Alien Enigma (34 page)

"Aye, aye, sir."

Ten minutes later on the mark, Bogarty said "Connecting ...Captain Whittaker patched through. It's all yours, sir."

"Thank you, Bogy. I've got it now."

Keane looked at his embedded wrist com. He saw the correct code response. The line was secure and the small screen at his station was secluded. "This is Captain Trent Keane. Is this Captain James Whittaker?"

"Yes, sir, Captain, good to hear your voice."

"Yours too James. We've got a lot of new intelligence to talk over, so let me get to it before something else comes up. It's been a busy time here in the control room the last several hours." He went on to explain some of the nuances of what they'd learned that hadn't been in the data dump, then got into the implications as he saw them so far. "James, you're one of the best war strategists we have. I know you really hate not being able to get in on the action, but as usual if you have any suggestions on the forthcoming hostilities, please don't hesitate to pass them along. Despite the advantages this new data appears to give us, I doubt this is going to be a cake walk, especially for the marines."

"Excuse, me, sir, but why are you saying that? It seems as though with the underground ready to help you get all of the captives and themselves into your hands, you could just back up and pound the city into submission before going back in to look for more alien technology."

"Because the enigma just keeps growing and I've come to feel that doing it that way may lose us the most vital intelligence. Right now we're looking at a hierarchy of robots, with robots possibly in control of the Worms, or maybe the other way around for all we know. Maybe the chips the Worms have imbedded aren't some form of control device allowing the robots to manipulate them. Maybe it's a way for the Worms to control the robots. All we're really sure of is that they communicate by non-vocal methods even though the Worms can speak. Hell, the robots can too, if it comes to that."

"Maybe I'm having an off day, James. I still don't see the problem."

"Probably because you've been standing off watching us. Sometimes I wonder why they didn't give you this ship instead of me. You came out tops in the last war games."

Whittaker replied. "I may be number one in war games, but I'm surely not number one with the Space Navy or the Admiral, even though I did save his ass on the
Star Gazer
years back. I think they put the best man for the job right where you are. You're better than I am with the down and dirty fighting and calmer during combat then I am. I may be the better strategist but I seem to be missing a couple of brain cells today. So what is it you're after?"

Keane took a moment to organize his thoughts. "James, somewhere in Xanadu there almost has to be a central intelligence node, a central robot, maybe a Super Worm. Hell, maybe a giant artificial intelligence. But something has to be organizing this screwy colonization of the Bolt Cluster, something giving the overall orders. That's what I want to capture, because if we find the central intelligence I think it will have in it archives, files, or whatever, basically a kind of storage containing a history of this place. A recording of the directive from wherever these freaks come from and even more important, maybe we can get a notion of their overall strategy.

"Do they want to conquer the galaxy? Is it just humans or the shape of our ships or something even weirder that pisses them off and makes them fire on us and fight to the death? See, I think we've got to try to find out those things and get the intelligence back to the Admiralty so they can take it to the President and from there to the U.N. James, I believe we're already involved in an interstellar war. You with me?"

"I am now. I'll confess I really hadn't thought that far ahead, nor considered that there might be a directing intelligence hidden beneath Xanadu. If that's what your marines are after, God help them."

"Yeah. No help for it though, not the way I see it. And James, if
Doc Travis
craters during this go-round you have to take back everything we've gotten so far and make the politicians believe we're in a fight for survival. It's as simple as that. So these are your orders. Withdraw now and head for Earth. You've done what you came for and now you need to get back."

"Got it. We'll be on our way shortly. And good luck, Trent. I think you're going to need it."

"Right. We should be heading into the devil's den about eighteen hundred tomorrow. I'll patch in our status as often as necessary via some long-range comsats for future reference in case we get blind-sided and don't return. We'll launch along the way. I know you don't like it, but I'll repeat, your orders now are to head back to Earth. I know you, so
don't
try to stay in case we need help. Is that understood, my good friend?"

Whittaker chuckled. "Trent, I'm not going to pull any war games shenanigans. Besides, we didn't come armed for bear. Our ship's fast, and so is our short range scout, but that's about it. We're all counting on you and that crazy bastard of a marine you have on board. Rambling. If they picked the right man for
Doc Travis
, they did the same for the Marine CO. If he doesn't pack it in along the way he'll wind up as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs."

Keane laughed. "If we win this thing and get back to Earth, I wouldn't doubt it a bit. The man's a piece of work. I'm just glad he's on our side."

"Me too. Well Trent, I really hope this isn't our last goodbye. Godspeed and good hunting my friend."

"You too James. Tell the Navy Secretary that the Cognac he sent was really appreciated. I had a little the other night and it really helped."

"Tell her yourself, Captain. You'll be there," Whittaker said, cutting the connection.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Fire Lasers! Now, now, now!

You will be a minister of death praying for war. But until that day you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabastic pieces of amphibian shit... I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless.
-
Full Metal Jacket
(1987)

The first inkling Sue Nakamura had of approaching Sinchiks was the sound of them crashing through the underbrush, coming directly toward her. She picked up the com and began to run. It took only seconds to realize the looming presence in front of her was a Sinchik. They were coming from all sides. She twirled and ran at an angle away from it, hoping to find a clear path through their encirclement. Instead, she stumbled directly into the arms of a large robot. One of its appendages circled her waist in a familiar capture.

She closed her eyes. "Now we meet again, my love," she said. Her hand released its grip on the dead man switch she had activated at the first sound of advancing Sinchiks. The explosion blew her and the robot to bits.

***

"Nothing?" Keane asked.

"I'm sorry, sir," Bogarty said. "It's way past the time when they should have broadcast again."

"Hmm. That puts a crimp into our plans," he said, more to himself than to anyone in the control room. Either the underground operatives manning the com had been caught or they'd had to move. Possibly they were simply under observation and unwilling to do anything suspicious that might attract attention to themselves. Not that it mattered.
Doc Travis
was moving inward toward the planet of Xanadu, preparing for action. He expected the fight to begin in only a few more hours. In the meantime, he needed to talk to a few people.

"Bosun, can you get someone to take your position for an hour or so? Anita, same for you," he said to Lieutenant Chavez. "And ...Bogy, please com Major Rambling and ask him to bring his XO and First Sergeant and meet me in my day cabin."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Also, I'll need Commander Manheimer and the XO. Notify them, too." He thought for a moment. Was that all? No. "June, I'll want you, too. Come ahead as soon as you can get your relief here." He headed to his cabin without waiting on her answer.

***

As the personnel he'd requested arrived at his day cabin, he gestured to the coffee pot. The liquor stores were secured for the duration. Once they were all seated he nodded to Chief Mura that she could go.

He smiled without humor. "Well, folks, it seems that conferences are a way of life lately, but maybe this will be the last one for a while. What's happened is that we've had no response back from the underground through the satellite relay. I'll confess I was counting on that more than I should have. I feel certain Major Rambling is feeling the loss as well."

The Major grimaced. "I sure am, sir. I was looking forward to having the underground lead us through those warrens beneath the city. They did give us some maps but of necessity they had to estimate distances while in the tunnels since they had no inertial navigators. Now we'll have to use loudspeakers and binoculars to try locating humans before assaulting anywhere but on the surface. If we can't locate them, we'll go down anyway. It'll just be harder."

"And the ship is in a similar pickle. We can't take out their rail guns and laser cannons until they fire on us for fear of destroying exactly the places we want to take intact. Which brings us to the COB. Master Chief, how many rail gun hits can the ship take and still function and fight?"

"A good many, sir. The bulkheads are solid now and all the vital areas have the overlapping plates converted to the alloy seal. Our main area of concern is the hanger bay; it is just too big to completely protect. A couple of hits there with marines in the shuttles ready to launch would be a disaster."

"Tom, I doubt you'd bring this up if you didn't have a solution. Out with it."

"Yes, sir. What I suggest is coming in on the opposite side of the planet from the city and launching the shuttles with the marines from there, and then take the ship on to the city. I know that being fully loaded may run them short of juice for the maneuvering thrusters but hell, sir, if the ship buys the farm they won't be going home anyway."

Keane rubbed his chin. He looked at the others. "Anyone see any flaws there?"

"I like it," Rambling said. "For that matter, why not set the ship down ...no, we'd be out of communication. Besides, I need its firepower to make an assault into the tunnels feasible and for that you have to take out the city's anti-air and space defenses. Okay. Put us out and we'll make a run toward the city and plan on arriving after you've had time to pulverize them good."

"How about if we take laser fire and rail gun hits at the same time? Can the ship still stand up?"

Master Chief Berry shrugged. "Lieutenant Wannstead and Professor Juenne say so and I agree with them. Of course that assumes you neutralize the incoming fire before it does too much harm. You do all realize we will take some damage regardless of what we do unless we're very lucky, don't you?"

The officers and scientist nodded although Keane wasn't certain they really understood. So far the hits on the ship had been shrugged off with no real effect. He doubted they would be as lucky this time. "Anita, you and Jerome are going to have to work very closely together when the shit hits the fan. June is going to require some quick down and dirty maneuvering so we can return fire and destroy their rail guns as quickly as possible. Same for their lasers."

"Sir, may I suggest that you set up a secondary command post with me running it, in case something does get through to the control room?" Dunaway said.

"Good thought. Take June's number one with you and whoever else you think you might need for an alternate command room. Set it up in ...COB?"

"Use your day cabin, sir. It has alternate controls and monitors."

Keane laughed. "Good thought. And let's make a note in the log for Brian to take back to his father. All future navy ships need to be constructed with alternate control rooms. Damn, John. I should have thought of that. Thanks."

There were a number of other issues but none of the same import as the first. After another half hour of analysis a time was set to begin hostilities. No one said anything about contact protocols and Keane wasn't about to bring it up. The enemy had been given all the chances for peaceful intercourse he intended to allow.

***

Doug felt like he had to take the chance. When he picked up the note at the underground drop site the next day telling him of Sue's death, he wanted to grieve but dared not take the time. He had to contact Clemmie and bring the two wings of the underground into contact now. He was desperately hoping the new ship was designed for war and not exploration. In fact, he was counting on it. The destruction of the gravity generators had succeeded, although neither Jordan nor Helen had returned. If the ship didn't attack the city within the next few days and try to free the human slaves, he'd have to take what weapons he had and either retreat to the forest or try to hide in the bowels of the city. Or even on the surface, with Quislings ready to turn him in once the word spread that he was on the run. None of the options appealed to him but he was prepared to take the chance.

As soon as night fell, he gathered his few possessions and left his
Wah
for the last time. He began the trip across the city toward Clemmie's
Wah
after leaving a note at the drop telling of his intentions and denoting his replacement commander. He carried his knife and the Sinchik energy gun with the single power pack that had come into his hands years ago. He hoped it was still good. The gauge said so, anyway.

It was slow going. He crept from building to building by using side streets whenever possible, thinking there would be less chance of the stray Sinchik or robot than on the main thoroughfares. It seemed to be working, but it was a tension-filled and tiresome journey. He was getting close to Clemmie's
Wah
and thought he was going to make it with no problem when he suddenly heard the sound of robot treads behind him. The elastic-like metal of both the street and their treads had allowed it to come too close to get away.