We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 3: Chapter 67: Running

Book 3: Chapter 67: Running

Herschel

April 2257

Sol

We watched on the monitor as the last three transports flew past the main cargo doors into the corridor. The pilots were pushing it, and would probably have some turbulence to deal with inside. Neil started closing the doors before the transports had even cleared the entrance. I waited until they were sealed, then punched it as hard as I dared.

The Bellerophon rose majestically through the atmosphere. Air turbulence was barely detectable, and dropped off quickly. As soon as we were above atmosphere, I maneuvered to put the Earth between us and the battle. Then I gave it every ounce of juice available. We shot up into a powered orbit at almost 3 G.

Zap coming your way. One of the death asteroids unloaded. Thirty seconds. Coordinates follow.

I examined the incoming data and did a right-angle turn. At this range, the zap would be fairly narrow, and I should be able to get outside its cone of effect with little effort. I was more concerned with the number of death asteroids that might still be able to send zaps our way. If they bracketed me, we’d be done.

Two more zaps.

This set comprised a coordinated attack. The first was easy to dodge, as it was slightly behind me, but the obvious move would place me right square in the middle of the second one. Not a bad strategy at all, I admitted to myself. Except that with SCUT comms, I knew what was coming.

I dodged in a random direction, and smiled to myself as I imagined the Others’ gunnery crew grinding their teeth-equivalents in frustration. Then I lost the smile as I realized that I’d just confirmed for the Others that we had FTL communications. I fired off a quick text to Bill, pointing that out. I didn’t know if the Others might be able to come up with a strategy based on that datum, but best to have it out in the open.

Another zap. I think this one will graze the Earth.

“Oh, not good. Neil—”

“On it.” Neil frantically ran calculations. Then he turned to me, fear written all over his face.

“Hersch, this one’s going to hit.”

“The Earth?”

“Cuba.”

“Cuba? But they’re—”

Neil nodded. “Still there. We aren’t scheduled to pick them up for another hour.”

“How long?”

“Twenty-eight seconds, now.”

I stared at Neil for a couple of milliseconds. A hundred and fifty thousand people currently made Cuba their home. There was no chance to do anything at all, not in that amount of time. “So they’re…” ?????Ê?

“As good as dead.”

I didn’t know anyone there, of course. I’d only been in the system for a day or so. But Riker, that is, Will would. I hoped he hadn’t done the calculations. Thirty seconds was an eternity to us. Thirty seconds of thinking about people you know, now alive but soon dead…

Neil was looking down at his board, his eyes squeezed shut.

“I’ll tell him, buddy. Afterward.”

Neil looked up at me and nodded. He swallowed several times and got back to work. The silence hung heavy in the room for the rest of the minute.

* * *

We sent a couple of drones to Cuba, more to cover all the possibilities than out of any real hope. It took about two seconds before we had to turn off the monitors. The inhabitants had gathered into several open areas for easier loading. So many bodies…

The remainder of the loading went without incident. The Others zapped at us several more times, but never came close. They had no way of knowing, of course, that they would have better results zapping the Earth directly. Or maybe they were offended at our use of their cargo vessel.

Didn’t really matter.

Finally, we lifted away from the planet for the final time. I aimed the bow into a vector that would keep us in the Earth’s shadow relative to the Others, and poured it on.

It took several more hours of running before I was far enough away from the engagement to feel safe. From here, a zap wouldn’t do more than create a pretty aurora around the mover plates. The battle continued to rage. It had turned into a war of attrition. The ultimate winner would probably be last man standing.

“What are our chances?” Neil said.

I had no better idea than he did, of course. He just wanted to talk. I gave him a shrug. “If they win here, we’ll have to head for one of the other colony worlds. Which means setting up some kind of living arrangements in the cargo bays for six million people, while we build stasis pods en route. We could conceivably lose a million to starvation and disease. If we win, we can go back, unload, and build the rest of the stasis pods we need, then take everyone to 82 Eridani. But—” I glared at Neil. “—we still have to deal with the Others at their source. Otherwise, they can just regroup, rebuild, repopulate, and come back at us again, somewhere down the road.”

We sat, staring into space, for some indefinite amount of time. I checked the status of the humans, occasionally. Moans, whimpers, and hopeless sobbing sounded from the monitors. As hard as this was for us, it was infinitely worse for them. They’d been living under a potential death sentence all their lives, but it had been a diffuse, indeterminate and impersonal kind of threat. Now, the threat loomed over them, personal and immediate, potentially to be carried out at any moment.

I picked up a video feed from a random roamer. People had generally managed to wedge themselves into the netting that we’d provided. It probably gave some feeling of up and down in the weightless environment. The refugees nearest to the camera all had their eyes closed. Huddled, some with their arms wrapped around each other, they seemed to be trying to merely endure.

In some unknown time, they’d either be offloaded, or they’d be suddenly dead. Not much to look forward to.

I shook myself, disturbed by the morose thoughts. I had a job to do, and it mostly consisted of making sure the latter alternative didn’t come to pass.

At least the number of sanitation incidents had dropped off. Although I was sure the air in the cargo bays must be ripe as hell.

Then, a text from Will. It’s over.