by John Ringo
Reyes continued more or less to the rear of the ship, drifting outwards slightly. The ship generated a very small gravity field, thus the term “microgravity,” and it was possible he could still be pulled down to the deck. The “upward” vector had slowed noticeably as Herzer watched. That was, until he passed the protective guards around the ion cannons. Those extended out a meter from the hull and Herzer had been slightly worried that Reyes might figure out a way to snag one. Once he was beyond the guards, he was very much in deep space. Of course, he might still call on Mother for help. Couldn’t have that.
“Evan, you in Engineering?” Herzer asked.
“Yes,” Evan said. “The Durgar are gone. They all just left, even before Captain Van Buskirk could get to them. He says they’re headed towards the control room.”
“Much good it will do them,” Herzer said, watching the rapidly dwindling council member. “Evan, do me a favor.”
“What?” Evan asked.
“Hit the main engine start,” Herzer replied.
“You’re serious?” Evan asked.
“Yep,” Herzer said. “Can you start it?”
“Easy,” Evan replied, curiously. “I’ll do it right now. But why? It’s only going to send us that much faster to Earth.”
“I just want to see what happens,” Herzer said, standing about a meter behind the blast shield.
“Engaging… now.”
The space behind the ship was suddenly lit by a blue glare, so fierce that Herzer quickly dropped his solar goggles over his eyes. The council member, however, was noticeable even in the glare. The edge of the field had impacted the grav field around the council member, which had brightened even beyond the glare of the excited ions exiting the rear of the ship.
Herzer felt himself very slightly pushed to the rear of the ship and stuck one hand out to brace against the blast shield. He kept his eye on the council member’s bright figure, though, until with a final blast of fire, it winked out.
“Kill it,” Herzer said a second later, blinking his eyes.
“Done,” Evan said as the blue glare of the drive dissipated. “What was that all about?”
“A physics experiment,” Herzer replied. “Megan, honey, you okay?”
Chapter Thirty
Megan was done being frightened.
She had only spent a few years in the harem, after all, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the sky the rest of her life. But she’d found, after being inside four stone walls for five years, that the outside world had become a frightening place.
And space was ten times worse. She was on the underside of the ship, now, in darkness and cold with nothing around her but the curving hull and space. It frightened her so bad that she’d been walking with her eyes shut and when she opened them she realized she had no idea which way the lock was.
“I will overcome this,” she muttered, staring at the smooth hull that stretched in every direction and then out to the stars. “I will.”
She took two of her thigh magnets and then slowly lay backwards, holding herself in place with her boot magnets and outspread arms. Her full armor was more than proof against the interplanetary cold of the hull, so she lay there, drinking in the light of the stars. So many stars, so many planets. And humans confined to just the one, trying again to wipe themselves out. If the ship impacted, they would wipe themselves out.
She felt a slight shudder and a pulling motion and realized that the main engines had started. But after a moment, they shut off again, and the stars hadn’t changed one iota. They didn’t care about humanity, about its survival or its fall. But she did. So she reached for the power, grappling with it, eyes open to the stars. And felt it… change.
“Mother,” Megan said. “Are you doing this?”
“Yes, Megan,” Mother replied. “You’re inside geosynchronous orbit. I can now affect your systems and aid you in what you’re trying to do.”
“Can you give me any power?” Megan asked.
“Very little,” Mother admitted. “Reyes just used the full power of the Samarian reactor and the Net is… chaotic. The power battles that had been going on shifted, dramatically, but they are ongoing. You must use the power of the engines if you wish for humanity to survive.”
“Will it be that bad?” Megan asked.
“You’re currently going nearly fifteen kilometers a second,” Mother noted. “On its present course, the ship will pass the Earth just outside of the atmosphere, circle outward and then do a nearly direct reentry impacting in the northern Po’ele Ocean. Given that entry, it is likely that the vast majority of the mass of the ship, and the fuel, will survive to impact. The impact will transmit through the water to shatter the crust of the planet and send the equivalent of the entire water in the Terrane basin into the atmosphere, shutting off light for at least two years, not counting exgassing from the continent-sized volcano that will form. It will be that bad.”
“How do we stop it?” Megan asked.
“Follow me,” Mother replied, bringing up an orbital schematic. “The power is still tied to you. You need to shove the ship to the right and forward, speeding it up on its trajectory past Earth. That will bring it around into a long elliptical orbit. Each time we come around, we’ll impact the atmosphere, lightly I hope. That’s what’s going to slow us down, but if we go in too steep, I won’t be able to hold the shields against the reentry heat. It’ll be a long process. And we can’t start until the shuttles that are preparing to dock are attached.”
“Megan, honey,” Herzer said. “You okay?”
“I am now,” Megan replied in a distracted tone. “I’m on the underside of the ship. We need to start evacuating.”
“The shuttles are just about to dock,” Herzer said, looking at one of them coming in. “We’ll reactivate some of the other shuttles, fuel them and then get out. I don’t think there’s much we can do to stop the reentry.”
“Yes, there is,” Megan said, looking at the void of stars. “Get everyone out of here. I’m going to be riding the ship down.”
“Disable the shuttles,” Satyat said, shaking his head as he unbolted the top of the fusion plant. “Enable the shuttles. When does it end?”
“Now,” Linda said, handing him the injector. “We’ve got to get out of here. Fast. The ship’s about to hit the atmosphere. We’ll pass through it, but it’s going to be unpleasantly spectacular. And we won’t want to be outside.”
“Well, this one’s up,” Satyat replied, sliding the injector into place. “Let’s slide up front and get out of here.”
“Shuttles two, three and six are scheduled for Alabad, Penan and Taurania,” Herzer said, looking over the remaining Blood Lords. “The four with crew are full. You guys go down on those on autopilot. See you on the ground.”
“Where are you going to be?” Bus asked, curiously.
“Megan has to ride the ship down to control the reentry,” Herzer said. “I’m going to ride it down with her.”
“You are alive,” Tur-uck said, grinning at the Dark One.
The elf shook his head and looked around the room. It appeared to be a small control room of some sort. And it wasn’t under gravity. And he hurt. Badly. Burns all over his body and electric shock from the feel of it. He had been tortured.
The last thing he remembered was fighting an orc just like this one, one of hundreds that had ambushed him as he was trying to penetrate the scout screen of Chansa’s main continental force in Ropasa. At the moment, he was far too weak to fight it, so he bided his time, hoping that he would recover enough to do battle one last time.
But there was no memory of the torture. Just an aching… black feeling in his mind. He felt a rage he didn’t understand. It was not in the way of the elves to feel rage. He closed his eyes and leaned back.
“Get it over with,” he said. “Torture me. Or kill me. I care not.”
“Why the hell should I torture you, Tragack?” the orc asked, grinning. “Hell, I saved your life and dragged you here when
everyone else thought you were dead. I’m hoping you know something about space you weren’t letting on to the Great One. Otherwise, we’re fisked.”
“I’ve got the grav field engaged,” a thickly accented voice said. “And main power’s on to the engines. This thing’s a might rickety, though. And it’ll ne’er survive reentry.”
“Fly it I will!” The voice was high and shrill and sounded half mad. Probably a goblin Change form. At least three of them, but the orc form was the main fighter. He reached for the power, for the gaslan, and found both areas… empty. He felt only half an elf at the moment, less, nearly human. To lose the gaslan. Nothing could take the gaslan. There was no future to feel. He was riding on the winds of fate, half dead and not even half alive.
The elf felt another of those odd spasms of rage. He wanted to kill the damned orc, kill everything in the ship. And he couldn’t even move his arms. His right one felt so fried it might never be useable.
“Where is this?” he asked as the gravity slowly came on. It was still less than Earth. They were in orbit. “How did I get here?”
“You don’t remember?” the orc said, backing away. “What do you remember?”
“Fighting ones like you,” Sildoniel said, honestly if hoarsely. “Arrows. Many arrows. Too many. Falling.” He lifted his left arm, slowly, it was as fast as it would go, and ran it over his face. The hand when he drew it back was taloned instead of having finely manicured nails and the face was… broader, the nose flatter. “What has happened to me?” he asked, trying to rise, his anger getting red hot. “What have you done to me?”
“What’s your name?” the orc asked, drawing his sword.
“Wait,” Sildoniel said, rolling to sit up and feeling queasy with even that much motion. His right arm wasn’t just useless, it was gone just below the shoulder. “Just wait. Stay your sword, orc. If you are to kill me, tell me at least why I am come here.”
“You’re back,” the orc said, his eyes wide. “It’s you. What is your name?”
“Sildoniel a tor Melessan,” the former Dark One said, looking the orc in the eye. “What’s yours?”
* * *
“You shouldn’t be here,” Megan said, distantly, as the void began to fluoresce. The ship was hitting the very upper edges of the atmosphere, mostly monatomic oxygen, and she was having to shunt the power to form a protective field. Where the oxygen was hitting the field, the results were… energetic.
“Neither should you,” Herzer said. “The radiation is going to be a nightmare.” The ship was also passing through the Van Allen belt, the magnetic belt that prevented much of space’s radiation from hitting the Earth. But the belt concentrated that radiation, making it hot enough to cook eggs.
“The shield’s holding it,” Megan replied as the ship shuddered from the launch of seven shuttles. “I’ll be fine. And I’m the only one that has to stay.”
“Whither thou goest,” Herzer said, squatting down next to her.
“You’re so corny,” Megan replied with a smile in her voice.
“So, you getting used to the view?” Herzer asked. The ship’s “down” side was actually pointed away from the Earth, with nothing above but stars. The Moon would be coming up, soon, though, at the rate they were going.
“Looks pretty good,” Megan said, shifting slightly. The ship began to rotate and Herzer quickly got out a hand magnet and clamped it down to keep himself in place. The ship spun on its axis until the Earth came into view and then stopped.
“That was pretty nice,” Herzer said, carefully. “You do that?”
“Mother and I,” Megan replied. “We’re sort of… one in this.”
“Great,” Herzer said. “Look, let’s get someplace where I can at least hold onto something.”
“I need to be out here,” Megan said, distantly.
“Fine,” Herzer replied, putting a hand on her arm. “There’s a nice docking bay not far from here. We can sit in that while you do… whatever you’re doing.”
“Wait,” Megan said distantly. “Look.”
Herzer realized that the… shape of the fluorescence had changed. Where before it had been a cigar shape extending out from the ship about seventy meters, now, along the “bottom” and “top” it had flattened and extended out to either side. It now formed…
“Are those wings?” Herzer asked, blinking rapidly at the ghostly halo shapes.
“Yes,” Megan said, standing up carefully and holding out her hand. “I need the shield, anyway, to keep the ship from disintegrating. But with the wings I can reduce our speed by atmospheric skipping. At least, that’s what Mother says.”
“Maybe we should just let it disintegrate,” Herzer pointed out. “If it broke up in the upper atmosphere, it wouldn’t destroy the Earth.”
“I’d much prefer to live to see home again,” Megan pointed out. “I think I can get it, and us, to the ground intact. You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Herzer admitted.
“Then what in the hell are you doing here?” Megan asked, angrily.
“Whither thou goest,” Herzer repeated. “If you were going to commit suicide bringing this thing down, I was going to be right there by you. Besides, I figured you might have a survivable plan. I figured it was a low-order probability, though.”
“Well, Mother does,” Megan said, sighing. “I think. It’s going to take some work, though. We’re going to be orbiting for about ten hours.”
“Our suits won’t last that long,” Herzer pointed out.
“There are spare air bottles in Engineering,” Megan said. “When the ship’s not on a close fly-by I can drop some of my concentration. Then it’s just a matter of light steering and drive.”
Herzer settled her into the docking ring, which had a lip that made for a comfortable seat, and settled down beside her.
“Nice view,” he said as the Earth slid by.
“Looks like a hurricane in the Po’ele,” Megan said, pointing.
“They call them typhoons for some reason,” Herzer replied. “How you doing?”
“Fine,” Megan said. “We’re outbound, now. We’ll swing out, beyond geosynchronous orbit, then back down. We’re going to do that about a half a dozen times before we’re in a close orbit. When we get down there, I’m going to be busy.”
“And you really want to do it all from out here?” Herzer asked.
“Yes,” was all Megan said.
“So you’re telling me I’ve been a servant of the Dark for the last three years?” Sildoniel asked.
“Yeah,” Tur-uck replied.
“And we’re in a fueling shuttle, which is about to crash into the Earth?”
“Yeah,” Tur-uck said. He was holding a sword on the one-armed elf but the damned thing was recovering so fast he wasn’t sure it was worth it.
“And all the reentry shuttles are disabled,” the elf continued.
“That’s the case,” Tur-uck said. “The rest of those Durgar fisks were out on the hull when we went through the outer atmosphere. I think they all got fried.”
“Good,” Sildoniel said, stretching. “Is there any food in this thing?”
“Replicators,” Gomblick said. “The food’s bland but it’s hot.”
“And water, of course,” the elf said. “So, we can crash with the ship, or battle to the death, or we can take this ship, which is more than capable of interplanetary distances, and try to find a habitat that survives.”
“Yeah,” Tur-uck said.
“Find a reentry capable ship would be nice,” the kobold added.
“You are a Change,” Sildoniel said, cocking his head to the side. “You must obey the orders of your Masters.”
“I’ve been known to ignore them,” Tur-uck replied, tapping his head. “Celine, she’s the one that Changed you by the way, she said that I’m a bad product. I’ve got a plate in my head. It gives me a headache sometime but I don’t have the same binding as most orcs. Yours are, what, gone?”
“As is much else,”
Sildoniel said with a sigh.
“Your arm was crisped,” Tur-uck said. “We had to take it off.”
“I was not speaking of my arm,” the elf replied, softly. “There is… brain damage. I presume it was from the… Change that Celine forced upon me. It would be very hard for me to even speak Elvish at the moment. Very well. A truce, servant of the Dark. We shall go in search of a reentry capable ship. And when we return to Earth, I shall permit you and these to go, unmolested.”
“Nice of you to say that,” Tur-uck said, dryly. “Seeing as I’m the one holding the sword.”
Sildoniel cocked his head to the side and his left hand blurred out, snatching the sword out of the orc’s hand and flipping it around to grasp it.
“And now I am,” Sildoniel said. “Goblin. Detach from the ship now that we are out of the atmospheric effects. Let us go try to find a habitat that survives.”
* * *
“I think I can control from in here,” Megan said. She was lying on the deck of the maintenance bay, her eyes closed. “But when we get in the atmosphere, we’re going to want to be on the outside.”
“Why?” Herzer asked. He’d figured out how to bring up the navigation plot and was watching the little ship figure move through the degrading orbit. It was hypnotic. And, okay, terrifying.
“I’m going to aim for a water landing,” Megan replied distantly. The ship was currently on its closest approach to the atmosphere and Herzer could feel a deep rumbling through the structure. Part of that was the fusion generators running at max, but the rest was a touch of the atmosphere hitting the shields. “We’re not going to want to be inside.”
“Gotcha,” Herzer said. “We going to be able to breathe? Out of the suits, that is, since we don’t want to hit the water in them. Armor and all that.”
“We’ll have to find out,” Megan replied. She paused and winced.