"How close to the domed station is it?" Commodore Wells asked.
"Not even the same continent, sir, although there is a preliminary report of a smaller, fixed-base facility on the same continent as our people," the group leader answered. "Let me put the situation plot back up."
The projected image changed to an abstract holographic depiction of the planet. The image was rotated, revealing the sites under discussion.
"The newly discovered site is located here, near the ocean outlet of the same large river that flows next to the suspected Harrier site. We're bringing up photos, although they are quite oblique." The images changed, revealing a long-distance and coarse-grained depiction. "Strangely, IR gives us no imaging. We think the facility may be cold iron. Peregrine has scheduled an overflight within the hour."
"Go back to the Harrier site," Runacres ordered.
The reconnaissance image reappeared, and the group leader clicked in to maximum magnification. He positioned the laser pointer on the screen.
"Horses," he said. "Or something that looks like a horse."
"Horses!" Runacres exclaimed. "Domesticated animals would indicate an indigenous species, don't you think? Has there been time to domesticate wild animals?"
"I can't answer that, Admiral," the intelligence officer replied. "No one around here knows much about horses, although if there were an indigenous, village-building population on the planet, statistically, we should have discovered them much sooner. There would likely be many more sites, and those would likely be nearer the equator."
"Any more news on the satellites?" Sarah Merriwether asked.
"Sensors have detected seven satellites, Captain," the intelligence officer said. "Five appear to be downward-looking birds. The other two have intermittently tracked our units with surveillance radars, and one of them has been actively communicating. We estimate it to be a manned, er...so to speak—an alien ship with a crew onboard."
"It would appear our arrival is no longer a secret," Merriwether said. A funereal silence settled over the briefing room.
"Commander Quinn has requested permission to drop in," the group leader broke the spell. "She wants to put a lander on site. The area across the river has been terrain-mapped and qualified. The weather isn't cooperating, however. A heavy cloud layer has moved in, and surface winds are gale force and higher."
"Denied," Runacres replied. "I want more information and better conditions."
Commodore Well's communicator sounded an override alert. "Admiral, we have detected multiple up-Doppler radars in search mode," he announced. "Something's headed our way, and fast."
Runacres snapped to his feet. "Set General Quarters, battle-stations. Direct Tasmania to go active," Runacres ordered. "Group leader, intercept and destroy all contacts."
"Standard warning messages, Admiral?" the corvette commander asked.
"Intercept and destroy, Captain."
* * *
"Colonel Longo," the technician reported. "Telemetry has terminated. Analysis suggests our probes were destroyed. Enemy radar emissions have also terminated."
Longo cared not. He had located the enemy fleet. At least six and as many as eight large interstellars had been imaged. The position fix was firm, and PDF interceptors were already accelerating toward datum, without the need to employ search radars.
He looked at the scientists kneeling before him.
"We must terminate our interview," Longo ordered. "Your loyalty will be rewarded, and your services will be requested in the future."
Scientists Mirrtis and H'Aare bowed obsequiously and departed. Longo watched them crawl away, realizing that, despite Emperor-General Gorruk' s instructions, he would not kill all of the aliens. An avenue to power was opening.
Chapter 40
Spring Again
Lee's infant was named Hope, and Hope grew fat and healthy. Lee did not die. She clung to life, but a profound weakness hung over her, just as winter held sway over the valley—deep and cold. Fenstermacher doted on her, staying at her side to the exclusion of his other duties, and Buccari overlooked his dereliction in favor of his dedication, for the shy and unassuming Lee was everyone's friend; all hands anguished for her recovery. Lee's invalid condition punctuated the universal feeling of helplessness that grew with every continuing day of endless winter. Spring—would it ever return?
A tired mantle of snow layered the ground in crusty, porous drifts, and yet the harsh absolutes of winter had softened; inquisitive rodents, energetic birds, and darting insects made tentative appearances. Nothing green yet, but the nude tree limbs swelled imperceptibly, and hints of bud color shaded the extremities of branches. The warm breath of spring descended lightly upon the dirty mirror of winter.