Read The Universe — or Nothing Page 27


  Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

  Brad leaned back in his chair both hands pressedagainst the table's edge, arms straight.

  "Your governments have agreed to a united frontagainst the UIPS, otherwise you wouldn't be here.Your Heads of State sent you. We're military men,not politicians or clever diplomats. What does thattell you?"

  Silence.

  "Then I'll say it. We're here to plan a militaryaction. That's what we do. The decision on whetherthe plan is implemented is up to INOR politiciansand diplomats. That's how they earn their keep. Thetarget has been made known to you. Our immediatetask is to assess the forces we will have availableand operational to do the job. For that I need toknow your capabilities, now and for the time theywill be committed to the combined operations.Let's start with the Jovian System."

  Brad fixed his eyes on Captain Yargoul.

  Time stretched, no one moved. Finally, at a nodfrom Captain Yargoul, a gaunt spacer seated behindhim reached into a pocket, withdrew a capsule andtossed it toward the front. It floated gracefullyat Zolan in the light gravity. Zolan caught thecapsule, turned, inserted it into a slot at thebase of the tank and pressed a key on the rod.

  The tank shimmered, cleared, and in rapidsuccession flashed images of battle cruisers,destroyers and support ships. Data unreeledacross the lower section of the tank, listingship's armament and ship's readiness rating.

  The recording completed, Zolan withdrew the capsuleand returned it in the same manner as received.Another floated toward him, preceded by a growl"Titan." The routine repeated, and within a shorttime, the major INOR platforms and weapons fora combined assault on the Logistics Depot hadbeen recorded and rated for readiness.

  When the last capsule had cleared the tank Zolan'sfingers raced across the console's keypad and thescreen recapped the inputs. The Logistics Depotreappeared high up in the tank wrapped in itsprotective cocoon, and lines of transports loadingand off-loading cargoes or waiting their turns.

  The scene contracted, and the vacated space filledwith numbers and codes representing the few UIPSrecon-patrollers in the Plutonian sector followedby a tabulation of INOR's combined assault fleet.The computer presented INOR's combined fleet'sOrder of Battle, and stabilized.

  The assembled commanders, master strategistsand tacticians all, pointed, commented, and proposedoptions on the employment of ships, formationsand weapons. Zolan keyed their suggestions intothe computer and the results appeared in the tank.Finally, there were no further options. Brad nodded.

  "Mark it and distribute a copy to each Commanderpresent," he said, and turned back to survey thegroup around the table. He waited.

  Captain Yargoul cut the brief silence.

  "What we have, so far, is a textbook tacticaldisposition of forces around a theoreticalobjective. The reality will depend on the strategicplan for the operation and what we expect willcome out of it. When do we get to that?"

  Brad grinned.

  "That will be made known to you at the appropriatetime."

  ##

  Brad and Zolan walked silently down the ramp fromthe Condor and boarded the outbound strip. Skirtingknots of commuters they faced outward in amomentarily vacant slot for two along the edge ofthe fast moving lane. Opportune and random, thelocation was as secure as any from eavesdropping.

  "I briefed Narval an hour ago," said Brad. "He'scertain that he can get the INOR leaders to joinfor a healthy share in the prize. I've been orderedto plan for a combined operation to take the depot."

  "When?"

  "He's sitting on that. What he wants from menow is to portray an integrated assault by INORcombined forces from a point halfway betweenthe depot and the Slingshot construction site.I'm to work out the details and keep each elementon a timeline from launch to full military controlof the objective."

  "Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

  "Talk to me."

  "Setting the launch point against the depotfrom a couple of million kay outbound from thePlutonian orbit doesn't make sense. It's especiallysuspicious when you consider that the INOR forceswill be coming from sunside of Pluto and thereforesunside of the depot -- the presumed target lessthan a half million kay from here. Why not havethe fleet rendezvous closer to the target?"

  "My question, precisely."

  "How do you see it?"

  "I'm not sure yet. Narval did say to crank indiversionary tactics that would draw the Terminals'defensive forces away from their normal ops zone."

  "That's weird."

  "Agreed. He's setting it up this way to maximizehis options, he says. The final decision, he said,needn't be made until the final moments. Confusethe enemy and all that."

  "Are you saying the same plan can be used againstthe Terminals?"

  "Absolutely. Oh, a few formation and tacticalswitches but they can be made in the field asthe fleet switches targets."

  "Would it work?"

  "A bit of delay, but I'm sure it would. But atwhichever target Narval's final order sends thefleet, the results would be a disaster for theUIPS. The real target's spunnel lines will crash,destabilization will disrupt the entire Slingshotconstruction schedule. We'll have lost the launchwindow."

  More commuters swung aboard the strip andcrowded their space. Brad and Zolan eyed them;time to split.

  "What now?", Zolan asked.

  "Not much choice." Brad replied in a whisper. "Usethe depot spunnel facility to get word to Ram.Don't take any nonsense about getting to Hanno.Once you're through to him, you shouldn't havean access problem. So get to the depot, shoot theburst, and get back here without being spotted."

  "The message?"

  "Narval's instructions to me. Everything we learnedat the meeting off Neptune, especially the Order ofBattle capsule with the options on formations forthe combined fleet. List the types of weapons andwarheads installed on each INOR ship of the lineand the coordinates for rendezvous and launchat the depot as the target.

  "That'll get them as suspicious as we are. Crankin what the coordinates might be if Narval makeslast minute switches. Point Icarus is the designatedcode name for the INOR rendezvous. Include that.Tell Ram I said to get his fighting folks off theirbutts and earn their keep."

  Brad shifted, stepped over to a slower lane, andfrom there off the strip. He disappeared amongthe pedestrians. Zolan remained where he was fora distance, disembarked and strolled about nearan air lock as he mind-impressed his message ona comm capsule.

  Colonel Hanno will be surprised, Zolan musedas he pushed his way into the suiting-up room.Contemplating his mission, it might take a bit oftime for Hanno to respond and track the code,interpret the instructions, and acknowledge whatthey required of him. He would need to push Hannohard.

  He selected and checked a suit for fit, freshfluids, air and communications. Climbing in andclosing up, he stepped under a helmet rack, drew itdown, rotated mating surfaces, closed and lockedthe seals. The automatic self-test devices hummedpressure checks, and indicators glowed as thelife support systems balanced internally. The suitinflated, held for several seconds, and subsided tonormal. A tiny light above the inside visor glowedgreen to show status as ready.

  Passing through the outer air lock Zolan turnedtoward a line of flitters. A guard watched himapproach, rifle held casually across his chest.

  "OK," said the guard when Zolan was within fivemeters. "Hold it there. What's on your mind?"

  "Name's Zolan. I need a long range flitter for ahop into the outback."

  "Let's see your authorization."

  "What authorization?"

  The guard's head wagged in his helmet.

  "Y'gotta have authorization for a distantdestination, buddy. That's orders. Otherwise,take a taxi."

  "Orders, hell," Zolan growled. "I can't get where Ihave to go using a taxi. I can't do my work with yousecurity types puttin' the chocks to me for 'orders'each time I need to check a work site." His tonebecame scathing. "Get your superior on-line andtell him my name and what I want. If he has anyquestions, tell him to check with Brad Curtin onPresident
Narval's staff. C'mon now. Move, man,move."

  The guard's manner changed with the name-dropping.

  "Yes sir," he said. "Right away, sir."

  Zolan's comm contact with the guard went on holdas the guard switched to another line. Ignoring theguard, Zolan surveyed several nearby utilities.

  Moments later his line with the guard reopened.The guard's voice was deferential.

  "Clearance received, sir," he said. "Got a realgood single-seater here for you. Just came outof the maintenance shops. All systems have beenchecked and she's ready to go. Shall I warm herup and crank in the coordinates for you, sir?"

  "That's OK," Zolan replied, "I'll do the set upsmyself. I've got several places to visit and wantto work out the trip on the box so I don't wasteany more time. Which bird?"

  "Follow me, sir."

  Moving along the line the guard stopped at alow-slung framework from which a crude cage hungsuspended, held in position by braces angling infrom connecting structures. Behind the cage,halfway along a shaft running aft, hung a tinynuclear power plant. Nozzles of cone-shapedpropulsion units on gimbals hung in neutral.That would change as soon as Zolan inserted hiscoordinates and activated the thrusters.

  "Here she is, sir," the guard exclaimed, proudly,offering Zolan a checklist. "All yours."

  "Right," Zolan grunted. Shifting his eyescritically from the checklist to flitter and back,he walked around the tiny flyer inspecting thespars for alignment and cracks. Moving to thepower plant he examined the reactor's coverand seals for seepage and the thruster nozzles andgimbals for cracks and wear. Finally, satisfied afterscrutinizing the instrument panel, he stepped back,initialed the checklist and handed it to the guard.

  "Looks OK on the outside," he said. "I'll check outthe warm up. If it cooks OK, I'm out of your way."

  He squeezed into the cage, set and activated thereactor. Observing the power levels rise on thegauges, his fingers stroked the flitter's keysand levers. He tapped his coordinates into thenav-comp as the plant warmed.

  The guard moved closer.

  "Know how to set her? Maybe I can help, sir."

  He stuck his head into the crowded space andwatched the computer screen flip through thecoordinates that Zolan inserted. The screenstabilized and reflected a series of vectors.The guard studied them. Zolan ignored him.

  Zolan adjusted the torso belts and recheckedthe reactor and weight-and-balance indicators.He heaved a heavy sigh.

  "Well, time to hit the road," he said. "Stand back,man, I'm taking her up."

  The guard stepped back and saluted. Zolan movedthe power lever and directional controls. Theframework and cage quivered and the flitter liftedup and away.

  Looking down, Zolan saw the guard bending backward,watching his direction of flight.

  "Hope he got them all down right," he thought as heentered new data into the computer.