Perhaps someone would come up with a decent plan of attack.
Then again, maybe not.
Markos was the one responsible for figuring out how to win the war. None of them had any experience in that. None of them was really a soldier. In either case, they were not going to move the Paladin until Markos was sure where they were headed, why they were headed there, and what they would do when they arrived.
20
The ship no longer resembled the Paladin. Its once-smooth, globular shape was broken up by a ring of Haber ships attached to its hull, surrounding it like a belt at midships. The Haber ships alternately faced forward and aft to give the Paladin added versatility in acceleration in both directions. The computer had pointed out the need as the parameters of their mission became clearer; they would need landing boats, escape boats, fighters, and reconnaissance ships, all of which had to be added to the Paladin’s basic structure. The Haber ships were the right size and were powerful enough individually to out-accelerate the Paladin.
The added acceleration alone would have made the delay caused by modifying the Paladin’s hull worthwhile. They knew nothing about the Hydrans’ ships, so the Paladin’s, improved maneuverability could possibly swing any battle in space their way. Markos looked at it this way: every added advantage was a necessary precaution for survival.
The Old One was extremely helpful when it came time to attach the smaller ships to the hull of the Paladin. His native ability to touch and change made the hull’s atomic structure seem obvious. He taught the crew which electrons to move and which ones to absorb to make the attachment sturdy enough to withstand the tremendous stress and yet be reversible in an instant if they needed to free one of the ships as a fighter. They improvised nonpressurized airlocks between each ship and the Paladin to maintain the big ship’s integrity.
The most difficult part of the modification proved to be the process of tying in the controls from each wedge-shaped ship to the Paladin’s bridge. They tried running the control circuits directly through the hull but found they were spending far too much time insulating one molecular layer from another. Without the insulation the system would have grounded out and been worthless.
De Sola hit upon a workable solution—using existing wiring, that of the life-support systems. He rerouted and doubled the wiring’s function, then created a switching device on the bridge. Once on the bridge, the circuits were divided so that life support and systems analysis went to one control panel, while the engine controls and monitors went to a different control panel.
Initially only one wedge-shaped ship had any armament. They duplicated lasers and field nullifiers in each of the remaining seven ships and added a full complement of weapons to the Paladin just to be safe. The weapons controls were tied into another control panel on the Paladin’s bridge.
The weapons controls had an override switch and duplicate controls in the command chair.
With the Paladin as the mother ship, and the eight wedge-shaped Haber ships as its scouts, Markos thought they had enough of a chance to justify risking everyone’s life.
“We’re ready to head out,” Straka said.
Markos nodded, barely listening. He stood on the bridge, eyes fixed on the slowly turning Aurianta. The planet’s beauty made him long for its surface, for home. He hated the role he was stuck in, the responsibility thrust onto his shoulders. He would have given anything to be able to return to Peace, to his house there, to spend the rest of his days in quiet meditation. Seeing the planet from this distance only made the feelings and desires stronger.
“Markos? We’re ready,” Straka repeated.
Markos shook his head and forced himself to look away from Aurianta. “Fine,” he said.
“Not quite. The Old One wants to come,” Straka said. “And so does Markatens.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“They don’t want to go back to the surface. The Old One says that you owe him, that his life should have been over long ago. He says he’s broken so many taboos, nothing matters anymore except seeing this through to the end.”
Markos knew there’d be no convincing the Old One to stay behind, and he lost a little more enthusiasm for his position. He sank into the command chair and stared into the black area of space directly before him.
“I’m sure he knows the risks,” Markos said, thinking aloud, “though they mean nothing to him. I wish he’d be content to …” But no, the Old One had been changed by his continuous contact with Markos, by Markos’s constant talk of reponsibility and action. There was no way the Old One would go home and meditate his way to death. Not anymore.
“Content to what?” Straka asked.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. Forget it.” He sat silently for a few moments, then looked at Straka. “Markatens is as committed to going, I suppose?”
“No question,” Straka said, her eyes leaking a little red. “They’re both in the rec room, in a meditative state. Jackson got a little angry at their lack of cooperation and tried to pick up Markatens. Seems they’ve bonded themselves to the deck.”
Markos laughed, struck by the absurdity of the scene he imagined. Straka’s eyes betrayed the shock she felt on hearing Markos’s twisted voice laughing.
“All right. If they’re so set on coming along, I see no point in forcing them to stay. They might actually be able to help,” Markos said. “Tell everyone to prepare for acceleration. We’re ready, and the longer we hang around here, the worse I feel. Get the first watch in here.”
“Right,” Straka said. She walked up the ramp and out of the bridge.
Markos turned to gaze at the planet one last time. It filled most of the lower screens, one of its major continents clearly visible beneath a little scattering of clouds.
It’s better that you all sit down there, going through your life cycles as though nothing were happening, he thought. There’s been enough senseless Haber deaths. Let us teach the Hydrans something for a change. It’s our turn.
McGowen, Martinez, Jackson, and De Sola walked down the ramp and stood near Markos. They looked at Aurianta suspended below their feet, then took their seats, each before a control panel, each facing a different quadrant of space.
Silently they manipulated the dials and controls set into their panels, double-checking all shipboard systems. McGowen sat before the weapons controls, bringing the weapons up to full power for a sustained test. Jackson was busy getting feedback from the engineering systems, checking the Paladin’s ability to get her engines back into operation before applying any order to fire. Martinez played with the navigational computer, punching in different courses, testing it to see if the plotted course would fling them into a star. De Sola checked the life-support systems, ensuring the integrity of the hull, seeing that all systems were in proper working order.
“Gentlemen,” Markos said, “before we leave this sector of space—”
“One minute,” Martinez interrupted.
Markos waited until Martinez was ready, until his last test was done. When Martinez turned and nodded toward Markos, he continued. “As I was saying, I wanted to thank each of you for giving the Habers a chance at survival. And for helping Terra.”
“Yeah, right,” Jackson said. “But we’re not doing it as a favor to you, so don’t thank us.”
“Jackson’s right,” McGowen said. “We’re not doing it for you, or for the reward of immortality.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jackson said, his old sparring partner once again come to life. “Then why the hell are we doing this?”
“Because, Jackson, we’re Habers now, too.”
“I’m no Haber,” Jackson said, flashing dark blue and violet. “I just don’t like insects.”
“I share your feelings, Jackson,” Markos said.
“I’m just glad to be able to do something for my brothers,” McGowen said.
“Can we go?” De Sola asked.
“You’re sick, McGowen,” Jackson said. “I’m here against my better judgment.”
“Yeah,” Martinez said, “but you do everything against your better judgment.”
“Funny, Martinez. I see you kept your sense of humor for this suicide mission,” Jackson said. “You’re going to need it.”
“Just like old times,” Markos said. “Are we ready?”
They each flashed red.
“Plot a course for Epsilon Scorpio,” Markos told Martinez. “If it isn’t already occupied by Hydrans, it should be next in line.”
“Epsilon Scorpio,” Martinez said, entering it into the navigational computer. “K-2, planetary bodies unknown,” he said, reading the output. “You sure it has a planet?”
Markos flashed red. “Last we looked, it was Haber owned and occupied.”
Martinez updated the data on Epsilon Scorpio. “Distance: 17 parsecs in tau, 2 light-years in real. Time of journey: approximately four years objective.”
“You didn’t reset that?” Markos asked.
“No. Until we find out just how fast this ball of metal will go, I didn’t see the sense.”
“You should have entered it as an optional program,” Jackson said. “No way it’s going to take four years with four wedges adding acceleration through tau.”
“I know that,” Martinez said.
“Then why didn’t you enter the optional program?”
“What’s the difference, Jackson?” Markos asked.
Jackson sat silently for a moment. “I guess there isn’t any real difference.”
De Sola shook his head. “Don’t worry about him. You know Jackson. He hasn’t changed that much since the old days. We’re used to him like this,” he said.
“Jackson? Want to get us out of here?” Markos asked.
“If it’ll move,” Jackson said jokingly.
Markos bit back the retort. It would take some time to get used to working alongside Jackson again. The others were easy enough to work with, mellowed enough to accept their fates and have some hope for their futures.
“Let’s start off slow and easy,” Markos said. “If there’s some problem, I want to know about it before the stress of acceleration gets too much for the ship to handle.”
“You and me both,” Jackson said.
He punched in quarter speed and the ship began to accelerate. Markos wanted to watch Aurianta shrink in size as they moved away from it, but he needed to monitor the four crewmen as well as his own controls. They all seemed to be doing a competent job, checking and rechecking systems to ensure they had control of the ship, that the wedge-shaped drones were still attached.
“How’s it look, De Sola?”
“Fine. No problems yet.”
“McGowen?”
“I’ve powered down the weapons just in case we need the reserve power. They held up fine. They should work as long as the circuits aren’t damaged.”
“What’s our course?”
“We’re right on a straight line to our target star,” Martinez said: “0.17 R by 6.21 L. We should be able to translate into tau and come out a few billion miles from Epsilon Scorpio.”
“If the coordinates are accurate,” Markos said.
“They should be accurate. This area wasn’t extensively mapped,” Martinez said, “but NASA 2 did a pretty good job.”
“Let’s just hope it’s good enough.”
The G forces started to push them back into their seats. Combined with the artificial gravity, it was tolerable but not comfortable. Markos knew that under full acceleration they would have to make their bodies hard. Once the Haber ships’ engines kicked in, no one on board would be able to survive unless they were encased in their thickened outer shells.
“De Sola, check with the rec room and see how the others are doing,” Markos said.
“Right,” De Sola said.
De Sola pressed the paging device and said, “Rec room.” The screen in the rec room was activated and showed the rest of the crew, the Old One, and Markatens seated around the cabin, watching the screens.
“Everything all right there?” Markos asked.
“Yes,” Straka reported. “Are we up to full speed?”
“No. Quarter power. We’ll let you know when we’re going to translate.”
“How does it handle?” Straka asked.
Markos shrugged. “Stable enough, though there won’t be any way of knowing until we pour on the power.”
Straka’s eyes seeped red as she nodded.
“We’re going to bring it up to half speed,” Markos said. “Prepare yourselves.”
“Right,” Straka said.
“Okay, De Sola.” De Sola broke the communication link. “Want to give us half power?” Markos asked Jackson.
“Sure,” Jackson said. As soon as he started to enter the speed change, Markos started to make his body hard. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Markos said.
Jackson pressed the panel and Markos felt the minor weight increase, the pushing force making him want to become one with the seat. Compared with what it would have felt like for a human, the G forces were barely noticeable. They would have had to have been in the geltanks by now, surrounded and protected by the life-sustaining liquid.
“Everyone all right?” Markos asked.
The bridge was tinted with red light from their eyes.
“Get the rec room again and tell them to prepare for translation. We’ll power up to three-quarter speed, and if the ship holds together, we’ll go right for full power. Then we’ll effect the translation.”
“Right,” De Sola said. He established contact with Straka and relayed the information.
“Martinez? Jackson? McGowen? Status reports?” Markos asked.
They each reported that everything was holding together and everything looked fine.
“All right, then, Jackson. Let’s get out of here.”
Jackson entered three-quarter speed. They noticed another change in weight and the ship remained in good shape. Markos knew that being overly cautious at this point in their journey was necessary—if something happened to them, the Habers would be little more than a memory, a dead civilization, ground under by the Hydrans expansionist drive. For that matter, Terra would probably end up a casualty too. Or at least a battleground.
“De Sola?” he asked.
“No changes. Everything’s stable.”
“Do it, Jackson,” Markos said.
“Wait! I’m getting a warning signal from the hull,” De Sola said.
Markos slapped his armrest, immediately opening communications throughout the ship. “Straka—there’s a hull problem. You and Markatens get over to—where, De Sola?”
“Haber ship two,” he said.
“Haber ship two, and make sure you’re protected, in case we’ve lost integrity.”
“Right,” Straka said.
“Power down?” Jackson asked.
Markos took a deep breath, raising his energy level. “No. It might just be a monitor malfunction.”
“I’m checking on that through the backups,” De Sola said.
“We ought to power down,” Jackson said. “Just in case.”
Markos said nothing.
“I’m going to power down,” Jackson said.
“Don’t,” Markos said. Jackson froze, and Markos realized he’d ordered Jackson with enough force to kill a human. As he’d done to Van Pelt. “Wait until we hear from Cathy. What about the systems, De Sola?”
“The backups show everything as being normal. I don’t understand.”
“I’m waiting,” Jackson said. “Let me know when. I’ve entered the change.”
“Good.”
Where the hell was Straka? It wasn’t that far from the rec room to Haber ship two’s junction. If there’d been a hull breach, they would have known about it by now.
“Markos?” Straka’s voice said over the shipboard communication channel.
“Yes, Straka. What’s going on there?”
“Nothing. We can’t see a thing wrong.”
“Lock yourselves onto the hull and
open the hatch. The Haber ship might not be there anymore, so be careful.”
“Right,” Straka said.
“Jackson, get ready to kick in the translators,” Markos ordered.
“What?”
“Not now. I didn’t ask you to kick them in yet. Just get ready.”
“All right,” Jackson said.
“Markos? Straka again.”
“Where are you?”
“On the bridge of the Haber ship. There’s nothing wrong. Anymore.”
“De Sola?” Markos asked.
De Sola flashed red. “Everything shows clear on systems one and two. Backup confirms.”
“What was it, Straka?” Markos asked.
“Just a loose connection at the interface. Nothing to worry about.”
That didn’t sound quite right to him. Something was wrong, and he could tell from Straka’s voice. He could tell Straka didn’t want to talk about it over the intercom, and that could mean only one thing. “Okay, Straka. Close up and meet me in my cabin immediately.”
“Right.”
“Markatens, post yourself at the hatch to Haber ship two.”
“Right,” Markatens said.
Markos slapped the button that closed off the communications channel.
“Before we do anything rash, like entering tau or powering down, I want to let the ship continue on under full power. Let it shake out some bugs. We’ll just keep up this speed. Have we reached full real velocity?”
“Yes,” Jackson said.
“Fine. Keep the engines on for another few minutes, then cut them off. Let’s see how the Paladin does at point 99 light.”
Markos rose from his chair. Moving around was a little difficult, but manageable. “McGowen, take over. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Anything I can help with?” Martinez asked.
“No. Just make sure your equipment is working properly. That goes for all of you.”
“Right.”
“Either someone made a big mistake or someone wants to have his own personal escape boat,” Straka said.
The Eternal Enemy Page 20