Bank Three was now online and the power generated was enough to fully restore environmental services, lighting in most of the critical areas of the ship, ship sensors, communications, and half the workstations in the engine bay as well as the control center.
Vladimir allowed the whole crew a short meal break and then put everyone back to work on preparations for attaching an electrical umbilical from the Japanese powersat to the Kruzenshtern as well as prepping the gravitic drive for operation. Some of the power from Bank Three was being used to speed up diagnostics on the drive. A few problems had already been uncovered but Dubov felt confident that these few could be fixed in time. It was the unknown problems, the ones that had not been found yet, that worried Vladimir the most.
He was gambling everything now, including all of their lives.
A short while later, Opinchuk called him.
The commander of the Savitskaya was clearly depressed. “It’s done, Colonel. We’ve secured the Pawa Maru. We are attaching tow tethers to the satellite now. My engineers tell me that we can use the original powersat thrusters to help accelerate the powersat too, but the amount of acceleration we need in order to achieve rendezvous will likely cause some structural damage in the process. In other words, the powersat might not be 100% functional when it arrives.”
“I understand,” Vladimir replied. “How bad was it?”
Opinchuk closed his eyes and bowed his head. “The Japanese maintenance team on the Pawa Maru fought back. Bravely, valiantly and with great courage, they fought back. Two of my marines are dead and four of their team, though fortunately, not their team leader.”
Vladimir sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I’m sorry for that, Grigory. Truly, I am sorry. I hope the cost won’t be any higher.”
“I wish the same thing,” came the sad reply. “Oh, I have one other piece of bad news for you. Dr. Mironov passed away a few minutes ago.”
Vladimir lowered his head and swallowed hard. “I’ll tell Dr. Dubov.”
With a shrug, Opinchuk muttered, “As soon as we get underway, I’ll let you know.”
And with that, the connection ended.
Six dead already. Plus seventeen from his own ship. The cost was already high but there were hundreds, maybe millions more at stake if the Vanya struck Belem. And then there was the future of Russia. Had he made the right decision?
It wouldn’t take long now and General Kandinsky would probably be calling him on the carpet. The situation was going to get even meaner and uglier then. Vladimir hoped he had the stomach for it.
There were two comm calls, back to back. The first was from Opinchuk to announce that the tether was attached and that the Pawa Maru was under acceleration. It would be tight but the rendezvous would take place as the Kruzenshtern fell past the geosynchronous orbital pathway.
The second call, as Vladimir predicted, was from General Kandinsky.
The general’s image in his PHUD reflected the intense degree of anger the other man was obviously feeling.
“Col. Ushakov, would you kindly tell me WHAT IS GOING ON UP THERE!!!!” the general shouted at the top of his lungs.
Vladimir winced in reaction and then sighed.
“We are saving the Kruzenshtern, sir,” he replied calmly.
Amazingly enough, the general managed to look even angrier. “Parchivec sobaka! You were ORDERED to abandon ship! ORDERED! And now I hear that the Savitskaya attacked an unarmed civilian powersat, murdered some of the maintenance crew, and are stealing the powersat! All under YOUR ORDERS! Is that report CORRECT?!”
Apparently, Vladimir’s assumption that the Japanese engineers would send out a distress call during the Sveta’s attack had been a correct one. It was the only way that Kandinsky could have found out about the Pawa Maru so quickly. The Japanese government must be furious right now.
“Essentially, that is correct, sir,” admitted Vladimir gloomily.
General Kandinsky sat back in his seat in complete mystification, speechless for several seconds.
“Very well,” he said in a calmer tone of voice, but snapping out each word like a bullet. “You are hereby relieved of your command. Who is your second in command? Oh, right, the most senior person left is Senior Lt. Mikhail Istomin right now, if reports are accurate. He will assume command as of this moment.”
“Of course, sir,” Vladimir acknowledged, then mentally ordered the channel closed and opened a new one.
“Lt. Istomin,” Vladimir addressed the senior engineer. “The Pawa Maru and the Savitskaya are on their way and will rendezvous shortly. Please make all preparations.”
“We’ll be ready, sir,” the engineer acknowledged. “I have men suiting up right now. Oh, sir? Someone from Earth is trying to link in to my PHUD but the ship’s comm is denying access. What’s going on?”
“Oh, that?” Vladimir said, with a shrug. “Ignore it. Flight Control is attempting to micromanage the situation, and under the circumstances, we don’t have the time to deal with it. I’ve locked them out for the time being. I take full responsibility, Lieutenant, don’t worry. Just get ready for the Pawa Maru.”
“Yes, sir.”
The rendezvous was expeditiously executed; the Sveta was once again docked to the Vanya at the main airlocks while the powersat was docked at an auxiliary airlock on the opposite side of the experimental ship. It was a snug fit, the curvature of the Vanya’s spherical hull just clearing the nearest of the solar array panels of the powersat. An electrical umbilical was run from the Pawa Maru to the Kruzenshtern through the open airlocks and connected to the ship’s main electrical buss.
Vladimir made his way out through the ship’s auxiliary airlock and into the Pawa Maru. Inside, a Russian marine from the Sveta led him down a cramped corridor to a hatch leading to the powersat bridge.
Inside the bridge was pure pandemonium. A team of engineers and technicians were scattered across the crowded compartment, apparently struggling to activate the powersat systems, realign the solar collectors toward the Sun, and to activate the electrical buss feeding the umbilical cable to the Kruzenshtern. Upon Vladimir’s entry, one of the engineers, sporting lieutenant stars on her collar, her pocket tag reading “Guryev,” snapped closed a clipboard and faced him.
“Col. Ushakov!” she cried, then saluted briskly. “Sir, I am glad you are here!”
“At ease, Lieutenant,” he fired back. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Sir, the Japanese maintenance crew disabled the powersat computer systems before we could break in and stop them,” she reported, nodding in the direction of one small corner of the compartment. Vladimir glanced in that direction and noticed the seated form of a plain-looking Japanese woman still in a spacesuit but minus her helmet, her hands folded in her lap. Two fierce looking, armed Russian marines bracketed her, their eyes glued to the Japanese woman’s every movement.
“Without the passwords,” the Russian engineer continued, “it will take hours to gain manual access to everything.”
Vladimir nodded. “Is she the maintenance team leader?” he asked.
“Yes,” and Guryev consulted a note on her clipboard. “A Sugimoto Manami.”
“I’ll take it from here, Lieutenant,” he said emotionlessly. “Please resume your work.”
Vladimir pulled himself through the air over to the Japanese woman. From all appearances, she was short, barely 140 cm or so tall. In true Oriental fashion, the woman did not react or show emotion of any kind when Vladimir approached her, pushed another padded stool forward, and dragged himself down onto it in front of her.
Whereupon he noticed that the Japanese woman was not wearing a PHUD.
With a wave of his hand at one of the Russian marines, Vladimir said, “Sergeant…ah, Pirogov. Would you be so good as to find this woman’s PHUD, please?”
Sgt. Pirogov snapped a crisp salute and launched himself through the air to a small console near the front of the bridge, returning quickly with a brightly colored headband. V
ladimir took it in hand and gently lowered it on the head of the Japanese woman.
She appeared not to notice, nor did she react in any discernible manner.
“That’s better,” Vladimir commented to himself, then mentally activated a PHUD channel and keyed in a Japanese translation program. “Kon'nichiwa, Manami-san,” he said to her through her PHUD. “It is a truly regrettable event that has led to the deaths of four of your team. I am Col. Vladimir Ushakov, commanding officer of the Russian spacecraft Johann Kruzenshtern. I alone am responsible for the orders given to seize the Pawa Maru. Circumstances beyond my control made it necessary. Please, there are many lives at stake, including your own. We need your help.”
Again, the woman gave no indication that she had heard a word he had said. Indeed, the way she stared straight ahead, it was as if he wasn’t even in the compartment.
Vladimir took a deep breath. He didn’t need this added complication. Fatigue was already weighing him down, robbing him of his ability to think and to deal with the never-ending series of problems and concerns. In fact, if he didn’t get some sleep soon, he felt as if he might collapse.
But not yet. There was still too much to do. There would be time later, after they survived. If they didn’t survive, then he wouldn’t need a rest, would he?
Turning toward Sgt. Pirogov, Vladimir held out his right hand.
“Sergeant, may I have your handgun, please?”
Surprised at the request, the marine hesitated a moment but unsnapped the clip and held the weapon out to the colonel, grip first.
“Sergeant, Corporal,” the colonel said to the two marine non-coms. “I am going to give this weapon to this woman—”
“Sir!” they shouted in unison, glancing at each other.
“You can’t!” cried Pirogov. “It’s loaded!”
Vladimir’s visage was stone hard and just as cold. “You will arm your pulse rifles and keep them pointed at her. If she attempts to shoot you or anyone else on the bridge, you will kill her. But you will allow her to shoot me, if she wants to. And if she wants to empty the entire clip into me, you will allow that too. And that’s an order, understood? It’s an order and I expect you to obey it. Understood?”
The two marines were obviously having a hard time dealing with the apparent insanity of such an order, but they both reluctantly nodded.
Vladimir returned his gaze to Manami, who was now staring back at him uncertainly. With the gun now firmly gripped in his right hand, he aimed at the padded cushion of a nearby stool. When he pulled the trigger, the padding and metal of the stool seat exploded into tiny shreds, a cloud of particles dancing in the air, gently stirred by the ventilation fans.
The shot was not terribly loud but it caught the attention of everyone on the bridge. The sudden silence that fell was deafening in its own way. Vladimir instinctively knew, even without looking, that every eye on the bridge was watching the drama unfold.
“As you can see, it really is loaded,” he quipped mischievously. With a quick heft, he flipped the gun and caught it by the barrel. Then he reached forward to position it in midair, floating squarely in front of her, and left it to spin slowly in the zero-gee.
She jerked away from it but otherwise let it stay where it was. Instead, her eyes snapped to Col. Ushakov, the anger and hatred suddenly and plainly visible.
Vladimir leaned forward. “Go ahead. You heard my order. You are free to take that gun and shoot me. In fact, you can use every needle in the cartridge, if you like, and no one will stop you. You can have your revenge that way, if you want. Kill the man who gave the orders to hijack your powersat and kill your people. Kill the man you hate, the man who has so dishonored you and your people.”
“What do you know of honor?” she suddenly lunged forward, hissing menacingly, her face flushed red with anger. “You use violence and murder to achieve your ends! You hijack a national asset and plunge ten million people into darkness for months! You know nothing of honor! You are not civilized! And I will not help you!”
Vladimir nodded calmly in response. “Then we all die. You, your team, hundreds of Hawaiians without electrical power over the next few months, all of my crew, all of the crew of the Savitskaya, perhaps several million Brazilian citizens when the wreckage of our ships hits their country—and yes, add to that the destruction of the Pawa Maru, a national asset, as you say. All of this is on your shoulders.”
“My shoulders?” she replied with a shrill voice. “Not my shoulders! This is all your responsibility!”
“My hands are tied,” Vladimir replied in an indifferent manner. “We are heading for an atmospheric re-entry and a fiery death. I can’t stop it because I lack the power—the electrical power—to do so. You could stop it. You could restore access to the computer systems, help us gather the electrical power needed for my ship. Then my ship will move the Pawa Maru back to geosynchronous orbit, where you can restore the microwave beam to Hawaii. The power interruption will only be a few hours long. Yes, I was responsible for the attack, but when you cut off access to the computer systems, YOU became responsible for the consequences!”
Manami blinked in surprise, her mouth working open and closed without making a sound. After several seconds, she seemed to regain control of herself.
“You do not intend to keep the Pawa Maru?” she hesitantly asked.
Vladimir snorted and shook his head. “I only need power long enough to put my ship into a safe orbit. Once that is done, I have no need for a powersat. My crew and I will wait in orbit until Russian spacecraft can reach us. The deaths of your people and my two marines were unnecessary and deeply regrettable.”
Sugimoto Manami crunched her eyebrows together, considering his words. “How can I trust you? How do I know you will keep your word, man without honor?”
Vladimir smiled grimly. “You are an engineer, right? Calculate the risks and the possible returns. If you don’t help, hundreds, perhaps millions will die, and this powersat, a multi-billion yen asset, will be destroyed. That is a 100% certainty. But, if you help, you take the chance that I will do as I say—to put the Pawa Maru back where it belongs. Not necessarily an iron-clad guarantee of success but a lot better than zero. It sure beats the alternative by a very wide margin, wouldn’t you say?”
Sighing, Manami very reluctantly nodded in acceptance. “Your logic is…inescapable. You win. I will help restore power. But I will do nothing more than that!”
Vladimir reached out and took the handgun, tossing it back into the willing hands of Sgt. Pirogov. “Please, we have very little time. Can you get started immediately? Oh, and Sgt. Pirogov? Please bring back the other members of her team, give them their PHUDs and anything else they say they need, understand? Food, water, tools, supplies…anything, all right?”
With a deep bow at the Oriental engineer, Vladimir straightened, turned and pushed off for the exit hatch.
FIVE
Upon his return to the Kruzenshtern, Vladimir immediately made his way to the engine bay. As he floated into the cavernous space, he was confronted with the sight of a dozen engineers and technicians working at open panels to the ship’s main drive. Almost immediately, Lt. Istomin materialized as if by magic at his elbow. The colonel this time was not as startled by the feat, growing accustomed to the younger man’s ability to appear and disappear without warning.
“Status report, please?” he asked with a strained smile as he ran a jerky hand through his hair. “What’s going on?”
Istomin was obviously uncomfortable answering the question. “With the Sveta docked to us, we took the opportunity and ran a second umbilical line, from that ship this time, while we were waiting on power from the powersat,” the engineer announced.
“Good thinking,” Vladimir conceded but suspect that wasn’t the end of the matter. “And used it for what?”
“To start the second level of main drive diagnostics. Sir, there is some damage to the main drive after all. Apparently a power spike back-fed down the lines to the gen-ject
ors. There are several damaged components. It’s going to take a little more time to bring them back on-line than we originally estimated.”
Vladimir nodded in grim understanding. “Remind the crew, their lives are on the line. Time is of the essence. We must hurry.”
Istomin nodded wretchedly in return. “We know, Colonel. We know.”
In the wardroom, Vladimir took time for a quick bulb of hot tea and a bite to eat, gulping down the hot liquid, using it to wash down a sweet roll.
As he finished, he activated his PHUD, opening a link to Opinchuk. Vladimir could see from the other man’s surroundings that the colonel was somewhere on the powersat. There was a great deal of commotion around him. Apparently, Opinchuk was in the thick of things as his crew attempted to resurrect solar collection operations.
“There you are!” snapped the younger man hurriedly. “I just missed you here. Thanks for getting the Japanese off their butts. With their help, we will have power to you shortly. In the meantime, I hear there has been some damage to your drive after all.”
Vladimir nodded. “We’re working on it. But right now, you and I need to send a message to Flight Control.”
Opinchuk blinked and appeared troubled. “Why? Our comm link is locked down right now, per your orders. Why send them any messages now?”
“It’s a good question,” Vladimir said, with a wry grin. “Right now, we need them to think everything is proceeding to a plan up here, that we will shortly have the drive on-line and that the situation will shortly be under control.”
“Is that so?” asked Opinchuk. “Are you saying we should lie to make them feel good? Why should we do that?”
Vladimir wiped his lips with a small paper napkin, then answered. “My original plan called for us to have the drive up and going long before we were within range of that Chinese battlecruiser in low Earth orbit. Now it looks like we might have to deal with it after all. The last thing we need is for the Russian government to ask other countries to have their ships, such as the European Union’s Carl von Clausewitz, to join in the missile barrage. The Chinese missiles are bad enough…”
Heroes: A Raconteur House Anthology Page 25