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"Why?"
"Because it's Daddy's job."
"I don't want you to go away!"
"I know, sweetie pie, but I have to go."
"I don't want you to!" In sympathetic reaction Michelle started to cry.
Shit. "I didn't want to get into this, honey, but maybe we could go down to Florida for the week. Mom would love to see the kids, I'm sure."
"Granma?"
"Yes, pumpkin, Granma."
"We're going to Granma's house!"
"We're going to Granma's house?" asked Cally, arriving late from a potty break.
"Honey, I don't know if I can get the time," said Sharon, automatically. "We're knee deep in modifying the F-22s."
"If Lockheed won't let you go under the circumstances, quit. It's not like we'll need the money and you could spend more time with the kids."
"Let's not talk about this now," she said, shaking her head. "Let's get Michelle and Cally to bed and then we'll talk."
"Okay."
* * *
After the children were tucked away Mike and Sharon pulled out a bottle of "the good stuff" and talked; it was a good way to wait up for Santa. Sharon, curled on the couch, brandy snifter in hand, tried as best she could to bring him up-to-date on the children's lives, all the little things that he had missed over the previous months. Mike, sitting on the floor, watching the lights of the Christmas tree blink, told her in greater detail about his work and about the overall preparation for the upcoming war. And, violating security, he finally told her about the full nature of the threat and what it meant.
"Everything?" asked Sharon, setting down her snifter.
"All the coastal plains. We just will not have the equipment to fight the Posleen by then. And that's just in the United States. Don't ask me about Third World countries."
"Then why are we sending a suit unit to Diess and Barwhon?" asked Sharon in bewilderment, picking the snifter up and taking a deep slug. The warm burn of the cognac helped reestablish her hard-won calm.
"A battalion of ACS will not be a deciding factor, at least that is what the High Command thinks and I agree."
"You mean the Joint Chiefs."
"No, I mean the High Command. How they're going to sell it, I don't know, but that's what the upper command echelon of the United States Defense Forces are going to be officially called. New service, new names. Like Line and Fleet and Strike Commands; out with the old, in with the new. The remainder of the Navy and Air Force that aren't being transferred to Fleet are going to be rolled into the whole, with the High Commander being an Army general. The part that no one is talking about is that it takes a layer of civilian control out of the military. There are some constitutional issues that I don't think are being fully explored.
"Anyway, we had hoped to earn enough funds from the units on Diess and Barwhon to equip multiple ACS units. But, because of procurement issues, the first equipment will go to the ACS units for the deployments to Barwhon and Diess. Only after their needs are satisfied will dedicated Terran Fleet Strike be supplied. But those Galactic-funded units are going to be parceled out to all the invaded planets, not just Earth. We need dedicated Ground Force ACS units, lots of them, and we probably won't have any when the first wave arrives.
"Some forces might get unpowered suits just before the invasion. Might. We've been fighting for training time but I don't think we'll get much." Mike sipped pale cognac and considered how to go on. There was so much he felt she should know, both as his partner and as a soon-to-be-recalled naval officer.
"We need a navy even more, but most naval units will still be under construction when the Posleen arrive. The battle wagons, the big guns that can go toe-to-toe with the globes, won't be available until about a year after the first wave hits, but before the second wave, thank God." Mike took a pause and looked particularly unhappy. "Which brings us to you."
"Why?"
"A little-known caveat of all these activities won't be little known for long. Fleet and Fleet Ground Strike perso
"Who would raise them?" asked Sharon, eyes widening. Mike realized that he probably should have spread the shocks out, but they had just run out of time.
"Probably an upper-class Indowy family."
"Would it be the planet I was stationed on?"
"Probably not. The guy who owes me a favor can get you off planet but not to a location of choice. It may be to the Terran Defense Task Force, or Titan Base, who knows. All I know is that I can get you off planet and I can't do the same thing for myself right now."
"Why?"
"That's not my mission. I'm slated for the Diess force, but only as an advisor on temporary duty, not as a permanent change of station, so it doesn't count as off planet. And, for that matter, the AEF perso
"How long are they going to be there?" asked Sharon.
"Nobody knows, but you have to be in Fleet or Fleet Strike to be considered for off-planet duty and the AEF units are not considered Fleet Strike, yet. Effectively, your salary has to come straight from the Federation, rather than through a planetary or national formation."
"So, I have to decide whether to have one of our children safe but separated from us both." Her face twisted into an expression he couldn't read.
"Not really. If you wish to blame me for arm twisting, feel free, but you had better take the position. I ca
"Nowhere on Earth will be completely safe. There are going to be shelters for less than ten percent of the population unless a miracle happens and I don't think, and this is a professional estimate, that the defenses for the shelters are going to work. Digging them underground is a waste of resources and, possibly, criminally stupid. If we leave the girls with family, we can leave them in Florida, which is going to be one vast abattoir, in northern California or in the Georgia mountains, on the back side of the continental divide. That's the safest by far but it's still too close to Atlanta."
"I can't believe that they would force me back into uniform given those conditions," Sharon said, furiously.
"Believe it. No one is avoiding service this time, not if they are even marginally qualified. We will both have responsibilities to meet. Family hardship will not be considered a recognized reason for discharge."
"Then I can't believe you want to leave them with your father," argued Sharon. She hated Mike when he was like this, he set up these logic juggernauts and just drove over everything in his path. Her own experience with lifer military, especially officers, had been less than pleasant.
"Dad's a kook, but the right kind of kook for the conditions," said Mike, trying to tack back towards a normal tone.