“See to it,” he ordered. “And keep monitoring the crew for any problems.”
“There was no large-scale epidemic on New Russia,” Amelia pointed out, softly. “The aliens had plenty of contact with humans there.”
James nodded, reluctantly. Terra Nova had had an epidemic, when several dozen settlers from one of the smaller nations had arrived without going through basic medical checks. It hadn’t been serious, but it had made a great many people very miserable until cures and vaccinations were shipped in from Earth. After that, the various settlements had become a great deal more careful over health checks before permitting immigration.
But Amelia was right. The aliens could have spread all kinds of diseases to New Russia’s population by now, even if they hadn’t intended to do it deliberately. It suggested that his crew would be safe. And yet, how could he take it for granted?
“Move the other bodies to the freezer,” he ordered, shortly. “We’ll hold a proper ceremony for them when we’re finally on the way home.”
And we identify all of the remaining bodies, he added, silently. Some of his crewmen were completely gone, something he suspected would raise all sorts of conspiracy theories. Had the aliens kidnapped them or had the bodies simply been vaporised? People would be arguing the question for years to come.
“Yes, sir,” the medic said.
They turned and walked out of the hatch, encountering Anderson and a team of engineers. The Chief Engineer finished issuing orders, then nodded to his Captain as his team headed down the damaged corridor towards the gash in the hull.
“Captain,” he said. “We were really quite lucky.”
James nodded. One of the missiles the point defence teams had swatted out of existence had been heading directly for the drive section. If it had detonated, the Old Lady would have been stranded, utterly at the mercy of the aliens. Losing one or two fusion cores wouldn’t be disastrous — the designers had been firm believers in multiple redundancy — but losing the entire drive section would have crippled the ship beyond repair. If that had happened, they would have had to fight to the bitter end… or try to surrender. He suspected that fighting would have been the better option.
“I know,” he said. “How quickly can you fix what you can fix?”
“We need to rebuild several parts of the ship’s power grid from scratch,” Anderson said. “Right now, our power grid is badly stressed; if they hit us again like that, we will be forced back on batteries to power large sections of the ship. I think…”
James sighed, but listened carefully. “Do it,” he said, when Anderson had finished. “We’re still deep in enemy territory.”
Kurt ached dreadfully when he stumbled out of his starfighter and staggered into the ready room. Behind him, the other pilots looked just as battered, with some of them glancing around for faces they knew they’d never see again. Kurt stripped off his flight suit as soon as he made it into the compartment, then practically dived into the shower and allowed the water to massage some of the kinks out of his body. Behind him, the younger pilots did the same.
He wondered, briefly, just how they were coping with the attack on the Old Lady. They knew — and if they hadn’t known before, they sure as hell knew it now — just how vulnerable a single starfighter was to enemy attack. But the Old Lady had seemed damn near invincible, certainly when compared to the modern carriers And yet, she’d been attacked and badly damaged. If the aliens had targeted the launching bays, they would have crippled her ability to continue the fight.
Cursing under his breath, heedless of his dignity, he stumbled out of the shower and grabbed for a towel, rubbing down his body until he was relatively dry. There were spare flight suits in the wardrobe, just waiting for pilots who needed to dress again, after a shower. His old one would need to be cleaned before he could wear it again. Behind him, he caught sight of Rose and shook his head when she met his eyes. He was too tired to do anything apart from sleep.
But it couldn’t be allowed.
“Beta and Charlie Squadrons are to use the sleep machines,” he ordered. They weren’t intact squadrons, not any longer, but there was no point in breaking them up. He didn’t have time to plot out a reconfiguration in any case. “Alpha and Gamma are to remain on alert.”
He ignored the groans from the rooks. They didn’t realise that the aliens could return to the offensive at any time, once they realised that the fleet was trying to make its escape. Not that he blamed them, really. The bigger picture was the Admiral’s responsibility. Their task was to fight the aliens and stay alive.
“No arguing, not now,” he snapped, tiredly. He suspected that half of the pilots would fall asleep very quickly, unless they took stimulants. But the stimulants came with a price tag attached. “I know; you all feel rotten and you want to sleep. I don’t blame you. But we need to remain alert for a couple of hours Once Beta and Charlie have had their naps, we’ll get some sleep too.”
He staggered over to a cushy armchair and sat down, trying to look reasonably alert. But he had the feeling it wasn’t working. If the aliens attacked, the task force was in serious trouble…
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Major,” a voice said. “Wake up!”
Charles snapped awake instantly, one hand grabbing for the pistol he’d positioned under his makeshift pillow. It was a precaution that had served him well in the past, although — in theory — the aliens shouldn’t have been able to get through the defences surrounding the FOB. But then, they’d said the same about insurgents in the Middle East. He looked around and saw one of the Rhino’s aides standing there, looking worried.
“They picked up an emergency signal from the orbiting recon platforms,” the aide said. “The Rhino demands your immediate presence.”
“Gotcha,” Charles said. He stood, then picked up his rifle and slung it over his shoulder. The Rhino had issued strict orders that everyone was to go armed at all times, no exceptions. It was another sensible precaution, Charles had decided, after months of training together. “I’m on my way.”
The Rhino was standing in front of a bank of consoles in the emergency command vehicle, smoking a cigar that smelt faintly unpleasant. Charles saluted quickly, then swore as he saw the red icons on the display. A handful of large and evidently unfriendly starships were approaching the planet at terrifying speed.
“They came out of Tramline Three,” the Rhino said, without prompting. “We don’t have a solid lock on them at this distance, but at least one of them is either a carrier or a troopship comparable to ours.”
Charles swore. “So they’re going to attack us while the fleet’s away,” he said, sourly. “Is there any word from the Admiral?”
“Nothing,” the Rhino said. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear anything for several days.”
Charles felt cold ice clench around his heart. If the aliens had launched a counterattack, they presumably had something in mind to deal with the fleet as well as the forces on the ground, perhaps an ambush in the Target Two system. Or one group of aliens might have launched a counterattack without consulting the others; it wasn’t easy to coordinate human attacks across several star systems and everything they’d seen indicated that the aliens had the same problem.
They came out of Tramline Three, he told himself. But the fleet went through Tramline Four.