The Swarm (7 page)

“It's not what I expected, sir,” said Mazer.

“I trust you'll keep this little secret between us,” said Vaganov. “If the kiss-ups knew how self-defeating their behavior really was, they'd change. That's why I consider them so unreliable. They shift with the wind.” He shook his head. “No, there is only one way to gain my favor, Mazer. By being the best damn soldier you can be. By dedicating yourself completely to whatever missions you're assigned. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think you're one of those soldiers, Mazer. In fact, I'd bet my life on it.”

Mazer wasn't sure how to respond. “Thank you, sir.”

“That lofty opinion of you is not mine alone,” said Vaganov. “I asked my advisers to tell me which of our breach teams was the best, and they all, independent of each other, picked yours.”

“Thank you, sir. My men are very competent. I think I got the best in the IF.”

“Or you made them that way, more likely,” said Vaganov. “An army is only as strong as its commander, including an army of only four men. In any case, I see that you and your men are one of the teams testing the gravity disruptor.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vaganov nodded. “And what do you think of the device?”

Mazer hesitated. “Permission to speak candidly, sir.”

Vaganov motioned for Mazer to proceed. “Please.”

“Sir, the gravity disruptor is a do-or-die weapon,” Mazer said. “If it fails, marines die. They cannot retreat. Nor can they be rescued. Any craft that attempted to do so would be incinerated instantly. We either penetrate that hull and take the ship, or we lose good marines. And based on our tests, I think it highly likely that the GD will fail.”

Colonel Vaganov reached into the holofield and brought up a report. “If that's your assessment, Mazer, then why do you run so many tests? It says here that you and your men have tested the GD nearly twice as many times as the other teams. Far more times than is recommended.”

“The IF may adopt this tech, sir,” Mazer said, “whether I agree with that decision or not. Should that occur, we must know the best operational tactics to minimize casualties and maximize success. That means taking every aspect of this operation into consideration and holding it up to intense scrutiny. Not just the tech itself, but how we deliver the tech, how we work as a team to set and activate the cubes. The op seems rather straightforward, I know, but my team has discovered many potential improvements. Everything from specific choreography to new tech marines might find useful.”

“New tech?” asked Vaganov. “Like what exactly?”

“A few days ago we developed a rudimentary design for a nanobot shield that would catch and dampen explosive Formic doily rounds.” Mazer explained the premise behind the shields. Then, with Colonel Vaganov's permission, he reached into the holofield and dug through the station's files until he brought up the model Shambhani had created.

“I see,” said Vaganov. “Interesting. Have you told anyone outside your team about this design?”

Mazer hesitated. The IF didn't explicitly forbid private forums like the one Mazer had created, but Mazer had never met a commander who liked the idea. If he divulged the forum to Vaganov, there was the risk that Vaganov would order him to shut it down. Mazer could probably argue whether that was a lawful order or not, but he didn't want to risk it. So he answered honestly without mentioning the forum.

“I've shared it with a few junior officers, yes.”

Vaganov shook his head. “Next time, don't. If you share ideas with junior officers, they'll only run it up the chain as if it were their own. What's worse, their simpleminded commanders will dismiss the tech outright because they won't understand it. Then these same commanders will fight against the tech's approval should it resurface elsewhere, lest they look like the fool for not approving it initially. That's how these people think, Mazer. They'll do anything to protect their own image. I saw it all the time at Acquisitions. It's senseless and stupid, but that's the IF. Share your ideas with others outside your circle, and you're throwing pearls before swine.”

Mazer considered that. On one hand, he agreed. He had seen commanders act in the very way Vaganov described. Yet guarding ideas wasn't the solution either.

“If you have ideas,” said Vaganov, “anything that requires development, bring them to me. Let me employ our engineers and get some momentum behind it before some dimwit commander puts a bullet in it. While at Acquisitions I developed relationships with people who can make things happen. They trust me. If I connect you with them, they'll listen to you.”

Mazer didn't like the arrangement. If he took Vaganov's orders to the letter, he would never post to the forum again, he would bring everything directly and only to the colonel. That would defeat the very purpose of the forum and hinder the proliferation of ideas.

And yet … if Vaganov was sincere, if he had the connections he claimed, he might break down all the barriers Mazer and others had encountered as they tried moving intel and ideas up the chain.

“Are we clear?” said Vaganov.

“Understood,” said Mazer.

Vaganov nodded, the matter settled. “Good. Now, back to the gravity disruptor. You think the device will fail. Why?”

“Several reasons,” said Mazer. “One, Formics communicate instantaneously across great distances without tech. As soon as one Formic figures out we're using camouflaged capsules, every Formic on every ship will know. They won't take chances after that. They'll obliterate every scrap of debris approaching their ships. Big or small.”

Vaganov nodded. “Go on.”

“Problem two,” said Mazer. “It's unlikely that the GD can penetrate the hull of a Formic ship. We have their scout ship from the previous war in our possession … well, technically Juke Limited has it, but it doesn't matter anyway because the engineers at Juke can't even scratch its surface. Nothing damages that hull. It's an indestructible alien alloy that remains a total mystery. Ukko Jukes believed gravity manipulation could damage it, but he was wrong. The GD is built upon the same principle. It will likely prove ineffective as well.”

“The hull of the Formic scout ship is not the only material the Formics use to construct their ships,” said Vaganov. “The Juke gravity weapon ripped Formic fighters to shreds.”

Mazer nodded. “Fighters, yes. But those were small vessels not intended for interstellar flight and built with a different alloy. The ships
we
need to breach are the big interstellar ships en route to our solar system. They will likely have indestructible hulls much like the scout ship.”

“Probably,” Vaganov agreed. “Anything else?”

“The GD's delivery system,” said Mazer. “The pieces must be hand-delivered and set. Which means if the capsules don't deliver the marines, the mission fails. In our test runs, we use a dummy Formic ship that's adrift. In battle, Formic ships will be active and mobile, capable of altering their speed and trajectory at any moment. If they do while the capsules are en route, which is highly likely, the marines will miss the target altogether and float off into space.”

“The GD is by no means a perfect system,” said Vaganov. “Unfortunately, it's the best we have at the moment, and time is running short. The loss of Copernicus has the world in an uproar. Confidence in the IF is at an all-time low. This is a delicate situation, Mazer. If we appear weak and inept, we could lose support from superpowers like the US and China, whose taxes fund the Hegemony and the IF. That would only leave us weaker than we already are.”

Mazer nodded. He understood the state of things.

“That's where you come in,” said Vaganov. “The Hegemon wants to announce new tech in our arsenal to put people's minds at ease, something that shows we're prepared for the fight ahead.”

“The gravity disruptor,” said Mazer.

Vaganov nodded. “The Hegemon wants to unveil it to the press. The capsules and the GD will illustrate that we can strike the Formics to the heart.”

“That's premature,” said Mazer. “And misleading. We don't know that the GD will work. In all likelihood it won't.”

“That's not the point,” said Vaganov. “The point is to provide the
perception
of strength. Whether the GD sees combat or not is irrelevant. The Hegemon wants to give the press a dog and pony show, and that's precisely what we will give them.”

“How?” said Mazer. “The engineers haven't even begun testing live charges. We're still practicing with dummy cubes.”

“No more,” said Vaganov. “Tomorrow morning you will begin testing with live charges.”

Mazer couldn't hide his surprise. “Sir, every computer simulation thus far has shown that the hull's integrity responds in unpredictable ways. Cracks form outside the detonation zone. Shrapnel is heavy. The engineers are still calibrating the device. They'll tell you it's not ready.”

“I have spoken with the engineers,” said Vaganov. “And I have given them my instructions. They'll be ready.”

“They
assure
you they'll be ready or you have
ordered
them to be ready?”

Vaganov's pleasant expression fell. “Careful, Mazer. You overstep your bounds the moment you question my orders.”

“Sir,” said Mazer, “with all due respect, testing the GD on human ships teaches us little about how the Formic hull material will react. We'd be testing on watermelons and making conclusions about bowling balls.”

“That fact is not lost on me, Captain. But we don't have Formic ships to practice on. The scout ship is property of Juke Limited, and they won't grant us access.”

“If any piece of the GD malfunctions,” said Mazer, “it would alter the direction of the tidal forces at play. The results could be disastrous. Shards of hull material could burst outward and cut through my team like paper.”

“I am aware of the danger,” said Vaganov. “As well as the challenges of the task. That is why I'm employing my best team. You'll begin tomorrow at 0700. My aides will forward you the particulars.” Vaganov turned back to his desk.

It was a dismissal.

Well there you have it, Mazer thought. Vaganov was no ally, after all. In fact, he might even be more dangerous than the bureaucrats, for he was willing to needlessly endanger soldiers to please his superiors.

“Permission to submit a formal objection,” said Mazer.

Colonel Vaganov didn't look at him. “If you feel the need to cover your ass, Mazer, by all means do so.”

It was all Mazer
could
do. He straightened, saluted, and was out the door without another word.

*   *   *

Mazer's team set out the following morning on schedule, with Mazer leading them in his capsule. Their destination this time was a C-class harvester—an early vessel in the space-mining industry designed to latch on to small, near-Earth asteroids and pull them to a harvesting station where miners would pick them clean of iron ore and precious metals.

“Just like we practiced,” Mazer said. “The cubes may be live, but nothing we do changes.”

At the appropriate time, he launched from his capsule and touched down on the surface, locking his Nan-Ooze boots into place. Three small vid screens on the left side of his HUD showed him the helmet cams of his teammates, who touched down nearby.

The team moved swiftly, covering each other as they anchored their cubes to the hull. There would be no augmented-reality battle this time. This was get in and detonate.

Mazer felt tense as he withdrew from the detonation zone and launched upward with the others. Four lines of Nan-Ooze stretched as the team shot away from the ship. Then the skinnywires snapped taut as they reached the maximum height.

“Cubes align,” Mazer said, giving the order for the activated cubes to recognize each other, the last step before deploying the weapon.

To Mazer's horror, however, only three of the four cubes emitted a green go light.

“Cubes align,” Mazer repeated.

Nothing changed. One cube was nonresponsive.

Mazer opened a radio frequency. “Control, this is Captain Rackham. We have a faulty cube here. Request permission to abort test, over.”

The technician's voice crackled back over the radio. “Captain, this is Control. Your request is denied. Proceed to contingency Beta. Over.”

Mazer frowned, furious, then he pushed his frustration aside and refocused himself.

There was a chance that one of the four team members would be killed in action or lost in transit, or that a cube would somehow prove defective, so a contingency had been created in the mission plan. The three remaining cubes would form a single triangle instead of four overlapping triangles. The tidal forces wouldn't be as strong, and the resultant breach may not be as large, but the hope was that the team could still penetrate the hull and fulfill the mission.

Mazer glanced at the others. “Cubes, engage contingency Beta. Authorization Captain Rackham.”

The visual on his HUD told him the three cubes had realigned and were ready.

“Deploy,” said Mazer.

A force punched through the steel-reinforced hull as if it were thin aluminum, ripping jagged sections of the hull inward and sending cracks in every direction, as if the entire ship were about to crumble. A half second later the ship rocked to one side as the center of the breach widened unevenly, consuming one cube of the GD and then another, ripping, tearing, caving inward. Mazer spun, yanked to the right by his tether, slamming into someone, he didn't know who.

A scream of pain in his earpiece. Shrapnel flew around him, whizzing by his visor. He spun, disoriented, twisted in his tether line or maybe someone else's, then he slammed into the side of the ship and bounced off, arms flailing, pain shooting up his shoulder, the ship vibrating for an instant beneath him.