Planet Wrecker

-36-

Grand Admiral Cassius was aboard the Julius Caesar in near-Earth orbit over the middle of North America. The Doom Star supplied heavy laser fire against a cybertank charge out of Kansas City. The Tenth and Fifteenth FEC Corps together with the Twenty-Third Jump-Jet Division spearheaded a final assault against this stubborn knot of resistance. The cybertank charge no doubt attempted to blunt the FEC offensive.

Kansas City had been the focal point for the middle North American stronghold. During the conquest of the continent, the Highborn had bypassed Kansas City, covering the approaches with secondary units. The strategy had been classic Blitzkrieg, flowing through weak areas to cut-off and isolate the strongholds. Then they’d besieged the strongholds at their leisure.

“Impressive equipment,” said Cassius. He sat in his command shell, examining holoimages of the cybertanks. The one he watched had multiple turrets and independent tracks. It likely weighed well over one hundred tons. The laser beam from the Heavens was red-colored on the holoimage. Unbelievably, the cybertank’s armor withstood the laser for several seconds. It even sprayed a cloud of prismatic crystals over itself.

“Amazing,” said Cassius.

Then the heavy laser that could fire in a coherent beam an easy one million kilometers burned through the prismatic crystals and punched through the reflective and composite armor. Still, the cybertank launched missiles at nearby FEC troops and chugged thousands of rounds of explosive shells. Wisely, the infantry hugged the ground, staying out-of-sight. Several jet-jump flyers weren’t so lucky, but tumbled to the ground as bloody chunks of meat. Then the Doom Star’s primary laser destroyed the cybertank, turning the massive vehicle into a mound of slag.

The other cybertanks had already turned around, and roared back toward their underground bunkers.

“It’s too late for that,” Cassius said. “They should have kept charging, doing what damage they could. Now they will die uselessly. Premen are such fools.”

“Your Excellency,” said tall Scipio. “I’m receiving a strange message from the premen.”

“They wish to surrender, do they?” said Cassius.

“No sir. It isn’t from the resistance forces. Sir,” said Scipio. “This is a direct message from Supreme Commander Hawthorne of Social Unity.”

“Verify that,” said Cassius.

“I already have, sir. All indications are this is Hawthorne. Just a minute, sir,” said Scipio. “His office is sending us a download.”

“Put it into a lone system, unattached to the ship. We don’t want them infecting us with a computer virus.”

“It’s done Your Excellency,” said Scipio.

“What does the file say?”

The tall Highborn—Scipio—studied his board. He was silent for a time, his mannerism indicating absorbed interest. Then his bionic hand smashed against his board as he cursed loudly.

It brought Cassius to his feet. In several strides, he was at Scipio’s station. “Show me the information.”

Scipio turned harsh features toward him. “The war—” He shook his head. “This is beyond reason.”

“Show me,” said Cassius, as he put a powerful hand on one of Scipio’s shoulders, squeezing until the tall Highborn squirmed in probable pain.

Scipio pressed a button and wrenched himself free of the Grand Admiral’s grip. He stood and indicated that Cassius sit in his spot.

Cassius did so, and he began to watch video files concerning the ice-asteroid and the larger asteroid-cluster behind it. He received the information in silence, reading the accompanying text many times faster than a preman could absorb such a quantity data.

“Supreme Commander Hawthorne wishes to speak to you,” Scipio said.

Cassius stared at the tall Highborn. Scipio’s features had turned ashen-colored. The Saturn-originated asteroids, their unnatural speeds, the possibility they were armed as the Jovian moon Carme had been…. The cyborg strategy was obvious. It was ruthless, cold-blooded and brilliant.

With an oath, Cassius surged to his feet. He felt lightheaded. All his plans of Earth conquest—with a violent mental shove, he pushed those plans aside. He was the epitome of Highborn excellence. Quick mental acuity, the ability to shift onto a new strategic axis, those were the marks of Highborn superiority. Hardly aware of what he was doing, Cassius strode to his shell.

“Put Hawthorne through,” Cassius heard himself say. “Let’s see what this so-called preman genius wishes to tell us.”