Future Shock, page 38
“Signal the fleet,” he ordered. The united command network was up again, but fragmented. It would have to suffice. “Group One is to remain in position to block any offensive from Diyang Prime. Group Two and all remaining starships are to form up on the flag and advance to cover John Birmingham.”
He gritted his teeth. There wasn’t much data on the alien starship in the files he’d been sent, but if the Zargana had rivalled the Federation their weapons technology had to be at least the equal of their human counterparts. And that meant their starship was likely to do immense damage to the contemporary fleet, if it opened fire from beyond their own range. If they had any FTL missiles left ... they didn’t need them. The energy weapons would be more than enough.
“Deploy all fighters,” he added. The tiny craft would be harder to hit. He hoped. “And open a link to the entire fleet.”
“Aye, sir.”
Hamish tapped his console. “All units, this is the flag. The Zargana have betrayed us” – in hindsight, part of his mind noted, it was quite possible they’d set the Chinese up for disaster – “and we have no choice but to stop them before they can destroy the fleet, perhaps even Earth itself. If we lose now, we lose everything.”
He took a breath. “All units, prepare to engage.”
Nimitz shivered as she accelerated, the rest of the fleet fanning out around the flagship. There was no hesitation now, save for the handful of stranded Chinese starships falling behind as the fleet picked up speed. The officers knew they had to stop the alien ship before it did something the human race wouldn’t survive ... Hamish had no idea how the aliens thought, but if he was in their shoes, he’d destroy the future ships, jump to the refuelling station and destroy the fleet train, then head straight to Earth and smash humanity’s homeworld from a safe distance. The slaughter would be unimaginable, giving the aliens a chance to take control of the wreckage or ... who knew what they were thinking? Boswell had talked about finding the Killer homeworld and removing the threat before it was too late ... the Zargana might have the same idea. Why not?
If I knew humanity was going to lose a war in the future, he thought grimly, and my ship was tossed back in time to a point I could eradicate the threat before they even knew there was a threat, I’d do it even if it meant my ship and crew would be erased from history itself.
“Lock mass drivers on target,” he ordered. God, he missed the FTL communications and sensor network. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d been spoiled until he’d lost it again. “Fire on my command.”
“Aye, sir,” Georges said.
Hamish nodded. The Zargana would see the mass-driver projectiles racing towards them, and they’d have plenty of time to evade or calculate point defence intercept solutions, but it would hopefully buy time for the future starship to repair itself or the contemporary fleet to get into energy weapons range. The more problems the aliens had to solve, the more chance he’d have of saving John Birmingham as well as his fleet. And then ...
He shivered. No matter what happened, the cost would be terrifyingly high.
***
“My Lord,” Y’Kentuck reported. “The contemporary humans have opened fire.”
Y’Opohan bared his teeth. The Chinese had clearly failed to convince their peers to stand aside and let them destroy the Federation ships. They’d failed in more ways than one ... he snorted in amused disgust, an emotion the humans didn’t seem to share. The contemporary humans were bright enough to realise their only hope of survival lay with John Birmingham and her crew, and determined enough to put their lives at risk to save her. It was almost a shame he was going to have to kill them, but the humans were just too adaptable to be enslaved. The alliance between the two human groups – one advanced enough to pose a major problem, one ruthless enough to take the technology and use it to slaughter their enemies like bugs – was one that needed to be destroyed before it was too late.
He leaned forward. John Birmingham was falling back, a tactic that bought them time to make repairs. The contemporary ships were spitting mass-driver projectiles at Vendetta, the ballistic weapons painfully slow as they crawled towards their targets ... the shields might be able to handle the impact, he thought, but there was no point in testing the theory. Better to shoot the projectiles down before it was too late. He’d destroy their launchers later ...
“My Lord,” D’Holin said. “The human fighters are entering attack range.”
“Take them out,” Y’Opohan ordered. The human ship had good shields, but she was a sitting duck. His energy weapons would tear her apart before she could hope to escape. “And open fire the moment we enter weapons range.”
***
Ethan felt despair howling at the back of his mind as Vendetta closed in for the kill. The heavy cruiser wasn’t launching any more FTL missiles – the analysts thought the Zargana had shot themselves dry – but they mounted enough energy weapons to batter down his shields and atomise his hull. The contemporary fighters were doing what they could, yet their weapons were nowhere near powerful enough to do more than irritate the Zargana. His ship could neither run nor win a close-range engagement with their opponent. He had to admire Y’Opohan’s cunning. He hadn’t just pinned them down. He’d ensured John Birmingham was in no state to give chase – in the unlikely event of her surviving – and probably guaranteed a major war between the various human powers. The Zargana would be able to walk in and take over.
“Sir,” Abad said. “They’ll be within firing range in one minute.”
“Signal to Dauntless,” Ethan ordered, harshly. “She is to jump out in one minute and head directly to Earth. The contemporary governments must know what happened here.”
“Aye, sir,” Abad said.
Ethan gritted his teeth. Captain Bukharin wouldn’t be happy at being ordered to run. But her ship was the only one that hadn’t taken heavy damage, giving her the only real chance of getting clear before it was too late. The rest of the squadron had stayed behind. They had to know what had happened too. And if they lost the engagement ...
He tapped his console. They didn’t have time to argue.
“Captain Bukharin, this is a direct order,” he said. “If you do not hear from us in two weeks, or either the contemporary governments or the Zargana make any attempt to seize the remaining ships, you are to declare yourself squadron commander, load the rest of our people onto the ships and jump as far as you can before setting up a new colony. Make sure something of the Federation survives. That is a direct order. Good luck.”
There was no answer. He hadn’t expected one.
Abad muttered an oath under his breath. “The enemy are preparing to fire.”
Ethan braced himself. It would all be over soon.
***
“We need to close the range,” Hamish snapped. The mass drivers had been as ineffective as he’d feared. “All ships, prepare for microjump.”
“Sir?” Georges glanced up, shocked. “Sir, the risk of ...”
“Do it.” Hamish cut him off. He knew the risks, knew he’d be second-guessed from the moment the report reached Earth till the end of time, but he knew his duty. He had to take the risk. The responsibility was his, and his alone.“All ships, prepare for microjump!”
He paused, waiting for the order to filter through the command network. “Jump!”
***
“My Lord,” Y’Kentuck said. “The humans ...”
Y’Opohan snarled a curse as the human starships microjumped into point-blank range, their weapons already seeking him out. There’d been a few seconds of warning ... not enough, not by any reasonable standard, for them to do anything to keep the humans from their final desperate ploy. It had worked too, he noted bitterly; the humans would lose hundreds of ships to his superior weapons, but in the end Vendetta would be destroyed by sheer weight of numbers.
“My Lord,” D’Holin said. “We have already won the battle.”
Y’Opohan snarled, again. What did a fool female know of winning battles? John Birmingham was crippled, the rest of the Federation Navy starships weren’t in much better shape, but they had to be destroyed. The contemporary humans might even win ...
“Explain,” he snapped.
“John Birmingham is already crippled,” D’Holin said. She bent into a posture of absolute submission, a junior pleading with her superior to listen without hinting, even slightly, that she felt anything other than utmost respect for him. “She can no longer chase us. If we keep fighting now, we may lose everything. The homeworld will not be warned of the human threat.”
Y’Opohan glowered at her, but he had to admit she had a point. The contemporary humans couldn’t give chase, and none of the surviving jump-capable Federation Navy starships were remotely capable of destroying Vendetta if they caught her. He had already won ... and even if the victory wasn’t complete, thanks to his faltering human allies, it was enough to buy him the time he needed. The victory was his. He had no intention of throwing it away.
We’ll be back, he silently promised the humans. The Empire will learn from the future too and avoid the mistakes of the past. And the next war will be fought on our terms.
“Helm, jump us out,” he ordered, finally. It was a victory. His victory. “And then set course for home.”
Chapter Forty: Diyang Prime, 2308
The interrogation chamber was crude, little more than a pair of chairs, a table, and a single very obvious camera positioned to the side, a grim reminder that everything that transpired within the compartment would be recorded and the recording handed over to the investigators who’d assess the situation and determine what would happen next. Captain Cao Zongying sat on one side of the chamber, his hands manacled to the table. He looked as if he’d been pushed so far that he was no longer capable of thinking or feeling, no longer able to do anything other than wait to hear his fate. His crews had been captured, save for the security troops. They’d fought to the death, when their ships had been boarded, and then killed themselves to avoid capture. Two had taken an entire starship with them.
And now we have to decide what to do next, Hamish thought. He studied the live image from the chamber. Cao had been a friend, Hamish had thought, and yet Cao had stabbed the entire human race in the back. What do we do with them?
Cassidy glanced up at him. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“I don’t know,” Hamish admitted. Strictly speaking, Cassidy shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the holding cell, but he wanted to make sure the various governments couldn’t cover the whole affair up. The post-battle discussions had been vicious, with accusations and charges of collaboration being hurled around freely. They were lucky the fleet was so far from home. They still had to work together or die separately. “I wish I knew.”
He paused. “Stay here.”
The airlock opened at his touch, allowing him to step into the chamber. Cao looked up as he entered, but otherwise showed no reaction to his arrival. Hamish stared at his former friend for a long moment, a dozen different ideas running through his mind. He could shoot the man or beat him to death or give him a pistol with one bullet so he could take his own life, rather than stand trial. The vindictive urge to make the man suffer contrasted oddly with his need to find out what had happened, to understand the motive behind the senseless attack. They had to know if it was going to happen again.
And just how badly compromised the Chinese Government truly is, he thought, as he took a seat on the nearside of the table. If they’re completely under alien control ...
He leaned forward. “Why?”
Cao gave a hint of a shrug. “Orders are orders.”
“That’s not good enough and you know it.” Hamish couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Why?”
“They told me it was the only chance to save China from the future,” Cao said, finally. “That ... if we failed, China would be humiliated again and again until there was nothing left of us.”
“And so you attacked our allies in the middle of a full-scale engagement,” Hamish said. “Make it make sense. Please!”
Cao looked up. “You know as well as I do what happens to a primitive society when a more advanced one arrives,” he said, flatly. “The future people may be kind and friendly, and willing to help us win a war, but their arrival will damage our society beyond repair.”
“So I keep hearing,” Hamish said, sharply. “Does that justify your betrayal?”
“We had to try,” Cao said. His voice dripped bitterness. “Blame everything on me, if you like.”
“Why?” Hamish frowned as understanding hit. “They have your family, don’t they?”
“And everyone else’s family,” Cao confirmed. “Elderly parents, husbands and wives, sons and daughters ... all held in custody, to ensure the mission was completed without a hitch. Except we failed and now ...”
“Your government trusted aliens to assist you,” Hamish said. Just what had happened between the Chinese Government and the Zargana? The aliens had clearly given the Chinese insight into weapons that could be turned on the future starships ... they wouldn’t have done that unless they were sure the Chinese would do as they were told. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t involved in the discussions,” Cao said. “But from what I was told, they wanted to preserve what they could and now ...”
“You failed,” Hamish said. He felt a stab of sympathy. The United States of America had fallen far, in so many ways, but at least it wouldn’t execute his entire family if he screwed up. No wonder Cao had gone through with the mission, even though he had to know it was suicide. His family would be murdered if he didn’t. “I won’t insult your intelligence by claiming I’m sorry.”
Cao smiled, humourlessly. “I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending to believe it.”
He leaned back in his chair, pulling the manacles tight. “What now?”
“God knows,” Hamish said. “That’s well above my pay grade.”
He scowled at the metal table. The governments would be pissed at the Chinese, both for the attempted stab in the back and because they’d given an alien threat a chance to attack the human race. The Zargana of this era might be primitive by Federation standards, yet they were still tough enough to crush the contemporary navies. They’d need to overcome the problems of getting their fleet to Earth, he supposed, but that wouldn’t be too difficult. They’d have the assistance of Vendetta and her crew.
God damn it, he thought. We told Boswell he should have interned the fucking ship and her crew!
He shook his head. The Chinese might talk their way out of it, somehow, or there might be a war ... or there might be something, anything, in-between. Who knew how the governments would react? The future folk were another matter ... how would they react? Their ships had been damaged, their people had been killed ... Hamish knew he wouldn’t take that lightly, and Boswell would probably feel the same way. It was all a terrible, ghastly mess.
“You’ll remain in custody, for the moment,” he told Cao. “We’ll make sure your government knows you did your best. Hopefully ...”
Cao shot him a sharp look. Hamish scowled – the man was right to be sceptical – and stood, leaving the Chinese officer behind. He’d be returned to the brig shortly, kept apart from the rest of his crew ... and when they returned to Earth, the governments would decide what to do with them. Perhaps something could be done for their families, in exchange for the governments letting the Chinese evade blame for the disaster. Or perhaps not.
“Poor bastard,” Cassidy said, as he rejoined her. “What now?”
“Now?” Hamish shrugged. “We go home. And deal with the nightmare to come.”
He let her take his hand as they slipped away. The only good thing about the whole affair was that they had a treaty with the Diyang, if a somewhat one-sided one. The Diyang wouldn’t be permitted any military presence in space, and their government would be held to account for crimes against humanity, but otherwise they’d be left in peace. There would be no occupation, no attempt to restructure their society. The xenospecialists believed the shock of the defeat – and the encounter with the Zargana – would do the work for them, as the Diyang struggled to come to terms with what had happened. Hamish hoped they were right. The Diyang had been dangerously inventive. If they had a few years to prepare for the next conflict, the outcome might be very different.
Assuming any of us are still alive in the next few years, he reflected. His other self had died at ninety-four. Hamish drew hope from it, even as he knew nothing was guaranteed. History has changed. There’s no reason it cannot be changed again.
And the Zargana know it.
***
Ethan lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
The repair crews had done their best, but it would be a week or more before John Birmingham was capable of FTL again. The destroyers would have to tow her back to Earth, where they could draw spare parts from the colony ship and its machine shops, giving the Zargana plenty of time to make their escape. He had wondered if they were prowling around the system, waiting for a chance to strike again, but there hadn’t been a single hint of their presence on active or passive sensors. No, it was wishful thinking. Vendetta was well on her way to the Zargana homeworld by now, and there was nothing to be gained by thinking otherwise.
“I fucked up,” he admitted. “I trusted them not to be stupid.”
Rachel materialised beside him. “You couldn’t have predicted such ... insanity.”
“The contemporary governments wanted to intern them,” Ethan reminded her. “I should have listened.”
He shook his head. What was Y’Opohan thinking? Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven? It was madness. Even the highest castes of this era had miserable lives, compared to the lowest castes of the future, and there would be little room for a shipload of reformists, freethinkers and sexual perverts. The contemporary empire would probably seize the ship and interrogate the crew ... he shuddered, then frowned. Y’Opohan had manipulated the Chinese Government and done so very effectively, suggesting he was a past master of the art. For all Ethan knew, he could manipulate his own government just as well.
