The ion pistol dropped out of Lucius’s startled fingers, clattering onto the floor. He flinched.
Robin Beard smiled at the faint sound. “Not to worry, the batteries don’t have much charge left. They should be drained by noon.” He turned on a heel and walked back to the black Merc.
A red warning flowed across Lucius’s virtual vision, telling him his connection to the unisphere had dropped out. He watched through the window as Beard put his hand on the Merc’s i-spot. He wasn’t surprised when the door opened. Less than thirty seconds later, the big sleek car slid smoothly onto the garage’s exit ramp and up into the remarkable beauty that was night on Illuminatus.
***
The day the starships were due to arrive at the star system where Hell’s Gateway was located, the navy increased its observation of the Lost23. Wilson sat in his white office reviewing the information as it came in. Anna was with him acting as communications officer; Oscar qualified for his place as senior staff officer; Rafael completed the navy contingent. Justine Burnelli was there on behalf of the Senate, sitting as far as possible from Rafael, while Patricia Kantil represented the Executive, although President Doi maintained an ultra-secure real-time link; as did Nigel Sheldon, who presumably was in touch with the other Dynasty leaders—Wilson didn’t ask. Dimitri Leopoldovich arrived a few minutes late, and took a seat next to Patricia; he ignored the cool reception he received from the navy officers.
The navy started opening wormholes above the Lost23. They were the same type that were used to communicate with the insurgency troops that were operating against Prime installations. This time, they opened a considerable distance away from the planet, several million kilometers, clear of the heavy Prime orbital defenses. Sensors slid out into spacetime, and scanned for the quantum distortion signatures of wormholes. They detected a total of eight hundred sixty-four wormholes linking the Lost23 back to the Hell’s Gateway star system.
“I thought our troops had blown up several planet-based gateways,” Patricia said.
“Twenty-seven to date,” Rafael confirmed. “On average the Primes take three days to reopen them and assemble a new gateway mechanism.”
“What are our losses?”
“A hundred seventeen reported fatalities,” Wilson said proudly. “That’s a lot better than our projected damage ratio. We’re hurting them badly.”
“We’re tying up resources,” Dimitri said. “I wouldn’t call that inflicting damage, exactly.”
Rafael gave him a very cold look.
An hour and a half before the expected attack time, seven hundred seventy-two Prime wormholes shut down.
“Holy shit!” Oscar exclaimed. He half rose from his chair, as if he could get closer to the data that the holographic portal was projecting across half the room. Wilson’s face lit up in a huge smile.
“Too early to open the champagne?” Rafael inquired lightly. He grinned at Wilson.
“We did it?” Patricia inquired delightedly.
“No,” Dimitri said firmly. He was studying the data in the big display. “There are exactly four wormholes remaining on each planet. We know the Primes use base four; so it is deliberate. They’re maintaining communications with their new colonies. Therefore they shut down the other wormholes, not us.”
“You don’t know that,” Oscar said.
“If our attack had been successful enough to knock out over seven hundred wormhole generators, it would have destroyed the remainder at the same time. This is an organized switch, not the result of a strike by Douvoir missiles.”
Wilson wanted to tell Dimitri to shut the hell up. His hopes had soared with the disappearance of the wormholes. And he needed that boost badly after the shock of realizing the navy was compromised. But what the StPetersburg strategist was saying made uncomfortable sense. Don’t shoot the messenger.
“When will we know for certain?” President Doi asked.
“Not long,” Wilson said with outward calm; it was a polite lie.
Five hours later the wormholes all reopened. A groan went around the office.
“Your interpretation?” Justine asked Dimitri.
“They beat off the attack,” the pale man said. For once he looked nervous, dabbing at the perspiration on his forehead with a handkerchief. “I did say they would use everything they could to defend the staging post.”
“So you did,” Rafael said.
“What now?” President Doi asked. She sounded confused.
“We need to find out what happened,” Wilson said.
“They beat us,” Patricia said in an angry, scared voice. An arm gestured wildly at the display. “That much is bloody obvious.”
“The technical details,” Wilson said. “How did they do it? That’s what’s important if we are to formulate a coherent response strategy.”
“It’ll be five days at the earliest before the ships get back in communications range,” Nigel said.
“If there are any ships remaining,” Dimitri said.
“Enough from you,” Rafael told him hotly.
Wilson held a hand up to his fellow admiral. “I know this is difficult—those were our friends and colleagues out there—but we have to be realistic.”
“We cannot afford five days,” Dimitri said. “Madam President, it is imperative that we arm our remaining starships with the Seattle Project quantumbuster weapons. The Prime aliens retain the ability to launch an immediate strike at us. They now have no reason to delay.”
“Yes,” Doi said. “I’ve seen your earlier recommendations. Admiral Kime?”
“Madam President.”
“We will convene a full War Cabinet by ultra-secure link in thirty minutes. Please be ready to present your plans for using the Seattle quantumbusters in defense of the Commonwealth, and any alternatives.”
“Very well, Madam President.”
“Do we release the failure of our strike against Hell’s Gateway to the media?” Justine asked.
“No,” Patricia said immediately. “We don’t know what happened. People will fear the worst, and we won’t be able to offer any details to reassure them.”
“The news shows are expecting some kind of comment.”
“Tough. We simply say we are unsure of the outcome, and we’re waiting for the starships to return.”
“They’ll know something’s wrong,” Justine said. “If the strike had worked we’d be shouting it as hard as we could.”
“We have five days until we have to admit anything is wrong,” Patricia said. “That’s enough time for me to prepare the groundwork. This had got to be handled perfectly if we’re to prevent panic.”
Wilson couldn’t bring himself to look at Oscar as everyone except Rafael and Justine left the office. Dimitri had argued that the Primes would work out a counter to the Douvoir missiles because they already knew humans were capable of such an application. What if they were told, given exact details? I knew we’d been compromised, and I did nothing. All for fear of looking foolish.
“Just so both of you know,” he told Rafael and Justine, “I’m going to recommend we deploy the quantumbusters as Dimitri suggested.” And pray we maintained some kind of integrity with their development.
“That little shit,” Rafael grunted.
“He’s always been right,” Wilson said. “And he’s only doing his job. Damnit, if we’d listened to him and equipped the starships with quantumbusters to attack Hell’s Gateway we might not be in this position.”