Johnny Winger and the Europa Quandary
Page 13
***Full propulsors…coming to intercept heading*** he announced. The swarm wafted out of the airlock and turned to meet the oncoming cloud that was moving inexorably toward the Francis Bacon.
Aboard the Bacon’s command deck, Captain Amirante realized what had happened. He didn’t have time to order Smithers back inside; Bacon was about to be engulfed. It was about to become a very bad day for cycler ship UNS-225.
“Simonets, all back full…get us out of here!”
Ship’s Engineer Simonets was already stoking ship’s thrusters, trying to wheel the great kebab skewer with onions that was the Francis Bacon about. “Full thrusters now, Captain…she just can’t turn about fast enough—“
“Range to swarm--?”
Simonets checked Ranging. “Less than five hundred meters…we’re coming about, but they’re still closing…now four hundred eighty.”
“Jeez, what kind of propulsors have they got?”
“We’ve got Lieutenant Smithers on scope…he’s two hundred and fifty meters from swarm centroid…outer elements may be in range. Detecting no engagement yet…no EM spikes, nothing—“
Amirante had the impression that the whole attack was taking place in slow motion, that somehow he had stepped outside of himself and was looking down on his own body barking our orders on the command deck. It was a pleasant, almost intellectual illusion.
He shook himself out of the daze.
“Sound collision. Activate EAB…get all the pressure doors closed and sealed now! The bastards are going to be on us in a minute—“
The first effects took less time than that.
Suddenly, alarm warnings and sirens sounded throughout the ship. Hull breach.
“It’s aft, Captain! C deck, looks like one of the Stores lockers…outer hull breach…pressure drop increasing!”
“Deploy patch bots!” At Amirante’s order, swarms of onboard nanobots configured to quickly patch and seal small hull breaches were released. White fog was already forming around the gangway entrance and Amirante felt his ears popping as air rushed aft to the breach. “Get that hole sealed!”
Simonets could barely hear the Captain over the roar of the air. Pens, cups, loose papers swirled in the entrained hurricane. “More breaches! C Deck…it’s the lifepod docking ring…and now B deck, the mast tunnel…multiple breaches…we’re losing pressure fast--!”
“All hands, lay aft to the lifepods…prepare to abandon ship…get those pods up and operating—“
“Already underway, Captain—“ Simonets gritted his teeth, trying to equalize pressure. His eyeballs were about to burst, his ears already had. A thin stream of blood was quickly sucked out and joined the cyclone building around them.
Three hundred meters away, the Smithers angel swarm was closely rapidly on the enemy.
***Approaching outer bands now…I have my propulsors on max…effectors out…bond disrupters primed…closing now…less than twenty meters to first contact--***
The first sign of engagement was a bright line snaking through space just off Bacon’s portside truss, up by A deck, the command deck. A flashing ribbon danced around the edges of the ship as uncounted trillions of mechs collided.