by Scott Rhine
“With a sauce pan and a beet of milk. Let me get my pans.”
“You brought pans with you?” asked Risa.
“I brought all my cooking gear. However, Z bought me a special locking case he insisted I use,” the nurse explained.
“An evidence locker?” asked Herk.
“Oui.”
“You’re a gourmet chef?” asked Red, incredulous.
“It’s a hobby, nothing formal. But I make a good sauce.”
Sojiro laughed. “Z wanted to impress Yvette by taking her out to the best restaurant in Lyon, and it’s run by her uncle.”
“The Cordon Bleu?” Red inquired, looking at the others on the team to see if they thought it was a coincidence.
“Oui.”
“Do you happen to have a clearance?” Red pressed.
Auckland nodded. “She works with families from Interpol HQ and several EU heads of state.”
“Sneaky bastard,” Red muttered.
Taking another sip of her wine to cover her smile, Yvette said, “Speaking of this sneaky person, what did he give you for an extra-credit assignment?”
“You wouldn’t be interested,” Red asserted.
“Try me.”
Shrugging, the girl pulled out her goggles and fed her homework problem to the black data wall. “I guess the information in the exercises is public knowledge. Once you solve it, problem one shows that it takes eight minutes for a missile to get from the enemy launchers to the artifact if they’re armed and ready.
“Problem two demonstrates that, in the best-case scenario, it takes fifteen minutes from the Lagrange point to the artifact with matching velocities. I had to figure it three times because Z kept telling me I come in too hot on the approach and can’t assume gravity.”
“He knew you wouldn’t believe the answer unless you worked it out for yourself,” said Risa.
Herk pointed his beer bottle. “The implied question becomes: how do we get from the L point to the artifact before they kill us?”
Red said, “Park, how much did you say we could get out of the drive modifications you were planning?”
“20 percent.”
“That gets us to twelve minutes. The question is: how do we get that extra four minutes?”
“It’s more than that,” the botanist claimed. “We have to plan to disembark into the artifact before the missile hits. Just landing isn’t good enough.”
Auckland poured himself a drink of the wine in a jelly jar. “Mmm. Sweet.”
Herk shook his head. “Just piling out takes under forty seconds. Plus time to open the artifact.”
Red said, “If you let me out first, I can talk Sirius into letting me inside in under a minute.”
Yvette raised an eyebrow. Sojiro nodded. “If she says she can do something, she can. I’ll help by activating the controls remotely. I need to practice to build up my range.”
“Getting out of the craft, you risk touching the drive fields. Boom,” said Park.
Herk winced. “He’s right. Emergency shut-down drills for the Icarus generator take at least thirty minutes.”
Risa tapped her roommate’s pad, found a schematic for the Half-Pint, and projected it on the screen as well. “If we plant explosives, we can blow the two field generators and propel them out of range.”
“We buy a one-way ticket,” said Auckland. “That’s rugged.”
“After we transmit the data, there’s no reason to shoot at us,” Red reasoned. “A rescue mission can pick us up later.”
“Or we could land Sirius on the moon,” theorized Toby.
“Then we have five minutes to make up,” Red said, resigned to the task. “We just figure out a way to go almost twice as fast.”
“Non,” said Yvette. “The real problem is acceleration. Changing velocity this fast would make you into a crepe. I would put the upper limit at five gs.”
Auckland nodded. “Good catch.”
Risa suggested, “We could wrap everyone in a cocoon of Super-goo to reduce the effects.”
“It’ll slow down the exit even more, but we’ll manage,” Herk agreed.
Everyone was staring at the screen when Zeiss returned. “Ah! Nobody else gets to play with computers until after the meal! You made me shut down.”
“They why did you give us the problem?” demanded Red.
“So you could solve it in time to give design changes to Smith’s team to incorporate into the next prototype.”
“You can do that?” asked the nurse, impressed.
“Sure. We’re going to be the team. I could solve it in a couple minutes if Z would let me,” grumbled Red. “Dr. Marsh said I could do it if Z supervised, and we have all the equipment right here.”
Zeiss enforced the dictum. “Food and conversation first.”
****
Green sent the voicemail, “I vote yes on Yvette. Start without me,” and texted a web link for the fan photos.
The nurse got along well with the team. They chatted as they prepared the meal together. At one point, she asked, “What does Toby cook?”
Risa shook her head. “Nothing, but he always cleans up without a complaint.”
Herk, the target of this comment, protested, “Who carried the picnic table, all the coolers, and those heavy pans?”
“I hate cleaning,” Yvette confessed.
“Me, too,” admitted Zeiss. “That’s why I order pizza when it’s just me. Before we break up into groups, we all need to vote.”
“One more question. I looked at your file. Why did you get divorced?” asked Red.
“That’s kind of personal,” Zeiss interrupted.
Yvette put down her empty glass, and Toby filled it again. “We’re friends now. There’s not much to tell. I was married to a charming medical student who discovered narcotics and lost his license. The student loans were crushing on my salary and still he spent money faster than I could earn it.”
“Sorry,” Red said sheepishly. “Any other questions? All in favor?”
Everyone raised their hand, Red last. Green never returned for the meal.
Zeiss announced, “Mr. Green’s proxy makes it unanimous. She’s in.”
The girl in the flight suit glared at the TA, “You knew this would happen.”
“You object?” asked Zeiss.
“No, damn you. No one could,” Red complained. “She’s perfect.”
“Well, it’s official if Yvette decides she can put up with us.”
“I could not decide otherwise,” replied Yvette. “Mr. Zeiss is paying my salary for the year.”
Red raised an eyebrow.
“It was only fair; your skills are in demand,” Zeiss insisted. “Please don’t let that sway you: the EU has agreed to reimburse me if you pass your first year. The team will help you with your classes regardless.”
Yvette pursed her lips. “If this young lady can do half of what she brags, I will join. But she’ll need to prove this with a demonstration.”
Zeiss held out his hand, “Give me your badge.” Yvette did so, and he swiped it through his pad. “I do this so often, security gave me write access. You’re now Sirius three clearance.”
The nurse furrowed her brow.
He restored the previous diagrams on the fourth wall and then said to Red, “Get something to write with.”
“I need a grease pencil!” Red shouted to the group. Yvette pulled out an eyebrow liner. “That’ll work.”
The girl clipped herself into the monitors that Sojiro had used. “Gather everyone close. I’ll need your brainpower.”
“Herk will need to stand guard in the hall so that no one else wanders into the zone during the experiment,” Zeiss ordered. “We don’t want you to spike.”
“Could I tap you, too, Z? Please?” she batted her eyes. “You want her to join, don’t you?”
He looked embarrassed. “One minute. No more. I’ll need to prepare. Auckland, you’re on monitor duty. If she hits high-gamma, pull the plug. Sojiro, you film the experiment. Yvette, your j
ob is to help her relax and ease into a period of mandatory non-thought afterward. She may have to breathe through some pain.”
“I do this frequently,” the nurse admitted, smirking. “But why?”
“Strenuous mental talent activity releases something like the lactic acid physical exertion does in the muscles. Mira’s going to extend herself and borrow computing power from all of us. It always causes a strain on the neural net of the linker.” Zeiss sat cross-legged on the floor, and the girl stood in front of the problem wall. “Begin in one minute.”
Sojiro nodded and labeled the recording. At the one-minute mark, he said, “Go.”
Red’s tipped her head back and took a deep breath. Her eyes darted around the wall as connections formed. Frantically, she sketched formulae and drew a giant tetrahedron around the space ship. Tensor mechanics matrices flew into existence.
“Thirty second mark, a few blue flickers,” warned Auckland, the doctor at the monitors. He whispered to the nurse. “I’ve never seen activity like this; it’s a mountain range.”
“Young’s constant for steel and density?” Red asked.
Risa reeled off approximations.
“Not good enough,” Red complained, scratching out numbers. “Kevlar?”
“Carbon nanotubes made in space,” Risa suggested, reciting a new set of numbers.
“Fifteen,” said Auckland, counting down.
Red’s borrowed eyebrow pencil blurred so fast, she snapped off the tip. “Lip stick!”
The nurse handed her a tube and Red kept scribbling down the wall and onto the floor.
“One . . . end,” announced Auckland.
Red immediately reclined on the floor, breathing heavily. “Better than I remember!”
“Shh,” insisted Auckland, turning on instrumental music while Yvette massaged her head, shoulders, and neck.
Zeiss opened a green tea and handed it to her. “Drink, don’t think.”
After ten minutes, while Sojiro took still photos of the wall, Zeiss said, “Just one drive makes emergency braking difficult, so Smith put one on each end, like a dumbbell. This does the trick. Because field generators cost about half-a-billion each, we stopped there. Why do you have four, Red?”
Eyes closed, the girl said, “The unused Icarus drive at the front creates a gravity field half the magnitude of the thrust.”
“Anti-gravity?” asked Yvette.
“More like gravity reduction,” Zeiss explained. “Cassavettis proposed a Bucky-ball with a hundred, so you could travel in any direction. Unfortunately, the fields repel. Even two moderate fields require steel to anchor them. A hundred would overcome the molecular cohesion of the ship.”
“That’s why I went with only four,” Red whispered. “It’s still a balanced, ideal solid, but we can make it work.”
“Only two billion?” squeaked Risa.
“They’ll get cheaper with mass-production,” Red declared.
“But two in front still balance the two in back: no gain,” Zeiss pointed out.
Red shook her head. “Only the point in back is active. The other three are buffers. We could accelerate eight times faster. Forty gs would feel like five.”
“Unless one component fails,” Zeiss countered. “Then it’s a spectacular mess.”
Red shrugged. “That’s a problem for the engineers. The goo will protect us for small fluctuations.”
“She did it,” Yvette said in wonder. “She’s going to find a way to land on the artifact. You all are. I’d be a fool to miss this. I’m in.”
Chapter 26 – Setbacks
That night and the next morning, Zeiss made incredible progress on the hunt. Using the pop star’s original photos, he detected several covert messages. He couldn’t crack them yet, but the TA was able to plot who was sending ciphers to where. Finding originals for the more risqué photos was more problematic. He copied each coded message to his desktop as he revealed them. Red-eyed, he showed up ten minutes early to Daniel’s room so he could tell Trina the news. “I’ve pinpointed two enemy hubs: Tasmania and Bangkok. I’m zeroing in on all transmissions to those sites. Lazlo and Merrick were regulars, as were several maintenance workers who’ve since left. I have one active mole I’m tracking—a guard by the name of Carmine.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” the platinum-blonde professor demanded, pulling out her phone. “Taggart, get me a location on Carmine. Now.”
While she waited, Zeiss continued. “The early encryption was much weaker, but the strength increased exponentially a month before I arrived. I’m hoping that by analyzing enough of the earlier messages, I can crack the later ones.”
Explosions rocked the island. The dining room chandelier swayed. Lights flickered. Alarms jangled in the distance. To find out what was happening, Daniel’s consciousness hopped around the island without his body to hold it back.
Trina slid into a set of body armor and smart goggles from the closet. She strapped a pistol to her hip and a commando dagger to her left arm. Opening his eyes, Daniel said, “Fire is pouring from the data storage areas in the underground. People can’t get to the evacuation boats through the smoke.” Then her husband rolled his eyes back and vanished into the chaos again.
Tossing Zeiss a shotgun from the same closet, she ordered, “Put Daniel in the lifeboat, kill anyone who comes through that door.”
“We can gather everyone in the cafeteria. There’s a tunnel . . .”
“I’ll handle the children, but I can only do that if he’s safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he loaded his unresponsive boss to the tiny lifeboat, he saw it was only big enough for two. Zeiss thought about Mira, but he couldn’t bring her here without violating orders. If they did need to evacuate, Trina or he would have to travel with Professor Sorenson. Further, the enemy had security camera access and might be monitoring his position. Trina seemed to think assassination was a possibility. Mira needed to be far away from here, safe. The office in the secret sublevel had a similar escape pod.
He fumbled his pad on and waited for it to respond. Zeiss had an urgent message waiting, but because of the disaster, he had no read access. Desperately, he punched Red’s access code. She answered, “Would you people leave me alone? It’s not even six o’clock yet, for God’s sake.”
“Mira, I need you to do me a board-level favor.” Her first name woke her in a hurry. He told a little white lie. “Go to my lower office and disconnect my computer from the net. There’s been a pretty big distraction and I’m tied up.”
“Sure, Z. On it.”
“Take Sonrisa and weapons. Don’t stop to change. Call me when you arrive.”
He hung up to phone Yvette. She was awake but answered the phone in her native language. In English, he said, “Zeiss. Underground explosions. Go next door to the clinic and help triage.”
“Oui.”
Next, he called Herkemer. “It’s Z. Help with the data storage explosions.”
“Already on it,” said the bomb tech, panting as he ran, “Get Risa—”
“Done.”
“Thanks. Over and out.”
Red rang his pad. “Mission accomplished,” she said, out of breath. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, hand the phone to Risa.”
The Latina replied soon after. “Yeah, Z?”
“Things are crazy. I promised Herk I’d keep you two safe. If anyone comes after you or there’s another explosion, you ladies get in the lifeboat.”
“That’s sweet, Z, but—”
He pushed an override button, cancelling Red’s visitor code for the sublevel door. “You’re locked in for the duration. Sorry.” He disconnected, wincing at the anticipated reaction.
Daniel stirred. “Whales fleeing the sounds. Hurry!” He reached for a stack of white boxes with brown lettering—morphine. Gritting his teeth, the professor triggered his own theta state to block the impending pain from overexertion without the mental buffer the whales provided.
Zeiss fumbled a b
ox open as he voice-dialed Sojiro. The box held an array of glass ampules. The artist opened with a static-filled, “What’s happening?”
“Make the island follow Silver Dancing,” the TA ordered cryptically, but the connection terminated before he could confirm. The pad displayed the symbol for no signal. Of course, the computer storage center was on fire. He’d done as much as he could and more than he’d been authorized to.
He pulled out a single container of morphine. How much should he dose Daniel with? The instructions showed him how to use the injector but not how much. Was it a day’s worth or one shot in the container? “I should’ve looked that up on my pad first,” he told himself. “Now I can’t leave to ask anyone.” He attached the heart monitors first to make sure he didn’t put his boss in a coma. Next, he stalled by propping Daniel’s head up with a pillow and covering him with a blanket. Finding Daniel’s vein and psyching himself up took five minutes. Deciding that too little medicine was better than too much, he applied one-fourth of the contents. The vital signs muted a little but stayed in the normal range. He re-capped the needle to reuse in four hours.
Groggy from almost no sleep the night before, Zeiss crouched in front of the lifeboat door and waited for an attack. No one could help him and he couldn’t aid his friends. The part where the plan ended was always the hardest. That was why his mother had taught him Go: waiting was an acquired skill.
****
Trina returned four hours later, clothes smudged with soot. Her pistol hung limply from her hand, forgotten. She barred the door and started peeling off clothing. Zeiss stood, although his circulation-starved legs protested. “I need to check on—”
“Sit!” she shouted, pointing the gun like a finger. She checked Daniel over and nodded. “You did well. You could’ve used the whole ampule; he has a high tolerance now. But I’m glad you didn’t because I don’t want to have to wean him off the drugs again. Last time, withdrawal was brutal.”
“In the orbital?”
She nodded, holstering the gun. Whispering in Daniel’s ear, she said, “Forever begins today.”
His lids fluttered open. “Headache. The whales came back?”
Trina shook her head. “Our machine-interface wizard wrote a new algorithm to track and predict the movements of our youngest whale, reasoning that the mother wouldn’t be far behind. It’ll save us thousands of gallons of fuel a year.”