64
Station 92–AE
Jessamyn looked up from the comm panel, responding to Zussman’s gentle ahem. Thirteen minutes had passed since she’d sent her message to MCC.
“Your brother has, indeed, found a back door into the program which should allow both the closure of the firing bays and the initialization of test blasts sufficient to destroy the satellites. This piece of code—” here Zussman touched one of the lines on Ethan’s screen, “Is designed to override safety protocols.”
“Okay,” said Jessamyn. “Okay.” Her heart began to race.
“Miss Jessamyn, I feel I must point out that this opportunity will not present itself again if we are, ah, cut off prior to finishing the orders to the satellites.” Zussman paused. “This sort of move, once taken, would be easy for our opponents on Earth to prevent in the future. They are not expecting it now, but if we should get part way through the process, they will know to prevent such a move in the future.”
“Okay,” said Jess, nodding. “So maybe we shouldn’t start anything. We could comm Kazuko about the proper steps to take…”
“I have done so already, miss.”
“Right. So we just have to wait for an answer from MCC…” Jessamyn broke off.
“Or ’til my Aunt’s Red Squadron Forces arrive,” said Pavel. “Jess, there’s an even chance you’re going to have to make this decision on your own.”
Jessamyn’s fists slammed onto the console before her. “I can’t! Every time I have done things on my own initiative or disobeyed orders, something has gone horribly wrong. There are consequences for ignoring the chain of command. There are reasons other people are responsible for big decisions like this. I’m not—” she broke off, choking back tears. “I’m not—” She couldn’t speak.
“It’s okay, Jess,” said Pavel.
“No, it’s not okay. I’m not smart enough or experienced enough or qualified enough to make a decision like this on my own.” She swiped angrily at the tears hovering on her lower lids and lashes. “Do you know how it feels to have to live every day with the knowledge that what you did put an entire planet in mortal peril? That your actions may spell death to the people you love and the place you call home?”
“It’s because you love them that you act!” said Pavel. “Even if it’s hard or it scares you or you don’t feel like you can do it. I know it’s an impossible burden to bear. But you’ve got to shoulder it, for the sake of those you love.”
They were so nearly her father’s words, and they cut through the layers of Raider and rebel, pilot and fugitive, piercing her heart.
Pavel kneeled until his face was level with hers. “Jessamyn Jaarda, you are the bravest and most capable person I have ever met. You say you see mistakes and consequences. But I see rescues and sacrifice and the salvation of a planet. Jess, your mistakes saved Mars Colonial before. If you believe in your heart that the right thing to do now is to destroy those satellites, then you do it. You do it and you don’t look back.”
Jess closed her eyes, squeezing out a few last tears. What if I’m wrong?
She imagined the space behind her navel, the space above her forehead, the space where her heart lodged. What should I do? She knew what she had to do. She was simply afraid. True courage is acting even when you’re afraid.
She opened her eyes.
“We destroy them,” she said. Her voice was steady. “We blow up every last one of those evil satellites.”
“I should be honored to assist you in the task,” said Zussman.
“Good,” said Jess. “Code has never been my strong suit, and I could use someone looking over my shoulder. Pavel, you, too. Make sure I do exactly what Ethan wrote here.” She pointed to her brother’s scrawl.
Behind her, Ethan stopped humming. But Jessamyn didn’t even notice. Her hands flew across the panel at her brother’s work station.
The instructions were simple. The program they were attempting to alter was a maintenance subroutine, and even Jess could see some of the logic behind what she was doing. But when it came time to hit “send” so that the instructions would make their way to an orbit above Mars, Jessamyn’s fingers hesitated, hovering over the screen.
She looked up to Pavel.
He nodded.
She looked over to Zussman.
He nodded as well.
She gave one final check to her work and then brought her index finger down upon the final command.
Send.
65
Station 92–AE
“Okay,” said Jessamyn.
Things were far from okay.
“It’s done.”
She felt nauseous.
She had just, without permission or orders, destroyed the very satellites that she and her brother had been ordered to commandeer. Her arms began to shake, and then her legs shook, too. She had to lock her teeth together to stop them chattering.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Pavel.
Jess ran her hands back and forth over her knees, trying to dissipate some of the adrenaline flooding her system. “What if it doesn’t work…What if I showed our hand to the Terran hackers and what if they’re so angry they start shooting lasers everywhere and what if—”
“Miss Jessamyn,” interrupted Zussman, “If I might suggest you leave these questions for another time?” Zussman was once more engaged in suiting Ethan for an escape.
“I shouldn’t go,” she said. “I should wait to see the results.”
“Sorry, Jess, I’m overruling you on this one,” said Pavel. “The orders won’t even reach the satellites for another seven minutes. Then you’ve got another thirteen—”
“Incoming,” said Zussman, interrupting Pavel. “A single ship. They will be in firing range within minutes.”
“They’re not coming to parley, Jess. Let’s go!” shouted Pavel.
But Jess remained at her position before the comm console, still running her hands over her knees. “If I made the wrong decision, Pavel, how will I live with it?”
Pavel took her hands in his. “You listen to me, Jess. You asked me about shooting the Red Hope. That same night, when I saw that spy fly off with you, I thought I couldn’t live through it. But I did.
“And today, you are alive and I’m alive and I will not let you give up like this because somewhere inside of you there is a fighter who is maybe a little shell–shocked at the moment, but I know you’ll find her again.” Pavel paused to grab her suit and pass it to her. “At least, I sure hope she’s coming back, because we’re going to need a capable pilot in less than four minutes, give or take.”
Jessamyn looked into Pavel’s dark eyes and saw the boy she’d crossed a hundred million kilometers to see again. She could do this. She would not ruin Pavel’s life out of a selfish desire to go bury her head in the sand right now. Oblivion was a coward’s way out, Harpreet always said.
You’re no coward, she told herself. She stood and began suiting up.
“Let’s go,” she said.
The four pushed and glided down the long tube leading to the docking port where the Star Shark waited. And Jessamyn felt, deep in her belly, the assurance that she was doing the right thing.
There was a time for flying, and this was it.
66
Budapest, Earth
Benjamin Wu’s uncle Vladim had insisted Benjamin’s new job would be the gateway to the kinds of promotion Benjamin had so far failed to attain on his own. Benjamin liked hacking. He even liked the antiquated language in which the code governing the Martian Containment Program satellites was programmed. He did not like his new boss, however.
It had sounded too good to be true—reporting directly to the Terran Chancellor. It had turned out to be rather awful. Other employers, when faced with adjustments to loops of code they didn’t understand, generally shrugged and said, Let me know when you’re done. Benjamin couldn’t imagine Lucca Brezhnaya had ever said anything like that in her life. Certainly she’d never said it to the group
of seven hackers working around the clock to bring the satellites back under their control.
Despite the near–constant fear imposed by his employer, Benjamin had to admit the work was satisfying. He was now certain the setbacks his team had suffered were due to another hacker accessing the system. The patterns were clear: move, counter–move. His opponent was good. Very good. But Wu had his opponent backed into a corner now, with nowhere to go. It was intensely satisfying.
Benjamin’s team had successfully completed the demonstration the Chancellor had ordered. Benjamin had seen the deposits of re–body credits appear in his account, a welcome reward. Like his uncle had promised, Benjamin Wu was going places, at last.
Today had been an exhilarating day, with the actual launch of Operation Burnout, but he was glad it was almost time to go home. He’d earned a good day’s sleep.
“Sir,” called one of Wu’s assistants. “Sir, I think you should see this.”
Benjamin rose and crossed to the opposite side of the room where morning light crept in through narrow windows. Approaching his assistant’s console, Benjamin frowned. “Is that right?” He ran his fingers along the screen. “That can’t be right.” But in the pit of his stomach, he felt a sudden contraction. Something was off. Something was wrong.
“The satellites have closed all ports using what appears to be a series of instructions aimed at maintenance procedures,” said Benjamin’s assistant.
Benjamin felt another wrenching sensation in his belly. This was not good.
“Transfer all the maintenance subroutines to my screen,” he ordered his assistant. “Now!” A faint layer of perspiration dampened his brow.
How could he have missed this? Now that it was too late to make a counter–move, he saw his opponent’s strategy laid bare. His faced drained of all color and his hands felt icy cold.
“Run and hide,” he said to his assistant. “Tell Miri, too. Run and hide and cut out your scan chip as soon as you can.”
“Sir?”
“If you value your life, you will leave. Now.”
Benjamin heard his assistant speaking softly to Miri, heard the two of them exit the office. There was nowhere Benjamin could run to, no way for him to hide. Vladim Wu was his uncle.
Benjamin watched as his opponent’s brilliant move rendered him helpless. There was no way to counter this action. Benjamin knew that even if he sent a counter order, by the time the code arrived at the satellites, they would be gone. In fact, they were probably destroyed already.
“Checkmate,” he murmured.
67
Station 92–AE
Jess, Pavel, and Zussman suited up, skipping a few checks in their hurry. Through the first airlock. Through the second. Into the ship’s hatch. Awkward, a final push, and Jess shot to the pilot’s seat.
Zussman had the ship ready to go.
“All pre–flights completed, Miss Jessamyn,” he said softly as he removed himself to the rear of the craft.
“Let’s do this!” Jess shouted. Her gloved fingers were cumbersome, but she knew what to do. The craft uncoupled from the station.
Easing between two extensions of the space station, she maneuvered with only her rear and port thrusters, firing infinitesimally small bursts.
Slowly, slowly. And then she laughed at herself. What was she trying to save the station for? A return visit? She was about to punch the boosters when she saw the oncoming missile on her screen. Pausing for a moment, she decided on a different strategy.
“Shizer!” shouted Pavel. “What are you waiting for?”
“They’re firing,” stated Zussman. “We have an incoming missile.”
“I see it,” replied Jess, holding her position. Remember your starboard thrust engine is cooked, she told herself.
“If I might offer a suggestion,” said Zussman, “Perhaps now would be an excellent time to depart.”
“Not yet,” said Jessamyn.
“What do you mean, ‘Not yet’?” shouted Pavel.
Jessamyn’s fingers hovered over the controls. “Just three…more…seconds.” She counted them down. Now!
A brief pause and the ship jumped into a full forward thrust, blackening the docking bay doors behind them. In a rear view screen, Jess saw the docking clamps glowing red.
Using the comm console as a tactical station, Zussman coolly announced, “Missile impact, momentarily.”
There was a moment where she saw the missile’s approach, and then Station 92–AE exploded into a brief ball of flame. Bits of metal flew off in all directions. A moment later, clanking sounds announced the ship had been struck.
“We’re hit!” shouted Pavel.
“Just a little debris from the station,” said Jess. “We’ll be okay.” She hoped she was telling the truth.
Pavel brought up one of the rear cameras on screen. “I don’t know, Jess. Those are some substantial dings back there.”
“We have, however, avoided being struck by the missile,” said Zussman. “Perhaps we need not call it so close in the future.”
Jessamyn laughed. “Zuss, is that criticism?”
“Not at all, miss. Merely a suggestion.”
“With a heat seeker like that, Zuss, we would not be having this conversation if I’d left any sooner,” Jess said, soberly.
“I see, miss. I stand corrected.”
“Pavel, where’s the attack ship?”
Pavel didn’t answer, so Zussman replied instead. “It would appear to have gone past us and has not yet reversed its trajectory.”
“Good,” said Jess. “We need to hide. Fast. We are no match for that thing. Pavel, what are you doing out of your seat? Get back in your harness, now!”
“I think we’ve got a small leak. I want to get a temporary seal on it.”
“We are not out of this yet, Pavel. Get in your seat!”
Pavel, ignoring her, grabbed a seal kit.
Jessamyn swore. “Is he always this stubborn?” she demanded of Zussman.
“I’ve seen him behaving worse, miss,” replied Zussman. “Master Pavel, it is likely an attack ship poses the greater threat at the moment.”
“We need a place to hide!” cried Jessamyn. “Come on, Pavel. I need you up here!”
“Space junk!” cried Pavel from behind her.
Jess turned to Zuss. “Is that a form of swearing on Earth?”
“No!” said Pavel. “Look for space junk! There are some trash fields at a slightly lower orbit holding for harvesting.”
Jessamyn nodded. “I’m looking now.”
“Beg pardon, miss, but the attack ship has come about. Fifty kilometers and closing extremely—”
“Shizer!” shouted Jess. “Get up here and find me some space junk now, Pavel!”
She banked hard, heading toward the bright blue planet. Pavel tumbled and hit the wall.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“I told you to get in your chair,” muttered Jess. “Serves you right.”
Pavel stumbled back to his seat and buckled in. “If there’s a leak, it’s real slow.”
“Space junk!” demanded Jess. “Now!”
“If I might suggest this orbital database?” said Zussman.
“Right, right,” said Pavel, skimming the screen before him. “Here’s one. It’s in a lower orbit, but it’s going to sweep past us in a minute or so.”
“Transfer that orbit to my screen now,” snapped Jess.
“Done,” replied Pavel.
Jess scrutinized the screen and entered a steep turn. “Hang on,” she called. “Gonna be some g’s.”
To one side, Zussman grunted. Warnings flashed on Jess’s screen, followed by an auditory alarm.
“We’ve got structural problems in the back of the craft, Jess,”
“Come on, now,” Jess murmured to the ship. “You can do it.”
A creaking sound emanated from the ship’s port side.
“It’s okay,” Jess whispered. “You’ve got this!”
“The field…is
merely…” Zussman was having difficulty speaking.
“I see it,” Jess said, cutting him off.
“It’s going by too fast,” said Pavel.
“We can do this,” grunted Jess, breathing against the increased g’s. “By Ares, we will do this!”
She sent the ship into a final turn, aligning herself with the junk field only a few thousand meters below.
Pavel groaned beside her. “I’m…going to…black out.”
“It’s coming fast,” panted Jess. Would the orbiting junk field crash into them from behind? Feeling unconsciousness coming upon her, Jess programmed a short engine burn sequence.
Beside her, Pavel’s head lolled to one side.
Jessamyn’s peripheral vision disappeared in a field of black spots and then she lost consciousness as well.
She awoke to the beeping of multiple alarms. As her eyes peeled open, she saw flashing lights. It’s okay, she told herself, the lights were on the screens, not a phantom of her vision. The g–forces were gone and the ship coasted directly ahead of the large clustering of orbiting debris.
“Most invigorating, miss,” said Zussman as he came to.
“Did we make it?” asked Pavel. “You did it!” he said, looking at the screens in front of him. “How did you manage it? I blacked out!”
“I set the thrusters to burn for twenty seconds and then turn off. There’s our junk field.”
“Looks like it’s a half kilometer behind us,” said Pavel. “We’re actually pulling away, I think.”
“Got it,” said Jessamyn. “I overdid just a bit. We can close that gap, no problem.” She rotated the ship and accelerated gently toward the space junk. “Any sign of the attack ship?”
“Sensors are picking up something forty kilometers behind us, and gaining. I surmise that would be our opponent,” said Zussman.
“You think they’ll find us?” asked Jess.
“If we can see them, then they saw our path,” replied Pavel.
Mars Burning (The Saving Mars Series-) Page 21