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Entangelment: The Belt

Page 15

by Gerald M. Kilby


  “Your reaction is understandable. And, it is emotions like these that will feed a war, one we feel is now inevitable.”

  Scott looked at two ships in orbit. The scars of battle could be seen on both, but it was the Martian craft that bore the brunt. Great gouges could be seen along its hull as it drifted in a small cloud of debris. Scott wondered if there might be bodies floating in that mass.

  “So much for mediation. What now?” said Scott.

  “Ah, yes. Well... that’s where you come in.”

  “Me?”

  “I’m afraid so, commander. Around twenty-five minutes ago we received an ultimatum from the Dyrell craft. I think it might be best if you hear it for yourself.” She pointed over at the holo-table.

  The orbital projection flickered off and was replaced with a standard 2D screen projection, showing a simple head and shoulders image. It spoke.

  “This is Commander Sorensen, of the Dyrell ship Enki. I’ll be brief and to the point. You possess what rightfully belongs to us—and we want it back. You will also be aware by now that all other interested parties are... how shall I put it… no longer interested. So, you have two hours to deliver the EPR device back to us. You will utilize the lander from the Hermes to rendezvous with us where we can retrieve the device. Also, it has been requested that Commander, Scott McNabb be the one to pilot the lander since his family has a history of taking from Dyrell Labs things which don’t belong to them. So, it is fitting he should be the one to follow in his father’s footsteps.

  “Failure to comply with this directive will result in the destruction of the facility housing the quantum intelligence, Solomon. To this end, we have already targeted the dome housing your QI. If we have not received the device within two hours of this message, we will destroy it. You have been warned.”

  The message ended, and the screen flickered off.

  “Holy shit,” said Cyrus.

  “Scott, you don’t need to do this.” said Miranda.

  “This is bullshit,” said Steph.

  Scott looked back at Goodchild. “There is no other choice, is there?”

  The grand deacon shook her head. “We are powerless. All our efforts at communication have been met with silence.”

  “Why do you need to bring it to them? Why can’t they just come down here a get it themselves?” said Miranda.

  Solomon’s voice then echoed out around the room. “They can’t. We have detected damage to their shuttle. It is docked on the exterior of the craft and has been hit during the exchange of fire with the Ceres frigate. They can’t land. So, we must go to them.”

  “How much time have we got?”

  “No, Scott. Don’t do it. Don’t give them the satisfaction, let me go instead.” Miranda gripped his arm and pulled him around.

  “Yeah, screw them. We’ll do it. You stay here.” said Cyrus.

  “No. I need to go. It’s me they want.”

  “They’re just trying to humiliate you, Scott,” said Steph.

  “I know. But what choice do we have?” He turned to face Goodchild again.

  “This is not the outcome we had envisaged,” said Goodchild. “In fact, it’s the worst possible outcome.”

  “We shouldn’t have come. All we’ve succeeded in doing is... starting a war,” said Scott.

  “War was coming long before this,” said Goodchild. “If it had not started here, then it would start some place else.”

  “What about the other craft? Will they help?” said Miranda.

  “No. They are too afraid to take on Dyrell and too mistrusting of each other to band together.”

  “So, they will do nothing?”

  Goodchild shook her head. “At best they are simply observers. They will tell the story, nothing more.”

  “Well then, I better get going.”

  “No, wait,” said Cyrus. “You’re not doing this on your own.”

  Scott raised a palm, “I’ll not put any more lives at risk, I need to do this myself.”

  “No way,” said Miranda. “We’re all in this together.”

  He sighed and shook his head slightly. “I really appreciate that, but too many have died already. You’re safer here.”

  “Nonsense, we’re coming with you.” Steph was adamant.

  “No. If you really want to help me, then listen to me. I want to do this alone. This is between me and Dyrell. Let me do what I have to do.”

  The crew were silent for a moment before Miranda spoke. “Okay, if you insist. But be careful and don’t do anything stupid.” She gave a light laugh. “Remember, I won’t be there to protect you.”

  Scott gave a lopsided smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “You best get going, commander,” said Goodchild. “The device will be brought to the landing pad, ready for you to take in onboard your craft.”

  Scott nodded.

  “They’ve given no clear directions after you take off, other than simply to rendezvous with the Dyrell ship. I presume they will give you more detailed instructions once you are on an approach vector.”

  “Okay, I need to go.” He turned to the crew. “Come on. You can walk with me to the landing pad.”

  22

  Change of Plan

  Scott strode down the wide corridor that led to the landing pad airlock. He had donned his EVA suit and carried his helmet under one arm. Regina Goodchild walked beside him, saying nothing. Behind him Steph and Cyrus carried the EPR device, which had been reunited with its container. Miranda had chosen not to come. He was disappointed. Perhaps he had figured her wrong, like a lot of things in his life.

  They arrived at the airlock and hit the button to open the inner door. Two drones now took the container from Steph and Cyrus.

  “Time to go,” said Scott as he held out a hand. Cyrus took it, pulled him in and embraced. “Good luck, buddy.”

  Scott nodded. “Thanks.”

  Steph then wrapped her arms around him.

  “Hey,” said Scott. “I’ll be back.”

  Steph released him. “Sure. I know.” She looked away.

  The drones carried the container into the airlock, and Scott turned to walk in behind them.

  “Wait, stop.”

  He looked back to see Miranda running up the corridor in a full EVA suit, in that long bounding style only possible in low gravity. She charged into the airlock beside him. “You’re not going without me.”

  “But…”

  “No buts, no arguments. I’m coming with you.” She snapped on her helmet and elbowed him. “Better buckle up.”

  He had no choice, and no time to argue with her, so he just gave a smile. “Okay, if you insist.” He got his helmet ready, closed the visor and hit the button to close the inner door.

  They walked out across the pad along with the two drones carrying the container behind. Ahead was the lander, looking small and insignificant against the backdrop of the massive domes on either side and the expanse of space above.

  “Why did you come? You know we probably won’t be coming back,” said Scott.

  “Don’t be such a pessimist. We’re not going down without a fight. Anyway, they’ve nothing to gain by getting rid of us.”

  “Maybe, but don’t you wonder why they’re so keen to have me bring it?”

  “They’re just trying to rub it in, the whole family history thing, that’s all.”

  “Why do you think I took this job? Five years in the backwaters of the Belt? I took it to get away from them. They were chasing me down for family debts. Debts supposedly owed to Dyrell. These are very nasty people.”

  “They don’t care about that now, they just want this stupid thing.” She pointed at the container the drones were carrying.

  “I’m not so sure. The game is up for me, I don’t see a way out of it.”

  “You can’t just lay down and give up, you gotta stand up and fight.”

  “And where did fighting ever get you, Miranda?”

  They stopped at the base of the lander, and
Miranda turned to face him. “I don’t need this shit from you right now, Scott. I’m trying to help you, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m putting my ass on the line here, so let’s just get this done, and go home. Okay?”

  “Sorry. Forget I said that. I… I’m really glad you’re here.”

  Miranda sighed. “Come on, let’s get this thing on board and get moving—before I change my mind.”

  A few moments later they were both strapped into their seats inside the lander cockpit. Miranda busied herself powering up the systems and doing a pre-flight check.

  “So what’s the plan?” she said, as she glanced over at him.

  “We don’t want to get too close to the Dyrell ship. So I suggest we get to within a reasonable distance and shove this container out of the lander into space, in their general direction of course. They can go and pick it up themselves.”

  “Okay, let’s do it, then.”

  The lander’s engines ignited and Miranda gently piloted it up off the pad. Through the main window, Scott could see the massive domes of Europa scroll down and across as the craft lifted and rotated out of the landing area. The had only risen a few hundred meters when the comms bursts to life.

  “Europa craft, this is the Dyrell ship Enki. Please rendezvous at our stern port-side airlock where you can dock and transfer the cargo. Over.”

  Scott was about to transmit a reply when Miranda stopped him. “Wait. That’s not going to work.”

  “I know, not our plan.”

  “No, I don’t mean that. I mean they obviously don’t realize just how old this machine is. It has no universal docking port. We are technically incapable of docking with the Dyrell ship.”

  “Okay, well that solves that problem.” Scott hit the transmit button on the comms desk.

  “Enki, this is Europa Craft. We do not have a universal docking port so are unable to comply. However, we will bring our craft close to your stern port and jettison the cargo. You can pick it up by EVA. Over.”

  There was a momentary pause as Scott and Miranda exchanged glances.

  “This is not acceptable. Please standby and await updated instructions. Out.”

  “I knew it, said Scott. “They won’t be satisfied until they get me onboard that ship.”

  “Screw them. We just stick to our own plan.”

  “How badly do they want me? That’s the question. Badly enough to start taking potshots at Europa if I don’t comply? I would be putting other people at risk. I can’t do that.”

  Miranda said nothing, just glanced over at him with a concerned look on her face.

  “Wait a minute,” said Scott. “That shuttle we took from Neo City, it has a universal docking port?”

  “Well, yeah. But I don’t see how that helps,” said Miranda.

  Scott leaned in again and hit the transmit button.

  “Enki, this is Europa Craft. Change of plan. We are redirecting to the Hermes and transferring cargo onto a shuttle that will be able to dock with your craft. Over.”

  “What the hell are you doing, are you mad?” Miranda reached over and grabbed Scott’s arm.

  “Remember what you said, sometimes you gotta stand up and fight.”

  “Yeah, but this is just playing right into their hands, Scott.”

  “You’re forgetting. That shuttle is not the only thing sitting in the hanger.”

  Miranda gave him a strange look, trying to figure out what he meant. He was surprised she didn’t get it, so he leaned over and put his hand on her’s. “Trust me.”

  “Europa Craft, this is Enki. Your amended plan is acceptable. You have thirty minutes to execute, or we will commence firing on Europa. Out.”

  “Bastards,” said Miranda, before changing flight direction. “I hope to hell you know what you’re doing, Scott. So what’s in the hanger that’s going to help us get out of this one?”

  “High-explosives,” said Scott with a smile. “You did say I needed to stand up and fight.”

  “Of course.” A big smile radiated across her face. “Now you’re talking my kinda language.”

  Scott hit transmit again, but this time it was to contact the Hermes. “Aria, this is Commander McNabb. Can you open the hanger bay doors, we’re coming in. Over.”

  “Ah, Scott. Good to hear your voice. I have been very concerned for you all. Is everyone okay? Over.”

  “Yes, all good. out.”

  Miranda was now pushing the little lander as fast as she dared to get to the Hermes with enough time to make the transfer. Ahead they could see the old space station coming into view, its hanger doors already open.

  “Any ideas on how we’re going to work this?” said Miranda.

  “Once we’re back on board, we can have Aria get the code to open the container from Solomon. Then fill it with explosives and deliver it.”

  “I get that, but how do we get away if we’re docked to the Enki?”

  “We wing it.”

  “Wing it?”

  “Let’s not worry about it now, let’s just get the first part done.”

  Miranda deftly brought the craft in to land on the extended platform. They felt a slight jolt on touch down as clamps swiveled over to secure it in place. The platform started to retract back into the hanger. A moment later the bay doors closed and Scott and Miranda began to unload the container.

  They strapped it down to the floor of the hanger so it wouldn’t float off in the zero-gee environment, and Scott entered the code that Solomon had given them to open it. Miranda already had the container with the explosives open. “Any idea how these work?” She picked out one of the small cylinders.

  “They’re standard issue for asteroid mining.” Scott moved over beside her and lifted out one of the small hand-held remote detonators.

  “There’s a number on the side of each cylinder. Simply tap it into the keypad on the detonator and it’s primed.” He flicked open a red cover on the side. “Once it’s active, press here and… ker-boom.” He looked into the box of explosives. “There’s enough here to turn an M-Class asteroid into ball bearings. So we’ll only need a few to put a great big hole in the Dyrell ship.” He began transferring some of the cylinders over to the container, one-by-one.

  “Okay, that should be more than enough. Let’s get it onboard, and I can arm them en route.”

  They spent a few more minutes getting it transferred onto the shuttle and Scott started arming the detonator as Miranda powered up the craft and ran through the pre-flight checks. “We still don’t have a plan for how to do this and get away.”

  “I was thinking.” Scott looked over at her with a smile. “Weapons would be good. Where are the ones we brought back from Neo City?”

  “I stashed them in Cyrus’s workshop.”

  “I think you should go get them.”

  “Do we have time?”

  “Yes, now go. I still need to prime the rest of these explosives.”

  Miranda hesitated for a beat before rising from her seat and clambering out of the craft. Scott watched her float across the hanger space and into the interior airlock. Once she was out of sight, he sat down in the pilot seat and hit the comms on his headset. “Aria, open the hanger bay doors.”

  “Yes, commander.”

  Scott took a few moments to familiarize himself with the layout of the flight console of the shuttle. He had flown a few of these shuttles before but it was a long time ago, and he was a bit rusty.

  “Aria, extend the platform, please.”

  “Should you not wait for Miranda to return?”

  “Just do it, Aria.”

  “As you wish, commander.”

  He felt a judder as the floor below the craft started to extend outward. His comms burst into life. “Scott, what are you doing?” It was Miranda. She would be unable to enter the hanger now that the bay doors were open and the platform moving.

  “I’m sorry, Miranda. But there is no way out of this. I have to do it alone.”

  “No, Scott, we’re in this together. Don
’t do it.”

  “There’s no need for both of us to die.”

  “Scott.”

  “You were right, Miranda. It’s time for me to stand up and fight back.”

  “Scott, no.”

  He switched the comms unit off and powered away from the Hermes.

  23

  Dyrell

  Scott took it slow, no need to rush. He felt a deep calm envelop him, he knew what he needed to do, and it felt right. He was more certain of this path than any other he had ever embarked on, and with it came a transcendent clarity—a purity that he now understood. It was straight, and true, and final.

  For too long his life had been defined by the actions of others. It had molded him more than he had realized. Central to this, had been him witnessing the utter futility of his father’s battle for truth and justice, which ultimately killed him and instilled in Scott an almost visceral desire to not follow the same failed path. His father’s philosophy had been one of direct confrontation to the point of destruction of almost all that he had held dear. So Scott’s would be the opposite. If his father’s belief was fight, then his would be flight. And so he had run far away from Earth and the ruins of his farther’s intransigence. But, as it turned out, far away was not far enough. Dyrell were not content with the price they had already extracted—they wanted more. So Scott ran further, out to the very edges of the Belt. But even in that remote corner of the solar system he still could not hide from the fickleness of chance. It was as if his destiny was to be forever embroiled with the actions of the past.

  Yet sitting here now, in this shuttle, on this mission, he could not help feeling that there was a little part of his father riding with him, entangled within the quantum device he now carried. It seemed fitting for him to think this way. They were in it together, they would make it all right again, exact a just revenge. Together they would ride this steely chariot into the gates of hell and annihilate all before them in a fireball of retribution.

  The comms burst into life.

  “Scott?”

  “Miranda?” How was she communicating? Then he realized, he had only switched off their suit comms, she was now using ship-to-ship. “You need to get off this channel, they can hear.”

 

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