Ballistic (The Palladium Wars), стр. 86
“Now what the hells is going on, Colors?” the young private in the seat next to hers asked.
Idina shrugged.
“I haven’t the slightest idea, Private. I guess we’ll find out in a minute. But I’m guessing we won’t be docking at the spin station in ninety minutes.”
Annoyed, Idina walked back across the gangway with short steps that made the metal clang. Nothing on the outside of the shuttle gave any indication why they had aborted the launch. There were no emergency pods pulling up on the outside, and nobody had directed them to hurry with the disembarkation, so she guessed it wasn’t a critical technical defect.
She didn’t even register how quiet it was inside the transit lounge until she was already half a dozen steps into it. Everyone in the room was paying attention to the information screens on the wall, which all showed the same visuals, high-altitude shots of a structure on fire. All around her, people were opening smaller screens on their comtabs to check their own information sources. Idina looked at the feed on the lounge screens, and a sinking feeling materialized in her stomach.
“What’s happening, Corporal?” she asked a nearby brigade trooper.
“There’s been a nuclear strike on Rhodia, Colors,” the young corporal said. “Just a few minutes ago.”
“You have got to be joking.”
The corporal just shook his head. He turned his attention back to the nearest screen, and Idina followed suit. The images on the screen were underscored by a scrolling band of text updates.
. . . WARHEAD IN THE TWENTY-KILOTON RANGE. PRELIMINARY REPORTS SUGGEST TWENTY THOUSAND CASUALTIES, BUT THE INITIAL ESTIMATE IS ALMOST CERTAIN TO CLIMB. RHODIAN FLEET COMMAND HAS ISSUED A PLANETARY DEFENSE CONDITION ONE ALERT FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE GRETIAN WAR. EMERGENCY PERSONNEL ON THE PLANET ARE IN FULL MOBILIZATION . . .
Who the hells got a nuke through those defenses? Idina thought. This has got to be a mistake.
But then one of the screens showed an inset from a sensor feed on the ground. From the perspective, Idina could tell that it was maybe fifty kilometers away from the event. The mushroom cloud from the thermonuclear detonation was unmistakable. The sight of it made Idina’s heart sink with dread. Fusion plants didn’t explode when they malfunctioned. Only a high-order fission event would produce such a cloud, and the only use anyone had for that dirty and dangerous old technology was in atomic warheads, precisely because the tech was dirty and dangerous.
“What did they hit?” she asked the corporal.
“One of the arcologies. They say it’s on fire. The Rhodies went to PLADEC-1.”
“Well, I fucking bet they did.”
Every single duty comtab in the room went off with the attention-seeking chirp of a military priority message. All around her, there was a flurry of movement as everyone took their devices out of their pockets or made screens in the air in front of them to check the incoming comm.
This isn’t likely to be good, Idina thought as she pulled out her own device and activated it.
FROM: SUPREME HEADQUARTERS, ALLIANCE MILITARY COMMAND
TO: ALL ALLIANCE UNITS AND PERSONNEL
RED ALERT, RED ALERT—EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, ALL ACTIVE ALLIANCE UNITS ARE ORDERED TO FULL COMBAT ALERT STATUS LEVEL RED. ALL LEAVES AND MOVEMENT ORDERS ARE HEREBY CANCELED. ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO YOUR UNITS WITHOUT DELAY. HOSTILITIES EXPECTED OR IMMINENT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
She took a few slow breaths to keep her heart rate low, then pocketed her device again.
“You read the message,” she said loudly into the room. “Everyone get your asses moving and report to your units. For those of you who are unsure, that’s the place you came from before you got on that shuttle. Even if you have movement orders.”
“What about our kit, Colors?” the young corporal next to her said. “All our gear is still on the shuttle.”
“Report to your unit. You are still wearing your uniform, aren’t you? If there’s something that needs shooting soon, they’ll give you your weapons and your armor. Your toiletries can wait.”
“Yes, Colors.” He rushed off, seemingly happy to get some authoritative direction.
“Anyone with the JSP company, form on me,” she called out. “Come on, people. The enemy aren’t going to wait around.”
Whoever the fuck the enemy is, she thought as the JSP troopers in the room made their way toward her.
“Attention all personnel,” an overhead announcement sounded. “Alliance High Command has ordered an indefinite flight stop for all inbound and outbound Gretia space traffic, effective 1220 hours Universal Time. All scheduled transports are canceled until further notice. All personnel, report to your units immediately.”
Idina looked at the anxious faces of the scattered JSP personnel that were now gathering around her. She was willing to bet good money that this was their first full-scale Level Red combat alert that had ended with the words “This is not a drill.” Her last live one had been half a decade ago, when they had started the occupation of Gretia. None of these kids was higher than corporal in rank, and none looked to be older than twenty-one.
“All right,” she said when they had all assembled in a loose cluster. “Let’s find some transportation. And if we can’t source any in this mess, it’s an easy two-klick run back to the company building.”
As they moved toward the exit as a group, with Idina in the center, she thought about Dahl, and wondered whether the captain had been off the base already when the Level Red alert had sounded. Right now, the base was getting sealed off from the outside world, and no traffic would pass through the main gate in either direction for a good while.
I can probably find you a bunk and a meal somewhere, Captain Dahl, she thought. Let’s just hope we’re not about to look at mushroom clouds of our own down here before nightfall.
Outside, the base was in a state of controlled chaos. The group pod that