death-shock. Therefore, the reasoning was obvious. He must remain quietly unaware of anything. That meant shutting off passive systems as well. For if the techs saw anything strange on their boards, they would force him to turn on the active radar.

With great computer cunning, Han put a repeater pattern before his active systems, and then he shut them down. The techs would never suspect. Later, a few minutes before he came out of the pit, he would reactive the systems.

“It is quiet today,” a tech said some time later.

“That makes me suspicious,” said Han.

“Our boards show nothing unwarranted. Why are you suspicious?”

“Are you kidding?” asked Han. “I spoke with the psychiatrist. She showed me why it is important I do my task no matter how painful it might be to me.”

“That is a wise attitude, Captain. The talk did you good.”

“I realize now how important my task is,” Han said.

“Good. Now less talk and give more attention to detail.”

“I agree,” said Han, who within his helmet smiled hugely to himself.

An hour later, Captain Han spied movement far below the drone. It made his heart race. He quickly changed his flight pattern and focused his cameras on a different part of the grid.

“Are you well, Captain?” a tech asked. “Your health monitor shows that your heart-rate has increased.”

“That is interesting,” said Han.

“I see nothing on the boards,” the other tech said.

“What frightened you, Captain?”

“A stray thought concerning my personal life,” Han said. “It is nothing.”

“Keep your mind focused, Captain. Your session ends in another two hours. Worry about your personal life then.”

“Yes, sir,” said Han.

“Humph,” said the tech. “He’s acting strangely.”

The other tech didn’t say anything to that, so Han no longer worried. He had set up a visual pattern for himself and for the techs on their boards. In other words, he’d blinded the recon drone. If his heart rate would give him away, he’d be content to look at nothing so that didn’t happen. Just as long as no machine death-shocked him anymore. Then he could begin to relax and regain his normal cheery composure.

Thirty-five minutes later, an alarm went off in the chamber. It shook Han awake from his semi-slumber. He blinked groggily in his helmet as the techs shouted at each other.

“Captain Han! Captain Han!” one of them shouted at him. “Check your systems. Are they active?”

“Yes, yes,” said Han, “of course they are.” Frightened, he began to reengage each of the systems. Perhaps he was too sleepy. He didn’t do it with as much skill as he’d demonstrated when de-activating them.

“What are you doing?” cried a tech.

“What’s the matter anyway?” asked Han, who glove-twitched furiously. “Why all the alarm?”

There was silence from the techs as Han began to twitch with greater awareness.

“What’s this, Captain?” a tech shouted. “You just switched one of the drone’s settings.”

“You must be mistaken,” said Han.

“He’s turning the systems on and off,” the other tech said in wonder.

At that moment, there was loud banging, like a door striking a wall. Feet pounded on the chamber’s floor and equipment clattered against what sounded like body-armor. Thoroughly frightened, Han tore off his helmet. An enforcer-lieutenant entered the room and pointed a gun at him, with three other scary-looking sergeants doing the same thing.

“What’s the matter?” cried Han.

“Sabotage!” shouted the lieutenant, his muscular face a blotchy red color.

Han looked up at the bewildered techs.

“The American carriers used your recon corridor!” the lieutenant shouted. “Their aircraft are attacking our carriers as we speak! Captain Han, you are under arrest as a CIA spy. So are you two! You filthy traitors sicken me.”

“No, no!” shouted the shorter tech. “It was all Captain Han’s fault. Without our knowledge, he de-activated his drone’s sensors.” The man pointed at Han down in the pit.

The lieutenant stepped up to the tech. With his gun-holding hand, he smashed the man across the forehead. The tech crashed to the floor, moaning and clutching his bleeding head.