The Long Way Home

by Darrell Bain

  "Thank you.” She paused to get her emotions under partial control, and then added in a strangled voice, “God bless and keep you."

  The upload continued. Beauchamp wanted to turn away, but she couldn't tear her eyes from the scene. Both airlocks blew outward from set charges, and some of the crew began hurriedly exiting with rifles already firing, on the slim hope that they could clear an area around the boat and provide room for Sam Johnston to give them covering fire, until a way could be worked out to rescue them with the other longboat. Just as abruptly, they were forced back inside or fell to the deck as tiny but lethally deadly pulses of energy from the Monkeyclaws’ weapons cut them down. Their armored camouflage provided little protection. A cacophony of yells and screams and the noise of guns firing on automatic prevented anyone from hearing Tem's last words as the remains of the longboat were overrun. Monkeyclaws were inside, rending and tearing where their weapons hadn't already killed, and firing with brutal, overwhelming efficiency where they had clear shots. The screen where Beauchamp and Roxley watched burned a brilliant red for a microsecond, and then blanked out. It was replaced by nothing but white static, as if a memorial shroud had been drawn over the last resting place of the longboat Shannon and her crew.

  "XO, Astrogator, take us out of here on our planned vector.” Beauchamp ordered. Her voice was shaky but firm. There was nothing else she could do, and she wasn't going to risk her other longboat boat or any more of her crew trying to communicate with those xenophobes. It was time to go home to Earth and report what they'd found. Even then, she intended to zigzag a bit to throw off any pursuit, in case they left noticeable traces of their passage. No sense in taking chances, and no telling when a Monkeyclaw interstellar ship might show up. Best to start for Earth while they could.

  "Vector is set, Captain,” Joyce Chambers said. “We can warp out of here in two hours to the next primary we had targeted."

  "Good. We'll get away from here, and then we can start picking the primaries to get us home,” Beauchamp responded. She felt sick inside. The loss of more than sixty men and women was her fault. She should never have sent the longboat to the surface—not before getting a positive response. She knew now that it would never have come. These aliens were either scared shitless of contact or were so paranoid that they shot at anything coming close to them. Or maybe they were evolved for xenophobic behavior. Whatever, it made no difference to those who had died.

  "XO, I'll be in my cabin for a few minutes. If I'm not..."

  "Contact! Vampires! Vampires!"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  XO Gordon Roxley's shouted warning rang through the control room. It was replaced seconds later by the urgent tones of General Quarters reverberating through the ship.

  Beauchamp turned her head so quickly that her loosely gathered mane of hair couldn't keep up. It brushed across her shoulders and then fell into place as she shouted the first essential command of any encounter in space.

  "Shields up! Thrusters on!"

  Her reaction was the result of hours upon hours of simulations, but never for an instant had she thought to hear the warning cry of incoming hostile missiles on an exploration voyage, or hear herself utter the defensive words with such fearful urgency.

  She may as well have saved her breath. Gordon Roxley was already moving, his fingers flying as he brought the shields up and asked the control computer to give them options for anti-missile fire. While his fingers and voice communicated with the computer, she stared at the holotank, fiercely willing it to be wrong. Unfortunately, there was no mistake. An alien spaceship had suddenly come into detection range. She knew it had to have been either stealthed or hidden somewhere on the other side of the big moon. Not that it mattered now. It had started shooting at them the instant it appeared, or perhaps even sooner, if its detection instruments were better than Sam Johnston's.

  "Fire Missiles One and Two!” Beauchamp ordered at the instant that Roxley's parameters appeared in the tank. Her words came out much more calmly than her first yell for the shields. She kept her eyes glued to the holoscreen and the two evil red icons distancing themselves from the other ship and heading toward them. She noted figures telling her that the alien ship was even larger than Sam Johnston, and that made her wonder what the enemy missiles would do to them. Their vector left no doubt of the target. They were heading for Sam Johnston, and she had no idea what their power might be or whether the shields would hold against them. Neither did she know whether her ship's defensive fire would be effective.

  Only seconds after she issued her order to fire anti-missiles, two clusters of green point sources appeared in the tank. Those were their own, with vectors pointing toward the hostile icons still blinking a lethal red as they advanced rapidly toward the ship. And less than a minute after that, the emblems of her defensive missiles disappeared in pinprick bursts of light while the alien missiles came on, not bothered in the least.

  Roxley's face was a startled mask. “Shit!” he said vehemently. “How in hell did they do that?” He glanced at Beauchamp with so much ire in his visage that one would have thought he was blaming the Captain for the way his anti-missiles had been destroyed. He turned back to his screen just in time to see the enemy missiles loose multiple energy pulses. The icons showing the balls of plasma energy winked rapidly as they came roiling at the Sam Johnston at twice the speed of their source.

  Beauchamp tensed. Her frozen features held for a moment, and then blanched. She staggered and sat down abruptly in her command chair as explosions ripped across Sam Johnston's shield walls with unexpected violence. The stern shield went down immediately. Raw energy hit the hull and bored through, tearing into the ship's thrusters. The bow and loading bay shields held, but barely. Knowing that they couldn't take another hit, she swiftly ran through her options.

  Her expression was controlled, but tiny muscles at her jaw line twitched—a sign of furious thought. She was rapidly going back over all their encounters with the Monkeyclaws, hoping something would occur to her to stop this obscene horror. This was the second system in the region of space they were exploring and the third attempted contact where the aliens had attacked without warning or giving any response to their contact protocols, which were almost pleading for a peaceful meeting. Two of the previous times it had been scouts the Sam Johnston carried that were attacked, and those from two different locations on what appeared to be a thinly settled world. They had been destroyed with no warning and for no apparent reason, other than, perhaps, xenophobia on the part of the aliens. She had taken her ship out of the star system where those attacks had happened, thinking that perhaps the inhabitants of a colony world were too defense-minded to chance a meeting with unknown aliens.

  In this new system, against the advice of her top officers, she had gone in deep, and then sent one of their two longboats to parley while she provided backup. It also appeared to be a colony world and was inhabited by the same species. She thought it was possible that she hadn't taken enough time before initiating contact. For this encounter, there shouldn't have been a doubt—not after a week of broadcasting. She wouldn't have come in this close had there been any sign of an interstellar ship in the system. She was merely trying to point out to the aliens that the longboat belonged to Sam Johnston. And she had ordered it to appear openly, unstealthed, so there could be no mistake.

  The recordings from Shannon put a horrifying end to the mistaken idea. Scenes of the action had been ... gruesome. The Monkeyclaws had swarmed over the remains of the boat after rendering it inoperable, tearing and rending the crew. Some of them had still been living. Beauchamp had shaken her head sadly after the scuttling and began retreating from the system. And now they were being fired on again. The alien starship was clearly bent on exterminating them. Or worse.

  "Give it another try, Roxy,” she said, and without waiting on him to answer, she turned to Lieutenant Wesley Bonner.

  "Wes, get the other longboat manned and provisione
d with everything it can carry. Have them ready to launch on a moment's notice. Begin downloading all the information we have on these things to the boat, and then start a general download of our data store. And hurry. I don't think we have much time."

  "What...?"

  "In case they manage to disable the other thrusters and try to board,” she said, nodding at the screen. “There! They just killed our second missile launch, and the next time they hit us we'll lose our shields completely. Even if they don't board, they're going to kill us. The longboat is going to be the only chance to tell Earth about these psychopathic bastards. Now go!"

  Her description fitted the aliens, at least from the human viewpoint, although their actions might be quite normal from their perspective. Whatever, she knew now that it had been a mistake to come in so far from the area of the primary's gravity well that she could use to transit from the system. Backing up the number one longboat had seemed a good idea at the time, but now she knew she should have kept the ship well back from the star, where they could escape quickly. Well ... she hadn't. There had been no sign of an enemy starship then, and now it looked as if most if not all of the crew were going to pay the price of her error.

  Wesley stared at the captain for a moment and then hurried away. How in hell does she know the aliens are going to board? It was only after entering the drop shaft toward the bay that the significance hit him. If they board, she'll have to scuttle! Standing orders from Exploration Headquarters required the Commanding Officer to safeguard the location of Earth and its colonies at all costs despite the prevailing opinion that an intelligent species would be friendly, should one ever be found. No one these days thought those orders would ever have to be carried out. It would be a simple matter, though. Overloading either of the fusion power plants would kill the ship and everyone on it, should it or any of its personnel be taken prisoner with no chance of rescue.

  "Joy, I want you put us on a bearing of three one niner, all speed with what we have left, then leave us and join the longboat. They'll need a better astrogator than Joseph Whistler if they manage to get away. Tell them to be ready at an instant's notice to make a translation.” The captain was still speaking calmly. Only someone who knew her well would be able to distinguish the bleak resolution beneath her composed voice.

  Characteristically, Joyce Chambers carried out her orders before turning back to the captain. “What are you planning?"

  Beauchamp looked as if she were studying the holotank, but it was only a method of keeping her attention focused while she decided on what to tell the control room crew. She knew to the fraction of a light second the relative positions and speed of Sam Johnston and the other ship.

  "Assuming they plan on boarding rather than just killing us and be done with it, I'm going to try getting the other longboat away. We can launch it while the ship itself shields it. By the time it's loose and under thrust, we'll both be behind the Jovian planet. That should cover us another seven or eight minutes. We have too much mass for its gravity well to transit from here, but the longboat doesn't. With its momentum from us and on our present vector, and with this star in the right direction, Hurricane Jack can use the Jovian to transit farther out almost immediately. After that, they can utilize the primary's gravity well to get the hell out of this region of space. Hopefully, our friends there will let us get away with it. Also hopefully, they won't detect the longboat when it transits.” She shrugged, knowing there was no way to tell how precise or accurate the aliens’ detection and scanning systems were, although the accuracy of their missiles left little doubt that the enemy's systems were as least as good as their own.

  Joyce Chambers took one last look at the plot and nodded. “They can do it, if Joe doesn't try to argue.

  "See to it that he doesn't. We can't give them even a hint that we're from this arm or where the home worlds are located. The boat needs to get well away from this region before heading for Earth. Go now, and good luck. Get them back home, Joy."

  "I will, Skipper. Godspeed.” She brushed a stray tress of blonde hair back over her shoulder and departed before the captain could see her tears. She heard the all-ship com begin calling as she hit the drop shaft.

  "Hurricane Jack, man your stations! Hurricane Jack, all aboard, full kits. Five minutes. Hurricane Jack, man your stations, full kits, this is no drill! Hurricane...” The mantra continued over and over, ringing through the passages, staterooms and bays of the great starship and causing personnel of the remaining longboat to begin scrambling toward their duty stations.

  "All right, gang,” Beachamp said with a surprising smile. “They're not firing now, but they are coming on a bit faster than our best speed. Let's get the longboat away. Then we'll run for our transit point and see how far we get. And if we have to fight again, let's do Sam Johnston proud."

  An image formed in her mind that bore no relation to fact. The gravity well that distorted spacetime near planets and stars provided means of entering hyperspace, but only at specific distances from the mass causing the distortion. She visualized the primary as a flaming ball surrounded by a multitude of transparent points that represented the specific distance from the star where hyperspace could be entered. She had no need of the complicated mathematics. Astrogators could pretty well picture the transit points simply by knowing the mass of a star and its speed of rotation, but they needed the help of computers to take a ship through one at the precise speed, direction, angle and thrust to reach their target stars. In known space they used simplified and precalculated formulas that only required entering vectors and mass figures and then adjusting them for distortions that occurred over time and for the star they wanted to reach, but out here so far from known space the tables were fairly useless. Any place on the imaginary points could be used for transits into hyperspace, but again, calculations were required to impart direction toward a target star, although distances need not be measured. Inevitably, once entering hyperspace the ship would come out near the closest mass in that direction which could be used by the ship, so long as it had sufficient power to travel that distance. In practice, that almost always meant a star. Masses much smaller than a stellar object could not be used by starships.

  On the other hand, Hurricane Jack was able to utilize the much smaller gravity well of the big Jovian-type planet to transit outward to the nearest greater mass of the system's star since it was in that direction at the present orbit of Sam Johnson. That would allow the longboat to put some distance from the aliens before making a second transit—one using the star's gravity well—to depart the system entirely. That was her intention for the longboat. If the timing and orbits she calculated in her head was correct. And if the alien ship didn't pull another surprise.

  * * * *

  Jeremy Costa bounced from his bunk even as his eyes blinked into resentful wakefulness. Damn it, I've just gotten to sleep. What was...? Then he heard the com warbling for battle stations. He dressed hurriedly but barely finished before the call for the longboat crew began, including this is no drill. The last dregs of irritation departed. In its place he felt a surge of excitement and apprehension.

  We're in trouble. He knew it somehow, sensed it deep in his bones as he scurried to grab whatever he could of his personal gear in the few minutes he had before launch. It was the hurried nature of the order that fretted him. Normally, longboat launchings were a study in deliberate action, one step at a time, with everyone following a checklist for the big boats that were as large as an old wet navy frigate. Not now! Five minutes would barely give all the boat crew and explorers the time to get aboard and allow the thrusters to come on line. He was suddenly glad he'd begun leaving many items of his personal gear secured in his tiny cabin on the boat. He eyed the time, grabbed his extra pair of boots, slung another set of cammies over his shoulder, picked up his go-bag and ran for the drop shaft. He turned a corner in the passageway and barreled into a woman he thought was the Chief Astrogator in his excitement. She was carrying a duffle and appeared to be in as
much of a hurry as he was. He raised a hand from the arm cradling his boots in a warding gesture and it came to rest squarely on her right breast.

  "Oh! Excuse me, ma'am ... I'm in a hurry!” His face flamed as he tried both to withdraw his hand and weave around her with his arms full. His dual efforts caused him to drop one of his bags. The pretty astrogator caught it for him and piled it back on top of his other belongings.

  "So am I, young man. I'm going with you.” She proved it by shoving him unexpectedly into the shaft and followed behind, laughing at his surprise when he dangled helplessly for a moment, having been unprepared for being pushed into the open shaft without warning.

  Jeremy wondered no further about what the astrogator was up to. Hands full, he spread his feet to touch the walls of the shaft. Obediently, it slowed and propelled him through an opening into the boat bay. He was much more concerned over what Explorer Chief (EC) Casey Dugan might think (and do) if he, Jeremy, was so much as a second late settling into his seat. This was his first exploration voyage, and he was determined to come out of it with a good rating, despite the trouble they'd had with these new aliens, who were so warlike against all expectations.

  He came out on the opposite side of the bay where the longboat, Hurricane Jack, was normally berthed. Somehow, during the last weeks of trying to make peaceful contact with the aliens into whose empire they had apparently blundered, the berthing positions had gotten switched. Having forgotten, he took the route he had been accustomed to during innumerable drills and not a few launchings. He didn't dare take time to look at his watch again. He stumbled to his assigned seat and quickly deposited his belongings into the overhead. It was already tightly packed with his partner's gear.

  "You just barely made it,” Siegfrer Sorenson said from her place next to him. She grinned merrily, as if the summons was just a drill, but that was her normal countenance. She had been laughing happily ever since he met her and presumably since she'd been assigned to the Hurricane right out of training.