“Whoops,” Harper said, switching back to the long-range channel. “Harper here.”
“The shuttle is curving around to meet you, but it's burning a hell of a lot of fuel to do it. Can you explain what I'm seeing on my sensors?”
“It's a long story, Captain,” she replied, looking at Zheng. “And one that I barely understand myself. Did you get the data stream?”
“All stored, and Jack's going through it as we speak, if the swearing is anything to go by. I'm picking up three people on that chariot.”
Cooper broke in, and said, “Captain, we need to get all of our people off the station, right now, and back to Alamo. Top priority. Details to follow when we arrive, but we're bringing a guest on board.”
“I'll give the order. Now can I have some answers?”
Harper shook her head, and said, “Skipper, right now I'm not sure we even know the questions.”
Chapter 11
Orlova stepped into her office, the viewscreen on the wall flashing to alert her that an incoming transmission was waiting for her attention. Ignoring it for a moment, she sat down behind her desk, rubbing her forehead, and looked out at the starfield. A status update raced across her console, the last shuttle returning with the crewmen from the station, as well as the host of complaints from local business leaders relating to damages. Taking a deep drink of water, she took a deep breath, and activated the screen.
“Colonel Clarke,” she said, “I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“Not at all,” he replied, a scowl on his face. “Certainly it would appear that you've been very busy in the last few hours. Do you want me to list the crimes committed by your people, or have you already read the report?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I'm not a very diplomatic person, Colonel, so I suggest we cut through all of this. I have no intention of turning over any of my people to the tender mercies of the United Nations, nor will I delete any data that we have obtained. You know that much already. No Triplanetary commander would.” She glanced down at the sensor display, showing Kolchak still hovering in orbit, and said, “If you are planning to launch an attack, I believe your optimum window is in five minutes.”
Astoundingly, Clarke threw back his head and started to laugh, “Damn it, Captain, remind me never to play poker with you. I doubt I would survive the experience. For the record, I'll ask whether you were responsible for the death of my crewmen.”
“I can assure you that I wasn’t,” she replied. “Though I know that you have no reason to trust me, I will at least urge that you maintain full internal alert status, and that you watch your sensor inputs closely.” Leaning forward, she said, “This wasn’t all our work, Colonel, and I am truly sorry for the death of your people.”
Nodding, Clarke replied, “I’ll take your words under advisement, Captain. No more than that. You’ll understand that trust is a very precious commodity out here, and one that I do not spend lightly.” He paused, then added, “The planet below is technically neutral territory, and under the terms of the Treaty of Vesta, we cannot claim it all. Nevertheless, I will remind you that we are entitled to claim surface installations and the territory surrounding them, and will state again, for the record, that any landing of surface forces within ten miles of our base would constitute an act of war.” He frowned, continuing, “I’m going to let this one go, Captain. Because I truly don’t wish to see our two governments fighting it out again. But you’ve already pushed me to the limit. Don’t push me any further. Kolchak out.”
Orlova closed the channel, sighed, then tapped a control to unlock her office doors, Salazar, Quinn and Nelyubov walking inside, glancing at each other as though waiting for the axe to fall. She gestured for them to take seats, then looked at Salazar, her eyes as laser beams, boring into the young officer.
“That could have gone a lot better, Pavel,” she said.
“No argument from me, ma’am,” he replied. “No argument at all.” Glancing at Nelyubov, he added, “We had someone looking out for us, and I don’t mean our friend from the Republic. Someone’s trying to give us a shot at getting down to the surface, and I think I can guess who.”
“The not-men?” Quinn asked. “Why would they want us to find our way down to one of their secret installations? There’s something here we’re missing.” He paused, then continued, “What about Zheng He? Does he check out?”
“Human to the nth degree,” Nelyubov said. “Though he isn’t listed in any of our records. Harper’s going through her files right now, but she isn’t hopeful. Of course, that doesn’t mean a damn thing. The Lunar Republic isn’t exactly obliged to send us the names of all their operatives.”
“I wouldn’t trust him, ma’am,” Salazar said. “Even if he helped save our lives, I don’t think it’s worth the risk. My recommendation is that we put him on a transport and send him out of the system. That has the fewest risks, just in case he finds a way to pull something.”
Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “I’d rather keep him close, Sub-Lieutenant, though I’ll keep your recommendation in mind.” She turned to Quinn, then asked, “Now tell me whether or not all of this was worthwhile, Jack.”
The engineer paused, looked at Salazar, then said, “I think I can put this together. They’ve designed it using standard components for the most part. The pressure hull is the tricky bit, but it’s just about within the limitations of our fabricator.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Understand that I’ve got no way to test this, and no way to confirm whether these plans are accurate. We just don’t have the software to run realistic simulations. I think that it’ll work, but we won’t be certain until it actually goes under the water.”
He pulled out a datapad, and added, “The ship has a crew of two, and looks simple enough to run. One thing we did get is some training software, and I’ve got Connors kit-bashing one of the shuttle trainers into something we can use to teach whoever is unfortunate to fly this thing how to make it work.”
Standing to attention, Salazar said, “I volunteer for that, Captain.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that, Pavel.”
“Before you’re so quick off the mark, Lieutenant,” Quinn replied, “I think you might want a better idea at what exactly you’re getting into.” He walked over to the wall monitor, entering a series of commands, and said, “Kolchak’s team has found a natural fissure in the ice, and even then, they’re having to use some heavy-duty drilling equipment to cut their way through. We don’t have any of that.”
“Can’t you fabricate it?” Nelyubov asked.
“Of course, sir, but if I did that, then I wouldn’t have the capacity to build the submersible. I can’t do both, not and guarantee beating the United Nations ground team to the punch.” He paused, and said, “And while I’m thinking about it, we’re definitely not going to have time to assemble this beast on the ground. I think three shuttles, flying in formation, can tow it down on top of an inflatable heat shield, but it’s going to be a hell of a ride for the poor bastards flying inside.”
“How do we get it back to Alamo?”
“We don’t. This is a one-shot deal, sir.” He paused, turned to Orlova, and said, “Cantrell and I have worked out a possible method of opening a fissure in the ice quickly, but you really aren’t going to like it, ma’am. Frankly, it’s scaring the hell out of me.”
“Try me, Jack,” she said, folding her hands together.
“We use a shaped nuclear charge to rip a hole in the ice. We’re talking low megaton yield. That I can assemble quite quickly, but we’ll need a team on the surface to set it up. Naturally, they’ll have to get out right before detonation. The catch is that it will freeze over surprisingly quickly. Which means that we’re going to have to drop the submersible from altitude, and parachute it into the hole. And it will freeze over well before they’ll have reached the sort of depth we’re talking about, so we’re going to
have to try the same trick again to get them out of there. This time with a shuttle on standby to pick them up.”
Nelyubov’s face paled, and he asked, “Lieutenant, are you telling me that you want to set off not one, but two shaped nuclear charges on the surface of a planet, within range of a United Nations surface installation?”
“That’s about the size of it, sir.” He paused, then added, “We’re not even at the bad part yet.”
“It gets worse?” Nelyubov replied.
“We’ll have no way of contacting the submersible once the ice freezes up again. So we’ll have to do it at a certain time.” He pulled out a datapad, and said, “I’ve calculated the speeds and course that the submersible will have to make, and it’s just about feasible for it to complete the mission on schedule, but there’s no margin for error. None at all. Worse, I’m pretty sure that the UN submersible is armed, but we don’t have the specifications for submarine weaponry, and there’s nothing much I can do about it in the time. Cantrell is going back through the database to see if we can manage something, but neither of us is particularly optimistic. Frankly, I don’t know enough about the design to want to risk making modifications to it.”
“What you are telling me, then, is that we’re going to be dropping an untested craft into the middle of a nuclear explosion, that we’re going to have to trigger a second explosion to get the craft back out again, that we have no way of testing the craft or properly training the crew, and that we’re not even completely sure where we’re sending them. Have I got this about right?”
“I think that’s about it, ma’am, yes,” Quinn replied. He glanced at Salazar again, and said, “My crews are ready to build the submersible and launch it if you give the word, Captain, but in all fairness I must state that I do not believe that this mission is practical, and that I suspect that anyone who steps into the craft is unlikely to live through the experience. I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s too risky.”
“I’m forced to agree,” Nelyubov added. “Not to mention the dangers involved in detonating a nuclear charge close to an enemy installation. If we make a mistake, any mistake at all, then we could easily find ourselves in the middle of a firefight. Is this really worth launching the Second Interplanetary War?”
Salazar turned to him, and replied, “We don’t know, sir, and I only know one way for us to find out. We’re going to have to go down there for ourselves and take a look. If it’s the path to the not-men, then we’ve got to find it. That’s why we came out here. If it’s something else, advanced weapon technologies, new propulsion systems, one of a thousand possible discoveries waiting for us, then we’ve got to investigate.”
Quinn frowned, and said, “After thousands of years, Sub-Lieutenant, do you really think that you’re going to find anything other than some shards of scrap metal? Their technology is well behind ours, and...”
“Today, sir, that’s true, but all the evidence suggests that this site dates back far further, and we don’t know what we’re going to find.” Turning to Orlova, he said, “We can’t just sit back and let the United Nations find this without even a fight. I know the risks as well as anyone else, and I’m happy to volunteer for the mission. I’m certain I can find a co-pilot.”
“No doubt,” Nelyubov said. “Pavel, I know this crew, and most of them would volunteer to take a dive into a star if they thought it was worth the sacrifice, but that doesn’t mean we have the right to order it. And while there might be a risk involved in leaving a potential discovery to someone else, that doesn’t mitigate the odds of starting a war out here. You think Kolchak is going to sit out there and wait while we light nuclear weapons on the surface of the planet? If I was commanding that ship, I’d be coming at Alamo with all weapons armed, full load-out, because I’d know that might be the only alternative. You’ve got to see this from the other point of view. They’ve got to want it just as badly as you do.”
“Which only proves my point, sir,” Salazar pressed. “Think of the logistics behind sending a ship this far out. We’re doing it because we’ve identified a clear and present threat to the survival of the Confederation, hell, the survival of humanity. They must have a similarly pressing motivation, or they’d never have come out here. Spartacus Station isn’t exactly friendly territory for them, and these days, it doesn’t have any strategic significance.” Turning back to Orlova, he continued. “If they want it, ma’am, then with all due respect, we want it too.”
Shaking his head, Quinn said, “You think we’re really about to start a war other just who gets to save the human race from the not-men?”
Cracking a smile, Salazar replied, “It won’t come to that, sir. They’re on a black op. They won’t ever admit what they’ve done out here. Worst case is that they’ll launch an attack on Alamo, try and destroy her to remove any evidence of what they did.”
“No,” Nelyubov replied. “The worst case, Sub-Lieutenant, is that they are successful. Besides, if they launch an attack on us, doesn’t that amount to the same thing?”
“Not necessarily,” Orlova said. “We’re on a covert operation ourselves. I doubt that anyone would raise much of a protest if we have a firefight out here.” Looking up at Salazar, she said, “Assuming I agree with your assessment of the realistic fears of a conflict, that still leaves Alamo facing a ship of equal strategic potential, one at full battle readiness.”
“I have confidence in Alamo to beat Kolchak, Captain, and if there is a battle, we’d be able to choose both the time and the place, ensure they are exactly to our liking. That’s not an objection.” Leaning forward on the desk, Salazar said, “Let me do this, Captain. It’s got to be worth a try. Even if we don’t find anything down there, at least we’ll have embarrassed United Nations Intelligence a little, maybe convince them that they won’t be able to pull off a stunt like this somewhere else.”
“I’ve got to admit, we might find some other uses for the submersible data. I’m almost surprised we got clear so easily,” Quinn replied. “Maybe we had more help back there than we realized. There’s still the not-men, Captain. They’re out here, somewhere, and I can’t help but think that we might be dancing to their tune.”
“They’ve left us a trail of breadcrumbs, sir,” Salazar said, “and at least we know that they’ve set some sort of a trap for us. That’s as good a way as any of dodging it.”
“Pavel,” Nelyubov asked, “have you ever actually flown, driven a submersible before?”
“I spent a leave on Enceladus once, sir. Took a look at the controls on the tourist boat. It didn’t look all that complicated.”
“Going down no deeper than, what, a hundred feet under the ice? We’re talking about forty, fifty thousand feet down. Levels that nobody has ever reached before, and you want to do it on an untested ship?”
“We don’t have time for anything else, sir.”
Orlova looked at the three officers, sighed, then said, “We’ll try it. Jack, start work on the submersible on the double. Frank, I’ll leave the charges to you and Cantrell. Have Ensign Cooper head down to the surface to set up some sort of forward camp. Make it look as though we’re planning on doing it the hard way, get something that at least looks like it might be a drill.”
“Will do,” Quinn said. “We’ll get it done, Captain. Somehow, we’ll beat Kolchak’s team to launch.”
“Pavel, you’d better head down to the launch bay and hit the simulators. Hopefully we’re not going to need any fancy maneuvering. And don’t forget the splashdown. You’ll have to precision-control the landing with parachutes, or the game will be up.”
“Understood, ma’am,” he replied. “Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll get this down.”
“Dismissed,” she said, and the three others turned, Quinn and Salazar leaving first, in hushed conversation, the engineer excited about the challenge ahead almost despite himself. Nelyubov paused at the door, turning back to Orlova.
&nbs
p; “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Captain? This is a big gamble, and I’m not sure the payoff is worth the risk we’re running.”
“Pavel’s right, Frank. We’re only going to know that if we take a look for ourselves, and I think that leaving the artifact down on the planet might be an even greater risk.”
“I hope you’re right, ma’am,” he said, walking out onto the bridge, the door sliding shut behind him.
“So do I, Frank,” she said, quietly. “So do I.”
Chapter 12
Salazar reached for the controls, gently guiding the submersible through the waters of the subsurface ocean, eddies and currents tossing him around, rocking him back and forth. It had rapidly become apparent that almost none of the quick-reactions to which he was accustomed would be worth anything in this environment. A far gentler touch was needed. Most of the systems and controls were at least based on shuttle models, so he was familiar with the designs, the details, but the readouts and reports were beyond him.
Likewise, the control software, littered with errors and warnings despite Harper and every hacker on the ship working overtime in a bid to get them to work. Getting the blueprints had only been a part of it, and they hadn’t managed to obtain the usual control software. Basic systems were one thing, the life support working just fine with the same design specifications on a shuttle, but the control functions, the handling, all of that was compromised.
The sensors were less problematic. Quinn had simply bolted a pair of under-ice probes to the unit, one of them rigged to detach at the touch of a button to allow them to monitor a specific area when necessary, though the range was far more limited than anything Salazar was used to. Fundamentally, he’d be probing an environment the like of which he had never seen before, and his thoughts were filled with a heady mix of anticipation and dread at the prospect.
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