Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason (16 page)

“At least,” Admiral Hoover said, gravely. His voice seemed to hang in the air. I realised that he was using a sound-effect producer to be heard throughout the room. “You may be seated.”

I found myself studying the Admiral as the room sat down. He wore a white uniform covered in enough gold braid to feed a thousand starving families. His uniform seemed to distract from his face, which was slightly overweight; he was, in fat, a surprisingly fat man. His uniform, I saw after a moment, was carefully tailored to avoid showing his bulk. It had probably cost him more than I made in a year.

“This task force has been gathered together in accordance with UN Resolution #46537,” the Admiral said, without preamble. Now I could hear him properly, it sounded as if he had something caught in his throat. Despite himself, I wasn't particularly impressed with what I saw. “By order of the United Nations General Assembly, summoned as of two months ago, we are empowered to do whatever is necessary to restore the Heinlein System to the jurisdiction of united humanity and punish those who have chosen to rebel against the system. Gordon?”

Another man stood up. He wore only a black jumpsuit, but I fancied that I had made him at once. He was an intelligence officer. “Heinlein’s government was fundamentally opposed to the United Nations and the Rights of Man ever since it was founded two hundred and forty years ago,” he said. He had a droll factual voice that wouldn’t have been out of place on a librarian or a teacher. “In accordance with various United Nations resolutions, a Peace Force garrison was moved into the system to begin the process of bringing Heinlein fully into the United Nations. Their mission has not been altogether successful.”

He paused. “Heinlein’s corrupt government restricts the franchise in a distinctly fascist manner,” he continued. “The local leadership, deeply unpopular with many of the planet’s residents, had no motive to assist us in bringing Heinlein into the United Nations and manufactured crisis after crisis to slow the process down. Eventually, there was a major confrontation between the garrison and the local authorities and the garrison was forced to retreat to the spaceport. As of last report, they were under permanent siege and were not expecting to hold out until relieved.”

I scowled. There was no way to send a signal faster than the speed of light. The only way to send messages from star to star was to transport it on a starship, and starships were always in short supply. If the last report was a month old, it was quite possible that the garrison had either been taken by storm or starved out already, or would fall before we arrived to save it. I also wasn't sure if I believed everything he was saying. The Senior Chief, wherever he was now, had warned me that the higher ranks always lied to their juniors, and somehow I suspected that the garrison hadn’t behaved itself. There was no way to know.

“We have links with various friendly parties down on the planet’s surface,” Gordon concluded. “Our mission is to liberate the planet from their corrupt government, install a new government and complete the task of bringing Heinlein into the United Nations. Ideally, we also want to preserve the considerable orbital and asteroid belt infrastructure that the inhabitants have built up. Admiral?”

“Thank you,” Admiral Hoover said. He gazed around the room. “Heinlein possesses a considerable deep-space industry and various installations that may be used to develop weapons. It is also possible that they are one of the major sources for equipment and weapons for the rebel factions, including pirates and freebooters. It is therefore likely that our entry into the system will be opposed, but only on the level of converted freighters and small gunships. Heinlein never developed a space fleet of its own.”

“Are we sure of that?” Someone said, from the rear of the room. I realised with a moment of amusement that it was one of the reporters. “I was on the Balkans Campaign and they had all kinds of weapons and tech they weren't supposed to have.”

“Intelligence checked everything in their records before the garrison was established,” Gordon said, tightly. I had the feeling that that reporter wasn't going to be coming with us any longer. “They produced several dozen freighters, but mainly concentrated on mining ships for the asteroids and the gas giants. They have not produced any warships, although weapons are a very real possibility.”

I felt cold. I hadn’t forgotten the pirate we’d encountered back at Terra Nova, over a year ago. It had taken the Senior Chief to point it out to me, but it was clear that the pirate ship had risked itself in combat against a cruiser, without actually having to do anything of the sort. The Senior Chief had concluded that the pirate was actually a raider, showing off weapons that were more advanced than anything in the UN’s arsenal. It had been the one thing he couldn’t understand. Why had the raiders shown off their weapons…for nothing? They could have saved them for an unpleasant surprise later.

Admiral Hoover took centre stage again. “The fleet will depart tomorrow at 1300 precisely,” he said. I felt a faint murmuring passing through the audience. Most UN ships and units would be unable to make that time, and so the Admiral would probably be planning to leave later, which in turn meant that they had no incentive to be on time. “We will proceed as a group to the Heinlein system and rendezvous one light year from their star. Coordinates will be transmitted later. When the fleet has linked up again, we will advance at once into their system and secure the low orbitals.”

He paused, apparently inviting comment. None came. “Once we have secured the orbitals, we will start landing troops at once, concentrating on their largest cities,” he continued. “Once the cities have been secured, Infantry units will advance into the countryside and suppress rebels and insurgents there, before we begin working with friendly forces on the ground. After the locals see that our forces are capable of defeating the corrupt government, they will ally with us and the remaining insurgents will be rapidly weeded out.

“In addition, Marine units will seize their largest orbital installations and production plants. Once secure, those plants will be turned over to supporting the invasion and producing items needed to pay Earth for the liberation mission. I anticipate no real difficulty in carrying out the invasion, so once the troops have been landed, the majority of our fleet can be dispersed for other duties, leaving a light observation squadron and, of course, the Devastator in the system.”

There was a pause. “Any questions?”

“Yes,” someone said. I was surprised to see a Marine Major General sitting in the front row. Marines normally had little to do with matters outside their sphere. “Just how long do you expect the invasion and occupation to take?”

“I expect that major combat operations will be completed within the first month,” Admiral Hoover said. “We should be able to pull out most of the infantry within the next year or so, depending on local conditions. The locals will see that we are resolute and firm in our determination to convince them to share what they have with all of humanity. We have a paternal oversight role to consider…”

“I suspect it will take much longer,” the Major General said. “I was actually involved in a joint operation with Heinlein reservists and they were damned good. It will not be ended quickly…”

“Thank you,” Admiral Hoover said, tightly. His voice became harsh and unbending. I knew what he was going to say before he spoke. “If I had wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.”

I scowled, despite myself. I’d learned that the Marines were far from stupid back when I’d been training with them. Overall, I’d trust a Marine’s opinion rather more than the Admiral’s…and, now that it had been pointed out to me, it was clear that the Admiral was being very optimistic. The war could drag on forever.

It struck me, then, that we were going to invade another planet. We were going to bring them war and devastation in the hope that they would become more like us. I remembered what I’d seen on Earth and shuddered again. Whatever Heinlein was like – and I didn’t even know where the name came from – it could hardly be worse than Earth, could it? Somehow, I doubted it. Even Terra Nova was a paradise compared to Earth.

But what could I do?

I mulled it over as we were dismissed and I reported to Captain Shalenko, but the answer was all-too-clear. There was nothing I could do about it. History was on the march and I was nothing, but a helpless spectator. All I could do was watch, and wait.

Chapter Thirteen

The logistics of interstellar travel are, despite the best efforts of the UN, inflexible. Some items – foodstuffs, for example – cannot be transported economically under almost any conditions. The cost of transporting the food to another star would make it the most expensive food in the galaxy, particularly that almost every settled world grows enough food to feed itself. It is therefore clear that shipping anything apart from specialised items is not a economical proposition. This has a baleful effect on military operations as well. Any UNPF operation would exist on the end of a long supply line with massive time delays. It would literally take months to request reinforcements and months longer for them to arrive.

-Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.

“Captain, the remaining starships have finally logged in,” Lieutenant Marya Jadwiga said, from her position on the bridge. “They’re signalling that they’re ready to go.”

“Finally,” Captain Shalenko hissed. I didn’t blame him for being frustrated. The Devastator had been ready to go at 1300, as we had been ordered, but the other ships hadn’t been anything like ready. I was silently grateful for the time I’d spent on logistics. It was becoming increasingly clear that the other ships hadn’t spent anything like as much time on it…and the Admiral had been chewing the walls. It was now 1500 and we were barely ready to go. “Lieutenant Walker, please take our guests to the observation blister.”

“Aye, sir,” I said, tiredly. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to the reporters, but orders were orders. Besides, the sight of a wormhole opening at close range would be enough to shut them up for a while, I hoped. “I’ll get right on it.”

The reporters, I was amazed to discover, had dressed up in their finery for the trip to the observation blister. I tried very hard not to laugh as I escorted them through the passageways – some crewmen were rather less discriminating – and took them into the observation blister. Space – and the sight of Earth, visible as a blue-green sphere in the distance – still took my breath away, but the reporters didn’t seem impressed. They’d probably seen it often enough that it was no longer a wonder to them, although I couldn’t understand why. It had never stopped being a wonder for me.

“Tell me something,” Frank Wong said. Wong seemed to be the senior reporter, insofar as there was such a thing. “When are we actually departing? I was told to expect you at 1300.”

I wasn’t going to explain all the problems to him. “There were delays,” I said, reluctantly. There was no point in elaborating. “I believe, however, that we will depart in a few moments. It really is a fantastic view.”

“He’s trying to distract us,” Mytych Milan insisted. I had never been able to untangle where he’d come from originally, but he was a reporter through and through. From what I had been able to gather, he was under the impression that he was an investigative reporter, out to gather dirt that could be used to make the UNPF look bad. I doubted that he’d be long with us either. “We could be…”

“Stuck in the stateroom with nothing to do, but drink and fuck,” Frank Wong snapped back, angrily. I was pleased to see that he had some sense, although in their place, I’d have been brushing up on my studies. There was always something to do on the ship. “Watch and learn. It’s your first trip out of the Solar System, isn’t it?”

“Now hear this,” the Captain’s voice said, echoing through the starship. “We are ready to jump. I repeat, we are ready to jump. The wormhole will be opened in two minutes…mark.”

“Watch,” I said, softly. This sight, too, never lost its power to thrill. “You won’t regret it.”

Ahead of us, the light from the stars seemed to twist suddenly into a shimmering ball of light, which expanded rapidly into an open mouth, a rent in the fabric of space and time. The funnel grew larger, rapidly blurring through the colours of the rainbow, and seemed to rush at us. A moment later, we were inside the wormhole and flying towards our destination. The lights vanished and we seemed to be inside nothing, but darkness.

“My god,” Mytych Milan said, stunned. “It…what was that?”

“That was a wormhole,” I said, dryly. I’d feared that the reporters would throw up – it wasn't uncommon for first-timers – but they seemed to be holding themselves together. Two of them looked pale and wan, but the others seemed fine. “Heinlein is forty light years away, after all. That’s a months journey even with wormholes.”

“I never even thought about it like that,” Lillian said. “What happened to the lights?”

I took the opportunity to lecture them. “Technically speaking, we’re inside a private universe at the moment,” I explained. It wasn't entirely accurate, but so few people understood the Jump Drive that it was a worthwhile analogy. “There are no stars or other sources of light here, so there’s nothing, but darkness.”

“What about the other ships?” Frank Wong asked. “Why can’t we see them?”