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by Thomas DePrima


  "Yes, Excellency. All is prepared."

  "Good. They're about to get the surprise of their lives."

  * * *

  "What have you learned?" Christa asked as she climbed up to join Madu on the platform where the computer console was located. Madu was just standing there staring at the monitor.

  "The news is bad," Madu replied. "The diagnostic module incorporated into each chamber is so slow that it could take solars to run the procedure on all thirty thousand units."

  "Solars? We don't have solars."

  "I know. That's why I said the news was bad."

  "Oh. I thought you meant the information you'd collected was bad."

  "That too. Of the twelve chambers checked so far, four have almost no power reserves at all. If they lose power for more than ten minutes, the process will begin to reverse and the sleeper will be awakened."

  "Four out of twelve? That is bad. We can't feed ten thousand additional people for very long."

  "How did you make out with the water problem?"

  "I've ordered the pressure in the facility to be increased and the filtration room to be closed and sealed. I have the engineers searching for every place where water might escape so they can attempt to block its flow. If we get lucky, we can reduce the flow to a trickle outside the room. If we can do that, we might be able to find a way to pump the water out of the drains."

  "The drains? But we're hundreds of meters below the outside water table."

  "Yes, but the drains in every sink, shower, and head must feed into a central area where the water is then automatically pumped to the top level and fed into the local sewer system."

  "Head?"

  "Sorry. It's the term the military uses for the lavatory, the 'convenience,' or the commode."

  Madu nodded her head. "That makes sense. I mean the theory, not the fact that you call the commode a head. Why is it called a head?"

  "Tradition— and pithiness, I guess. Head is a single syllable, where lavatory and convenience are four. Even commode is two. That's the pithiness part. The tradition is a little harder to explain. Before sea-going ships had power, they used sails to gather wind for propulsion. The wind, by necessity, had to come over the stern to be of use on large vessels, so the commode would be located at the bow, or head, of the ship so the smells wouldn't pass over the entire ship."

  "I see. That makes sense as well. Not the name, the location."

  "Madu, let me take a look at the procedure you're running. Perhaps I can get a little more speed out of it."

  Madu stepped aside to allow Christa full access to the console. Christa looked at the information on the monitor, then began typing in commands at a furious pace.

  "How is it that you know this system?" Madu asked. She was clearly in awe of Christa's apparent familiarity.

  "I gained a lot of knowledge working with the system at the cloning facility. The programs are different, but the operating system is identical and that's the most important part. And I got a good refresher course when I worked with the security stations in the rotunda. Computers have always been a hobby of mine and essentially they all work the same way. You just have to understand the 'language' they speak."

  After a few more minutes, Christa said, "The procedure you were running was apparently intended to operate as a background task. It constantly checks the chambers. When all chambers have been checked, it starts over again, so it's been running continuously for twenty thousand years. The information is stored in the data files, so we only have to create a report rather than checking all the chambers again. I've asked it to tell me how many chambers would not survive thirty solars without power."

  "Why thirty solars?"

  "Because the Higgins Space Command base is only about thirty light-annuals away. This planet is far too populated for the attack to go unnoticed for long. Someone will find it strange that they haven't heard from the Marine outpost or the archeological camp, or that their messages are going unanswered. I don't know the size of the attacking force, or forces, but I'm sure they can’t stand against the might of a Space Command warship. Even if no warship is closer to us than Higgins, one will arrive here in within thirty solars."

  A few seconds later, the report popped up on the monitor.

  "Great Nallick save us," Madu muttered. "It's even worse than we thought."

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  ~ October 25th, 2285 ~

  Traveling at Sub-Light-100 since dropping out of FTL, the Raider destroyer Hell Fire closed quickly on the Gastropod, which was still traveling at Sub-Light-50.

  "All gunners," Captain Permenans said over the ship-wide com, "prepare to open fire, but not until I give the command." To the com chief, he said, "Send the message."

  "Attention freighter," the com chief said into his headset microphone. "Heave to and prepare to be boarded or you'll be destroyed."

  After a minute during which no transmission was received, the com officer sent the message again.

  "No response, Captain," the com chief said a minute later.

  "Okay, they've had their chance. Put me on ship-wide, chief."

  "You're on, Captain."

  "Attention, gunners, we're going in. You have permission to open fire when you have a lock. Try to avoid hitting the engines. That's all."

  * * *

  "Laser gunners, fire at will," Vejrezzol announced. "Tactical, hold your fire until I give the order."

  All gunners acknowledged the order, then hunched over their consoles, watching the large target dot on the screen in front of them. As the ship came into range, the laser gunners let loose with their fire, but the low-power lasers were virtually ineffective against the armor of a warship.

  When the Hell Fire reached a point one thousand kilometers abreast of the Gastropod, Vejrezzol said, "Now!"

  As the words reached the tactical officer, he depressed the two lighted switches on his consoles. The sidewalls of two cargo containers flew off and two fourteen-meter-long torpedoes burst from the steel containers.

  * * *

  An alarm began shrieking aboard the Hell Fire's bridge as the two deadly missiles streaked towards the warship.

  "All gunners target those torpedoes!" Captain Permenans screamed. "Tac, eject counter measures. Helm, evade, evade, evade."

  Arms of coherent light reached out for the streaking tubes of death as the gunners tried to destroy them. The tac officer ejected counter measures designed to confuse the targeting systems and cause the torpedoes to exhaust their precious fuel while the helmsman twisted the joystick and sent the Hell Fire on a wild and twisting erratic path away from the freighter. With each maneuver, the missiles had to change direction to follow, but they slowly closed the gap. There wasn't enough time to build the FTL envelope, so the warship had to rely on its sub-light speed, the maneuvers of the helmsman, the counter measures, and the skill of the gunners.

  As the first of the torpedoes closed to within a kilometer, one gunner scored a hit that caused the torpedo to explode. All gunners then shifted their attention to the remaining torpedo.

  The second torpedo almost reached the ship before another gunner scored a hit that destroyed the targeting system. The torpedo skewered off in a twisting, turning action, ultimately exploding a good distance from the ship.

  "Alright," Captain Permenans said, "they've had their shot. I doubt they've got any more of those things. Now it's our turn."

  As the Hell Fire neared the Gastropod again, the gunners opened up on the cargo ship with everything they had, anxious for a little payback after what they had just been through.

  * * *

  "We can't possibly escape," Gxidescu said. "The hull is open to space in hundreds of locations."

  "Then we shall have to give them our final surprise. Helm, cut power and cease course correction. Allow the ship to go where it will."

  "Yes, Excellency."

  * * *

  When the sub-light engines shut down, Captain Permenans smiled. "Got 'e
m," was all he said as the Hell Fire's helmsman cut power to the engines and allowed the ship to drift towards the Gastropod as he matched its speed.

  * * *

  "They've taken the bait," Vejrezzol said.

  "But why didn't we wait until they pulled alongside before we fired the torpedoes?" Gxidescu asked. "We might have gotten them."

  "No, they needed to see a last ditch effort before they'd come in close. Now they believe they've seen it."

  Vejrezzol waited until the Hell Fire was less than a hundred meters from the Gastropod and had sent out shuttles to board the freighter.

  "Okay, Gxidescu, it's time to give them the real surprise we've reserved for them."

  "Yes, Excellency," Gxidescu said somberly.

  * * *

  "Even if we began waking sleepers immediately we couldn't possibly awaken all the sleepers who are at risk," Madu said.

  "Calm down," Christa said. "Your people may be able to slow the flow of water enough so it doesn't present a danger. If they can't, we'll start waking the sleepers at the lowest level and work our way higher as the water rises."

  "But if the power shorts out as the water rises, the chambers at the top will be inaccessible."

  "We'll find a way if we have to. Remember, we still may not have to."

  "These aren't your people, so you're not as concerned."

  "When I took command of this outpost, everyone in it became one of my people. I take my responsibility seriously, Madu."

  Madu took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "I'm sorry, Christa. I take my responsibility seriously, and I believe you do the same. I'm just frightened we won’t be able to save them all."

  "We'll save every one. I promise."

  "Can I awaken some of the more brilliant minds now? Just in case?"

  "We still have the issue of food, Madu."

  "You said you stocked enough for a thousand people for thirty solars and that help will be here before that time is up. How many mouths do we have currently?"

  "About five hundred, I think. I haven't had time to collect information."

  "Then we should be able to awaken five hundred sleepers."

  Christa sighed. She knew Madu wasn't going to give up. But she also knew the Admiralty Board might be angry about waking the sleepers before she had received permission.

  "If I allow you to awaken five hundred, will you cease asking for more unless we know it's an emergency?"

  "I promise."

  "Okay," Christa said as she keyed in her password after using her body to block sight of the keyboard. "You can awaken five hundred, so pick the ones you feel will be of most value in this emergency."

  Madu smiled. "Thanks, Christa. Your actions continue to reinforce the trust that's been developing in me."

  "Madu, I want to see everyone in this vault awakened, but only when we can guarantee that all can be properly housed and fed unless we must do it sooner to protect their lives. If we had the resources, I'd tell you awaken all of them now."

  "I believe you, Christa. My concern is that your superiors may not agree with your philosophies or actions."

  "Knowing what I do about the actions of the religious dissents responsible for the attempted death of your entire population on this planet, I can understand your reticence to trust what you feel are outsiders, but you must remember that you're part of the Galactic Alliance now unless you wish to withdraw. Until that unlikely event, Space Command will do everything we can to protect you from harm."

  "We can withdraw from the Galactic Alliance?"

  "Of course. The Alliance is composed of planets that have banded together for the good of all member worlds. If you don't wish to be a member, the planetary government can pull out."

  "With no repercussions?"

  "There are always repercussions from any action. You'll have to decide if the advantages outweigh the disadvantages."

  "Which are?"

  "Uh, I think that discussion should be set aside for another time, Madu. We have much more important matters to think about now. I believe you wanted to awaken five hundred people."

  "Yes. Of course," Madu said as she turned her attention to the console and began looking through lists of names.

  * * *

  Admiral Holt's chief aide took a deep breath and pressed the talk button on his com unit. "Admiral, Captain Dommler and Colonel Reilly would like a few minutes of your time to discuss an urgent matter." When the message, 'Send them in,' appeared on his monitor, the aide nodded his head towards the Admiral's inner office.

  Captain Richard Dommler, the officer in charge of fleet communications in the deca-sector, walked down the hallway just slightly ahead of Colonel Michael Reilly, the Commander of Marine forces in the deca-sector. They paused for just a second to straighten their tunics, then stepped into the area where the door sensor would detect their presence and alert the Admiral. As the door slid open, they stepped smartly into the room.

  "Gentlemen, come in," Admiral Holt said affably. "What's this urgent matter you need to discuss? Does the squash court in the officer's gym need repainting?" When the admiral's jest failed to bring the expected grins, Holt knew the matter was serious indeed.

  "Admiral," Dommler said, "We have a major problem on Dakistee."

  "I'm listening, Robert. Have a seat and continue."

  At the invitation to sit, the two officers parked themselves in the overstuffed chairs that floated in front of the Admiral's desk.

  "Sir," Colonel Reilly said, "I've received a message from the North Pendleton base commander that the dig site at Loudescott was attacked by an unknown force. Dozens of people were killed by lattice weapons mounted on aerial craft. There was an unidentified freighter in orbit over the site at the time, but it has since disappeared."

  Holt's affable expression had turned cold and hard as Reilly talked.

  "Lt. Colonel Diminjik has scoured space around the planet and found no sign of danger. The new facility at Loudescott is closed, and we're assuming the survivors have sealed themselves inside. We have no report of their condition or the number of survivors."

  "Of the dead, how many were civilians and how many were military?"

  "All were civilians. It's appears they were gunned down as they tried to reach the safety of the facility."

  "Sir," Dommler said, "every ship in the deca-sector has been alerted to keep an eye out for that freighter. We believe it might be the one carrying religious dissidents from Nordakia to Slabeca. The Nordakian Space Force asked us to watch them for a while because their intelligence arm suspected the ship might make for Obotymot instead."

  "I'm familiar with that issue. So you think those psychopaths attacked Dakistee with the intention of taking the planet for themselves?"

  "They may have tried it and then decided the effort wouldn't work."

  "Damn," Holt said, "as if things weren't difficult enough in this deca-sector with most of our forces still not returned from our war posture along the old Frontier border. Now we have a shipload of maniacs running around slaughtering innocent civilians in the name of religion. I don't mind if they want to die for their God, but why do these nut jobs always need to take others with them— as if such tactics ever solved anything in centuries of religious hatred on Earth. Won’t they ever learn that they really accomplish nothing with violence except to bring more of it down on their own heads?"

  Dommler and Reilly maintained their silence and a staid appearance during the Admiral's little rant.

  "Okay," Holt said, "where are we with the search?"

  "No one has sighted the freighter yet. The destroyer Portland was the ship assigned to babysit the freighter until it seemed reasonably certain they were headed towards Slabeca. The Portland is presently only a couple of days from Dakistee and Captain Gregory has announced he'll commence a search as soon as they reach the area."

  "Good. Frank's a good officer. He'll know where to look. Anybody else out that way?"

  "We have several other ships about a week
to ten days out. All are headed for the area at top speed."

  "I wish we had a few scout-destroyers available. What about that diplomatic corps yacht?"

  "I don't know, sir. I could check to see if it's available. It's only lightly armed, though."

  "That's fine. We only want their speed for assistance in the search. Let's pull out all the stops, gentlemen. I want that freighter found, and if they aren’t the ones responsible for this attack then I want to know who is. This kind of atrocity ended when the Raiders were sent packing and I don't ever intend to let anyone gain another foothold like that in my deca-sector."

  * * *

  "Gxidescu," Vejrezzol said, "What's going on? I gave the order to fire."

  "There seems to be a problem, Excellency," Gxidescu said from the tactical console. "The explosives have failed to detonate."

  "Try again."

  "I have, Excellency. I've sent the code three times."

  "Find the problem!" Vejrezzol screamed.

  "There might be a break in the wiring. A conduit may have been pierced when the warship was firing on us."

  "Gxidescu, those infidels will be boarding us at any minute!"

  "The ship is depressurized, Excellency. We can't leave the bridge without EVA suits."

  "That's unacceptable."

  "Yes, Excellency. But nevertheless, it's a fact."

  "Distribute weapons. We'll fight them when they attempt to enter the bridge."

  "We have no weapons on the bridge. We never anticipated a need for them since taking control of the ship from the real crew."

  "We are the real crew."

  "Yes, Excellency. Of course, you are correct. We are the real crew."

  * * *

  "Captain, we're about to enter the freighter," XO Pasquale said from the bridge of a shuttle. "Any final orders?"

  "Just play it by ear, XO. If any still live and want to continue living, accept their surrender. If they insist on dying, help them along the path to whatever God they worship."

  "Aye, Captain. Message received and understood."

  Thirty minutes later, the boarding parties were outside the bridge. A deck by deck search had shown that only the bridge was still pressurized. Pasquale had sent for a portable airlock, and, when it was in place, the XO and three of his people entered and forced open the doors to the bridge.

 

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