fighters survived, firing missiles or dropping bombs. In five places, multiple nuclear mushroom clouds appeared.
In the command center, a chair scraped back as a major stood, shaking her fists at the screen and cursing the Highborn.
Hawthorne sympathized. He hated the Highborn. He hated being on the defensive. But today they attacked. As he studied the figures, over thirty-four percent of the orbital fighters were destroyed. Against the Highborn, those were fantastic numbers.
The loss of so many orbital fighters and the space platforms must have stung the so-called Master Race. A Doom Star engaged its engines and began to move from its position behind Luna. The Doom Star at far-Earth orbit also began to accelerate. There were two Doom Stars in the Earth System, each far enough away so they were out of range of the merculite missiles and proton beams.
Before the first Doom Star could leave its lunar orbit, however, the Social Unity attack slackened. In this brief window of time, Hawthorne had expended a third of the Eurasian merculite missile reserve and burned out two of the proton beam cannons. It was the unprecedented scale of the attack that had won them the destruction of Highborn space targets.
To use more merculites would leave the heart of Social Unity on Earth dangerously exposed to another strike. Military Intelligence had discovered ten asteroids circling in far-Earth orbit. It was a grim reminder of Highborn power. Also, the very scale of the merculite missiles launched had resulted in a twenty-three percent degradation of launch capacity. That meant many of the blast pans used for the missile launches had been worn down and would require maintenance to function again.
The merculite missiles and the proton beams were meant as defensive weapons, primarily against any asteroids and the close approach of Doom Stars. The use of the carefully built-up stocks of missiles and the burning out of two proton beams weighed heavily on Hawthorne and on the men and women dedicated to the space defense of Earth. Despite the conference two days ago, it also cost Supreme Commander Hawthorne in perhaps the most critical area, his power base. Highly ranked military men and women questioned his decision. This was a gamble. The Highborn might very well use the depletion of defensive stocks to launch an all-out space attack on the Eurasian landmass.
Hawthorne shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Now was the critical moment. Now a small window was open to launch the supply convoy to Mars.
“Launch the Orion ships,” Hawthorne said.
The orders went out from the Joho Command Center, and then the military personnel waited. The probable success or failure of the Mars Campaign rested on what happened in these next few hours. The Orion ships had to get into space and past the Doom Stars before they could close the gap in their blockade around Earth.
***
Waiting in one of the many convoy vessels, was the prime clone of the late Madam Blanche-Aster. This clone had been the bodyguard who had survived the detonation of Mother aboard Hawthorne’s bullet train.
The clone’s name was Lisa Aster. As a former bodyguard, she knew guns, knives, unarmed combat and security arrangements. She was a master at kinetics and reading body language, trained to note the subtle signs of those readying themselves to kill. The late Madam Director’s death infuriated Lisa. She attributed it to the Neptune clone, the one tampered with by the cyborgs. Thus, Lisa hated the cyborgs and wanted to see them destroyed.
The clone Lisa Aster waited with thousands of other people aboard the Orion ships because Supreme Commander Hawthorne had given her a mission. Once the supply convoy reached Mars, she was supposed to study the cyborgs and discover their weaknesses.
Lisa Aster lay on an acceleration couch. Like stout General Fromm on the other couch, she wore a vacc-suit and a helmet. She had a buzz cut of pale hair and a narrow face with
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