Homefall

by Chris Bunch

  Emton blinked in bewilderment. Garvin motioned to Njangu.

  "Clear 'em out, if you would."

  "Big rog, Gaffer." Njangu called his security people, ordered them to get rid of the gawkers.

  "That's what I think it is, isn't it?" Garvin asked an electronics officer.

  "Cats shouldn't be able to scratch through the skins of starships, sir."

  "Careful, mister. Sooner or later you'll be putting the uniform back on, and wiseasseries will be remembered."

  "Sorry, sir." The officer knelt, ran his finger around the tear. "See how it protrudes from the ship's skin just slightly? I'd guess maybe a mag-couple, maybe some kind of ultra-glue was used to stick it on."

  "So somebody snuck up on us," Garvin mused. "Tied this can to our tail, and we've been banging away ever since."

  Garvin took Froude and Ristori aside.

  "You think that's what we've been looking for?"

  "Might well be," Ristori said.

  "So how would it get word back?"

  "Possibly some kind of device like my Ohnce-Bohnce buoys," Froude said, "Or, another way that would work is for some sort of missile to be linked to the sender.

  "Assuming Cayle IV as its origin, which is logical, when we jumped from there, the first missile was launched. It went into N-Space after us, homed on that second signal, which makes it a pretty sophisticated piece of electronics right there, then jumped back out in whatever normal space we'd emerged in.

  "Possibly another missile would then be launched to join it, and that one would leapfrog the first and jump with us when we left the next system. Or else the second missile would replace the first, but that would require the first's fuel and drive to be constantly in danger of being depleted.

  "Each missile, probe, whatever they chose to call it, would signal back to its mate, then that in turn would 'cast a signal until it eventually reached this Bertl.

  "Very sophisticated, beyond my Ohnce-Bohnce so much so that I would doubt the system is original with Cayle IV. Probably provided by the Confederation, or maybe one of the science worlds.

  "In any event, it's something I plan to steal once we get back to Cumbre."

  Njangu had come up and heard most of Froude's theorizing.

  "So there'll be another probe jumping into this system in a time?"

  "Precisely. Which will leave us the thrilling task of finding it, a metal toothpick, in a star system," Froude said. "That could take a while."

  "Like forever," Ristori agreed.

  "Or maybe not a probe," Njangu said. "Maybe a couple of battleships."

  "Why?" Froude said.

  "Let's just say a certain date… and a certain event… back on Cayle IV, have passed," Njangu said.

  "Oh crud," Garvin said, remembering the bomb.

  "I'd be expecting the worst… or else nothing, assuming we got the right people," Njangu said. "But I don't think it'd hurt to put out the Nana boats on the edge of atmosphere, with sensors all a-twinkle.

  "Chaka and his flight suits need some exercise, anyway."

  "Good idea," Garvin said. "Now, let's dissect this pimple and see what we've got, in reality.

  "Make sure the techs work carefully.

  "The bastards might have booby-trapped it, to discourage curiosity."

  It was dusk, near the end of the first dogwatch, and Erik Penwyth was looking forward to his relief. His side hurt, still not healed, and he was hungry.

  The troupers were all inside, most still in the mess tent, and the trampled field around Big Bertha was empty.

  Penwyth caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye. Reflexively, in case this world did turn out to have fangs, he stepped back inside the lock. He picked up a pair of stabilized binocs, looked out again.

  On the edge of the field, where low trees rose, were two figures. He had time enough to see that they were dark-skinned, very hairy, almost fur-bearing, and stood half-erect. He caught a flicker of something at one's neck—a bit of mineral on a thong?

  Then they were gone.

  Penwyth considered the name he'd given the system, the world, grinned wryly.

  Perhaps.

  Or perhaps not.

  * * *

  Five days later, one of the Nana boats reported something.

  Or, rather, three somethings.

  Not probes, but former Confederation battle cruisers.

  Garvin ordered the boats to lie doggo out-atmosphere and wait for orders.

  A few minutes later, Kekri's transceiver blurped into life. Njangu was all ready for that.

  Several messages were already encoded-—not quite the cipher built into the machine, but something just a bit off. The static machine also would confuse the issue. Plus the data being transmitted from Kekri's transceiver to the battle cruisers was the engineering specifications for Big Bertha's primary drive, in excruciating detail.

  That would slow the code technicians aboard the cruisers down for a while.

  " 'Kay," Garvin reported to his war council. "Since this is the first time they've wanted data from this transceiver, plus something else that happened recently on Cayle IV, it's pretty obvious this is where the hand gets played out."

  He smiled grimly.

  "I'm very damned tired of being kicked around and running."

  The three aksai, with Dill, Boursier, and Alikhan prone in the flight pods, floated out of Big Bertha's cargo area, then slowly climbed, through drizzle and heavy clouds, toward space.

  They didn't do their usual zooming because the secret armories on Big Bertha had been opened, and two ship-killing Goddard missiles, six meters long, 60cm in diameter, hung on the mounts set up back on D-Cumbre, under each wing of the aksai.

  Liskeard hoped the watch aboard the three cruisers might be a little lazy, and, as long as the locator showed the circus ship hadn't moved, they might not be overeager on their radars. That was another reason for the aksai to lift at far less than full drive—the cruisers' proximity sets might be set to shrill if anything closed on them at too high a speed.

  The warships hung in a geosynchronous orbit over Big Bertha, halfway between Eden IV and its single moon.

  The aksai cleared atmosphere, held their orbit until Eden was between them and the cruisers, went to full drive for deep space.

  Close to Eden's moon, they braked and reset their drives, to come back in a high-speed looping orbit directly at the ships.

  Ben Dill watched them close on one of his screens.

  "No challenge, no nothing, just sitting quackers, aw, poor babies," he said, then, into his mike, "Dill One… beginning attack pattern."

  Two mike clicks came from the other aksai, indicating his 'cast had been received.

  He was no more than a thousand kilometers from the cruisers when he activated the Goddard targeting systems. Minutes later, both beeped. Target acquired. He set both for the nearest cruiser.

  "Dill One… closing," he 'cast. "On the high ship, targeted. Launch One… launch Two… breaking off."

  "Alikhan… on the center ship. One is gone… two."

  "Boursier, on the last scrap pile. One fired… the second's gone."

  There was no sign of alarm or alert from the cruisers as the six missiles homed. All impacted, and there was nothing but three perfectly circular balls of flaming gas in space.

  "Big Bertha, this is Mrs. Dill's favorite son. Coming home, with the broomstick tied to the mast… we've got a clean sweep here."

  * * *

  " 'Kay," Garvin said. "Now, if there's no more dick-ing around to be done, let's go on to Centrum."

  "Takeoff within thirty seconds," Liskeard said.

  The locator, and Kekri's transceiver, had been left behind, just in case they held any surprises.

  The circus ship lifted away, vanished.

  Two days later, the two primates Erik Penwyth had seen found the courage to approach these strange objects.

  The one wearing a bit of mica on a string of gut chanced touching the transceiver.

&nb
sp; It beeped at her.

  She yelped, and, followed by her mate, ran for the trees, never again to come near this cursed place.

  Chapter 26

  Unknown System

  The bridge was crowded as Njangu and Garvin slid in, finding a place away from the command console.

  N-Space still swirled about them.

  Njangu saw a communications officer sniff the air. He could have told the man what the smell was—the stink of fear, waiting to see what would happen when Big Bertha entered this booby-trapped system, but didn't. The virgin would figure it out in a few moments all by himself.

  Garvin caught Liskeard's eye, nodded a go-ahead.

  "You have the security data from Cayle?" Liskeard asked an officer sitting in front of a screen.

  "Affirm. Up and running."

  Liskeard tapped a talker.

  "All stations, battle ready," he ordered. "All compartments seal, report integrity."

  Liskeard listened to the clatter of returns, and an officer said:

  "All compartments sealed, sir."

  "Stand by to exit hyperspace… on my signal… now!"

  Screens unblurred, and Big Bertha was in normal space, hanging not far from a ringed planet.

  "Receiving signal on watch frequency… N… N… N… origin one of two moons at two-A, main screen."

  "Respond with R… R… R…" response ordered.

  correc-

  "Receiving signal… C-nine-eight-A-R-two."

  "Wait… wait… send challenge response of four-five-I-X-two-two.''

  "Signal sent… waiting… waiting… of C… C… C…"

  "That's clearance."

  There was a moment of relaxation.

  "Stand by for next jump," Liskeard "Twenty seconds…"

  "I have activity from planetary surface."

  "ID it!"

  "Ships… several ships… taking off . . tion. Missiles."

  "Ship targeted."

  "Activate ECM."

  "Activated, sir. Trying to acquire control."

  "Twelve seconds to hyperspace."

  "Missiles will be in range in… thirty seconds. I have ten bogies homing. Correction. Four missiles jumped into N-Space… no proximity report… six missiles remaining in normal space… proximity twenty-four seconds."

  "Six seconds to hyperspace."

  "Four missiles exited N-Space homing…"

  "Two missiles taken over… diverted…"

  "Three seconds to hyperspace."

  "Single missile homing… seconds…"

  "Jump!"

  The world went swirly.

  "Now, if that goddamned missile has lost us…"

  Silence for some seconds.

  "We lost it."

  "Whew."

  "Where the hell did that missile launch come from and why?" Liskeard demanded. "I thought we had all their security codes."

  . . homing… three… three impact in four

  "I thought so, too," Garvin said. "Maybe a system bought from another supplier?"

  "Maybe… or maybe those goddamned missiles got a little rusty around the ears and got independent?"

  "One more jump, and then Centrum."

  "Let's get through that one more first."

  "Silence on the bridge except for business!" Njangu noticed the smell was stronger.

  Unknown System

  The screen showed a tight cluster of planets close to the sun, a scatter of ice giants "on the fringes. The nav point had brought them out in a band of asteroids. Eyes scanned screens, then, in a jumble: "I have metallic objects homing on us!"

  "Indicated asteroid has made a launch… count of twenty-seven missiles…"

  "I have inbound ships from inner worlds… guesstimate robot interceptors…"

  "Unknown objects homing on ship… ID as possible kinetic satellites… count thirty-five…"

  "Metallic objects probably active mines… send countersignal three-four-Q-Q-Q-three…"

  "Roger three-four-Q-Q-Q-three…" Missile diversion send six-six-seven-eight-nine-nine-zero."

  "Sending six-six-seven-eight-nine-nine-zero."

  "Interceptors disappeared into N-Space."

  "Interceptor code single word WAVEN."

  "Roger WAVEN, waiting for reappearance…"

  "Mines have aborted, countersignal worked."

  "Inbound missiles self-destructed."

  "Interceptors returned to real space, sending WAVEN… WAVEN… no effect…"

  "ECM attempt to lock on interceptors… no apparent effect."

  "Countermissiles stand by for launch, on command," Liskeard ordered.

  "Interceptors returned to N-Space, sent signal of RAFET, I say again, RAFET."

  "RAFET approved acknowledgment of challenge response. They've gone back home."

  "Anything else out there trying to eat us alive?"

  Silence, then a storm of negatives.

  "Seven minutes to next launch," Liskeard said. "Don't relax."

  Capella

  "Stand by for reentry," Liskeard ordered. "If they've got anything that'll come after us, let's try to get a jump on 'em. That last was a little bit close for me.

  "Four… two… we're out!"

  They entered a system with a medium main sequence sun, five planets within habitable range, one too close in, three farther out.

  "Capella," somebody breathed. Garvin thought it might be him. . "Anything?"

  A string of negatives.

  "There's got to be something out there standing guard," Liskeard said.

  "Maybe they're saving their surprises for when we're on the ground," Njangu said.

  His throat was very dry.

  Chapter 27

  Capella/Centrum

  Njangu's worries didn't last long.

  As they closed on Centrum, the com officer made the standard arrival notice/request for landing instructions on one of the watch frequencies.

  It was as if he provided a reveille call.

  A slow reveille call, for it was on the third repetition that Centrum Control snorted awake and informed Big Bertha to take a parking orbit, and stand by for clearancing.

  Froude shuddered a little.

  "Clearancing, eh? Well, whatever happened, we can assume the teachers of Common were the first to go under."

  "I think," Njangu said to Garvin, "you and I had best get flashed up."

  They dressed in their conservative best, but could have taken their time, because it was three ship-hours before the watch frequency came alive, advising the ship Bag Berna to stand by for boarding and inspection.

  The ship approaching them was identified by their Jane's fiche as unknown, which Njangu assumed meant built less than eight years ago, when their latest copy of Jane's had been sent off to the far frontiers.

  "Destroyer class, it appears," Liskeard said. "Zoom me in closer if you can."

  A tech brought up a screen with a realtime visual, zoomed in until the destroyer appeared no more than half a kilometer distant.

  "Interesting," Liskeard went on. "It's spent a lot of time in-atmosphere… not hangared… look at the corrosion on the outer hull. Not drydocked in a while. Not very shipshape, my friends."

  He watched the ship's approach. The destroyer killed its secondary drive and braked into a parallel orbit two thousand meters away from Big Bertha. Mag-couples shot out. One missed, the other clanged against Big Bertha's hull, and winches brought the two ships closer.

  "Sloppy piloting," Liskeard assessed. "I would have horsewhipped myself for something that ground-pounder."

  Space-suited figures swam across emptiness, into Big Bertha's main lock, were cycled into the main hold.

  There were a dozen of them, and, already waiting, were Garvin, Njangu, Monique Lir in spangles, Froude, not in his clown outfit, Alikhan, and Ben Dill in a muscle outfit, very picturesque and harmless.

  The Confederation men and women didn't wait for anything like an atmosphere check, but evidently assumed since most of their greeters looked human,
they must breathe something close to E-normal.

  Helmets were doffed. A man, not much more than a boy, looked around. "Sheesh, what a goddamned big ship," he said, audibly.

  Monique Lir started to frown at this indiscipline, hid her reaction.

  A long-haired woman stepped forward.

  "I'm Haut Fenfer, of the Thermidor. Welcome to the People's Confederation."

  Garvin noted the change in the name.

  "And I'm Garvin Jaansma of Circus Jaansma. These are my staff members."

  "Your homeworld?"

  Garvin decided to answer carefully, and make no mention of Cumbre.

  "Garibaldi."

  "I'm not familiar with that system," Fenfer said, and somebody in the ranks snickered.

  "Your purpose in entering the Confederation?"

  "To entertain the people of Centrum and this system's other worlds," Garvin said.

  Fenfer hesitated. "You'll have to bear with me a bit… you're the first ship I've ever cleared."

  Njangu kept his poker face firmly in place.

  "Did you, uh, have any problems approaching Ca-pella?" she asked.

  "None," Garvin said.

  Fenfer looked perplexed.

  "That's good. Uh, do you have any contraband aboard?"

  "This is the first time we've visited Capella," Garvin said. "What is contraband?"

  Fenfer took a list from a pouch, began reading:

  "Weapons-grade fissionable devices… subversive propaganda… narcotics not permitted by the Confederation…" The list went on. At its end, Garvin shook his head solemnly.

  "None of the above. Except for dangerous animals, which are part of our show, and are always properly caged and watched."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  "I guess the animals won't be a problem," Fenfer said. "Would you object to an inspection?"

  "Of course not. My staff will be happy to escort your people around."

  Fenfer turned to her team.

  "Very well. You have your instructions."

  "Assuming there are no problems," Fenfer said, "I have orders to escort you, Gaffer Jaansma, as commander of this ship, to Dant Romolo, on our fleet's flagship."

  "I would be honored," Garvin said. "Shall we get the inspection out of the way? I don't want to keep Dant Romolo waiting."

  Fenfer passed Monique Lir, gave her a meaningless smile.