Gravity Wars: Nova Strike, page 21
Petty had been drinking too much recently. He knew it. It had even marred his performance with the ladies, and that had fueled his drinking even more. The excess had started to affect his weight lifting. He truly hated that.
I’m getting old.
He didn’t want to get old. He wanted to remain young, strong, and vigorous. What had he really done with his life, anyway? No, he had done plenty. He had climbed, fought, and whored. Was any of it of lasting value, though? Did that really matter in the end?
Petty raised the whiskey bottle he was holding and sipping from it. He’d nearly finished it.
At almost the same moment as the sip, there was a knock at the hatch.
“I’m not interested,” Petty shouted.
There was another dilemma bothering him: Four Orion ships were not going to defeat the three alien behemoths and the seven auxiliary vessels following them.
Orion ships were approximately the same mass as the Valiant Enforcers, but the enemy had out-fought Orion ships every time. That had been when there had only been one Enforcer together with lesser warships. The aliens knew how to fight in space. Earthmen were just learning the art.
Petty scowled.
Space war shouldn’t be that different from regular war. It was a matter of subterfuge, unity of command and overwhelming force at the critical point. Earth should have prepared a monstrous reception for the aliens. Instead, they had a weak defense at the Moon. If they lost the Moon—if that was the Valiant objective—how long until the aliens started destroying orbital stations with Moon rocks?
Huber had explained it to him before. The aliens needed space superiority, just as some old nations of Earth had needed sea superiority. Great Britain, and later the United States, achieved world domination because they controlled the high seas. No other nation during those times had been able to face their domination. If they had attempted it, the challengers were crushed. Britain had crushed the Dutch and later French and Spanish fleets. The Americans had smashed the Japanese Imperial Fleet during World War II. Now the aliens were trying to crush humanity’s space force.
Despite around-the-clock preparations, the orbital space yards were not going to get the fifth Orion ship assembled in time. There was just too much to do, and Livia had transported the parts too late.
Why didn’t the World Government communicate with them anymore? Why this silence when Earth’s fate hung in the balance?
For a second time, someone hammered at the hatch.
“I said go away,” Petty shouted. “If I have to come out there…”
The knocking grew even more insistent instead of less, or stopping.
Damn it. Petty hurled the whiskey bottle at the hatch so the glass shattered. Afterward, he surged up and staggered to the hatch, pressing a button.
The hatch slid up, revealing little Huber looking up at him. The small man had been using a tool to rap the hatch. He might even have dented it.
“You’re drunk,” Huber declared.
“Why, I ought to… Petty said, making a fist and shaking it. Rumpelstiltskin—he didn’t say the name, but he recalled it and the time in the Himalayan retreat with Anwar Gray. Those had been the days. He had been strong and fit then, with the world at his feet.
“What do you want, Huber? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“May I come in?” Huber asked, as he glanced at the glass pieces on the rug.
“Why? You want to mock me? You want to see me at my worst?”
Huber said nothing more.
“Yeah, come in, come in.” Petty turned and staggered back to his chair, thumping into it. Then he glowered at Huber who stood to the side.
“You got something to tell me?”
“I do,” Huber said, “but I’m not sure you’re in the right state of mind to hear it.”
“Go on, tell me. You might as well since you’re here.”
Huber nodded. “Director Livia Drusus would like a word with you in two hours.”
“What? I’m in no condition to see her now.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Huber said, “but it’s important you speak to her. She may have finally come to her senses.”
Petty blinked owlishly. “You speak to her for me.”
Huber shook his head. “You’re the one she wants. You’re the one she fears. You’re the one she hates. You have to get it together, sir. You have to speak to her drunk, but you have to at least pretend to be sober.”
“Sober,” Petty said. He shook his head. He didn’t know how much whiskey he had drunk—a lot.
“Sir, if you continue to indulge like this…”
“What are you trying to tell me, Rumpelstiltskin?”
For a moment, Huber stiffened, then he chuckled and shook it off. “This isn’t about me, but I think whatever Livia has to say, you’re going to have to bargain sharply. You’re going to have to do what you did with Chavez.”
“Get on my knees, hold her hand, and make my presence known,” Petty said, slurring his words.
“Something like that,” Huber said.
“I don’t know why Livia wants to talk now all of a sudden.”
“I can listen to the side and help you,” Huber suggested.
“Yes, yes. Good idea.” Petty heaved himself upright. “Let’s get to it then.”
“You have two hours to get ready. I’d say do whatever you can to get at least a little bit sober.”
“Water,” Petty said. “I’ve got to drink a lot of water, a lot of water, and start pissing the alcohol out of me. What do you think about that, Dr. Huber?”
Huber nodded, not saying what he really thought of the idea.
-2-
Petty had drunk so much water that he felt bloated. He didn’t really feel any more sober, though. He was drunk, but he wasn’t blackout drunk or out-of-his-mind drunk. Besides, he had handled situations before when he was drunk. He could do it again.
One of his secretaries combed his hair. He had showered and eaten. It felt like he needed a drink to get himself ready to talk to Livia. However, the others with him would probably not appreciate that. Where had it gone wrong? Where had he started to go downhill? Maybe he needed to gather all his space marines and make one mass landing wherever Livia was, kill her, and see what happened.
“Sir, we’re almost ready,” Huber said from the side.
Petty blinked several times. They were in his office, the desk cleared, and the screen ready for him.
He needed to pay attention, concentrate. He needed to get it together. Then someone was counting down and the screen came on.
There was Director Drusus staring at him. She looked gaunter than he remembered. She looked like a scarecrow. Was she dieting, trying to make herself skinny? Trying to make herself beautiful again? Maybe she had her own hang-ups.
“If you cannot answer me,” Livia said, “then this connection is not worth my time and effort.”
Petty shook his head. “Excuse me. I was woolgathering.” He had no idea what she had been saying. Oh boy, this was a fine time…
Petty hiccupped, raised a hand for a ‘just a moment’ gesture, turned his head, and belched. Then he lifted his leg and gave a resounding fart. He looked up and saw that Livia’s face had twisted with disgust.
“What is the meaning of this boorish behavior?” she demanded. “Are you trying to give a not-so-subtle signal?”
“No,” Petty said. “I feel sick. I ask that you excuse some of my inane gestures and boorish behavior. Yes, that’s what you called it, correct?”
Livia leaned forward. “Are you well?”
“Perfectly,” Petty said, slurring the word some.
“You’re drunk.”
“No, no. No, no.” He waggled a finger at her. “I may give the appearance of that, but I assure you it is not so.”
“What is going on in orbital space? Are you still the CEO up there?”
“Of course I am,” Petty almost shouted. Then he noticed that those around him—Huber, his secretary, and a tech expert—looked at him aghast. That did something. Petty did not like anybody looking at him aghast. He almost lurched up and ripped off his black suit and tie, ripped off his shirt, and then he would flex. Maybe he wasn’t what he used to be, but he could still take everybody on this station.
“This is really too much,” Livia said. “I cannot understand your behavior.”
“No, no,” Petty said. “You called me, and I dropped everything that I was doing. You have no idea what I was doing.”
“I have a good idea,” she said.
“Now, I’ve been thinking,” Petty said. “The situation is bad. I’m not going to sugar coat this in order to show that I’m strong. Four Orion ships, a minimal defense on the dark side, more on the near… The aliens have beaten us before. I need more, Director. Can you give me more? You gave me the Orion ship, and I appreciate that. We all do. In fact, I’ve upheld my part of the bargain. Chavez has stopped all NWC intrigues in the remaining islands under World Government control.”
“That’s a lie,” Livia said.
“It is not a lie,” Petty said. “I tell you this, I tell you this…” Then it came to him what he should say. He put both hands on the desk, and he concentrated on Livia. She wasn’t half bad looking, maybe too skinny for his tastes. But for an old woman, why, maybe a roll in the hay would settle her down.
“What are you grinning at?” Livia said, outraged.
“I have a proposal to make,” Petty said, “and it is an important proposal, so I hope you are paying strict attention.”
Her eyes narrowed as two spots of color appeared, one on each cheek.
Huber cleared his throat and made a violent head shake.
Petty ignored it. He ignored the look of stunned horror on his secretary and the technician. He leaned toward the screen.
“What we need are some of those Guardian III missiles of yours,” Petty said. “It’s the only thing you have worth a damn.”
“You’re wrong,” Livia said. “If we launch the space missiles, they will reach the Moon through velocity alone. The aliens will shoot them down.”
“No,” Petty said. “Hear my proposal first before you tell me that. Now, take those Guardian III missiles apart, and send up the pieces on the laser launch systems. Send as many as you can within the next three weeks. This is an emergency. Use everything, everybody that you can. We will stop assembling the Orion ship and reassemble the Guardian IIIs. The missiles will begin from space and have plenty of fuel for a short journey to the Moon—maybe using half their supply to get there. Right, get there in a day and a half, maybe three days. We will follow them with the Orion ships. Then, at the right moment, the precise moment, I’ll need their codes, of course, or Admiral Tojo will. We will use the Guardian IIIs to help in the overall engagement against the aliens. That will give us greater mass. That will give us some big damn missiles, those Guardian IIIs. Yeah, they’re big and they have a huge punch. Why, send us up a thousand of them.”
“A thousand?” Livia said. “Are you mad?”
“Maybe I am.”
“…Perhaps I can send up fifty,” Livia said.
“Make it seven hundred.”
Livia stared at him. “I don’t know if you just thought this up, but it is a good idea. We will aim for four hundred.”
“Four hundred,” Petty said, swaying slightly in the chair.
“During the next few weeks, while the enemy brakes—depending on how much time this takes—we will send up more,” Livia said. “First, though, I need to know what you will give me in return.”
“Ah,” Petty said, raising a finger, looking at her knowingly. “That’s the catch. That’s the prime in the pump, I tell you.”
Livia looked disgusted again.
So did Huber.
“Okay, okay,” Petty said. “Here’s what I’m proposing. I will officially recognize your control of all your remaining islands, all your remaining territory, in fact. I will officially declare that I stand in full support of the World Government authority over those islands.”
Livia gave him a searching look. “You swear to this?”
“Absolutely I do.”
“But what if they continue?” Livia asked.
“You mean the New World Conglomerate engaging in espionage activities, helping rebels?”
“Exactly,” Livia said.
“Why then, I will help you stop their agitators,” Petty said.
Now, Livia gave him a shrewd study.
From the side, small Huber looked at him with frank amazement.
“I agree,” Livia said.
“On the proviso,” Petty said, wagging a finger, “that you can give me four hundred Guardian III missiles in time.”
“Yes,” Livia said. “I agree.”
“Then so do I,” Petty said.
They spoke a little longer until the connection ended.
Petty sat back against his chair and closed his eyes. Soon, he felt someone tugging at a sleeve. He opened his eyes, and there was Huber.
“Sir?” Huber said.
“What?” Petty said. He was getting sleepy.
“That was either one of the most brilliant things you have ever done, or you have just embroiled us in a mess.”
“Whatever,” Petty said. “All that matters is the moment… this moment. We need as much mass and firepower as we can get. If I have to make a few promises… I most certainly will. I need to talk to Chavez next. It’s time for her to cease all agitation against the World Government and concentrate on the coming battle.”
“Good idea,” Huber said. “Maybe we can finagle some Guardian IIIs from her as well.”
“Great,” Petty said.
A minute later, the CEO was snoring, with his head lolling to the side and a dribble of spit running out of his open mouth.
Huber studied him. How was it that this blocky, lewd, over-muscled drunkard had held orbital space together all this time? Huber shrugged, then left to prepare for a call with Chavez the next day.
-3-
NEARING EARTH
JULY 2074
Naram Sin started his day by making the usual rounds. He did so under intense gravitational pressure because Marshal Baal had ordered hard braking maneuvers.
The invasion fleet had been coming in fast as Baal and Chief Marshal Assur wanted the Earthlings to believe the fleet would fly to orbital Earth for a knockdown, drag-out battle. However, the operational strategy for the assault would be quite different.
Soon, Naram Sin met with Group Leader Tiglath and they played a game of chess as they used to do at the tables.
They had both improved since the journey started, although Naram Sin had improved more. No one could touch him when it came to chess. Furthermore, it had increased his stature among those who discussed the grand tactics of the assault. Everyone looked to Naram Sin, who had become the expert, because his logic was the most incisive.
There was another reason for that. Many on the Enkidu believed chess prowess transferred directly onto military matters. The belief had grown in the other ships as well.
As regard for Naram Sin rose, disregard for Marshal Baal increased. Was Baal aware of this?
It seemed likely. It was hard to keep anything secret in such close quarters for what had almost been thirteen months of travel.
After his chess victory, Naram Sin left the space marine region of the ship, soon finding Father Wolf, who wore a military uniform instead of a monk’s outfit.
The priest had become more rotund, and the uniform made it more obvious. Father Wolf now had a regular beer allotment, which meant he guzzled more beer than ever. He also accepted rations of beer as tribute to An’Kar for various religious favors for crewmembers.
Was that ethical?
It did not seem so to Naram Sin. Thus, he had lost respect for Father Wolf, particularly as the priest was one of the chief informers, causing grief for the same crewmembers that gave him beer.
The funny thing was that few had figured out Father Wolf’s real status.
Cranky Security Chief Sardu was pleased with the priest, so Father Wolf received an even larger beer supply, which had aided in his fat expansion.
Naram Sin said his hellos to Father Wolf and soon departed. He moved to a sensor station, sitting before a screen and studying one teleoptic video after another.
Today Naram Sin scanned what the humans call the dark side of the Moon. He concentrated on the missile emplacements. Despite hurried construction over the past few weeks, the number of missile sites was damnably few—seven in all.
The Earthers were making this even easier than anyone had expected. Naram Sin continued to study and then read reports. This included the latest message from Chief Marshal Assur on Titan.
Since the journey started, Assur had sent monthly missives, mainly showing how far the Voyager Akkad had been dismantled. It was a skeletal vessel now, much of it torn apart. The pieces went to the Titan Space Yard as workers constructed the newest Enforcer.
Now, everyone knew the Valiants would never leave the solar system in the Akkad. By the time the invasion fleet returned to Titan, the Akkad would be gone.
That was shortsighted. Maybe Security Chief Sardu didn’t think so. He claimed morale had solidified because of it.
Naram Sin had debated the idea with himself. With the decision and action, Chief Marshal Assur had put their collective backs to the wall. There was no fleeing the solar system now. They had to fight and win.
In that sense, the move might have been cunning, maybe even clever. Unfortunately, it might mean the end of the Valiants if the Vims showed up too soon, or if the Earthers survived.
The development troubled Naram Sin. The destruction of the Akkad meant Assur would strive to eradicate the Earthers. That was such a grim, and evil, goal.
As the chess master, as the most logical Valiant in the colony, Naram Sin understood Assur’s desire. It was logical if immoral. Was it right to exterminate an entire race? If the humans weren’t exterminated, would that mean the end of the Valiants?
