Canis who had retreated to his acceleration couch sprang back to the center console and barked enthusiastically.
Surrendering to the interjected opinion Kassad conceded, "Well, my commitment, and Canis obviously."
Canis issued a single loud bark to reinforce the point.
"I appreciate that." Greene said not making it clear if she was speaking of Kassad or Canis. "I guess the only question now is how long will our solar dive keep the Armhamon confused?"
It was the question Kassad's mind had been preoccupied with since before committing to the course of action. "The longer they have to search the more likely they are to find us. Obviously the fastest route out of the system gives them the shortest time to look, but is also the most likely. Farther away gives them more space to cover but they've got military spec sensor software so it's not as huge an advantage as it would have been a few thousand years ago. If things remain as planned then right now we're somewhere inside the sweet spot within a cone of space around the shortest path."
Chapter 13: "Luck and Skill"
"By necessity fleet engagements are highly structured affairs as anything less invariably results in a rout inflicted by the better organized force. It's when you're involved in ship to ship fighting involving no more than a handful of ships that you rely most heavily on the initiative of individual captains... 'initiative' may be too strong a word. The word 'luck' is probably more honestly accurate. Luck and skill."
-Excerpt from a lecture on starship tactics given by Admiral Thomas Brice
Trying to focus on the practical aspects of what they were doing Greene asked, "How long do we have?"
The words of a mentor came back to Kassad that seemed adaptable to the situation at hand. "That depends on if we're lucky and if they’re good. If we're lucky they're not even looking. If they're bad at their job then we could be out here for days before they get a fix on us."
"Do you think we'll be lucky?" Greene asked, concerned that luck and especially their luck was a poor substitute for a good plan.
Never having much use for luck himself except in desperation Kassad optimistically admitted, "We've been very lucky so far."
The concept of an adversary, let alone one who was intent on killing her, was still to alien for her mind to fully accept, but even so Greene asked, "What if they're good?"
"If they're good? About six hours, maybe less." It was only after saying this aloud that Kassad remembered to factor in the potential quality of the Lawship's software. "Probably less." The re-juggled math leaned more heavily on luck but then there still weren't any better alternatives. "I'm still optimistic." Optimism was essential to morale.
Still trying to get her head around their situation Greened kept asking questions, "What happens if they start shooting at us?"
With a noncommittal shrug Kassad answered, "Poor Sabha will get holes poked in her."
Beams of coherent energy were still the preferred tool for ill intent delivered at the distances involved in most activity in space. That energy might take the mundane form of photons, or more of an exotic variety like x-rays, but inevitably all functioned to burn holes in their target. For military vessels burning a hole through them was almost certain to hit systems vital to functioning, but for a civilian craft like Sabha the odds of hitting empty space like cargo hold or crew compartments was significantly greater.
Annoyance was being fueled by a sense of helplessness and frustration into anger, the results of which crept into Greene's voice. "I'm being serious."
"So am I" Kassad said mock defensively. "With the engines cold they don't have much to take aim at. They'll probably aim for center mass which is mostly cargo hold, quarters, the lounge. They might try to aim for the drive systems, but Sabha has been extensively rebuilt so there again they'll probably hit the hold and living spaces."
With a hard edge in her voice Greene replied, "The people we rescued are in the cargo hold."
Kassad lay out the facts as plainly as he could. "We are traveling very fast relative to the Armhamon and just about everything else. Our high gee stellar dive gave us incredible inertia. Landing any hits on us at all will take considerable skill. If that happens we're left with the fact that a military laser will poke a one centimeter hole through just about anything. Odds of the survivors being hit directly are pretty slim, and if that does happen they're already in the automedics, which is the best place to be."
Now trying to determine why Kassad was so intent on being optimistic Greene asked, "Okay, fine, how good do you think the Armhamon crew is?"
Balancing out what little he knew about the Armhamon against his past experience with Lawships Kassad answered, "You have to meet minimum standards to make a berth on a Lawship crew. If the ship goes rogue you have to be really good to avoid being caught and taken down by other Lawships. So my guess is that they are very good indeed. Most of the crew probably served in local military or militia and joined the Lawship crew for a bigger challenge or a bigger payday." After a moment Kassad added, "I've always suspected that most Lawships that go bad do so because playing it straight isn't challenging enough for them."
A twinge of pain shot through Greene's head and she rubbed at her eyes wondering if it were stress or the effects of Lawless space. "We're being hunted by a rogue Lawship that wants us dead crewed by an exceptional group of sociopaths."
With his eyes wide and vacant Kassad shrugged. "Technically I don't know that they're trying to kill us because they went bad. They may have some perfectly legitimate and legal reason for attempting our murder."
Although she might not have had much experience with the Code of Law she was pretty sure of one thing. "There aren't many reasons considered valid for attacking an unarmed ship."
"This is true." Kassad conceded, although in his experience it unfortunately didn't stop people from trying if they thought they could get something out of it.
Going over the situation again in her mind Greene finally shook her head at the convoluted mess she found herself in. "Everything keeps coming back to the research team's work, doesn't it?"
"Unavoidably."
Guilt over pressuring her husband to join the expedition weighed heavily on her already fatigued mind and tears rolled down Greene's face as she wondered aloud, "What did I get you involved in?"
"Pretty sure I got myself involved in this." Kassad quipped.
In tones that clearly conveyed her annoyance Greene said, "I wasn't talking about you."
"I know. I was just trying to lighten the mood."
This time Greene couldn't help but laugh in spite of the pain. "Here, eat something." Greene said, forcing a change of conversation by shoving an emergency meal packet into Kassad's hands.
Half heartedly Kassad tried to pass the packet back to Greene saying, "I'm not hungry."
Firmly pushing Kassad's arms away Greene countered, "Yes you are. Your brain just doesn't know it. There are a lot of things your brain doesn't know."
Gesturing vaguely Kassad stated, "The unknown always outweighs the known by a considerable advantage."
Then in concession to the logic of Greene's suggestion Kassad fumbled with the food package with his blind numb fingers. Freeing the concentrated nutrient bar from its wrapping he immediately bit down on it. There was little taste and even that may have been his imagination, but the textures were so wrong as to be revolting. It took an exercise of will to completely consume the emergency ration, and it did not sit easily in his stomach.
For a time the two sat eating in silence and long minutes ticked by until Kassad's restraint broke. "Sabha, initiate verbal response. Give time to exit jump transit waypoint."
Sabha's voice was set to the default insistent feminine tones that had long ago been identified as commanding the most attention from the average Terrestrial brain. "Two hours and seventeen minutes to transit waypoint."
"Wait," Greene began in her most annoyed tone, "this thing can respond to voice commands? So what was all that teaching me the controls
nonsense?"
"It killed some time." Kassad held up one finger importantly. "There's nothing like a petty frustrating annoyance to take your mind off of all the serious things bothering you that you can't do anything about."
Grumpily Greene replied, "Petty frustrating annoyances. I think that's the real reason that ships have captains."
Truth was that Kassad didn't often use Sabha's voice circuits. When he had in the past he always found himself tweaking and adjusting the voice to get it to sound more like the voice he'd imagined for Sabha in his head the first time he'd seen her. After endless adjustments to pitch and tone he would inevitably switch it back to the default and then turn it off altogether. Kassad didn't need the software generated voice to hear Sabha speak.
"We've made it pretty far without them detecting us." Kassad noted.
Still annoyed Greene speculated bitterly, "Maybe they're just lining up a clean shot."
"I'd like to think they'll do the courtesy of demanding we surrender first." Kassad said a little more hopefully than he wished. "It would at least make the transcript of the confrontation a bit more legal."
Again they were quiet for a while. Each was lost in the thoughts of where they were and what they were doing. Each of their thoughts straying to where they weren't and what they would rather be doing. It was thinking that tended to drive in circles of doubt and certainty.
Eventually Greene determined to break the silence. "I think we'll go visit old Terra." She said, "Since we'll be in the old Milky Way and we haven't had a vacation in forever." Another thought suddenly occurred to her along with unused vacation time. "Assuming we still have jobs to vacation from. It'll be nice to visit our species' cradle."
Immediately Kassad was opposed to the idea. "Don't bother, if you want to see where we got our start go to one of the first colonies. I went to old Terra back before I started University and calling it a tourist trap would be too generous. There's nothing there except historical recreation sites dotted amongst vicious petty tribal, ethnic, and fanatical religious hold outs that haven't changed in… ever. Bad food, ugly people, dilapidated buildings, and an entire economy built around sucking money out of tourists."
Greene knew that at least in part Kassad's response was just an expression of frustration at the situation they found themselves in. "You don't have anything nice to say about anything do you?"
With a shrug Kassad replied, "I said to visit one of the early colonies. They genuinely love their history, they love sharing it with outsiders, and they've more of it preserved than old Terra ever did. The people are open, pleasant, forward looking, and they won't behead you for some minor breech of etiquette."
Determinedly optimistic Greene searched for a reason so support her almost random choice of destinations. "I’d like to see the pyramids."
With a sad smirk Kassad remembered his own disappointing visit to the monuments and explained, "They eroded down to nubs long before the locals finally got around to enclosing them for protection. These days you can only look at the once Great through an inch thick sheet of diamond while standing on a conveyor belt designed to move as many people through the experience as possible." Kassad complained. "Go to one of the original colony worlds. You'll hear about how their ancestors fled the barbarism of the homeworld to build something new; be part of a greater community. You'll see the actual preserved towns where they started, learn about the problems they overcame, and be overwhelmed by their accomplishments. It's an uplifting experience."
Unconvinced Greene inquired, "Nothing good to say about the homeworld?"
There was a long pause as Kassad thought through his visit long ago and past its disappointments. "There are places that are very pretty; mostly parkland. It's where we were evolved to live, and it feels like it when you walk around. Close your eyes and being on the homeworld feels like a freshly tailored suit; it just feels right." It was an inadequate explanation even for Kassad who had never pretended to be a poet. "But then open your eyes and you see that it's still a cradle. The people who stayed behind are those still small enough to fit in it. If you're anything like me when you leave you'll make a too generous donation for whatever colonial ventures are trying to build support."
Hauling out the argument ender Greene countered, "It'll be nicer than Lawless space."
Trumped Kassad could only concede, "I can't argue that." After a moment he added, "I imagine the Law's End bureau of tourism doesn't get many inquiries."
"I have a few complaints for them." Greene agreed and both of them laughed quietly at the idea through their shared pain.
Seeming to chime in on the sentiment Canis exploded into loud barking then bounded out of the cockpit. Through the laughter and tunnel vision Greene noted that Canis moved with practiced grace, leaping from one bulkhead in a slight turn that imparted just enough spin to line himself up for the next leap along the path. It made Greene wondered if Canis had lived his whole life in the variable reality of space.
Before Greene could make an inquiry about Canis' history an alarm blared into life as Sabha's electronic voice announced, "Pressure hull integrity compromised, crew area, automatic sealing in progress." prompting both Greene and Kassad to don their helmets.
Chapter 14: "Under Fire"
"Frankly I think you well-dwellers are just delusional. Radiation, pressure, and gravity form the triad of spacer fears, but those are just as relevant to you down the well as us. Plus you have to worry about atmospheric and geologic catastrophes as well. No thank you. I can tell you in all honesty that I've never had to deal with a tornado or volcano on any ship I've ever crewed."
-Excerpt from interview with veteran spacer Gilles Montague.
Even before his helmet was fully deployed Kassad ordered Sabha, "Divert all internal atmosphere to storage tanks." His hands fumbled across the console to locate the manual environmental controls and work them by memory.
There was no sense in letting any of whatever atmosphere they still carried spill out into space. Worse there was the reality that the pressure of the escaping atmosphere would likely make the breech larger. Explosive decompression was a very real threat to spacecraft hulls if not to terrestrial organisms.
Double checking the seals on her helmet by hand in spite of the indicator lights Greene demanded, "I thought you said we'd have more time? How could they have found us this quickly?"
Actually it wouldn't have surprised Kassad if they'd been spotted immediately after their stellar gambit, but he wasn't about to say so. "The breech may not be from weapons fire. We're traveling at a pretty good clip and anything we hit is going to leave a scratch or dent… or a hole." The idea of what the high speed transit was doing to his beloved ship was a painful one to acknowledge. "Eventually something was going to poke through. I'm expecting Sabha's pressure hull will have to be resurfaced when we're back to civilization one way or another."
Canis bounded back into the cockpit clad in his own pressure suit barked seriously and then bounded out again causing Kassad to smile beneath the obscuring mask of his pressure helmet and comment that, "The Damage Control Officer has the situation in hand."
Allowing herself a small smile of relief Greene asked, "How will we know? How will we know it was just a collision and not an attack?"
"Are sensors showing any ionization?" Kassad asked eagerly pointing almost randomly to the wireframe display. "Generally weapon fire is powerful enough to leave a detectable trail in the trace gases of space." Kassad explained and as Greene scanned the information presented through her increasingly narrow vision Kassad quipped, "Although I guess we'll know for certain if we start taking more hits."
Squinting at the display through one eye and then the other in a vain effort to get a better view Greene reported, "I don't see anything."
In confusion Kassad asked, "You can't see, or there's nothing on the display?"
Canting her head from side to side Greene replied, "I can see… barely, but I'm not seeing what you're describing."
Fo
r a moment Kassad struggled to find the words to describe what he expected to see. "It will look like a faint line of dots intersecting our course in the upper right hand corner navigation track display."
Moving her face as close to the display as possible given her seat's restraints Greene said, "I'm not seeing anything like that."
"Okay, it was just debris then."
"Okay." Greene breathed a sigh of relief as she collapsed back into her chair which gripped at her by design keeping her from simply bouncing back out due to inertia.
Hesitating only for a moment before revealing his concerns to his passenger Kassad said, "Still this is going to make it a lot easier for them to find us."
With a groan of exasperation at their unending streak of bad luck Greene grumbled, "What? Why?"
"We're leaving a trail of vented atmosphere. It's not quite like sending up a flare, but it makes for a bigger target."
"So what does that mean? How much time do we have?"
"I don't know." Kassad admitted and then asked. "How much time until we cross the barrier?"
"Um," Greene squinted at the display with its tiny numbers and symbols so distant in the narrow view her eyes provided, "I think it says one hour and thirty seven minutes."
Running the numbers and odds in his head Kassad concluded, "We might need to make a run for it."
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