Conquest

-38-

Running through the bunker, I took flight when I reached each ramp downward. Marines threw themselves out of the way as we passed. Alarms were sounding, and I could hear tramping boots on the bunker’s metal floors as marines were mustered from their brief respites. It was time for battle again, and I knew already this was going to be the big one.

The command center glowed with the soft blue light of a dozen screens. Standing in the center of it all was Lieutenant Colonel Barrera. He had a grim look on his face, but there was nothing unusual about that.

“How long do we have?” I asked him as I stepped up to his side.

Behind me, Kwon took up a post at the door. Barrera didn’t look at me. He continued to gaze at the screens instead. Hundreds of red contacts slowly closed upon our position from every angle.

“Not long, sir,” he said. “Not long at all.”

I knew what he meant. We were about to be overrun, and we both knew it. Now was the time to pull in the last cards I had. There would be no retreat from here other than sweet death.

“Major Sarin,” I said, “get Admiral Crow on the command channel.”

A moment later, she made the connection.

“Colonel Riggs,” Crow said. “I thought you might be calling me soon. Let me say before you make any requests, I’m not in a suicidal mood today. I suggest you pull out right now. Have your men abandon the island to the west. Let the robots fight this one, Kyle. Your automated laser turrets against their ships and walkers.”

“That’s unacceptable,” I said.

“Don’t make any rash judgments, Kyle.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t expect me to wade into this fight with my last hundred ships. I’m all Earth has left.”

“I don’t want you to fight over Andros.”

“You don’t?” Crow asked. “What’s in that twisted mind of yours, then?”

“Move your ships over the U. S. mainland. Position them over Florida.”

“What the hell for?”

“You’ll see. Will you do it?”

Crow hesitated. I knew he was calculating how fast he could run if the Macro fleet turned and charged after him. I’d already made those calculations. He could easily escape.

“All right, but this better not be some kind of trick.”

“It is, and you’d better hope that it works. Riggs out.”

Barrera finally turned to look at me when the conversation ended. He raised his eyebrows and stared. I didn’t feel like explaining things right then, so I ignored him.

“Major Sarin,” I said, “connect me to General Kerr in NORAD please.”

Barrera gave a small nod. Was that a smile? Perhaps he’d figured out what I was going to attempt. After another thirty seconds, Kerr was on the line.

“It’s been a few days of hard fighting, Colonel,” he said. “I want to say from all of us, that we’ve been impressed up here. Everyone knows you did your best.”

“Thank you, General.”

“Are you calling to tell us you’re pulling out, or to tell us what to inscribe on your tombstones? I’ve got money on this one, Riggs. Think hard.”

I smiled grimly. “Neither, General. We are neither quitting nor dying today. But I do need your help, sir.”

“Ah, option three! I’ll have you know I just won an easy hundred bucks.”

“Is your cooperation required for you to cash in?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m equally sad to report our subs are out of position to fire upon the enemy. It would be suicide to do so, anyway.”

“That’s not what I wanted, sir.”

“What then?”

“I need ICBMs, sir. A lot of them. Every ship-killer you’ve got. But I only want them coming from the U. S. Tell the others to hold back.”

“The Macros won’t fall for that this time. And we’re watching your fleet, which is massing over our airspace now. We aren’t excited about the idea of Star Force ‘punishing’ us the way you did to the Chinese a while back.”

“I’m sure you’re not, sir. But that is not my intent. My intent is to win this battle, not slip out of it.”

“I don’t know, Riggs. We’ve wargamed this out six ways from Sunday. I don’t think Star Force has a pray.”

“Are you reneging on our deal, sir?”

“Riggs—”

“Why the hell did you build all those ship-killers anyway? Are you going to hang flowers on them? Fire on the enemy. That’s all I’m asking, sir. Take it to the President.”

I heard a sigh. “All right Riggs, give me a minute.”

The connection broke.

We watched tensely as the enemy began assaulting the walls. The first wave consisted of smaller machines, the ones that had crawled up out of the tunnels that now riddled Andros Island. Behind them the surviving big machines, hung back. I realized they were waiting for their fleet to support them. They were taking no more chances.

Out over the ocean the Macro fleet formed up and became a line three layers deep. They began firing their big cannons down on us. We didn’t have much left to fire back with. The coastal turrets on the eastern side of the island had been pretty much wiped out. The three central forts with their big lasers had all been knocked out and we hadn’t had time to repair them. The laser turrets on the island’s western flank were out of range. I still had one more card left, however.

“Barrera, commit the hovertanks,” I ordered.

“How many of them, sir?”

“All of them. Hit the enemy’s northern flank.”

“Is that wise, sir? We’ll have nothing left to cover a withdrawal.”

I looked at him. He stared back for a second and then relayed my orders. Was that a tiny shake of the head? The man had his doubts, I could tell. I was used to that, however. I stepped closer to the screens and watched the battle rage in the form of a thousand multi-colored contacts.

“Look up north, Colonel,” Major Sarin said.

I switched my gaze to another screen which showed the entire hemisphere. A cloud of yellow contacts had appeared out over the American Midwest.

“Mark those as friendly,” I snapped.

“Are we sure of that?”

I laughed bitterly. “Those weapons are coming out of the missile silos around South Dakota. If they are coming for us—we’re screwed anyway.”

Major Sarin tapped at the screens. The missile contacts changed to a bright green. They moved with alarming speed down toward us. I knew right away these were new missiles, with new technology. Old ICBMs would have taken a good seven minutes to reach the Caribbean. These new birds would be here in less than four. I nodded to myself, glad to see the rest of the world had been staying up nights trying to build better weapons.

The Macro Fleet was pounding us now, all along the coast. I could feel the ground shudder and tremble with impacts under my smart-metal boots.

“Helmets on, everyone,” I said. “If this bunker sustains a direct hit, we’ll need full armor.”

The ship-killer missiles reached Florida and passed among the hundred or so contacts that represented Star Force’s Fleet. The missiles began coming down from their sub-orbital flight then, making their intentions obvious. Finally, the enemy fleet took notice. They slowly wheeled their formation to face this new threat. Their dreadnaught moved forward to defend their cruisers. The bombardment of the base slackened, but did not let up entirely.

Major Sarin gasped. My eyes snapped up. Hundreds of new red contacts had appeared on the boards. I stepped toward the screens, swallowing.

“They’ve unleashed a heavy barrage,” Barrera said, his tone maddeningly calm.

“How many?” I snapped.

“Over forty …forty-five…fifty...”

More and more missiles poured out. Every cruiser fired several. I knew they’d kept half their missiles in reserve at the very least. Possibly, they had been building more aboard their ships. I didn’t know if they had the capability to rearm, but I had to assume they did.

“They’ve stopped firing, sir. About sixty birds in total. All standard Macro design.”

I opened my mouth to tell Jasmine to contact Crow, but he beat me to it.

“Admiral Crow sir,” she said.

“Open the connection,” I said.

“Riggs? What the hell is this? How did you get the entire planet to fire on me at once?”

“The missiles are not intended for your ships, Jack.”

“I’m sorry, I’m pulling out. We can’t take the risk.”

“Hold your position, Jack, damn it!” I shouted. “Raise up out of the atmosphere if you feel like it. You’ll see, the missiles won’t track after you. Just hang there and shoot down everything the Macros fired. That’s all I’m asking.”

Crow cursed at me. I was some kind of cross between a pig’s ass and a wallaby, as best I could make out. “All right, but this had better not be a trick.”

I breathed deeply again as the Star Force ships held firm. They did lift up higher, and when the Macro missiles passed by they fired thousands of pulsing beams down into them.

I caught Barrera nodding. “Very good move, sir. How did you know where the Macros would aim their missiles?”

“They are literal-minded, even for machines. They’ll try to take out the missile bases first. Florida is right on the flight-path between the two locations. Crow’s Fleet is too weak to hit the Macros head-on, but they can still thin the missile barrage. I had been hoping they would fire fewer missiles.”

“On the good side,” Barrera said, “that means they have less missiles to fire at us. But on the negative, you’ve just brought the U. S. and possibly all of Earth into this war. I thought we weren’t going to do that, Colonel.”

We exchanged glances. “I had hoped it could be avoided,” I said.

Barrera continued to stare at me. “Did you always intend to risk all of humanity in this struggle?”

“If necessary. I’d rather die free than live as a slave.”

Barrera was scowling now. I could tell he didn’t like my position. Who knew, maybe he was right. But I didn’t think so. I’d been inside the ships of these monsters. I understood them better than most. They weren’t going to stop coming until we were all dead or enslaved. And they would only tolerate us as slaves as long as were useful to them. This war was about extinction, and if we didn’t fight now, I didn’t think we would become stronger over time. Historically, species, tribes, nations and the like that were pushed to the brink and defeated rarely saw their revenge later on.

“Fleet is stopping the Macro missiles, sir,” Major Sarin said with relief.

We all looked up at the screen expectantly. The red slivers of color that represented the enemy missiles over the coast of Florida were indeed being burned down, one after another. Suddenly, however, a flash appeared on the coast. I frowned.

“Was that…?”

“A hit, sir,” Major Sarin said, her voice catching in her throat.

We all watched in stunned silence. Another flash went off, then another.

“Riggs, this is Crow,” the ceiling said.

I was almost too stunned to respond. “Miami is gone, Admiral,” I managed to say a moment later without losing control of my emotions or my voice.

“I know. I’m sorry about that, mate. The missiles must have realized that they weren’t going to get through. They are dropping on the coast. I’m moving further south now to prevent that.”

I nodded, and watched as Fleet did advance, shooting down the last missiles. Before it was over, four had hit alternate targets. Boca Raton, Fort Lauderdale and Miami—they were all glowing white spots on our screens. Casualty estimates flashed up on the screen. They were in seven digits. I gritted my teeth and avoided looking at them.

“Regrettable, right sir?” Barrera asked.

I glanced at him sharply, feeling an urge to smash my fist into his helmet. I resisted the feeling, but was surprised I’d felt it at all. I could not recall ever having felt that way about Barrera before. I supposed it was just the emotions of the moment.

I turned back to the boards. “Professionalism, Lieutenant Colonel,” I said. “The U. S. ship-killers are about to make their strike.”

The flock of green contacts finally slammed home. The big dreadnaught had glided forward to meet them, and beams flashed from its back, expertly taking out missiles with each lash of invisible heat. Still, the surviving missiles rolled in. The Macros broke formation, scattering. Missiles homed, burning their engines up until the last second.

We held our breath until the first one flared white. Then more went off.

“Eight kills, sir,” Major Sarin said.

I couldn’t even hear her over the cheering that came from the hallway. Most of it came from higher up in the bunker, where marines were watching summary screens. To my surprise, I realized Kwon and I were cheering too. Even the taciturn Barrera gave a hoarse shout.

“Why don’t they fire their missiles at us?” Barrera asked. “I’ve been expecting that all along.”

“We took out their entire barrage last time. They went for a hammer-blow, a single strike to take out the whole island, and they lost everything they put into it. Macros don’t mind losses if goals are met, but they don’t like to repeat serious mistakes. I suspect they’ve marked us as ‘un-nukeable’ in their database.”

“But they’ve wiped out our laser defenses.”

“I also think they like to hold their missiles in reserve. Or maybe they came in with their magazines half-empty. Let’s just hope they don’t change their minds now.”

“Their dreadnaught has been hit, sir,” Jasmine continued. “It survived the strike, however. They’ve lost a total of thirteen cruisers.”

I didn’t know if the U. S. had used all their missiles, but I suspected they probably had. They’d fired over two hundred birds and taken out about a quarter of the enemy fleet. It was a good hit, but possibly not enough to save Andros.

“Sir,” Major Sarin said. I glanced at her and she directed my attention toward another screen. A new flock of yellowish contacts had appeared over Great Britain.

“What the hell?” I asked of no one in particular.

“There are seventy-six missiles in this barrage, sir,” Major Sarin said. “They are roughly of the same design as the U. S. missiles.”

“Huh,” I said. “I didn’t think the Brits had it in them. Apparently, they’ve decided to join this war. Maybe they think it’s now or never. Change those missile contacts to green, Major, and relay a request to Crow. Have him move his ships to interpose themselves between the Macro fleet and Britain, in case the Macros decide to respond with a barrage of their own.”

“Admiral Crow has agreed to your request. Fleet is moving away from their position over Florida.”

Contacts slid this way and that on the boards. The battle remained fluid. Slowly, the enemy fleet organized and turned back toward Andros. Their dreadnaught moved separately, out to sea. It clearly meant to meet the barrage from Britain and halt as many of the missiles as possible. I scanned the map until my eyes landed on our hovertank reserves, which had nearly joined the battle. Up until now, I’d kept them on the western half of the island where they could not be hit easily. Soon however, they would be under fire.

“They still have too many ships bearing down on us,” I said. “Order the hovertanks to chase the dreadnaught on the eastern side of their formation. If they can, they should attack out on the water, where they have a clear field of fire against it.”

Barrera looked at me as if I was insane. “They’ll be out of range of all our defensive fire. They’ll be annihilated, sir.”

“Not before they take down that dreadnaught.”

“The dreadnaught?”

“The key to the enemy forces now is that dreadnaught. Without it, they can’t shoot down Earth’s ship-killer missiles. Without the dreadnaught, we’ll be able to destroy their fleet. If they lose their fleet, they won’t commit their big invasion machines against us, and Fort Pierre will not fall.”

Barrera shook his head in bafflement. I ignored him and relayed the order to the hovertank commander myself. I watched as they slid slowly over the sea to chase the enemy dreadnaught. I knew they didn’t have much of a chance to survive against more than forty cruisers, but if they could just take down the enemy’s big ship, the rest of the ships would be exposed to our side’s missiles.

Sandra came into the room then. She had a predatory tension to her. My eyes flashed to Jasmine, who had seen her as well. Jasmine reached for her sidearm and drew it.

Sandra scanned the room once, her eyes sliding past Jasmine and I. She spotted Barrera, and leaped over the battle computer with a single bound. Her knife was in her hand, gleaming.

I was surprised, and barely had time to take a step forward before she grabbed Barrera by the neck and pushed a knife into his breastplate. Barrera was wearing a battle suit. He clamped her wrist with an armored glove and struggled with her. The knife made a horrible scratching sound, the screeching of metal cutting metal. Blood, nanites and sparks flew everywhere.

I reached the struggling pair and tried to pull Sandra off him—her strength was shocking. Even with an exoskeleton to help me, I had a hard time pulling her off Barrera. A beam went off, burning a hole in the ceiling. Barrera had fired one of his arm-mounted weapons.

“It was him, Kyle!” Sandra said, her voice rasping in her throat. “It was him all along.”