The station produced power bottles, but there was a lot more to a power bottle than the just the bottle itself. In fact, the bottle was one of the simpler items of an enormously complex assembly that, when operational, surrounded a miniature sun. Multiple lasers, their outputs timed to within millionths of a second, struck core material and heated it to the point where it fused into a miniature sun. The intensely hot plasma inside the bottle never actually touched the bottle itself. Instead, strong magnetic fields encapsulated the reaction. But the energy produced by the plasma had to be directed accurately, safely, and consistently to the various users aboard a ship. Stripping the energy from the miniature sun required a myriad of strong yet delicately tuned receptors inside and outside the bottle.
Power plant assemblies varied from the size of a personal vehicle for a city to the immense, multi-deck power units found aboard the largest ships. Stations tended to specialize in similarly sized power plants. Only three stations produced the largest power plants, and a total of seven plants produced power bottles sufficient to power Chessori capital ships.
Parts came from all over the Empire, in most cases inspected and tested on the planet’s surface before delivery to the station. Upon reaching the station, the parts went into a distribution center and were generally directed to an assembly area within a few days. The bottles themselves and certain key assemblies never joined the normal inventory. Always encased in vacuum, these special items were at all times prevented from entering areas contaminated with atmosphere.
Stor took them on tour over the next several days, exploring every aspect of the station. After exploring the hub, she led them out into one of the half-mile long arms.
“The arms have two levels,” she instructed them. “We are in the pressurized half at the moment. Below us is another level open to vacuum. The two levels come together in a capsule at the end of the arm. Bulkheads, now open, seal the arm at various points before we power up a new bottle. Their purpose is to protect the station in the event of a bottle failure.”
She loaded them onto a sled and set it in motion on a track that wound its way through shiny robotic arms, cables, and an overhead parts delivery system. The slow-moving assembly line stayed generally to their left, and the skin of the station stayed on their right, though at times they found themselves well below or above the assembly line. Processes were almost completely automated, and only the occasional worker was seen, usually inspecting partially completed items.
Stor noticed Lex pointing out an airlock beside the track to Harriman and she stopped the sled. “I can’t envision a scenario where you would enter or leave through one of those, but in case I’m wrong, I will tell you that each section of each arm has an inspection hatch. Emergency suits are stored adjacent to each. The hatches require a code to operate from the inside but not from the outside. We would not want to lock anyone out who needed air in a hurry.”
She led them to a hatch and briefly described its operation, but she did not suit up, not yet. The sled reached the end of the line and stopped before a truly massive air lock.
“We can go no further. Final assembly, check-out, and start-up takes place on the other side of this compartment. It is open to vacuum, and it is here that the two assembly lines merge. We will return to the hub and don suits for the final part of our tour.”
She drove them back, then led them to the suit-up area. Each of them had used suits before, but actual visits to vacuum were rare events for all of them except Stor. Harriman donned a suit, marveling once again at its simplicity and lightness. The suits conformed to whatever body they went over, leaving only a tiny gap between suit and skin for air and temperature control. Stor didn’t take any chances, however. Lex inspected each suit, and Stor followed behind him examining them herself and double-checking air, temperature, and pressure settings. When she reached Harriman, she sensed his uneasiness and took her time.
“Have you ever worn a suit?” she asked.
“Of course I have,” he replied defensively.
She leaned in close, her golden eyes staring into his wide-spaced eyes. “I will say this only once. I demand truth at all times, no exceptions. Your life, my life, and the lives of others might hang in the balance.”
“I demand the same from you. I have worn the suit, but not often.”
“Your fear of this environment is well-placed. Do not stray far from me.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“I am not your mother.”
He nodded. “I stand corrected. This is serious business. I might fear this environment, but fear is something easily controlled. What you need to know is that I respect this environment for what it is. I will not stray any further than necessary.”
She stared into his eyes through the thin membrane of his helmet. “What is it, specifically, that you are looking for?”
“I won’t know until I see it, and I will probably see only what you show me. I look for small things that with a little effort can disrupt larger processes. I’ll want to see the locations of hatches. They might just be inspection hatches, but I don’t care. I might need to come in from the outside someday, or I might need to escape through one. You’re a smart woman, and I’m listening.”
“What is your purpose here? What is your relationship to the Knight?”
“I am her Protector, and I am a mission specialist. Since you volunteered to be a part of our crew, I am your Protector, as well.”
“The Great Cats are Protectors.”
“Ask him.”
She turned to Lex. “This one claims to be a Protector.”
“Do not doubt him, Stor. He is part of my team, we have trained together, and there are times when he leads and I follow. As with all Protectors, there are times when his orders supersede the orders of a Knight and even the Queen.”
She considered his words, then turned back to Harriman and nodded, though her eyes had drawn together in concentration. “You intrigue me. A Protector who is not a Great Cat. Where are you from?”
More and more, he found himself looking at her as a member of his team, and as such, she was becoming his responsibility to protect. And though seriously alien, her natural femininity and unconscious sensuality called to him. He shook his head and brought himself back into focus.
“Atlantis,” he answered, his bright white teeth flashing a smile.
She took a step backward, her jaw dropping in shock. Her reaction didn’t last long. She recovered, saying “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Your actions betray your words. Is there something more I should know?”
“There is not.” She got down to business again, checking the settings on his suit. “Your atmospheric settings are what?”
He recited from memory: 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, 1% argon, and if you want me to stay awake, 0.04% carbon dioxide. Let that one vary much and I’ll be baggage.”
She checked the settings and turned away. He heard her mumbling, “Hmm. Precisely the same as my own.”
She led them through a lock and into a small room. Hard sprays deluged their suits, removing any smallest contaminant. They went through a dryer, then Stor led them into the lower corridor. Since they were going into vacuum, Harriman had expected darkness, but the arm was brightly lit. They were not outside, they were in a corridor similar to the one they had already seen, the only difference being that this one was open to vacuum. They loaded up onto another sled and drove along the assembly line. Robotic arms reached out from the ceiling and sides of the assembly line to perform all manner of procedures, ranging from welding to assembly to testing. Certain assemblies entered sealed compartments where various energies examined joints microscopically, and in some cases at the atomic level, for inconsistencies.
They reached the end. “We can go no farther,” Stor informed them. “Once the bottle passes into the cocoon at the end of the arm, it will never again be touched by living hands. It will undergo extensive testing, then it will be activated.”
“What is the ac
tivation process?” Akurea asked.
“Complex, My Lady,” she said, looking from Akurea to the cocoon. “Intense, powerful lasers bring atomic particles to critical mass. That is the dangerous part of the process. The atomic particles, when excited sufficiently, suddenly fuse to create the miniature sun encapsulated by the bottle.”
“Why is it dangerous?”
“The particles must fuse instantaneously, My Lady. If they do not, they fission, creating a disastrous explosion.”
She blinked. “Hence the long arms?”
“Precisely, My Lady.”
“How often does the process fail?”
“I have never known it to fail, nor to the best of my knowledge has Director Kim experienced a failure. We’ve been doing this for a long time.”
“And you still go to all this trouble?” Akurea asked in amazement.
“We only accept perfection,” Stor lectured. She stared at the three before her who, clearly, did not understand. “Have you ever experienced a ship blowing up?” she asked.
All three of them nodded.
“Hmm. Not the answer I expected,” she said, frowning. “The failure of a plasma bottle, once it is in operation, is catastrophic, but it is a clean failure. The miniature sun instantly extinguishes, and there is no resultant release of radiation. Failure during the activation process before fusion is reached is different: it can create a nasty explosion.”
“So once they’re started up, they can never be shut down?” Harriman asked.
Akurea answered for Stor. “They remain in a constant restart mode,” she said. “The first start-up is the only dangerous time of which I am aware. After that, the lasers constantly heat up varying amounts of core material depending on the demand placed on the system. I have occasionally done cold starts on ships that underwent major repair or modification. There is a specified procedure which, if followed, ensures a proper start.”
“So how long do these engines last?”
“They’re not engines. They supply power to the engines. Theoretically, they last forever. In practice, we replace them every few hundred years.”
“And during that time they go zipping all over the galaxy as much as they want?” Harriman asked in amazement.
Stor approached him a little hesitantly. “Every school kid knows that. Where did you say you were from?”
He looked up into her eyes. “Are we done here?”
“Almost. Answer my question.”
“Uh, I never said I was a good student. I must have been looking out the window when they talked about power plants. I did a lot of that,” he added defensively. Then he dared her. “I suppose you’re one of those who remembers everything they ever heard.”
“Actually, I do,” she said, “including the fact that you’re from Atlantis. I hold three advanced degrees in nuclear science.”
His jaw dropped. “I thought you were in charge of security?”
“How can I secure what I don’t know? I understand every aspect of what goes on here.”
“So what happens if one of these things goes kablooee?” he asked, then hated himself for sounding so stupid.
“The cocoon disintegrates. It takes with it a predictable portion of the arm, but all these portals we’ve gone through are armored. They protect the core of the station.”
His gaze narrowed. “I might have to take one of these stations out from a ship someday. How do I do that?”
She leaned away from him, aghast. “I won’t let you. We’ll find another solution.”
“Fine. I completely support that idea, but if it fails, I might not have a choice. How protected is this station from exterior threat?”
Her eyes closed, then opened again. Her irises had shrunk to tiny pinholes. “I was beginning to like you. I didn’t realize you came without a conscience.”
“How do I do it?” he demanded.
She glared at him. “The station is shielded, strongly shielded, but the shield is dropped while units activate. We want any possible explosion from a start-up malfunction to go outward, not be constricted by a shield. We are vulnerable during that time.”
He held up a hand. “Not we, My Lady. You’re part of us now. They’re vulnerable.”
“I could never . . .”
“It’s only a last resort. Understand this: it’s true that you are threatened with enslavement by the Chessori, but for me and mine, the Chessori are out to make us extinct. I will do whatever is necessary to prevent that. Now that you’re aboard, a lot more doors are open to us. I’m just muscle. You’re our creativity, and the residents of any uncooperative stations are counting on you. I hope you don’t let them down.”
Chapter 17
Akurea was done with this station. She took the knowledge she had gained and visited two more stations as quickly as she could, fast-shipping whenever possible. Both visits went well, though she would have felt better had Ellie been there to Test the station directors. She left the software patch at both stations with instructions that it only be inserted into power bottles destined for Chessori ships.
During transits, Stor spent long hours teaching Akurea and her security team. Station layouts, security procedures and techniques, even the basic manufacturing processes became much more familiar to all of them. They developed contingency plans for as many scenarios as they could, and the Great Cats in particular were well versed in such planning.
Akurea’s initial visit to each station had to be accomplished with minimal security until she garnered a sense of the station’s loyalties. The presence of Great Cats would have been too obvious, so they had to remain behind. Because of that minimal protection, if things went poorly during that first visit, they would likely go downhill quickly.
Her visit to the fourth station tested those plans. The moment she revealed her true identity to the station director, the door to the conference room opened. Four security men with drawn weapons and three Chessori entered. Harriman, his partner, and Stor were ready. Before any shots could be fired, the four security men had been disarmed. Their weapons, now in the hands of Harriman and his partner, were pointed at the three Chessori. The scree started up instantly. Nearly everyone fell to the floor, their bodies thrashing in agony.
The Chessori hadn’t even drawn their weapons, so certain were they of the superiority of the scree. They stared without visible emotion at the Terrans, but they were not foolish enough to draw their weapons. The two Terrans disarmed them, but the scree continued.
Harriman pointed his blaster at them. “If you value your lives, the scree stops. Let any other Chessori on the station know that your lives hang in the balance.”
The scree stopped. “We’ll have visitors soon,” Harriman said to his partner as they fastened restraints on the Chessori and the guards.
“What just happened?” he heard from behind himself.
He whirled around to discover Stor standing there with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. He turned to his partner, both of them exchanging looks of amazement. Harriman went to Stor, took her by the arm, and led her to a far corner of the room.
“You’re still standing. Why?” he demanded.
“Why not. What happened?”
“You didn’t feel the scree?”
“I felt nothing.”
“Speak of this to no one,” he ordered. “Check on Lady Akurea if you will.”
Akurea was just stirring. She sat up with a moan, and Stor was beside her instantly. “Are you okay, My Lady?”
Akurea rubbed a hand across her forehead. “This is not the first time for me. I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, Stor’s glowing eyes filled her view. “Are you okay?”
“I am. Our mission is not.” She helped Akurea to her feet and brought her to Harriman’s side. “What now?” Stor asked.
He herded them back to the far corner and spoke quietly. “This station is lost to us,” he said.
“But . . .” Stor sputtered.
; Harriman held up a hand. “It’s bad, but don’t jump to conclusions. We suddenly have alternatives.”
“What are they?” Akurea demanded.
“Our goal has always been to buy time. The Queen needs months, maybe a year, but not years. We just need to buy time.”
“We’ve been over this. How?”
“We’ll revert to plan if we have to, but sometimes being on the spot brings new ideas into focus. If we shut down the station’s core, how long would it take to replace it?”
Stor studied him through hooded eyes. She had always feared this man, feared him for what he might do to a station. Now . . . was he offering a way out? A faint fire glowed in her eyes. “It might be possible. Anything is better than complete destruction. The core is made up of two main power plants, one designed to lock the station’s position in orbit and the other to power everything else. Smaller bottles, several of them, supply power to the actual production line.”
Harriman thought out loud. “You taught us that the whole place is an incredibly fine-tuned bio system. Could we maybe throw it out of kilter without ruining it completely?”
Akurea spoke. “There are only four of us and thousands of them. How can we get to the core?”
He pointed to the Chessori. “They’re our hole card. They can bring everyone to their knees whenever we make the demand.”
Stor stared at him in amazement. “I’ll need help from station security,” she said.
“Hmm. That could be a problem. How do we determine if there are supporters here on the station?”
“We start with the head of security,” Stor answered. “I’ll make the call.” She went to the director’s work station and placed the call.
When he came on line, the security director was brusque, clearly strained with multiple, simultaneous demands. “What happened?” he demanded.
“Is the station secure?” Akurea asked.
“I . . . I don’t know. We’ve had some kind of malfunction that has affected everyone.”
Voice of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Three) Page 30