The head of the Tomcat fighter squadron called out over the speakers. “We’ve got bogies…Three, make that four. No, five…”
The monitors, equipped with the latest “smart screen” chips, located and magnified the fighter planes in less time than it took the crew to look up to see the threat. The jets, slim javelins poised to plunge themselves into the heart of the shuttle, covered themselves in the light-sucking black paint designed to keep them from detection as long as possible. And it might have worked, if they had been stalking prey other than this particular spacecraft.
Captain Stavros muttered into his headset. “It seems that word of our launch has been leaked.”
Light after light flared on the detection panel, indicating launches of anti-aircraft missiles intended for the enemy aircraft. The Eclipse wove her way through the gauntlet as the opposing jets maneuvered ever closer to the shuttle. The Tomcat escort played a deadly game of chicken with their foreign counterparts, spiraling around the Eclipse like satellites orbiting a planet.
While Stavros had full confidence in the pilots escorting the shuttle…he had handpicked them himself…their jets were outnumbered almost two to one. He opened the direct line to the base, ready to call up reinforcements, when an explosion rocked the shuttle, the shearing forces of the explosive intensifying and warping the G forces of the ascent. But within the bridge, all was steady.
One of the enemy jets was now nothing but debris drifting toward the ground. The ground-to-air missiles had done what they could to even up the fight. Now, with the proximity of the foreign fighters to the shuttle, it was up to the Tomcats, who were still outnumbered.
The foreign jets and the U.S. Tomcats continued to engage in a bitter dogfight as the Eclipse strained to break free of the atmosphere. The enemy’s one extra aircraft challenged the Tomcats. Every time they came close to honing in on one of the bogies, another would appear behind, forcing them to disengage.
“We can’t do it! There’s just too many of them!” one of the pilots growled in frustration after veering away from certain destruction.
And Stavros could see that if nothing changed, the pilot’s assessment was accurate. The Eclipse was fully loaded with weaponry, but unfortunately, all were designed for deep space. All but one. Only one option would be of any use while still limited by the Earth’s atmosphere. And that option would mean the death of their men in the escort squadron.
Arial displays of valor that would be forever unsung played out on the vid-screens inside the shuttle. Admiration for the pilots warred with concern for the mission in Stavros’ heart. The mission won out. The captain muted his connection with the pilots and spoke to weapons.
“Ready the Super Nova array.”
The weapons officer did a double take. “Sir?”
“Do it, Jenkins.”
“Sir.” The officer turned back to his station, readying the weapon.
Stavros readied himself for the difficult command, when one of the Tomcats, his engine damaged, rocketed toward two of the enemy craft. Seconds before impact, the pilot ejected, his jet solidly set on a course of destruction.
The resulting explosion lit the vid-screens from all sides of the bridge.
And with that one heroic, almost suicidal move, the odds were even. The two remaining Tomcats were more than enough to keep the enemy jets at bay, at least until the Eclipse could make her escape. Their remaining escort whipped around the shuttle, close enough to protect but far enough to keep from falling within her wake.
As clear skies began to turn dark blue with the change in altitude, chatter from the two remaining pilots broke through.
“We’re too high up! Our engines don’t have enough oxygen!”
“Eclipse, we have to disengage.”
Stavros responded with sharpness. “Negative. Continue coverage!” The Eclipse had to break free. That was imperative. All other considerations paled in the face of the possible failure of this mission.
As the atmosphere thinned, the jets alongside the Eclipse peeled away, their engines failing from lack of oxygen. One final communication from the pilots came through. “You’re on your own, Eclipse.”
Stavros turned to get a status report from his crew and found himself face to face with Dr. Weigner. The doctor raised an eyebrow.
“No atmospheric defenses? On a military shuttle? I would consider that a serious design flaw.” The scientist turned on his heel and marched off to the other end of the bridge, more than likely searching out more mistakes.
Sadly, on this point, Captain Stavros could do nothing but agree with him.
* * *
As the Eclipse moved through the upper atmosphere, Weigner found himself staring at one of the many vid-screens positioned throughout the bridge, treating the screenlike port window. The screen was nice enough—ultra-def, 3D capabilities, and SoundSynch equipped. But even in the mere five minutes that he had been using it, Weigner had thought of fifteen different ways in which he could have improved it. Thinner, more ergonomically pleasing, better camouflaged…there were so many creative ways to make a simple accessory like a vid-screen something that would impress and astonish. The doctor heaved a deep sigh. Myopic morons.
He glanced over his shoulder at the subdued buzz of activity on the bridge. The crew moved together like a well-oiled machine. A well-oiled machine that grated on Weigner’s every nerve with each cycle of its inefficient human pistons. One of the reasons Weigner chose to employ so few humans is that he found them highly unpleasant. He had only once come across a specimen who could challenge him intellectually, and that experience had proved so spectacularly displeasing that he was unwilling to repeat the exercise any time in the near future.
And if human companionship did nothing to further his intellect, what purpose did it serve? In every other way, the human component did nothing but put him behind schedule. If he weren’t required by law to hire underlings, he would have completely automated his laboratory more than a decade ago.
The navigations officer announced from his station, “Leaving the Earth’s upper atmosphere.”
Dr. Weigner turned back to the underwhelming vid-screen. As the Eclipse crossed the final barrier into deep space, the ship cruised through a slew of communication satellites in geosynchronous orbit, each one with multiple white lights, blinking indicators of their watchfulness. Their beauty was undeniable. So full of precision and simple elegance. It was a silent field of shiny metal stars, winking away in hopes of Earthside wishes. A place where dreams could come true.
And then, all the blinking lights turned red.
Weigner started out of his antihuman reverie, realization dawning. These satellites were not what they seemed. Not remotely. He took a closer look at the mechanical stars surrounding the ship. The sleek communications array began transforming, dishes turning into armor, antennae converting to weaponry.
“Stavros!” Weigner whirled to face the captain in time to watch the man stiffen, clearly irritated at the casual use of his last name. Insufferable ignoramus. “It might perhaps be expedient to peruse the satellites surrounding our craft more thoroughly.”
“Weapons! I want a report on those satellites immediately.” Stavros pointed a finger at the array. Each of the mechanical stars reoriented itself, tracking the Eclipse as it passed.
The weapons officer checked the instrumentation, and then cried out, “They’re attack satellites!”
Weigner accessed the information he had on these attack satellites. One of the many projects he had been consulted on, this “defense” weapon had been deemed unsuitable for the U.S. government to pursue because of the political climate at the time. This particular model had been purchased and further developed by the Chinese, ostensibly to ward off any potential alien threat. No one planetside had ever bought in to that particular piece of propaganda. Part of that might have been that the satellites were all facing the Earth, rather than away from it.
The devices were designed to mimic a typical communications sa
tellite, but closer examination revealed titanium armor, mini-laser cannons…
And mines.
Weigner spun to warn the captain just as an explosion rocked the ship and left dozens of warning lights on in its place.
Stavros yelled, “Evasive—!” but he was cut off by another explosion.
It was clear that no ship, however technologically advanced, could hold up under that kind of barrage. Weigner positioned himself closer to the captain, knowing that his expertise here could make the difference between their survival and ultimate demise. He studiously ignored the sour look directed at him by the stiff-backed Stavros.
The attack satellites crouched with their red lights blinking like so many hyenas on the plains of the Serengeti. Each satellite was a small armada, filled with enough firepower on its own to cripple their shuttle. Watching more closely, Weigner observed as the satellites continued to launch a slew of tiny mines, covering the space through which the shuttle was slated to pass. Once each satellite extruded its deadly payload, it zoomed back to resume its beady-eyed observation of the Eclipse as she moved forward.
One more blast shook the ship. If explosions were enough to penetrate the dampening effect of the field, the damage the ship was taking must be spectacular.
Self-preservation asserted itself. Exercising the fullest extent of his tact, Weigner addressed the captain. “Sir?” Stavros, clearly surprised at the title, turned to observe the scientist. “I am familiar with this design. The pattern here will be to disable the ship with the mines, at which point the satellites will swarm over us, attaching themselves and dismembering the ship with their lasers.”
“Thank you, Doctor. We will take care of this.” Stavros turned his back on him, dismissing Weigner as if he were one of the many underlings floating about the shuttle.
The doctor reached out and took hold of the captain’s arm. Stavros whirled about, shock coloring his face. He jerked his arm out of Weigner’s hand. He opened his mouth, more than likely to reproach the doctor for his physical impropriety.
Weigner had no time for this. “Captain. These satellites will tear this ship apart. From my observations, I have extrapolated some of its capabilities. Ones you are clearly underutilizing. That is a mistake.”
The captain’s jaw worked for a moment. When he did speak, his tone was frosty. “Dr. Weigner. The capabilities of this ship are a tightly held state secret. We will only demonstrate the full extent of its weaponry if no other options are available. You did notice that those are satellites we are up against? Ones that could broadcast to our enemies exactly what this ship can do?”
Weigner’s opinion of the captain was dropping faster than their chances of survival. “And, Captain, I am telling you that we are well past the point of having options here. We are surrounded by some of the most deadly weapons known to deep space.”
Shockingly, the captain responded by chuckling. “Doctor, you have no idea what this shuttle can do.”
With no warning to the hovering satellites, the Eclipse whipped about, showing a dexterity never seen before in any previous shuttle. Out here in the void of space, she was completely in her element. Using her jets, the Eclipse detonated the chain of mines, the reacting explosions leading right back to the offending satellites. The resultant explosions were impressive.
Weigner found that he had very little to say at this point. He readjusted his jaw to allow his mouth to once more hinge shut.
Correcting course in a matter of moments, the Eclipse glided past what was once hostile territory and soared into empty space.
As the crew returned to their seats, Captain Stavros gave the doctor a hard smirk, then gazed beyond the blackness of space and murmured, “Now comes the hard part.”
The doctor felt his heart sink to the floor.
* * *
Jarod had thought that the hangar at the junkyard had been their low point as far as decrepit machinery was concerned. It was now clear that he had been dead wrong.
Okay, so the fact that he had purchased the ship from a destitute guy in a shantytown— who was recommended by a bouncer in a strip club—might have given him some clue. But even the circumstances leading up to this couldn’t have prepared him for what he faced right now.
This was a frankenjunker. Not a single piece of ship was new or unpatched, and he could see the repair attempts. One main part of the hull had half of a NASA emblem in the process of peeling off, which meant that metal was at least thirty-eight years old. That wasn’t the worst part of it, though. The reason that only half of the emblem remained wasn’t because the other half had worn off. Instead, the hull had been cut and then welded together with some other random piece of metal.
It was not Jarod’s finest hour.
Honestly, he was frightened to even look at the ship too closely, for fear it would collapse just from the extra attention. The thought of climbing aboard was giving him a rash somewhere unmentionable. He resisted the urge to scratch, knowing that it would make him look that much more guilty. Jarod needed all the help he could get right now.
“Wow,” Rob spoke what seemed to be on everyone’s mind. “Uncle Jare, this makes the Eureka look like the Queen Mary.”
Jarod glared at the offending teenager. Just because he was right didn’t give the kid any right to say that…at least not in front of Cleo. Rob assessed his uncle’s mood, appeared to rethink his comment, and went in another direction.
The teen sighed. “I’ll start on the computer diagnostics and see if this baby can even run the air conditioning.”
Buton was clearly unimpressed with the craft, but seemed to be trying out a glass-half-full approach. “At least we should have abundant funds for supplies.”
Jarod tried with all his might to keep his face expressionless, but Cleo had eyes like a hawk.
“Jarod?” Seriously. He had to figure out how she did that.
Jarod spread his hands wide. He added a big smile for good measure. “Guys, guys. Ships, even this clunker, are in high demand.” Cleo groaned and Buton shook his head, causing Jarod to explain further.
“So I had to quick-sale my house…” Cleo did a double take, glaring at Jarod with her best I-am-going-to-kill-you-slowly-and-painfully look. “Hey! At least we have a ship.”
Buton, true to form as always, would not let it rest. “And how much is left for supplies?”
Jarod turned away as he mumbled into his fist. “I’ve heard that they take American Express.”
Cleo looked like she was about to have an aneurism on the spot. “Jarod!”
“Look, we’ve got a ship!” Jarod infused his voice with all the enthusiasm he could muster. “With all that’s happened, I can feel it! What else can go wrong?”
Okay, even Jarod had to admit that his latest statements might not have been the smartest things to say at this point.
CHAPTER 10
Aboard the Eclipse, several hundred kilometers from the Moon
March 30, 2049
1029 hours, LST
Dr. Weigner hovered over the shoulder of the navigations officer as the man plotted a course that would allow the Eclipse to evade Moonbase detection. They were using the ship’s cloaking technology, which, while impressive, left something to be desired. With the current cloaking technology used, the craft still needed to do all she could to avoid direct scans. The shuttle would appear as nothing more than a blur to any casual observer, but penetrating the disguise was relatively simple once someone was looking for it.
Extrapolating from what he had seen, Weigner determined that the cloaking field must be generated with carbon nanotubes, which created an environment similar to the desert mirage, blurring the images behind it. This realization caused the doctor to groan inwardly. His opinion of this vessel’s designers reached a new low. Had the scientists involved not heard of the amazing advances in meta-materials? These tiny particles…smaller than the size of a wavelength of light…had the ability to guide light around an object. Perhaps even some combination of the two
technologies…Weigner lost himself in contemplating this idea.
The movements of the nav officer brought him back to the present. Such a poorly designed panel. The poor officer had to dart all over the place in order to accomplish the simplest of navigational acts. Weigner patted the sad little man on the back, expressing his sympathy. The officer turned around, startled. Ah, yes. The doctor often forgot how disconcerting it could be to receive attention from someone of elevated status. He gave the young man a strained smile and walked back toward his vid-screen, vowing to refrain from physical contact in the future. He had no desire to distract the crew from their business of getting them all to the Moon and keeping the ship hidden.
Weigner had to admit that the secrecy added to the general air of excitement. While the doctor had been known to participate in a touch of political maneuvering within scientific circles, where one’s associates were far more important that actual knowledge, he had never really engaged in any cloak-and-dagger protocol above that of entering his top-secret lab. He forced calm upon himself. No mere adrenaline rush would be allowed to supersede his objective.
The haughty Captain Stavros called out to his staff, calling them all in for a briefing before their imminent landing on the Moon. He brought up a holographic display of the topography they would find on arrival.
“We’re going to conceal the shuttle here…” The captain pointed to a deeper-than-normal crater. “We will then use the land-cruisers to access the diamond fields.”
Weigner saw no indication of his extensive notes to the captain apparent in the demonstration. The doctor had gone to great lengths to ascertain the area of highest yield possibilities. Was the captain planning on ignoring Weigner’s professional estimate? Weigner spoke out into a sudden hush.
“We’re searching where I suggested?”
Captain Stavros stared the doctor right in the eyes, holding his gaze for an uncomfortable moment. The captain seemed to be daring Weigner to blink first. The doctor refused to give him the satisfaction. As the tension became almost unbearable, the captain responded.
Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) Page 37