Alarm of War

When it crashed to the river bottom, Emily’s face cracked into the door frame. Her nose broke in an agonizing spray of blood and pain lanced all the way to the back of her skull. Black dots suddenly crowded her vision, growing larger and larger and-. Suddenly she was in the water, sputtering, coughing, then under water, choking, then she felt herself grabbed hard by the shoulders and hauled to the surface.

Pain ravaged her head and overwhelmed her senses, but she became dimly aware that people were still shouting and someone was screaming and more people came running, and only then did she realize that there were people trapped under the fallen truck.

When it was over, two soldiers — two of her beloved miners — were dead.

Sergeant Kaelin cursed. He exchanged a long look with DI Johnson. Something passed between them, then Johnson shrugged. “Fuck it, Andy. I’ll back you either way,” he told Kaelin.

Emily felt thick-headed, fuzzy. What was Johnson talking about? She looked at the two bodies laid on the shore. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she scrubbed them with the back of her hand.

“Tuttle,” Sergeant Kaelin said quietly.

She thought about the two men and wondered if they had girlfriends waiting for them. Did they-

“Emily!” Kaelin said more sharply. She looked up at him. He looked tired, she thought. He was soaked to the skin and his thinning hair was plastered to his head.

“Emily, listen, I have to call for a chopper to evacuate the casualties. If I call now, it will come within minutes, but the Major will insist that the maneuver be stopped. Do you understand?” He looked at her hard. But why was he telling her this? The men were dead, of course they had to-

And then she did understand. There was still time for her to take the convoy to the Four Corners. Still time to complete the mission. But if they called in the fatalities now, the operation would end. She shook her head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. All a game and now two men were dead forever. She looked up at Kaelin and the tears came freely now, almost invisible against her wet cheeks, but there.

“I hate this,” she said. “Gods of Our Mothers, I hate this.” Then she turned to the river and waived her arms until she caught Rafael Eitan’s attention on the far shore. Her radio was on the bottom of the river somewhere. She checked her watch and saw they still had forty minutes. She cupped her hands to her mouth.

“Go!” she shouted. “Take it to the Four Corners!”

“Come across, Emily,” he shouted back. “We’ll wait for you!”

Emily waived him away. “Go! Complete the mission. You’re running out of time.” Eitan stood for a moment, then climbed into the truck without another word and the convoy drove across the field.

Emily turned and walked to edge of the water. Men who were standing there silently moved aside. She knelt down between the two bodies. She knew them both. They were two of the men who had teased her, offered her fruit they had taken from the mess hall, kept an eye on her on some of the brutally long marches. Nodded at her in approval when she did something well. Followed her orders.

She placed a hand on each of the two dead men. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry.” The sun felt warm on her face. She closed her eyes and waited for word that Four Corners had been taken.

Chapter 11

P.D. 948

Emily’s Personal Journal

I lost two men today.

I think I will remember their faces for the rest of my life.

Chapter 12

P.D. 951

The Conspirators

On Darwin

The admirals from the Tilleke Empire, Dominion of Unified Citizenry and Cape Breton met in the same hotel in Darwin to plan the war. They all dressed in civilian clothes, but there was no mistaking what they were: men and women who had spent their lives in the military, accustomed to command. This was their third meeting, and it would be their last. After today there would be no more meetings, just a signal. A simple, coded signal to launch the greatest war in the history of the League of Human Worlds. They had given the operation a code name now, ‘Family Reunion.’

As always, Michael Hudis chaired the meeting, but said as little as possible. He was not a military man and did not pretend to know the admirals’ task better than they did. The meeting was cluttered with the warp and the woof of the fabric of war: signal codes, routes, target designations, designation of attack forces, endless logistics, and chains of command. The task of coordinating three different forces that would be fighting in at least two separate sectors was a formidable task, but that did not make it any more interesting to the civilian observer.

Finally there was a pause. “You still haven’t told us about your new weapon,” Hudis remarked to the Tilleke admiral.

The Tilleke admiral was a tall, handsome man and a member of the royal family, Hudis couldn’t remember what — a count or a duke or something.

“Nor will I now, Citizen Secretary,” the admiral replied. “It works, that is all you need know.”

“You’ve tested it then?” Hudis pressed.

The admiral nodded. “Oh, more than tested it, Citizen Secretary. We have actually used it. Just last month. The operation was quite successful. When the time comes the Vickies will be in for a nasty surprise.”

Hudis filed this away, and made a mental note to review the news for reports of missing ships within the last sixty days. “Your Emperor realizes that during the next few months the public statements of the Dominion will be increasingly hostile and belligerent towards the Tilleke Empire?”

“Yes, yes, we’ve been through this before,” the Tilleke admiral said impatiently. “We have no doubt the Vickies will believe every word of it. Arrogant fools.”

“You should be thankful the Vickies are so arrogant,’ Hudis said. “That is how we are going to beat them.”

The admiral leaned forward. “Emperor Chalabi remains concerned that other nations might intervene at an inopportune moment. Our intelligence operatives have not discovered anything, but we acknowledge that our spy network is not as extensive as the Dominion’s.”

Hudis paused a moment while a servant entered the room to refresh their drinks. The man, goggle-eyed behind thick glasses, topped off water glasses and put out a fresh bottle of cold white wine. He fussed over the table until one of the admirals snapped at him: “That’s enough, man. Get out and don’t bother us again!” The servant bowed hastily and withdrew, apologizing as he went.

There are only three other nations of note,” Hudis continued. “Sybil Head and the Sultenic Empire will sit on the sidelines as long as there are no attacks on their principal planets. There is even some chance the Sultenics could be persuaded to side with us if we are doing well, but if things go as planned they will not have time to mobilize.

“Refuge will side with the Vickies, but we’ve known that all along. Their navy is small, however, and by the time they mobilize, the fate of Victoria will have been decided.”

The admiral frowned. “There is a fourth nation, The Light. What of them?” he queried.

Hudis barked out a short laugh. “The Light? A bunch of religious fanatics with a small navy made up of small ships. They’re not a serious threat!”

The Tilleke cocked his head thoughtfully. “Hmmm…we have had dealings with The Light. They can be