by B. V. Larson
“Should I call back the bridge crew, Ensign?” Hansen asked. “They only just went on break, but…”
“They’re pretty far off and moving slowly. I think we have a little time. No need to sound the alarm yet.”
I wanted to give my people a moment to rest, to think we’d escaped—even if we hadn’t yet. Hansen frowned back at his console. I could tell he didn’t approve, but I didn’t much care.
“What about those snowflakes?” Adrienne asked. “I don’t see any.”
“I doubt there will be many in open space,” I replied. “They are only effective inside an enclosed area. They’d be too easy to run away from. And speaking of running…”
“I’ve set a course to orbit the central star in a long circle,” Hansen said. He’d obviously been listening to us. “We can easily keep ahead of them.”
“We need to do more than keep ahead of them,” I said. “We need to find a place where we can lick our wounds and use our factory to improve our situation. Adrienne, could you go to the factory deck and set the system to manufacture more munitions? We’re low.”
“We’re low on supplies, too,” she said. “Do I have permission to cannibalize ship components?”
I glanced at her. Things were bad if we were down to that. “Yes. Start with the deck plates and the bulkheads between the smaller holds. And don’t get carried away. I’ll try to find new supplies for you soon.”
When she’d gone, I stared at the system represented in the holotank. “Where can we go?” I asked myself quietly.
What do you do when surrounded by an implacable enemy? I felt uneasy as any new leader might. As long as we kept moving we were all right, but as soon as we stopped they would close in.
Marvin broke in on the ship-to-ship channel transmitting from Greyhound. He was still tagging behind us.
“There’s a comet cloud at the fringe of this system,” he said into my ear.
“Comet cloud?” I asked, frowning.
He’d obviously been listening in on our bridge chatter, but that was hardly unusual. After all, both our ships had just made a narrow escape and we were still linked up for tactical chat.
Marvin didn’t explain further. I figured he was busy processing all the new data available and still working on the Litho translation, so I adjusted the holotank for an even wider, larger-scale view.
Most star systems had a comet cloud, a mass of hundreds of thousands, even millions of balls of slushy ice and rock orbiting far beyond the outermost planets. In Earth’s solar system, we called this the Oort Cloud. You would think that so many would make for a dense group, but space was large enough that they remained thousands of miles from one another.
But why would Marvin mention the system’s comet cloud? The Lithos could chase us out there as well as anywhere.
Of course, the farther out we went, the longer it would take them to catch us; and we could use comet material in our factory—but I figured there had to be more to Marvin’s suggestion than that.
“Take us on a spiraling course away from the star, avoiding the Lithos,” I said to Hansen. “Right now we need time to gather information and for Marvin to crack the Litho code.”
And time for me to think of something to do next, I thought to myself.
“Done,” said Hansen. With a few taps on the controls and verbal instructions to the brainbox, he set a course then took his hands off the console and stretched wearily in his chair.
“Return the crew to a normal watch schedule,” I said, still staring at the holotank. The bridge was already half-empty, and within minutes Hansen was asleep in his crash chair. I shook my head. With such long duty shifts, I had to expect compromises between rest and readiness. I let him slumber. I could use some sleep myself, but I felt a need to figure out Marvin's interest in the comet cloud.
What might make the comet cloud a safe refuge? Did the Lithos avoid comet clouds? I mentally listed all the things that Lithos seemed to thrive on: dryness, check; vacuum, check; hot sunlight, check. On Tullax 6, where we’d originally encountered them, they were sluggish and primitive. They didn’t fire rock missiles or crystal lasers at us; they just tried to grab us, and we’d gotten away. That was a cold world, a long way from the Panda sun.
The hollow planet we’d found on this side of the ring was hot and had a larger surface area than normal, as it had been blown up like a balloon, sucking in all that radiation and heat from its star. Here in this system, the Lithos had been much more dangerous and active.
There wasn’t much metal in their structures either. Logic would suggest they could become much more efficient if they simply incorporated dense metallic material to perform the tasks it was suited to—carrying electricity, armoring, stiffening structures—all the things everyone else used it for. But maybe the metal would interfere with their bizarre metabolism. The Lithos seemed to be stuck in a kind of high-tech stone age, unable or unwilling to change.
I turned the situation over in my mind. They liked hot, dry, airless, radiated places. Comets were mostly the opposite: wet, cold, full of outgassing and cryo-volcanic activity when exposed to the slightest heat. Some of them contained metallic ores, but there was rarely much in the way of heavy radiation. Marvin was right; they wouldn’t like comets or any cold wet world with an atmosphere. But would that be enough to keep them away? Missiles could still chase us down, even if the ships were unwilling to venture so far. Still, if we had enough time we could devise defenses against those.
I looked for a likely candidate, and after hours of computerized searching, I found one. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Adrienne, looking freshly showered and smelling clean. She was out of her pressure suit—and I liked her that way. I realized I still had my suit on and a wave of fatigue reminded me how long I’d been on my feet.
“You need to rest,” she said, dropping her hand. “The Lithos won’t catch us for days at the earliest.”
“I will, but—” I pointed at my target. “This is where we’re going. It took me quite a while to find a suitable object.”
“That’s a big comet,” she said, tapping on the controls to bring it in closer. “Forty miles wide?”
“We need it big,” I replied. “I want to set down on the far side so if the Lithos send any missiles our way, they'll have to go all the way around it to hit us. Their missiles will have decelerated by the time they get to us. I also want a comet so large that we can find most of what we need there—water, ores, volatile gases. We need a lot of supplies.”
“Why this one in particular?”
“Because it’s also outbound in a long elliptical orbit. All we have to do is land on it and we’ll keep on going away from the Lithos until we decide to come back. I don’t think they like comets or the cold at the edges of star systems. They need heat and radiation.” Once I explained my reasoning, and she tentatively agreed with me.
“I’ll pass this on to the tech team and make sure they keep trying to figure these Lithos out.”
“Thanks for handling the techies,” I said with a warm smile. “That’s a really important job.”
“I still need that warrant.”
I nodded, and then logged her official appointment as a warrant officer with a date of rank preceding Marvin’s. “Now you can go clothes shopping. You need a proper uniform.”
“You just made my day.” Adrienne said. She smiled and touched me on the elbow with concern. “Now, it’s time you went to get some sleep.”
I stopped arguing and trudged down the passageway to my cabin. There I stripped out of my suit but didn’t bother to go to the officers’ showers. On a ship of war like this, only the captain’s stateroom had its own facilities. I needed a beer, but I was too tired to go searching for one. I wasn’t even sure if there were any real beers left aboard. Star Force had never been a dry service, not since my old man liked to knock back a few bottles between battles, but I had no idea of the arrangements aboard this ship. Then I had a thought. There might be a stash
in the wardroom, which was the officers’ mess and social space. With only a few warrant officers left, there ought to be plenty to drink.
That changed my mind. Wearing only boxer shorts, I padded down to the wardroom and rooted around in the small galley until I found a bottle of something German. It went down nicely, so I grabbed three more, downed them all, and then headed back to my cabin with the fifth and sixth in my hands. I was feeling fine again.
On the way I saw Adrienne, or maybe I should say she saw me. She’d caught me by surprise, but I didn’t care. I was already feeling better than I had all day.
“I thought you were asleep,” she said in a slightly scolding tone.
“I always have a drink before bed,” I said. “Do you want to join me?” I waggled my beers at her and grinned.
Adrienne raised an eyebrow. “Nice look,” she said, glancing down at my boxers.
“You too,” I replied. I put a thumb into my waistband and snapped my shorts.
We stared at one another for another second then she suddenly blushed and pushed past me. I was left with her lingering scent and entirely too many distracting thoughts. I told myself it was just a natural reaction to the stress of combat, a well-known phenomenon. My body was thinking about procreation after facing death. Popping open and slugging down the third brew, I marched myself back to my room and collapsed onto my bunk. Fortunately, sleep came soon after.
The next morning I found a factory-fresh ensign’s working uniform made of smart cloth hanging on my door handle. Once showered, I put it on. It fit perfectly after the smart cloth settled in. I liked the crisp high collar and it felt good to wear the symbols of my chosen profession. A military unit wears uniforms to promote cohesiveness, and it needs its leader to look the part.
I headed down the passage to Adrienne’s cabin.
“Thanks, Miss Turnbull, for the uniform,” I said, standing in her doorway.
“Not coming in?” she said, sitting in her spot at the tiny table across from the only chair. She looked sharp in a regulation warrant officer’s uniform. It was the first time I’d seen her that way, and I found that I liked the look.
“We can eat in the wardroom,” I replied. When confusion and hurt crossed her face, I shrugged apologetically. “It’s nothing personal. You’re a warrant officer under my command now. We can’t be spending time much in our cabins together behind closed doors. Bad for morale and discipline. People will assume I favor you because of a special relationship.”
Nodding sharply, she stood up to assume an approximate version of attention. “Thank you, sir. I understand, sir. Will that be all, sir?”
Great, just great. Unlike Olivia, she didn’t understand military service. She thought she could just put a uniform on and it would all work out, but every organization had its rules and principles that were dangerous to violate. Dad seemed to be able to get away with such things back during the freewheeling Macro Wars, but that attitude had bit him in the butt from time to time, as well.
“I’m sorry. I hope you’ll understand eventually,” I said softly and shut the door. I ate by myself in the wardroom and felt lonely for the first time since this ordeal had started. Academy officers always talked about the weight of command, and now I felt it.
I’d started to rely on Adrienne as a friend and confidant. What’s more, I’d given her what she wanted, the rank to go with the job she was doing. Despite all that, she was mad at me because—surprise!—with rank came responsibilities and rules. Thinking about that frustrated me. I couldn’t favor her over others. In fact, I now had to keep her at a distance precisely to stave off any appearance of favoritism.
The whole thing might have been a rookie-commander mistake. I regretted giving her the rank. I considered going right back and talking her into giving it up—but I didn’t. It wasn’t going to make either of us any happier at this point.
Checking the holotank on the bridge, I could see about forty monster Litho ships slowly trailing after us. I wouldn’t call it chasing as they were so slow, but they did have an air of determination about them. They headed in our direction, spreading out as if forming a loose guard. I could see they were attempting to prevent us from doubling back past them. They were trying to drive us away from their worlds. I eyed the outer gas giants and those cold moons full of materials I could use, but they were all too close to the angry, lumbering Lithos.
-18-
I spent the next hour looking over the star system, wishing I knew more about it. At some point I remembered I had more than one ship under my command.
“Marvin,” I radioed. “Is Greyhound in good enough shape to go on a scouting mission?”
“Maybe,” he said with evident reluctance.
“What do you need in order to turn that maybe into a yes?”
“Access to the factory for repairs.”
“I think we can get you fixed up.” It wasn’t enough for everything the battlecruiser needed, but Greyhound was much smaller. “Go ahead and dock.”
I met Marvin at the airlock connection. He had grown, now comprising modular segments of unknown purpose. He looked more like a segmented insect now, and he’d sprouted fresh appendages as well. New cameras of various sorts from microscope sized to large vid size dangled and wormed in the air at the end of snaking stalks. I spotted other input systems such as microphones and radiation detectors as well as more manipulative tentacles than I could easily count. He probably massed over a ton now, though most of his body was so flexible this did not impede him in his octopus-like crawling.
“Hello, Captain Riggs.”
“Still trying to butter me up?”
Several cameras reoriented themselves and took up different positions. “No buttering. Now, please move aside.”
I stepped sideways and slid around him into the airlock.
“What are you doing?” he asked, freezing in place.
“Going aboard Greyhound,” I said pleasantly.
“Why?”
“Marvin, you’re a Star Force officer now. Greyhound is a Star Force ship. I’m your commanding officer. You can ask ‘why,’ but I don’t have to answer you. On the other hand, you do have to move out of my way.”
All his cameras were focused on me now, and I realized that in these close quarters, he could probably rip me limb from limb before anyone could help me. I also realized that I was unarmed. Then again, maybe my enhancements would be enough. I’d never engaged a robot in hand-to-hand combat before.
“I will be happy to escort you around my ship, sir,” Marvin said with sudden cheerfulness, his lumbering body reversing direction.
I was left with nagging suspicions. What might he be trying to hide?
“All right,” I said. “Let’s see what you’ve done with your first command.”
My fears turned out to be well founded. Inside, I found the neat, luxurious passageways and rooms had been turned into chambers from a crazy technologist’s hell. Even without a factory, Marvin had made more modifications than a dozen mad scientists might have thought of in their twisted minds. Cables and pieces of machinery squirmed, attached without apparent rhyme or reason to various surfaces—walls, ceilings, even decking where no human would put anything for fear of tripping.
I sighed loudly. “Marvin, was all this really necessary?”
“Are we speaking philosophically, or…?”
“Let me tell you what is necessary,” I said. “As a Star Force officer, you must perform the minimum modifications in order to complete the mission. But this ship must remain serviceable for humans. And by the way, what happened to all our stuff?” I looked around for my cabin. I’d left some personal things there. I really could use a change of underwear, for instance. Even though the smart cloth I now wore was supposed to obviate the need for it, I liked my boxers.
“I have preserved your personal belongings intact,” Marvin said in an injured tone.
“What about the food and drinks?”
I wanted to save our beer and liquor supply�
��for special occasions, I told myself virtuously. The factory could produce raw drinking alcohol and a low-quality beer, but I could see that an authentic Earth drink might become a real treat as our supply dwindled. Our predicament reminded me of an old sea story where a sailing ship was cut off and had to raid or scavenge for supplies. The most important item to keep in stock was the rum to keep the crew from mutinying. I didn’t think we’d have that kind of discipline problem, but people in combat need an outlet.
“I have kept all consumables in pristine condition,” Marvin replied. “I recall in particular how your father enjoyed fermented beverages. Would you like to inspect the ship’s beer stores, sir?”
That impressed me. Even if Marvin’s consideration was just a way to keep me happy, it had worked. I had to give him credit. “Thank you, I will check it when we’re done. That was very thoughtful. But for now, let’s take a look at the staterooms.”
Marvin froze again, turning his cameras on me. “I would advise against that course of action.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re in an excellent mood, and I wouldn’t wish to spoil it.”
I sighed heavily.
“Just show me how to get to the staterooms,” I said. “There are new crawlspaces and barriers—I can’t even find the central lift.”
“You will not be happy.”
“Come on, Marvin.”
Without another word, he led me through the maze he’d built. I could hardly recognize the inside of the ship anymore. After what seemed like several minutes of wriggling and climbing through passages that were clearly built for Marvin’s new form, but not for mine, we stood before a cabin door.
Opening it, I saw something out of some weird vid. Everything had been scrunched together like a 3D puzzle. The ceiling had been lowered, and the various pieces of furniture now seemed to be stuck to the walls wherever they could fit. There was no room to stand, and even if I’d wanted to I could barely crawl inside to lie down on the bed. On the positive side, it looked like nothing had been damaged permanently.