The Long Road to Gaia (11 page)

"Thirteen, you're going to want to see
this," said Nineteen to me in singular mode, so the others couldn’t hear
or see her.

"Where?"

"Jamaica."

"American fleet there yet?"

"About to jump in. The Germans are in
Cuba already."

"And I'm going to be interested,
because?"

"One of your people is there."

"Which one?"

"Jon Hunter."

Enough said. I'd actually forgotten he was
seconded to the American Fleet for experience so the Australian sector would
have an experienced capital ship driver to command the new ships they were planning
to build.

I excused myself from the meeting, and
shifted.

* *
*

"Signal from the Admiral," said
Coms.

"Yes?" answered the Captain.

"We're to join the first line on the
starboard side."

"Move us into position helm,"
said Major Jon Hunter.

The Cruiser Boston was the last to arrive,
having been the furthest away when the mobilization was called. Jon Hunter was
her executive officer.

I froze time and took a moment to see the
American deployment.

The American fleet was staged around the
Jamaica Cuba jump point, waiting for the Germans to show up. The first line was
directly in the down jump line, but far enough away there was no risk of
collisions from jumping in ships. The jump point was however in range of all
guns from Destroyer size and up.

The first line was composed of four
Battleships, and now eight Cruisers, four on each end of the line. Boston was
going into the first line because she was new.

The second line was another two
Battleships, six Cruisers, and four Destroyers. They were further back, and
slightly below the first line, but still within range of all heavy guns. Every
ship had a clear line of fire on the jump point.

The third group, much further back,
contained two Fleet Carriers, protected by a dozen Frigates and another dozen
Corvettes. The Carriers were launching everything they had. The squadrons of
Thunderbolt heavy fighters formed up behind the second line of ships. The
Broadsword bombers formed up behind them.

I returned to stand next to Jon, and
started time moving again.

There was a scout passing through the lines
now, having jumped in as Boston arrived on station.

"Enemy jump imminent," said Coms.
"All ships are ordered to target the jump point, and to fire as soon as
they have a target."

"Acknowledge," said Jon.
"Guns, get us pointed. Helm, bring us around so all batteries can
fire."

There were two versions of "Aye
sir", one after the other. The ship turned, and all turrets aligned on the
middle of the jump point.

The fleet waited. The gunners had their
fingers on the triggers. Everyone else seemed to hold their breathe.

A red dot appeared on the HUD, quickly
followed by a lot of them.

The fleet fired almost immediately. The
German fleet began firing at almost the same time.

"What have we got?" bellowed Jon.

"Eight Battleships," yelled Helm.
"Twelve Cruisers behind them."

"How the hell do they have eight
Battleships?" demanded the Captain.

No-one answered. No-one knew.

"Fighters and bombers jumping in
behind them as well sir. They must have a Carrier on the other side."

I stopped time again.

The Germans had the most mass, but they
were jumping in, so only their forward turrets could fire. The Americans on the
other hand, had every turret firing at them.

Nineteen appeared next to me when I called.

"Good question I thought," I
said. "Is there an answer?"

"The Germans have been building ships
in secret for decades," she answered.

"Germans in general?"

"No. Business groups pretending not to
support the Nazis have been funding ship building behind everyone else's back.
This has been coming for a long time. How have you not seen this?"

"I haven’t been looking. My focus is
specific, and it’s a long way from here. I've no real interest in what the rest
of humanity has been up to."

"Perhaps you should have."

It was a thought. But one I wasn’t sure was
actually productive in terms of my mission.

"What do you reckon about the outcome
here?"

"They are pretty even. Germans have
more and bigger ships, but the Americans have the edge in firepower, and
training. Also experience, since they've been dealing with a pirate problem for
quite some time."

"Well we better let them have at
it."

She nodded, and vanished.

I restarted time.

Boston shuddered, as a full broadside from
one of the Battleships hit her shields.

"Move us!" yelled Jon and his
Captain at the same time.

The ship dropped below the line quickly,
and most of the next broadside aimed at them missed. But the shots which hit,
took their shields down.

"Evasive!" ordered Jon, and the
ship changed position again.

Boston shuddered much more violently this
time, even though only a few shots hit them.

"Hull breach!" yelled someone.

The doors were all airtight, and all of
them were closed, so only the compartments opened to space had casualties.

Boston hadn't stopped firing, but now, only
slightly more than half of her guns fired.

The next hit blew down their recovering
shields again, and the compartment above the bridge was destroyed. Debris
crashed through the floor, and crushed the Captain. The air blew out through
the ceiling for a few seconds, before the hull sealant systems were able to
seal the hole. Boston lost position in the line, and found herself closing in
on the center of the battle.

Major, now Captain Jon Hunter, surveyed the
wreckage of the Bridge. Coms was also gone, as were half the gunnery positions
and the engineering station.

The Lieutenant at Helm was still moving the
ship around, still trying to keep them clear of the main shots directed at them.
It was a guessing game, and he had average luck.

Boston staggered under the next hit,
throwing Jon right out of his chair. He picked himself up, idly noting the
blood dripping down the left side of his face. He pulled himself over to the
Helm, which still worked, although the ship wasn’t answering very well now.

"What's left?" he asked Helm.

"Nothing sir. We can move with main
engines, but that’s about it. Going forward is about our only real option right
now."

"Enemy?"

"Holding the line sir. They've all
turned to bring all guns to bare. It’s a slugfest. Both sides are taking a lot
of damage."

He paused, looking at the nav map.

"No wait," he went on. "The
Missouri is turning to retreat. So are the rest of our first line. Um. Those
still here that is. Oh hell."

"What?"

"The Battleship opposite her is moving
to prevent Missouri from leaving."

"Can we intercept her?"

The man looked hard at Jon, and swallowed
heavily.

"Yes sir."

"Ramming speed," Jon ordered.

I've always wondered what that was. Ships
have fixed speed. They cruise at one speed, they have a top speed above it. But
nothing is actually defined as ramming speed. There is no extra above top speed
to ram with. Ramming speed was full speed. So why use special words. 'Ram the
bastard' would have made more sense. So much to learn yet about Humans.

Boston turned slowly as she began picking
up speed.

"Perhaps today is a good day to
die," muttered Jon, as he reseated himself. "Ka-Plaa!"

The German Battleship was too late seeing
the threat, and Boston, now up near full speed, rammed her about a third of the
way down her length. The Battleships shields were so low, Boston went through
them with only minor damage.

Both ships blew.

I wound back time and looked at what
happened slowly.

As I thought, Boston hit the Battleship,
and cleaved straight through her forward power room, which supplied the energy
to her forward guns. The power plants had exploded.

I sighed heavily. Another dead Jon Hunter.
But this one had died a warrior, and a hero. Only no-one knew.

I let the battle conclude.

The Americans were able to disengage all
their Battleships, half their Cruisers, and a third of their fighters and
bombers. Very few of the larger ships were undamaged. Missouri was the worst
hit, and had escaped purely because of the actions of Boston.

The Carriers were undamaged, as were their
escort, having been ordered to withdraw the moment the number and size of the
German fleet had been realized.

The Americans fell back into Bermuda, where
they formed up with the Canadian fleet. They sent a hurry up to the British,
and began trying to repair their damage in preparation for the next battle.

The Germans didn’t go far. They'd also been
bloodied, and losing one of their Battleships to an inferior ship hadn't gone
down well, and had made a significant mess of the down jump area. The Carriers
waited in Cuba to jump in when the jump point had been made safe, but it was
going to take several days to happen. As far as I could tell, it would give the
British time to join in.

One appeared next to me.

"Stop wasting time Thirteen. You're
needed in the meeting, not buggering around here."

She vanished before I could say anything.

I pondered the debris field, and the Hunter
family.

Galactica had lost forty three scout ships
in the centuries it took her to reach the end of the galactic arm. Six of those
had killed Hunters. Another twenty three of them had killed someone from their
extended family of cousins and second and third cousins. Two of them had been named
Jonathon Hunter. Now a third Jon was dead. The first had been the only one to die
of old age. Space was a harsh place. Jonathon hadn't been an often used name in
the Hunter family, but since leaving Earth, it sure was lethal to those who had
it.

It made you wonder why the family used the
name at all. Then again, there had also been fifteen named Jonathan, and none
of them had died violently or unexpectedly.

It occurs that the spelling difference
might be someone like One playing silly buggers with the family. Making them
make a typo when filling in the birth name, for the ones on a one way trip to
eternity. Maybe I'm just becoming too cynical about One though.

I wondered what the next Jonathon would be
like, and how he'd die. It was a depressing thought.

Twelve appeared, grabbed me by the arm, and
shifted us back to the meeting.

No-one said a thing, and we picked up where
I’d left off.

"War's over," announced Nineteen.

Five rolled his eyes and appealed to One
silently. But One was actually interested, and instead of waving away Nineteen,
she waved her to sit. Five sighed. I think we're all spending too much time in
human form, since it seems all of us are picking up their mannerisms. Scary
thought.

"Who won?" asked Six.

"Those who weren't involved,"
answered Nineteen with a grin.

"Ha-ha," said Twelve. "What
actually happened?"

"The American fleet was reinforced by
the Canadian fleet, adding two more Battleships, three Cruisers, and a handful
of smaller ships to the fleet. The Germans were too slow cleaning the jump
point of the first battle, and the British caught up, adding another five
Battleships and a dozen Cruisers, plus a Carrier and support ships. The
Americans also had enough time for basic repairs. So when the Germans jumped
into Bermuda, they were outgunned."

Nineteen looked at me.

"You'd have enjoyed the battle Thirteen.
It was a bigger slugfest than the one you did see."

No, I think not. Battles were not really my
thing. I know some of my peers considered battles among mundanes to be
entertainment, but I didn’t. I'm not sure why Nineteen counted me in their
number.

She paused slightly to see my reaction, and
when I didn’t give one, she went on.

"This time it was the German's who
withdrew. They lost two thirds of their fleet, and the remainder escaped only
because the jump lane was too heavy with debris for the Americans to risk going
after them immediately. All the same, the Allied fleet lost almost half its
number as well."

There were smiles around the table. Nothing
like big losses in a battle to get your bloodlust up. Except we didn’t have
blood in the conventional sense. I felt sick.

"At the same time, the French,
Italian, and Spanish fleet received reinforcements from the Russians and
Chinese, and they pushed back the German fleet still in Barnard's Star."

I sighed. War was war, but I found I really
didn’t want to hear about it. But it seemed I was the odd one out.

"The Earth-side fleet had a harder
time than the top arm fleet in pushing the Germans back, so they met in
Deutschland at about the same time, in spite of the top arm fleet having
further to go. The final battle there, destroyed the remaining German ships,
and they surrendered. The Nazi government fell, and most of the leaders were
executed by their own people."

"Nice," said Nine, grinning.

"What was the fallout?" I asked.

One nodded as well. Seemed this was her
main interest.

"The Germans lost their status as a
sector, and became a sub-sector of Earth sector. They were forbidden to build
any ship larger than a Cruiser class, with strict limits on how many could be
built, and the size of guns which could be put on them. No Pocket Battleships
were going to be allowed."

"So pretty much the same result as the
end of World War 2," interrupted Four.

"Close. But there was one significant
difference."

Nineteen paused, inserting an air of
expectation, maybe thinking someone would guess. No-one tried.

"The Germans recognized themselves
that the Nazi mentality had a significant hold over a proportion of the
population, and this would never change. So they chose the planet with the
highest proportion of Nazi voters on it, declared the system to be the Fourth
Reich, and forcibly exiled all known Nazis on their other worlds there, while
encouraging anyone who supported them to move there as well. Laws were passed
making being a Nazi illegal, punishable by exile. But it's not just Germans.
Now there is a place specifically for those with the Nazi mindset, they are
moving there from all over Human space, or being exiled there. The Earth Torus
for example, is forcefully moving tens of thousands of known Nazis. The Nazis
themselves are starting to freak out about it, since the whole blond blue eyes
thing they pride themselves on is under threat from those who don’t look like
them, only think like them. Some shakeout to come there I think."

"Probably overdue," said Eight.

"The French, Italians, and Spanish
declared independence and formed their own sectors, as promised. Until Earth
sector can build a new fleet, they are maintaining a blockade force in
Victoria. But I can't see this lasting for very long. The top arm fleet has
already begun the journey back to their own space."

"So peace in our time?" muttered
Two.

Nineteen laughed.

"Not even close. The divisions between
Earth sector and the others seem wider than ever before, and nothing seems to
have been solved as far as the Arabs are concerned. Although the top of the
spine sectors do seem to have come together more."

"I think you'll find the same thing
happens in the Arab systems," said Six. "The extremists will be
blamed for the huge loss of life, and each system will go back to being its own
faction again."

"It's started already."

"How are the sectors feeling?"
asked Three.

"Earth sector has taken a huge hit,
and may never recover to be more than the token homeland that once was. I doubt
they will be a force again for another hundred years. The core-ward sectors all
gained, especially those getting their independence at last. The last vestiges
of Earth sector being superior, died with their fleet. The Canadians did
reasonably well out of coming to the Americans aid. The British also, although
they are now quietly starting to upgrade their tech, having taken a bit more
damage than they'd have liked. Sci-Fi sector got a bit spooked, and is now
talking to the British about buying one of their older Battleships. The Australians
don’t appear to have noticed the war much at all. Benefit of distance I
guess."

"And the Americans?" asked One.

"Freaked out."

Just about everyone laughed. I frowned. A
freaked out American sector was not in anyone's best interests as far as I could
see. It had happened before, and no-one was happy with the fallout from what
followed. Nineteen went on.

"Their Cruiser class proved to be
vulnerable to heavier weapons, so there are already calls for a new Cruiser
class to be built, able to take much heavier fire and still continue to fight.
But there is significant opposition to the cost. My guess is they will also
concentrate on improving tech, and at some point, we'll see a big upgrade of
their fleet. For now though, the Americans are hyper-aware of what the other
sectors can do to them, and they're going to strengthen their sector
defenses."

"So," said One. "They’ve all
had a wake up call."

"You could put it that way,"
responded Nineteen.

"Good."

One put a lot of emphasis on that one word,
making me even more sure the whole thing had been engineered by her.

"Thankyou Nineteen, you can go
now."

One looked down the table at the rest of
us, and Nineteen, now dismissed, vanished.

I wasn’t happy, but there wasn’t anything I
could do.