“Very well,” I said, still trying to figure out how I could have suddenly become a colonel.
McAvoy pulled up in his little base cart—an electrical scooter with a top speed of fifteen miles per hour. “Colonel Harris?” he asked in a voice drenched with mirth. “You’ve gone through the ranks more quickly than any soldier I have known. Weren’t you a Lieutenant last time I saw you?”
“I retired after that,” I said.
We shook hands. “Well, come on Colonel,” McAvoy said. “I thought I should roll out the red carpet for you, just in case.”
“In case of what?” I asked as I climbed into the cart.
“In case you’re on the Joint Chiefs next time I see you.” He started the cart and rolled into the service hall. “Your pal, Huang, called for you. He told me to have you call him the moment you landed.
“You heard about Gateway, right?”
I nodded.
“Bastards,” McAvoy said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Colonel?” I asked.
“Welcome back, Harris. You’ve been recalled to active service, and as a colonel. I never thought I would see a clone make colonel, but desperate times call for desperate measures.” Huang looked more tired than he had at the funeral. Dark bags had formed under his dark brown eyes. No trace of that cocky smile showed on his face.
“And the reason for this?”
“Clearance, Harris. Only officers with the rank of colonel or higher are cleared to view the information I’m going to show you. Don’t worry about the commission, I don’t want to leave you in the Corps any longer than I need to.”
Still an anti-synthetic prick, I thought to myself, but I was glad the change was not permanent.
“I don’t suppose you can guess how long the siege on Gateway Outpost lasted?” Huang asked.
I took a moment to think about this. “I watched the feed,” I said. “It was fast.”
“Real fast,” Huang agreed. “No guesses?”
“No,” I said.
“Eight minutes,” he said, a disapproving expression on his face. “Almost to the second.”
“I must be missing something,” I said as I tried to figure out why he mentioned this.
“Shit, Harris! You’re supposed to be bright.” Huang no longer looked tired or disappointed. Now he looked disgusted. His eyes closed to slits. He put a hand to his temple, brushing aside the short brown hair.
I thought quickly. What was so important about eight minutes? It showed a certain level of efficiency. Whoever planned the attack had done a superb job combing out the logistics.
“Eight minutes, Harris. Eight, specking minutes. Eight minutes, the amount of time it takes GCF ships to power-up and self-broadcast. You couldn’t figure that out on your own? Judas in heaven, what did Klyber see in you?”
I wanted to tell Huang to speck himself, but I agreed with him. I should have seen it. I said nothing.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the video feed of the ground attack,” Huang said. “You haven’t seen this.”
Satellite video showing the surface of Gateway appeared in my mediaLink shades. The full name of the planet was Gateway Kri—the term
The screen flashed as lightning danced across the scene. I saw the four battleships from the Galactic Central Fleet only as silhouettes against the glowing surface of the planet. Their hulls looked black as coal. They were shadows. Had the satellite not been orbiting above them, they would have been invisible against the backdrop of space. From this perspective, the ships looked like giant sharks circling their territory.
The ships had a deformed diamond shape. They were long, not wide, with blunted corners at their bow and stern. They dove down to the edge of the atmosphere and green dots flashed on the surface as the Marines down below fired cannons at them.
“Concentrated firepower, the mark of a well-trained commander,” Huang said. “All of their laser fire hit within a five-block radius. Whoever led this assault knew his tactics.”
In the bottom corner of the screen, a small window showed the Gateway outpost. Laser blasts rained down on the fort and the streets surrounding it. As the attack began, the cannons along the walls of the fort flashed like strobe lights. That cannon fire slowed as hit after hit tore into the walls of the fort.
“Now this is interesting,” Huang said. “The GCF ships appeared one minute ago to the second. In that minute, the Marine base has focused all of its weapons on the capital ships …standard procedure.”
The screen froze. What I saw was one flame. It looked no more significant than a firefly as it penetrated the atmosphere.
“That is the transport. It will take that transport precisely one minute to land.”
The little flame seemed to shrink to nothing as the transport raced down to the planet. In the small window on my screen, New Gibraltar wilted quickly. The invading ground force stormed the fort, then ran off. At six minutes, to the second, the bombs went off creating a bubble of white light that seemed to grow like a blister out of the side of the planet. The flash was clearly visible from space.
At seven minutes the transport rejoined the battleships. One minute later, the entire invasion force was gone.
“They call themselves the Hinode Fleet,” Huang said.
“Hinode?” I asked. I had heard the name Hinode before, on Ezer Kri, the planet with the large population of Japanese descent. That was what the locals called their capital city. The real name of the city was Rising Sun, or
“The Japanese population on Ezer Kri called their capital city Hinode. Do you think there is a connection?” I asked.
“I don’t want to guess,” Huang said. “That’s your job.”
“My job?” I asked.
“Yes, Colonel, your job. It came with the commission.”
“What about finding the guy …?”
“The Republic is under attack. We knew about the Mogat instigators and the Confederate Arms. We knew about the GC Fleet. You get to figure out why GCF ships are using a Japanese name.”
“Doing a little scouting before you take them on in the
“Yes,” Huang said as if answering a challenge. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking in a calmer voice. “You get me movements and capabilities on that fleet. You get me a profile on the officers commanding those ships. You help me win this war.”
“And the guy who killed Klyber?”
“Harris, once that fleet is destroyed, you can do whatever you want to Halverson. Get me what I want, and I will make you a very rich, very retired Liberator clone.”
“I’ll need help.”
“You want men?”
“One,” I said. “I have a partner.”
“Freeman,” Huang said. “I’ve heard about him.”
“He’s going to need access to whatever information you give me. And he won’t help me if it means he has to enlist.”
“Do what you need to do. Tell who you need to tell. Spend whatever money you need. I’m giving you a blank check.”
“Okay,” I said. I did not like the idea of working for Huang, but we both wanted the same thing at this moment. He wanted a clean shot at the Hinode Fleet. I wanted the men who killed Klyber. Both of us wanted Halverson.
