Conquest

-16-

The ride home was relatively uneventful. The crew didn’t seem to think so, however. I could tell they were green. They’d never had a swarm of sixteen semi-intelligent nuclear missiles trailing them and getting closer every minute. That sort of thing took some getting used to.

There wasn’t anything to worry about, really. Even with the about-face and a long glide back to Earth—which was orbiting away from our position, making us chase after her—the math was in our favor.

“Stop worrying, Miklos,” I said, “we’ll be back at least an hour before the missiles slam into the ship.”

“But we have to slow down to get home, and they keep accelerating,” he said, tapping nervously at a spreadsheet on his tablet. “The kinetic energy alone, even discounting the warheads….”

“All right, I’ll talk to Crow about it.”

It took me a few minutes to get the good admiral on the com-link. Just thinking about talking to Crow made my three-beer buzz transform into an instant headache. I’d been in a celebratory mood. I’d managed to talk the Macros into targeting Star Force alone. It’d been such a coup I wanted to savor it. Now, as the disk of Earth grew huge on the forward wall of the bridge, I realized it was time to get back to work.

“So,” Crow said, his voice replicated by the vibrating of the countless nanites that made up the walls of the bridge, “still alive, but running home to hide behind papa is that it? We’ve been watching your efforts at talking the Macros into a good mood. How’d that work out for you then, mate?”

“Just fine,” I said expansively. “I talked them out of destroying our planet.”

“You what? How is it then, might I ask, that I see a veritable horde of enemy ships on your ass? Not to mention the missile swarm, which they no doubt sent as a diplomatic gift?”

“I said I talked them out of destroying Earth,” I said. “They still have grim plans for me. And for the rest of Star Force. I gave them your address as a reference.”

I grinned at the crew, but none of them seemed to find my little joke as amusing as I did.

“Let me get this straight,” Crow said. “They are coming straight here? To Andros Island?”

“Now you’re catching on. If you want to keep this destroyer alive, I need you to make sure the laser turrets are on high alert. I’m going to fly over the island in low orbit. I need the turrets to shoot down those missiles.”

“We’ve calculated the velocities. They’ll only be in range for about two microseconds, do you realize that Riggs?”

“Yeah. Group them up on individual missiles so they don’t all fire at the same ones. Also, I figure I might have to do a second full speed orbit just to give the turrets another shot.”

“Hmm,” Crow said. “I don’t like it, Riggs. The Macros will be counting our guns. They’ve never seen how much firepower this island has. I don’t want to tip my hand just yet.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I could loft the fleet,” Crow said doubtfully.

“Might help,” I admitted, “if you want to keep this new destroyer of yours intact.” I hadn’t asked him to do it, so he could make the offer. I needed the support, but when dealing with Crow, one never wanted to seem weak. When Crow sensed weakness, he got ideas. For instance, he might get the idea that getting rid of the irritating Colonel Kyle Riggs was worth the loss of a single destroyer.

In the end Crow agreed to my plan. We streaked toward Earth, moving too fast to get into a real orbital pattern. We were beyond escape velocity the entire time. Using full engine power, I would be able to swing around the planet in a wide oval, bringing us back around the world for a second pass over Andros about thirty minutes later. Hopefully by that time the missiles trailing us would run out of maneuvering fuel or they would all be shot down.

While we waited, I popped a fourth beer and sipped it. The flavor was harsh. I looked at the can and saw a picture of a bear on it. Squinting at the label, I saw it was from Romania. I smiled at Miklos, who was still sweating in his command chair.

“You must like beer as well,” I said, “have one with me.”

He hesitated, then got up and opened a fresh one. He tipped it to me and took a swig. “How did you know it was mine?” he asked.

“The Romanian bear on the label. I just figured.”

He smiled. I thought it might have been the first real smile I’d ever seen on his face.

“You know, Colonel,” he said, taking a large swallow, “you are just as crazy as everyone says you are.”

“Crazier,” I told him confidently.

“What if we lose, sir?” he asked.

“You mean the war?”

“Yes. What if Star Force is destroyed, but the rest of Earth stays quiet and peaceful in order to survive.”

I thought about it. “Then I suppose we will be like the Centaurs in their star system. Fantasizing we are at peace with the Macros, while they circle around trying to figure out how to eat us.”

“Like Romania bears, eh?”

“Exactly.”

His words cause me to remember something. I needed to talk to Earth. They couldn’t fire on the Macros in any way, not even at their missiles, or they would be marked down as hostile again and everything I’d done out here today would be for nothing. I didn’t think they had any armament capable of shooting down a Macro missile at this range, but I wasn’t sure. They’d been building up as fast as possible, stealing bits of tech from Star Force wherever they could. Maybe they had a few surprises in store by now.

It took about seven minutes to get General Kerr on the com-link. I was surprised he wasn’t sitting on the phone. He had to be aware of everything that was going on up here. Kerr and I had an odd relationship. We’d often been in antagonistic roles. But we needed each other often, too. Sometimes there wasn’t any room for bullshit, and we both needed to communicate plainly. Many others had tried to establish themselves as intermediaries between various Earth governments and Star Force. I’d always rejected them and insisted on Kerr. It wasn’t because I loved the guy—far from it. But I understood him fairly well and he understood me, too. Sometimes, when life or death decisions are being made on the fly, having a tight relationship with the guy on the other end of the line was very valuable.

“Riggs? Are you the one flying that batmobile?”

“General Kerr,” I said, “this isn’t a social call. Listen closely, please.”

“Go ahead.”

“There is a tight grouping of missiles following my ship back to Earth. It is imperative that Earth forces do not fire on those missiles. You must relay this to every military on the planet. When we cruise by, do not attempt to jam them. Do not attempt to obstruct them. Do not shoot them down. Preferably, you will not even actively ping them with radar or let one of your satellites drift close by. But I’m pretty sure that’s too much to ask.”

“It is too much to ask. I’m not even sure I can convince every nation on Earth to stand by and hope for the best.”

“You don’t have to. Just talk to the ten or so who actually have the capability to do anything effective. They must not provoke the coming Macro fleet. I have managed to convince them their only enemies on Earth consist of Star Force on Andros Island. All that diplomatic work will be for nothing if people get trigger happy down there.”

General Kerr laughed. “That’s what you call diplomacy? Looks to me like you got them royally pissed off. Classic Kyle Riggs. I’ve always said you had a silver tongue in your head.”

I smiled grimly. “Right sir, I take after you. But in any case, any assets that fire on the aliens must be Star Force units.”

Kerr paused. “Are you asking for operational control of some of my systems, Kyle?”

“No, sir,” I said. “I’m asking for you to appear to be under my command if you get involved.”

“Humph,” he said. “I don’t want to make promises, but I’ll do my best.”

“Remember what happened to China, sir. Remind them about that.”

“Good point. Kerr out.”

The first pass over Andros happened some thirty minutes later. We sailed by, scudding at the outer fringe of the atmosphere. Daringly, we brought our ship down to an attitude of around sixty-five miles. At our speed, there was good amount of friction and bumping even though the ‘air’ outside the ship consisted primarily of occasional hydrogen atoms.

The missiles passed by the same spot some ten minutes later. We watched on our nanite screens of metallic relief, but the more comprehensible data was available on normal LED screens at our stations. Crow’s fleet hung up above us at that point, nearly a hundred vessels in low orbit. They all fired the moment we passed by and the missiles were in range. They only had a chance to fire once, but there were about a hundred and fifty shots.

Beams stabbed out invisibly in space. Without anything to burn, the light emissions weren’t anything that would register on the human eye other than to blind and burn any retina in their path. Our sensors helped out, drawing bright green rays of pixels on our screens to show where the laser fire flickered and licked like momentary flames.

Eleven of the missiles vanished. I smiled, happy to see the success of my plans. Fleet had taken them out nicely. With any luck at all, the missiles would be running out of power to bank around the Earth. Even if they did make the turn, we had time to complete the maneuver again and shoot the rest of them down. If we hit eleven the first time, hitting five on the second pass should be done easily. Both my ship and the missiles were going to have to slow down somewhat further on the second pass to keep close to Earth.

The orbit took less than ten minutes. I let the missiles get closer this time, to keep them interested.

“Sir…” said the helmsman, “the missiles are changing course.”

“Where…?” Miklos began.

I cut him off, shouting for a com-link to Crow. “Barbarossa, relay to Star Force control, move your ships. Repeat, scatter all vessels.”

“Colonel Riggs is not command personnel.”

“Send the message, Barbarossa!” Captain Miklos shouted. He had figured out what was happening.

We were too late. The missiles, moving at tremendous speed toward unsuspecting stationary targets, were nearly impossible to stop. The formation of the Star Force ships was thoughtless. They were in a flat formation over Earth, spread out at approximately the same altitude. The problem was they didn’t have a free field of fire laterally toward something approaching at the same altitude they were. When the missiles swerved up to their altitude during the last seconds, half the ships could not fire on them without risking hitting their sisters.

Confusion caused the fleet to shift slightly as the last five missiles zoomed up toward them. It wasn’t a scatter order, or an organized retreat. It was just confusion.

“They knocked out one missile—no, two,” said the helmsman.

We were all glued to our screens. I’m not sure anyone was even breathing. Three clouds puffed into existence less than a second later. The clouds were a brilliant white release of energy. They expanded into bumpy spheres, then dissipated rapidly, turning into tiny pin pricks of light and finally nothing.

I wanted to put a hand to my face, but the big armored glove loomed close and I stopped myself before I pulled skin off.

“Losses?” I asked.

“Three hits, three ships. Two frigates and a destroyer—the Valiant, sir. It was her maiden voyage.”

I nodded. No one said anything for a while as we decelerated and made our approach over Andros on our next orbit. Crow had played it badly, putting his ships too close to the kill zone and lining them all up at the same altitude. But I’d underestimated the intelligence of the enemy and hadn’t warned him about the possibility. I was supposed to be the resident expert on Macro behavior. It was my guess Crow would blame me for the losses.

I reflected on the trick they’d played upon us. In my experience, Macros tended to choose a path and follow it doggedly, even if it was disastrous, like a line of mindless ants marching into a flame. But twice now they’d varied their behavior and shifted tactics when something didn’t work the first time. Could it be the new dreadnaught had altered their behavioral patterns? Could it be a command ship of sorts? Maybe it made them more intelligent, more adaptable. It was a chilling thought, but the evidence was there.

“Admiral Crow is attempting to connect to you on a private channel, sir,” said the helmsman.

I nodded slowly. I knew my helmet was beeping at me. Without looking, I knew who was making that little green light blink. But didn’t answer the call.

“Ignore it,” I said.

I didn’t feel like listening to a tirade right now. I was doing a good enough job yelling at myself inside my own head. I should have just used all of Andros’ guns and knocked out the missiles on the first pass. It didn’t pay to be cagey when facing a swarm of nukes.