Solar Express

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Because the Sinese ships are in an ideal position to intercept anything sent from Donovan Base to you. There was also the fact that even if the Sinese couldn’t break the encryption, the direction of the transmission might call attention—or greater attention—to Recon three. That suggested that, first, the colonel was putting a great deal of faith in Tavoian and, second, that the colonel didn’t have many options. It also explained why he hadn’t gotten any more messages from anyone.

  “Is there any change in the position or actions of the Sinese ships?”

  THE SINESE SHIPS REMAIN IN POSITION. THE DAMAGED VESSEL IS NO LONGER ACTIVELY RADIATING HEAT OR ENERGY. ITS HULL IS COOLING.

  “Can you detect communications?”

  THERE HAVE BEEN NO DETECTABLE TRANSMISSIONS.

  All that meant was that no transmissions had been directed anywhere in Recon three’s general area. There was no way that the AI could detect a tight burst beam to or from the ships, not from Earth or near-Earth orbit installations.

  After what felt like an hour of checking the monitors he looked at the time readout—1751 UTC.

  His headache was worse, and he felt even hotter, although he was shivering. Time for remedial measures. He pushed himself away from the control couch and then pulled himself down to the locker beside the inner airlock door. It seemed to take forever to get into the emergency space suit, but he was finally suited up, except for the helmet. He pull-floated himself forward to the control area.

  Because he was feeling even more light-headed, he asked, “Interrogative CO2 level?”

  CO2 LEVEL IS SIX POINT NINE PERCENT.

  Tavoian decided not to wait any longer. He turned on the suit’s air supply and donned the helmet. Within minutes, or so it seemed, the light-headedness vanished, and some of the uneasiness in his guts subsided. Except, when he checked the time, it was 1810 UTC.

  He shivered. Closer than you thought. “Time to turnover.”

  EIGHT MINUTES TO COMMENCING TURNOVER.

  Nineteen minutes to releasing torps. “Status of Sinese ships?”

  STATUS AND POSITION ARE UNCHANGED.

  Something about that bothered Tavoian. Why hadn’t the undamaged ship moved? Or were they still trying to rescue the crew of the damaged ship? He couldn’t say he liked what he’d done or what he was about to do … but with the Sinese threatening to destroy all the L1 facilities if any ship so much as moved, he didn’t see that he had any real options. And with the CO2 toxicity problems, and the lack of Hel3, he also couldn’t afford to wait around to see what was happening. He was literally running out of air, time, and fuel.

  “Combat screens.” Even with a clearer head, Tavoian had to concentrate on the screens arrayed before him, even though the AI was directing the attack as programmed. The target, the still-functioning Sinese ship, was almost dead ahead—zero zero one relative.

  Each second felt like a minute to Tavoian as he watched the screens. At 1818 UTC, the AI announced, COMMENCING TURNOVER.

  And there was still no movement of either Sinese ship. Surely, they must have detected Recon three. How could they not, with all the energy expended in deceleration over the past hours?

  ORIENTED ON TARGET. REQUEST OVERRIDE AND CODE.

  “‘What hand or eye could frame’ … Code Ultra.”

  TORPS AWAY. ON TARGET.

  The two torps were no sooner away from Recon three than the AI declared, COMMENCING TURNOVER.

  As the ship shifted for the final deceleration, Tavoian continued to watch the combat screens, expecting some sort of reaction from the Sinese ships, but nothing occurred. He could see the torps streaking toward the larger ship, except that the screens just showed two points of light moving toward a larger point of light.

  The minutes passed while the AI reoriented the ship. The torps closed, then touched the larger point of light. He expected something—a flare, a flash of light—but there was nothing. All three points of light vanished.

  TARGET SUCCESSFULLY DESTROYED. Just like that … two huge, at least by human standards, ships just gone, shredded by debris and two not terribly powerful torps. Except they were moving at twenty-two kps.

  TURNOVER AND ORIENTATION COMPLETE. COMMENCING DECELERATION.

  The gee force began to build, and build, pressing Tavoian back into the couch. Even with the better air from the emergency suit, he felt as though he struggled to take each breath, that each inhalation was an effort, and that he had to force the air back out of his lungs.

  Tavoian felt like the deceleration lasted forever … and then it was gone.

  DECELERATION ENDED EARLY. WILL RESUME IN THREE MINUTES FOR ONE MINUTE.

  “Why?”

  THERE WAS EXCESSIVE DISTANCE TO DONOVAN BASE. THE BASE WAS NOT WHERE IT WAS BEFORE.

  Not where it was before? Tavoian smiled. Trust the colonel to try something. The Sinese had said no ship could leave, but they hadn’t thought about the base moving. But what good would that do?

  “Is the base where the storage station was, and the storage station where the base was? With dummy ships locked to the storage station?” Tavoian was guessing.

  AFFIRMATIVE.

  “But how did…?”

  The AI did not reply. Tavoian had not framed a complete question because there were too many unknowns … and he was still thinking about the Sinese ships.

  COMMENCING DECELERATION.

  Tavoian doubted that the final decel lasted even a minute.

  NEARING DONOVAN BASE.

  Tavoian cleared his throat, then keyed the suit into the comm system. “Donovan ops, Recon three. Request immediate docking assignment.”

  “Three, opscon. Request you stand by.”

  “Opscon, request immediate docking assignment. Ship’s atmosphere toxic. Space suit running low on air.”

  “Three, wait one.”

  Another voice broke in, the voice hard and cold. “Opscon, Anson here. Clear lock five. Clear it now.”

  “Yes, sir.” After a pause, opscon continued. “It will be just a minute or two, three. That’s as fast as we can clear. Proceed to lock five and stand off until it is clear.”

  “Opscon, proceeding to lock five.” Tavoian turned the ship back to the AI, certain that it would be more deft than he would be in locking in.

  The two minutes turned into five before the space tug locked there moved away.

  As soon as Tavoian felt the ship settle into the grapples, he began to move toward the airlock. He had the inner hatch open when the AI declared, SHIP DOCKED AND SECURE.

  “Open the outer lock and commence shutdown.” Theoretically, Tavoian was supposed to do that, but there were times when “supposed to” just wasn’t suitable or appropriate.

  As soon as the outer lock opened, and Tavoian saw the two uniformed spacers standing outside in the docking corridor, he stepped through the lock, then unlatched the space suit helmet and took it off.

  He took a deep breath of the station air … and everything went black.

  89

  HOTNEWS!

  6 DECEMBER 2114

  [Image Deleted For Off-Earth Transmission]

  Sinese dreadnoughts smashed by high-speed meteorites? Or by a Noram or Indian mystery weapon? Early this morning the Sinese Defense Ministry declared that its ships had been attacked in an unprovoked fashion by ultra-high-speed missiles. They’re accusing Noram of secretly militarizing space. Seems like the Sinese wanted their military ships to be the only ones out there. They’ve also accused the Noram research ship that returned from a Solar Express mission of using those mystery missiles. Acting DOEA Secretary Correia denied the charge and offered to have a multi-nation team inspect the battered fusionjet that barely escaped the sun’s gravity and the explosion that claimed the Sinese research ship. Maybe the Sinese are mad that the smaller Noram ship made it back and their big monster didn’t.

  [Image Deleted]

  The power’s back on in Beijing … and Sinese Head of State Qining is nowhere to be found. No one’s talking. Not abou
t the ten scattered deep craters in various parts of China, or about the mysterious illness—that’s the polite term—that led to the death of Defense Minister Wu Gong. Space Minister Wong Mengyi is acting head of state. That’s because he’s the only minister anyone could find. He’s declared loudly and publicly that he will not retain the post. He’s also denied knowing anything about that secret asteroid base where those not-so-dreadful dreadnoughts were built. Maybe he doesn’t want to be the next victim of Indra-cide.

  [Image Deleted]

  Vistaar Limited plans a realie based on the Solar Express! That’s the word out of Mumbai, less than a week after the catastrophic coronal mass ejection that crippled the world’s power grids and transmission facilities. The as-yet untitled realie will be “a cross between Veda and Nova!, with shades of Alone in the Void,” according to chief exec Amir Lagaash.

  [Image Deleted]

  When it rains, it pours … No! Deluges are cascading down on the British Isles. Forecasters say they won’t stop for days. The Thames is over its banks—again—in London and there are no banks downstream, nothing but water and more water. No operating banks of the other kind upstream, either. Between the solar superstorm and the weather not much of anything is operating in England. But has it been lately, anyway?

  [Image Deleted]

  Disasters are great business! Paramount Realies has jumped into the solar fire. Yes, the third oldest entertainment producer is going to do its version of the Solar Excess, pardon us, the Solar Express. Working title of this all-too-realie? We’ve heard Deathstar Extreme, Alien Annihilation, and Sunstorm. Let’s hope the realie’s better.

  90

  DONOVAN BASE

  6 DECEMBER 2114

  Tavoian was drowning, struggling trying to swim up toward the surface, but that shiny surface where there was air kept retreating … no matter how much he tried …

  Suddenly, he was awake … sweating, lying on a bed, wearing only his underclothes. As he sat up, he looked around, but there was little to see in the small chamber, except the bed, a chair, a side table, and a clothes locker. The bulkheads and overheads of pale blue meant he was indeed inside Donovan Base. At least, Donovan Base was the only off-Earth station he’d been where pale blue was used.

  Within moments, a spacer3 appeared, carrying a tray. Tavoian didn’t recognize the man, who smiled as he set down the tray on the table. “Good morning, Major. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, thank you,” replied Tavoian automatically, before he realized that he didn’t feel anything of the sort. His head still throbbed, and his entire body ached. “Not as well as I’d like,” he added.

  “That’s not surprising, sir. Dr. Cattertyn will be here in a few minutes. She thought you might feel better if you had something to eat and drink. If you need to wash up, the facilities are in the next compartment.”

  Tavoian realized, belatedly, that he wasn’t weightless, but that the gravity was less than that of the main levels of the base. “Low gee?”

  “Yes, sir. If you’d excuse me, sir.”

  Tavoian smiled. “Don’t let me keep you. Thank you.” He moved to the table and moved the chair into place before sitting down. His entire body was sore. Just from twelve minutes or so of three gees?

  The breakfast wasn’t remarkable—scrambled eggs with cheese, something that resembled and tasted like ham but probably wasn’t, sliced fresh tomatoes, toast and marmalade, and a pot of steaming hot tea. Tavoian ate it all.

  He was thinking about seeing if he had any clean uniforms or the like and then taking a shower or washing up when the door to his small quarters opened and a lanky, gray-haired woman with the collar insignia of the medical corps and the gold eagles of a light colonel stepped inside, gently closing the door behind her.

  Before Tavoian could say a word, she gestured for him to remain seated. “You gave us a bit of a scare, Major.”

  “I gave myself a bit of one, sir,” Tavoian replied.

  “Did you report the correct CO2 levels?”

  Tavoian frowned. “I reported the levels that the ship’s indicators showed.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “Weren’t they reading correctly?”

  “We don’t think so. They may have been reading a percent too low. That’s what the preliminary tests show. That wouldn’t make much of a difference in regular operations, but…” Cattertyn shook her head. “We’ll need to do some tests on you.”

  “To see if I suffered brain damage?”

  “It doesn’t seem likely, but under the conditions…”

  “You’d like to make sure. Why the low-grav quarters?”

  “You need some gravity, but we didn’t want to stress your system. We’ll need to increase that gradually.”

  “How gradually?”

  “That depends on the results of the tests.”

  “Do you know if we’re on restricted comm now?”

  “No. We’re under regular screening. Nothing special.”

  “I’d like to see any messages and send some.”

  The doctor smiled. “I’ll have Salazar bring you a terminal. Right now, I’d like you to stay on this level. I’ve already sent him to get a clean shipsuit for you, and a few other things. Your personal gear is in the locker. When you get cleaned up, I’ll be back to run over the tests with you.” She rose.

  The spacer3 returned within minutes after the doctor left, bringing a terminal and one of Tavoian’s shipsuits and clean underclothing, and taking away the breakfast tray on his way out.

  The shower, shaving, and clean clothing helped, although Tavoian still had a slight headache when he sat back down at the side table and called up his messages on the terminal.

  There was only one, and that was from Kit. For a moment, he was disappointed that there wasn’t one from Alayna—until he remembered that she’d sent him the one telling him to take care just the day before. How could you forget that?

  After a moment, he decided that he hadn’t so much forgotten as wanted another message from her, and the best way was to send her one.

  Dear Alayna—

  I’m back at base now, and apparently whole, but somewhat the worse for wear, since my atmosphere system decided to stop removing CO2, and I spent the last several hours in a space suit, during which times circumstances required that I make a higher than normal gee-force deceleration. I’ve got to go through some medical tests before they tell me how soon I’m returning to duty, but it’s pretty certain I will … I just don’t know exactly when.

  Tavoian hoped he wasn’t stretching the truth there, but despite the lingering headache, he didn’t feel all that bad. Especially after all that happened.

  I can’t tell you how much your last message meant to me, but I hope I’ll be able to in person, and I can only hope that it won’t be as long as since I last saw you, but with the unsettled state of events … who can tell? I’d like to say more, but I need to get those tests, and I wanted to let you know that I was back … and that I wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been for you.

  My hopes that you’ve made great progress with the multi-fractals and the mysterious documents. More later.

  Once he sent his reply, he read Kit’s message.

  Dear Chris,

  I know I should wait like a good big sister. But it’s been almost a week, and I’ve heard nothing from you. I worry. I’m just hoping that you’re fine, but not in a place where you can reply.

  Despite the power system going down, the solar cells, the ground tap, and the wind generator have kept the house here in good shape, and there’s even a comm system with satlinks, that works most of the time, although I have no idea why one works here and not in Salt Lake …

  Tavoian closed the message at the knock on the door. “Yes? Come in.”

  Colonel Cattertyn entered, followed by Spacer3 Salazar, who pushed a small console on wheels.

  “Ready for some tests, Major?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “I d
oubt that.” Her words were dry.

  First came a thorough physical examination, including the drawing of blood, then inhaling and exhaling into a face mask, followed by several minutes of breathing oxygen and then exhaling. After the physical examination came questions, verbal word puzzles, mental mathematics, and various memory tests.

  Less than five minutes after the doctor had left, the door opened, and Colonel Anson walked in.

  “Sir.” Tavoian immediately stood.

  “At ease, Major. Dr. Cattertyn says that there are no signs of permanent damage. Your system will need some readjusting to gravity. We’ll talk about that in a minute. I have my own ideas, but what happened to those Sinese ships?”

  “They were hit by high-speed space debris.” Tavoian paused. “It might be better said that way. I was short on Hel3. It struck me that the less mass was in the ship, the longer the fuel would last. So I tossed out everything that was either broken or not of further use before we entered the second decel—”

  “What was your speed at that point?”

  “Eighty kays per second.”

  “So … did you have any idea that any Sinese ships were nearby?”

  Tavoian knew what the colonel wanted. He wouldn’t go that far. “I knew there were Sinese ships near L1, but the way I jettisoned the excess equipment was designed to avoid the L1 installations.” Which it was. “I had so little Hel3 remaining that I couldn’t make any major course changes.”

  The colonel nodded. “That’s perfectly understandable. The fact that nothing hit any L1 installation shows just how accurate you were under very stressful circumstances. The data and images you brought back will prove invaluable.”

  “I doubt it, sir.”

  “Oh?”

  “The only thing that all the data, observations, and images will show is that it is theoretically possible to design a starship with an almost impregnable hull out of common materials reconfigured on the hadronic level in a way we know nothing about, powered by a technology we can’t even guess at. With the only hard physical evidence being a 38 millimeter chunk of an impregnable substance, I have my doubts how invaluable what I did was.”