“We’re scheduled to begin the trip home in two days. Is there anything we should do in light of this new development?” Rachel asked. “Something to prepare for this threat?”
“We can calibrate the radar systems to look for the projectiles that damn gun shoots. G2?
“Yes, Larry? How may I be of assistance?”
“Can our radar system detect projectiles the railgun fires?”
“Unknown. The test was conducted on the other side of the Earth, most likely to prevent direct observation from this space station. I know the composition of the projectiles, but at the velocity they travel, and the fact that there will be little radar cross section as they approach this station head on, it appears that detection will be problematic,” replied G2.
“Son of a bitch,” said Larry. “This is serious. What if they fire a salvo at us? We may not see them until they start hitting the station, or at least the shields. G2, how many of those projectiles would it take to overload the shields?”
“Based on estimates of the kinetic energy each projectile represents, anything over a dozen could seriously degrade the performance of the shields. A sustained bombardment would necessitate moving the station out of the line of fire. Since the projectiles only travel in a straight line once fired, it will be easy to avoid serious harm. I calculate that the risk from that weapon system is serious, but only if the shields experience multiple hits in a very short amount of time,” G2 concluded. “Is there anything else I may assist you with, Larry?”
“No, G2. Thank you.”
Cheryl laughed. “It’s always something with those mopes down there,” she said, hooking her thumb toward Earth. “What we need is an early warning system for anything shot in this direction from Earth. We can’t always rely on G2 to suss out being fired on in advance, or even in time. And we can’t relocate the station out of range or behind the moon because that’s going to make intercepting launches from Earth a hell of a lot more difficult. So, what do we do?”
“Whatever we decide, if it requires something built at home, it’s going to have to wait until the next crew is slated for return,” Rachel pointed out.
“Or, someone is going to have to make a special trip,” Jonathan said.
“What if we had a millimeter wave radar satellite at the L5 point out by the ISS and GST space stations? It would be in stable orbit, and it could sweep the space between Earth and here. Have Peanut’s guys throw some monster shields around it just in case they find out what it’s for and it could do the trick. Let me send Peanut a message. I’ll mention the radar satellite idea, but his team may figure out something even better,” Larry said, sitting down at one of the station’s Ops consoles.
“Are we really sure they’d try to take out the station or our jumpers?” Rachel asked.
“A wise comedian once said that people are only as faithful as their options. Look what Chris had to do to get them to turn Julius and Lucius loose. They’re dying to get hold of our tech, they’d kill anyone, thousands even, if it would get them the G-wave technology,” Jonathan said, shaking his head.
“In any case, let’s you, me and Rachel get back to work cleaning up and packing for the trip home. Larry, you need any help with the data packet?” Cheryl asked.
Larry shook his head, “Nope. I just want to include anything G2 recorded to append to the package, then I’ll help. Give me about a half hour.”
The others adjourned to the living quarters deck and continued packing their personal items. Jonathan went down to the “shop” deck, putting away tools, repair components and generally straightening up. He also entered into the log suggested supplies and stores for the next incoming crew to bring, kicking himself for not having done so before the incoming replacement crew had left home. When he finished, he went back to the living quarters and saw that the women had completed the bulk of the packing and had a pile of laundry to do. He gathered up the pile and took it to the station’s laundry area and dumped it in a bin to be washed later.
Rachel was doing inventory in the kitchen of the food stores, dry, refrigerated and frozen, knowing that the replacement crew was bringing supplies of their own. While she continued the consumables inventory, Larry showed up, having finished his report to Ops, and seeing she had everything well in hand, he went down to the environmental deck and started the survey of the hydroponics and fish tanks. He went to one of the terminals and logged in to find out if the incoming crew was bringing anything that would need any of the unused tanks. He was surprised to see that there was a load of crawfish and fifty lobsters incoming.
Larry pulled up the environmental specifications for each species, started filling two separate tanks and set the recommended temperatures for the water. He then looked up the chemicals needed. They must have a crap load of lobsters back home if they can send this many out to the station, he thought as he checked the water reserves. Their repair of the storage tank was holding up, and since they had no trouble replenishing the reserve tank from the Icelandic lake, Larry was certain they’d be fine, even with two reserve hydroponics tanks being prepared for occupation.
He skimmed the feces from the bottom of the trout tank, fed the trout, entering the date and amount into the station’s log, then returned to the living quarters.
* * *
“Come in,” Senator Murphy called out, hearing the knock on the compartment door.
“We’ll be docking at Pearl in about ninety minutes, Senator,” the Captain said, peeking into the compartment.
“Thank you, Captain. Do you have a minute?”
“Absolutely, ma’am,” he said entering. He cocked an eyebrow at the door.
“Yes, please close the door.” Once the door was closed, she continued, “I would like to thank you for putting up with my aide Alex and me during the exercise. I even enjoyed the evacuation drill, wet as I got.”
Captain Parker grinned. “Sorry about that. We do try to make the exercises as authentic as possible, that way our sailors get to practice as close to reality as we can get it without endangering anyone’s life. CPO Evans told me you jumped from the rail into the drink like a pro. He was very impressed.”
“I was on the swim and diving teams in school, it was fun, given the circumstances, Captain. But the reason I wanted to have a private conversation with you was to ask your opinion on the railgun live fire exercise.”
“Ma’am?”
“It’s nothing about the exercise itself, that was as straight forward as it was extraordinary. To hit a target less than two meters in diameter over five hundred kilometers away, moving over thirty thousand kilometers an hour was an extraordinary feat of marksmanship. And normally, I would be content with the explanation you gave for SECNAV scheduling the test. However, could that same weapon be used against the colonists in lunar orbit?”
The lack of surprise on Captain Parker’s face was answer enough. She continued. “Can you see how futile an effort that would be? How ridiculous an attempt shooting at their space station is in reality?
“The tech specs on the weapon system states that the projectiles leave the muzzle traveling at ten miles a second. The space station is just as far away as the moon, that’s what—about three hundred seventy thousand kilometers away from Earth? That means that anything fired from here is going to take six and a half hours to reach their space station. Kind of hard sneaking up on someone when you’ve got so many miles to cover out in the open.”
“And you’re telling me this—why?” Parker asked.
“No special reason. As the President of the United States would never authorize such an attack, I guess my speculation is moot. You understand me, Captain?”
Parker didn’t answer for several moments, his eyes never left hers. He then slowly nodded, crossed to the door and left without a word. Moments later there was another knock at her door, this time it was her aide.
“Hey, Alex. What’s up?” she asked once he was in the room with the door closed.
“He knew what I was not saying. But he’s a closed-mouth son of a bitch. He may not know exactly what the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs has planned. And the President is no one’s fool. She’s been fighting with the military ever since she took office,” she said.
“I can tell you this, none of the senior ranks here believed that the exercise was a test of the satellite shoot-down capability of the railgun. They all believe the test was a precursor to some larger attack.”
“How the hell did you find all that out?” she asked.
“Oh, I have my ways. I just asked them about existential threats to the country and how they would respond, then just let them talk,” Alex explained.
“You know, you and my ex have that in common. He could get anyone to tell him their darkest secrets with no effort whatsoever. So what it’s looking like is that if these high-powered railguns they have deployed everywhere are going to be used to attack the colonists’ space station, it’s a fair bet that they’ll have plenty of time to dodge the bullets, or whatever they’re called, given how far they have to travel.”
“Presumably,” said Alex. “What kind of f-ing idiot wants to provoke those people given what they’ve already demonstrated? There’s some kind of pervasive insanity at the bottom of military thinking. I don’t think the military leadership in this country truly believes that the colonists have the technological upper hand, even with the video documentation from the White House and the Russian Space Operations Control Center.”
“Was the reporter around when you talked to the senior staff?”
Alex cocked an eyebrow, “Really? You think I’d be that careless?”
Murphy laughed. “My bad. And yes, I should know better. I’m meeting with him in an hour. He wants comments on the RIMPAC exercise for his article, and I’m guessing where I sit on increasing military spending. I’m going to pump him, carefully of course, to see what his impressions were, maybe a leading question or two about the live fire exercise. I want to get to the bottom of just what the chairman has in mind.”
“And I’ll keep poking around to see if there’s anything else I can find out. If I do, I’ll catch you once we disembark,” Alex promised.
“See you then.”
* * *
Aidan and Bob Nakamura were finishing up the final adjustments to the mounts for Valerie’s projectors, now attached to the ceiling in her upstairs VR studio. The walls were already painted with highly reflective, glass bead impregnated white paint.
“Nice work gentlemen. Now all I have to is calibrate the projector and we’re cooking with gas!” Valerie said, excitedly.
“Have you given any thought to who you might license the technology to?” Bob asked. “If you do, I can tell some of our high-ticket customers who buy their parts through us to get hold of you.”
“That would be great. But give me some time to refine the underlying software and to fully test transmission and rendering speed between my place and Aiden’s lab in Colorado. But you’ve been invaluable. Let’s tidy up, I’m going to take us to lunch,” she promised.
Aidan and Bob put everything away in Valerie’s shop, then washed up. When they returned upstairs, the walls of the entire VR suite were covered with thousands of dots, and that Valerie had four digital cameras aimed covering all four walls.
“I have the computer set up to see the dots in order to calibrate the projector. If you look over there, you can just see the dots changing color as the computer adjusts focus,” she said, pointing to one of the walls. A dot winked out for a moment, then came back as the computer was moving its focus across the room.
“Ready to eat?” asked Valerie.
“Ready when you are,” Aidan replied.
The three piled into Valerie’s car and took off toward downtown Oakland. Once they arrived at the restaurant, a very upscale Japanese venue where the food was cooked at the table, they were immediately led to the table Valerie reserved. The three excitedly
speculated on how Valerie’s new technology would impact simulators of all kinds, or how it could replace “green screen” effects in movies and television shows. However, once their cook arrived with all the fixings, they called a halt to the speculation, turning their attention to the cook’s artistry, performance, and patter.
When they had consumed everything, as well as a light sherbet, Valerie paid the bill, adding a generous tip for their cook. They then they piled into her car and headed back to her house.
Once they arrived, Bob informed them he had another appointment. Aidan warmly shook Bob’s hand, “It was a real pleasure to work with you.”
Valerie hugged Bob and handed him an envelope, “Not a word. What you did here was remarkable, and I owe you big time. Thank you, Bob. I’ll stop by the shop and see you soon.”
They watched as Bob drove off. When he was out of sight, he peeked inside the envelope only to be surprised to discover $5,000 in hundred-dollar bills.
“That was nice of you,” Aidan said.
“We would still be assembling all these units if he hadn’t lent a hand, and he’s good, damn good. He should be compensated for his work. I think he’s wasted at his job at the shop, but he told me he does fairly well with the side jobs that come his way.”
“No I get that, but you’re still nice. You’re a real professional, and with unaccustomed doses of integrity and heart. Plus, the nicest cutthroat businessperson one will never meet,” he said, giving her a hug.
“You old softy! Come on, let’s look at how much of the calibration is completed.”
They checked in on the VR system and found it was about half done.
“So it looks like it’s going to take another three or four hours,” estimated Valerie.
“How about I get the other units boxed up and ready to ship to Colorado?” suggested Aidan.
“I’ll give you a hand.”
Aidan had been visiting for just over two months, and in that time they got to know each other very well. However, neither had more than a fleeting thought about moving their relationship forward. For Aidan, it was an avoidance based on his eventual return to Harmony and his commitment to the growth and welfare of the community. For Valerie, it was a case of a habitual desire to avoid complications in life that detracted from the single-minded attention she paid to her work. Not only was it a source of extremely good revenue, it was exciting when she strayed into uncharted ground, all the newer technologies. But no man, or woman, is an island.
25 Miles
Ben was alone in his quarters, completing the list of spares for the two mission jumpers. When he was satisfied, he sent it to the mission folder for the rest of the team to review. The hab was ready to leave for Saturn’s rings in forty-eight hours. The last of the construction materials had been loaded and stored. The scientific equipment for the Titan mission was also stored in their temporary space. The morning of their departure, Ben would fly one of the mission jumpers and stow it in the hab and Piper would pilot the second mission jumper.
Virginia and Sam were already at the hab, preparing the quarters the team would be using for the duration of the mission.
Back at the colony, Joy was filling several floaters with food and water. She had several of the construction and engineering crew helping with packing the floaters with the stores. Once filled, the floaters were to be taken to the mission’s whale, along with the countless other stores needed for the mission.
To Ben’s secret delight, his father informed him that he would not be coming along on the water collection mission. Admittedly, it was a little difficult having the colony’s founder as a father because of the reverence the community had for Christopher. Ben was sure his “uncles” had peeked over his team’s shoulder, double checking the mission plan and their preparations.
With Piper’s experience in mission planning and the entire Ops team double checking their Titan mission itinerary, absolutely nothing was left to chan
ce.
“Genesis?”
“Yes, Benjamin. How may I be of assistance?”
“TJ, please.”
“Hey, Ben! How’s it going? Ready for the mission?” TJ replied excitedly.
“Can’t wait to take off. You have a moment? I have a question for you.”
“Anything. What’s up?”
“I know you have a Genesis clone slated to be installed on the hab tomorrow, but I’d like to know if, in your opinion, you think we should have a clone installed in one of our mission jumpers?” asked Benjamin.
“Good question. If you have time to stop by, we can talk it through.”
“Great! Your office, right?”
“Yep.”
Terence “TJ” Jackson was the colony’s resident computer genius. He was the brains behind the development of Genesis, the colony’s artificial intelligence. He also developed the process where Genesis could clone itself for mission support. TJ was one of the original dozen recruits to the colony and mankind’s leading expert on machine intelligence.
When Benjamin arrived in TJ’s lab, he found him working on a portable piece of equipment with his Uncle Peanut. Peanut gave him a huge hug, “My mission commander nephew is all grown up!”
“I hope you’re not trying to lift me off the ground, Uncle Peanut. I don’t want you getting a hernia,” Benjamin laughed. “Hey, TJ. What are you guys working on?” he asked once Peanut let him go.
“This is the guts of the interdimensional probe. It holds a Genesis clone, a handful of astrophysics experiments, some special instruments and the most powerful transmitter we can fit inside the darn thing,” replied Peanut. “This probe can test a few of the cosmological constants in the interdimensional space just outside our universe, record the findings, and return the results to our universe.”
“Damn! How many times have you sent it so far?” asked Benjamin, who knew the probe had been deployed, but wasn’t really up on the interdimensional experiments.
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