He was interrupted by a burst of static from the comm, and a voice saying, "WE'VE IDENTIFIED HIM AS JOHN BANDICUT, A SURVEY DRIVER. WE DON'T KNOW WHAT HE WANTS, BUT WE'RE TRYING TO CONTACT PEOPLE WHO KNOW HIM. HE MAY BE HAVING A PSYCHOTIC BREAKDOWN. BE EXTREMELY CAREFUL IN DEALING WITH HIM!" His breath caught, hearing that; he felt a protest, a denial rising in his throat.
The woman froze with indecision, and Bandicut finally erupted angrily, "You're wasting time! If there's anyone else on this ship, get them off—or you're signing their death warrants! Do you hear me?"
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "There's no one else aboard."
"Good. Call the station!"
"You're—you're—"
Crazy? he almost said, but instead snapped, "DO IT!" His hand traced the air, and the undulating black ball fired a new volley of crackling beams of light.
As she moved toward the comm, her voice was fearful and strained. "You can't just . . . where can you go?"
He opened his mouth, and for a moment pondered how insane this must look. They were in orbit around Triton and Neptune. Where could anyone go from here? He didn't know how to answer her. "Watch it on the holos," he whispered at last, and his voice came out as a threatening hiss. "Now MAKE THAT CALL!"
She fumbled for the comm switch. "Triton Orbital, this is . . . Captain Schroeder. He has—he has—some sort of weapon—bomb—I don't know what."
"EVERYONE AWAY FROM THE SHIP!" Bandicut boomed.
"Everyone away from the ship," she whispered.
"FREE ALL MOORING TETHERS AND CLEAR THE AREA."
"Free all . . . did you copy that?" she croaked.
An incredulous voice answered in the affirmative.
"HAVE SOMEONE READY TO HELP THIS WOMAN TO SAFETY, WHEN SHE LEAVES THE SHIP!"
She looked startled. "Is that all?"
"Yes," he said, more softly. "Now get the hell out of here, captain." When she still hesitated, he raised his voice one last time. "GO!"
She fled from the flight deck.
/// Good work!
Let's get this thing powered up! ///
Bandicut swallowed hard and stared at his finger. The ball of darkness had contracted to a black jewel again. Hesitantly, he removed his gloves and started to put them in his pocket, fearful of dropping the two stones. To his astonishment, both jewels sprang away from the tip of the glove's finger and flew to his wrists, just under the suit cuffs—the white one to his right wrist and the black one to his left. His skin burned as the stones, like sparks, embedded themselves in his flesh just below the hand joint. /Oww!/ The pain subsided slowly. /Jesus, Charlie, what—?/
/// Never mind the stones now.
John—power up! ///
Stunned, but responding to Charlie's urgency, he pulled himself into the pilot's seat and peered at the control board. There were some differences from the panels he knew, but he didn't think he'd have any trouble maneuvering the ship away from the station. He began snapping switches, initiating the computer-controlled launch sequence. /What about that woman? I wonder if we can trust her to leave. Is there a camera in the airlock?/
/// Can we jack in and take a look? ///
The board was designed for both manual and neurolink control. He looked frantically for a headset. Finally he checked the overhead compartments, and two headsets floated out. He snatched one from the air and plugged himself in.
The transformation was abrupt. He felt himself in a hollow, echoing ball surrounded by inputs. He could still see the instruments on the panel, but his attention was focused inward. /There's the launch sequence . . . we have to shortcut some of it, or we'll be here for hours./
/// All I need is a fusion fire in one chamber.
Can you get that much going? ///
/I think so. You find anything on the airlock monitors?/
/// One moment.
Yes, here it is. ///
The quarx showed him an interior shot from near the midships airlock. An angry-looking Captain Schroeder, suited except for her helmet, was studying a panel in the corridor wall. It took him a moment to realize that it was probably an environmental control panel. What was she thinking of?
/Give me an intercom channel—fast./ He felt the connection open, tied to his throat mike. "CAPTAIN, YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT. TOUCH THOSE CONTROLS AND YOU'LL BE TAKING A VERY LONG, ONE-WAY RIDE!" He could feel his voice booming through the ship's passageways. He saw Schroeder stiffen, looking around. She fled into the airlock, fastening her helmet as she went.
/// How's that launch sequence going? ///
/It's coming./ He scanned the checklist, cueing the computer to compress or eliminate everything possible. The ship was fully loaded with isotopic fuels for the engines, and life-support stores registered three-quarters full . . . except the galley, which was only half stocked. /Is that going to be enough?/ he thought worriedly.
/// It'll have to do.
We can't send out for pizza now. ///
He nodded unhappily.
/// We can manage.
As long as we have some food,
we can make more.
John, when can you light this thing off? ///
/In about nine minutes. Chambers are heating now./ He glanced nervously at the external monitors, half expecting to see a platoon of space marines boarding. He saw no one, but the cameras didn't give full coverage, either. /What about a course? Are you doing the navigation in your head?/
/// For now, yes.
We just need to get clear of the station,
for starters.
We can't start the spatial threading
until we're clear. ///
/Uh . . . huh. Are we undocking normally?/
/// I'll augment the thrusters a little.
You can steer normally,
but expect a slight translation forward. ///
/Uh?/
/// You'll see.
Oh, and we have two passengers to pick up.
Be ready with the midships airlock. ///
Puzzled, Bandicut readied the airlock, noting that the captain was clear now, crossing back toward the station airlock. Several other figures were joining her, escorting her in. He didn't have time to ask Charlie about it, because the fusion chambers were approaching critical heat and temperature, and the magnetic pincers were fluctuating just enough to worry him. He didn't like rushing it. But if he lingered, they would never get away.
And, he realized suddenly, they were still tethered.
"Station! Get those tethers freed!" he snapped.
"BANDICUT, STOP NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!" squawked the comm. "WHATEVER'S WRONG, TALK TO US! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL YOURSELF DOING THIS!" There were some rustling sounds, then the voice added, "IF YOU TELL US WHAT YOU WANT, MAYBE WE CAN HELP YOU."
"You can help me by not interfering."
"PLEASE—"
"Cut those tethers!"
"WAIT—BANDICUT—WE'VE GOT SOMEONE HERE WHO WANTS TO TALK TO YOU. WE'RE PATCHING HIM IN NOW."
"Forget it—" he said, but a familiar voice was already booming out of the comm. It was Krackey, from Triton.
"BANDIE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I THOUGHT SOMETHING WAS WRONG, THIS MORNING! THIS IS CRAZY, MAN. THERE'S NO PLACE FOR YOU TO GO!"
"I'm going to save Earth," Bandicut muttered.
"WHAT? SAY AGAIN? BANDIE, IS THIS ANOTHER GODDAMN SILENCE-FUGUE? DAMN IT TO HELL, I KNEW WE SHOULD HAVE TOLD SOMEONE ABOUT THOSE! BANDIE, CALL THIS OFF BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!" Krackey sounded frantic, as if he were about to burst into tears.
Bandicut drew a deep breath. "Krackey, I'm not in fugue, and I'm not crazy. At least I don't think so. I want you to watch my trajectory—all the way—" his voice caught "—across the solar system."
"BANDIE!" Krackey wailed. "THAT'S JUST CRAZY! PLEASE, IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO SHUT DOWN!"
Bandicut grunted. He wanted to turn off the comm, but couldn't bring himself to do it. "Krackey," he said, "talk to Julie Stone, tomorrow! I've explained everything in a letter to her! Abo
ut the alien artifact and everything else. She'll get it tomorrow. Tell her I said it was all right to show it to you." His voice was starting to tremble; he clamped his mouth shut.
"JULIE STONE? ALIEN ARTIFACT? WHAT THE HELL—? WAIT, BANDIE—JUST WAIT A MINUTE—LET ME GET HER PATCHED IN FOR YOU!"
Bandicut shuddered, closing his eyes. He opened them again. "It's too late. I have no time to argue, Krackey. I hope I'll see you again, but if I don't—just trust me." His voice became harsh. "Station, damn it—CUT THOSE LINES! I am about to fire thrusters."
He saw a series of flashes along the station's mooring points, and the cut tether lines began drifting toward the ship. He suddenly realized that Neptune Explorer probably had releases of its own. He searched for the software control, found it, and fired the tethers loose on his end, as well. The lines writhed like snakes in the open space between the ship and station.
"AW, MAN—!" he heard Krackey mutter, then a click as that connection was broken off.
The chambers were ready to fuse hydrogen. He had only to feed it, as soon as they were a safe distance from the station. "Everyone clear. I'm about to fire thrusters."
"BANDICUT, WAIT!" cried a panicked voice. "WE'VE STILL GOT A MAN OUT THERE."
He cursed and held off thruster ignition. "You've got one minute," he warned, checking the monitors. If their man was already aboard, he might be stupidly giving them the time they needed to stop him. He looked up from the controls, mind still mostly in the neurolink—and nearly jumped out of his seat. A man in a spacesuit was hovering directly in front of him, staring in through the maneuvering window. It was Jensen, and he was waving angrily.
"JENSEN, GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!" called the voice from the station.
"NEGATIVE. HE'S GOING TO HAVE TO GO RIGHT THROUGH ME. I DON'T THINK HE'LL DO IT."
"CHRIST, JENSEN—THE MAN'S INSANE!"
"Thirty seconds," Bandicut murmured aloud. He gestured with an angry hook of his thumb, wondering what he would do if Jensen refused to move. He snapped his visor shut, thinking, I don't want to hurt him—but I also don't want him crashing through that window . . .
"BANDICUT, WE'RE TRYING TO GET JULIE STONE PATCHED IN!"
Don't, he whispered silently. Please.
/// Pop the thrusters backward. ///
/Huh?/ Then he realized what the quarx meant. He gave the forward-pointing thrusters a half-second burst. The ship began moving backward, away from the suited figure—and toward the station, stern-first. "TEN SECONDS!" he yelled.
Still, Jensen didn't move clear. He jetted toward the window again.
/// Give me a few joules of power
in fusion chamber four.
ONLY number four! ///
/But Charlie—the station!/ He was going to have to thrust forward in a few seconds to avoid colliding with the station, Jensen or no Jensen.
/// Let me try it.
I won't harm the station. ///
He fed chamber four a tiny squirt of fuel. In the rear monitors, he saw a great bloom of light. The ship began to glide forward, toward Jensen. The entire station behind the ship appeared to be on fire.
"JESUSGODALMIGHTY—!"
The comm circuit was filled with panicked outcries and static.
/What have we just done, Charlie?/
/// Very little. Trust me. ///
In front of the ship, Jensen was turning frantically. He lit his thrusters and fled sideways, away from the ship. Neptune Exlorer continued moving, but the blaze of light died away, and Bandicut took control with the maneuvering thrusters. They were moving not quite parallel to a wing of the station, at close quarters—and closing. He had to fire a burst or they'd collide. Pop. Pop. Pop. The ship stopped closing with the station. In one of the monitors, he saw Jensen tumbling away, caught by a thruster blast. He cursed, but there was nothing he could do except get farther from the station.
/// Wait!
Open the airlock.
Maintain this distance
until we pass that hangar up ahead. ///
Bandicut obeyed, terrified that armed men would leap across into the airlock—even though he knew that they were moving fast enough relative to the station to make that unlikely. He pointed one of the external cameras toward the hangar at the end of the station—and was unnerved to see two small figures spring away from the hangar, into space. They didn't appear human.
/// There they are.
As soon as they're aboard— ///
/Who are they?/ he demanded. /Quit screwing around with me, Charlie!/ The tiny figures were drawing close enough now to see with magnification, and he felt a flutter of astonishment as he recognized them. He'd half expected them to be aliens.
/// Napoleon and Copernicus.
I programmed them to respond to a
priority call from us. ///
/But we didn't send any call—/
/// Yes, we did—
in the datanet, last night.
I didn't want to make a big deal of it.
But they came up on the shuttle with us. ///
/Why?/ Bandicut whispered.
/// Allies.
You never know what we'll need help with.
They're good workers. ///
Bandicut couldn't think what to say. If Charlie had told him about this earlier, he probably would have protested that he didn't need to steal any more property.
/// Okay, they're in.
Let's close the airlock and move away,
before anyone else
decides to come after you. ///
Swallowing, Bandicut gave a long maneuvering burst on the thrusters. The ship passed the hangar, and then the entire station was behind them, slowly receding. /Charlie,/ he asked, painfully aware of the tightness in his chest. /What happened back there, a minute ago—when I lit the fusion chambers?/
/// You mean the light show? ///
/Light show? It looked like we were incinerating the station! What kind of radiation were we throwing back at them?/
/// Visible light only, John.
The stone converted your fusion output,
mostly for dramatic effect—
plus enough spatial translation to slip us forward
through the continuum.
They might have felt some ripple-tremors behind us,
but mostly I expect they just wondered
what the hell happened. ///
Oh, Bandicut thought. /What about Jensen? We hit him with a thruster./
The quarx was silent for a moment.
/// I don't know, John. ///
Bandicut nodded unhappily. He realized that the comm circuit had been turned down to a murmur. Had he unconsciously done that, to avoid distraction?
/// I believe there are some tugs chasing us.
I think it's time we powered up
for the long haul. ///
Bandicut hesitated, reluctant to take the final steps. Before he could respond, he heard a muted yell to him on the comm, and he raised the volume again.
"BANDICUT, ARE YOU LISTENING? WE'VE GOT JULIE STONE PATCHED IN. WILL YOU TALK TO HER?"
His heart seemed to fill his throat. Julie? Now? Please, God, don't make me go through this . . .
"JOHN, THIS IS JULIE!" He could tell at once that she was trying hard not to cry. He closed his eyes, imagining how she must have felt when told what he was doing. "JOHN, PLEASE TALK TO ME!"
Julie, please—what can I say? he whispered soundlessly.
"I'VE READ YOUR LETTER—"
His eyes blinked open. "Julie? You've—read—"
Her voice quickened at his response. "YOUR FRIEND—GORDON KRACKING—BROKE IT OUT OF STORAGE FOR ME TO READ. JOHN, I—I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY, THIS IS CRAZ—IT'S—"
I know . . .
"IT'S . . . INCREDIBLE, IT'S . . . I DON'T KNOW . . ."
"What to say?" he whispered, supplying words to her faltering voice. He tried to make his own voice strong. "Julie, I know what you're thinking," he croaked. He tried again, and this ti
me his voice held. "Julie, every word of that letter is true! The artifact . . . the alien . . . the comet . . . the danger to Earth . . ."
"JOHN, I . . . BELIEVE YOU." Her voice was full of doubt. "BUT YOU CAN'T JUST . . . HIJACK A SHIP!"
His eyes were starting to well with tears. "I can't not do it, Julie! Do you think I want to? I know you can't believe me—not really—not until you find the artifact yourselves."
/// Or until they see what this ship can do— ///
He blinked the tears from his eyes. "Or—the alien tells me—" he said huskily, over the sound of Julie struggling to find words, "until you see what this ship . . . can do . . ."
/// —when we start threading space. ///
". . . when we start threading space."
For a few moments, there was no answer, but several rasps of static—probably the result of someone cutting Julie in and out of the connection while they argued over who should talk to him.
/// We've got to accelerate.
Those tugs are gaining on us. ///
/Yeah./ He gave the thrusters a blast to increase their velocity away from the station. "Julie—?"
"JOHN," Julie called, her voice barely holding together. "IF IT'S REALLY TRUE . . . AND I WANT TO BELIEVE YOU, THAT IT IS . . . CAN'T YOU WAIT JUST A FEW MINUTES LONGER, SO WE CAN TALK? SO YOU CAN EXPLAIN?"
He closed his eyes again, squeezing them shut. No, Julie, I can't. And I'm so sorry, more than I can tell you. He cleared his throat, several times. "Julie, I—I wish I could. But I have to go—now. Please trust me. This must be . . . done. I hope you'll see why." He swallowed with difficulty. "Good . . . bye, Julie."
He shifted his thoughts inward. /Do something, damn it!/
/// Give me a squirt of fuel. ///
He touched a control and watched in the monitor. The station, and the pursuing tugs, receded at an impossible rate. He felt no sense of physical acceleration. His heart had not stopped pounding yet. He wasn't sure it ever would.
/// Okay, that's enough simple translation.
Let's pour it on, John.
We have a long way to go. ///
"JOHN? WHAT'S HAPPENING?" whispered Julie.
Unable to breathe or speak, he opened the flow to chamber four, trusting the quarx to know what he was doing. In the rear monitor, he saw a sunburst of concentric colors expanding outward: white in the center, radiating to blue, to green, yellow, orange, and deep red on the outside. For a few seconds, he couldn't see the station at all. Then the quarx pointed it out—a tiny point of light, vanishing behind the horizon of a shrinking, orange-grey disk of Triton. /Charlie? How are we—?/
The Chaos Chronicles Page 28