through now.” His eyes locked onto Fellsworth’s. “Will it work?”
“Hmm,” Fellsworth replied, “that’s the only question that matters, of course, but before I answer, I need to check something. Can you sit tight for a moment?”
“Sure,” Michael said, mystified.
Five minutes later Fellsworth was back. “I was right,” she said, dropping into her seat. “Jaruzelska’s authorized your security clearance, but I can’t talk to you until we’ve uploaded a bomb into your neuronics.”
“A neuronics bomb?” Michael’s eyes flared wide with alarm. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope,” Fellsworth said with an emphatic shake of her head.
“But a neuronics bomb? Talk about extreme.”
“We can’t afford any leaks, so every last member of the conspiracy has one loaded.”
“That’s as may be, but if anyone puts a neuronics probe into me or I leak any information to anyone not cleared, then
“There is. Jaruzelska’s told you what we’re planning?”
“She has.”
“Well, in that case you already know too much. We need to get that bomb uploaded right away.”
“Do I have to? Jaruzelska didn’t drop dead. If you can trust her, I think you can trust me.”
“She is one of a tiny handful of exceptions. She has to be able to talk to people outside the conspiracy without her head imploding. But you won’t be doing that. You’re dead, remember?”
“Oh, yes, I am, aren’t I?”
“You are, so let’s get that bomb into your neuronics.”
Michael shivered again; he had been too close to death to want this even though he knew full well he had to do it. “Go on, then,” he said with obvious reluctance.
Uploading the bomb was the work of seconds; a few more seconds and a tiny green spot appeared in front of his eyes to confirm that he was talking to someone with the right clearance.
“You good to go?” Fellsworth asked. “See the green spot?”
“Yes,” Michael said; he licked lips that were suddenly dry.
“Remember, never give or transmit any operational information to anyone unless that green spot is showing. If it turns red, the neuronics bomb will arm; any breach of security after that and it will trash your brain, and you’ll be dead two seconds later. If it’s flashing amber, you are outside a secure facility and must talk neuronics to neuronics, nothing out loud. Got all that?”
Michael nodded; he didn’t trust himself to speak.
Fellsworth laughed. “Cheer up. You’ll get used to it, I promise.”
“I hope so.”
“Right, you asked if what we’re planning will work. Your question is actually two questions. The first is whether we can keep Juggernaut secure until we are ready to launch.”
“And can we?”
“It’s a huge ask, but yes, I think we can. As you now know, everyone involved has a neuronics bomb uploaded; all mission information is security-tagged, even the lowest of low-grade stuff; and the overall environment is very good.”
Michael shook his head. “The environment?”
“The people we work with, even if they are not part of the conspiracy.”
“Ah, you mean Jaruzelska’s psyops campaign.”
“It’s worked, a bit to my surprise. Fleet and the Marine Corps are where they need to be, not every last one of them of course, but enough to put a shell around Juggernaut that Ferrero’s people will find almost impossible to penetrate.”
“But Ferrero’s not alone in this, is she?”
“No, she’s not. The police are … well, they’re the police, so they’re being kept completely in the dark, and so are the intelligence services.”
“What about planetary defense?”
“Well, they’ve never had to fight the Hammers face to face, so they are much more equivocal. Like most Feds, they now see you as a bit of a hero, and they think Ferrero’s gone too far to keep the Hammers happy, but they’re also frightened enough not to want to rock Ferrero’s boat.”
“Which is why General Yilmaz is onboard.”
“Yes. Her first job is to convince the planetary defense brass that the Hammers are not to be trusted; her second is to persuade them to stand back and stay out of our way.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Fellsworth said, her voice flat. “They’ll stick their heads up their fat butts while Fleet and the Marine Corps take all the risks and do all the dying, but as long as that’s all they do, then that’s enough.”
Michael nodded. “Okay. Next question. Let’s assume that we can maintain operational security. What are Juggernaut’s chances of success?”
“Not good enough. The last simulation we did says we have a fifty-fifty chance of meeting our mission objectives.”
Michael blinked. “Wah!” he said softly. “That’s not good. Why?”
“Thanks to the goddamned peace treaty, the Hammers have been able to withdraw most of their fleet to home space. They are many more ships around Commitment than when you dropped dirtside with your three dreadnoughts. But we’re working on it.”
“Kat Sedova. What’s happened to her? And Cortez and Hok.”
“Sedova’s tucked away safely. We’ve relocated her to … well, let’s just say somewhere the Feds and the Hammers won’t find her.”
“Good. I was worried. Cortez and Hok. What about them?”
“They are an integral part of the Juggernaut planning team, right here in Karrigal Creek. They’re running a sim at the moment, but they’ll catch up with you as soon as they can. The admiral’s asked them to brief you on the situation back on Commitment. Now, I should get back to work. You have somewhere to get your head down?”
“I do, thanks.”
“Good. We’re doing another sim of Juggernaut tomorrow morning. Since you’re the only person who’s actually planned and executed an opposed landing on Commitment, the admiral wants you to sit in.”
“Love to.”
“08:00, Conference 4.”
“I’ll be there.”
Michael lay on his bunk and stared at the ceiling.
His mind raced as he churned through all that had happened that incredible day. He shook his head. Dead man walking one minute, alive and kicking the next. So why did he feel so disheartened? No, it was worse than that. He felt terrible, his mind blanketed with a sick, flat feeling, a feeling that everything he had done, all he had been through, all he had put Anna and his family through, none of it mattered a damn.
But he knew why. Anna; that was why. While he was out saving humankind-not that the vast majority of them knew it, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t gave a shit-she could well be lying dead in the mud back on Commitment with a bullet in her brain, yet another life wasted in the century-old battle to defeat the Hammer of Kraa.
And for all Jaruzelska’s cautious optimism that Juggernaut would succeed, Michael was not so sure. When he had ridden his dreadnoughts down to their fiery deaths on Commitment, the Hammers had been preoccupied fighting the Feds to a standstill. And nobody had ever seen an operation like his Operation Gladiator. Nobody-not the Hammers, not the Feds-would have imagined sacrificing three good ships in a Trojan horse assault the way he had.
Gladiator had succeeded, in part at least, because it had never been done before. So for all Jaruzelska’s talk of diversionary operations, surprise, weight of numbers, superior technology, and so on, the Hammers would never
