Page 13 of Earth Afire

A massive cluster of ships appeared in the holofield. In the center was the Formic ship, huge and imposing, like a giant red moon hurtling through space. Dozens of mining ships were matching its speed, buzzing around it like bees at a hive, firing at the Formics with everything they had, which despite their numbers, seemed woefully inadequate.

  Even at a distance Lem recognized several ships from his father's fleet, all of them armored with additional plates crudely welded to their hulls. They had apparently hastily readied themselves for war, but the added armor did nothing for them. One by one, the Formic guns picked off the ships, slinging hundreds of globules of laserized gamma plasma with perfect accuracy, vaporizing whole clusters of ships in flashes that sent debris hurtling in every direction.

  Those ships are nothing to them, Lem realized. We're gnats. Mild annoyances. Easily pushed away, barely worth the effort.

  As Lem and Benyawe watched, ship after ship broke apart into nothing, spilling their innards and crew into space. Most of the debris vanished as it moved out in every direction, but some of it continued forward in the direction the ship had been moving, carried by inertia as if it refused to accept it was dead and leave the fight.

  Other pieces of debris were caught in an invisible field behind the Formic ship and pulled along, as if a giant magnet at the rear of the Formic ship caused the debris to change course and follow the ship.

  The surviving ships pressed on, undeterred, firing relentlessly, pounding away at the Formics with everything in their arsenal. The outcome was always the same. Death, death, death. In moments, the hive of bees was diminishing, thinning out, leaving only a few persistent ships. Don't you see it's useless? Lem wanted to scream at them. Don't you see you're going to die? You're not even damaging them. Pull away. Dying accomplishes nothing.

  But the ships in the holofield ignored him, firing and hammering away. It was pathetic now. A mere handful of ships remained. And then in a flurry of Formic fire, they were gone, leaving nothing but the Formic ship itself, unscathed and unflinching, silent once again as it bored through space like a bullet toward Earth, dragging a line of wreckage behind it.

  The vid stopped.

  Benyawe wiped at her eyes.

  And to Lem's surprise, he realized that his own eyes were wet as well. He wiped at them quickly, furious with himself.

  Fools, he thought. They had all been fools. Why had they persisted? Why had they wasted it all? Didn't they see they weren't making a dent? Didn't they know their loved ones on Earth would be devastated?

  Of course they knew, he realized. It was their loved ones on Earth that had driven them. That's what had kept them in the fight, a desperation to save those back home.

  I could have done the same, he thought. I could've stayed in the fight as well when we confronted them. But I didn't. I ran. I scurried away like a frightened mouse. Does that make me the wise man or the greater fool?

  "I need to get word to my father," he said. "Laserlines aren't getting through, but we need to send something, anything. And we need to send it repeatedly, nonstop, a continuous broadcast. Maybe we'll hit a pocket where the interference is thin. Maybe someone will hear us and relay it through. Maybe it won't work, but we have to try."

  He waited for her to respond, to say something, anything.

  Finally when she spoke, her voice was trembling. "What will they do when they reach Earth, Lem?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know. But they won't do it for long. I'm going to destroy it. With or without my father's help, I am going to destroy it."

  CHAPTER 9

  Announcement

  Victor stepped through the doorway and into the small furnished apartment. It was a company suite, located underground in Juke's tunnel system and normally reserved for employees from Earth when they visited corporate headquarters. The lights came on, and an image of the Imbrium skyline at night appeared on the wall where a window should be.

  "Someone will bring you your meals," said Simona. "If you get hungry before then, there's a kitchenette and a fully stocked pantry. Help yourself."

  "What about Imala? Are you putting her up somewhere as well? She can't go back to her apartment. She helped me escape. The authorities might be looking for her."

  "You needn't worry about Ms. Bootstamp. Mr. Jukes will provide for her. The police won't be a problem."

  "Meaning what? Ukko controls the police?"

  Simona ignored the question. "I'll bring you some fresh clothes. Stay presentable and keep the room neat. You'll probably have visitors."

  "Who?"

  "Specialists. Scientists. People with questions."

  "I told you everything I know."

  "Mr. Jukes will want to verify your claims with his own people."

  "Prescott and Yanyu are already working on that."

  "Mr. Jukes has specialists in all fields. He'll want many of them to talk to you."

  "Every moment counts," said Victor. "Why is everyone dragging their feet on this? Did I not make it clear what's at stake here? Militaries need time to prepare."

  "Mr. Jukes is an intelligent man, Victor. I assure you he knows what he's doing."

  Victor shook his head. More delays. More inaction.

  Simona stepped back out into the hallway. "This door will remain locked at all times. If you need anything, use the holopad there on the nightstand. Someone will assist you."

  "So I'm a prisoner here?"

  "We're keeping you here for your own safety. The LTD doesn't know you're here, and we want to keep it that way." She punched the code into the wall and sealed the door without another word.

  That evening a group of technicians came and administered a lie detector test. Victor didn't object; he had nothing to hide. Once they had all the patches and sensors on him, however, he began to worry that the machine would misinterpret his brain activity somehow and conclude he was deceiving them. Then he feared that all the anxiety he felt over this possibility would skew the results even further. When the machine finished, the technicians said nothing and packed up the equipment.

  "What were the results?" he asked.

  "Don't know," said the tech. "We administer the test. Someone else reads it."

  The test must have strengthened his case because the next morning small groups of people began visiting him every hour. Engineers. Psychologists. Biologists. Victor answered their questions as best as he could, though more often than not he had no answer to give. No, he hadn't seen the ship up close. No, he didn't know how many hormigas were inside.

  He could tell many of them were skeptical. They listened intently and took studious notes, but some had a hard time hiding their disbelief and disdain. A few of them returned for a second, third, and fourth time, repeating the same questions over and over again.

  By the fourth day Victor was losing his patience. "I've already answered these questions multiple times," he told them. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to catch me in a lie. You're throwing in details I didn't give you to see if I'll notice or change my story. You're desperately looking for signs of deception because some of you are so pompous and wrapped up in your own self-importance that you can't accept the fact that a man without all your college degrees could possibly know something you don't."

  Some of the scientists laughed. Others scoffed and stormed out. Victor didn't care. He preferred to be alone anyway.

  On the fifth day it happened. Simona came to the apartment with Imala, who was so relieved to see Victor that she embraced him. "They've been drilling me for days," she said. "I can only assume you were getting the same." She smiled at him. "They found it, Victor. Prescott and Yanyu found it."

  Simona set her holopad on the table and extended the bars in the corners. A live news broadcast projected in the field. Ukko stood at a lectern crested with the Juke corporate logo. Behind him, clustered together, was a crowd of people, most of whom had come to Victor's apartment in the past few days. Prescott was among them, as was Yanyu.

  "Ladies and gentlemen of the press
," said Ukko. "Citizens of Earth and Luna. We are not alone in the universe."

  Victor felt a weight lift. In that one sentence, his task was complete. The burden was someone else's now. He was free.

  Cameras flashed as Ukko continued. "An intelligent and hostile alien species is at this moment approaching Earth in a ship unlike anything we've ever seen." He gestured to his left, where a holofield resided above a platform. The alien ship appeared, suspended in space. "This holo and others I supplied to STASA this morning leave no doubt in my mind that our planet is in grave danger." The alien ship minimized, and Yanyu's wreckage from the Belt appeared. "Dedicated members of my staff have discovered evidence that this alien vessel is responsible for the destruction of an unknown number of mining vessels in the Asteroid Belt and beyond. We fear the loss of human life may already be in the thousands. We can also prove definitively that this alien ship is the cause of the communications interference that has crippled space commerce for months. My team is tracking the ship as we speak, and if its current rate of deceleration continues, it will reach Earth in approximately eleven days."

  There were murmurs from the media.

  Ukko signaled them to quiet. "We must do all in our power to remain calm and prevent a worldwide panic. I call upon all governments of Earth to convene an emergency summit at the United Nations so that immediate precautionary measures can be taken. And I vow that Juke Limited will continue to do everything in its power to keep the world informed and to assist in whatever preparations will be made. I'll now turn the microphone over to members of my team who will take you through the evidence and answer all of your questions." He stepped away from the lectern, and gestured to Prescott, who came forward and introduced himself.

  "It's running on every feed," said Simona, who was tapping at her wrist pad.

  "Our investigation began," said Prescott, "when we initiated an analysis of purported evidence uploaded onto the nets concerning an alleged alien vessel. Much of this evidence was dismissed by members of the press, but our team of researchers continued to analyze it nonetheless."

  It was a bold statement to make. Yet Victor saw the wisdom of it. The world would want to place blame; people would be angry. They'd demand to know why they hadn't been told sooner and why they had been given so little time to prepare. By subtly slapping the media on the wrist, Ukko was doing preemptive damage control and deflecting any blame from himself.

  The press conference went on for an hour, with various members of Ukko's team taking the microphone to present evidence and answer questions. Victor and Imala watched the subsequent news coverage as anchors regurgitated Ukko's announcement. There were rumors that the director of STASA was preparing a statement. The president of the U.S. had called a press conference. The Politburo in Beijing was deliberating. The secretary-general of the United Nations would be making a statement shortly. Eventually Victor turned off the broadcast, and the room went silent.

  "What's going to happen now?" he asked Simona.

  "The U.N. will hold its summit. STASA will spring into action. Nations of the world will pledge their support, and every politician with a spark of intelligence and an eye on the next election will scramble to praise Mr. Jukes and his team."

  "What about the ship?" Victor asked. "Will they ready a fleet to destroy it?"

  Simona shrugged. "Too early to say. What matters is that it's not your problem anymore. You two are free to go. As of right now, your services with Juke Limited are no longer required. Mr. Jukes wishes to express his deep gratitude for your tireless assistance, and as a token of his thanks he is giving you the use of a Juke shuttle to fly you to Midway station. You'll return the shuttle there and secure your own passage out to the Kuiper Belt."

  Victor couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're giving me a shuttle?"

  "On loan. To get you to Midway. You said yourself you wanted to find your family."

  "Yes but ... what's the catch?"

  "No catch. Mr. Jukes recognizes the sacrifices you've made, and he is all too eager to return the favor and reunite you with your family. I'm to take you both to the dock immediately."

  "Both of us?" said Victor.

  "Imala will be accompanying you. She'll pilot the shuttle. It's not a ship you're familiar with."

  Victor looked at Imala and saw at once from her expression that she had already agreed to this. "How can you possibly consider this?" he asked. "Your career. Your family. You don't want to come with me. It's a six-, seven-month trip to Midway."

  "They asked me," said Imala. "It's the least I could do after everything you've done for us. You shouldn't be traveling alone."

  "But I don't have to travel alone," said Victor. "A ship to myself is generous, but it's unnecessary. Surely there are still transports leaving for the Belt. And if not, there will be now. A lot of people will want to get as far away from Earth and Luna as possible until this is over. Why not put me on one of those ships and be done with it? Why give me a whole shuttle?"

  "Mr. Jukes wants you riding in comfort," said Simona. "Money is no object."

  Victor didn't know what to say. A shuttle. All the way to Midway. For free. It was more than he could have asked for. It was too good to be true.

  And then he realized it was too good to be true.

  "Ukko isn't doing this out of generosity," he said. "He's doing it to get rid of me. That's what this is. He keeps me here under house arrest and then he ships me out as soon as the announcement is made? On a shuttle with just Imala? Away from anyone I might relay my story to? This isn't a gift. It's a muzzle. He doesn't want me talking to anyone, especially the press. He doesn't want me telling them that his son is a murderer. He's protecting Lem by making me disappear. Tell me if I'm getting warm here."

  "Or perhaps Mr. Jukes is genuinely grateful and you've misjudged him," said Simona.

  "Oh yes, I've misjudged the man who has been attacking families like mine for decades, the man who called me a heathen and threatened me and kept me as a prisoner--"

  "Who protected you from the authorities," Simona corrected.

  "For his own gain! Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to believe that Ukko Jukes would do anything out of the goodness of his own heart?"

  "Victor," said Imala. "Think for a moment. Does it really matter what Ukko's motivations are? You're getting a shuttle back to your family. You're getting out. That's what's important."

  He rounded on her. "You're siding with them?"

  "I'm not siding with anyone. I'm thinking of your interests. So what if Ukko wants to protect his son? Fine. Don't make it your concern."

  "It is my concern. It most definitely is my concern. Lem killed my uncle."

  "And what are you going to do about it?" asked Imala. "Go to the police? Press charges? There's a warrant out for your arrest. And even if the police listened to you, which they wouldn't, do you think you have a legal leg to stand on? You have no corpse. No proof. No other witnesses. Do you think Ukko doesn't employ the most powerful legal army in the world? Do you think he would stand by while you made these accusations? He owns this city, Victor. He owns all of Luna. Probably judges as well. I'm telling you now, as someone who knows, if you go to war on this, you will lose. It's that simple."

  "What happened to you, Imala? What happened to the fire? Two weeks ago you were trying to take down the man all by yourself. Now you're tucking tail and running."

  He could see the words were like a slap to her face, and he regretted them instantly.

  Imala's eyes narrowed. "What happened? An alien ship coming to Earth, that's what happened. I don't like this any more than you do, Victor. Believe me, no one despises Ukko more than me, but this is not the way to hurt him. It will fail. The only person who would come out of this a loser would be you."

  "She's talking sense, Victor," said Simona.

  "Don't take my side," said Imala.

  "So you knew they wanted to get rid of me?" Victor asked Imala. "You knew this was their motivation? And you agreed to
it?"

  "Of course I knew. It's obvious, isn't it? And I knew you'd figure it out as well. We get what we want, Ukko gets what he wants--"

  "And Lem gets away with murder."

  "You didn't come here seeking vengeance, Victor. You came here to do a job, and that job is done."

  Victor turned to Simona. "If Ukko is doing this solely as a token of gratitude, then he would honor my request to go with a transport."

  "That's not an option," said Simona.

  Victor smiled sardonically. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

  *

  They took a skimmer to a small, private spaceport north of Imbrium, well beyond the watchful eye of the Lunar Trade Department. Imala pointed out that she had never heard of the place and didn't remember seeing it listed in any official registry at the Customs Department. Simona brushed the observation aside and assured them both the port was legal.

  The skimmer slid into a slot near the terminal entrance, and Simona led them inside. It was a narrow terminal with a dozen gates, six to a side. Other than a few technicians moving about, preparing shuttles and loading supplies, the terminal was empty.

  Simona guided them to their gate and wiped her hand in a holofield beside the gate exit. The door to the umbilical opened, and Simona led them inside.

  The shuttle was small, with most of the space dedicated to the cargo bay, which measured ten by twenty meters. Several pallets of wrapped supplies had been tied down in the center.

  "Supplies for Midway," said Simona. "Just leave them on the ship when you turn in the shuttle." She then showed them where their supplies and hammocks were located and asked Imala if she had any questions with the flight controls. Imala didn't.

  Simona extended a hand. "Then good luck to you both. I hope you find your family, Victor."

  Victor shook her hand. "Thanks. And I hope you wise up and get a new employer."

  Simona winked. "Someday perhaps. The sun to your back, Imala."

  "And to yours," said Imala.

  Simona left them then and sealed the umbilical door behind her.

  Imala buckled into the pilot's seat, entered a few commands into the console, and turned on the virtual windshield.

  Victor climbed into the copilot's seat beside her. "You sure you know how to fly this thing? I thought you were an auditor."