Crimson Worlds Collection III Read online
Page 2
Garret looked back thoughtfully, but he didn’t say anything…not right away. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his coarse hair. It was long…getting a haircut hadn’t been a priority for a long time. He was grayer now than when he’d set out from Sandoval, chasing Terrance Compton and the advance guard into the unknown. He still hadn’t really dealt with the full emotional impact of what had happened. It was one thing to lose a friend. He and Compton had been warriors all their adult lives, and both had known that men and women die in war. But this wasn’t just a friend lost in battle. Garret knew Compton’s blood was on his hands…and that of the 40,000 naval crew and Marines he’d stranded in the X2 system. He had given the order. There hadn’t been a choice, not one that didn’t put all of humanity at grave risk. But Garret was finding that meant less and less to him. He’d done what he’d done, and all his life, Augustus Garret had taken responsibility for his actions. It was his order and no one else’s that killed his friend, and that was what really mattered.
“Sir?” Cain was looking across the table, clearly reluctant to interrupt the admiral’s introspection.
Garret shook himself out of his daydreaming. “Sorry, Erik.”
Cain just nodded. He understood…more than anyone else could, and Garret knew it.
“There is nothing that Gavin Stark wouldn’t do if he felt it was in his interest. Treason isn’t even far down on that list. The man is soulless. He is a pure sociopath.” Garret took a breath, pushing back the rage the mere mention of Stark caused, thinking for a few seconds before he continued. “But I still find it hard to believe any of the Powers could be behind this. The resources required to build a secret military force would bankrupt any of them now. The time required to train a truly combat-ready army would be considerable, especially with all the suitable cadres out on the Rim with us.” He paused again and sighed. “However, I have no other theory.” His eyes were locked on Cain’s. “Nothing…not even a hunch.”
Cain leaned back in his chair. “Then we agree…reluctantly.” His eyes were staring back at Garret’s. “Our primary theory is that one…” He paused for an instant. “…or more…of the Powers is behind this aggression?” He didn’t look at all satisfied.
“Yes, I suppose. However unlikely this may seem, it is a far more reasonable assumption than anything else I can think of.”
The two sat quietly for a few minutes, both deep in thought, profoundly unsatisfied with their determination. Finally, Cain rose slowly. “Well, whatever is going on, it looks like we’re going to have some fighting to do.” His voice was somber, thick with resignation. He’d lost a lot of his people in the combat on Sigma 4. Now it looked like his Marines weren’t through. “I’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re going to have any kind of battle-ready force.” He looked down at his chronometer and then at Garret. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to attend to a few things before I strap in.”
Garret stayed in his seat, but he looked up. “Of course, Erik.” He tried to force a tiny smile, but it died on his lips. “Do what you can to get your people ready…for whatever.” Neither of them mentioned that a lot of the troops Cain was commanding were ground forces from the other Powers. That was going to be a sticky problem if one or more of those nations were currently invading Alliance colonies.
Cain started to walk to the door, holding his hand in front of the security panel. The hatch slid open.
“Erik?”
Cain turned back toward Garret. “Yes, sir?”
“Be careful what you say to anyone.”
Cain nodded. They both knew what Garret meant.
The cabin was silent. Cain was lying on the bed on his side, reading the reports on his ’pad. They’d practically been living in the acceleration couches as Garret pushed the fleet to the breaking point, but the admiral hadn’t been able to put off heavy maintenance any longer, and the tired and sore men and women of the fleet got a 36-hour reprieve from being bruised and bloated at 35g.
Erik had been at the desk for hours, but the pain in his back finally became too much to ignore, and he retreated to the bed. Too many wounds over the years, he thought. Sarah and her people had put him back together more than once, and they’d worked wonders doing it. By all rights, Erik Cain should have been dead long ago. But even the Corps’ crack medical staff couldn’t undo every hurt. Cain’s body wasn’t 23 years old anymore and, rejuv treatments or not, men weren’t built for the kind of abuse he’d taken over two and a half decades of war.
Stretching out on his side usually gave him some relief. At least from his back pain. There was no way to make his current job any less burdensome and depressing. He couldn’t escape the truth. His Marine units were shattered. Endless war had cost them most of their veterans and left them pale shadows of what they had been. If he lost the allied contingents – the Janissaries especially – he’d be lucky to put two or three decent battalions in the field. And that wasn’t going to be enough. Not even close. If the Grand Pact disintegrated, he didn’t know what he was going to do to liberate captured colony worlds.
Cain thought of Farooq…and the other allied contingent officers. They’d learned to respect, even like, each other during their bitter struggle against the First Imperium. Even a grim cynic like Erik Cain had begun to wonder if the mutual respect and camaraderie that had developed might open the door to a brighter future, one of cooperation and friendship rather than constant war and strife.
Now he began to wonder. Would he soon be facing his new comrades again…would they be back, staring at each other from opposite sides of a bloody battlefield? He had begun to develop a real friendship with Farooq. Despite a long history of enmity between nations and vastly different cultures, he’d been surprised to find somewhat of a kindred spirit in the Janissary commander. What would happen now? Would they become enemies again? Would his duty compel him to try to kill his new friend?
If it did, he wondered, would he do it? Or would he refuse, resist a return to the old grievances? He let out a deep, exhausted breath. He knew it was never that simple. He might want to stand on principle, but if Alliance worlds were under attack, Cain was going to defend them. Whatever he had to do.
Besides, he thought, it wasn’t as if it was solely his decision to make. When the fleet got back to Core space, Farooq would receive orders from his own government. The First Imperium was contained; the Grand Pact had served its purpose. Now it would disband and the various national contingents would go their separate ways. What orders would the Caliphate high command send Ali Khaled and Farooq and the rest of the Janissary officers? And what would they do when they got those orders?
Chapter 2
Diplomatic Directorate Building
Washbalt Metroplex
Earth, Sol III
“This diplomatic doubletalk is intolerable. My government needs an immediate explanation, Ambassador Monroe.” Lord Salam was the head of the Caliphate’s Ministry of Diplomacy. Normally a calm and measured man, he was angry now, and it showed. “I trust you appreciate the gravity of the situation.”
“Lord Salam, I can assure you that my government is as concerned as yours regarding an explanation of recent events.” Gwen Monroe was trying to hide her exhaustion. Salam was the fourth ambassador today to have a shot at her. “We are as much at a loss as your government as to what is happening. We can only assume that rogue First Imperium forces remain on this side of the Barrier.” The disrupted warp gate that separated human from First Imperium space had acquired a name almost immediately.
“That is a most convenient explanation, Ambassador, but not one I find terribly compelling. We had a large number of damaged warships in the repair queue at Wolf 359, and we have lost all contact with them. We demand an explanation as to their current whereabouts and condition.”
Monroe almost sighed, but she caught herself. It had been a long day, and it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. “Lord Salam, I remind you that there were Alliance ships in the system as well. More, in fact,
than Caliphate vessels.”
“Wolf 359 is an Alliance system!” Salam was starting to lose his temper. “We joined with you in good faith to confront the First Imperium invasion, and now, as soon as that threat is defeated, we are expected to believe that you do not know the status of our forces deployed with yours? And that you know nothing of those of any other power either?” He paused, reining in his temper. “Is that what I am expected to bring back to the Caliph?” Another pause, slightly longer. “So, is this how your nation treats its allies?”
Monroe gripped the armrest of the chair, trying to keep her hands from moving up and massaging her temples. The headache was the worst she’d ever had, and it didn’t seem likely to get any better before this interminable day ended. Tension had been building for two weeks, but today the diplomatic floodgates had burst. It’s not a good sign, she thought, that Salam’s anger is so obvious. The Caliphate diplomatic chief wasn’t a hothead prone to outbursts. His visible fury meant the situation was gravely serious. If things got out of hand, there was no way of knowing the possible implications…but none of them were good.
“I can assure you that we have shared all the information we have.” Monroe was trying not to let her own anger flare up, but it was becoming more difficult to maintain her restraint. She was reasonably confident the Alliance wasn’t involved in any of what had happened…though she’d been part of the government long enough to know she could never be sure she knew everything. “I remind you that all of the planets that have apparently been attacked have been Alliance worlds.” That comment was a mistake, she thought immediately…it can only escalate this.
“And you offer no evidence that these alleged attacks have actually taken place.” Salam’s voice was rising again. “Nothing but your assurances.” He stood up. “Perhaps these claims are nothing more than cover for whatever your government is up to. Otherwise, I challenge you to explain why only Alliance planets seem to have been targeted.” His eyes tracked hers as she followed his lead and rose to her feet. “No. Such explanations are nonsense. The First Imperium threat has been contained. Now, I fear we see Alliance treachery in the aftermath.” He turned and started toward the door. “I waste my time here.”
“Lord Salam, please. Nothing will be served by allowing this matter to deteriorate. My government is sending an expedition to Wolf 359 to investigate. We are more than willing to allow the Caliphate to send its own representatives along with ours.”
Salam looked unconvinced, but he stopped and didn’t continue toward the door. “And our forces in the Grand Fleet? Will you allow us to utilize your Commnet network to communicate with them?” Each Power had its own network to facilitate system to system communication, but the path that led to the First Imperium passed mostly though Alliance space. None of the other Powers could communicate with the returning fleet, not without using the Alliance’s system. They had been allowed to utilize Commnet during the campaign, but in the wake of the recent troubles, Alliance Gov panicked and revoked access.
Monroe paused. She wasn’t authorized to give Salam what he was requesting. That refusal had come all the way from the top, and there was no use questioning it. It made sense…the last thing Admiral Garret needed was for his allied contingents to start getting disruptive orders from their respective governments. They’d be lucky if Grand Fleet didn’t disintegrate into warring factions while it was still out on the frontier. But refusing to allow communications only reinforced the impression that the Alliance was behind whatever was going on.
“I cannot authorize that without permission from higher up, Mahmoud. You know that. However, I will forward your request to my superiors.” She’d never get that permission…she was sure of that much. But playing for time looked like her best option.
Salam stared at her suspiciously. He figured she was only trying to delay, but he also knew she was probably telling the truth about not having the authority to grant access herself. “Very well, Gwen.” His voice was a bit calmer, though there was a coldness still there, making it obvious he was still angry. “I suggest you request authorization at once.” He turned again and started toward the door. He paused and looked back. “You will have my government’s formal request within the hour.” He bowed his head slightly, and walked out into the corridor without another word.
“I wish to thank you for coming to my office at this hour, Mr. Chairman. I felt that our interests would be best served by keeping as low a profile as possible on this matter. At least for now.” Li An’s voice was hoarse and weak. She was old, very old, and her legendary constitution was at last beginning to fail her. The current situation, she suspected, would be her last crisis. And it was shaping up to be a big one. “This is the one place I am absolutely certain is secure.” C1 was the CAC’s primary external intelligence agency, though that was a designation without significant meaning. It was well known that Li An and her people flagrantly disregarded their lack of a mandate to spy internally. The “Old Bitch,” as she was called by rivals on the Committee, had extensive dossiers on every senior member of the government. It had proven to be the world’s most effective insurance policy, saving her ass more than once.
“Indeed, Minister Li. If our history of working together has proven anything to me, it is to respect your judgment.” Huang Wei was the Chairman of the Central Committee, and the official head of state of the Central Asian Combine. By all rights, Li should have gone to his office or official residence if she wanted a private audience. CAC culture was based heavily on tradition and formality. But Huang knew Li An well. He didn’t trust her – no one with any sense really trusted the head of C1 – but he knew better than to ignore her concerns. “I presume this pertains to the current crisis involving our forces at Wolf 359 and with the Grand Fleet?”
“Indeed it does, Mr. Chairman.” Li was sitting in one of the plush leather chairs at a small conference table next to her desk. Huang sat facing her. “I fear the matter may be far more complex than we have believed.”
Huang looked across the table intently. “Indeed, Minister Li, I would be most interested in any information you may have. The situation is rapidly escalating, and I fear how far it may lead us.” He paused, clearly uncertain if he wanted to tell her something. Finally, his face relaxed. Li, a master of reading people, knew immediately that the CAC’s Chairman had decided to provide her information of grave importance.
“Ministers Chen and Zhao have approached me in confidence.” Huang instinctively lowered his voice. It was an unnecessary precaution…there were few places on Earth as secure as Li An’s office. “They have requested that I bypass the Committee and issue a secret emergency order authorizing a military mobilization…” He stared into Li’s eyes as he spoke, and she could see the fear. “…of our Earth-based forces.”
Li An just stared back silently. She wasn’t surprised very often, but this was unexpected. Things were moving even more quickly than she’d anticipated. She felt a flush of anger too. If three Committee members were discussing something like this, she should have known. Her people had dropped the ball, and that was not something Li An tolerated. Someone’s head was going to roll, that much was certain.
“Mr. Chairman, you cannot…I mean I strongly recommend that you refuse such requests.” Li felt a wave of frustration and chided herself. She’d almost let her surprise get the better of her judgment. The CAC leader was a prideful man, one who would not react well to being told what he can and cannot do. “That would be a violation of the Treaty of Paris.” She was using a lifetime of discipline to maintain her calm demeanor. “If it is discovered by the Alliance or the PRC, they would almost certainly respond in kind. It could very well lead to open war on Earth.”
The Superpowers had adhered to the Treaty of Paris for over a century. The Unification Wars had come close…very close…to exterminating mankind, and the exhausted and terrified Powers had welcomed a chance to export their quarrels to space. The entrenched political and privileged classes that ran every Superpower muc
h preferred to keep the fighting lightyears away while they enjoyed the perquisites of their pampered lives. The very thought of risking total war on Earth once again seemed inconceivable. Clearly, though, it was not. Li had been concerned the crisis would spiral out of control, but this was even worse than she’d expected.
“I am, of course, aware of that, Minister Li.”
She tensed immediately. She could tell from his tone he was actually considering issuing the mobilization order. She almost interrupted, but she held her tongue. She wasn’t going to be careless twice. Huang had come as she had requested, but she was far from sure what his intentions were.
“No one appreciates the ramifications of risking open war on Earth more than I do.” He looked right at Li. “We are dealing with many uncertainties right now, but if the Alliance is indeed perpetrating some subterfuge, we may very well have no alternative.” He was clearly conflicted. Huang was no zealot who would launch the CAC into an insane war, but he wasn’t to be trifled with either. He wasn’t about to allow Washbalt to achieve dominance over Hong Kong, no matter what he had to do to prevent it. Even if that meant war on Earth.
“Of course I agree, Mr. Chairman.” He’s close to issuing the order, she thought…I have less time than I guessed. “However, we have very little evidence in all of this and much speculation. All we know for sure is that communications with Wolf 359 have been lost. And the Alliance claims that it is also unable to reach its people there.” Her voice was becoming hoarse, and she had to struggle to speak loudly enough. She could feel the growing weakness in her body. She didn’t have the stamina she once did, and protracted, emotional meetings wore her down.