Stargods by Ian Douglas (best summer books TXT) 📕

“Your coastline is vulnerable with the first impact in the Pacific Ocean,” the president of the Russian Federation said. “Andthat will happen when the planet rotates enough to show its face to the enemy. Some of us shall enjoy watching that!”

Oleg Kobylkin, Walker thought, was almost completely defined by his nation’s ongoing war with China. It was far easier to reach an agreement with his Defense Minister. Walker fervently wished Vasilyev was here instead of Kobylkin.

“Mass murderer!” Zhao snapped.

“Tinplate dictator!” Kobylkin replied.

“If you please, gentlemen,” Walker said, “you two can fight your petty little wars later! We have more important matters beforeus!”

“We could, Mr. President,” Kurtz said, “simply recall our own fleets, our own forces. That might at least buy us some time.”

“I never would have imagined,” Walker said, “that surrender would be such a logistical nightmare!”

“You are looking for consensus here?” Kobylkin said. “Very well. The Russian Federation supports your decision. We currentlyhave five naval vessels in the defensive line at Mars, and three more en route. I will give orders to withdraw them all.”

“The Chinese Hegemony agrees in principle, Mr. President. But only in principle. We demand, however, that we be fully representedin any negotiations with the aliens.”

“Of course, of course,” Walker replied. “That goes without saying.”

“Nevertheless, I prefer to hear you say it.”

“Mr. Chairman—I promise you, the Chinese Hegemony will have full representation in any negotiations with the aliens. But rightnow, we have to stop this bombardment!”

“You Americans have the majority of the naval assets at Mars orbit,” Kobylkin said. “You send the necessary message. But knowthat you do not speak for all of Earth. Russia demands a say in future negotiations as well.”

“Of course. Thank you, all of you—”

“Oh, don’t thank us. If this fails . . .” Kobylkin gave them all a wolfish grin. “If it fails, I shall very much enjoy watchingBeijing sink beneath the waves!”

Yes, Walker thought. Vasilyev was much easier to work with.

Lieutenant Michael Cordell

Marine Beachhead Alfa

Mars Orbit

1452 hours, FST

Cordell circled the Marine perimeter, watching for threats. The three Marine Ravens had touched down right next to the poolof lava where the fleet had concentrated its fire during the opening moments of the battle, and a platoon or so of USNA Marines,encased in heavy combat armor, were working under the orange glare of boiling rock.

Yorktown’s CIC had filled him in. The Marine landing was intended to deploy a powerful nanodisassembler on the shores of the lavalake, a weapon hundreds of times more powerful, he’d been told, than the Pan-Euro warhead that had taken out Columbus a fewyears ago. When it fired, trillions of dust-mote disassemblers would begin eating their way into the rock of the planetoid,perhaps weakening an already weakened matrix, creating a fault that would split the tiny world in half.

It seemed the best hope for the human forces, a long-shot Hail Mary for saving the Earth.

He’d spotted the possible enemy fighters on his screens, perhaps thirty of them, but so far they’d been circling rather thanlaunching an attack. CIC ordered Cordell to fly CSP—combat space patrol—over the Marines, just in case the Nungie fightersmade their move.

Elsewhere, the general attack continued. Nungiirtok gravitic weapons, it seemed, couldn’t be used in close, and the fighter squadrons—what was left of them—were now circling within a few hundred meters of the surface, while the main fleet pulled back and out of range. A high-tech standoff had ensued, with the Nungies unable to inflict further damage on the fleet without getting closer, and the humans so far unable to crack their deadly, rocky egg. The other seven asteroids of the Nungie armada seemed to be holding off, uninvolved in the conflict, at least for the moment. Perhaps they weren’t armed. Perhaps they couldn’t fire at the fighters close to their flagship without damaging their own vessel. Perhaps . . .

Too many unknowns. Cordell focused on the mission at hand; he would worry about those other planetoid ships if they becamea direct threat.

“The bastards fired again!” a voice called over the squadron channel.

“I’m dry. No more nukes.”

“Ren Four and Ren Nine. Follow that rock and try to knock it off course! The rest of you, keep trying to shove nukes downthat thing’s throat!”

A dozen silver spheres approached, skimming the cratered surface. “Heads up, Ren Four! You’ve got company!”

“I see them! On it!”

The Nungie fighters were breaking off their orbit and streaming straight toward him. As they came closer, he could see thatthey were small, just a few meters wide, and they were fast and highly maneuverable. Their coordinated movements suggestedthat they quite possibly were robots. It was also possible that they were warheads of some sort, rather than actual fightercraft.

Cordell locked onto the nearest one and let go with a stream of depleted uranium slugs from the Starblade’s autocannon ashe worked to put himself between the oncoming objects and the Marines.

“All units! All units! This is Yorktown CIC! All units . . . you are ordered to stand down! Repeat, stand down immediately!”

What the hell?

“CIC, Renegade Leader. What’s the deal?” Forsley sounded furious. “We have them right where we want them!”

“Renegades, RTB. That is a direct order.”

RTB—return to base. But Cordell decided to bend his interpretation of the orders slightly, remaining with the Marines as theybegan abandoning their landing perimeter. With those fighters or whatever they were still closing, the Marines needed aircover.

The sphere he’d been shooting at descended sharply, slamming into the surface of the asteroid. Another exploded as he gaveit a long burst from his cannon. The recoil from the massive slugs at high velocity slammed his Starblade back, killing hisspeed and nearly knocking him to the surface, but he twisted into a tight roll and goosed it, flashing above the Marine perimeterjust as the last of the big Ravens lifted from the low-G surface in an expanding swirl of dust and accelerated into open space.

“Thanks for the assist, Ren Six,” a voice called in-head.

“You’re welcome, Marines,” he replied. Dumping velocity, he swung his fighter around the gravitational vortex projected justin front of his ship, then accelerated to