The IX (41 page)

The command staff behind Ephraim crowded forward to take a look, forcing Ephraim to protest. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please. I know we’ve been waiting all week to implement these updates, but a little patience now will make all the difference. If I may?”

Shouldering his way through the press, Ephraim accessed his computer and listed the fruits of their labors. His eyes bulged.
My God! It’s even better than I imagined.

Reactivating the main wall screens, he directed everyone’s attention forward. “Boys and girls, it would appear our efforts have been generously rewarded. If I could ask you to consider the center monitor first?”

Everyone shuffled about to get a better look. Ephraim brought up an overview of the countryside surrounding Rhomane City, encompassing a fifty mile radius. As the image solidified, a number of red dots appeared. After a few moments, some of them started blinking on and off.

“What are they?” Saul asked.

“Those are way stations, Commander. As you know, at its peak, Arden had these facilities scattered across the surface of the planet. They were governed by the sentinel AI program, and acted as signal-come-energy relay posts for day to day communications and power distribution. They also housed a squadron of flyers for maintenance, aerial surveys, and security. Obviously, a number of them were lost during the invasion. But not all.”

“Are the flashing ones active?”

“Oh yes. Rhomane is surrounded by a fair number of such reserve centers, as are all the other major starports across Arden’s four main continents. And really, it stands to reason. They were at the height of their culture, so we can only imagine the volume of traffic their controllers had to regulate. And not just here, through local airspace, but throughout the entire star system. It helps explain why so many redundant facilities ring each city. When they realized what the Horde was doing, some bright spark ordered the standby stations you see here to power down.” Ephraim shrugged. “I can only imagine they hoped to use them again at a later date. In any event, their misfortune has provided us with an excellent tactical advantage.”

“Why?” Mohammed asked. “Won’t our enemy sense they are now online and simply drain them as they did before?”

Ephraim smiled. “Good point. Fortunately, one we no longer have to worry about, thanks to my team’s ingenuity.”

Ephraim tapped a sequence into his keyboard, and a separate segment appeared within the right-hand side of the screen. In it, a distinctive oscillating pattern could be seen, flowing in a never-ending wave from top to bottom.

“My friends,” he announced proudly, “this is Trojan. A digitized, highly compressed signal employing a modulating temporal signature. Over the past month, Brent, Asa, and Penny worked together to create a means by which we could transfer our latest security protocols to whatever posts are still operational. This is what they devised.”

“And what’s it doing, exactly?” Mohammed pressed.

“Why, it’s broadcasting the specific frequency of our combined null-point and chameleon shields. In effect, this carrier wave will cloak those facilities until we can get the flyers to drop an actual generator at each site.”

Saul cut back in on the conversation. “So we’ll be able to use these way stations?”

“We certainly will.” Ephraim beamed. He paused to skim the accompanying schedule. “In this locality alone, we have the following centers at our disposal: Ho’lam Island, out on Asterlan Lake, forty miles west of here; Grisson Gap, which you all know; the northern sector of the Tar’e-esh Forest, twenty-three miles east; Tar’e-esh Plain, just south of the starport; and of course, Boleni Heights itself. Remember, these are the stations that weren’t touched. As long as they remain under the protective umbrellas generated by the Trojan program, they’ll remain invisible to the Horde. And because they’re so close, we can get teams and flyers on site in a matter of hours. I tell you, they’ll make a big difference. For example . . .” Ephraim’s fingers flew across the controls once more, “tell me what you think of this little beauty.”

The left-hand wall screen activated, showing an even larger image of the planet’s surface. The scale along the top showed they were now viewing an area nearly five hundred miles in diameter. Within it, more than half a dozen zones were tinged olive.

A voice from the back shouted, “Ha! Iron.”

“What makes you say that, Marcus?” Ephraim was intrigued that the legionnaire had made the connection before anyone else.

“Simple common sense. Although this is the first time I have seen such a view, several features are well known to me.” Marcus strode forward and began explaining certain aspects everyone would be aware of. “That huge scar you see running across the surface of the planet is obviously the Shilette Abyss. A place very dear to my heart in recent weeks. The locale of our newest settlement governs a region known to possess one of the highest concentrations of iron ore on the planet.”

Marcus drew their attention to the narrowest point of the canyon. “As you can see, the Rhomane to Genoas highway crosses the gorge at a point only five miles east of the encampment. That whole sector is green, corresponding to the mining site and surrounding ore beds we discovered throughout the Tar’e-esh itself, and the Esteban Sea. It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection, especially when we also remember the lower grade deposits situated in the Erásan Mountains.”

He pointed to another shaded patch not far from the Grisson Gap. “See? They match places we already know are iron rich. I can only assume the other areas also possess hematite, magnetite, goethite, and limonite in sufficient concentrations to be worth highlighting.”

Ephraim was stunned. “Well done. You’re exactly right.” Addressing the rest of the command staff, he continued, “As Marcus correctly surmised, we are looking at a district that was once known as the Jurisdictional Prefecture of Rhomane. This entire province is littered with iron ore deposits of significant purity and abundance. One of the richest on the planet in fact, and that will —”

“How do you know that?” Saul asked. “Excuse me for butting in, but we’ve been using antiquated city archives to guide us for some time now. How can you say for certain these areas still contain what we need?”

“Because the satellites have confirmed it.”

“What?” Saul was taken aback.

Several other commanders began muttering among themselves.

Then the meaning of Ephraim’s actual words registered with Saul. “Are you saying these images aren’t from patrolling drones?”

Ephraim smirked. “No, they’re not. That was going to be one of my next surprises. People, may I present a little example of what Arden’s Global Satcom-net can do.”

Ephraim entered another cipher into the console before him. All three main wall screens skipped channels to present a series of starkly different vistas. A palpable shock ran through the entire gathering. Several people gasped out loud.

The first monitor showed the rim of a burnished orange-red sun emerging from behind the bulk of a majestic disc. The star’s corona burned brightly, casting a warm scarlet glow through the upper reaches of the atmosphere of the world below it. The planet itself appeared etched in liquid flame around its edges, while the majority of its mass was cast in mystery and shadow.

The middle display revealed a similar scene but from a different perspective, this one being positioned above the terminator of sunrise and sunset. To the left of the picture, cotton-candy clouds swirled through a sea of sapphire-blue radiance. The crystal lens of the expanse was infused with vaporous trails of soul-wrenching tranquility. On the right, darkness dominated. Ebbing reluctantly under the relentless advance of dawn, it gradually surrendered its secrets. Noctilucent particles manifested themselves amongst the gloom, followed closely by the tallest mountain summits. Like beacons, they revealed tantalizing glimpses of the glory to come.

The final screen faced out into a Jovian sea of purple-blue grandeur. An ocean of midnight silk upon which the luminescence of a billion astral sprites had been cast in random abandon. Each pinprick blazed coldly with an unadulterated purity that struck the hearts and minds of the gathered assembly with the force of a sledgehammer.

Captivated, Ephraim became lost in the moment.
Somewhere out there, a lifetime away, our real home sails serenely through the heavens . . . How ignorant we were of the dangers that exist, just a cosmic stone’s-throw away.

“Are these satellites able to show us Arden in greater detail?” Marcus asked. “What is the term you use? Can they . . . zoom in and remain clear?”

“They can indeed, my friend. For example . . . .”

Ephraim presented them with a vision of remarkable scope. A solitary peak pierced the night. Protruding toward the sunlight like a symbol of hope, its alpine cap strained to free itself from the twilight mists congealing about its slopes in a miasma of serpentine possessiveness.

The image wavered, and a closer view of that same pinnacle resolved itself. Now, the cobalt-blue frown of a granite leviathan stood forth in pristine clarity, peeking out from hoarfrost-covered brows. A snowy crown adorned the apex, and where the rock face greeted the dawn, it glittered cruelly, burning as if the entire edifice were ablaze within a skein of ice and flames.

Above the slopes on one side, a huge bird of prey stretched its wings and soared amid the very epitome of serenity sublime made manifest.

Everyone leaned forward. Ephraim chose that moment to switch satellites.

A contrasting swathe of undulating greens and blues made everyone start. The picture flickered and intensified. The panorama scrolled across verdant forests, swaying grasslands, and undulating plains. The luxuriant fertility of the temperate zones faded as the scanners moved on, toward the equatorial region.

The gaping chasm of the Shilette Abyss hove into view. Once there, Ephraim manipulated the controls to skim east. Less than a minute later, he held position above a point where the two sides of the canyon seemed to bulge toward each other. Changing resolution, he smoothly zoomed in to present a live-time image of the mining site from less than two hundred feet up. People could clearly be seen, walking to and fro about their business.

Marcus suppressed a laugh.

Several others cheered.

Mohammed and Saul stared at each other, the implications of this latest development written clearly across their faces.

“These places you’re showing us appear remarkably bounteous and free of infestation,” Saul commented. “Do you think this confirms our latest suspicions? That something here in the city appears to be the Horde’s target, and they’ve congregated in one location to get it?”

“Hazarding a guess? I’d say that was highly likely. But we can discuss that at tomorrow’s briefing. By then, we’ll have uploaded the specs of the rotational frequencies that Mac and his team use. Combining them to the already existing filters the satellites employ will give us an accurate assessment of exactly where on the planet our enemy is congregating. Be in no doubt—the addition of the Satcom-net will provide us with a huge tactical advantage we never dreamed of.”

“Such as?”

Ephraim scanned through the contents of his personal screen again. Then he glanced back at Brent and Asa. Each of them was privy to the information it contained, and both were grinning like maniacs.

“Tell them, Boss,” Brent blurted.

“Tell us what?” Saul queried.

Ephraim grinned. “Remember how I told you a few minutes ago that having access to this global system was just one of the surprises in store for you tonight? Well, here’s another.”

A floating platform filled the main screen, appearing much larger than the other satellites nearby. “This is Veran 3,” Ephraim said, “one of six space stations positioned in geosynchronous orbit around the planet’s equator and poles. It would seem these particular ones were used as command and response posts for the upkeep of the planetary net. And get this. They’re not only armed and equipped with transporter pads, but are linked into Se’ochan’s lunar grid, too.”

“Se’ochan has a defensive system as well? Why didn’t we know?”

“Because certain records were compartmentalized. Need to know. Now we have access to the astrometrics database, we’re discovering all sorts of new toys we can play with. Of course, preliminary diagnostics show they’re powered down at the moment. So, if you don’t mind, once they’re safely protected behind the new shields, I’d like you to task a team to check out their systems and bring each one up to speed. Obviously, we’ll prioritize the planetary web first, because . . . well, with what I’m going to show you next, I have a feeling you’ll want a permanent contingent up there to keep an eye on things.”

“You mean there’s more?” Saul was clearly amazed there might be yet another shock waiting in the wings.

Ephraim didn’t reply. Instead, he raised his eyebrows and pressed a button. The image that flashed onto the screen next caused everyone to fall silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Avenger Class deep space cruiser,
Arch of Winter
. And yes, before you ask, she
is
intact and initial scans show her to be the only ship left in high orbit to remain free of Horde infestation. The logs I have here indicate her captain had the foresight to abandon ship and open her to the vacuum of space rather than let her be taken. What’s fascinating is the fact her sensors are active. But because she’s surrounded by some form of dampening field, she has remained undetected. Clearly, we’ll need to look into that and assess if the Tec is viable for hybrid application with those we’re currently using.”

Everyone stared in mute surprise.

Mohammed was the first to find his voice. “Ephraim, what passenger capacity does the
Arch of Winter
possess?”

“One moment . . .” Ephraim brought up the schematics of the ship. “From the guidelines here, I can see she’s equipped with third generation rip-space drives, and was constructed specifically for long-range exploration and patrol. Five year missions, from the look of it. As such, she carried a combined military, scientific, and civilian specialist complement of . . . three hundred and ninety-eight officers and four and a half thousand crew. Families included.”