Solar Express

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Tavoian, on the other hand, had no desire to provide a distraction that would prove fatal to himself. He also couldn’t afford to have the L1 facilities destroyed for quite a number of reasons, and with ONeill Station incommunicado and possibly inoperative, his own options were limited, to say the least.

  After several moments, he asked, “Distance to L1 when we begin decel?”

  TWO MILLION ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND KAYS.

  Tavoian thought. That was quite a ways away for accurate plotting to have objects even generally get close to a target. But if the Sinese ships remained comparatively stationary with regard to L1 …

  “Do we have enough thruster propellant to do two turnovers?”

  THERE IS ENOUGH FOR FOUR TURNOVERS AND A STANDARD APPROACH TO DONOVAN BASE.

  Recon three would be traveling at roughly eighty-five kps for two hours after the first two-hour decel. Tavoian did more mental calculations. At eighty-five kps, any object released from Recon three would be traveling at over five thousand kays a minute. “What will be the distance from L2 just before we begin the second decel burst?”

  SEVEN HUNDRED EIGHTEEN THOUSAND KAYS.

  “How accurately can you program the torps from that distance?

  THEORETICALLY, ACCURACY IS WITHIN ONE HUNDRED METERS FOR A TARGET TRAVELING ON A STABLE ORBITAL PATH.

  “What about unpowered objects?”

  THERE IS NO DATA ON WHICH TO BASE AN ANALYSIS.

  Another guess. What he had in mind might work, and he couldn’t think of anything else. And it was a very good thing he hadn’t cycled the lock, because that cycling was going to have to do double duty, so to speak.

  87

  HOTNEWS!

  5 DECEMBER 2114

  [Image Not Available Due to Technical Limitations]

  Power’s back on in the EC. Mostly, that is, except for Russian and the black glass area on the north side of the Black Sea. Who needs power there? It still glows. Chancellor Rumikov would be pressing everyone else, but he can’t. The others are too busy with not enough power, not enough transport, and soon, not enough food.

  [Image Unavailable]

  No one’s heard from Jiang Qining the All-Powerful? Might be that one of those scattered explosions across the Sinese Federation rumored to be Indra scramjet strikes silenced him. Or maybe Qining the Merciless is still in his deep bunker hoping for mercy? The silence hasn’t stopped some of his space dreadnoughts from demanding the turnover of all Noram space assets to the Federation. A deep space coup, perhaps? No word from Ottawa, but silence has always suited Prexy Dyana.

  [Image Unavailable]

  An AAZ delivery drone got misguided, but it did pick up images of what’s happening in Ulaanbaatar. Mongolia First has brought out the horn bows. They don’t require any power but muscles. The remaining Sinese security forces have dispersed. Fled—that’s the word. Now that all the maglevs are down—they take LOTS of power—Beijing can’t send forces there. Well, they could airlift them, but there’s the small problem of air control. Also it’s hard to refuel when there’s no power for the fuel pumps.

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  The top dog at Twenty-Second Century Fox already plans a full-scale production based on the recent solar superstorm. That’s right. Mieville Hughes, chairman of the entertainment giant, has it all planned. The best thing of all? He can tell the truth—mostly, anyway. What an amazing idea!

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  Noram’s acting Secretary of DOEA—that’s the not-so-lovable Hensen Correia—he’s got two converted and militarized fusionjets in striking position to take out the Sinese EastHem space elevator, if the Sinese attempt to move against the Noram L1 facilities. Talk about a standoff. Only problem is … our would-be standoffer can’t find any Sinese authority who’ll talk to him. Or even talk back.

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  This just in! New York, the Venice of the North, is totally without power. Situation’s getting worse by the moment. No power … no pumps. Everything’s flooded, and there’s a strong probability that the waterlogged not-so-big apple might take a hit from late-season Hurricane Tomas … which did a number on Savannah and just finished the demolition of the west end of the old Mall in the ruins of Washington, D.C. What’s next? The obliteration of the Balt—

  [Signal Lost]

  88

  RECON THREE

  5 DECEMBER 2114

  At 0745 UTC, Tavoian initiated turnover, and at 0801, deceleration began. Immediately, he felt heavy, very heavy, and his head began to throb. His vision was fuzzy as well, but after several swallows of water, he could see better. He still felt like shit, but he was sitting in the control couch, not floating.

  “Current CO2 level?”

  CURRENT CO2 LEVEL IS SEVEN POINT ZERO.

  He just hoped he could hang on until 1145 UTC, or thereabouts. Sitting, watching the monitors, and waiting made him even more worried. Less than twenty minutes later, he was in the aft compartment, the one that had been filled with gear, surveillance, and measuring and analytical devices, many of which he had used, and some of which he had not, but there was still quite an array of items and still unused equipment.

  To begin with, Tavoian sorted out the smaller items he had not used, such as the spare cubesats and spy-eyes, and other small items, such as spare thruster paks, and moved them all to the space adjoining the main lock. He’d hoped that there might be items like steel screws and nuts and bolts. There were all of three small packages. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the fasteners and the like were of lightweight composite.

  As the deceleration continued, Tavoian took all the other detachable things that were of small and moderate sizes, among them the carbon extruder and the broken tunable laser, and moved them as well. He thought about the space anchors, but realized that they were still attached to one of the ISVs docked to Recon three.

  After the deceleration stopped at 1202 UTC, Tavoian asked, “Are the Sinese spacecraft still in position at L1?”

  THEIR POSITION HAS CHANGED. THEY APPEAR TO BE STABLE.

  At least they were stable in that position some four seconds ago. “Calculate course line for Sinese craft, and indicate how much fuel it will require to put us on that course line with no tangential vector component.” The last words might not have been necessary, but Tavoian wanted to make certain.

  ADDITIONAL FUEL REQUIRED TOTALS FOURTEEN MINUTES.

  “Will Recon three have enough fuel remaining for decel and approach?”

  RECON THREE WILL HAVE SUFFICIENT FUEL FOR DECEL AND APPROACH WITH A MARGIN OF EIGHTEEN MINUTES. THAT IS LESS THAN THE REQUIRED MARGIN OF THIRTY MINUTES.

  It was getting so that everything was coming up a little short. Tavoian paused. Hel3 requirements were affected by the mass of the ship. It just might work. Especially if he got rid of everything he could. The colonel did suggest all available weapons.

  He’d still have to wait almost another two hours, and he’d never been good at waiting when there was something to do. So he went back to the aft compartment to see what else he might be able to add to the pile of parts, equipment, and objects that now floated in reasonable proximity to the inner airlock.

  When he had done all that he could, he returned to the controls, and began to program the two ISVs to home in on any vessel with the profile similar to the Sinese ships. That was probably an exercise in futility, given the speed at which the ISVs would be moving and the comparative minimal power from the ISV thrusters thrust from, but … if they just happened to be close …

  Another hour passed. By then he was feeling even less well, and he asked, “Interrogative CO2 level?”

  CO2 LEVEL IS AT SEVEN POINT TWO PERCENT.

  Just a little longer.

  As he waited, Tavoian couldn’t help thinking that it had taken him sixteen hours of accel and rest, the same as it took to get to the artifact, to reach a speed that was half of what his outbound velocity had been. Now he was traveling at half that speed for half the distance, and it was ta
king almost as long. Except, Tavoian realized, it was far more than half the distance given that he’d been traveling farther to avoid initially losing speed in order to use that speed to escape the sun’s greater gravitational attraction near the orbit of Mercury.

  Finally, after heading aft once again and adding more to the stack, pausing, and rethinking his plans, and rethinking again, and adding more small items, at 1355 UTC, Tavoian asked, “Are the Sinese ships still in the same position?”

  THEY HAVE SHIFTED POSITION SLIGHTLY, BUT ARE STABLE.

  “When the drive is ready, do a turnover and make the course change to a straight-on intercept of the Sinese ships.”

  THAT REQUIRES AN OVERRIDE.

  “Make course change with minimal fuel usage. Priority override. Compensating factors will decrease fuel mass ratio.”

  Eight minutes passed before the AI announced, BEGINNING TURNOVER AND MAKING COURSE CHANGE.

  Even before the AI replied, Tavoian could sense the ship moving around him.

  “When on new course, slew the ship so that the airlock is aligned with the course line.”

  Slightly more than fifteen minutes later, the marginal acceleration stopped, and the AI declared, OUTER AIRLOCK DOOR IS ALIGNED WITH PRESENT COURSE AND HEADING.

  “Open the inner lock.”

  The inner lock opened, and a brief wave of chill air rushed past him. As the lock air mixed with the compartment air, Tavoian felt slightly less flushed and his stomach was less uneasy. That could be your imagination. Whether it was imagination or not, the improvement in the way he felt was welcome, and he began to shift everything he had determined that was unnecessary for his return to Donovan Base into the lock, wondering if it would all fit.

  It did, with barely enough room for him to slip inside as well.

  He extracted the emergency space suit from the wall locker next to the airlock and struggled into it, not the easiest of tasks while weightless. Within several moments of sealing the helmet, he definitely felt even better. His headache wasn’t throbbing so much, and he didn’t feel as flushed. Auto-suggestion … or real physiological relief? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he cared.

  He stepped into the main lock, and attached the tether to the suit’s equipment belt, not that he had any equipment attached. “Close the inner airlock hatch.”

  OVERRIDE REQUIRED WITH CODE.

  Tavoian had to struggle to remember the code. “‘Tiger, tiger, burning bright.’”

  INNER AIRLOCK HATCH CLOSING.

  Tavoian waited. “Open the outer lock.”

  THAT IS NOT RECOMMENDED AT PRESENT SPEED.

  Neither is asphyxiating because you don’t have a home base to return to. Any home base. “Priority override. ‘In the forests of the night.’”

  OUTER LOCK IS OPENING.

  Several of the loose and lighter items were carried out of the lock as the air dispersed into space. Tavoian edged forward to the opening and looked out, taking in the view, restricted as it was by his helmet. He could see his destination, or rather both the Earth and the Moon … and the approximate position where the L1 facilities were. He thought he could make out several small points of light, but whether those were station lights or distant stars in the same position, he couldn’t tell.

  For a moment, he just looked. In all the time he’d been a pilot, he’d been where he could physically see the stars and Earth and Moon directly, not through a screen or a sensor, only a handful of times, mostly in various training exercises. Finally, he took a last look, trying to fix in his memory the image of Earth and Moon, half a million kays away, a not-quite full blue orb and a smaller dusty white crescent, against a star-splashed black velvet depth.

  Then he turned and began unloading the airlock by lifting the broken laser and pushing it out. Then came the carbon extruder, followed by the spy-eyes and the small cubesats and thruster-paks, and all the other paraphernalia. The smaller items he eased out awkwardly, trying to give them some tiny amount of separation, but as little as possible.

  All in all, it took him almost fifteen minutes before the lock was emptied.

  “Undock and launch ISV one on current heading and course. Minimal ISV thrust for two minutes only.” Tavoian waited until the first ISV was clear, then ordered the launch for the second. When he was certain it was on its way, he stepped back and pressed the stud to manually close the outer airlock.

  He had to wait more than five minutes before the airlock was pressurized and he could open the inner hatch. As soon as he was in the passenger area, he took off the helmet and made certain that he turned off the suit’s air supply as well.

  “Interrogative CO2 level?”

  CO2 LEVEL IS SIX POINT SEVEN.

  Tavoian wanted to take a deep breath. With roughly four hours to go, he should reach Donovan Base before the air in Recon three became unbreathable enough to knock him out.

  “Initiate turnover and reorientation.”

  INITIATING TURNOVER AND ORIENTATION.

  Tavoian slowly struggled out of the emergency space suit, then replaced it in its locker. Within minutes of when he reached the control couch, the AI declared, TURNOVER AND ORIENTATION COMPLETE.

  “Commence deceleration.”

  COMMENCING DECELERATION.

  Since Tavoian had used fifteen minutes of drive availability for the course change, that meant Recon three would only actually decelerate for an hour and forty-five minutes, and that would add more than twenty minutes to the final decel—after another two-hour break.

  He just lay back in the control couch for several minutes, thinking. What he’d attempted was an incredible long shot, but with all that he’d launched out of the lock, if any of it hit either of the Sinese ships it would do significant if not catastrophic damage. Considering that each piece would be traveling at close to three hundred thousand kays per hour, even a carbon fabric fastener could likely punch through most spacecraft hulls. And if something like the ISV or the broken tunable laser hit one of the Sinese ships, it would render the ship inoperable if not destroy it. On the other hand, he’d launched at most two or three hundred objects, less than fifty of which had significant mass. He’d attempted to create almost no spread, but he had figured that just his own actions would create a little spread. The two ISVs would remain in the center of the spread.

  It might work … and from this distance what else could you have done?

  He still had two torps, but those would have to wait until he reached the L1 area, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to use them … but feared he would.

  His thoughts drifted … and then he woke with a start when the deceleration stopped and he became weightless once more. He checked the time—1605 UTC—and immediately worried about the Sinese ships, but when he tried to ask the AI, his mouth and throat were so dry that all he could do was croak. He fumbled to find the squeezebottle. It took several mouthfuls and swallows before he could clear his throat.

  “Can you pick up the Sinese ships on RCS?” The AI should, since Recon three ought to be around a hundred and seventy-five thousand kays away, almost next door in astronomical terms.

  THAT IS AFFIRMATIVE.

  Tavoian wanted to shake his head. His debris should have struck the ships some fifteen minutes before the end of decel.

  ONE VESSEL IS RADIATING EXCESS HEAT. THE OTHER IS CLOSING ON IT.

  Yes! “Can you determine the severity of the damage?”

  THE DAMAGED VESSEL APPEARS TO BE MISSING A LARGE SECTION OF ONE END, WITH LESSER DAMAGE MIDSHIPS.

  The “good” thing about the damage was that at the speeds involved, it would be difficult for the Sinese to discover anything but the fact that the ship had been struck by a high velocity object … and meteors and cosmic debris did occur. The bad thing was that one of the ships appeared to be intact. The other problem was that Tavoian really didn’t have any choice but to complete a standard deceleration, because he didn’t have enough Hel3 for anything else.

  Except it doesn’t have to be exactly standar
d. “To what speed can we decelerate to reach firing range on the two Sinese ships, execute turnover, fire torps, and then turnover and complete decel at two gees and still have enough thruster propellant and Hel3 to reach Donovan Base?”

  THE OPTIMUM SOLUTION WOULD BE TO CONTINUE AT PRESENT VELOCITY FOR AN ADDITIONAL TEN MINUTES BEFORE EXECUTING TURNOVER AND FIRING TORPS, THEN EXECUTE A TURNOVER AND COMMENCE DECELERATION AT THREE GEES FOR TWELVE MINUTES. THAT ALLOWS TEN MINUTES FOR EACH TURNOVER, WITH THE STANDARD MARGIN FOR ARRIVAL DISTANCE.

  Rotten as he felt, Tavoian had no doubts that he could take three gees for twelve minutes. “Prepare to execute that solution. Program the torps accordingly. Display the approach profile.”

  The approach profile appeared on the screen wall, and Tavoian immediately began to study it. He almost swallowed when he saw the distances. When Recon three released torps, they’d be less than seven thousand kays from the target, and the torps would be traveling almost twenty-two kps, fast enough to cover the distance in roughly five minutes. While that sounded incredibly fast, defensive fire-control systems operated in nanoseconds, and they likely had Recon three already in their system.

  There wasn’t anything he could do about that, and the AI’s solution would give the torps far more velocity—and less reaction time for the Sinese—than his own would have. The plain fact was that he didn’t have anywhere else to go and the Sinese would likely target him as he approached Donovan Base if they could. So his only choice was to take them out first. If you can.

  After a time of trying to think of a better way to handle things, he thought he dozed, but he wasn’t certain. Then, slowly, he became aware that he was sweating more, flushing, and that his stomach was getting uneasy. “Current CO2 level.”

  THE CURRENT CO2 LEVEL IS SIX POINT EIGHT.

  He checked the time—1736 UTC—still almost an hour before commencing the attack on the Sinese ships and then beginning decel. Another thought struck him. Why hadn’t he heard anything from the colonel?