The Fall: Crimson Worlds IX (31 page)

“We’re detecting a large nuclear detonation, sir.  Approximately 400,000 kilometers ahead, along our current course.”

Stark’s base, Campbell thought.  Is it possible?  He’d been on his way to attack the facility, but he had no idea who else might have beat him to it.  Perhaps Stark had ordered the base destroyed after he’d realized it had been discovered. 

“I want a full energy analysis on the explosion.”  Stark would never give up without a fight, Campbell thought…so if that was his base, it means he got away somehow.  “And all ships are to scan full in all directions.  I want any contact reported…energy, particle, whatever.  Nothing is too small.”

“Yes, sir.”  Christensen relayed Campbell’s message through the fleet com.  Then she activated the AI and instructed it to analyze the incoming data.

“Scanning data supports the sudden release of a previously-controlled fusion reaction of sufficient size to sustain itself for several seconds after loss of containment.”  The AI’s tone was moderately androgynous, and Campbell had never been able to decide if it had been modeled after a man’s voice or a woman’s.  “Concentration of heavy materials in spectral analysis also supports the hypothesis of the sudden failure of a fusion power reactor encased in an asteroid.  Probability 94%.”

“Let’s go a little closer in and have a look.  Just to make sure.”  Campbell didn’t trust Stark, and he was going to be damned sure he knew what had happened before he headed back to Mars.

“Any other contacts?”  He asked almost as an afterthought.

Christensen was staring into the scope.  “Just picking them up now, sir.  Approximately 20-25 ships.”

Campbell’s head whipped around.  He’d asked almost as a reflex.  He hadn’t expected to detect other ships out here.  “Full report, Commander!” 

“Definite spread pattern formation.  The vessels seem to be searching for something.  They are covering a wide dispersal pattern.”  She paused, staring into her scope.  “Admiral!”  Her voice spiked high with surprise and her head popped up.  “They are transmitting Alliance protocols.”

Campbell was surprised again.  He hadn’t expected to run into any ships out here at all besides Captain Jennings’ Torch.  But a whole Alliance fleet?

“Initiate contact, Commander.”

“Contacts confirmed, sir.  It looks like approximately 40 vessels, Admiral.”  The officer was reading the data as it came in.  “Their original course suggests they were bound for the base, sir, but after the detonation, they altered course and they now appear to be searching for something.

“They’re searching for the same thing we are, Lieutenant.  We’re on the same team, so let’s join forces.  Get me a channel.”  Mondragon sat in his command chair, staring at the plot of ships heading for him.

“Your line is open, sir.”

“Attention incoming vessels, this is Admiral Francisco Mondragon of the Alliance navy.  Please identify yourselves.”  There was a brief pause, about half a second each way for the signals to cross the space between the fleets.

“Admiral Mondragon, this is Admiral Duncan Campbell, Martian Confederation navy.  Welcome back to the Sol system.”

“Thank you, Admiral.  May I assume that you are attempting to find the same vessel I am seeking?”  Mondragon leaned back in his chair, waiting for the response.

“We were searching for a ship we believe carries Gavin Stark, Admiral Mondragon.  You may have more information than we do.”  Campbell paused.  “We’re simply going on the assumption that Stark escaped the destruction of his base and is out here somewhere in one of his stealth vessels.”

Mondragon smiled.  “Your assumption is excellent, Admiral Campbell.  And yes, we are also searching for Stark’s vessel.  One of our people was able to sneak onboard, but we have been unable to locate the ship since leaving the vicinity of the base.”  He sighed softly.  “I’m afraid we were caught rather close to the explosion, and by the time we were able to clear our scanners, the vessel had vanished from our scopes.

“Admiral Mondragon, the enemy vessel has reappeared on our scanning plots.  It is 145,000 kilometers from our current position, moving at 3,850 kilometers per second.”

Mondragon’s head snapped around.  “Lieutenant, advise General Teller.  He has a strike team loaded up and ready for a boarding operation.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mondragon flipped his com back to Campbell’s channel.  “Admiral, we believe we have located Stark’s vessel.”

“We have too, Admiral.”  There was a grim tone to Campbell’s voice.  “We have too.”

“All laser batteries, prepare to fire at my command.”  Campbell turned his head sharply.  “Engine room, I want 3g thrust in 15 seconds.”

Campbell turned and stared straight ahead.  It was time.  The butcher, the murderer who’d attacked Mars’ cities…it was time for him to pay the price.

“Engineering reports ready, sir.  Commander Vandebaran reports reactor up to 55% output.”

Campbell nodded.  “Very well.”  He allowed himself a feral smile as his eyes focused on the scanner.  Vandebaran had exceeded all timetables.  John Carter’s reactor had been a pile of scrap, but somehow he’d managed to put it back together.  The ship wasn’t really combat-ready, not by any reasonable standard, but she was more than capable of blasting Stark’s ship to atoms.

“I want targeting information updated every 15 seconds.  Projected time to firing range, four minutes, ten seconds.”  Campbell took a deep breath.  In less than five minutes, Stark would be dead.  He didn’t know how much comfort it would give to the displaced masses back home, but it would be a measure of justice at least.

“Admiral, I have an incoming message from Admiral Mondragon.”

“Put it through, Commander.”

“Admiral Campbell, my forces have a landing craft inbound toward the subject vessel.  General Erik Cain is aboard, and Marines are en route to rescue him and terminate Gavin Stark.  Please place your offensive operation on hold until further notice.”

Campbell stared at the plot on the screen.  He was looking at the small red dot that represented Stark’s ship, but in his mind he was seeing the nuclear explosions on the surface of Mars, the magnificent domes cracking, shattering, falling to the ground in a sea of shards.  Stark had to die.  Nothing could be allowed to interfere with that.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Admiral.”

Mondragon was staring at his com unit, a stunned look on his face.  “I repeat, Admiral Campbell.  We have Alliance personnel both on that ship and inbound to it.  Cease all offensive operations until further notice.”

“I’m sorry, Admiral Mondragon.  But there is simply too great a danger for the enemy to escape.  If that ship is able to re-engage its stealth systems, we could both lose Stark.”

Mondragon’s faced hardened.  He understood Campbell’s motivations, but he wasn’t about to let the Martian fleet blow that ship apart, not while there was a chance Cain was still alive.

“Admiral Campbell, I am going to ask you one final time.  Stand down immediately and cease all offensive operations against that vessel.”  Mondragon’s voice was like ice.  “I am not going to repeat myself.”

He stared down at the silent com for a few seconds then he turned toward the tactical station.  “Lieutenant, bring the fleet to battlestations.  All vessels are to target the Martian fleet.”

The officer stared back for an instant, his eyes glazed over with shock.  “Yes, sir,” he finally stammered.

An instant later the battlestations lamps came on, bathing the bridge in a red glow.  Mondragon took a deep breath.  He’d expected a lot of potential dangers when Garret had sent him back to Sol ahead of the rest of the fleet, but a battle with the Martians wasn’t one of them.

“Give me an open channel, Lieutenant.  I want the fleet and the Martians to hear this.”

“Yes sir.”  A moment’s pause.  “You are live, Admiral.”

“Attention all units, this is Admiral Mondragon.  We are in pursuit of what we believe to be Gavin Stark’s spacecraft.  General Erik Cain is also on the ship, and we have detached a Marine boarding party that is currently en route.”  His voice was firm, even harsh.  He wasn’t going to let the Martians destroy that ship with Cain on it.  Not while there was still a chance he was alive.

“I have requested the Martian fleet stand down and allow us to complete this operation, but my requests have been refused.”  He paused, staring at the com unit in his hand for a few seconds.  “You are to stand by with all weapons ready.  If the Martian fleet closes to within less than 100,000 kilometers of the subject craft, all units are to open fire.  You are to attempt to disable rather than destroy the Martian vessels, however your priority is to prevent them from entering firing range of Stark’s ship.”

Mondragon made a chopping motion with his hand, and he leaned back.  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  His palms were soaked in sweat, and he was nauseous.  The Martian fleet outweighed his, but they had massive battle damage too.  He didn’t know if his people could win the fight he was on the verge of starting, but he knew one thing.  He wouldn’t back down.  Not while Cain and the rest of the Marines were out there.

“All Alliance vessels are fully-armed, and their targeting systems are activated, sir.”

Campbell sat motionless on his chair, staring out at the screen and the two rough lines of dots facing each other.  Would Mondragon really do it?  Would he open fire on an allied fleet to save one man?

His mind was racing.  He wanted Stark dead so badly he could hardly keep the thought from his head, even for an instant.  If Cain was on that ship, Campbell thought, he was probably dead already.  But he knew Mondragon would never relent.  Not until he knew for sure.  Erik Cain was one of the Alliance’s greatest heroes, and his comrades would never leave him if there was the slightest chance he was alive.

“We’re at 110,000 kilometers, Admiral.”  There was an uncomfortable pause.  “If we’re going to engage the Alliance fleet, we need to plot targeting solutions immediately.”

Campbell didn’t answer.  He just sat, staring straight ahead.

“Down to 105,000, sir.”

“Put me on a wide channel line.”

“Ready, Admiral.”

“Attention all fleet units, this is Admiral Campbell.  The fleet will proceed on the current course, but no ship will fire except as I expressly authorize.  All units are to assume positions surrounding the enemy vessel.  You are not to interfere with the Marine operation underway, however, if the enemy ship engages its engines or activates its stealth system, all vessels are ordered to fire at once.”  He paused.  “You are not to attack any Alliance ships unless our fleet is fired upon.  In that event, you are to fully engage and seek to neutralize the attacking vessels.”

There, Campbell thought, I blinked…but only with one eye.  “Let’s see if Admiral Mondragon meets me halfway,” he muttered softly.  He stared at the screen and waited.  He knew he only had a middling hand, but he wasn’t ready to fold.  Not yet.  He didn’t thing Mondragon’s cards were any better.

“Get that thing open.  Now!”  Teller was standing behind the docking collar as the technicians attached it to the hull of the stealthship.  He was edgy, impatient.  It had been just like Erik Cain to sneak onto the enemy ship by himself, and damned the consequences.  Teller knew Cain was ready to die to kill Stark, but taking on entire ship by himself was too much, even for the Marines’ great stoic.

The two fleets had fallen into an uneasy standoff, Mondragon matching Campbell’s compromise.  But things were still tense, and Teller knew time was of the essence.  He’d almost given up hope before, but when the stealth field went down he knew Cain was still alive and fighting.  And his Marines were not about to abandon him.

“OK, you guys are all set.”  The technicians stood aside, allowing the Marines to crawl through the small tube connecting the ships.

Teller was first, dressed in fatigues, and carrying an assault rifle in his hand.  He crawled through and jumped out into the enemy cargo hold, springing into combat position and scanning the room quickly.  There was a body in the middle of the floor – probably Cain’s work, he thought – but no live enemies.

He raced to the door, waving for the others to follow behind as he leapt out into the hall.  There were bodies in the corridor as well, and one hanging down from a ladder leading to the upper deck.

He ran down to the end of the hall, looking up and down the shaftway.  He couldn’t see anything, but an instant later he froze.  He could hear something, the sounds of fighting…from the upper deck.  He felt his heart race.  Unless Stark’s people were fighting each other, it had to be Cain up there.

He reached out and grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder.  “Let’s go, Marines.  It’s time to finish this.”

Cain stood laughing as he stared at the shattered wreck of Stark’s stealth device.  There were shards all around, and the strange green light inside was extinguished.  Cain had no idea how the thing had worked, but he was damned sure it was a pile of junk now.

He turned and moved toward the door.  He was weak and tired, and his body was wracked with pain, but he had a job to do, and he’d be damned to hell if he was going to quit this close.

He opened the door and ran out onto the bridge, screaming a bloodthirsty war cry and firing with pistols in each hand.  His training and instincts took over and directed his shots with deadly accuracy.  There were half a dozen spacers on the bridge, and he took down four of them in an instant.

He leapt forward, diving over a large console, firing behind him as he did.  He took the fifth of Stark’s men in the shoulder then, an instant later, right through the eyes.  He ducked back just as the door opened, and two more guards raced in.  They took cover to either side of the door, crouched behind two workstations.

Cain was gasping for air, every breath a searing agony.  He was covered in blood, and he was almost out of ammunition.  There were three men left in the room with him, perhaps the only three on the whole ship.  The last member of the bridge crew had ducked behind a large structural support.  Cain hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but he knew it had to be Stark.

“I am here for you, Gavin Stark.  It is time for you to pay for your crimes.”  Cain was weak, his endurance fading.  But somehow he managed to keep his voice loud and strong.

“Who is that?”  Stark’s voice boomed out from behind his cover.  “What do you want?”

Cain felt a strange surge of energy, a power from somewhere deep within him, some recess in his mind where the darkest part of his soul dwelled.  “I am Erik Cain, you son of a bitch.”  His voice rose to a booming crescendo.  “And I am here to take your miserable life.”

He threw himself over the console, rolling across the top, firing away toward the door.  The two guards were taken by surprise by the bold move, and both fell to the ground, riddled with Cain’s bullets.

He didn’t even pause to watch them hit the ground.  He spun around, diving forward to get a shot at Stark.  He whipped up his gun and fired…and then he felt a hammer blow on his chest.

He stumbled back gasping for air, listening to the sucking sound from the hole in his chest.  He saw Stark fall to his hands and knees, grasping at the abdomen.  Cain’s shot had found its mark as well.  He struggled to stay on his feet, somehow, anyhow.  He had to finish this.

Stark had dropped his pistol when Cain’s bullet hit him, and he was crawling toward it, his eyes ablaze with terror and hatred.  Cain still had one pistol in his hand and he aimed it at Stark’s head and pulled the trigger.  Nothing.  It was empty.

Cain threw the gun at Stark and lunged forward, landing with agony on top of his adversary.  He reached down and pulled Stark’s arm out from under him, and they both fell, lying alongside each other gasping for breath.

It was a fight to the finish, a desperate, primal, feral struggle.  Both men were critically wounded, and both were focused solely on the death of the other.  This was a struggle that had begun years before, when Cain had almost shot his political officer.  He and Stark had fought their battle for years, across the vastness of space, and uncounted millions had died.  Now that contest was at an end.  In seconds, a moment or two at most, one of them would stare down into the cold dead eyes of the other, and in that instant they would know victory.

They grabbed onto each other, grappling along the floor, pulling, gouging, driving determined fists into each other’s battered bodies.  It was as nasty as a fight can get, pure murderous combat, their tortured bodies rolling around the bloodsoaked deck of the bridge.

Stark shoved his hand deep into Cain’s shoulder, clawing at the raw, uncovered muscle with all his strength.  Erik screamed at the pain, and poured it all - the agony, the hatred, the memories of death and destruction – into one last effort.  He whipped his body around as hard as he could, pulling himself behind his enemy.  He doubled over in pain as he felt two ribs break, but he bit down and thrust himself up, on top of Stark, slipping his arm around his foe’s neck.

Cain pulled back, straining with every fiber of strength, every ounce of love, hatred, even pain that was left to him.  He tightened his arm, choking the life out of his enemy, driving his knee hard into Stark’s back and holding him in place.  He held on for Elias Holm, for the vengeance he had come to claim…but also for Sarah, so she might have a future unplagued by the likes of Gavin Stark.

Stark let out a muffled roar as he flopped around frantically.  He reached up, pulled at Cain’s arm, slammed his fists into his attacker’s shattered ribs, but nothing could loosen the herculean grip.  Cain had let the monster out completely, surrendering himself utterly to the vengeance-craving beast.  He held on with more strength than he’d dared to imagine he possessed, and his grip was like iron, resolute through all of Gavin Stark’s frantic efforts.

Slowly, steadily, he felt Stark’s resistance weaken.  He held on with all he could, feeling the last of his own strength drain from his body.  The struggle had lasted no more than two minutes, though to Cain it had seemed an eternity.  Finally, slowly, he loosened his arms, and let his enemy fall to the ground with a sickening thud.

He stared down at the cold eyes looking back at him, and he smiled.  Gavin Stark, the scourge of mankind, the greatest mass murderer in human history, was dead.

Cain looked up, but he couldn’t see anything, at least not with his eyes.  He’d fallen right next to Stark’s body, a few seconds after his victory had been won.  His vision was gone, and his hearing.  Even the pain had faded.  There was a vague sense of satisfaction, of having carried out his pledge to kill Stark, but even that dissipated quickly, and he found himself floating in space, strange images passing through his mind.

His mother.  So long ago, yet now he could see her as if it had been yesterday.  Not the emotional wreck that had remained after the family had been forced out of the Protected Zone, but the vibrant and happy woman she’d been before disaster had come for them all.  Seeing her family driven from all they’d ever known and cast out into a vicious urban wasteland had been more than she’d been able to bear, and it had driven her mad.  That was that image of her Erik had always remembered…the broken, silent, ghost of a woman.

Now he saw her as she had been before, when he was a young child…happy, smiling.  His parents hadn’t had much material wealth, but the family had been a happy one.  Cain had forgotten all that, buried it under the frigid exterior he’d developed to survive.  It had been a defense mechanism for most of his life, but now it broke down, and he wept inside for his lost family, for what might have been if they’d lived in different times, or if fortune had been less cruel.  He felt the pain of loss, but he could only watch the images sliding slowly past him.  He wanted to cry, to weep for all that was gone, but he couldn’t.  There were no tears.  Only pain.

Other images floated by.  Will Thompson, Elias Holm, Marines he’d comforted as they lay dying…and others he’d sent to their deaths.  They’d visited him before, late at night, invading his dreams.  Jax.  He still thought of Jax every day.  The big man had been closer than a friend, and the wound left by his loss had never healed.  “Forgive me, brother.”  His lips moved, but he was weak, and the sound didn’t come, just the aching thoughts deep in his mind.

He could feel the blackness deepening, closing in on him, and his thoughts grasped on one last image.  Sarah.  She had been there for so many years, always by his side, even when lightyears separated them.  Even now.

His mind wandered, dancing across the years they’d been together, and the many times they’d been ripped apart by war.  He knew he could never have survived so long, never have accomplished what he had without the strength she’d given to him.

He was grateful she’d come into his life, and he loved her without limit.  But now he felt sorrow, a sadness so deep he could hardly fathom it.  He knew he was dying, and he felt the pain his death would cause her, the loneliness she would feel when he was gone.  He’d done what he had to do; he’d destroyed Gavin Stark.  He’d known his quest might claim his life, but now Sarah would pay the price too.  No, he thought, feeling the last of himself slipping away.  “Live your life, Sarah,” he whispered softly.  “Find happiness.  Don’t spend your days mourning me.”

He felt the darkness coming, and he struggled to hold on to her, to keep her image alive in his mind.  But the blackness was too strong, and she faded away…then it swept over him and he saw nothing.