The Clones of Mawcett (22 page)

Doctor Peterson just nodded once, turned away, and walked towards the mess hall. Jenetta returned to the command center to await further developments. If the Raiders were there for the cloning equipment, she shouldn't have long to wait.

The_Clones_of_Mawcett

Chapter Eleven

~ February 14th, 2270 ~

The Raider ship didn't attempt to make contact for thirty-six hours. Perhaps it took that long for them to size up the situation and verify that they had correctly identified their target location. The command center continued to monitor all RF frequencies during the entire time and no distress calls originated from any of the other camps on the planet. Jenetta and her two clones passed their waking hours talking, in what to others would be like thinking out loud while facing two mirrors. Each knew what the others were going to say before it was uttered.

“Commander, message coming in,” the com chief said.

Jenetta, Two, and Three all stood up and walked anxiously over to the com station. A face, or what passed for a face, filled the com station screen. The head belonged to a Tsgardi, a warlike race originating on a planet thirteen-hundred light-years beyond the Galactic Alliance's outermost border. More closely resembling a tall, skinny, upright Terran baboon with short, thick, grey fur, than a human, the anthropoidal alien was the first that Jenetta had ever seen, other than as images in computer files.

The bridge of the alien craft, as seen in the viewscreen, was considerably different from that of Space Command vessels. For one thing, all the bridge personnel except the captain were standing at their stations. He had the only chair in sight, and the height of the stations meant that they would not be easily accessible from sitting positions. It would require a close examination to determine all the differences, but such information was probably already in Space Command databases.

“I'm Atakis Verdisqi, ship's captain. I'm calling the person in charge at the Loudescott archeological investigation site.” It was clear that a translation device was being used to produce the Amer language statement since his vocal orifice had closed several seconds before the message ended.

“No outgoing image,” Jenetta said to the operator, then nodded that she was ready to talk. “This is the person in charge. What can we do for you, Captain?”

“First, you can show yourself, as I have done.”

“We're operating with portable equipment. The vid camera is malfunctioning and we don't have a spare. Our camp doesn't have all the niceties available on a spaceship.”

“I don't believe you–– but I'll let it go for now. As long as you cooperate, no one will be harmed.”

“That's a rather unusual statement coming from a Raider. You people never leave everyone unharmed, which is why people always choose to fight when you show up.”

The captain laughed. “Us? Raiders? We're not Raiders. We're just a private concern. You might call us contractors. We do work for the Raiders on occasion, a lot more during the past two years then ever before, but we're still independents.”

“But you're working for the Raiders now?”

“Yes, but we don't want to harm anyone. That way Space Command won't go out of its way to track us down. We like to maintain a low profile. Just give us what we want, we'll be on our way, and nobody will be harmed.”

“What is it that you want?”

“Ahh, that's what I like to hear, a reasonable attempt to negotiate. What we're after today is the cloning device that you people have uncovered. Give us that and we'll leave as soon as we have it onboard. Then you can continue working as you have before.”

“Cloning device? What makes you think that we have a cloning device?”

“Please, we were just starting to get on so well. Don't start to think that we're stupid. We know that you have a cloning device. One thing that I've come to appreciate is Raider intelligence information. If they tell me you have it, it's guaranteed that you do.”

“All we have are ancient artifacts. Can I interest you in a complete set of twenty-thousand-year-old plastic dishes? They're in pristine condition, and even carry a full color company logo.”

“We just want the cloning equipment; and I don't care when it was made. Now, are you going to give it to us— or do we take it?”

“You could try to take it,” Jenetta said ominously.

“Now that's the response of a military person. You're obviously not a member of the scientific team.”

“I never said that I was.”

“That's right, you didn't. If you're expecting the Prometheus to return and save you, forget it. It won't be back for several months. Our decoy ship will continue to send out phony distress calls until the Spaccs are a week away, then slip away after going silent. We've been standing by for weeks so the Spaccs would be at least a month away when we moved in. We've cut off your communications so you can't contact the ship or Space Command at Higgins. You're totally isolated. Now give us the equipment or a lot of innocent people are going to get hurt.”

“I can't do that, and you can't take it.”

“No? We have your site on our monitors. The three shelters aren't going to afford you much protection. We can overrun your location in a few minutes and you have no means of escape.”

“If you move in, you'll either destroy the equipment in your attack, or we'll destroy it before you can take it away. Either way you don't get it.”

“If we don't get it, our orders are to make sure that no one else does, and–– that there aren't any witnesses left.”

“Now that's the response I expect of a Raider, or a Raider lackey.”

The Tsgardi captain paused for a few seconds. From the change of expression on his face, Jenetta felt that she had struck a nerve with the 'lackey' comment. She wondered what the translated word or expression was, and how closely it resembled the Amer meaning.

“I'll give you a couple of GST hours to think about it,” the Tsgardi said, obviously struggling to keep his composure. “I'll contact you once more before we move in. Live or die. It's your choice.” The screen went blank.

Jenetta immediately turned to the com operator. “Did they stop jamming while we talked?”

“No, Commander. They're using a standard radio frequency in the EHF band. RF frequencies still aren't being jammed. Only IDS traffic is blocked.”

“Then we can still send a message out?”

“Well, yes. But my small children will be parents with children of their own before it reaches a Space Command base.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Record a message for transmission using an RF com frequency in the microwave spectrum.”

“Yes ma'am. You can begin at any time.”

“This is Commander Jenetta Carver of Space Command, speaking from the Loudescott archeological site on Mawcett. The Earth date is February 14th, 2270. A Tsgardi spaceship captain named Atakis Verdisqi, who's admitted to working for the Raiders, has announced his intention to attack us if we don't turn over certain valuable artifacts to him and his crew. I've refused. He's given us two hours to reconsider before commencing his attack. His ship has blocked all com traffic except for old RF spectrum communications. If anyone intercepts this message, I ask that you relay it to the Higgins Space Command Base at Vinnia using an IDS com channel. Carver out.” Jenetta turned to the com operator. “Repeat that three times in a burst signal and send it in the clear. Then continue sending the burst every five minutes until I tell you to stop.”

“Aye, Commander.” A few seconds later the operator said, “First burst sent, Ma'am.”

“Any problem?”

“No, Ma'am. They still aren't blocking RF spectrum signals. The old frequencies are wide open, with only the normal background static.”

Jenetta, Two, and Three returned to the table that they were using for a desk, to discuss the situation.

“We have three choices,” Jenetta said.

“Use the shuttles to get some of the equipment away,” Two said, “bring it back in and seal the entrance, or have the engineers create some kind of a mockup and offer that to the Tsgardi. They're so ignorant that they wouldn't know it wasn't the real thing, unless they've been given an accurate description of what the real equipment looks like.”

“If they know about the equipment, they've probably received a description,” Three said, “just to make sure that we don't try to pull that kind of stunt. We'd best play it safe.”

“So it looks like option number one is the only logical choice,” Jenetta said. “A shuttle might be able to send a message to Space Command on the IDS band if it makes it out beyond the jamming range. The way that the equipment has been divvied up, if the Raiders don't get both shuttles and the remaining pieces down here, they can't ever reassemble it and get it working.”

“Who goes?” Two said.

“Jen has to stay here,” Three said. “She's the senior Space Command officer, and was left in command.”

Jenetta, lost in thought, said, “Why haven't they jammed com traffic in the RF spectrum?”

“They don't consider it a threat because of the distance to the nearest base or ship?” offered Two.

“Or because they wouldn't have been able to issue their ultimatum without turning off the IDS jamming signal and giving us an opportunity to broadcast a signal to Higgins?” Three added.

“Or simply because they don't have the necessary equipment to block it,” Jenetta said. “We know that Tsgardi have no home world in this part of the galaxy. We've wiped out such a large part of the Raider operation here that they have to be pulling as many ships and 'contractors' as they can from elsewhere. Their resources have to be finite. I hope this attack doesn't signal a return to pirate activity by the Raiders. The past year, free from pirate attacks in this part of space, has been wonderful.”

“I wonder how many crewmembers there are in the Tsgardi ship,” Three said.

“If they're truly independents, they probably try to keep crew size as small as possible to reduce expenses between jobs,” Two said.

“We still only have two companies of Marines,” Jenetta said. “A force of sixty combatants is adequate to control any situation that might have arisen on the surface, but it's not sufficient to take on a Raider ship with any hope of winning.”

“I wish that we'd had the foresight to have a couple of squadrons of fighters left with us,” Three said.

“We couldn't have foreseen an attack by Raiders,” Two said. “The Battle for Higgins had to have pretty much pulled their teeth in this part of the galaxy.”

“I should have anticipated the possibility for technology this important,” Jenetta said. “It's my fault.” She knew that if the equipment, whether intact or damaged, fell into Raider hands, her career in Space Command would effectively be over. At one time a Terran military person who failed dramatically was expected to fall on their sword. That tradition had long such passed. Now, they you only made you wish you'd fallen on your sword. An individual that allowed the 'greatest scientific find of the century' to fall into Raider hands would certainly never captain a warship. She already had a black mark against her on this mission for allowing herself to be cloned. If the Raiders got their hands on the equipment, she could probably be charged with culpable negligence.  It didn't matter that the base was undermanned and out-gunned. The equipment had been entrusted to her custody. The best she might hope for now was an assurance that the Raiders wouldn't get enough to even ascertain how it worked. At least then she might not be dishonorably discharged from the service.

“The Raiders were all but wiped out in this deca-sector when the Raider-One base was destroyed,” Two said. “Then between the Battle of Vauzlee and the Battle for Higgins they lost eighty-seven more ships from their nearest other bases. You couldn't defend against every possible contingency, and the Prometheus doesn't have unlimited resources.”

“Let's worry about blame later,” Three said. “Right now we have to develop our strategy.”

“Yes,” Jenetta said, suppressing all emotional expression. “Where should the shuttles go?”