War of the Spheres

by B. V. Larson

  “What have you seen, Lt. Jensen?” I asked her.

  “Well… about half an hour ago, our destroyer escort left us.”

  “Our escort? I didn’t realize we had an escort.”

  “This ship has been designated by the military to be a high-value target,” Whitman said. “I don’t know who they think would try to damage us—maybe some kind of rock-rat separatists—but I’ve never heard of piracy this close to Earth.”

  “Okay,” I said, “so we had a destroyer traveling with us, and now they’ve left. What’s so upsetting about that?”

  “Nothing. When we started braking for our final approach to Luna Station, the destroyer kept her velocity steady and left us behind. Now, however, we’ve got a new, unidentified contact on our scopes. Whoever they are, they’re tailing us.”

  I looked at Logan the sensor op, who was staring at me with his arms crossed. “What have you got?” I asked him.

  “Excuse me?” he asked. “You’re in charge here—exactly how?”

  “Good attitude,” I said. “Suspicious to a fault. I’m from the Ministry of Control. Unless you can make a good case for thinking I’m a separatist infiltrator, you should tell me what we’re dealing with.”

  He chewed that over for a moment, then nodded. “All right. At fourteen hundred hours, we isolated a new signal. At first, I thought it was the destroyer. Maybe the captain changed his mind and slowed down with us, right?”

  “But it wasn’t the destroyer?”

  “That’s correct. See, this is a glorified shuttle. We don’t have military spec sensors, nothing really long range and precise. One fleck of metal looks a lot like another when you’re thousands of kilometers downrange, you know? But this contact was moving with too much agility to be space junk…”

  “A raider?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Some kind of ship in that class. Maybe a patrol boat. In any case, we started pinging and asking for ID. We got nothing.”

  “Nothing—”

  “Just a radar signature. A reflection coming off the ship and bouncing back at us.”

  My heart accelerated. Now this was alarming—more alarming than they knew. They were just wary, cautious—I was thinking of full-fledged disaster scenarios.

  I turned my back on the surly sensor op and faced the captain again. He looked up at me from his seat clearly open to suggestions.

  “Captain, we have to take evasive action.”

  “I already announced that intention to the passengers. A few minutes ago—”

  “No,” I said, “not a few minutes ago, not a few minutes from now, either. I’m talking about immediately. Get a call out to that destroyer escort, too. Let’s hope it’s not too late.”

  Chapter 14

  For a second, I thought Whitman was going to give me trouble—but he didn’t. He saw the wisdom in caution, and after one more check on the approaching ship, he went into action.

  “To all passengers, please take your seats and strap in. We’re going to be making some high-G maneuvers starting in ten seconds... Nine…Eight…”

  Complaints began coming in from all over the ship via the comm-system. The pilot wisely ignored them.

  “Jensen—ship wide alarm.”

  Whitman didn’t even bother to look at me, so I got in the jump seat, folded it down and strapped in. It wasn’t anywhere near as secure as the crash seats the crew were tucked into, but it was better than nothing.

  “Two… One… Igniting port side directional jets—on full.”

  The jets flared. You could hear the roar right through the hull, and the whole spacecraft shook.

  Flung against my harness, I felt a moment of sympathy for anyone on the main deck who might have been caught in the restroom by surprise. It felt like we were doing a spin, but that was because at this speed, a lot of thrust had to be applied in order to counter our inertia.

  Quark handled more like a cargo van than a sports car. Like a ponderous bus making a hard turn, we were really feeling the lateral forces, our bodies wanted to hurtle in the same direction they’d been going before. The thrust went on and on.

  “This thing sure doesn’t turn on a dime, does it?” I observed disappointedly.

  “You asked for this, Chief,” Logan said. “At least you’re in a seat. There will be injuries in the main cabin. Everyone couldn’t have gotten into a harness in time.”

  “Better than having us catch a missile and die.”

  Seat straps dug into all of us, resisting the force of the long burn which gradually changed our course. The sensor op turned awkwardly to look at me with open mistrust. “You know something, don’t you Chief Gray? Why don’t you just tell us what that ship is doing out there?”

  “You want to know my real suspicions?”

  “Didn’t I just say that?”

  I hesitated. My theory was just a theory, and it had come to me in a spur of the moment. The idea was so monstrous, so grim, I hadn’t yet dared say it aloud.

  “Spill it, Gray,” Captain Whitman said.

  “All right. I don’t suppose you’ve heard about the aliens that have been attacking our project back on Earth…”

  They looked at one another in confusion.

  “Aliens?” Logan snorted in disbelief, “we heard there were corporate agents, maybe. Saboteurs—”

  “Not just them,” I said. “I’ve dealt with aliens face-to-face. Look, it’s classified on a need-to-know basis—but you need to know.”

  I transferred a few choice video clips to their public computer stack. They brought them up on their forward screen and watched in disbelief.

  “These clips aren’t doctored in any way?” the captain demanded.

  “No sir—that’s the raw stream. If you want confirmation, you can check with Hughes.”

  “Okay,” he said, “let’s say for the moment that I believe you.”

  “Come on, Captain!” Logan scoffed. “How do we know this is legit? These vids could easily be manufactured. Honest-to-God aliens? How the hell would they have gotten inside our Sphere?”

  “That’s why I’m concerned,” I said. “They seem to be capable of trans-dimensional movement.”

  “Trans what?”

  “They can slide through dimensions. I don’t know how, but they can move through solid objects. We’ve theorized that they couldn’t move a spaceship with their tech, but that’s just a guess—and I hope it’s true.”

  “Excuse me, Gray,” Whitman said. “But what the hell are you talking about?”

  Lt. Jensen just watched—taking it all in without choosing sides.

  “I’m talking about them teleporting, or sliding between dimensions, or whatever they do—and getting out here onto our ships. They plagued us down on Earth, trying to keep us from launching. Now that we’re up in space, they haven’t tried anything—until now.”

  “Doesn’t that blow your insane theory right out of the water?” Logan snidely demanded. “You sound a little like you’re a paranoid nut case.”

  “No—I’m being thorough and observant. Also, tolerant. Think about this: enemy commandos with the power I described might be attempting to get aboard this ship right now.”

  “Get to us?” Whitman asked. “But, why?”

  “Because they want our cargo.”

  “Your experimental engine?”

  “Yes,” I said. “They seem to want to steal it, but I’m thinking they might just destroy it if they can’t take it for themselves.”

  “I knew this charter was going to get us into trouble—” Jensen said, finally weighing in. “Too many secrets and last minute changes… and that escort…”

  Logan smirked at us and shook his head. “I don’t know, Captain,” he said. I can’t believe you’re buying into all this. I think he’s got us on a UFO hunt. Maybe he’s just a distraction covering for some bold rock-rat move.”

  “Shut up, Logan. Gray, keep talking—but I hope this story gets better. I’ve got a report of a broken leg in the main cabin. One
more minute of burn, and we’re going to have to cut out the jets.”

  “We’re going to miss the Moon entirely now,” the copilot said, tapping at her computer.

  “I am well-aware, Lieutenant,” Whitman said tersely.

  “So…” I began again, “they don’t seem to be able to jump onto a maneuvering ship—at least not from range. But what if the ship that’s following us wasn’t moving when they jumped aboard? An unsuspecting crew would be a pretty easy target. They might not even have weapons ready. What would you do if hostiles suddenly appeared aboard this ship under your nose?”

  “I think we’re looking at one,” Logan said. He was no longer wearing a smile.

  “Logan,” Captain Whitman said, “I’ve had about enough of your shit. Just do your job. Give me a report. Is that bogey still after us?”

  “Yes, Captain. He hasn’t lost any ground.”

  “Our shadow changed speed and velocity to match our latest maneuver? Is he matching our current course?”

  Logan tapped at his screens for a moment.

  “Come on, Logan!” Whitman complained. I could tell he was feeling the pressure.

  “It looks like they managed to keep up with us…” Logan said at last. “What do you want from me? This old board is outdated equipment.”

  “Gray?” Whitman said, turning a worried face to me. “What’s next? What can they do to us?”

  “That depends on the ship they’ve pirated. So far, we haven’t seen any alien vessels. If it’s one of ours, one they boarded and captured, then it will depend on what that ship can do.”

  We all looked at Logan, who was looking stressed now. “I—I think it’s a patrol boat. The displacement, the reflectivity at this range—they all match. I mean, I could be wrong—”

  “Not good…” Whitman said. “A patrol boat is too fast and maneuverable for us to outrun. She’ll be armed with at least one rack of WASP missiles… Jensen, get on the radio. Ask Luna if they’ve lost contact with any patrol boats. And has that destroyer gotten back to us yet?”

  “Yes,” Jensen said. “They’re requesting confirmation on our escort request. They want to know if this is an emergency or not.”

  “Yes, dammit!”

  Sitting back in my jump seat, I relaxed somewhat. The crew finally seemed convinced, and they were taking action. There was little I could do to help, other than sit here and offer advice, so that’s what I did.

  “Uhhh…” Logan said, “Captain? That contact is catching up.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Assuming it’s a patrol boat… ten… maybe twenty minutes before we’re in they’re missile range.”

  “Do you think they will fire at us?” Jensen asked me soberly.

  “It all depends,” I said. “We can’t be sure they know how to operate our weaponry.”

  “Bullshit,” Logan said. “Whoever is flying that ship knows how to use her weapons. If they can pilot her like a pro, they can push a button.”

  I nodded. I’d been trying to downplay the extreme possibilities, but there was no point any more.

  “Right…” I said. “Okay, we’ll have to assume they can fire at us. But I still don’t think they will. So far, in their various attacks, they were sometimes violent, but they mostly seemed to be trying to gain access to Colonel Hughes’ field generator.”

  “So, they want to steal it?” Lt. Jensen asked. “Not destroy it?”

  Her eyes were big now, full of fear.

  “It seems that way,” I told her, but she didn’t look reassured.

  “Great. Just great,” Logan complained nervously. “Whoever they are, maybe we should hand it over to them. Maybe we should jettison the frigging thing overboard and withdraw. I’ll push it out of an airlock myself if it comes down—”

  The copilot had cut the lateral thrust out by now, so I took this moment to stand up and approach Logan. I grabbed him by the throat.

  “How long do you think we would last,” I said through clenched teeth, “if there are bad guys on that patrol boat, and we give them the only thing that’s keeping them from shooting at us?”

  He flushed and worked his mouth, but no words got past my grip.

  “We’re throwing you off this ship before we jettison that engine. Do you understand me? My mission is to get that thing to the Luna Station, and get it installed—and beside that, quit being an idiot.” I released the man’s throat and let him start coughing.

  “Installed where?” Whitman asked, looking uncomfortably at the gagging sensor op.

  “I don’t know—some kind of ship.”

  He nodded. “All right then. Stand down please, Gray. We’re nervous enough today.”

  Reluctantly, I retreated to my jump seat. Logan looked at me like I’d stolen his cookies, but I ignored him.

  “Okay,” the captain continued, “if they aren’t going to blast us, what will they do?”

  I shrugged. “The situation is new, but it makes sense that they’ll come alongside and jump from their ship to ours.”

  They looked at me in alarm.

  “You think they can do that?”

  “I’m not sure. But if hitting a bulls-eye is a problem due to distance and having a moving target, that targeting solution has to become easier if the ships are close together in space.”

  “Right, and we can’t lose them. Logan, ETA on the destroyer?”

  “They’ve turned—but it’s going to take a while.”

  “Will this pirate catch us before the destroyer can reach them? That’s what I want to know.”

  “Uh… yes,” the copilot said. “I’ve been working on that. Even with our new course and increase in speed—the pirate will reach us first.”

  “Damn…” Whitman said. “We’re going to have to do something crazy, then. Lieutenant, plot a course that turns us back the other way. I want to get closer to Luna, not out to open space.”

  “How close, sir?”

  “I want to be skimming over craters.”

  “Working on it.”

  Getting up again and approaching the control boards, I loomed over Lieutenant Jensen as she crunched numbers and tapped at her screens.

  “What’s the new plan, Captain?”

  “It’s a theory, working off yours, Gray,” he said. “If they have trouble getting a targeting fix on small craft at range, I’m thinking the Moon Colony might serve as a disruption if we’re right on top of it.”

  “In other words, you’re going to buzz the defensive towers on the surface? Activating the cannons at Maraldi Crater instead of trying to dock at the station?”

  “Right. Everyone’s better off if we steer clear of the space station while we’re being chased by this rogue craft. Most of the Moon’s colony is dug deep under the surface near the mines and should be safe. The base in the crater has a few cannons on those towers near the mouth of the compound. We’ll get in real close and see if they’re awake.”

  Approving of the plan, I nodded and told him to call it in to warn them. Then, I went back to my seat. The ship began to thrust hard again, forcing everyone to lurch in their harnesses back in the opposite direction. We were making another harsh course adjustment. This time around, if anything, we were gunning the jets even harder than we had initially.

  I hoped it would be enough.

  Chapter 15

  A few hours later, things were much more intense. The Maraldi mining base was dead ahead. On the scopes, it looked like we were going to crash, or at least plow a fresh furrow in the ancient, crater-riddled surface.

  “What’s our clearance going to be?” the captain demanded for the tenth time.

  Patiently, Lt. Jensen reran the numbers.

  “No changes,” she said. “We’re coasting at about ninety thousand kilometers an hour. We’ll skim by the base at an altitude of sixteen kilometers.”

  “That’s not close enough,” he complained. “Bring her down.”

  “We’ll be risking it all. Any mistakes, and we could plow r
ight into Mons Maraldi—one more meteor slamming into the Moon.”

  Luna Station glinted in the unfiltered sunlight. It hung about ninety kilometers above the base in synchronous orbit. The Maraldi mining base itself was located on the broad flat land inside the Maraldi Crater. I wasn’t surprised there was a neighboring mountain by the same name.

  Whitman weighed the odds for a moment. “Do it anyway,” he said at last.

  “All right,” she said, releasing a long-held breath.

  The ship bumped and nosed downward a fraction. The Moon seemed to grow bigger and brighter up ahead.

  “Is this chrono right?” Whitman asked. “Are we talking nine minutes now?”

  “Rechecked,” Jensen responded. “Everything is correct.” She turned her eyes toward the sensor op.

  Logan shook his head slowly. “The unknown craft is still overtaking us. We’re going to be inside of weapons range just as we make our low pass over the Moon.”

  “Gray,” Whitman said, turning to me. “Are you sure the enemy won’t fire on us?”

  “I doubt they will. They seem Hell-bent on stealing the engine, or information about it—not destroying it. Still, I can’t be sure of their intentions. I’m only projecting from their past behavior.”

  Whitman nodded. “And if they don’t fire, they’ll try to board? To jump from their ship to this one?”

  There was a loud snort from the rear of the cockpit.

  “Captain, we have enough trouble without the dimension-slipping aliens crap,” Logan said. “Gray’s fantasies aren’t possible because of… physics.” He then tapped his temple while making a snide and incredulous face.

  I would have handled Logan differently if he’d been serving on my bridge and acting like this. To me it looked like he was kicking shit on his captain’s boots and getting away with it.

  To my thinking, he should be respecting the position or dealt with, but right now we all had bigger fish to fry.

  Captain Whitman patiently glanced at both of us. “I took the time to talk to Hughes. She was pissed off that Gray had discussed classified info like that—but she confirmed it was a possibility.”

  “I don’t believe it…” Logan threw his hands up in a gesture of capitulation. He turned back to his boards and shut up—a blessing to us all.