Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far)

by Calouette, Casey

  Cheers erupted as they had finally struck a blow that would hurt, if not cripple, the Hun marauder. The sparks from the impact cascaded and were slung out from the grav field as if a fountain of burnt iron gushed out. The embers glowed as they passed in the wake of the marauder. Heat dissipated tediously in a vacuum.

  William watched as the reload indicator of the railguns progressed. His feet tapped back and forth. It seemed sluggishly slow. The room was completely silent, only the hum of the grav drive bled into the room. “How much longer?”

  “Two minutes,” Xan called.

  Two minutes. It’d be close. The railguns might load in time. If it did he could quite possibly slam another round home. Did they know? They had to know.

  The railgun had to bleed heat that. Fire too fast and the projectile would weld itself into the barrel. The reload indicator crawled upwards. Orange, then yellow, then just turning to green.

  “In 3!” Xan said as he hunched forward in the chair.

  “No! We’ll get her,” William cried out. He slammed down his hand onto the console and let loose a round. The last thing he saw was the nose of the marauder panning to the side.

  The consoles winked. A low hum passed through the floor. The corvette had slipped through the Haydn field and was now 2 AU’s further.

  William stared at the empty screen and felt the palm of his hand burning. Did he hit it? Was the round already out? He licked his lips and looked at the others. Everyone was smiling in relief. He felt relieved, but also cheated, he could've landed a killing blow… or had one landed on him.

  “Is that it?” Eduardo asked.

  The adrenaline ebbed. William released all of his muscles and suddenly felt an empty place inside of him. That thrill, that feeling, the dread mixed with the excitement was seductive. Now he was just tired. His left hand itched furiously, all he could do was grit his teeth.

  “We’ll know shortly if they’re going to follow,” William said. He ran his hands over his eyes and stretched back. A number caught his eye. “Xan, can you verify position?”

  “We, uh, we went further than she would have,” Xan said as he leaned towards the display.

  “Huh. I’m going down to see the Haydn,” Tero replied quietly and walked out of the room.

  “I’m not sure I…” Eduardo trailed off.

  “The Haydn drive skips over the top of gravity waves. It’s like a big sine wave. You get far enough away from a gravity well and skip across the trough. You drop out near the peak of the next gravity wave and power through to the falling edge and blink again.”

  Eduardo nodded slowly.

  “We measure the drive by how efficient it is at reaching the peak. The greater the efficiency the less time you spend burning between peaks. Right now the distance is small as the waves are spaced close together, but in between the stars it can take weeks.”

  “Sounds like a filter in an electronic circuit,” Eduardo said.

  “You’ll have to ask Tero about it. All I know is we are about 8% more efficient than we should have been.”

  William relaxed a bit more and kept watch on the screen. He was hungry and wanted nothing more than to eat and drink a proper meal. The slight smells of something cooking wafted through the ventilation system.

  Tero returned with a smile on his face. “The Haydn is sealed, looks unusual, Gracelle maybe?” He shrugged and sat back down.

  Eduardo engaged him in conversation about the details of the Haydn.

  “If you don’t mind Mr. Grace, I’m going to rest, it can be overwhelming,” Von Hess said.

  “Absolutely, you did good work,” William said. He’d been surprised at the versatility of the strider pilot.

  The bridge grew silent as everyone kept an eye on the display. The marauder had turned, ever so slightly and would need time to get back on the right tack or it might turn around. William saw no reason to speak to the rest of the crew yet, not until he knew if the Hun marauder was in pursuit.

  He ran through the diagnostics. They were banged up, but nothing critical yet. Not that they could do much anyways.

  Then it appeared. William crouched forward and smiled an animal smile. The Hun marauder was back, way back, back where the corvette should have come in. The distance was too far to get a good visual on the prow. It held in position for a few moments before the velocity began to rise. William kept his eye on the the acceleration.

  The marauder accelerated again up to 4G’s.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Beyond

  William sat on the edge of a rimmed white table. Eyes rose up from the benches and seats as everyone waited for him to speak. An empty bowl sat by his side with a few yellow noodles starched to the rim. Bowls were scattered everywhere as the survivors indulged in whatever they wanted. The world of privation had ended.

  “They hit us hard, the only thing that kept us alive was one of the orbital batteries slamming them, it knocked out half of their missile batteries.” William shifted and looked into the tired eyes of those around him. Did they really trust him to get them out of this? The thought still surprised him. “We’ve got an advantage, we jump further. But they are faster, much faster, in the peaks. We’re going to make the next jump before they do, but the jump after that is a lot longer and they might catch us before we can jump again.”

  “So, uh, Mr. Grace,” Avi said as he stood. “What can we do?”

  William looked around at the faces around him. They were gaunt, wounded, tired, but still eager. He scanned each man for a moment. They were dirty, black earlobes, gray cheeks, cut, burned and bruised. If he felt this lousy he was sure everyone else did. The last thing he would want to do is sit and wait, so why would they?

  “Crack open every single box, container, and locker. Find something we can use, anything, I’m open to ideas,” William said.

  They nodded and the mood changed from a complacency of a passenger to the professionalism of a crew with a mission.

  “But first eat, shower, get into clean clothes, and dress your wounds. I expect you’ll find a fully functioning medical suite, use it.” William stood. “Tero, you have the bridge.”

  “Squad. Attention!” Sergeant Crow bellowed out.

  All of the troops snapped up from the seats and stood at attention. They were dirty and disheveled but not anywhere near beat.

  William returned the best salute he could manage and walked out.

  Crow followed behind William through the narrow corridor. “Mr. Grace, that applies to you too yes?”

  William nodded leaned against a bulkhead. “Does it show?”

  “You’ll do us no good sleep deprived, bleeding, and hungry.” Crow pointed to the stump, the end was slowly spreading red. “Let’s find the medical suite.”

  The pair wandered through a few corridors. William was impressed with the organization of every room he entered. Whoever ran the ship knew exactly how to keep it up. It was designed for a much larger compliment than was onboard. Reminders of the previous crew were all around, trinkets, shells, a coconut, a stiff yellow palm frond.

  They found the medical suite and Crow changed the dressing. William got his first look at where his hand once was. The skin was folded back into a ragged seam like the top of a burlap bag. The color seemed unnatural and the stitches looked like something out of a cobbler shop. None of it seemed to bother Crow who bound it firmly but gently and slapped a patch onto his shoulder.

  “You’ve done this before?” William asked. The nanites numbed everything and the itching stopped.

  Crow nodded and began to change a dressing on Kerry. “Yes, unfortunately. Religious cranks once. Then a docking station from Sa’Ami on Tunis.” His hands weaved a new bandage around Kerry’s shoulder. “The cranks were a pain, the Sa’Ami were few in number but they made up for it in tenacity and augmentation.” He slapped Kerry on the good shoulder. “Now git.”

  A thumb worn photo of a woman standing on a green plain was stuck next to a cabinet. Crow leaned forward to give it a
n appraising look. “I saw quite a few amputations after that fight. The Sa’Ami moved so fast.” He let the words drift away as he nodded at the photo. “Good looking girl,” he said with a nod.

  William felt the gentle sedation begin to wrap around him like a silky blanket. Chills ran down his back and his muscles relaxed. “Woo. I’m going to need to lay down.”

  “Avi! Help Mr. Grace to his quarters,” Crow called.

  The Marine Private appeared from around the corner. “Here we go Mr. Grace!” Avi called out as he helped William into the narrow corridor.

  William turned to see Crow lean forward again and peer at the photo. His face looked lost in times past.

  The two ships raced each other. The corvette speckled like a stream worn salmon followed by the brutish marauder with a flattened nose. There was no violence between the two at such distances. At this range rail projectiles could be dodged and missiles could be intercepted by the mass drivers.

  The marauder worked closer knowing that the advantage was his.

  Through the night William had crawled off of the bed and curled up into a ball. He never awoke, it was what his body was used to. The sleep brought no dreams, and for that he was thankful. They blinked while he slept.

  William walked out of the quarters and into the hallway.

  “Mr. Grace,” Avi saluted. He was now cleaned, though the grit seemed to hang in the creases around his eyes. “Mr. Villeneuve asked to see you in the cargo hold once you had eaten.”

  “Thank you Avi. Have you eaten?”

  Avi nodded. “I did, but I’ll gladly eat again. I’m not sure I’ll ever turn down a meal for the rest of my life Sir,” he responded with a smile.

  William felt much the same way. Even once he had eaten, he had the urge to pirate away a bit of food just in case he couldn’t get to it later. It took a conscious mental effort to not stuff himself.

  His mind stuck on the marauder barreling towards them. He couldn’t outrun it. He couldn’t beat it in a fight.

  The bowl sat next to him on the table. His stub gently braced against it. He slurped down a mouthful of noodles and ran across all the simulations he’d ever been in. Nothing seemed to help. Though he was quite satisfied with the noodles.

  He thought about that first day, that damned cold first day. He could have rolled over and let the cold slip into him. What made him, hell, what made them all carry on? Survival was simple enough, but he felt that it was something more. At any moment they would die. Is that where the courage came from? He didn’t know.

  His father flashed through his mind. Is this how he felt? You win the day, fight to the end, and are dashed on the rocks of fate? The sound of the horses stampeding echoed through his mind. He paused, there were no horses on Farshore.

  Crates and containers were opened, wedged, pried, and popped. A rough chalk marker on each door showed either a one, a zero, or a question mark. There were many zeros, a few question marks, and just a handful of ones.

  Sebastien was surrounded by a sea of metallic spheres the size of a mans head. Each was stamped with the blue and white logo of the Quebecois mineral company DythCo. Contained within was a slug of precious rhenium.

  William wasn’t sure if the spheres were laid out on purpose or if they had rolled out of a burst container. “Morning Sebastien.”

  Sebastien raised a hand as he silently mouthed numbers. “Do you have any use for 47 spheres of Rhenium?”

  “Sell them and retire on the beach?”

  Sebastien nodded. “That thought crossed my mind too.” He walked to a container with a question mark. “This one has combat armor, enhanced suits. These guys were about to leave.”

  “I’m not surprised.” William walked over and peeked his head into the crate. “Looks like fun.”

  “They’re overrated,” Sebastien said.

  “Anything else exciting?”

  Sebastien shook his head. “No.”

  A single sphere clanked against its partner and began a slow roll down the length of the cargohold. Like a cannonball of old it slid to one side and then the next before crashing into a container. An enormous divot buckled the side.

  William turned and stood with Sebastien at his side. The pair watched in silence as the sphere rebounded and came to rest against a pile of strapping.

  O’Toole stepped out from behind a container. “Ouch! Imagine if that hit your toe!”

  William gave one of the spheres a gentle nudge. It was solid like it was bolted to the floor.

  “What if you ran into one of these accelerating at 4g?” Sebastien asked.

  “Time to put your beach vacation on hold Sebastien.”

  The ship suddenly descended into a bad caricature of a bowling alley. Soldiers and Marines waddled through the length of the ship with the massively heavy rhenium containers. Sebastien was able to carry a pair, and could have handled more if grip wasn’t an issue.

  Men ducked and dodged as they passed each other through the tight quarters. The pile grew until it became difficult to add more without them collapsing under the weight of the pile. Netting and boxes were wedged on the edges to keep them in place.

  “Will the airlock open with all that weight?” Vito asked.

  William peered at the pile. He felt guilty not being able to help, but carrying a sphere was rather difficult without two hands.

  “It’ll open. It might not close, but it will open,” Tero said.

  The service airlock on the rear of the corvette was smaller than the cargo airlocks. When they opened the door, if it opened, the spheres would pass out and remain on the same vector. With any luck the dense metal would impact on the marauder. He didn’t know if it would be enough energy to break the repulsors, but they had to do something.

  The Hun marauder was rapidly closing. At 4Gs of acceleration they were traveling nearly 1% of the speed of light. If it could be slowed even a little they could make the next blink and then the efficiency would gain them even more distance.

  Eduardo was the last man to thunk one of the spheres into a pile. His arms were knotted and strained as he gently squatted down and deposited the sphere. His arms almost seemed to glow with tattoos of fire and stone. His face was set and intense as he saluted and walked off.

  The almost comical logo made it look like a pile of monogrammed volleyballs. A small crowd was crouched and tucked into the hallway eager to watch the payload get delivered.

  “Mr. Tero, if you please,” William said as he beckoned to the spheres.

  Tero smiled and nodded. “As a kid we’d do something similar.” He tapped the console and the inner door closed and sealed with a pop. “We’d suit up and tuck inside an airlock. Hit the override and pop the outer door.” The display showed the vacuum level rising as it was pumped in with a hum. “And then whoosh! You’d shoot out! In Mars gravity you could really get some distance.” With a final tap he activated the override and the outer door began to open.

  All eyes watched as the mass strained for a split second. An audible unconscious “Ooooh” began as first one, then another, then all of the spheres were sucked out. It sounded like stamping hooves as the spheres smacked against the airlock door. Frost grew on the inner window as the moisture condensed.

  “Whoops. I think we broke it,” Tero said as he tried to close the door.

  Chuckles echoed from the crowd.

  The spheres were now waiting in space, still moving forward, but at a much slower speed than the marauder. Far behind, the marauder continued charging forward at full acceleration.

  “Noodles Mr. Grace?” Avi asked as he set down a plastic bowl.

  William nodded and slid the bowl closer. The sweet tangy aroma tickled his nostrils. He’d been hungry, even though his stomach was full. Just feeling the texture of the noodles was luxurious. The first bite was his new simple pleasure.

  “So uh, how much longer Mr. Grace?”

  “Hmm?” William swallowed the noodles. “Till we blink?”

  “Till they run into the ca
nnonballs Sir.” His voice cracked slightly as he replied with a wistful smile.

  William liked how they referred to them as cannonballs, the most precious cannonballs ever lobbed. “Another hour or so, and you know they probably won’t even hit them.”

  Avi nodded and looked up at the screen behind him. “Can we see anything?”

  William shook his head. “If they hit we’ll get a thermal signature, too far yet for visual.”

  “So we just wait?”

  “We just wait.”

  Avi sat back and grinned. “This is driving me crazy, how can you naval types do it knowing that you can’t do anything for days or weeks! It’s crazy.” He quickly added, “No offense sir.”

  “You can’t argue with physics Avi, so you just relax and save the adrenaline for later.”

  The young Marine looked down to the floor. Behind him Leduc was poking at the display console. The screen flickered and showed movies that were popular 20 years before. Soldiers and Marines were scattered about the room eating or sleeping. Those awake seemed fidgety and tense. This was not the type of battle they were used to.

  William sat in the cool air of the bridge and watched the visual display. The marauder was so far away that it was barely a wink of light, just another star. The marauder maintained the 4G acceleration. He went to rub his hands together and caught himself. The itching was coming back.

  “Mr. Tero, how does it look?”

  “Hmph. I can get a thermal off of it, but the resolution is pretty grainy.”

  “Toss it up, better than staring at a number.”

  The thermal image was overlaid onto the main display. A gray shape made out of choppy pixels hung in the center as if it wasn’t moving. A slight orange tint blurred the front edge.

  “See the nose? The nanites are repairing it,” Tero said.

  They were joined by Vito and then Crow. The room was silent except for the occasional click from the ventilation system.