“My God,” the Pilot said, from his console. “I want one of them.”
I couldn’t disagree with him. Starship acceleration rates decrease sharply as the mass of the starship rises. The battleships the UN had wasted time and money building moved like wallowing hogs… and Devastator and her sisters weren’t much better. The nimble cruisers were still the mainstays of the fleet, and yet the Heinlein starships seemed to have them effortlessly outclassed. If I hadn’t read the reports carefully, and recognised the weaknesses inherent in their designs, I would have known that nemesis was looming.
“Hold position,” I ordered. The enemy were racing right into the teeth of our defences. I doubted that they would be doing something so stupid unless they had a plan of some kind. The Heinlein Resistance wasn’t composed of fanatics from New Kabul or Living God. They wouldn’t throw their lives away for nothing. “Keep a close eye on them and…”
I smiled inwardly as starships moved to intercept, only to be greeted with a spread of missiles from each of the interlopers. The starships twisted, spun effortlessly in space, and launched a second salvo, just before opening fresh wormholes and vanishing into them. I listened to the communications between the UN starships as they struggled to take out as many of the incoming missiles as possible, discovering for themselves how devious the Heinlein weapons-makers were. Some of the missiles had standard nuclear warheads, others had multiple missiles concealed inside the mother missile and several had specialist warheads. A bomb-pumped laser warhead gave several UN cruisers a hard time. Two more detonated near an orbital weapons platform and wiped it out of existence.
“They’re going to be back,” I said, when Muna glanced at me. I was sure of it. They wouldn’t have caused so much trouble for nothing. All they had to do was wormhole in, launch a few missiles, and vanish again, tying Earth’s defenders up in knots. They’d get away with it too. As long as they used a certain amount of caution, they’d be bound to avoid being targeted and killed. “Set our lasers on proximity trigger and power up the jump drive. Engineering?”
The Engineer sounded grim when he answered. “Yes, sir?”
“Keep the Jump Drive at maximum readiness,” I said, shortly. He argued, of course. Keeping the Jump Drive powered up like that would place a serious amount of wear and tear on the components, perhaps even risking a burnout. It might even have been what the Heinlein Resistance hoped to achieve. If they knew that their compatriots had been sabotaging our starships, they might intend to force us to burn out the components and lost starships to the yards. Could they coordinate their plans like that?
I shook my head. It didn’t seem possible. “Three new targets,” Muna said, into the silence. “Three new starships, coming in directly towards Orbit One!”
“They’re probably not new starships,” I said. The UN had been reporting that the Heinlein Resistance either had no starships or hundreds of starships, but I knew it wasn’t the former and if it had been the latter, the UN Invasion Force would never have reached Heinlein alive. They’d have been dictating terms to us, not the other way around. “Ten gets you twenty they’re the same starships with slightly altered drive patterns.”
Muna scowled down at her console. “No bet,” she said, finally. “They’re firing!”
The next hour brought us all to the verge of collapse. The attack seemed endless; they jumped in, fired off a few salvos of missiles, and jumped out again. Only a couple of starships were damaged — a dozen gunboats were destroyed — but the crews were rapidly reaching the end of their endurance. If it hadn’t been for Captain Harriman’s — and mine — insistence on endless drills, we’d have been in the same boat. As it was, we were stretched to the limit. The attacks seemed largely pointless to the Admirals — I could hear some of their chatter over the communications network — but I could see the point, all right. They intended to wear us all down and then launch their final blow.
I keyed my intercom tiredly. “Chef, have coffee served to the men on duty, including the bridge,” I ordered. Captain Harriman had banned food and drink from his bridge, except on Last Night, but I knew there was little choice. I felt tired and drained and knew that the rest of the crew probably felt the same way too. “Make up several pots of your extra-strong coffee and have it served up here.”
My gaze swept to the Ensigns. “You two go help him,” I ordered. They looked relieved to have something to do, even if it were something simple. I had a mad impulse to put one of them on the helm and the other on tactical, but pushed it back down into my mind. They weren’t ready for that, with the possible exception of Sally. Hell, she’d have been perfect, if she had Lieutenant’s rank. “Tell the remaining Ensigns to assist as well.”
They left the bridge without looking back, much to my mild surprise. When I’d been an Ensign, I had been involved in battles, but that had been a happier, more innocent time. The young officers who’d come onto my starship after I assumed command might be the last Ensigns to graduate, even if my plan didn’t work. How long could the UN maintain this kind of military effort?
“Coffee?” Muna asked, very quietly. “Do you really want hot drink on the bridge?”
I looked at her. Her black skin was shining with sweat. “I don’t think we have a choice,” I said, grimly. I envied, just for a moment, the Marines. They didn’t have to worry about battles in space. They could continue to study the plans of EarthStar One in peace. “We’re not in a good state here.”
“Neither are they,” Muna said. I watched as another missile burst open to reveal a shower of smaller missiles, which raced towards their target. “They might be in just as bad a state as we are…”
She broke off as the hatch opened and the Chef entered with a small tray of coffee in spacer’s mugs. I’d hated them when I’d first seen them — they reassembled nothing more than baby beakers — but I could see the value now. If we dropped them on the deck, they wouldn’t break and splash hot coffee everywhere. I imagined that that would be quite a distraction for my crew.
“Here you are, sir,” he said, passing me a beaker. I took it with great dignity and waited until everyone else had one before taking the first sip. It was hot enough to burn my tongue and foul enough to be used to power the starship, but it shocked me awake. Spacer’s Coffee is renowned for being the worst in the universe, which didn’t stop it from becoming the favourite drink on starships. “I’ll brew up more as soon as I return to the gallery.”
“Good,” I said, warmly. I placed the beaker down and turned back to the display. “Pilot…”
“Wormhole,” Muna snapped. “They’re coming in much closer.”
I swore. They were coming in far too close. “Fire if you get a lock,” I snapped. “Pilot, take us on a pursuit course.”
The display updated rapidly, but I was already far ahead of it. If we were lucky, we’d get a solid chance to hit them…and we had to take it. They weren’t coming right at us, but if they actually wanted to hit anything, they’d have to pass through our field of fire. My own best guess was that they would open up a wormhole and vanish as soon as they saw us, but we’d at least have a chance of hitting them…
“They’re evading,” the Pilot said.
“And firing,” Muna added. I tensed, expecting to come under attack, but the display told a different story. “They’re firing on EarthStar One!”