Rumors of Salvation (System States Rebellion Book 3) (6 page)

It
was another 36 hours before the background radiation at the attack site was low
enough that an armored aircar could get close without risking the passengers’
lives. Trojan told the pilot to circle the complex slowly. The collapsed matter
clad pyramid that protected Majestic’s Phase II expansion was still there, and
it didn’t appear to be damaged at all. The land around the complex was
blackened from the heat of the six miniature suns for the few seconds of their
existence. Trojan didn’t need to see a gauge showing the outside temperature to
know that the area was hot in both senses of the word; the shimmering air told
him that. The main entrance to the Complex was now a pile of scorched rubble.
All communication with Majestic was gone too. The above-ground transmitters had
been destroyed, and the underground fibre-optic cables were no longer working,
either because the cabling itself was damaged or the switching stations were
wrecked. While Trojan was concerned over whether Majestic itself was still
functional, his immediate priority was determining the fate of the support
staff who had been inside the Complex during the attack. As useful as Majestic
had been in the past and might still be in the future, it was just a machine,
and it could be rebuilt if necessary. The human staff were technically part of
his Palace staff and therefore his responsibility. He had gotten to know some
of them quite well before moving into the Palace. The engineers had already
told him that clearing the access rubble would take days, and there was no
guarantee that the collapsed matter blast door at the bottom of the escalator
could be opened. If the support staff had survived the concussion waves and
weren’t too badly injured, they would have enough air, water and food to last
for a few weeks.

It
actually took three weeks to get to the blast door and another day to get it
open. The support staff were all still alive, though two had broken bones that
had to be reset. Communication between Majestic and the Palace was
re-established at almost the same time, although until further repairs could be
made, data transmission was limited to text messages only. Trojan was waiting
in his office when he heard the chime that indicated an incoming text message
from Majestic.

[95.6%
probability that attack on Majestic Complex carried out by SSU Brain Trust.
Radar-evading nature of attack would be the logical outcome of Brain Trust
research and development efforts. Discovery of location of Brain Trust should
now be Empire’s first priority. Probability of defeating the Brain Trust would
increase by 21.55% if Emperor and senior naval officers had direct communication
implants.]

Trojan
nodded as he read the first part. Majestic’s conclusion jived with his own
assessment that the attack had to be the work of the rebel Brain Trust. His
ships and troops were carefully watching every planet that had the human and
physical resources needed to build warships. All the planets that didn’t have
troops on the ground or ships in orbit were either too low in population or
didn’t have access to sufficient raw materials. His self-congratulatory smile
vanished when he read the last sentence.

“I
will not accept the implant, nor will I order anyone else to accept it. Do not
suggest that again. Develop a plan to search for the Brain Trust and transmit
the plan to Admiral Nagumo for implementation.” With his verbal response converted
to digital impulses by the computer in his office, Trojan waited to see if
Majestic would send another message, but nothing happened. He was just about to
leave the office when the wall display activated to show the face of one of his
Communication Technicians.

“Please
forgive the intrusion, Emperor Jonn, but we’ve just received an abbreviated
message from Majestic via the backup link. It says that the main link has
failed. It goes on to say that Majestic has calculated the most likely location
of the rebel base, but is unable to transmit that data via the backup link due
to the link’s limited data capacity. The data can be shown to you if you come
to the complex. The last sentence was cut off. All we got was ‘Unless Emperor
comes to complex immediately, Empire Project will f—‘

Trojan
was puzzled by the sudden failure of both the primary and backup data links,
but Majestic’s claim to have identified the most likely location of the Brain
Trust caused his curiosity to overcome any hesitation on his part. He ordered
the armored aircar to be ready as soon as possible. The rebel Brain Trust was
the SSU’s last hope of resurrection. If the Empire could find it and crush it,
then he would have won.

It
was night by the time his aircar gently settled down in front of the damaged
entrance to the Complex. Enough rubble had been removed so that a person could
squeeze through the opening. The escalator down to the blast door was still not
working, and Trojan was winded by the time he got to the bottom. He nodded to
the guards who had jumped to attention, and he stepped past the open blast door
into the Complex itself. Two support staff were waiting for him.

“We’ve
been sent to escort you to the Majestic,” said the one on the left. Trojan just
ignored him and continued on the path to the room where Majestic could
communicate verbally and visually. No sooner had he entered the room then both
of his arms were grabbed by very strong hands.

“WHAT
IS THE MEANING OF THIS? HOW DARE YOU TOUCH YOUR EMPEROR!” he yelled with
genuine outrage.

“Be
at peace, Emperor Jonn. Once the device is implanted, there will no longer be
any discord or conflict between us. We will be as one,” said Majestic. Trojan
struggled to get loose, but couldn’t break the iron grip of the two support
staff members.

“GUARDS!
HELP ME!”

“The
guards at the entrance will not help you, Jonn. They’ve already been implanted
too. Struggling is pointless. The implant device can manipulate the body’s
adrenal gland as needed to give a temporary boost in strength, one of the
benefits of having been implanted. If you obey me, Jonn, you’ll experience a
constant feeling of wellbeing and joy. If you try to disobey, you’ll feel
unbearable pain.”

By
this time Trojan was being carried down a corridor. He was about to yell again
when he felt himself being given an injection. His vision started to fade
almost immediately. Before he could put together a coherent thought, he passed
out.

Admiral
Nagumo was startled by the incoming call. The Emperor rarely called people at this
time of night. As he accepted the call, he realized that it was audio only and
that it wasn’t coming from the Palace.

“Admiral,
I require your presence at the Majestic Complex immediately. I also want to see
the Commanding Officers of my warships who are either on the ground or in
orbit. Bring them with you. How soon can you get here?”

There
was something about the Emperor’s voice that made Nagumo sit up and take
notice. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said that the Emperor was under a
lot of stress.

“The
COs and I can be at the MC in 45 minutes, Emperor Jonn.”

“Make
it 35, Admiral.” There was an undercurrent of menace in that voice, and Nagumo
felt an involuntary shiver.

“We’ll
be there within 35 minutes, my Emperor.” As Nagumo rushed to obey, he couldn’t
help wondering what was so urgent that it couldn’t be handled at the Palace in
daytime.

Day
080/2553

Senior
Lieutenant Rolf Schimdt watched the shuttle taxi into the Hangar Bay and come
to a stop. By the time he reached it, the CO had already exited, and Schmidt
only caught a brief glimpse of the man as he rushed for the hatch leading to
the elevators and presumably the Bridge. Lieutenant Abernathy, the shuttle’s
Pilot, stepped down onto the deck just as Schmidt came up.

“What’s
with the Old Man, Mandy? I’ve never seen him move so fast,” said Schmidt.

Abernathy
took her time answering. Schmidt noticed that she had a puzzled look on her
face.

“Something
weird is going on, Lieutenant,” she said in a slow voice. “The Old Man wasn’t
the only commander ordered down to the Majestic Complex on short notice. They
were all there, all the commanders of warships, plus Nagumo. They went inside
and didn’t come out for almost four hours. Then they came out as a group, and
they all had this pained expression on their faces.”

“Aw
come on, you must be exaggerating.”

Abernathy
shook her head. “Hell no, I’m not exaggerating. It was a damn strange sight,
but that’s not the worst of it. On the way back up here, I switched on the
video camera in the passenger section to check to see if the Old Man was okay,
and I saw him writhing in pain and holding the back of his neck with both
hands. I asked him if he needed assistance, and after a few seconds he said no
and ordered me to turn the camera off.”

Schmidt
shrugged. “So the Old Man had a headache. I would too if I’d been ordered out
of bed in the middle of the night for a four hour powwow with the Emperor.” He
was about to say more when he saw Abernathy shake her head again, this time
more emphatically.

“That
was no headache. Headaches don’t make you writhe in pain like that. The
expression he had when he came out of the Complex jives with what Lieutenant
Tulo told me about Conqueror’s Weapons Officer, Evanka Nolan. He told me that
she had a pained expression, that’s the phrase he used, when she came back to
the ship from a trip to the Complex to visit her brother. I’m telling ya,
Lieutenant, there’s something about this that’s setting off alarm bells in my
head.”

“Okay.
I agree with you, that does sound strange, but I don’t see what I can do about
it.” Before Abernathy could respond, they both heard the two-tone signal for a
ship-wide announcement.

“Attention
all hands. This ship will leave orbit in two minutes. Astrogator and Helm
Officers to the Bridge. That is all.”

Schmidt
looked at Abernathy with a frown on his face. “We’ve still got some crew on
shore leave on the planet. What’s the Old Man doing leaving them behind?”
Abernathy shrugged but said nothing.

When
Schmidt was on his way to his duty station in Damage Control, he came across
Molitor, the Executive Officer, in the corridor. Schmidt stopped her and told
her what Abernathy had told him. He expected her to be skeptical and was
surprised when she didn’t try to come up with a more prosaic explanation. When
they parted company, she had a thoughtful expression on her face.

When
the ship was safely in hyper-space and the Bridge Watch was set, Molitor went
down to the CO’s cabin and rang the buzzer. She heard the CO’s voice telling
her to enter. She entered and heard the sound of water running in the washroom.

“What
is it, XO?” The CO’s voice came from the washroom and sounded tired.

“I
just wanted to inform you that I checked our store of consumables. We won’t
have enough to last us past Hiesenburg, Skipper. I thought you should know.” As
she talked, she walked up to an upholstered chair where the CO’s shirt was
laying. The inside of the light blue collar had a red spot that looked to her
like blood, and fresh blood at that.

“Not
a problem, XO. We’ll requisition what we need when we get to Midgard. Anything
else on your mind?”

Molitor
was now looking through the open washroom door. She couldn’t see the CO
directly, but she could see his left shoulder in the mirror on the far wall.
She moved over just in time to get a good look at the reflected image of the
CO’s naked back and neck. There was a metal something visible just below the
hairline, and a trickle of blood was slowly making its way down his back.

“Ah…no,
Skipper, nothing else. Are you feeling okay? Lieutenant Abernathy thought you
might be having a bad headache.”

After
a slight pause, she heard what sounded like a whimper, but she decided it was
likely her imagination as he said, “Just tired, XO. I intend to catch up on my
lost sleep. Thanks for your concern. If there’s nothing else, then I’ll let you
get back to your duties.”

As
she left the CO’s cabin, she realized that her hands were trembling slightly.
She’d heard rumors about some kind of communication device implanted in the
necks of the support staff at the Majestic Complex. Why the hell did a ship
commander need a communication device implanted when it couldn’t possibly work
over interstellar distances or even if the ship was still in orbit over Hadley?
If Conqueror’s Weapons Officer had something implanted in her neck, could that
explain why she transmitted those orders to launch nukes on Earth? Those orders
were a mystery, and now Molitor’s CO was acting strangely, leaving orbit with
crew still on the ground when there didn’t seem to be any good reason to leave
so quickly. She had to find Schmidt and tell him what she had just seen.

74
days later:

Molitor
stepped onto the Bridge and looked around carefully. No one was looking in her
direction. She had a medical injection pistol inside her uniform jacket and was
worried that someone would see the bulge and say something to attract the CO’s
attention. No one seemed to notice it, though, as she walked over to stand
slightly behind and a little to one side of the Command Station chair where the
CO was seated. The tactical image on the main display showed Midgard’s moon
with the ship only a couple of minutes away from the orbital reconnaissance
that their mission plan called for. The CO had briefed his officers about this
mission. Majestic was convinced that the attack on Hadley had been carried out
by the SSU Brain Trust, but in order to cover all possibilities, every planet,
moon or asteroid that was known to have high concentrations of metals was to be
looked over very carefully. And since Midgard’s moon had already been used once
to build rebel warships, it was the first mission target on their list.

Molitor
didn’t know what, if anything, they’d find here, but she knew what she was
going to do if they did find something. Over the past 85 days, she, Schmidt,
Abernathy and several other officers who had been brought up to speed had seen
enough unusual behaviour by the CO to confirm their suspicions that the metal
device on his neck was affecting his behavior and possibly his judgement too.
Casual remarks by the CO in the Officer’s Lounge about needing to ‘thin out the
herd with nukes’ clashed with the almost pacifist attitude that, prior to the
midnight visit to the Complex, he had generally displayed regarding the subject
of attacks on civilians. Plus, he was now taking deliberate actions to avoid
letting anyone see the back of his neck when previously he had exercised in the
recreation area bare-chested. Each anomaly by itself could be explained away
harmlessly, but when all the pieces were put together, it was clear to her and
the others that the CO was not in control of himself, and she was convinced he
hadn’t let that happen voluntarily. As worthy a goal as the Empire might be,
there was no justification for abusing individuals like that. She shivered with
the thought that if ship COs could be forced to accept those implants, then so
could ship XOs.

So
she would wait to see if they found any unusual mining or extraction activity
on Midgard’s moon, and if they did, and if the CO wanted to nuke it, she would
stop him with a knockout drug.

The
first complete pass over the moon took less than 30 minutes. It revealed only
one spot that had suspicious activity worthy of a second, closer look. As the
ship hovered over that spot at an altitude of a couple of hundred kilometers,
its optical sensors zoomed in and noticed regular plumes of hot gases spewing from
the ground. Spectral analysis of the gases showed them to be the by-product of
smelting activity rather than something that occurred naturally.

“Weps,
prepare to launch a missile with a ground-penetrating, Mark 5 warhead,” ordered
the CO. Molitor looked at the Weapons Officer, who returned the gaze. He was
part of her cadre of in-the-know officers. She shook her head ever so slightly.
He nodded just as slightly and pretended to manipulate his weapons console.

As
the Weapons Officer reported that the missile was ready for launch, Molitor
quickly pulled the injection pistol from her jacket pocket and held it a
centimeter from the exposed part of the CO’s neck. She pressed the trigger and
the pistol fired tiny ice crystals at a high enough speed to penetrate the
skin. The CO reacted instantly, so fast in fact that it caught Molitor by
surprise. He jumped up and spun around to face her. Before she could react, he
slapped the pistol from her hand and grabbed her by the throat. Her second
surprise was how strong his grip was.
With that much strength he could snap
my neck!
Just as she gave existence to that thought, the grip slackened
quickly and the CO sagged to the floor.

As
she massaged her bruised throat, she looked around the Bridge. Everyone was
looking at her with shocked expressions, even the Weapons Officer, although his
shock was not for what happened but rather for how quickly it happened.

“Everyone
stay where you are and remain calm,” she said in what she hoped was a calm but
firm voice. “The Skipper has been under control of a device that was implanted
at the back of his neck. I’ll show you.” She put one knee on the CO’s back to
make sure he didn’t jump up again and folded back his jacket collar. The metal
device was plainly visible, and the tiny lights were blinking furiously. She
made sure that everyone on the Bridge was able to see the implant before
ordering the Com Technician to call two Marines with restraints to the Bridge.
After being briefed on why the ship’s CO was unconscious on the floor and
seeing the implant, the marines applied the restraints to the CO and carried
him off the Bridge and on to Sick Bay. There the ship’s Chief Medical Officer,
who already knew what to expect, was waiting to see if the implant could be
removed safely.

“Listen
up, people,” said Molitor. “I’m assuming command of this ship. What you’ve just
seen is an attempt by rogue forces within the command structure to hijack the
Empire for their own selfish purposes. Every ship CO now has one of those
implants in their necks. I believe they were forced to accept them, and I’m
convinced that if we return to Hadley, I and eventually all of you will be
forced to accept an implant as well. Therefore returning to Hadley is not an
option for us. If we’re going to stop this hideous threat, we’ll need help.
Right now the only organized military force not under Empire control that I
know of seems to be in this star system. I intend to make contact with them and
ask for their help. Does anyone have a problem with that?” She slowly looked at
everyone and saw them all shake their heads in the negative.

“Good!
Then let’s head for Midgard. That’s where they have to be building ships.”

It
was almost 24 hours before they were able to identify a location on Midgard
where there seemed to be some kind of industrial activity that the locals were
attempting to hide. It was inside an extinct volcano. Whoever was responsible
for that operation had gone to great lengths to keep it from being detected.
There were no visible lights at night, and the level of heat radiating out of
the volcano was barely higher than the ambient temperature. The giveaway was a
small air vehicle that was tracked flying into the volcano in the middle of the
night and not coming out for several hours. Based on that suspicious activity,
Molitor ordered the ship to hover almost 50 kilometers over the volcano and
wait until the local sun was at its highest point in the sky. The ship’s
opticals were able to zoom in enough to see movement inside the volcano. With
that confirmation, Molitor ordered the ship to drop down to the same height as
the top of the volcano and hover about 100 meters away. They then settled down
to wait.

Murphy
climbed aboard the air-bus with the rest of the people who were due some
R&R and settled down in a seat for the 89 minute ride. He wasn’t going into
the city to have fun. There were logistical matters that required face-to-face
meetings between him and several city officials. Once those were taken care of,
he intended to spend a few more hours getting a good night’s sleep in a
comfortable hotel bed before coming back. Living quarters at the Base were
utilitarian at best. Making the Base personnel comfortable hadn’t been a high
priority for Admiral Chenko and General Masterson when they were supervising
the operation, and now it was even lower. When everyone was aboard and seated,
Murphy leaned forward, looked towards the flight deck, and said, “Okay,
Lieutenant, we’re ready back here.”