A Sword Into Darkness (31 page)

“We have a Joint spec-warfare team in Pensacola that’s been trained for zero-g, vacuum combat.  We’ve never had a need for them before, but it always seemed like a good idea to have the capability.  We can use our one remaining SSTOS to rendezvous with the two stolen shuttles, deploy the team, and retake those ships.  We put a military crew onboard both, then when Kelley brings them aboard, we retake the destroyer.”

Tomlinson looked askance at him.  “That seems very much like a ‘best case’ outcome.”

Sykes looked at Volescu, saying nothing until the Army General groaned.  Volescu stood and turned to his Commander-in-Chief.  “Madame President, it could go wrong at any one of a dozen points.  The team may not be able to prep in time.  We will be using untested pilots to do a first-time-ever rendezvous in orbit with
two
other shuttles who will undoubtedly be maneuvering to avoid us.  Assuming we can link up, the hatches are not designed for a commanded entry from the exterior while in orbit, so we would have to blow them, which will kill the renegade crew and make it obvious to Kelley and Munoz that something is up.  Then we have to get aboard the destroyer without it lighting us up, which is pretty much an impossibility.  Best case, we purposely destroy the shuttle carrying most of the crew, kill all the civilians, convince the resupply shuttle to give up or die, and use the two remaining shuttles to somehow sneak aboard the
Sword of Liberty
and then take the big ship.  Probable loss of 25% to 100% of the team, two shuttles, and maybe even the destroyer.  More likely, none of it works at all and Kelley smokes our team from orbit because they’re still trying to take one or both of the stolen shuttles.”

Tomlinson grunted.  “It seems like the two of you have already discounted that option.  Very well, what’s next?”

Sykes turned to the next slide as it came to the fore.  “Option two has a chance of succeeding, but the cost may be … prohibitive.”

She did not bother reading the slide, reading the two men’s eyes instead.  “And that cost is?”

Volescu answered.  “We use our anti-satellite and BMD inventory and take out the shuttles and the destroyer.  A deadly weapon system, arguably the most advanced, destructive weapon system ever developed has been stolen, and we have no guarantees that Kelley and his crew only want to take it out into deep space to greet a bunch of aliens.  He could intend to extort the whole world.  Were this situation duplicated in a more familiar, terrestrial sphere, there would be no question.  We would take the hijackers out.”

“Granted, General, but this is no simple stolen plane or tank.  It’s not even a stolen submarine.  This is currently our one and only existing defense against these Deltans.”

“I am aware of that, Madame President, but it is our most conventional recommended response, and it is the one I prefer.  We have a decade or more before the Deltans arrive.  We can build another.”

Sykes grimaced.  “I agree with the General that we can build another, but not for some time.  However, his option assumes we
can
shoot the damn thing down.  I’m sure our arsenal would be effective against the stolen shuttles, but I am a great deal less sure about attacking the destroyer.  It’s a good two or three tech generations beyond our missile defense network.  And assuming Kelley is inclined to go off mission and is considering an attack on a terrestrial location, we would be ill-advised to make an ineffective first strike upon him.  ‘Ms. Nuclear Retribution’ isn’t a real winner as far as re-election campaign slogans go.”

Tomlinson quietly considered the two men, looking from one to another.  She shook her head and focused on Sykes.  “Noted.  Option three?”

Sykes turned to bring the last slide forward on the screen, but hesitated.  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but our third option is the one I’m going to be recommending.  You, however, are not going to like it.”

“Get on with it, Carl.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

March 7, 2045; USS Sword of Liberty (DA-1); En route Earth Orbit; Mission Day 2

Nathan Kelley lay back in the Commanding Officer’s acceleration couch and looked at the Control Room’s central display.  It revealed a beautiful, annotated, illuminated image of Earth with thousands of false color satellite tracks encircling it like rings, a chaotic, iridescent Saturn in miniature.  It was an awe-inspiring view, but Nathan was left oddly hollow by it.  He seemed to not know how to feel.  At that moment, his emotions were a wild mixture of anticipation, exhilaration, contentment, and guilt—especially guilt, and for a couple of different reasons.

There was, of course, the matter of his theft of the
Sword of Liberty
and the risky abandoning of her innocent joint military crew.  But that was largely offset by his conviction that this was the right way to go about things, that such a move was essential to the success of the mission.  No, the main source of his guilt—as well as a not insignificant degree of gleeful satisfaction—was because of something he had done which was almost completely unrelated to the
Sword’s
intended purpose.

Kris popped up off of him with a mischievous smile.  She grabbed up her shipsuit, slipping it and her underwear back on with a leisurely grace that he found much more enthralling than the fantastic image of the Earth from space.

She slapped his leg as she finished, interrupting him mid-stretch.  “C’mon, spaceman.  Get your skivvies on and shake a leg.  We’re almost to yon orbit and’ll be strikin’ the mainsail and dumpin’ the scuppers.  Ye don’t want to be caught in ye olde freefall with your ass hangin’ out all nekkid-like, do ye?  Arrrrr.”

Nathan grinned and sat up, reaching for his own coveralls and paraphernalia.  “It doesn’t matter how long you talk like that, you still aren’t a space pirate.”

“Space privateer, maybe?”

“Definitely not.  That would involve government sanction—more or less the opposite of where we find ourselves.”

She shrugged.  “Oh well, at least I’m a charter member of the 10,000 Mile High Club.  And the 50,000 Mile High Club.  And the 100,000—”

“And I can’t believe we did that.  I’ve always been firmly against hanky-panky aboard ship.  Contrary to good order and discipline and all that.”

Kris grinned, stepping in close as he finished dressing.  “Well if it’s discipline you want … .”  She leaned in and kissed him.  “I’ll have no guilt out of you, slave.  What else did you think would end up happening?  A brand spankin’ new couple, alone on a damn spaceship, with nobody around for hundreds of thousands of miles, on the run from the law as it were?  Face it—they’d have kicked you out of the Dude Union if you hadn’t gone for it.  You’re practically a pioneering hero now!”

He smiled and kissed her back, his expression easy now, free of tension.  “You’re right, Pirate Mate.  Consider your leader properly abashed.  Now let’s get ready to cut acceleration and maneuver for orbit.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!  Arrrrrrr!”

They tidied up the Control Room to military precision again, then checked the instruments, verifying their position and velocity.  Nathan began to search through the thousands of potential tracks as they approached, but the two SSTOS carrying their compatriots were right at the top of the track priority list.  He selected the two shuttles, checked their orbital parameters, and let the computer automatically come up with a rendezvous course.  With a few keystrokes, the new course was laid in and executed.

The main drive cut off and they were immediately in freefall.  The ship bumped briefly as it turned to a new vector and then “gravity” returned—much reduced—as they maneuvered to join up with Edwards and the rest of the crew.

Nathan scrolled through a number of different displays, checking the status of each of the ship’s many, many mutually supporting systems.  He paused at the defensive systems summary, relieved that the threat track list was blank for the moment.  He had worried that as the
Sword of Liberty
closed with Earth and their treachery became apparent, Sykes or another trigger-happy type might try something.  For the moment though, they were un-shot-at, and Nathan was glad that the fully ready laser emplacements and railgun had not been employed against missiles or other weapons from his own country.

Kris checked her own displays at her engineering console, verifying the status and health of the reactor, drive, auxiliary, and environmental systems.  She really wanted to go check them out herself, but without a crew onboard, there was simply too much that remained to be done for her to have times to place hands on.  Satisfied for the moment, she nodded and drifted to each of the other dedicated consoles on the perimeter of the brightly lit bridge/Control Room, squeezing Nathan’s shoulder in passing.

They continued in comfortable, busy silence for a few minutes, until Kris broke the calm with a low, “Oh, shit . . . .”

Nathan jerked his head up from his console and looked over to her.  Kris floated, bent down over the Comms station, not bothering to sit in the miniscule gravity.  “What’s up, babe?”

She turned to him, a half-smile frozen on her face.  “You want the cool news or the ‘Holy Christ’ news first?”

He cocked an eyebrow, perplexed.  “Well, if we’re not being shot at, give me the cool stuff and lead me up to the other.  You do it the other way and it’ll suck all the coolness out by comparison.”

Kris grinned in full.  “I’m tapped into the web, telecom network, and cable news via satellite uplink, and we’re pretty much the talk of the planet.  The 24-hour news stations and sites are All-
Sword-of-Liberty
, all-the-time.  Our website and e-mail queues are busting at the seams with traffic, and there are practically an infinite number of cell and radio-telephone calls in the hopper.”

“Are we answering any of them?”

“Nope.  Just like you said, the auto-hailer and voicemail are shut down and we’re running silent, but they’re waiting anyways.”

“Any of those broadcasts or webcasts covering the hijacking?”

She shook her head.  “Not a one.  As far as the hoi polloi know, Colonel Henson, his military crew, and their two civilian riders are one big, happy space-family.”

“There’s no way they can’t know by now.  Even if Henson’s STOSS is still too far away to make a direct call home, they have to have flagged our behavior as soon as we broke comms and left the shuttle behind.  So they’re keeping things quiet.  Okay.  What about Dave Edwards and the others?”

Kris nodded.  “I’ve got a burst data receipt from both STOSS’s.  Everything’s quiet on their end and they’re standing by for rendezvous.  Encryption is good and Edwards and Rainier both used the ‘Valkyrie’ code word.  They’re not under duress.”

Nathan nodded back and grinned as well.  “Well, everything seems to be coming together better than I hoped.  That is cool.  Now what’s the big news?”

Her smile grew more, flashing teeth.  “The President’s on hold for you.”

Nathan’s grin dropped and he looked appalled.  “Damn it, Kris.  Voice or visual?”

“Visual.  I’m putting it on the main screen, Star Trek style.  Hope you’re zipped up, lover-boy.”

He shook his head in dismay and sat up straighter in his seat, facing the Bridge’s primary viewscreen.  The view of Earth and her myriad orbits vanished, replaced by a close-in view of Annabel Tomlinson, looking perturbed.  Behind her could be seen a conference room and several silent figures, generals, admirals, and civilians alike.  Nathan set his jaw firmly and nodded.  “Madame President, it’s an honor.”

There was the briefest, too-long pause as his signal crossed the minute gulf between them and her response flew back at the speed of light.  Tomlinson’s expression remained hard, her voice icy.  “How nice.  Well, I would be honored if you would explain just what the hell you think you’re doing, Mr. Kelley.”

“I would’ve thought that would be completely obvious by now.  We are proceeding on our mission as originally proposed and approved, before Sykes, and you, I suppose, changed things.”

“So you’re just going to take the ship that the US government built, that the taxpayers unknowingly paid for, and go haring about the galaxy to satisfy your own personal whims?  You have a lot of gall.”

Nathan shook his head.  “No, Ma’am.  We have an essential mission for which we have trained and qualified, as well as a sense of dedication to our country and our leaders which won’t permit us to let this asset go with a lesser crew.  I’m not trying to insult Colonel Henson or his team, but they are rank amateurs compared to the original Windward complement.  If we wait for them to become our equals, our timeline for intercepting the Deltans at a relatively safe distance will fall by the wayside.  We can’t permit that, and you should just accept it.  To tell the truth, you should embrace it.”

The pause was a bit longer this time, despite the fact that every second brought them closer to Earth.  Finally she spoke, her eyes seeming to lock with his even through the intermediaries of the screens and cameras.  “I appreciate your position, Mr. Kelley, and I respect it in a way, but the fact remains that you are all civilians.  You are not bound to the wishes of my administration, the will of the nation, or the strictures of the US Constitution.  It would be criminal for me to allow you to go about your mission and enter negotiations with an alien race for this nation or for this planet.  You simply haven’t the authority.”