-9-
Gharlane stood in a viewing port of the Locke. He stared down at Io with its strange land patterns. Io looked like a rotten orange, with a dozen intermixing colors.
The planetoid was the most geologically active body in the Solar System, possessing over four hundred active volcanoes. Many spewed sulfur dioxide. Some of the sulfur blew more than five hundred kilometers high, drifting into space. The sulfur added to Jupiter’s magnetosphere and it created the Io plasma torus. The torus was a belt of intense radiation. It was a doughnut-shaped ring of ionized sulfur, oxygen, sodium, and chlorine, created when the neutral atoms in the ‘cloud’ surrounding Io were ionized and carried along by the Jovian magnetosphere.
Io’s largest volcanoes were over ten kilometers high. The spewed sulfur created huge umbrella-shaped, yellow plumes in the atmosphere. Pele, one of the biggest volcanoes, was named after an ancient Hawaiian goddess.
As he stood in the viewing port, Gharlane shifted his stance. He saw white streaks, meaning that patrol boats entered the slight atmosphere.
Today, the boats had two critical tasks to perform. The first was unloading cyborgs troops. Io was a harsh moon, rich in ores but deadly to life. Most of the habitats were near the hot sulfur lakes created by the constant volcanism. Company workers mined the lakes. They endured while working in heavy radiation-suits and they lived under lead shielding. Many roved over the lakes on crystal platforms, specially treated to withstand the lava-like sulfur.
The cyborgs in the descending patrol boats planned to swarm each habitat, killing any who resisted. Gharlane allowed himself the stimulation of a pleasure center, the cyborg equivalent of a smile. He would also kill those who surrendered. The Web-Mind had ordered him to eradicate all life on Io. Since the Web-Mind hadn’t told him the exact method of death, Gharlane used his initiative. He would kill using cyborg troops. In this way, he would save missiles and bombs. He would need those later against Europa and Ganymede. Athena Station was too far away to re-supply now.
Each patrol boat had a second task, and it was related to Athena Station’s distant location. The landing cyborgs had been ordered to collect radioactive material and fuel.
Gharlane shifted his head, scanning the moon. He’d taken a risk coming to Io. But it was a calculated risk. To reach the inner Galilean moon, the fleet had traveled deep into Jupiter’s gravity-well. Now the warships would have to burn hard to escape up it. The enemy position in the well could give the Jovians possible advantages. Against all reason, however, the main Jovian Fleet remained at Ganymede.
Soothing chemicals kept Gharlane’s thinking level, eliminating the need to emote. He wanted Ionian radioactive material for a tactical reason. The humans reacted badly to terror attacks. If their fleet continued to sit at a single location, then it was time to teach the Jovians another lesson elsewhere.
Gharlane’s head swiveled sharply as his eyes locked onto another white streak. The streak was minuscule compared to the moon’s surface. It showed Gharlane that another squadron of patrol boats entered the atmosphere.
Using patrol boats like this would damage some. Io’s atmosphere was weak, but it was still an atmosphere. The patrol boats were space vehicles, with a limited ability to maneuver anywhere but in vacuum.
Gharlane’s servos whined as he shrugged.
He saved his missiles for the battle with the main Jovian fleet. This would cost him the use of some patrol boats. However, he had a surprise for the Jovians that should negate the negatives here. If the main Jovian fleet remained static for another week—
Gharlane lurched closer toward the viewing port. His plasti-flesh eyebrows contorted as a flash appeared on the moon’s surface.
Gharlane turned to a scope and clicked his hand-unit. A second passed as the scope caused an image to leap into view. It showed a mushroom cloud rising from Io’s surface.
Gharlane stepped to the scope’s board and typed fast, keying information. The nuclear explosion came from Pele Platform Three. The company habitat had a Callisto Corporation number. Ah, it was the Diana-Bacchus Company, and it was first on the cyborg itinerary. Two patrol boats should have landed there.
Gharlane’s eyebrow-contortion smoothed out. It would appear the humans had used a nuclear device. Perhaps one of them had gone insane. That would mean—
Another explosion occurred elsewhere. Probability factors shifted Gharlane’s thinking. One nuclear device indicated a crazed individual. Two explosions indicated a prearranged plan.
Gharlane raised his hand-unit and chattered in high-speed binary.
In a second, he told his communications Web-team: “Abort the landings and order all patrol boats to accelerate for space. I repeat, abort all platform landings. The Ionians are defending with suicidal desperation. Probability factors indicate that they are waiting until the boats disgorge troops. Then they are igniting nuclear devices to annihilate cyborg personnel. Emergency sequencing is ordered. I repeat, abort all landings and return to low orbit.”
As Gharlane chattered at high-speed, another explosion occurred on the moon’s surface. He would have to expend missiles and gravity bombs after all. He would rain destruction from space and obliterate the humans. Then he would reorder select patrol boats down to the surface, there to hunt for survivors. The enemy had finally entered the tertiary mode of the campaign, practicing kamikaze tactics. He should have foreseen the possibility.
More chemicals entered his brainpan, soothing his unease. Without the radioactive materials….
Gharlane turned from the viewing port. He would have to adjust his strategy. On all counts, he must continue to fix the enemy’s attention on the Galilean moons. He must give the Web-Mind time to complete the planet-wrecker and gain the needed velocity. The Web-Mind needed to launch for the Inner Planets in tandem with the Saturn-strike. Nothing must be allowed to delay the master plan.
-10-
Io’s nuclear ambushes stimulated the Web-Mind to a feverish state. Orders went out and on Carme, the activity increased. Time passed as the accelerated teams worked around the cycles. The endless labor worked to death the hardiest Jovians as they stapled power cables, lugged coils and welded lines to the blast-pans.
Then the Web-Mind’s Athena Station convoy landed. Its large, black-matted stealth-capsule entered a tunnel. Carefully, the Web-Mind maneuvered the capsule into an armored chamber specially constructed for survival. Cyborgs had built these tunnels and chambers long ago, as they’d worked in secret for years. At the beginning of the stealth assault, the cyborgs had boiled onto the surface, capturing the Jovians here and attempting to complete the massive task.
The rest of the convoy vessels spilled their cargoes of cyborgs, Webbies, equipment and missiles.
Octagon found himself panting as sweat soaked the inside of his vacc-suit. In a domed chamber seething with motion, he heaved coils into place. Later, he inserted screws with a sonic drill and afterward, he loaded lifters with boxes of point-defense ammunition.
Ten hours after the convoy’s landing, the fateful hour arrived. Every patrol boat entered a hanger as everyone hurried to his or her position.
With other Webbies, Octagon strapped himself onto a long couch. The clicks of their buckles filled the room. The insertion of Web-jacks was a softer sound. It caused many to slump and twitch as they entered a pleasure state.
Elsewhere, with a dozen other labor-survivors, Nadia Pravda lay on a slat. She waited in a metal shed that had been built on a protrusion of rock. It was exposed to any stray meteor or high-speed dust-mote that happened along.