“Several mining craft have jumped out already,” the tactical officer said. Mandell scowled, but he couldn’t blame them. They hadn’t signed up to face the Killers and their little craft wouldn’t even scratch their paint. “The others are complying.”
“The Docking Master is reporting that almost every starship in the system is either requesting permission to depart or attempting to depart without permission,” the local system officer added. “There’s panic sweeping the asteroids.”
Mandell took a breath. The Asimov System was nothing, but asteroids; there were thousands upon thousands of asteroids circling the dull red star. No one was quite sure why they hadn’t collapsed into planets thousands of years ago, but it suited the human settlers just fine. There were hundreds of asteroid colonies scattered throughout the system and over five billion human lives… all of which were at risk. They all needed to be evacuated before the Killers arrived, yet he could see no way to move them all. It would have been impossible even with the entire Defence Force fleet of starships, let alone the few hundred he had in the system.
“All right,” he said. “Open a channel into the asteroid public announcement system.”
“Channel open, sir,” the communications officer said. “You may speak when ready.”
Mandell smiled bitterly. “This is Captain Mandell,” he said, keeping his voice as calm as possible. “There is a Killer fleet approaching this system. I am hereby declaring martial law over the entire system and commencing evacuation procedures. I want everyone to report in to their local processors if they wish to be evacuated and further instructions will be issued. Any panic or violence will be quelled with as much force as is necessary.”
He drew one finger over his throat and the channel cut. “The Local Government isn’t going to be happy about that,” the tactical officer muttered. “They’re going to want to handle the evacuation themselves.”
“They can have me court-martialled if we survive this day,” Mandell snapped, angrily. One Killer starship would be beyond their ability to handle. Five Killer starships were massive overkill. The handful of actual warships in the system would barely be able to slow them down; hell, the Killers could just ignore them and keep burning into the system. “Gunn?”
“Here, sir,” the AI said. Gunn was one of the oldest AIs in existence and claimed to have developed a sense of humour. Everyone else, including other AIs, doubted it. AI attempts to understand human jokes had rarely succeeded. “Where else would I be?”
“Link into the local processors, emergency priority, and start assigning berths for evacuation,” Mandell ordered. “Follow the emergency protocols and push life support on all starships to the limit. I want you to get as many people out as possible. Dump the local MassMind nodes onto the network and snap everyone in the VR worlds out of it; they have to know what’s going on.”
“That would be inadvisable,” Gunn pointed out. “Community Medical Regulations clearly state…”
“Override,” Mandell snapped. The AI was correct — breaking a person out of a VR world would cause massive disorientation, at best — but the alternative was to leave them to die. A treacherous part of his mind wondered if that might not be the best solution — they’d die in their personal heavens, with no awareness of the fate that was about to befall them — but his oath forbade it. “Wake them up and brief them, now.”
He turned away from the AI console, trusting it to handle the task, and looked down at the coordination officer. “Inform the starship commanders that I’m commandeering their vessels for the evacuation effort, centred on the main cluster, and they will dump their holds and take on as many evacuees as possible,” he ordered. “Inform them, in addition, that any attempt to jump the gun and flee without taking on a full load will result in them being engaged by the defences and destroyed.”
The coordination officer worked his console. “They’re pissed, sir,” he reported, with a trace of gallows humour. Evacuation or no evacuation, the Defence Force personnel would remain at their posts. “They’re already filing protests about your orders to everyone who will listen.”
“Never mind,” Mandell said. He could understand their position — the starships represented, even for the Community, a considerable personal investment and real wealth — but he wanted to save as many people as possible. “The Admiral may permit them to bring charges later, but at least they will be alive to bring the charges.”
He turned back to the main display. The Killer starships were closing in on the first mining station, an unnamed asteroid housing a single man and a team of robots. It didn’t matter to anyone, but the miner, yet the Killers targeted it anyway. Streaks of white light tore from their starships and blew the asteroid into a boiling storm of energy. The remaining mining craft pulled back and jumped out as one, escaping the juggernauts bearing down on them.
“I have completed my evacuation plan,” Gunn said, diffidently. “Sir, assuming that the current situation does not change, we will be unable to evacuate more than five million people from the main cluster before the Killers open fire.”
“That well?” Mandell asked. There were so many bottlenecks in getting people out onto the starships, let alone into space and away from the targeted asteroids, that he’d be surprised if they got half that many out. “Don’t hesitate. Start issuing the orders now and move them out as fast as possible.”
“Aye, sir,” the AI said.
“I’ve got Captain Jeff Zeitlin for you,” the communications officer said. “He wants a word with you.”
“Patch him through,” Mandell ordered. “Jeff. What can I do for you?”
“My squadron intends to attempt to delay them,” Zeitlin said, firmly. “We’ll buy you time to evacuate the cluster.”
Mandell shook his head. “I can’t allow that, Jeff,” he said, grimly. “You and your squadron will be destroyed, for nothing.”
“We have to try,” Zeitlin snapped back. “How can we stand by and watch as the Asimov System is torn apart? If we can delay them and win you even a handful more minutes, it would mean the difference between life and death for thousands of people. We have to try!”
“I know,” Mandell said. He ran one hand through his hair, tiredly. He felt as if he had aged a thousand years overnight. “Good luck.”
“We have to get out of here,” Captain Basil snapped. “You don’t understand!”
“And I’m telling you that we are waiting for the evacuees to board,” Private Ron Friedman replied, tiredly. The pair of Footsoldiers wore their full combat armour and carried their weapons in their hands, but both of them knew how tiny they were compared to the advancing Killer starships. The Killers wouldn’t be intimidated by the black armour… and their advance meant that it was losing its power to intimidate Basil and his family. “Please, sir; be patient.”
Basil glared at him. He was an overweight man in a galaxy where such conditions could be corrected easily; Friedman wasn’t sure if his refusal to do so was a result of religious conviction or simple laziness. It would be easy to sympathise with the man — the Family Farm was the only thing he had, apart from his family — but the Footsoldiers had their orders. No starship was leaving the asteroid cluster without a full complement of evacuees.
“And where,” Basil’s wife demanded, “are we going to put them? They’re going to mess up my nice clean ship!”
Friedman counted to ten under his breath. Basil’s wife was almost the polar opposite of her husband; she’d been through so many different cosmetic procedures that she looked almost stretched. She was inhumanly thin, almost a stick, without any sign of breasts or thighs. Friedman knew a moment of sympathy for Basil — in his place, he would have divorced the stupid cow without a second thought — but buried it quickly. The man was talking about abandoning women and children, after all, and there was little that was more reprehensible.