Chapter 6

"So, no special treatment when the others are around," Moira said, giving him an intimate caress. "Got it. But the others aren't around. They're on the other end of the net."

"That's true, dear lady," Colin grinned, "but I really do have to be careful about this. On the one hand, we can't be fraternizing with people who haven't had the treatments we've had, so I don't think there's any need to keep it secret, but on the other hand, I can't even give the impression that I'm favoring you in any way. You know that as well as I do. Now behave yourself, the briefing's about to start."

"Aye, aye, sir!" she replied in such a by-the-book fashion that he knew she was poking fun at him, but he let it go. Her playfulness was part of what he liked about her.

The President just signed the technology bill, Colin spoke to the others via the MI network as they went about their business in various parts of the world, so I think it's time to drop the other shoe. I'll want at least two hundred troopers with me when I address the UN Security Council. How soon can we put that many together with enough training and discipline to look like a professional military force?

We have more than enough for that already, Pham admonished him, which you'd know, if you paid attention to briefings your MI gives you.

An angry retort began to form in Colin's mind but he quickly smothered it. Pham was right. In his zeal to get the Earthly aspects of the plan underway, he had neglected some of his shipboard duties. Quickly, he retrieved the latest headcount reports and was astonished at the size of the force he now commanded.

You're right on that one, Pham, he transmitted. Since I haven't designated anyone yet to handle those details for me, they still fall in my lap, but this fleet is getting far too big for me to be dealing with administrative details like that. From now on Djai, that's your department. You deal with recruitment and manpower assignments. Now that we've got a number of trained reconnaissance personnel, Pham, you need to shake yourself loose from the recruiting and get your team ready for their first mission. You too, Moira. You need to delegate the recruitment and begin getting your live squadrons in shape. You've learned enough in the sims to start shaking them out in real life. You'll be Pham's backup in case his people get in trouble, so the two of you need to get the units trained, then have the MIs put together some sims for a joint operation. You can use data received from the drones for your initial planning, but you may have to do some eyes on reconnaissance to finalize your plans before going in.

I would like to delegate that task to one of my new officers who seems to have a talent for that sort of thing, if you approve, Djai answered. I, too, have much to do preparing the fleet and training crews.

You may delegate anything you wish, Djai, Colin replied, as may the rest of you. Just keep in mind that you can only delegate the authority, not the responsibility.

That is as it should be, Djai said. We were not chosen for these roles because of our willingness to blame others for our failures, Colin.

Point taken. Sorry guys. I know I'm wound a little tightly, but I'm really out of my element when it comes to dealing with political types, and all of the wrangling I've been doing is driving me up a wall.

Well you wouldn't know it by the way you handled the Speaker of the House, Moira put in. It's all over the newspapers about how she thinks you're the greatest thing since sliced bread.

We just had a few beers and shot the bull for a while. She's quite a character, and anyone in Congress will tell you that you don't want to cross her, but I think she's one of the good guys. I didn't really have to sell her on anything, she already knew this was the right thing to do, but she wanted to test me a little. I guess I must have passed.

The meeting of the Security Council had been called to order by the current President in rotation, the Representative from Bahrain. The Permanent Representative from the United States was trying to get the President's attention and being studiously ignored when a figure materialized on the long table situated in the center of the circle defined by the representative's table.

The President and the other representatives were so astounded that it was several moments before any of them could react. Unobtrusively, the President pressed the button under his desk that would summon security.

"Pardon the intrusion, ladies and gentlemen," the space-suited figure said. Heads turned in surprise as the listeners wondered if their neighbors, too, were hearing the voice in their own language, without the benefit of the translators in the booths above. "My name is Colin McClintock, and I have come here to bring to your attention a matter of grave concern to the entire planet. And please, you can stop calling security. They won't be able to get into this chamber until I allow it."

As he spoke, the helmet of the spacesuit popped open and hung from the back of the suit, which split down one side, allowing its wearer to step out onto the table.

"A little over two hundred years ago," McClintock began, and a three dimensional image appeared in the air above his head, " about a hundred twenty light years from Earth, lived a race of beings called the Chofri."

The image zoomed in from space to show first a star, then the planets that orbited that star, and finally, a blue, green, and white ball that looked very much like Earth did from space.

"The Chofri were a technologically advanced race," now the image shifted to a city street that, at first glance, could have been in almost any large city on Earth, until one noticed the airiness of the construction and the fact that the beings on the streets had strangely jointed legs and four arms. "Their population grew slowly and they had only recently begun seeking other planets on which to expand. To do this, they invented, with the help of their manufactured intelligences, the 'folder' drive. I won't go into the physics of it, but it allowed them to travel interstellar distances in very short times. Before they had gotten very far with their explorations, their system was invaded by the Gorz."

The image cut to a wide view of two large groups of dots, rapidly zooming in on the first group to reveal a motley collection of ships in space.

"Now, you might wonder why, with the technology to leap from star to star, the Chofri did not have forewarning of the advance of an enemy that traveled only at sub-light speeds. The answer, of course, is that the folder drives were used to jump between star systems, not to explore the spaces between them. Thus it was that the entry of the Gorz into the Chofri system went undetected until they were very near the Chofri home planet."

"The Gorz, as the Chofri soon learned, were scavengers, and wherever they encountered inhabited planets, they destroyed the races who lived there and stole whatever they could use, including the technology, before moving on again, leaving the planet in ruins. The Chofri, with their superior technology, were not much concerned. They watched the advance of the Gorz in their system and prepared for war. Their best military minds decided that with the technological gap between the two, the war should not last more than a couple of weeks."

The hologram now showed two fleets coming together for battle. Cataclysmic forces were unleashed and shunted aside by energy absorbing shields, but gradually, ships on both sides began to succumb to the power of the weapons thrown against them. The sleek ships of the defending fleet darted in and out of range of the clumsy, ragtag Gorz fleet, leaving huge, expanding debris fields in their wake. Swift little fighter craft led the way, drawing fire and destroying defensive weapons as the heavy warships pounded the enemy mercilessly.

"Their technology did not give them as much of an advantage as they hoped," McClintock continued. "The folder drive could not be activated too close to the primary, which rendered it useless in a battle within the system. At first, it looked as though the war would go to the Chofri quite handily, anyway. After each battle, the Chofri returned home with a much larger percentage of their ships than the enemy and their scientists and engineers were daily coming up with new innovations to help in the war. To their astonishment, however, the Gorz kept coming back, each time with more ships."

War continued fiercely in the sphere above the chamber as the representatives watched, spellbound, only now, the Chofri fleet had dwindled while the Gorz fleet, if anything, had grown.

"The Chofri, expecting only a short battle, had not bothered to secure other sources of materials beyond those available on their planet. Meanwhile, the Gorz, accustomed to such sieges, were busily chewing up asteroids and the remaining planets in the system to obtain raw materials with which to build more ships. The war dragged on. The Chofri population began to decline, thanks to the war deaths and the low birth rates of the race. The Gorz, on the other hand, reproduced like rabbits."

As if in fast forward, the battles raged on, with the Chofri fleet dwindling while the Gorz fleet continued to grow. Every battle was closer to the Chofri home world than the last.

"For more than twenty five of our years, the war continued. The Chofri finally began to realize that there was no hope for them if they remained on Chofri. They built a small number of scout ships, loaded them with the latest in Manufactured Intelligence and other Chofri technology, and sent them out into the Universe to find a planet to which at least some Chofri might escape and rebuild their race."

The hologram showed the sleek scout ships as they ascended rapidly under cover of an attack on the Gorz fleet. As it rose from the launch pad, each ship disappeared behind a cloaking device. Fast forward again, zooming through space on one of the swift little ships. Space disappearing into a gray nothingness, only to reappear very near a yellow star. The view moved inward, passing a gas giant planet, the star growing larger, until finally a small blue and white planet could be made out against the blackness of space.

"One of those explorers came to this planet some two hundred years ago. The scout, whose name, if it matters, was Hobal, explored various parts of our world, deciding, finally, that his people could settle among the natives on the west coast of the North American continent."

The hologram now showed images of tribes of natives going about their daily lives, unaware that they were being recorded.

"Hobal sent word back to Chofri, but it was too late. He waited and waited for a reply, but none came. Finally, one day, he went out to explore without his battle armor, and was killed by the most unexpected of circumstances - a mosquito bite. The Manufactured Intelligences on his ship, on learning of his death, activated the Secondary Directive, given them secretly by the Chofri government before they departed."

The hologram fast forwarded through time. The representatives watched as the last two hundred years of Earth's history unfolded before their eyes.

"The Manufactured Intelligences knew we weren't ready yet, so they waited as we grew and our own technology evolved. While they waited, they kept watch on the Gorz, whose path through the Galaxy seemed as though it would bypass Earth entirely. Then, sixteen years ago, decades before they deemed us ready to accept the Chofri technology they were to give us under the Secondary Directive, the Gorz fleet changed course."

The hologram now showed a graphic that plotted the original Gorz Trajectory and then added the new one - the one that led directly to the Solar System.

"Whether they detected some of our early radio transmissions, or whether something else made them change course, is unknown. What is known is that, barring another course change, in ninety six years, eleven months and seven days, the Gorz will cross Pluto's orbit on their way to Earth - unless something is done to stop them. The MIs have already begun doing something. They started by conducting an intense search for someone to be the initial recipient on Earth of the gift they were to offer. Their ultimate choice was a software engineer from the silicon valley."

The Security Council watched as a pudgy, coffee swilling geek was followed through his daily routine by the hologram, apparently without his knowledge. They watched in fascination as the MIs set up their impromptu roadblock and waited for their prey to enter the trap. The scene in the cave was played out again before their eyes. By now, most had recognized Colin as the selected candidate, and he studied them as they studied him.

"Without experiencing it for yourself, you cannot know what has been done to my body since I consented to the MIs request," Colin told them, "nor can you understand the full extent of the gift they have given us. Before I leave here today, however, I hope to have started you on the road to that understanding. Like it or not, I am the one who 'found' the suit and ship in that cave, and along with them, the responsibility for preparing Earth to face the threat of the Gorz. Now, regardless of anyone else's thoughts on the matter, I intend to keep my end of that bargain. What I want from you, and from the leaders of your countries, is help in truly uniting Earth."

"Your countries have already begun to benefit from some of the technologies brought to us from Chofri. On my way to this meeting, I saw several Inertial Drive vehicles in the parking lot, and I know that both companies and households in your countries have begun to benefit from both the inexpensive power of the power plants we have made available and from the Manufactured Intelligences that are gradually replacing our old computers. None of that, however, is proof that what I say is true."

An aide leaned forward from one of the seats behind the President's chair and whispered in his ear.

"Sir," the President of the Security Council finally broke in, as the hologram faded from existence, "how did you get in here today? You are not on our agenda, and you do not wear a visitor's badge. How did you get past security?"

Colin smiled, "Thank you for the excellent introduction to the next part of my presentation. You are quite correct, sir. I have no pass and I did bypass security. As to how I did it - why I did it the same way the rest of these people did."

He swept his arm around in a gesture that encompassed the rest of the chamber. As the eyes of representatives, aides, observers, and guests followed his gesture, a host of space suited figures appeared, filling the aisles and the spaces behind the seats.

A collective gasp swept the room as they realized that at least two hundred of the apparently armed figures had been in their midst for some time.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Colin told them, "I would like you to meet Companies A and B of the 1st United Earth Space Marines."

As one, the assembled suits snapped to attention and presented arms with an assortment of weaponry that none in the room recognized.

"Sergeant," McClintock continued, "you may let the gentlemen from security in, now."

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

At each door to the room, a suited figure who had been blocking the opening of the doors into the chamber by his presence in front of the door, stepped aside, and a dozen uniformed security police rushed into the chamber, weapons drawn, only to pull up short when they found themselves surrounded by the armed, space suited figures.

"Come on in, gentlemen," Colin invited, "no one in this room is in danger, but I would appreciate it if you would refrain from discharging your weapons. They will not penetrate our shields and a deflected round could injure one of the representatives."

One of the security guards, apparently the one in charge, noticed that Colin was not in his suit, and thus, presumably, not protected by a shield. His 9mm whipped around and fired in the same motion.

Before the hammer could strike the cartridge, Colin was in motion. He executed a backward somersault so quickly that the watchers had trouble following. The first bullet passed only inches over his belly as he arched backward and caught himself on his hands. As his momentum catapulted his legs upward and over, the second shot blasted from the barrel of the automatic, only to pass harmlessly over his back as his feet came down - into the boots of his armor!

None of the witnesses except possibly those in the other suits could have said whether he had simply timed and executed his maneuver perfectly, or whether the suit had moved to meet him. Whatever the circumstance, the suit had transformed from a shapeless heap of fabric and now stood erect and open, receiving Colin's body as he came erect and wrapping it instantly within its powered protection. The helmet snapped into place a millisecond before the third bullet slammed into the suit's shield - and stopped. In slow motion, the slug slid to the tabletop between Colin's feet. The fourth slug seemed somehow anticlimactic as it, too, stopped and slid to the table.

None of the UN personnel knew that Colin's MI was frantically ordering his troops not to fire on the man who took the shots. Fingers eased on firing buttons, but the weapons stayed at the ready.

"Good thinking!" Colin congratulated the shooter. "Good reflexes, too! What is your name, sir?"

"Nils Sorensen," the man answered, wondering why Colin was still alive, and even more importantly, why he was still alive.

"I see from your badge that you are with UN security. The badge says you are a supervisor. Is that correct?"

Not sure he should be carrying on a conversation with the intruder, but seeing no harm in giving an answer that was displayed on his badge for all to see, Sorensen answered, "Yes. Who are you, and how did you and these people get in here?"

"Our suits are equipped with what is affectionately known as 'c-thru' technology. When turned on, this little feature picks up light from every side of the suit and retransmits it on the opposite side without distortion," Colin answered amiably, "The technology handles every visible wavelength as well as a classified range of non-visible wavelengths. This allowed us to slip into the building and the hall unnoticed. The real trick was to keep from bumping into civilians or security personnel on the way. Would you mind coming down front here to help me with a little demonstration?"

Sorensen hesitated and Colin encouraged him. "Look, I know you have a job to do, but you are outnumbered and cannot perform the duties of your office. Even if you brought in every security officer from every shift you wouldn't be able to perform those duties. We are not here to harm anyone, only to argue our case before the Security Council. I would take it as a courtesy if you would ask your people to lower their weapons so we can all relax, and if you agree to help with my demonstration, perhaps we can accomplish our purpose and leave sooner than we might otherwise."

Sorensen thought about it for a few more seconds, then gave a fatalistic shrug and holstered his weapon under his jacket. The others soon followed suit.

As the security officers put their guns away, the helmets of the spacesuits popped off as one, to hang at the back of the suits, each revealing the countenance of the suit's human occupant.

"You have seen how quickly I reacted to your attempt to shoot me," Colin addressed Sorensen but his eye were on the assembled representatives. "In an actual combat situation, I would not have taken time to don my suit. I would have attacked you directly, and, I assure you, my chances of subduing or killing you before you could kill me would have been about ninety percent. Are you trained in martial arts, Mr. Sorensen?"

"Yes."

"Are you good?"

"I am accomplished in a number of eastern styles as well as the French Savate," Sorensen said modestly.

"Would you care to give us a little demonstration of your prowess?"

"I don't think..."

"Humor me, Nils," Colin smiled. "What I really mean is, 'Would you care to help one of my people demonstrate his or her prowess?'"

"Ah! I see," Sorensen said. "Which one?"

"You choose," McClintock said, sweeping his hand around to indicate the suited figures.

Colin could see that the security man was tempted to choose him but thought better of it, perhaps because of the way he had avoided being shot.

Sorensen surveyed the men and women standing within the rumpled material of their spacesuits and finally settled on a short hispanic woman with a thin face.

"Her," he pointed.

"Staff Sergeant Oshiro," Colin commanded. "Front and center!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The woman stepped smartly out of line and marched up to the pair.

"Corporal Gupta, you too!"

A hulking young man with dark features, who had been standing next to Oshiro, also approached.

Sorensen started to protest the two-on-one matchup when Colin spoke again. "Corporal Gupta, please relieve Sgt. Oshiro of her arms."

The woman handed her weapon to the young man who then stepped away.

"Please exit your armor, Sergeant," Colin told the chosen opponent.

Barely five feet tall without her armor, Sergeant Oshiro looked entirely unimposing next to the six and a half feet of the security officer - unless one noticed the way she moved and the way the muscles rippled under her skin.

"Sergeant," McClintock said for the benefit of the watchers, "Mr. Sorensen here has challenged you to a hand-to-hand combat demonstration bout. What do you think of your chances?"

"I'll kick his ass in three seconds or less, sir," Oshiro answered without emotion.

"Really? Should we make it a little more challenging, then?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Mr. Sorensen, are there any others on your team who are well versed in martial arts?"

"Yes," Sorensen answered. "Miller, there, is an ex-SEAL, so is Chang. DeLeon knows Escrima - the Philippine stick fighting, and Park is an expert in Tae Kwon Do."

"Could the gentlemen named please come up here?" Colin asked. "Mr. deLeon, do you have the sticks to use for your art?"

From beneath the jacket of the Filipino came two telescoping wands which he snapped open with flicks of his wrists, then sent into an intricate, weaving, swishing pattern.

"Excellent!" Colin turned back to Sgt. Oshiro. "Well, Sergeant, will these gentlemen provide sufficient challenge?"

Oshiro squinted at the group of men before replying. "Ten point seven seconds, give or take a tenth of a second."

"Well, that will have to do, Sergeant." McClintock turned back to the men. "Gentlemen, you heard her. Sergeant Oshiro thinks she can defeat you in less than eleven seconds. Do you need to warm up or stretch?"

The men took a few moments to remove jackets, weapons, and shoes, then each performed a series of stretching exercises. Oshiro stood impassively to one side, seemingly relaxed. The representatives waited with bated breath. Surely this one diminutive woman would not survive a battle with even one of these men, much less five, yet she claimed that she would be able to defeat them in only seconds! What bravado!

"Don't you think it's a little unfair, Mr. McClintock, to ask this one small woman to face five experienced martial artists?" asked the representative from the UK.

"Perhaps, sir," McClintock grinned, "but I don't have time to wait for more security men to show up, so these will have to do."

The representative sat back in his chair. "I meant unfair to the young lady, sir!"

"What do you think, Sergeant?" Colin asked Oshiro.

"Oh please, sir," Oshiro said in a feigned little girl voice. "Don't make me fight all of these big, bad men!"

She couldn't keep a straight face, however, and soon the two of them were laughing together, as if sharing a secret joke.

"I think you have your answer, sir," McClintock told the representative. "Have a little faith. Our training is better than anything these gentlemen have experienced."

When the security men had finished their warm-ups, which included some impressive displays of punching, kicking and stick waving clearly designed to 'psyche out' their opponent, they gathered together at one side of the biggest open space in the room. Sgt. Oshiro already waited on the other side, wearing nothing but a singlet and a matching pair of grey boxers.

Sorensen looked at the slender woman, then at the men beside him, and hoped they wouldn't hurt her too badly.

"All right gentlemen, Sergeant, are you ready?" McClintock asked, more for the benefit of the watchers than for the combatants. "You will notice that we haven't set any rules. Sergeant Oshiro knows the constraints under which she fights. There are none on the rest of you. Ready? Begin!"

Oshiro didn't wait for the men to decide how they would attack. She glided across the intervening space like a ghost on the winds of a hurricane. When she closed with them, she became a blur, moving so fast the watchers could not see what she did, but each time she came near one of the men, he fell. First to go was the Filipinos stick fighter. The two ex-SEALs fell in quick succession, and then the Tae Kwon Do expert.

Sorensen stood to one side and watched, trying to decipher Oshiro's moves or discern a style. Some of the things she did looked familiar, but much of it came from a style he had never seen before. It was clear that they had grossly underestimated their opponent, and when she turned to him after dispatching Park, Sorensen gave a small bow before taking a defensive stance. Oshiro paused briefly to return the bow, then attacked. In less than three seconds, Sorensen lay unconscious on the floor.

Sgt. Oshiro, breathing only slightly faster than before, returned to her armor and stepped into the boots as the suit rose and enveloped her.

"My God!" One of the representatives breathed. "How can such a small person utterly destroy these well trained fighting men?"

Oshiro looked at Colin and he nodded.

"I calculated that Mr. deLeon and his sticks were the greatest danger to me, so I came in low and swept his feet out from under him, knocking him out as he hit the floor. Mr. Chang was closest when I regained my feet, so I kicked through his block and drove the wind from his lungs, then rendered him unconscious with a blow to the side of his neck. I'm afraid I broke his ulna in kicking through the block. As he was falling, I caught Mr. Miller watching and kicked him in the side of the head, then used his falling mass to support the vault that got me within Mr. Park's defenses. As my legs went around his neck, I threw my weight backward to unbalance him, and punched him once with each fist, thus rendering him unconscious, as well. The first punch broke his nose. Mr. Sorensen had been observing my attack on the others, and noticed that I had been able to easily defeat their eastern fighting styles, so, perhaps thinking to throw me off, he switched to a Savate defense. To counter, I took advantage of an obscure Chofri fighting style and my faster reflexes to temporarily disable the major muscles of his legs. After that, it was a simple matter to knock him out with an old-fashioned uppercut."

"You are certain that one broken ulna and a broken nose are the only serious injuries you have given these men?" McClintock asked his Sergeant.

"Apart from some bruises and the odd abrasion or two, yes, sir."

"Thank you Sergeant. Do any of you have any other questions for Staff Sgt. Oshiro while our medics care for the injured men?"

Sorensen was coming to as Colin's MI called two of the Marines' medics to the stage. They knelt beside the two identified as having broken bones.

"I have a question for Sergeant Oshiro," the representative from Peru said.

Colin responded, "Go right ahead."

"In our army, and most armies that I know about, throughout history, to attain an enlisted rank as high as Sergeant, much less Staff Sergeant, requires a number of years of experience. You do not appear to be old enough to have attained that level of experience. May I ask your age and how you come to have the rank of Staff Sergeant?"

"I am nineteen years old, Sir," Oshiro replied, unapologetically, "and although I have not yet faced an enemy in real life, I have been through four major campaigns in simulation, not to mention advanced hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, as well as enlisted leadership training. My performance during training and in the sims caused the MIs to recommend me for advancement in rank after each level was completed."

"You mean that you were given this rank because of your performance in training? No offense, young lady," the representative almost snorted, "but in my country's army, you would still be a private."

"Not if your country trained the way we do, sir," Oshiro answered levelly. "Until you have experienced a simulation, you cannot know how intense and realistic it is. I have lived through the agony of wounds, using my hands to stuff my intestines back inside my suit so the insects wouldn't eat me alive before the medics could spare time to work on me. I have felt the burns from blasters and suffered through searing heat and blistering cold. I have crawled through swamps so foul that I wanted to throw up, but didn't dare for fear that the evil things that lived in that muck would track me by the smell and devour me, as they had already done a number of my comrades. I have fought non-human creatures which had abilities that soldiers in your army should pray that they never have to face, and through it all, I have learned more about myself and my limits than any soldier on Earth will ever know. I know those limits because I have been pushed beyond them on more than one occasion. I know how I will react in most situations, because I have been in every combat situation you can imagine, and some that you can't. This is the experience upon which the MIs based their recommendations, and they are right. When I go into combat, I will lead my people well. I know this and so do they."