rose from her chair and scanned her command team.
“I am proud to have served with you. I wish you luck getting through to the escape pods.”
“Join us, Admiral,” said the First Gunner.
“I am old.” Admiral Sioux hefted her las-rifle. “But not too old to aim and fire.”
She limped to the sealed door, voice-activated the lock and watched it slide open. Deep from in the
None of her officers dared look her in the eye.
She nodded and limped into the dark corridor of her beamship.
22.
Earth—New Baghdad
General Hawthorne cleared his throat, nodded to the holo-director that signaled him and peered into the camera. He sat at a desk, with small SU flags on either side of him. Behind him was a space map of the four Inner Planets and with the Social Unity Logo of four hands one atop the other interposed as background. His military hat was cocked at the angle he felt portrayed confidence and a dash of genius. His bony fingers were folded atop the desk.
A recorded voice spoke: “Citizens of the Four Planets, of Mars, Earth, Venus and Mercury, I give you Social Unity’s Supreme Commander, General James Hawthorne.” Martial music played. As the music winded down:
Hawthorne nodded at the camera as he saw the red recording light blink. “Good evening, dear citizens. It is with a heavy heart that I come to you tonight. Let me hastily add that not with a heart bowed with defeat or despair. Rather, I wish to… undo or unsay some of the words spoken to you earlier this year. This has been a year of great tragedy, as I know that you are all aware. The Highborn have brutally invaded the Four Planets and slain many that otherwise would have lived long and useful lives. The words that must be unsaid are those in the past year spoken in haste and fear. Namely, that this is a short war.
“In their love for the people of the Four Planets the former Directors believed the truth should remain hidden. They felt it was better to forge the tools to defeat the enemy and let you go on with your lives in peace. But the Highborn are not easily beaten. They are vicious soldiers, merciless and savage, and let me add, brilliant soldiers who plot well-laid plans. The Directors of many years gone designed the Highborn to be such soldiers. Alas, treachery infected the Highborn and they turned on us all.
“As Supreme Commander I have led the fight against the Highborn. I have witnessed both defeat and victory against our wily foe. I saw what many of you haven’t. That despite our various defeats victory is inevitable. But victory will not come cheaply or quickly. Knowing this, my heart was still troubled because I saw that many of the Directors lacked faith in you, the people of Social Unity. So I came to New Baghdad to speak with Madam Director Blanche-Aster. Ah, her nobility encouraged me to speak plainly with her, even as I saw that the many burdens had worn her down to less than her former greatness. She agreed with me and suggested that in this dark hour that I take the reins of authority and guide the Four Planets.
“I refused. I am a fighting man, not a politician. But she argued that now is the not the time for politics but for rolling up our sleeves, picking up our guns and fighting. ‘Guide us,’ she pleaded. ‘Help me show the other Directors that we must go to the people and tell them the bitter truth.’ I finally agreed, with the proviso that she would remain by my side to help me. She reluctantly agreed, as age has stolen so much of her vigor. Yet I am grateful for her help she can give.
“This is why I have come to you tonight, my dear citizens. As Supreme Commander, I beg for your help and your understanding. In the coming days we will continue to take heavy losses. The Highborn are too powerful for it to be otherwise and they have infected their treachery into too many who should have known better. Yet Social Unity is stronger than mere fighting prowess and without a doubt stronger than base treachery. Our great hearts beat too purely for it to be otherwise. Millions of you will enlist in the armies that push the invaders from Earth. Others will join Space Defense and search and destroy the Doom Stars in our new and improved battle and beamships, while many millions will work overtime in order to build the weapons we need to defeat the so-called Supremacists.
“Citizens of the Four Planets, not all my news is gloomy or about the hardships to come. The Highborn are mighty but they are not invincible. As Supreme Commander, I ordered a space attack on the Sun Works Factory around Mercury. The Ring-factory has become Highborn Central, their processing plant and manufacturing yard. We hit it savagely with our latest beamship, the
“Many of you have been heard to ask: ‘Where are our space fleets?’ I shall tell you where: Hitting the enemy! Striking him ruthlessly and making him quake with fear! We will go on hitting him until he is defeated. We shall never surrender. Not as long as your hearts are true and as you realize that together, in our united unity, that we shall overcome.
“Thank you, my dear citizens, my fellow cardholders, good night, and may the creative force of our wills continue to shine.”
General Hawthorne peered straight at the camera until the holo-director said, “Cut. That was excellent, General. A fine speech.”
Hawthorne nodded as he rose and strode to the door. Yezhov congratulated him, shaking hands. “Wonderful, General. A splendid speech. The masses will be hardened in their resolve and flood into the recruiting stations.”
Hawthorne nodded, and he shook more hands as he heard more effusive praise. The Chief of PHC worked for him now, although Hawthorne would never trust Yezhov until the man was incinerated and his ashes thrown down a deep-core mine. Bionic Captain Mune stood behind the secret police chief, ready to kill him at the first hint of betrayal.
“I was hoping you could check my latest list,” said Yezhov, edging forward.
“Assassination teams that are to be slipped onto the orbital farm habs?” asked Hawthorne.
Yezhov winced and glanced around. “Please, General, this is a sensitive project. Its success hinges on the fact that it remains secret.”
Only those screened by Hawthorne’s MI teams were allowed in his presence, and his bionic men watched those closely. A glance around showed him seven bulky bionic men. They held gyroc rifles and continually scanned the crowd, making them nervous. Good! Let them all quiver at the thought of treachery.
He and Yezhov had made a deal Slippery Yezhov, the sly and cunning chief of Political Harmony Corps. During his coup attempt, Hawthorne hadn’t the strength to take PHC in a straight shooting match. So he’d made the deal and now worked to chip at their power, just as they tried to chip at his. All the directors had been replaced except for Blanche-Aster for him and Gannel for Yezhov. The others were non-entities. So in a sense the tripod of power in Social Unity had become two: the Military and the Secret Police.
Wait until the Cyborgs arrive was Hawthorne’s policy. He wasn’t sure what Yezhov’s plan was. These assassination teams were part of it, maybe the core. Yet the secret police chief’s plan was ingenious and bold. The assassination teams would infiltrate Highborn areas and kill them. Just like PHC had infiltrated the Joho Command Center and almost kidnapped him. He needed to keep reminding himself how close PHC had come to victory.
A door opened and Madam Blanche-Aster wheeled in on her bulky medical unit. Behind her followed the guard-clone, unarmed these days. Neither the clone nor the director looked happy. Hawthorne excused himself and greeted the Madam Director. He inclined his head, even as he heard Captain Mune clump behind him.
“A fine speech, General,” said Blanche-Aster, only a touch of sarcasm in her voice.
“Thank you, Madam Director.”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“Can’t it wait?” asked Hawthorne. “I need to meet with the new directors and—”
“It’s about the
His eyes narrowed. “Yes?”
“It’s been captured.”
