Escape 2: Fight the Aliens (11 page)

Wide-shouldered Frank gave him a big grin. “Weapons Chief, we understand all that. Nice to hear America has some allies in this fight. But why are you standing there like a dummy? We’re ready to board.”

Bill kept forgetting how well his saloon buddies knew him, knew his moods and knew his body language. They still understood him even after him being way for nine months. And they’d honored his request to assemble at the saloon, then had volunteered for this wild-hair space adventure. He grinned back. “Cause I damn well wish I was
going
with you guys!” That drew understanding looks from all of them, including the MacDill people. “But I gotta man the weapons of this tub and serve as a distraction so the Collector ship crews will be more focused on our fleet than on the returning pods. I’m expecting them to do the routine—send a single crewperson down to collect the knocked senseless human from each pod that arrives. One alert crewperson versus a disabled human. Your greeter may carry a taser. No matter. You fire first!”

Jake nodded. “Of course we will, Weapons Chief. And we will sweet-talk the ship mind just the way you taught us. Now?”

Bill nodded. “Go ahead. Board your pods. Be prepared for a wait onboard, though. This ship and the rest of the fleet will likely launch missiles against the Collector ships. They expect us to fight them again. We will oblige.”

Sandy-haired Alicia looked his way as she became the last to board her pod, where it sat on the lowest tier of the three-tier rack that held the ship’s 24 collector pods. “Boss, don’t worry about us. You go play with your lasers.”

“I will. And everyone,” he said, knowing even those now sealed into pods could hear him over their vacsuit comlinks. “Remember we expect progress reports from each of you! Let us know when you’ve taken out the greeter Alien. And for sure let us know if you encounter any nasty surprises. The
Minnesota
has offered to come to your aid with sub security folks . . . if we can suppress the counterfire of whatever ship you are on.”

Alicia waved and said nothing. Her tall, slim form disappeared into the dark cargohold of a collector pod. The white hatch closed behind her, turning her pod into the white teardrop that was so aerodynamically perfect for flying through a world with dense air. Bill looked up at the chamber’s high ceiling.

“Star Traveler, thanks for opening the hatches. And . . . keep them safe as you can.”

“I will do as you wish,” the AI hummed low in a tone he thought sounded sympathetic. “When we launch these pods, I will make certain they head to their target ship as part of a group of returning pods. You call it camouflage.”

“I do,” Bill said as he turned, shrugged to loosen the fit on his vacsuit of his backpack, then entered the chamber’s airlock and headed for the exit door to the right side main hallway. He pointed a red cube at the door. It slid open faster than he could blink. He hoped Jane had been watching the volunteers enter their pods. She and Richardson and the entire crew had heard everything said here, thanks to the vacsuit comlinks being linked to the
Blue Sky’s
ship comlink. “And tell your fellow ship minds that my people are coming to free them from being slaves to bioforms who think nothing of treating thinking people as if they were property. To do with as they wish, with no consideration of a lifeform’s wishes.”

His helmet speaker hummed. “I have already conveyed this mission purpose to my fellow ship minds,” the AI said, his tone patient. “They understand. They will allow our pods entry to their ships. They will report our pod arrival as one of their own pods returning with a captive human. And they will cooperate in the human effort to take control of their ship’s Command Bridge as much as they can. They too have feelings.”

Bill knew that. It was his awareness of how people-like the ship minds really were that made him think Jane’s plan would work. Now, time to head for his weapons station. They had to fight against the arriving Collector ships as if their small fleet were the only defense against the Alien effort to force humanity out of space and back to the land. A seclusion that he suspected would be maintained far into the future by other Collector ships that came calling for human captives.

♦   ♦   ♦

The six Collector ships arrived in Earth orbit just above the island of Hawaii, with the blue expanse of the Pacific stretching far below them. Bill knew this thanks to the spysats they had earlier seeded into geosync orbit. His ship the
Blue Sky
, the two subs and the two transports were station-keeping at 200 miles above Nova Scotia, which was low enough to keep them out of direct line of sight of the Collector ships holding station above Hawaii. Each ship’s Magfield engines would maintain them in low orbit above the island chain. He looked to his left. Richardson, wearing a vacsuit and clear helmet like Bill and everyone else on the bridge, gave him a thumbs-up.

“The
Minnesota
and the
Louisiana
report they are fully operational,” the stocky man said. “They are missile launch ready and they have nearly full loads of Harpoons, ASROCs and SUBROCs ready to launch as needed,” he said. The man’s short brown hair looked perfectly combed under the glimmer of his helmet.

Bill nodded back. The admiral’s perfect appearance was something that rubbed him the wrong way. He’d trimmed his overgrown beard before heading down to see his saloon buddies, and he kept himself clean and fit. His clothes were never grungy, thanks to the habitat room’s automated cleaner device. Still, he felt scruffy while sitting next to the Chief of Naval Operations. “Vice admiral, thank you. They performed well out past the Moon. Now comes more complicated operations. Captain?”

Jane looked his way. In the comlink holo on his right side she looked nearly as well-trimmed as the CNO. Her shoulder-length black hair was tied back with a red band. Tall, slim and nicely curvy, with sun-tanned arms, her blue camo ABU looked as if it had come fresh from a laundromat steam pressor. The long fingers of her right hand danced atop the Library pillar that lay on the right side of her command seat. She fixed dark brown eyes on him, her expression business-like but not formal. “Yes, Weapons Chief?”

He gestured at the true space holo on his upper right. “The spysats say the Collector ships are strung out in a line, not clustered. All orbit at 250 miles up. The tail-end Charlie ship is last in line but it does seem operational. Although its station-keeping is a bit jerky, compared to the other ships. All Collectors are holding fixed above Hawaii by use of their Magfield drives. As we do here above Nova Scotia.” He saw a dozen green flares in the holo that showed a live image of the six Collector ships. “They’ve just knocked out the ISS station and the Russian station.” The green flares repeated, then repeated again and again. “Plus they’ve laser-killed a dozen of our GPS satellites, our SBSS pathfinder sat, half the Iridium sats, several polar orbit sats, the Hubble scope and half of China’s
Beidou
comsat network. Our geosync stuff is intact, for the moment.” More green flares showed. “They just killed a Russian
Typhoon
sub that launched ICBMs at them.” He moved a hand to above his Ship Weapons fire control pillar. “When do we attack?”

“Not quite yet,” she said. “I promised to call General Poindexter once we arrived in orbit. To coordinate with her and to learn what the American and other forces are doing.”

“Weapons Chief,” called Richardson. “We
do
have allies in this fight. It’s no longer just the
Blue Sky
and your transports against every nasty Alien.”

Bill bit his lip to forestall a hasty reply. “Vice admiral, I do understand that. And I saw those allies risk their lives in the Moon battle. I’m just . . . I just want to do
something
rather than sit and wait.”

“Bill,” called Jane, her tone sympathetic. “None of us like to wait. Anyone who is active duty wants to act, not wait. But fighting smart involves tactical waits in order to achieve our strategic purpose. Which involves me coordinating with the JCS.” In the comlink holo she looked up. “Star Traveler, establish a neutrino comlink with Peterson. Signal the call is for General Poindexter.”

“Complying,” the AI hummed low. “Link established.”

The comlink holo on Bill’s right filled with the image of the Air Force chief of staff and four star general. The woman’s black face showed worry. “Captain Yamaguchi, thank you for the neutrino comlink sharing of your battle out by the Moon. Was good to see our subs doing their share.” The woman sat at the same video display table where previously she and the other chiefs had talked with Jane. Behind and to either side of her, Bill saw the moving forms of staff airmen. Four of the JCS chiefs sat nearby at other display tables. Poindexter gestured aside. “Chairman McAuley is in DC with the President. Everyone else is coordinating with our forces in the field. What are your plans? Beyond the Stage Two infiltration of collector pods into the Collector ships.”

Jane sat stiffly upright in her seat, her manner command formal. “General, I report our Moon battle achieved engine damage to one Collector ship and minor hull damage to two other Collector ships. At present, we orbit above Nova Scotia. From this point we will launch our collector pods once we see the Collectors launching their pods. Before that happens, we will attack them! While I doubt any missile of ours will be able to take out a Collector ship, still, they
are
the enemy. They are attacking American space assets. And the Aliens expect us to make another attack on them.” She grinned wolfishly. “I plan to accommodate them.”

Poindexter’s black eyelashes whisked down then up. “That means multiple thermonuke explosions in low Earth orbit, yes?”

“It does,” Jane said. “Thermonukes, lasers and our antimatter projector are the only weapons capable of harming, or even bothering, the Collector ships.”

“Understood,” the woman said, turning to a male aid and whispering in his ear. She turned back to face Jane. “Captain Poindexter, I’ve given orders to use the Emergency Alert system to advise citizens to expect bright fireballs in the sky. They will be assured that no fallout will reach ground level. Is that correct?”

“That is correct,” Jane said, not looking his way. They had discussed this series of tactical nuke attacks right after waking up. “Fallout requires dirt and air to contaminate. There is none of that in Earth orbit. And the neutrons and x-rays produced by such blasts are buffered by our atmosphere. The American populace can be assured we will only use non-nuclear munitions for any attack within atmosphere.”

The black woman nodded abruptly. “So I assumed from our prior consults. Good fortune on your distraction attack. And may your boarding pods find success!”

“General, thank you,” Jane said. She looked at Bill. “Weapons Chief, you may—”

“One moment!” interrupted Poindexter as two airmen rushed to her side, offering her smartphones. The woman looked at the phones, then to the desktop display screen. She gave a deep sigh and looked up. “We’ve had our first losses. We just lost the
USS Carl Vinson
and the
USS Theodore Roosevelt
supercarriers to green beams fired by something above them. They were patrolling off of Hawaii. Both ships had launched F-16s armed with Pegasus ASAT missiles. Those planes fired their Pegasus missiles at four of the Collector ships.” She looked down, then up. “The missiles were destroyed before they reached orbit. Clearly the planes were backtracked to the carriers. Captain, you are ordered to use all means at your disposal to defend America!”

Jane almost saluted the Air Force general. Instead, she slapped her chest with her open right hand. “General, we will fight! I will advise you when we launch the pods. And I will have our ship AI downlink you a continuous feed of our combat actions.” She looked Bill’s way, her expression intense. “Executive Officer and Weapons Chief, what counterattack do you recommend?”

At last
. “Overwhelming missile launches of thermonukes!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jane blinked, then nodded. “Carry it out. Now.”

Bill tapped the Fire Control action points atop his Weapons control pillar. “I’m launching six MITV torps on a polar arc toward the Collector ships. That makes 30 thermonuke warheads that will independently seek their targets. As you know, they have guidance mobility in space.” He looked over at Richardson. “Vice admiral, the warheads within our Hunter-Killer torps are true Fire-and-Forget weapons. Their sensors track targets in UV, infrared, far infrared and by active pulsed compression radar. I’ve never seen them miss a target.”

“Impressive,” the CNO said, looking at his own system graphic holo which now showed the six torps ejecting their warheads. “How many torps are left on this ship?”

“Four,” Bill said calmly as he watched the same warhead separation. “Our normal load is 14 torps. We fired four torps in the Moon battle to help create the mine field. That left us ten torps in the launch room below us. Six of those are now gone.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Star Traveler, get your robots in the Factory Chamber to work on building new torps ASAP!”

“Complying,” the AI said in a tone that sounded smug. “Your battle efforts were anticipated by me. Six torpedoes are even now being fitted with new thermonuclear warheads. They will be available for launch within eleven minutes.”

“Good.” Bill looked aside to the CNO. “Vice admiral, instruct the
Louisiana
to fire 22 of her remaining 23 Trident missiles. Half will take a western equatorial track and half will take an eastern equatorial track. At 12 warheads per missile, that makes for 264 W88 warheads arriving at the same time as my MITV warheads. Please have the
Louisiana
activate the magnetic field proximity sensors on each warhead.”

The CNO tapped his liaison comlink on top of his control pillar and spoke. “Captain Baraka, launch 22 of your Tridents at the coordinates I’m sending you now.” The man who had once commanded an aircraft supercarrier seemed happy to be acting. “All warheads will go sensor active upon emergence from the third stage’s aeroshell.”

“Tridents launching,” the boomer’s captain said, his tone sounding pleased.

Richardson looked at Bill. “Weapons Chief, any orders for the
Minnesota
?”

“Yes.” Bill watched his system graphic, counting the Trident launches from the giant boomer sub. It seemed the sub was alternating launch tubes to avoid having two missiles go out from adjacent silos.
Nice
. The fast attack sub lay 300 miles to the left of the
Blue Sky
. “Vice admiral, have the
Minnesota
fire ten of her remaining eleven Standard 2 missiles on a south pole trajectory, targeted at the six Collector ships. The Standards are also fitted with magnetic field proximity sensors, yes?”

“They are,” the CNO said quickly. He spoke to his liaison comlink. “Captain Leonard, let her rip. Ten Standards on a south pole vector, sensors activated after warhead separation from the missile.”

“Launching,” came the gravelly voice of the attack sub captain.

Richardson looked his way. “All subs have launched missiles as ordered.”

“Good.” Bill looked over his shoulder to Jane, who was watching attentively. “Captain, America’s first retaliatory strike has been launched against the Collector ships.”

She nodded slowly, one eyebrow lifting. “What about our transports? They have a fair number of MITV torps left after the Moon battle.”

Bill nodded back. “You are correct. I’m saving their torps for defense of this fleet, in case one or more Collector ships comes hunting us. They are good fighters, as you know. If we are attacked, I will send the subs off to L4. We and the transports can put up a good fight.”

She frowned. “That we can. What is the timing of these warhead arrivals? Simultaneous or staggered?”

“Mostly simultaneous,” Bill said, tapping his Ship Weapons Fire Control panel to send Jane a graph showing estimated times to impact. “The south polar Standards will arrive a few minutes after the other warheads. But we will hit those Collectors with nearly 300 thermonuclear warheads! Those ships are armed with four lasers each, for a total of 24 lasers firing at any one time. They will take out a lot of the warheads. But I expect a dozen or more of our warheads to get close enough to go to proximity detonation. Like what happened with the tail-end Charlie ship out past the Moon.”

“What?” called Richardson as a voice spoke to him from his control pillar’s comlink. “You should have told me that earlier. But it’s good news.” The man looked to Bill. “Weapons Chief, Captain Baraka advises me that one of their Trident missiles is fitted with x-ray laser thermonukes. They are upgraded designs from the old Project Excaliber of last century. That makes for 12 standoff weapons that will use their thermonuke blasts to create coherent streams of x-rays. I believe you said the hulls of Collector ships could not deflect x-rays. Is that correct?”

“It is correct,” the ship’s AI hummed quickly. “Our hull has the ability to cause most electromagnetic radiation and emissions to wrap around this hull, which is why we are invisible to normal light, infrared, UV and other sensors. But x-rays, gamma rays and cosmic rays are too powerful for our hull to warp around us.”

Bill liked what he was hearing. “Vice admiral, that is outstanding! Uh, does the
Louisiana
still have targeting control over the Trident carrying the x-ray laser warheads?”

“It does,” Richardson said, looking at his system graphic holo. “We’ve just had second stage separation from the first stage. Once the third stage carrying the warheads separates from the second stage, we lose all targeting control.”

“Understood,” he said hurriedly. “Have the
Louisiana
tell its Trident to target its x-ray laser warheads at the tail-end Charlie Collector ship.” Bill tapped his control pillar. “I’ve just told our spysat to give you the exact orbital location for where to target your missile. It’s the wounded ship that seems less able to fight effectively. Maybe we can disable the entire crew aboard that ship!”

“Sending that ship location,” Richardson said hurriedly.

“Bill,” Jane called. “Those x-ray lasers should make it easy for our boarding team to take over the ship, right?”

“It would,” he said. “A heavy dose of x-rays will either disable the Alien crew, or possibly kill some of them. Just depends on how strong a dose of x-rays makes it past the hull.” A worry hit him. “Star Traveler, please warn the AI mind on that ship to raise lead shields around the space where its mind is stored. I recall hearing that one Collector ship mind had to be retired due to damage from cosmic rays.”

“You are correct. That has happened,” the AI hummed long and low. “I spoke with my fellow ship mind. It understands the danger from coherent streams of x-rays. It is now bringing in hover bots to erect lead shields. How long does it have to do this work before your missile warheads fire their x-rays?”

Bill looked to Richardson. Who looked thoughtful, then scanned his system graphic. “Eleven minutes,” the CNO said. “The Trident II is an intercontinental ballistic missile with the capability of injecting warheads into orbit, which requires an insertion velocity of 17,500 miles per hour. That will be the speed of all Trident warheads as they follow their two equatorial vector tracks to the Collector ships.”

The AI hummed again. “My fellow ship mind advises that will be sufficient time for it to protect its brain functions. It expresses its . . . appreciation for your warning.”

Bill felt relief. Harm to the ship mind of any Collector ship was to be avoided at all costs. “Captain, the missile warhead barrages are rounding the curve of Earth. They are halfway to target.”

“Good,” Jane murmured. “Advise me when the warheads get close enough to detonate and when the x-ray lasers fire. Once that happens, this fleet will head over the north pole to make a laser strafing run against the Collector ships!”

He had wondered what the next step was going to be in Jane’s Stage Two defense of Earth. “Uh, I assume we will launch our six collector pods before we go on that strafing run?”

“You assume correctly,” she said softly, her tone distracted. “In fact, best we launch those pods now. They can travel across the United States at a slow speed, while we are strafing. Once we complete the strafing attack, we will head for the L4 orbital. At which point I expect the Collector ships to launch their own pods. They’ve taken some damage and your warhead barrage plus our laser strafing will surely encourage them to think about leaving sooner, than later.”

“I hope so,” Bill said. “But they threatened to knock out our space launch sites and to kill any plane or ship that launches a missile against them. Think they will still do that?”

“Yes,” Jane said firmly. “Those attacks will cause losses to our forces, to the Russians and to the Chinese. But while the Collectors laser zap some planes and some ships, our pods will arrive on board those six ships, along with other pods. Once our boarding teams start taser zapping ship crew, I expect those Earth-side attacks will fall off as each captain fights to keep control of his starship.”

“Understood.” Bill hoped that would be the case. The death of up to 10,000 sailors and airmen on the two laser-zapped carriers hit him where it hurt. His job had always been to anticipate enemy action, to infiltrate the enemy and then destroy that enemy before it could harm Americans and their allies. He licked his lips. At least when the pod teams boarded the Collector ships, the counter-attacks were likely to fall off as the ship captain and crew focused on trying to zap the boarders. Every one of those 18 people understood the stakes. Each of them had risked their lives for the team or for the mission in the past. Nine of them were people he’d spent the last three years with drinking, telling tall tales and sharing good times. Stefano, Alicia, Frank and Joe had gone trout fishing with him in the nearby Rockies. He’d built a special link with the four of them. Being out in the wilderness with just another person, making camp, catching your food, watching sunsets glorious together, and sharing personal upsets best kept private made for a relationship that went beyond that normal for fighters who shared a battle space. He didn’t want to lose those four. Or any of the other saloon vets. And the MacDill folks had impressed him with their dedication to duty, to the mission and to working as part of the team that had to infiltrate and take over the six Collector ships. Taking over the enemy ships meant more than gaining a fleet for America. It meant those six ships could no longer kidnap Americans and other humans for slavery in a far distant star system. It also meant those ships could act as a defense of Earth against future Collector ship visits.
Time to act now!
He tapped his control pillar, shifting his vacsuit comlink to the frequency used by his boarders.

“Alicia, Frank, Stefano, Janice, Mack and Jake, I’m launching your pods in one minute. Be aware that the Collectors are in orbit above the Pacific and we’ve had our first losses.” He took a deep breath. “We lost the carriers
Vinson
and
Roosevelt
just now, off of Hawaii. The Russians lost a
Typhoon
. Right after we launch you this ship and its allies are heading over the pole to make a laser strafing run against the Collectors.” He paused, recalling Richardson’s news. “Alicia, your pod is set to enter the tail-end Charlie ship that lost one engine in the Moon fight. Be aware it is the target of thermonuke-pumped x-ray lasers that may knock out its crew before your arrival. If that is the case, put any surviving crew into clamshell healers and then head for the Command Bridge and take control of the ship with the aid of the ship mind.” The comlink holo to his right showed Jane nodding approvingly at his order. “Everyone else, expect the Aliens to fight you the way they fought me and Jane in our takeover. Go for it!”

“Changed circumstance acknowledged,” Alicia replied over the suit comlink.

The other five team leaders gave similarly brief responses. He looked at his system graphic, then over at the true space holo that showed the six Collector ships as they hung in a line above Hawaii. While the spysats could not
see
the actual shape of each ship, the devices could detect the neutrino emissions of each ship. The sats then transmitted that location with an overlay of a ship outline to his station. That imagery was what he, Jane, Richardson, Bright Sparkle and his other crewmates all saw in their own true space holos. He looked right at the segmented worm shape of Long Walker. “Zipziptoe friend, open the Collector Pods Chamber hull and eject the six pods carrying our boarding teams.”

The creature who loved intense white light, could survive vacuum and had worked as a roaming genealogist on his home world lifted one of his front leg-hands and tapped the top of his control pillar with a claw-finger. “Chamber hull opened,” he moaned. “Local gravity turned off. Six collector pods are now . . . ejected.”

Bill’s true space holo split to show the night side of Earth. He watched as six white-glowing teardrops headed down into the air above eastern Canada, moving at a vector angle which would take them across Quebec, over Lake Huron, then they would skim slowly above the upper Midwest to give time for the launch of collector pods by the orbiting starships. Once Bill saw some collector pods leaving the mountains of California for the orbiting starships, he would have ship mind send the pods up to orbit with the other pods.