Звезда Пандоры

It was getting crowded at the center of Wilson’s tactical display. The ghostly image of Elaine Doi herself had joined him, along with Nigel Sheldon, their spectral presence giving his orders supreme executive authority. To advise on tactics and technology he had the shades of Dimitri Leopoldovich and Tunde Sutton floating in attendance behind him.

Right now he would have welcomed a genuine spook, a psychic who could tell him what was coming next, or at least take a good guess. They were watching the last of the Prime projectiles rushing down over twenty-one besieged planets—he considered that ominous while everyone else was overjoyed. Wessex had successfully banished the alien wormholes, but Olivenza and Balya had dropped out of the unisphere when their station force fields were breached. The CST planetary station on Anshun had switched off their connecting gateways.

“Can’t you overload the remaining alien wormholes?” Doi asked Nigel. She was keen for further victories.

“I burned out eighteen of our wormhole generators taking out thirty of theirs,” Nigel said. “Do the math. That’s not a good ratio. Without wormholes we don’t have a Commonwealth. In any case, I doubt we have enough power reserves right now.”

Wilson said nothing. He’d watched helplessly as Sheldon sucked more and more power out of the Commonwealth power grid. All of the Big15 worlds had switched to niling d-sink reserves as their nuclear generators were called on. Earth had suffered an unprecedented complete civil power loss as Sheldon diverted the entire lunar output to support his space-warping battle above Wessex; while every other world in phase one and two space had experienced blackouts and brownouts as their domestic generators were put on front-line duty. For a while it had been touch and go: several city force fields had flickered alarmingly from the power loss. Right now everyone was busy recharging their storage facilities.

It had been a desperate exercise, although Wilson had to admit there had been no alternative. But if the Primes had chosen that moment to launch a further wave of attacks, the results would have been catastrophic. Wilson had been reduced to praying.

“You mean they’re here to stay?” Doi asked.

“For the moment, yes,” Wilson said.

“For the love of God, the money we gave you…”

“Enough to commission three warships,” Wilson snapped back. “I’m not even sure three hundred would have been enough today.”

“The aerobots and force fields have done a damn good job,” Rafael said. “Without them the damage would have been considerably greater.”

“But the casualties,” the President said. “Good God, man, we’ve lost two million people.”

“More than that,” Anna said soberly. “A lot more.”

“And it’s going to rise,” Wilson said, deliberately harsh. “Dimitri, can you give us some options on their next move?”

“They have softened us up,” the Russian academic said. “Occupation is the logical follow-up. You must be prepared for a full-scale invasion.”

“Tunde, what’s the ecological damage level on the assaulted worlds?”

“In a word, bad. Anshun took the worst pounding. The storms are just beginning there, at the very least they’ll spread the radioactive fallout right over the planet. The Primes don’t use particularly clean fusion bombs. Decontamination would cost a fortune, even if it was practical—which I doubt. Cheaper to evacuate and ship everyone to a new phase three planet. The other worlds are in varying stages of climate breakdown and nuclear pollution. Given our general population’s attitude to nuclear and environmental issues, I’d say nobody will want to stay on anyway.”

“I agree,” Wilson said. “I want to begin evacuation today.”

“On all of them?” Doi asked. “I can’t consent to that. Where the hell would they all go?”

“Friends, relatives, hotels, government camps. Who cares. That’s not my problem. We need to get everyone left alive on those planets under the force fields, then get them out. I want our military reserve shipped out there to help; every paramilitary officer, every police tactical assault squad; all the aerobots we can spare. Between them the planetary governments have enough combat personnel to put together a reasonable sized army. Madam President, I’ll need you to sign an executive order putting them under Admiral Columbia’s command.”

“I… I’m not sure.”

“I’ll back you up,” Nigel said. “And so will the Intersolar Dynasties. Wilson’s right, we need to get this moving.”

“Can you get wormholes opened in the other cities on those planets?” Wilson asked. “We’ll never be able to transport everyone to the capitals.”

“Narrabri station’s gateways aren’t in great shape right now,” Nigel said. “But we’ll cope, the whole goddamn train network is shut down anyway. We can divert the gateways we have left on Wessex, but it won’t be for trains. People will have to get through on foot, or buses.”

“What about Olivenza and Balya?”

“We can use the Anshun exploratory division’s wormhole to reestablish contact, see if there’s anyone left alive.”