Here he would need to be more careful, placing his tweezers underneath the damaged section and twisting it back and forth, trying to ease it out rather than using force. It started to move, slowly, but not far enough, and the connector still stayed resolutely in position.
“Sixty seconds, Cooper,” Quinn said. “Come on, Gabe.”
Taking a deep breath, he tugged at the cable, and finally it popped free. Gently sliding it into the datapad, he was rewarded with a second blue light, and an array of data began to stream down the screen, lights flashing on all around the cabin, a crackle of noise rising in the background of his helmet.
“Internal systems are coming back!” Quinn said. “By damn, Gabe, you’ve done it!”
“Forty-nine seconds to spare,” he replied.
“Now hang on. We’re going to be maneuvering any second now.”
Cooper looked around the room, pulling a half-retracted acceleration couch free from the wall, and clumsily strapped himself into it. He looked out of the gap, where the remnants of Wyvern were coming into view. All they needed now was some good flying, and they were home. Some damn good flying.
Chapter 26
Orlova watched Wyvern explode on the viewscreen, a brief, blinding flash of light that rapidly faded to an expanding ball of debris. The scoutship had been close to an asteroid at the second of detonation, and the rock was caught in the blast, fragments ripped from it joining the blast wave. Collision alarms echoed throughout the bridge, Alamo’s trajectory taking them right into it.
“One minute, fifty seconds,” Nelyubov said, rising from his seat.
“Unbelievable,” Powell added. “The largest explosion ever witnessed by man, and we’ve got a front-row seat. I hope the sensor feeds are picking up some good data.”
“That’s all you can think about?” Foster asked.
With a smile, he replied, “Have faith. Once we get through this, I intend to spend many happy hours going over all of this.” He turned back to the holotable, and added, “Evasion course is plotted, ready for implementation.”
“We’ve got nothing to implement it with,” Foster said. She turned to the viewscreen, saying, “It’s so damn unfair.”
“Grogan, anything?”
“I still don’t have any communications from the lower levels,” the technician replied, glancing up at her monitor station. “Last I heard, a team was trying to cut their way through to Relay Nine in spacesuits.”
“One minute, thirty seconds,” Nelyubov said. “Just in case anyone’s interested.”
“Not really,” Spinelli said. “I’d rather it be a nice surprise.”
“I’d rather it didn’t happen at all,” Weitzman added. “Any point trying the escape pods?”
“In that mess?” Hooke said. “You’d be torn to pieces. I’d rather get it over with quickly.”
Orlova looked around the bridge, and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, it has been an honor and a privilege…”
“Wait!” Grogan yelled, pointing at the display, red lights flashing back to amber, “I don’t know how the hell they did it, but the main power grid is back on-line!” She started to frantically tap commands, saying, “Main engines warming up. Foster, you should be getting helm response.”
“It’s working!” Foster said. “Implementing course, main engine sequence start.”
“Take it easy at first,” Grogan warned. “We’re still nowhere near full power, and if you push it too hard, you’ll blow one of the relays. It’s only spit that’s holding some of them together now!”
“If I take it easy, Spaceman, there won’t be a ship to worry about in a few minutes.” Reaching down underneath her station, she said, “Going to fine control on the throttle. Give me all the power you can.”
With a quick pulse on the thrusters, Foster turned Alamo’s nose up and away, placing it in a pro-grade position, then ran the engines up as fast as she could. The background chant of the warning alerts changed in tone, the collision alarms replaced by hull stress warnings, the weakened hull threatening to buckle as the acceleration ramped up. One of the rear cameras showed a trail of debris following Alamo like a comet’s tail, frozen air and water glinting in the sunlight.
Turning to the holotable, Orlova zoomed the display in as far as she could, focusing on Alamo and the expanding cloud of debris it was still heading for. Nelyubov walked over to look, no work left for him at his post, as the course projection slowly began to curve up, laboriously swinging to a safe position.
“Relay Two’s giving problems,” Grogan said. “I think someone’s working on it, but I’ve got to cut power.”
“I need more thrust, not less!” Foster replied, using every trick she knew to gain speed, to push the wounded battlecruiser into a higher, safer orbit. The debris field was a couple of hundred miles across, and still expanding, washing across a second asteroid and leaving a pock-marked array of craters, dust smashing out in the opposite direction. For a brief second, the computer almost seemed to give up, the whole screen ghosting as it struggled to calculate the millions of divergent course trajectories ahead.
Slowly, desperately, it was beginning to work, Alamo rising above the expanding cloud. After a couple of orbits, it would be too dispersed to worry about, slowly coalescing into a very temporary ring system for the shattered worldlet beneath. Even now, it was less of a threat than it had been, but as Alamo rose, it spread wider, trying to catch the ship in its net.
“We’re going to skirt the outer limits at best,” Nelyubov said. “Weitzman, do you have any internal communications at all?”
“Only for a couple of decks, sir,” he replied.
“Warn anyone you can to stand by for more impacts in the outer hull, port side.”
“Come on,” Foster said. “Come on, old girl, one more push.”
Orlova stepped forward, resting her hand on the helm console as she watched Alamo grow closer to the cloud of death ahead of them. Foster had done everything she could do, but it wasn’t going to be quite enough.
The ship shuddered and shook as radioactive hail rained down the starboard side, tossing the vessel around from new punctures in the hull, new pressure leaks that acted as temporary jets, Foster struggling to keep a straight heading, riding the engines. With a last, brief, smash, loud enough to set the hull ringing, they were through, and Orlova looked down at the deck, shaking her head.
“I told you,” Powell said, a smile on his face. “Sometimes, you just have to have faith.”
“More damage reports coming in. Can we slow the acceleration down now, please?” Grogan asked. “Other systems need power, and I’m still only at half-capability.”
“Cutting to one-tenth,” Foster replied. “Enough to put us into a much higher orbit, and still clear of the debris field.” She shook her head, and said, “That was too damn close.”
“Can you get me some sort of damage report?” Orlova said, turning to Foster.
Frowning, the engineer replied, “It looks a lot worse than it is. We’re going to need a new coating for the outer hull, and we’ve got some superstructure repair, but we can jump back to Yeager Station without it. If we can manage a couple of days without anyone shooting at us, we can get the power relays fixed.” Turning, she said, “We’ll be able to leave the system on schedule, ma’am.”
“Communications coming back,” Weitzman said. “Getting casualty reports.” He looked across, and said, “It’s not good news. Four dead, all from the damage control crews, and nineteen injured. Doctor Duquesne is entering surgery now.”
Nodding, Orlova replied, “Thank you, Spaceman. I’ll want their names and any details of how they died. What about our wayward children, Spinelli? How are the sensors?”
“Resolution’s still terrible beyond our immediately local environment, ma’am. We won’t know anything until we get clear of the outer limits of the swarm. I lost track of
Orbital One right as Wyvern went up.”
Moving to her side, Nelyubov said, “Pavel knew the risk, and he accepted it gladly. If anyone could pull of a stunt like that, he could.”
“He’d have been almost out of fuel, not enough to give himself a decent safety margin.”
“It wasn’t just him,” Weitzman said. “Scott was in the co-pilot’s seat.”
“What was she doing on board?” Nelyubov asked.
“No idea, sir. I was only able to monitor at the time.”
“Maybe she was trying to escape, to get back to her friends on Wyvern,” Foster said. “It would make sense. We were about to be destroyed, her mission completed. Hell, maybe she was just trying to run for it.”
“Or perhaps she decided that she would rather die with honor than live with the shame that was being loaded upon her,” Powell said. “Judge not, Sub-Lieutenant. Now that you are an officer, that’s more important than ever.”
“Does that stand, ma’am?” Foster asked. “I mean…”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. It won’t be official until we get back, but I don’t think there’s any need to bother with a commissioning board. You can put up the new insignia when you go off duty.” Shaking her head, she added, “Whenever the hell that is.”
“Coming through the cloud now,” Nelyubov said. “Long-range sensors are coming back. We’re gaining resolution.” He looked at the tracks, eyes ranging across a thousand pieces of shuttle-sized debris drifting in orbit. “No sign of course change, no trace of any activity in orbital space.”
With a sigh, Spinelli said, “I guess it was too much to hope for. All that debris, the radiation field…”
“Orbital One to Alamo,” the speaker crackled, loaded with distortion, “Come in, please. Orbital One calling, please respond.”
“I’ll be damned,” Nelyubov said.
A cheer rose up from around the bridge, and Orlova replied, “Orbital One, this is Alamo, receiving you very faint, but we’ve got you. What’s your status?”
“Our orbit is skewed all to hell and gone, but we’re stable and set for a hundred orbits. Fuel tanks drained, so someone’s going to need to pick us up. I have Lieutenant Harper and Sub-Lieutenant Scott on board, alive and well.” His voice dropped, and he added, “I was unable to retrieve Lieutenant Grant before his shuttle crashed into Wyvern.”
“Damn it, Pavel, you just pulled off a miracle saving Harper. I’m not going to question it.” Glancing across at Weitzman, she added, “We’ll scramble Orbital Two to come and pick you up, right away. You should be back on board in a few minutes.”
“I have the hangar deck,” the communications technician replied. “Shall I have Sergeant Gurung ride on board to act as guard?”
“Guard?” Harper’s voice broke in. “What the hell for? Am I that dangerous?”
“Sub-Lieutenant Scott is wanted on charges of treason, mutiny and desertion,” Nelyubov explained. “She was ordered not to leave the ship, and was meant to be escorted at all times.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Scott said. “I was just trying to help out.”
“For the last six months,” Harper said, “Kat Scott has been an undercover agent seconded to Triplanetary Intelligence. If it wasn’t for her, we’d never have known anything about what was going on out here. She deserves a damn medal, not…”
The line went dead, and Weitzman started to work his board, replying, “Our end, not theirs, ma’am. We’re still having intermittent problems. Shall I try to reestablish the link?”
“Could be tricky,” Grogan added. “We’re still getting new malfunctions cropping up.”
“Orbital Two is launching now,” Nelyubov said. “Intercept in five minutes, back down on the deck in eleven.”
“Let it go, then,” she replied.
“Amazing,” Powell said, looking down at the deck. “Some of the information we’re getting in. I’ll have enough for a dozen papers here, some of the byproducts of the explosion…”
“People died,” Nelyubov said.
Nodding, Powell replied, “I know. Isn’t it better to think that they died for something that will make a difference, will enhance our understanding of the universe?” Tapping the panel, he said, “All of this gives their sacrifice meaning. Long after this battle is a forgotten footnote, researchers will be using this data to create new theories about the origin of the universe, new sources of power for our ships. That’s why we’re out here, isn’t it? To understand? Space cannot be conquered, it’s far too vast for that.” Suddenly conscious that all eyes were on him, he added, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make a speech.”
“I’m glad you did,” Orlova said, clapping the old man gently on the shoulder. “Sometimes it’s too easy to lose our perspective. Frank, can you rustle up a couple of probes for data collection?”
Nelyubov’s eyes widened, but he nodded, replying, “I think so. We’ve got a couple on Storage Five, and the launch tubes in that area are working.”
“Then get them up, before the traces decay.” Turning to Powell, she said, “I’ll let you handle guidance and course plot.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “You understand, don’t you.”
“Not yet,” she said. “One day, I intend to.” Turning to Nelyubov, she continued, “You have the bridge, Frank. I’m going down to meet Orbital One when it gets in.”
“Welcoming the returning heroes?”
“Trying to find out what the hell all this was for.”
Chapter 27
Salazar sat back in his chair, running through the final stages of post-flight as Orbital One rose up to the hangar deck. He looked around, shaking his head at the chaos all around him. A temporary triage facility was being supervised by Garland along one wall, and technicians were working frantically under Kowalski’s direction, attempting to restore at least a modicum of order to the area.
The hatch cranked open, and he said, “Scott, you’d better go and report in. If anyone gives you any trouble, tell them I ordered you to come with me.”
“You didn’t give me much choice.” Turning to Harper, she said, “You still owe me an explanation.”
“Not in public,” she replied, glancing at Salazar. “No offense, Pavel, but this is Ultra-level classified.”
“None taken. Go and wait in the deck officer’s room,” he said. “I’ll send Harper out to you in a minute.” Turning back to the hacker, he said, “I need to speak with you for a second.”
“Sure,” Scott said, sliding out through the hatch to the deck beyond, walking unseen through the turmoil. Harper leaned back in her chair, turning a datapad around in her hands.
“Pavel, there’s not much I can tell you.”
“That’s fine,” he replied. “It’s more about what I’m going to tell you. She’s a double agent. I understand that much, and you’ll have to make it public if she’s going to get past what you’ve apparently put her through.”
“There wasn’t a choice.”
Raising a hand, he said, “Spaceman Third Class Fox was also working for you in an undercover capacity. I want to make sure that goes in your official report as well.”
“No, he wasn’t. He changed sides, went with Tramiel when he first defected.”
Sighing, Salazar said, “I don’t think you understand. You owe me twice now, once for Thule and now for that little stunt I pulled to snatch you out of the fire. I wouldn’t call it in for myself, but I’m calling it in for him. I had a chance to look at the lists for myself, and the only one among those people who came up with me from the surface registered AWOL is Fox. If we was working for you, that won’t matter.”
Frowning, Harper said, “I don’t know.”
“I do. I made the kid a promise, and you’re the only chance I have to keep it. For God’s sake, he has a family back home. And you know full well that he wasn’t one
of the ringleaders. Just a kid those bastards dragged along for the ride, pulling him by his sense of duty.”
She paused for a second, then said, “He’ll have to be watched. And it’ll be a very long time before he gets a deep-space assignment.”
“If he’s got any sense, he’ll quit the Fleet while he’s ahead.”
“You didn't,” she replied. “I'll do it. But that makes us even, Pavel. I want that understood.”
Nodding, he said, “Completely.” He gestured at the open door, where an angry Orlova was waiting, her arms folded. “You’d better go and talk to her. If you think I’ve given you problems, I don’t think you’ve seen anything yet.”
Rising to her feet, she paused in the hatch, and said, “Thank you. For coming after me. And I’m sorrier than you can know for what I put you and the others through. If I’d known…”
“I know. Get going. Ma’am.”
She smiled, then stepped out onto the deck, walking over to Orlova, who pointed at the open office door, Scott waiting inside, nervously fidgeting by the wall. The door closed and locked behind them, Orlova carefully sitting behind the desk, looking up at her.
“Talk. And I don’t want to hear any crap about security clearance. I think I’ve earned a full and complete explanation about this miserable business, and I’m damn sure that Scott does. She was lucky not to spend the whole mission in solitary, and you did that to her.”
Turning to Scott, Harper said, “I’m so damn sorry, but we both knew it was a risk.” She sighed, then added, “I guess you don’t remember any of it. The memory implant?”
“I have no memory of the last six months. The last thing I recall is getting a message from Commodore Tramiel. For some reason I tried to hijack a shuttle, held a gun on a fellow officer, and tried to sabotage a battlecruiser.” She shook her head. “I just want to understand what happened.”
Nodding, Harper said, “I guess they thought you might join their cause. You did get that message, and admitted yourself that you’d considered accepting, but you passed it along to your commanding officer.” Turning to Orlova, she continued, “Captain Gorski. Who knew enough about what was going on to pass it along to Captain Winter. While Alamo was refitting at Ragnarok, the four of us strung this together.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Malware Blues Page 21