The First Imperium cw-4 Page 7

  Hofstader held back a frown. He couldn’t stand Norgov, but Crandall was different. The Alliance scientist was unquestionably a genius, however choked by procedure and protocols his research might be. Norgov, on the other hand, was more politician than scientist. Hofstader didn’t think the Russian contributed anything of use to the research effort. “Dr. Crandall, I understand that you take a more deliberative approach than I often do.” He was trying hard to sound conciliatory. “But that is why it is even more imperative that we move with greater urgency…so we can collect the data needed to meet your criteria.”

  The Alliance scientist was about to respond, but Norgov spoke first. Crandall had an uncertain expression on his face, as if he was considering Hofstader’s words, but Norgov wore a scowl, and it was clear he had no interest in anything the German physicist had to say. “Dr, Crandall, Dr. Hofstader, your debate is tangential to the issue. The fact remains that a gross violation of the rules and a betrayal of trust has taken place.” He turned his head to look down the table at Crandall. “The time for discussing proper research protocols is past. This Committee has already done that and made its decisions.” His head moved back toward Hofstader, his eyes narrowed, face twisted into a disapproving frown. “Dr. Hofstader simply did not like the Committee’s decision, so he ignored it.”

  Hofstader sat still, angling his head slightly to pan his eyes down the Committee table. You’ve lost them all, he thought bitterly. Some of them just want to slap you on the wrist, but none of them will stand up to Norgov. Fools.

  Norgov continued, hardly taking a breath as he droned on. “I am personally astonished at the arrogance you have displayed in wantonly ignoring the directives of this Committee.”

  Hofstader sat quietly listening as Norgov continued. He wasn’t really paying attention; his mind had wandered to other things, leaving the Russian’s nasal voice a distant buzz in the background. As always, he was stunned how detached many researchers could be from reality. A lifetime in academia often created an inability to consider the real world implications of research. Hofstader had done some preliminary calculations on how much antimatter a planetwide factory could produce, and the results scared him to his core. His numbers were just short of a wild guess at this point, but he was confident they were at least reasonably close to accurate. The potential applications of so much energy were sobering…at least to anyone with the sense to consider them. The weaponry that could be created was terrifying.

  Norgov was still talking when Hofstader drifted back from his own thoughts. “This is the greatest international scientific project ever undertaken by mankind, and its success will depend on adherence to a properly enacted series of protocols, not intellectual anarchy.”

  Hofstader could feel the frustration turning to rage. He knew Norgov was a pompous windbag, and he’d girded himself to sit and quietly endure the asshole’s tirade. But there was a limit to what he could stand, and he’d reached it. His temper had often been a problem…he had very little patience for those he considered stupid or foolish. Now the anger bubbled out and he interrupted Norgov.

  “Dr. Norgov, excuse me for cutting short your unceasing prattle, but I’m afraid it’s the only way anyone else is likely to get a word in.” Norgov was glaring at him, silent for once, with an expression that looked like it could bore through a plasti-steel bulkhead. “I exercised some initiative and conducted a brief exploration of a section of the facility before it was officially open. I did not removed or disturb anything; I simply examined a length of tunnel.” He saw Norgov shift in his seat, and he raised his voice to forestall the Russian from interrupting him. “No harm was done, and I was able to substantially support my hypothesis. If you want to be a politician and a petty bully, why didn’t you do it somewhere else, and leave the research to those who crave knowledge.”

  Norgov sat in his chair silent, his expression apoplectic. Hofstader knew he shouldn’t have lost control of himself, but he really didn’t think it mattered. Norgov was determined to banish him from the research team anyway, so why not let the pompous ass have it with both barrels? Hofstader almost had to force back a little smile. I didn’t even come close to unleashing both barrels on the miserable little prick, he thought. Maybe later.

  “Dr. Hofstader, you have only reinforced the finding of this Committee that you are undisciplined and unwilling to work within the framework established for the safety and success of your colleagues.” Norgov’s voice was a little wobbly. He was so angry he could hardly sit still in his chair. “It is with the deepest regret that I must put forward a motion that you be expelled from the research team and that your occupancy visa be revoked immediately.”

  If there was any regret in the Russian’s voice, Hofstader couldn’t hear it. He felt another rush of anger, but he controlled it this time. There was no point in arguing. This was a kangaroo court, and nothing he said was going to matter. He leaned back in his chair, silent but with a defiant expression on his face. He watched and listened as Norgov called the role. The others looked uncomfortable, especially Crandall but, as Hofstader expected, none of them would cross Norgov. The vote was 6-0 for expulsion.

  Friederich Hofstader leaned back in his chair and looked one last time at the Committee members. Crandall and most of the others looked edgy and upset, and they tried to avert his gaze. But Norgov wore a big smile, and he stared right back at Hofstader.

  Hofstader leaned back in one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting area, Katrina sitting quietly across from him. He felt guilty about his assistant sharing his fate, and he’d tried mightily to get her exempted from the expulsion order and reassigned within the CEL team. He swore she was simply following his orders, and he thought for a while he’d convinced the Committee members, but Norgov intervened and quashed the whole thing. Hofstader was really starting to hate the Russian scientist. “One of these days, you spiteful piece of shit.” He whispered quietly to himself. “One of these days.”

  The shuttle was scheduled to board in twenty minutes. They’d be traveling back to Earth on the regular transport and supply ship. The trip would be fairly comfortable, as much as space travel ever was. The ship would be almost empty, so they’d have their choice of cabins. But Hofstader still couldn’t believe he was on his way back home. He’d spent thirty years studying antimatter, and he’d singlehandedly designed the most advanced trap for storing the precious and volatile material. No one on this planet – or Earth - knew as much about the subject as he did but, he thought bitterly, that didn’t seem to matter as much as petty bullshit and politics. Of course, these fools are too busy writing rules and regulations to worry about actually conducting research.

  The hatch slid open and Brad Travers ducked into the room. Travers had been with Hofstader and Katrina when they engaged in their controversial exploration, but he’d managed to keep himself out of the Committee’s crosshairs. Epsilon Eridani IV was under the joint jurisdiction of all the Powers, but it had been the Martian Confederation that seized it from the Alliance and invited in the other Powers. While the Martians didn’t retain any official preferential status, it would have been embarrassing for the Committee to take action against one of their scientists, so Travers’ involvement had been kept quiet. He’d tried to intervene for Hofstader as well, but all his efforts had been unsuccessful. He’d even sent a transmission to Roderick Vance, but he wouldn’t have a response until after Hofstader’s ship had departed. He was sure Vance would be upset. The head of the Martian Security Department wanted the best research team possible in place on Epsilon Eridani IV, and without Friederich Hofstader it was definitely not the best team.

  “Bradley…nice of you to drop by.” Hofstader was genuinely pleased to see the Martian scientist. “Come…” He pointed to the chair next to him. “…have a seat. They’re not very comfortable, I’m afraid.”

  Travers nodded and walked across the room. “Hello, Friederich.” He turned briefly and nodded to Hofstader’s young assistant. “Katrina.” She nodded back a
nd smiled sadly. Travers turned again and walked over to take the seat next to Hofstader.

  “You have something to say other than goodbye, my friend.” Hofstader was facing his visitor, speaking softly. “I can see it on your face.”

  “Friederich, just listen to me.” Travers was leaning close to Hofstader, speaking very softly. “There is something I discovered that I haven’t shared with anyone.” That wasn’t entirely true – he’d reported it to Roderick Vance, who had told him to keep it to himself until further notice. But he thought Hofstader should know, and he didn’t have time to get approval from Mars. “I was conducting a number of scans myself several weeks ago…all unauthorized, of course.”

  Hofstader smiled. He was glad that there was one other, at least, who had no time for the Committee and its endless debates. “Go ahead.” He was curious…he respected Travers and considered anything the Martian might have to say worth hearing.

  “Friederich…” Travers paused and swallowed before continuing. “…this facility is not entirely dead.” He paused, seeing the shocked expression form on Hofstader’s face. “I have detected energy readings on two separate occasions.”

  Hofstader gasped, but he quickly caught himself and forced a routine expression back onto his face. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, but there was no way to know if they were being watched, so he tried to hide his excitement. Travers was a reliable source, and Hofstader took his words at face value. “What kind of readings? Are you sure it wasn’t from our own equipment.”

  “Two brief pulses.” Travers was also trying to look normal, despite his own tension. If anyone was watching, he preferred they thought he was just saying goodbye to Hofstader. “Definitely not ours. It’s type of energy I’ve never seen before, which is why none of the other equipment picked it up. I was testing some experimental scanners designed to look for life signs. The scanner was a failed experiment, actually. A complete bust as far as detecting life forms. But it seems to pick up this type of energy.”

  Hofstader had a million questions, and trying to decide which to ask first had his head spinning. Travers reached over and dropped a data chip into his hand. “We don’t have time now, Friederich.” He was whispering, even more softly than before. “Every piece of data I have on the phenomenon is copied on this chip. Figuring out the source of this energy is more your area of expertise than mine.” Travers paused as Hofstader slipped the tiny data chip into his pocket. “I am trying to recalibrate my scanner to increase its sensitivity. I only detected the two pulses, but perhaps there are more readings – weaker ones I was unable to pick up.”

  Hofstader had been silent while Travers spoke. Now he looked at his friend and colleague, his eyes wide with amazement. “Brad, have you considered the implications of this?”

  Travers stared back, his eyes locked on Hofstader’s. “Oh yes. I understand. You need to look at that chip immediately.”

  Chapter 8

  Militia Training Grounds Just Outside New Sydney Adelaide Colony - HD 80606 VII

  “Ragged…very ragged. Let’s go; we’re going to do it again.” Cooper Brown stood atop a framework metal tower watching the militia below conduct their maneuvers. “We’re going to do this until you get it right.” Brown was speaking into a microphone that broadcast his voice across the muddy, rutted fields, now covered with khaki-uniformed men and women. He could have used the com, but he liked the style of the loudspeaker. He felt it amped up the pressure on the troops, and right now that’s what he wanted.

  Adelaide was a frontier world and, though settled less than twenty years before and located far out on the Rim, it was well populated. The planet was blessed with especially rich resources, and before victory in the Third Frontier War gained several choice Caliphate possessions, it was the only substantial source of certain very heavy elements in Alliance space.

  It was a barren world, scattered with small oasis-like patches where humans could eke out a fairly comfortable existence, but it was a paradise compared to the radioactive and toxic hells where stable trans-uranic substances were typically found. Its inhabitants were a hearty breed of adventurer, willing to brave the rugged conditions for the chance to build a fortune.

  Its settlers had come mostly from the Oceania state of the Alliance, primarily Australia, and they quickly built a prosperous and growing colony. Exports of the nearly priceless elements had already repaid all of the costs of colonization and allowed the residents to accelerate the growth of the plant’s infrastructure. Adelaide had a small orbital space station, half a dozen satellites, and a moderate spaceport in the capital of New Sydney. It was the wealthiest and most populous world in the sector, and its residents took considerable pride in that fact.

  The planet had a substantial militia as well, much larger and more powerful than typical for such a world…especially one located so far from any known enemies. Adelaide had become the destination of preference for Australian veterans mustering out of the Alliance forces and, during the purges following the end of the Third Frontier War, over 1,000 former Marines immigrated, including Major Cooper Brown.

  Brown was a veteran of the final battle on Carson’s World, where his battalion had continued its drive against the enemy despite 50% casualties and a critical lack of supplies. It had been a hard experience for the seasoned officer, who lost several old friends over those few days, and hundreds of his troops. When the downsizing came he took his benefits and retired, having decided he’d seen enough of war.

  Though he came to Adelaide determined to live a civilian’s life, he was a Marine deep in his soul. When the local government offered him a colonelcy and the command of the planetary militia, he accepted the post and gave up thoughts of becoming a miner. Leavened with so many discharged Marines, the Adelaide militia was formidable, far stronger than anything possessed by a comparable colony world.

  When the rebellions came, Adelaide quickly declared its own independence and put its militia in the field to defend it. But the federals never came. The planet was too remote, too far out, and the Alliance Gov forces were hard-pressed dealing with the inner colonies like Columbia and Arcadia. The few federal officials who’d been present were interned and, when shipping became available, sent back to Earth.

  Now Adelaide was part of the Colonial Confederation and, as such, it enjoyed a sort of quasi-independence. There were certain obligations to Alliance Gov, mostly in terms of tax payments and export quotas, and the navy and Marine Corps were responsible for its external defense. Otherwise, the inhabitants pretty much governed the planet’s affairs as they wished, which suited the sometimes-cantankerous expatriate Aussies just fine.

  The militia lost some of its best troops when the Corps put out the call for retired veterans to return to the colors. Brown himself considered an offer to come back to active duty as a colonel, but he still felt burnt out, and he decided to stay on Adelaide and continue commanding the local forces. He was still plying his trade, but the likelihood of serious battle seemed remote, and he decided that suited him just fine.

  Even with half its veterans returned to active Marine service, the militia was a solid organization, still well-provided with experienced combat troops. Except for Brown’s staff and a few small units, they were part-time soldiers, but the cadre’s proficiency and morale was high.

  He’d been working them hard ever since the first message came in on Commnet. The colony at Newton had been attacked by an unknown enemy and was presumed destroyed. Newton was much farther out on the frontier than Adelaide, but Brown had put the militia on alert anyway. Better safe than sorry and, in matters of war, much better to be needlessly prepared than caught unready.

  The subsequent communications vindicated Brown’s preparedness. Barrow was attacked and, a few weeks later, Wellington. Each colony had gone silent almost immediately after reporting approaching enemy ships. There had been no Alliance ships in Barrow’s system when that attack took place, but a freighter had been inbound to Wellington. It was able to transm
it scanning data showing the planet’s satellites and orbital facilities being destroyed before the vessel itself was targeted. The last transmission carried Delta-Z protocols.

  There was no longer any doubt…the Alliance was at war. The enemy was still unknown, though the general consensus was that one or more of the Powers had discovered a “backdoor” warp gate leading into the weakly defended Rim. Of greater concern was the apparent leap in weapons and propulsion technology. It was hard to project what would happen when an Alliance fleet engaged the enemy’s forces, but it was a good bet things would get ugly fast.

  Brown was more concerned with the enemy’s ground capabilities. He had no data at all about any planetside fighting, but his mind had filled in the blanks. He’d been working his troops hard…too hard, perhaps. But he had no idea what they would have to face, and he was sure they needed to be at 110%.

  “Back in line. We’re going to do this all night until you get it right.” Brown’s amplified voice ripped through the air, and the 1 st Regiment of the Adelaide Militia scrambled back into position in the deepening twilight.

  “We’re getting intel from the warp gate scanners, sir.” Lieutenant Khan didn’t take her eyes from the display as she reported. “We have ships inbound.”

  Captain Riley Calloway sat in his command chair rigid as a marble statue despite his repeated efforts to remain calm. Calloway knew his small squadron was a forlorn hope with little chance of survival. Admiral Garret hadn’t had a choice when he’d ordered them here; Calloway knew that. The admiral had sent him a personal note, and he pulled no punches in it, either about what was at stake or their chances of coming back. Augustus Garret did not send his men and women to their deaths lightly, and Calloway wasn’t about to let the admiral down. His ships would fight like hell, but their chances of victory or escape were nil. He knew that, and so did his crews. But he’d be damned if they were going to die for nothing. They had to get data back to the high command…much better data than they’d been getting up to now.