The Trafalgar Gambit (Ark Royal) (23 page)

“You will rest,” the alien said.  “We will leave now.”

Henry turned, fighting to control his movements.  “Where are we going?”

“Your people,” the alien said.  It pointed one leathery hand towards the bed.  “We will talk.  You will prepare to speak to them.”

Henry nodded.  After Target One, the human race would be suspicious of any alien ship attempting to make open contact.  But they’d find it a great deal harder to ignore a human voice, broadcasting openly.  And then ... Henry smiled at the thought of the aliens meeting a proper set of human researchers, complete with computers and the ability to consider how best to speak at leisure.  The communications barrier would be broken soon enough.

“We’ll sleep,” he promised.

“I’m not sure how,” Jill muttered.  She still looked green.  “How do we stay on the bed?”

“... Bugger,” Henry said.  The aliens had dragged a bed into the chamber, but it was largely useless without a gravity field.  He looked around for something they could use to tie themselves down, only to discover there was nothing.  “I’m not sure.”

Jill laughed, weakly.  “Do we just sleep floating in the air?”

“It looks that way,” Henry said.  There was a second problem.  As far as he could tell, there were no streams of air moving through the compartment.  Carbon dioxide, exhaled from their mouths, would gather around them, eventually making it impossible to breath.  Or so he thought.  It had been a very long time since he’d studied survival in zero-gravity environments.  “I think one of us will have to sleep while the other fans them.”

“See if there are any atmospheric controls first,” Jill said, once he’d explained.  “They gave me some controls back when I ...”

She broke off, shuddering.  Henry wanted to put his arms around her and give her what reassurance he could. 
He
could go back to Earth and be reunited with his family, his friends and his lover.  But Jill would never see her friends and family again.  The aliens, either through a mistake or cold-blooded malice, had slaughtered almost all of the Heinlein settlers.

“You have a nap,” he said.  He hated himself for saying something so useless, but what else could he do?  “I’ll look for controls and then fan you.”

“Thanks,” Jill said, weakly.  She paused.  “Do you think we’re being watched here?”

“Probably,” Henry said.  “We’re aliens, remember.  They’ll want to keep an eye on us.” 

But that was normal for him.  He’d been watched almost his entire life, with his family and the media ready to pounce on any form of misbehaviour ... even if it was something that would pass without comment for anyone born outside the Royal Family.  Regular beatings would have been kinder, he’d often thought.  At least he could have told someone about an abusive parent and been understood.  But what did one do when the entire system was abusive?

Janelle and I can just run
, he decided, finally. 
We can go somewhere else and change our names.  No one would know who we’d once been.

“
War Hog
has transited back, Captain,” Farley reported.  “Local space seems clear.  Long-range sensors reveal no sign of alien activity.”

James nodded, studying the report.  There was little of value in the first alien-ruled system they’d invaded during Operation Nelson, save for a handful of asteroids and a tramline that led deeper into alien space.  It would have been completely useless, he knew, if they hadn't had the alien-designed drive.  He didn't find it a reassuring thought.

“Take us through the tramline,” he ordered.  “Full tactical alert.”

He looked at the status display and shuddered.  His starfighter crews were in their craft, ready to launch at a moment’s notice.  Gunnery crews and damage repair teams were on the alert, braced for anything from an alien attack to total drive failure.  Everything looked perfect ... and yet he knew it was nothing of the sort.  The only crews at full capacity were the damage control teams.  They’d had a lot of practice.

They vanished from the Terra Nova system as they crossed the tramline and reappeared in an alien system no one, not even the aliens, had bothered to name.  He watched the display as passive sensors listened, watching for signs of alien activity, but picked up nothing.  The system was as dark and cold as the grave.  But that didn't prove the aliens weren't there, he reminded himself, sharply.  They could easily have their drives and weapons deactivated, leaving them pretending to be holes in space.

“Local space seems clear,” Farley said, again.  “No alien contacts, sir.  Not even a stray signal.”

“Take us on our assigned course,” James ordered.  At least there was no need to play games with drones right now, thankfully.  The aliens had either lost them completely or had a solid lock on their position a multitude of drones wouldn't be able to shake.  “And continue to monitor for signs of alien activity.”

The silence was baffling – and worrying.  He’d known the aliens had never had much of anything in the system prior to the war, but he would have expected a picket ship at the very least.  Unless there
was
one and they’d simply missed it ... there was just too much space for a single enemy ship to hide in, given time.  All he could do was make his way to the next tramline and pray they remained undiscovered.  Target One was still ten days away on their course.

And if we take the least-time course we risk being detected for sure
, he thought.  They might have wrecked most of the Target One system, but the aliens would probably still picket it, knowing that its tramlines led deeper into alien space. 
No, we have to remain stealthy and pray the cloaking device works as advertised.

His console bleeped.  “Captain, the drive fluctuations actually reduced this time,” Anderson reported.  “Everything was largely nominal.”

“Thank God,” James said.  The frigates and escort carriers would be able to escape, he was sure, but not the giant carrier.  Stranding her in a useless star system would suit the aliens very well.  “Continue to monitor the situation.”

“Aye, Captain,” Anderson said.

And hope we don’t have any more soap opera business
, James thought, as he closed the connection.  There were times when he didn't know how Captain Smith –
Admiral
Smith – had survived remaining on
Ark Royal
while she’d been stuck in the naval reserve.  Some of his crew had been dedicated, others had been disciplinary problems who’d needed to be discharged as soon as possible.  Most of the problems had faded away when the aliens attacked Vera Cruz, but a handful had remained festering.  And now there was a spy on the ship. 

He leaned back into his chair, thinking hard.  Ten days to Target One.  Ten days before they encountered the aliens ... if they didn’t encounter them beforehand.  And then ... who knew what would happen when they tried to communicate?

***

“This,” Doctor Russell explained, “is an all-spectrum disease carrier.”

Ted eyed the sealed test tube with a jaundiced eye.  It didn't look very safe to him.

“I was under the impression,” he said, “that all such research was banned.”

“That’s true,” Doctor Russell agreed, as he put the test tube down on the desk.  “However, we are allowed to conduct research into
cures
for genetically-modified diseases – and the only way to do that is to study techniques for modifying the diseases ourselves.  Normally, such research takes place in sealed facilities without any chance of the disease escaping into the general population.”

Ted scowled.  He hated to admit it, but Doctor Russell had a point.  It was easy to find sophisticated medical equipment these days and, despite international treaties, terrorists would be very tempted to create viruses that would slaughter everyone who hadn't been immunised ahead of time.  There were no shortages of rumours about terrorist groups – and nations – that had tried to do just that, despite the risks.  No matter how much care the experts took, diseases could mutate at a terrifying speed.

“In this case,” Doctor Russell continued, “the alien biology is so different from our own that there is literally
no
danger of the disease spreading to humanity.  That allows us to widen the scope of the disease considerably, to the point where it can infect creatures from the same genetic heritage as the aliens themselves.  This will serve as an infection vector that will slash straight through the alien civilisation.”

“You’ve invented a form of Bird Flu that infects everything,” he said.  He honestly couldn't understand why the Doctor was so pleased with his accomplishments.  “All we'd have to do is bio-bomb an alien planet and wait for them all to die.”

“Precisely,” Doctor Russell said.  “And the standard treaties have been set aside, owing to the war.”

Ted made a face.  If it had been just Britain researching the concept, it might have been possible to keep a lid on it.  But the Government had insisted on sharing the research project – and the guilt – with the rest of the spacefaring powers.  Now, it almost seemed as though they were competing to build the most horrendous biological weapon possible.  The aliens would be in deep shit if the weapon was introduced to any world they occupied.

He shook his head in dismay.  Delivering the weapon would be easy enough, with a little work.  A missile warhead could be reconfigured to serve as a bioweapon delivery system, plunging through a planet’s atmosphere and releasing its cargo before it hit the ground.  Or a stealth missile could be used to sneak through planetary defences, posing as nothing more than a tiny meteor.  The aliens wouldn't stand a chance.

But it won’t get them all
, he thought. 
Those left behind will want a little revenge
.

“This might work if the aliens were intent on genocide,” he said, “but so far we don’t have any evidence the aliens are interested in outright extermination of humanity.”

“They might be saving the extermination until after they’ve won the war,” Doctor Russell pointed out.  “If Hitler had saved the Holocaust until after his victory, I suspect a great many people would view him more favourably, even though he would still be the same complete manic he always was.”

“True,” Ted agreed.  The weapon on the desk could exterminate the aliens – or serve as an incentive to make peace.  “A stay-behind team could deploy the weapon if Earth and the rest of the settled worlds were to be destroyed.”

“Indeed they could,” Doctor Russell said.  He smiled, clearly proud of himself.  “We believe the weapon will spread rapidly, but it won’t become lethal for several months.  There will be enough time for it to spread through alien-held space.”

Ted snorted.  The problem with any form of biological warfare was that the weapons tended to mutate when released into the natural world.  And the researchers were dealing with a completely alien biology, no matter how much they claimed to understand what they were doing.  It was quite possible the disease would be instantly lethal, fail completely or be defeated by something the aliens had invented for their own medical care.  If there were humans trying to improve the basic human form, why wouldn’t there be aliens trying to do the same?

And if the disease acted so rapidly it slaughtered an entire planet without going any further, it would be blindingly obvious to the aliens that it had been an attempt at genocide.

“I want you to keep all your research carefully sealed, Doctor,” Ted ordered.  The researchers were already largely isolated, but they were allowed to talk to the ambassadors and their aides.  As if the thought had worked a magic spell, he saw one of the aides appear at the hatch and start walking purposefully towards him.  “And do
not
talk about it outside the cleared circle.”

“I have every confidence in my security precautions,” Doctor Russell protested.  “I am no stranger to classified work ...”

“Then do as I tell you,” Ted ordered, shortly.  He turned to face Ambassador Melbourne’s aide.  “I suggest we take this conversation outside.”

The young man - Antony DuBois, if Ted recalled correctly – looked irked, but obeyed.  Ted wasn't too surprised.  He hadn’t met many such aides during his time on
Ark Royal
, something that hadn't prepared him for meeting them after his promotion.  The aides all seemed to think they had the clearances enjoyed by their political masters
and
that they had a right to know everything.  In some cases, they might have had a point.  This, Ted decided as he walked the younger man outside, wasn't one of them.