Rumors of Salvation (System States Rebellion Book 3) (21 page)

Molitor
couldn’t fault the logic, but she had a nagging feeling that they were
overlooking something. If they could improve the accuracy of the micro-jump so
that the margin of error was very small, then they could aim for a larger
range. They’d minimize the chances of emerging inside an enemy ship, and could
still use their powerful x-ray lasers to cripple those ships with two volleys
if not one. Majestic was certain to analyze their first attack in order to gain
whatever insights into weapons and tactics that it could get. If it ordered
those ships to change heading or velocity, that would throw off whatever
careful astrogational calculations her people made. She needed some specialized
advice.

“Commander
to Astrogator,” said Molitor over the ship’s intercom.

“Astro
here, Commander.”

“Come
to my cabin, Lieutenant. The other ship commanders and I are struggling with an
astrogational issue.”

“On
my way, Commander.”

While
they waited for the Astrogator to arrive, Yeager said, “Have you got something
in mind, Rachel?”

“Nothing
specific, Ernst. Just a gut feeling that we’re overlooking something important,
and I’m hoping that a fresh pair of eyes from an astrogational perspective will
see what I’m missing.”

When
the Astrogator arrived, Molitor explained Yeager’s proposal for another attack
and the need to get close, ideally without an overlapping emergence from
jump-space. After giving the problem some thought, the Astrogator responded.

“I
have an idea, but I need to ask a question or two first. How long do we think
it’ll take for the Empire ships to triangulate our positions, program their
missiles and launch them, and then for the missiles to line up for a
micro-jump?”

“What
do you think, Ernst?” asked Molitor.

“Not
more than twelve seconds at the most, maybe as little as ten.”

“I
can program another micro-jump in less than ten seconds,” said the Astrogator.

Molitor
was about to ask how that helped them when she suddenly understood what he was
getting at. If the fleet jumped back close enough to be able to track the
Empire ships with the Ether system, the Astrogator could then use the
triangulated data to program a very precise micro-jump that would get them
close without risking an overlapping emergence. The margin for jump error
dropped the shorter the jump was.

“Yes,
I see what you mean,” she said, “By jumping within detection range, we program
another and far more precise jump to get within firing range. Very nice,
Lieutenant.”

“That
will work the first time we try it, but Majestic thinks fast,” said Yeager, “By
the time we turn around and head back for a third run, it will have ordered its
ships to take counter-measures. If only there were some way to cripple those
ships with just one more attack.”

“I’m
puzzled, Commander,” said the Astrogator, “I thought our x-ray turrets could
penetrate deep into even an armored ship. Wouldn’t that cripple it?”

“Only
if we got lucky and hit something vital like the power plant. The drawback of
having that powerful an energy beam is that it only lasts for a fraction of a
second, not enough time to adjust the aim and cut across the target.”

“How
long does the beam last?” asked the Astrogator. Before Molitor could look it
up, Yeager answered the question. All four commanders waited while the
Astrogator took out his data tablet and crunched some numbers.

“Okay,
so if the firing ship is travelling at zero point eight nine percent of light
speed and emerges from hyper-space at a distance of not less than fifty-five
kilometers from the target, then a ship would have enough velocity so that a
laser beam’s fraction of a second existence would allow it to slash across the
entire target vessel. Would that cripple a ship?”

“That’s
a good question. I don’t think we can say definitively one way or the other,”
said Molitor.

“Ja,
but even if the target isn’t crippled, cutting deep into the hull all the way
across like that is bound to cause a lot of damage, like severed control
linkages, major atmospheric venting, that kind of thing,” said Yeager with
obvious enthusiasm.

“So
that brings us to the key question,” said Crusero, “Can Astrogation AND Weapons
co-ordinate their jump and targeting calculations precisely enough to make this
work, and can they do it in less than ten seconds?”

“There’s
only one way to find out,” said Molitor, “We do a simulated attack run and test
it.

The
first test run, made in deep space against a target that existed only in the
astrogational and targeting computers, was a clear failure, but both the W.O.
and the A.O. thought they could do better. The second simulated attack was
borderline successful. The third run was an unequivocal success. Molitor held another
C.O. video conference, this time from the Bridge, and told the other ships that
the next attack run would be the real thing. When all four ships were as ready
as they could be, she gave the order to accelerate to attack speed and line up
for the first of the two micro-jumps.

Molitor
checked the ship’s velocity on the display sidebar. They were at their target
velocity of 2,750 kilometers per second, slightly higher than the 2,670 kps
that her Astrogator had calculated as the minimum velocity needed to do the
maximum damage to the enemy ships. The fleet was fast approaching the jump
point. Once again, all four ships’ helm controls were tied in to Coral Sea’s
Helm Station so that every action was done exactly at the same time.

With
seconds left in the countdown, Molitor cleared her throat and said, “Okay,
Helm, Astro and Guns, this is your show. You know what you have to do.” None of
the three officers acknowledged her comment and none was expected.

“Jumping
in three…two…one…Mark!” intoned the Helm Officer. The first micro-jump would
take just under a minute. As the four ships emerged from hyper-space, the
tactical display pinged and showed the updated data from the Ether detection
system. Four ships were still clustered together exactly where the computers
calculated they should be if they kept to the same vector as before. The lone,
fifth ship was gone. Molitor watched the elapsed time counter tick the seconds
away since the jump.

“Second
jump co-ordinates ready! Guns?” yelled the Astrogator. Five elapsed seconds.

“Targeting…ready!”
shouted the Weapons Officer. Eight elapsed seconds.

“Jumping
now,” said the Helm Officer in a surprisingly calm voice. Ten elapsed seconds.
The second jump took less than two seconds because of the much shorter
distance.

“Targets
acquired! Firing in two…one…Mark!” shouted the W.O. As the fleet roared past
the slowly moving Empire ships, each Resistance ship fired two x-ray laser
turrets at one of the four targets. There was no chance of missing. The only
question was how much damage the lasers would cause. Molitor got her answer
almost immediately.

“All
four targets are venting a lot of atmosphere, Commander, and they’ve all
stopped accelerating too!”

Molitor
shifted her gaze to the tactical display. At this range, each Empire ship was
represented by its own icon. All four icons were now indicating ballistic
trajectories and venting. She had to make a decision about whether the fleet
should jump away again, and she needed to make it quickly just in case one or
more Empire ships fired more missiles at them.

“Vixen,
Europa, fire your missiles! Helm, execute fleet jump as soon as they’ve fired!”
ordered Molitor.
Thank God Drake decided to leave the cruisers with some of
the missile tubes intact, she thought.
There was no point in attempting to
destroy the Empire ships with missiles so long as the stealthy enemy ships
could maneuver, but without that ability they were sitting ducks. With the
missiles’ guidance systems programmed with the targets’ co-ordinates and
vectors, and with the missiles launched at this short range, there was no
chance of them missing either, but Coral Sea and the rest of the fleet would
have already jumped away by the time their missiles hit the targets. The fleet
would have to decelerate, then accelerate in the opposite direction and jump
back again in order to see the results of their own missile attack.

The
trip back was conducted as if it were another attack run. The initial jump
revealed that there were multiple smaller hunks of metal coasting on the same
vector as the four ships. All four Empire ships had been literally blown apart
by the attacking missiles’ fission warheads. Molitor cancelled the
pre-programmed jump in order for the fleet to decelerate to a modest velocity so
that it wouldn’t shoot past Hadley when they made their next jump.

By
the time the fleet was ready to make the jump to Hadley’s hyper-zone boundary,
Molitor realized that she was very tired. It was the damned adrenaline fatigue
setting in. She ordered coffee brought to the Bridge for everyone. The jump
itself was anti-climactic. What was left of the enemy ships was roughly 5,000
kilometers distant. She was able to see some of the pieces tumbling with
red-hot, molten edges via Coral Sea’s optics set on maximum zoom. That sight
reminded her that she was responsible for the deaths of four ship crews who
probably had all been implanted and forced to fight against their will. She
struggled to hold back the tears of sorrow. God damn Jonn Trojan for letting
Majestic get out of control! If he was still alive, she was determined to bring
him to justice. She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts.

“Molitor
to Fleet. Begin radar and visual scanning for defensive satellites. We’re not
going any lower until the coast is clear. Coral Sea out.” Turning to the Com
Station she asked. “Any transmissions from the planet or nearby space,
Lieutenant?”

“Nothing,
Commander, and I mean nothing. Not even from the colony. This planet is quiet
as a tomb.”

That
was unusual. Under normal circumstances, a planet with 22 million colonists
would have at least some radio traffic virtually all the time. She couldn’t
help thinking that the complete lack of it here and now was a bad omen.

The
fleet stayed out beyond the hyper-zone boundary, spending the next six hours
looking for any kind of defensive satellites. When they found none and when
Molitor was satisfied that there wasn’t an ambush waiting for them, she ordered
the fleet to drop down to a low orbit. Even before they settled into it, the
optics revealed the reason why there was no radio traffic at all. There was no
sign of life in any of the towns and cities. There were what appeared to be
dead bodies. Molitor forced herself to watch the blurry images with a fury
growing inside of her. What twisted machine logic could possibly make Majestic
order the use of the bio-weapon on the humans inhabiting its own planet? Didn’t
it still need some humans to carry out its commands?

By
the time the fleet had settled into a low orbit, Molitor was boarding a
shuttle. If Trojan was still alive, then he would be either at his palace or at
the Majestic Complex. Since destroying that machine was really her number one
priority, she ordered the pilot to land near the Complex entrance. While there
was some risk of contamination, she felt it was worth taking. Just in case the
Complex was defended, she brought along a squad of security personnel fitted
out with body armor and heavy weapons brought along for this very mission. The
shuttle also carried a fission warhead small and light enough to be carried by
four people. The best way to destroy Majestic would be to set off the warhead
inside Majestic’s guts. If they weren’t able to force their way inside, then
she’d order the fleet to use its x-ray lasers to try to blast through the
outside armor.

The
flight down was nerve-wracking. Even though there was no sign of any
ground-based weapons that might have threatened the shuttle, Molitor couldn’t
help wondering if her shuttle would be blown out of the sky at any moment. When
it finally touched down, she let out a sigh of relief and willed her hands to
stop shaking. The security squad got out first and quickly gave her the all
clear signal.

When
she stepped on to the ground, she shivered, and not just because of the cold
wind blowing. There was an eerie silence that kept making her want to look over
her shoulder. The main entrance to the Complex was open. A four-man team led
the way, followed by Molitor and then the rest of the twelve-man squad, with the
last four carrying the warhead. There was no sound inside, not even the sound
of the air ventilation system. They headed down the escalator, which wasn’t
working, and came to the multi-ton, collapsium-plated vault door which,
surprisingly, was also open enough for them to pass through. She took note of
the fact that even though the ventilation system wasn’t on, the lights were.
From conversations with officers who had been brought here to speak with
Majestic, she knew where to go to find the so-called ‘audience room’. That’s
where they found Trojan.

He
was sitting on the floor and leaning back against the wall-size video screen,
which was not showing anything at the moment. When she got close enough to get
a good look at his face, she was shocked by what she saw. His face looked as
though dead skin had been stretched over a skull, with eyes that were sunk so
far into their sockets that for a moment she thought he had no eyes at all. It
wasn’t until he opened them that she realized he wasn’t dead.

“You’re
too late,” said Trojan in a raspy voice that made Molitor’s skin crawl.

She
stepped closer and crouched down. “Too late for what, General?” She refused to
use his title of Emperor.

“Majestic’s
gone.”

She
waited for him to say more, but realized he wasn’t going to elaborate without
coaxing. “What do you mean, Majestic’s gone? How can Majestic go anywhere?
Isn’t it still inside this Complex?”

“It
told me everything before it left. It calculated that the Brain Trust might
develop enough advanced weapons to be able to fight their way past any
defenses, so it ordered a huge ship built, a kilometer in diameter. You have to
see it to believe it. I did see it. It’s so big that it can carry the same
volume of computer components that are in this complex and still have room for
thousands of slaves and massive amounts of cargo. Majestic had itself
duplicated inside the ship’s cargo hold, and then it uploaded its programming
into the new machine. It took ten thousand slaves, all with useful skills,
along with enough equipment to set up a whole new base somewhere secret where
it will expand itself even further and build up another fleet of ships. What’s
left here is just the physical components. There’s nothing inside the memory
banks. It’s an empty machine.”

It
took Molitor a few seconds to come to grips with what she just heard. It
occurred to her that Trojan might be lying, but his voice had the ring of truth
to it. Killing all the colonists and destroying all the industrial
infrastructure on Makassar as part of a scorched earth policy did fit in with a
plan to leave, but something didn’t make sense.

“If
Majestic is really gone, why were there warships defending this planet?” she
asked.

“A
delaying action and a calculated risk that those ships might be able to defeat
whatever forces tried to attack here. If your attack had failed, it might be
months, maybe even years, before another attack finally succeeded, and I’d be
dead by then. Majestic told me what it was doing because it assumed that the
plague would kill me before anyone could ask me anything. I had a hunch it
would let the plague loose on Hadley, so when it left, I kept my distance from
everyone else and came here to hide.”

Molitor
shook her head in dismay. It all made a ruthless kind of sense. Her dismay quickly
turned to anger. She leaned forward and grabbed Trojan by the lapels of his
colorful but now dirty jacket and shook him.

“WHY
DID YOU LET MAJESTIC TAKE OVER? DON’T YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU’VE DONE?” Her
yelling had no apparent impact on Trojan’s expression, but when he replied, his
raspy voice was heavy with sorrow.

“I
had no idea Majestic was capable of independent action until his slaves forced
me to accept the implant, and then it was too late to do anything about it.
Majestic was very careful not to tip its hand before it was ready to act. I
believed its prediction of a collapse of Civilization unless a strong, central
government took control. I still do.”

Molitor
let go of his jacket and stood up. “It lied to you about that too! We built our
own version of Majestic and asked it to evaluate the future of civilization! It
told us that a collapse wasn’t inevitable and that a strong central government
was NOT the way to prevent it!” She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to
calm her body and mind. When she felt her heart rate slow down to normal, she
opened her eyes and said, “You’ve had a lot of direct communication with
Majestic. Do you have any inkling or gut feel for where it might have gone?
Think hard, Trojan. This might be your last chance for some kind of
redemption.”

Trojan’s
cracked lips curled up into a hideous looking smile. “Redemption? There’s no
redemption for me now. I know that. No redemption for me and no salvation for
any of you. If you thought you could find salvation from what we’ve created,
you’re deluding yourselves. Those were nothing but rumors of salvation.
Majestic is the next step in human evolution, and it will wipe us all out just
like Homo Sapiens wiped out the Neanderthals. No, I have no idea where Majestic
went.” Trojan closed his eyes and sighed.

Molitor
turned to look at her security squad. “Let’s get that warhead countdown started
and get out of here. Even if this complex is just an empty shell, I’m not
leaving it intact.”