Гарри Гаррисон - To The Stars

“This second part. This is where we coordinate with the attack on Spaceconcent in the Mojave desert?”

Skougaard licked a last bit of cream from his fingertips. “Exactly, My hope is that with the destruction of their main fleet, the attack on the satellites, blackouts and power failures, resistance sabotage, why they just might forget about Mojave for the moment. If your friend — our friend hopefully — Thurgood-Smythe is telling us the truth, why he will have a lot to do with increasing the confusion. In any case, win or lose, we go for the big one.” He put a second knife beside the first one and moved them around the plate, to the back of the Moon.

“Here is where I divide my forces yet again. We will be out of sight and detection from the Earth stations when we are on the far side of the Moon. Also, when we pass this spot, here, we will be over the horizon and past the last remote detection station. That is when we fire our engines for a course change. A minor change for the main body of the squadron,” he moved one knife slightly away from the other, “since we don’t want it to come out into the waiting missiles of the defense forces, which will be in position by that time. But a major change for the remaining two ships. This one and the troop transport. We change orbit and pile on the G’s. We whip around the Moon like a weight on a string — and come out here. Far from the defenses and on a precise orbit for Earth.”

“An orbit that will eventually terminate over the Mojave?”

“Exactly. The Dannebrog will supply cover, a missile umbrella screen against anything coming up from Earth. That should be easy because they have to rocket up out of the gravity well. We should have plenty of time to pop them off as they come. And we have nothing to fear from the Moon bases behind us since they will have had a few bombs and iron cannonballs down their throats to, give them something else to think about.”

“You make it sound simple,” Jan said.

“I know. But it isn’t. Warfare never is. You plan as best you can, then chance and the human factor come into it to produce the final results.” He poured a glassful of akvavit from the water-beaded bottle and threw it down his throat. “A few more of these, then a good sleep and we see what is waiting for us when we come out from behind the Moon. I suggest you get some rest as well. And if you are the praying type, pray that this strange brother-in-law of yours is really on our side this time.”

Jan lay down, but could not sleep. They were hurtling at incredible speed toward an unknown destiny. Dvora was mixed up in it; he should not be thinking about her, but he was. Halvmork, all his friends and the rest of the people there. And his wife; they were light-years away. Light-years from his thoughts as well. This warfare, the killing, it was going to end soon. One way or the other. And Thurgood-Smythe, what about him? He was the deciding factor in the whole equation. Would his plan work — or was it just a convoluted and complex plot to betray and destroy them all? Warm flesh, dead flesh, guns, death and life, all swirled into a jumble and the alarm buzzer startled him awake. He had fallen asleep after all. The reason why he had set the alarm returned through the fog of sleep and a sudden knot of tension formed in his midriff. The battle was entering its final phase.

Jan found Admiral Skougaard in a philosophical mood when he joined him. Skougaard was listening to the muttered comments from the computers and nodding his head as he looked at the displays on the screens.

“Did you hear that?” he asked. “The big cannons are firing again at a target they can’t see, that will be destroyed well before they reach it. Have you considered the mathematical skill involved in this little exercise that we take so much for granted? I wonder how many years it would take us to do these computations by hand. Look—” he pointed at the cratered surface of the Moon slowly moving by beneath them. “I supplied the computers with accurate photographic maps of the Moon. On these maps I marked the three missile bases that are located on the Earth side of this satellite. After that I simply instructed them to fire the cannon to knock these sites out. That is what they are doing now. In order to do this the Moon must be observed and our orbit, speed and altitude determined. Then the sites must be located in relation to this orbit. Then a new orbit must be calculated for the cannonballs, that will include our speed, their launching speed, and the precise angle that will permit their path to terminate on the chosen missile site. Marvelous.” His elation vanished as he looked at the time, to be replaced by the studied calm he presented during battle. “Three minutes and Earth will be over the horizon. We’ll see then what kind of reception is waiting for us.”

As Earth’s atmosphere slowly rose into view the rustling static on their radios was replaced by muffled voices that became quickly clearer as they moved into line of sight of the stations. The computers scanned all the space communication frequencies to intercept the enemy messages.

“A good deal of activity,” Skougaard said. “They have been stirred up enough. But they have some good commanders left — all of them better than the late Comrade Kapustin. But if Thurgood-Smythe is doing his job there should be conflicting orders going out. Let us hope so since every little bit helps.”

The blue globe of Earth was clearly in sight now; a web of radar signals filled space, followed instantly by more accurate laser detectors once the rebels had been found. As soon as this happened the invading fleet broke radio silence and began searching and ranging as well. Figures and code symbols filled the displays.

“It could have been better for us,” Skougaard said. “Then again it could have been a lot worse.”

Jan was silent as the Admiral called for course computations, estimates of closing speed, ranges, all of the mathematical details that were the essentials of space war. He did not hurry, although thousands of miles passed while he considered his decision. Once made it was irrevocable — so it had to be right.

“Signal to first squadron in clear. Plan seven. Then contact the second squadron, coded report.”

Skougaard sat back to wait, then nodded to Jan. “The enemy has spread a wide web, which is what I would have done myself, rather than risking everything on covering a few orbital boltholes. They knew that we wouldn’t come out from behind the Moon on the same orbit we were on when they lost contact with us. This is both good and bad for us. Good for the others in the first squadron. They are in tight orbit for two of the most important Lagrange satellite colonies, the manufacturing ones. Whether they attempt to capture them or not depends entirely upon how hot the pursuit is. We’ll know soon when all of the enemy course corrections are completed. It will be a slow stern chase because our opponent’s forces are so widely separated. That could be dangerous for us because they could mass more ships than I would like to intercept us. Let us hope that they get their priorities wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Skougaard pointed at the screen at the image of the troop carrier in orbit beside them. “At this point in time everything depends upon that ship. Knock it out and we have surely lost the war. Right now its orbit terminates in central Europe, which should give the enemy something to ponder over. But during braking approach its course, and ours, will be changed to put us down in the Mojave. Just one hour after the Israeli attack begins. With our aid the base will be secured, the missile sites captured. When they are secured we can fight off any attack from space, or destroy the base if attacked by land. End of battle, end of war. But if they knock out that transport, why then we don’t take the base, the Israelis will be counterattacked and killed — and we will have lost the war… wait. Signal from the second squadron.”