Part 44 (1/2)
Falcone scratched at his stubbly chin. ”We got some in inventory already... I'll get the chem lab to turn out as much as they can.”
”But will it be enough?”
”Dunno,” Falcone answered. Then he brightened. ”Wait a minute,” he said, looking excited. ”It could get even better.”
”What?”
”If we can divert enough power from the solar farms to the microwave antennas on Yeager-”
”a.s.suming Wix's beam gun works and the farms aren't nuked,” Anson interjected.
”Yeah, yeah,” Falcone said impatiently. ”Anyway, gimme enough power for the microwave transmitters and we can fry the Peacekeeper troops while they're still up in the pa.s.s.”
Doug felt his brows knitting. ”What're you saying, Vince?”
”The troops'll be in suits, right? Lotsa metal in their suits. A microwave beam of sufficient strength'll heat up the metal, even penetrate the suits and cook the guys inside!”
Anson nearly came up out of her chair. ”You can wipe 'em out up there in the pa.s.s before they ever get near us!”
”No!” shouted Edith.
Surprised, Doug turned toward her.
”No, you can't do that,” Edith said, her face set with determination.
”Whattaya mean we can't?” Falcone snapped. ”I haven't gone through the numbers but I'm willing to bet-”
”You mustn't kill any of them,” Edith said.
”Mustn't kill...?”
”How can we fight 'em if we can't kill 'em?”
Edith edged forward slightly in her seat. ”The worst thing you can do, the absolute worst, is to kill any of the Peacekeepers.”
Doug realized what she was driving at. ”Captain Munasinghe,” he muttered.
”Right. Faure tried to make a martyr out of him, tried to use him to work up public opinion against you.”
”But he killed himself,” Debbie Paine said. ”It wasn't our fault.”
”Okay,” said Edith. ”Now imagine what happens if you cook a hundred Peacekeeper troops. Picture what the media Earthside will do with that.”
Silence descended on the office again, gloomier and deeper than before.
”We've been working for weeks now to present Moonbase's side of this story to the media, the weak little guys being bullied by the big, bad U.N. and Peacekeepers,” Edith said. ”And it's starting to work. Public relations polls in the States and Europe show that the people are rooting for us and against the U.N.”
”With that and five bucks I can buy a cup of coffee,” Falcone grumbled.
”Your claim of independence is coming up before the World Court in a few months,” Edith went on. ”You need need to have the best possible public image.” to have the best possible public image.”
”And that means we can't kill the soldiers attacking us?” Anson demanded.
”That's exactly what it means,” said Edith heatedly. ”Right now a lot of people Earthside are on your side. The underdog always get sympathy. But you start sending body bags back to Earth and your support will evaporate d.a.m.ned quick.”
”So we could win the battle and lose the war,” Doug said.
Nodding, Edith answered, ”That's what it comes down to. Kill Peacekeeper troops and you'll just convince everybody Earthside that Faure is right. They'll come at you with still more troops. Or missiles, or whatever it takes to wipe you out.”
”So we can't kill the Peacekeepers,” Falcone muttered, unbelievingly.
”Then how do we keep them from taking over?” Anson wondered aloud.
Doug echoed her. ”How can we win the battle without killing any of the enemy?”
”d.a.m.ned good question,” Clemens murmured.
For long moments no one said a word. Finally Doug turned to Gordette.
”Bam, how can you stop soldiers without killing them?”
They all turned to Gordette, still sitting by the door. Doug saw the distrust, the outright repugnance on their faces; he wondered what Gordette saw, what he felt.
Gordette looked them over with a gaze that swept the small, crowded office. Then, turning to face Doug squarely, he said, ”You'll have to incapacitate them.”
”How?”
Gordette c.o.c.ked his head to one side, thinking. ”They'll all be in s.p.a.cesuits. They'll be linked by their suit radios. Can you jam their communications?”
Doug said, ”We ought to be able to do that.”
”If they can't talk back and forth they'll lose their cohesiveness. Instead of a battalion they'll be a handful of individuals.”
”Like ants!” Paine exclaimed. ”One ant by itself is pretty useless. But a whole nest of them can mount an invasion of another nest.”
”Cut off their communications,” Doug repeated.
”Not enough,” said Falcone. ”You'll still have few hundred soldiers armed with guns and whatnot. They can be directed by hand signals, for chrissakes.”
”Not if they are blind,” rumbled Zimmerman.
”What?”
”I have been stupid,” Zimmerman said, shaking his jowly head. ”Invisible I cannot make you... but I can make them them blind!” blind!”
”Blind them? How?”
”Simple,” said the professor. ”Let them come into our tunnels. We fill the air with nanomachines that cling to their visors and darken them so they cannot see.”
Doug immediately asked, ”Can the bugs cling to their suits, too? Jam up their joints, immobilize them?”