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Authors: Dain White

Archaea (24 page)

BOOK: Archaea
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The main concern I had was the klystrons – they are a series of high-frequency oscillators that were used to energize the plasma, which was then fed through the stepper pumps into the torus. They took a fair amount of juice to work, though, and I just wasn't sure I had enough to go around.

I was really stretched to the limit of my skills as a shade tree mechanic here, but I guess if anyone could pull this rabbit out of a hat, it'd be me.

 

*****

 

“Captain, I am currently extrapolating a possible position for seven targets approaching our position from the far side of the destroyer.” Janis said.

“Yak?” the captain asked from behind me.

I flipped through the screens and zoomed, but the destroyer was a massive dark spot on the screen, like a wall.

“Janis, I am not seeing the targets you are referring to. Are they on screen?”

“They are not at this
time; I am not able to pinpoint their exact location at this time. I am tracking minute perturbations in the mass-analysis and movement vectors for local-area gravimetrics, and have identified seven possible sources for the changes.”

I turned around and raised one of my eyebrows at the captain.

“Yak, good try son, but you need to cultivate more of a sense of the overly dramatic, or that poor eyebrow will never command the respect and love of your peers.”

He showed me how it's done, and ratcheted up an eyebrow high enough to need collision lights.

“ Janis, are you tracking these targets by the changes their mass is making on the local-area gravity map?” he said, with a wink to me.

“That's correct sir. I am afraid I am not able to identify range or velocity, but my best-case analysis places the targets at extreme range.”

“How extreme?”

“Between 4900 and 5100 kilometers, best solution for a heading places them somewhere between three- and four-o'clock low.”

“Coming in from the far side of the destroyer, sure enough”, agreed the captain, drumming a little flamenco beat on his armrest and sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

“Gene, you crotchety old coot, how are we doing over there? Are you ready for love and affection?”

“I'm ready for respect, damn you...”

“Sorry Gene, I am currently fresh out of that. Can I offer you abject terror, or fear? I have some of that handy...”

“What the hell are you blathering on about now? Did I mention at some point lately that I was a little busy?”

“I seem to recall something like that, Gene. So do you want the bad news?”

“No, I want the good news. Always the good news first, then the bad news.”

“Well, today just isn't your lucky day Gene,
I am fresh out of good news. I have bad news, abject terror, and good old fashioned fear. I suppose I could let you have a little of my extra panic, I seem to have more than my share at the moment.”

The comms were silent, a slight hiss his only response.

“Gene?”

“Yes Dak, what is it?”

“Have I told you yet how much I appreciate all the hard work you're doing?”

“I am 60 seconds from done here, but I would move a lot faster if you would stop talking at me.”

“I guess I can give you 45 seconds, Gene. No problem.”

Another slight hiss of static on the comms.

“Gene... It's been 30 seconds, just like I promised....”

“Ok damn you, I am done. Now listen... I have my hand on the switch, and when I pull it, this tokamak is going to light off and burn brightly until a very inevitable conclusion puts this entire sector of space on a fast track to doom. Are you one-hundred-percent certain you want me to pull this lever?”

“Are you still talking? Pull it Gene, and beat feet back here on the double. That is a direct order mister.”

I turned around again, but he wasn't smiling any longer. His game face was on and playtime was over.

 

*****

 

As soon as Gene closed the outer door of the upper lock, I blew the bolts and dropped the Archaea away from the massive hulk of the destroyer. I gave everyone 20 seconds to wave goodbye before I mashed the GQ alarm and set zebra on board. It was time to skedaddle, time to get back to work.

Time to go!

The crash bars snuggled around me, I checked to make sure Yak was situated, and called back to Pauli in the sick bay.

“Pauli, I need you in the spare berth and belted down son. Is our patient secure?”

“He is sir, and I am as well. His breathing is good, and his vitals are all green, so I think we're ready back here.”

“Sounds good son. I'm dropping the spin on that ring, so hold on to your lunch. Give me a shout if there's anything I need to know. Are you patched in to Janis from there?”

“I sure am, sir, I have everything I need on my handscreen at the moment. Janis can set me up with whatever is needed from here.”

“Very good. All hands – stand by for acceleration.”

I mashed the acceleration alarm, more because I like to hear it than anything, it has a really cool warble sound that I know drives Gene crazy.

“Sir, I now have position and vector on seven bogeys, right about where Janis said they would be, sir.” Yak said.

“Thank you Yak, please keep an eye on them, though I am not too concerned.

“Gene, are we ready?”

“Good-to-go, Captain.”

“Thank you, Gene. Janis, you have the conn. Please take us out of here at all possible speed, dear.”

“Aye sir, I have the conn. Accelerating now.”

She said it so calmly, but I was not at all prepared for what happened next. The bottom dropped out of my soul, as the reac drive thundered into full life, maximum burn.

“Sir, I have incoming torpedoes from all seven bogeys, range 3800 kilometers and closing.”

“Thank you Yak. Please keep me posted” I heard myself say through lips that felt like they were being torn off my face. I think I sounded calm, but I couldn't be sure, right about then Janis warmed up the pseudomass generator and the pedal went through the floor.

I felt nothing else but like I was falling, and falling fast. Down, down down. Faster and faster, we hurtled into the dark like bad news. As hard as we were burning, our descent towards this pit ahead of us was faster, pulling us forward tightly against the crash bars, until I felt like I was about to slide though them into steaming square chunks.

“Stand by for course correction.” Janis said, as calm as if she was remarking on how nice the weather was in Vega 6 this time of year. I felt my stomach convulse as down became sideways, and I struggled valiantly to hold my coffee.

“Yak, report. Are the torps closing?” I hissed through teeth clenched tight.

“No sir... Their range is increasing rapidly sir.”

“Impressive... son... damn... this... OOF” I said involuntarily, not my most shining moment of command, as down became down, and I felt like I was about to fall into my own shoes.

“Gene, how are we... “ I paused as against all odds, coffee spewed out of my nose as we suddenly fell straight up. What a waste of good coffee, I heard an alarmingly distant inner voice say.

“Uuuunnngghhhhh” I told everyone, eloquently enough for the moment.

“Sir...green...all good....” Gene gasped; the background in his station sounding like the inside of a jackhammer shooting bees armed with machine guns all firing at once.

My head was starting to unravel – I was starting to think incredibly weird thoughts, even for me. I was remembering all sorts of strange things, the smell of freshly mown grass, the shiny nose of my third-grade teacher – I wondered why triangle-shaped foods tasted so good.

Janis said something else, but the blood in my ears turned it into a jazzy little number played on French horn and trombone, I think it was a countdown.

At this point, my eyes were starting to fade away, everything around me looked gray, and I could only focus on what was directly in front of me. The view from the forward port was mostly dark, but the
view on my screens was alarmingly full of all kinds of terrifying information that I had to admit I really didn't understand.

Somewhere I heard Jane screaming, or crying – maybe she was cheering, I couldn't tell. I think I joined in, but everything was going red. Soft, cloud-like dreams reached up into my head and started to pull me back down inside myself, taking me away, and I wanted to go, I welcomed it with open arms.

It was about that moment, when a sudden shove in my back hit us so hard stars squirted out of my eyes and started crawling like little glowing spiders in the air around me. The forward port was full of fire, streaming waves of light, energy, vaporizing and ionizing as it blasted past us at nearly the speed of light – it didn't look all that fast.

“Sir, we are at minimum safe distance, stand by for zero-g and evolution to slipspace” I heard Janis say, but I couldn't answer. I tried, desperately, but I couldn't even make one single witty comment.

Chapter 12

 

“Damage Report”, I heard someone say, and realized it was me.

A low hum in the background my only answer. I looked around, and my head felt like it was mounted on a rusty gimbal, my neck muscles were beyond sore, they were aflame.

“Janis, can you hear me?”

“Yes Captain. I can hear you.”

“Are we safe, dear?” I reach for my coffee, but the cup is gone.

“Yes Captain. We are currently slipspacing on the final leg of our course. Estimated arrival at Vega system is 23 hours, sir.”

I moved my head around slowly, and saw my coffee cup lodged along the leeward edge of the forward port. Finally, I had motivation to try moving.

I unlocked the crash bars and winced as I moved. My shoulders, neck, arms, legs... damn near every bit of me was sore, and it felt like I might have a few sprung ribs.

“Janis, did we reach minimum safe distance? I don't seem to be glowing...” I checked both hands, just to make sure. 

“Yes sir, we did, though I am afraid it was extremely close. While we didn't have the margin of safety I would have preferred, exposure to radioactive particles were well within nominal levels, sir.”

“And the destroyer?” I ask, carefully extricating myself from a captain-shaped dent deep in the cushions of my couch.

“Sir, my best estimation of the blast yield was 43 megatons-equivalent. Nothing in that sector of space would have remained.”

I winced, as I kicked forward through the bridge. I found myself facing one of the worst moral dilemmas of my entire career. Check on Yak, or collect my coffee cup.

Luckily for Yak, my sense of duty, my integrity, my overwhelming feelings of responsibility won through, and I decided to recover my coffee cup first, as I was a more effective and considerate captain, if I was an alert captain. I simply couldn't give my crew anything less than my very best.

“Are you going to just sleep all day, Yak?” I asked as I floated past his station, but didn't get an answer. He twitched a bit, but that was all I could get out of him. I decided from the looks of him, he needed a little extra beauty sleep, and I really didn't need him on station at the moment.

“Gene? Shorty? Pauli?” I keyed into the 1MC... but no one wanted to talk to me, I guess. Not that I really blame them. My head felt like it had been used to tan leather, and I had aches and pains layered ten-deep all over my body. I took a few moments to just float, staring at nothing for a while.

“Captain, are you okay?” Shorty said, floating into the bridge. The white of her eyes had gone red, and some dried blood had crusted around her nostrils.

“I've been better, Shorty, but I'm not too bad, considering. We're still here, which is better than the alternative... I guess.” I winced, as a fresh pain rippled down my port-side ribs. “Grab that med-pack, and let's see if we can wake up sleeping beauty.”

We popped a smelling salt under Yak's nose and his eyes snapped open and looked around, startled that there was something more to life than a dreamy cloud.

“Yak, your eyes!” Shorty exclaimed, reaching out to touch him on the cheek. He looked pretty bad, the whites of his eyes looked like they were full of blood.

“Hi Jane...Captain...” He winced as he tried to turn his head over to look at me.

“Take it easy
son; you've been knocked around pretty good.”

“I feel like I've gone 10 rounds, sir...” He looked over at Jane and took a moment to focus. “Jane, you're bleeding!”

“It was just a nose bleed, Yak, nothing to worry about.” she looked down at the dried blood that had spattered across the front of her shirt. “I do look a bit gruesome though, now that you mention it.”

Right then Gene floated in, a fresh coffee in one hand, and a med-pack in the other. He had a purple goose egg lump on the side of his forehead, but he wasn't letting that stop him from being grouchy.

“How long have I been out?” He asked, fixing me with a look as if this was all somehow my fault.

“Not very long, Gene, just a few minutes... We're currently slipping down the last leg to Vega, and for once, we all have nothing urgent, no fires... at least I hope not...” I knocked on wood, just to make sure I didn't offend the ancient druid spirits of portent.

BOOK: Archaea
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