Now!
Guided more by instinct than calculation Elena pulled on the controls and twisted the Getsu Fune onto a drastic new heading, the inertia compensators screaming in protest.
The hull began to rattle and buck when it's shields were penetrated by those of the Xenon, and were torn into pieces for good. But the two ships never touched. A giant explosion blossomed silently in her wake as the charging Xenon smashed bow first into the other on her tail.
"Shield generators overloaded. Emergency shutdown initiated."
Elena didn't admit herself a moment of triumph. The gravidar showed the two Terraformers fruitlessly pounding on the Nyana's Fortune's powerful shields had turned their attention to her and would be all over the sluggish earth ship in a matter of minutes. A few, well-aimed salvos from their strong lasers and the unprotected Getsu Fune would be sent to kingdom come.
That must not happen! Elena had not forgotten Admiral Molander's orders. If in danger, return straight to Earth. With Kyle and the X destroyed, she was the only one able to bring back news of the existence of the Commonwealth of Planets and the renewed threat from the Terraformers. She had no choice.
"Marc, prepare the singularity engine for the leap back to Earth. Jump as soon as it's charged. Confirm."
"Confirmed. Jumping in six minutes fourteen seconds"
She checked the gravidar. The Terraformers would reach them shortly before and there was nothing that she could do to escape another confrontation. Her engines were much too weak and her shields no longer operating. Unless… "Marc, can you reverse the emergency shutdown of the shield generators?"
"Negative."
"Not even if all safety procedures are disengaged?"
"I have to point out that this procedure is forbidden."
"But it is basically possible?" She waited with baited breath for his answer.
"Positive."
She continued the question and answer game until she knew the shield generators would most likely turn into useless pieces of molten metal if activated. But before their final collapse they could still generate enough energy for a very weak shield to last from five to fifteen seconds. This and a few daredevil manoeuvres was all Elena had left for defence so it would have to do!
The swelling gravity fields of the charging singularity engine filled the ship with a growing bass rumble Elena felt in the marrow of her bones as much as she heard. These fields would rip an artificial wormhole in the fabric of space-time and the first intimations of the distorted geometry were already making her feel sick in her stomach.
Three minutes. She'd better send a message drone to Argon Prime. In sparse, urgent sentences she outlined her hopeless situation and launched the small missile.
Thirty seconds – the final phase – beyond the point of no return and the rumble of the singularity engine had burgeoned to a roar laden with subsonics. It was terrifying.
The Xenon came into weapons range now and fired their first salvoes at the Getsu Fune that was now engulfed by a rotating corona of blue and white energy discharges.
"Maaaarc! Shield generators on, disregard safety protocols!" She screamed her order through the deafening howl of the singularity engine. She barely heard the on-board computer's confirmation but the shield generator power surged to six percent on the display.
Ten more seconds! By now the Xenon were letting rip with everything they had and the Getsu Fune trembled and shook under the hailstorm of fire as if it was coming apart. The shield generators screeched in an ear-bleeding sign that they were about to fail. The display snapped back to five percent, then three, finally zero. The Getsu Fune shuddered like a mortally wounded bull as the first few bolts scorched the bare hull.
A direct hit lacerated one of the conventional thrusters, sending the tormented ship into an uncontrollable roll. Elena bit her lip when the abrasion hit her unprepared. She tasted blood flowing freely.
Two seconds! A fist of blue fire clutched the wounded freighter as space ripped apart.
One Second.
Jump!
The Getsu Fune fell into the artificial singularity like a boxer walking into an upper cut. A deafening explosion, a stygian dark pierced only the flickering of a dozen electrical fires and the ominous red glow of warning lights, the wounded-beast screech of the over-stretched but still working engines! Strained beyond anything they were ever designed to counter, the inertial dampers almost gave in and the freighter fell through the singularity tunnel shaking like a rollercoaster on a collapsing ride. Intense streams of colours swirled beyond the cockpit transparency, black, white, blue, then black again like the Devil's kaleidoscope. The flight-stick was dead in her hands. Maybe it was Marc or maybe it was just the dumb random luck of misfiring thrusters but the Getsu Fune fell from the fading hues of the jump tunnel into normal space under some semblance of control, blue light strobing the cockpit as the ship rolled. As the dervish whirl slowed to a mere tumbling roll Elena was able to gather her terror-scattered senses enough to take stock of her surroundings.
They confirmed the fear that had pierced her gut like a knife when the mad rainbow of colours in the singularity had given way to an ocean hue. The Getsu Fune had emerged in the outer layers of the atmosphere.
The Getsu Fune wasn't built to land on planets. Sure, she could perform an emergency landing, but she would never again fly afterwards.
Elena wiped the blood from her face and frantically scanned the controls. Most systems were out but the main engine was valiantly attempting to claw the ship back into space and counteract the roll. It failed in the former but succeeded in the latter and the freighter descended stern first on a white-hot pillar of fire.
"Marc – rear camera? Marc?"
The computer did not answer. Elena tested the flight controls again; nothing.
The ship continued to fall, the horizon becoming visible as a cobalt curve, then a blue ocean and finally a huge landmass appeared in the distance. But which continent, which ocean? North America, the Pacific, the Atlantic? She didn't know. Why had the jump failed so badly that she came out right inside the atmosphere? No answer. No time. Perhaps five kilometres, and there was nothing she could do to change the location of the forced landing.
"Marc, Marc - steer towards the land! Not the water!"
"Negative."
"Get me manual flight control!"
"Negative."
"Damn… why, Marc?"
"The attitude control is damaged. Steering impossible."
The voice of the onboard computer was as cold and emotionless as ever, as if he was just a disinterested observer of the unfolding disaster.
Elena frowned. The Getsu Fune would hit the water and immediately sink like a stone. She would have only a few seconds to escape and her only chance to survive the down-drag of the sinking mass would be to be ready in the airlock before it splashed down.
She pushed herself out of the pilot chair, unsteady on her feet in the crosswinds buffeting the falling ship. It felt like the compensators had failed completely. She stumbled through the chaos of debris to the hatch leading to the middle deck and bracing herself, punched the lock control. Another giant's fist slammed into the ship, sending her lurching forward, hitting the heavy metal door with her right shoulder. At that moment the gravity generators gave in and Elena found herself lying on the hatch that had just been facing her. Her weight pushed it open and she fell through, falling two metres onto the opposite wall.
Elena lay stunned on the new floor for a few seconds before attempting to rise to one knee. She failed. Her stomach felt like she was in an express lift decelerating from freefall. Impact could only be seconds away!
She stumbled into the outer airlock, uncoupled the safeties so the hatch could open under water and clutched a guide rail against the bone jarring pounding that threatened to tear the ship apart. A final, violent punch wrenched her from the handhold and she fell to the floor with a force that sent a sharp dagger of pain from her elbow up her arm. Gasping with the shock Elena
hauled herself up, took a deep breath, and hit the switch.
She had known in advance what she was to expect, but the overwhelming amount of water pressing inside was smothering. With desperation she pushed back against the icy flood and when the water pressure equalised in the flooded compartment she catapulted herself from the ship with a powerful kick of her legs.
The whirlpool undertow of the sinking ship threatened to drag her to a shared doom but she fought harder than she had ever fought anything before. Ignoring the pain in her damaged arm, ignoring the burning ache in her bursting lungs she crawled up towards the fading light and then somehow she was free, the bulky silhouette of the Getsu Fune fading from sight, melting with the dark of the ocean beneath. The last of her air dribbled in a long stream of bubbles from her mouth and as she awkwardly crawled towards the surface, her injured arm flapping uselessly, the urge to breathe became almost too powerful to resist. But still she struggled, knowing the nano machines that had let her breath air from water had long since gone inert. Slowly the cold gripped her limbs and the ache in her arm became a searing torture but her will to live was unbroken. Just another fifteen metres, ten! With a final, Herculean effort she broke into bright daylight.
Greedily she gulped precious air deep into her lungs. It tasted clear and fresh, better than any she'd tasted before and life flowed back into her. After a couple of minutes she had recovered enough to tread water and look around.
On the horizon was the grey glimmer of a coastline. Five kilometres, ten? She had complained about the lack of exercise during the last weeks; now she'd get the opportunity to make up for it. She was a strong swimmer, even injured as she was, she was sure she could make it if she took it slow.
But it might not be necessary. There seemed to be a mechanical hum in the breeze and squinting around she made out two boats bouncing through wave crests at speed. And there were people on decks, waving. They seemed to be in a hurry to get to her.
Elena stopped treading water and lay floating on the gentle waves to conserve the last of her energy. And it was then she knew something was wrong. Only now she began registering the taste of the water on her lips, and how it didn't sting when it lapped her wounds. This was not the Atlantic, this was not the Pacific, this was not even Earth.
This was a fresh-water ocean.
CHAPTER 34
One day the sun will rise, warm and bright. It will not be just any sun; it will be the lovely yellow star we all desire deep in our heart. We will be looking into the blue sky of our ancestors and we will feel with every fibre we belong here, that we have found again our place in the universe. Then and only then can our people be at one and leave the adolescence of our kind behind.
Beholder (21,7): Fran Foster
Book of Truth
The old Goner in the Outer World cantina of Our Salvation had very little time to explain to Kyle in the Old Language, – English – the dare-devil manoeuvre, which his people had developed. They had prepared a mock-up of the X that would collide with a captured Xenon fighter. An enormous obliterating flash would distract the Paranid's attention, while an Argon transporter took the X on board unnoticed. Maybe this attempt to deceive would fail but if it succeeded, Kyle was considered dead to the rest of the Commonwealth of Planets and consequently out of danger – at least for the time being. The Goner had just barely time to explain the strategy in a few words before the guards intervened and forcefully removed him from the cantina.
There were a lot of unknown equations in this operation. Or to be exact: only unknowns. Kyle knew only the absolute bare minimum, because the Goner had been pushed away before he could detail rendezvous coordinates and timing. It was also unclear in what sequence things should happen. On Earth, missions would be rehearsed and played through time and again, for months on end, sometimes even years in advance, until everyone mastered their every movement with eyes closed. Here, he had nothing to rely on but his experience, skill and intuition.
Kyle shrugged and watched the Paranid fleet that was dissolving again, less than a hundred metres away from the X. How often had he succeeded in escaping, employing always the same old trick? Four times, five? He didn’t count on this kind of luck to continue for much longer. But what alternatives did he have: none. Well, on the bright side, at least the Paranid had replenished his spacecraft with fuel!
"Incoming transmission." Valerie announced, opening a view field to show one of the Three-Eyes.
"Kulmanckarsat here," he stated tersely. He had to be quite angered not to quote the endless trail of pompous titles the Paranid seemed to drag around with them. "Immediately take your assigned position in the convoy, or we will be forced open fire."
"That would be a pity after all your effort," Kyle replied, "but thanks for the friendly offer. I've just made up my mind and think I'm going to Argon Prime without an escort." He almost cut the connection, but stopped. "Oh, and by the way: ten divided by three is pi, approximately." Grinning he flipped the switch and saw the startled face of the Paranid fade.
"Valerie, put our course on tactical, please."
The flight path of the X was more than just risky. Only a madman would use a ship like his to try and pierce the corona of a sun. But this was the course that promised the most distance between his pursuers. No matter what the Goner had in mind for the coming operation: the more time he could put between himself and the Paranid, the greater margin he'd gain!
He nudged the throttle forward, squeezing every last joule of thrust from the shuttle's straining engines. On a straight course the inertia dampers functioned flawlessly and building on this, the Podkletnov Aggregates generated a fluctuation free gravity field, making for a smooth ride. His head start was not half bad, and so he could afford to simply ignore the Paranid beams and missiles on his back. Contrasting to the many wild evasive gyrations he had flown in the last few days, this trip was rather quiet and without much vibration at all.
Transiting near a sun's corona was not a routine event, even for an experienced pilot like Brennan. In the back of his head he wondered what it would be like to see a solar flare, close up and personal. But then again, maybe not this time, he was pretty certain his weak shields would crumble at the first kiss of one of those solar blowtorches. The gravity of the looming star slowly took a firm hold on the tiny craft, accelerating it on a parabolic arc around its furnace-like mass towards his target jump-gate.
As soon as the fleet and the station had vanished behind the huge sun's horizon, a surprise waited for Kyle. It wasn't the big Argon Transporter near the jump-gate that startled him in amazement; his Gravidar showed something much more interesting!
A small object, travelling at an extreme velocity was even closer to the star than he was, practically skimming its burning corona! And what was more, the ship had almost exactly the same mass as the X and as far as the instruments could tell, the same dimensions.
Suddenly Kyle knew what he was looking at – it was in all probability the mock-up ship the old Goner had been talking of! It was going through hell, literally. Its shields needed to be incredibly strong to survive the fierce temperatures and titanic magnetic fields that close to the blazing fire of the star. It was coming from the opposite direction of Kyle's, using the sun's gravity to get a slingshot effect to further boost its speed. Swing-by they called this, a manoeuvre centuries old, but no one to Kyle's knowledge had ever pulled it off so close, less than three million kilometres, to the surface of a sun.
Without being asked, Valerie projected the course and velocity of the little ship, placing a yellow marker over its position in the Gravidar. It would arrive at the jump-gate only minutes before Kyle did. The velocity it would have attained at this point by its reckless swing-by would be close to that of the X on her arrival at the gate.
"I believe I get it now," Kyle murmured. "Valerie, please give me a table with all the relevant data of the X and that lunatic down there, just to be sure."
The requested information came up on the view field side by
side. Both ships were almost a perfect match in size and shape. Even the exhaust flame indicated a crude M/AM propulsion system. Although the limited sensors of the X could not verify for certain, Kyle would be willing to bet that even the hull composition matched that of the X.
The tiny ship that was now climbing up from the depths of the sun with an amber red glowing hull and enormous velocity had to be unmanned. Kyle recalled that the Goner were going to destroy it to fake his death. Somehow, in all likelihood in cooperation with the Argon, they had managed to produce this mock-up and bring it into this star system. It would be colliding with something after traversing the jump-gate. At the same time this meant, naturally, that the X wasn't meant to go through the gate herself!
The transporter!
The gravidar still showed the blip of the lethargic ship. It was moving with a much lower velocity than necessary and would arrive at the gate only hours after the X's doppelganger. The Argon Transporter was not as large as some of the bulky hulls he'd seen, but it was larger than the Teladi Phoenix and would have no trouble taking his ship onboard. The only question remaining was – how to match relative velocities. Even if the X could turn and brake with its main engine he'd overshoot.
Kyle set Valerie to running scenarios and he settled on one that would bring the X-Shuttle down to a manoeuvrable speed just beyond the gate, able to backtrack to his ride. She calculated the whole thing would take about two hours. There was a risk that someone would spot the manoeuvre even though they were on the other side of the sun but it was a calculated risk. He'd prefer to discuss the plan with the Transporter first but breaking the communications blackout would only worsen the odds.
He did not even want to think that he might have got the wrong end of a very messy stick and the corona-cruising ship below was skimming that fiery hell just for kicks.
Farnham's Legend: The beginning of the X-Universe saga (X Games Book 1) Page 27