by Baen Books
He realized it was Astrogator Marie Duval in Docking Control. His estranged daughter-in-law by the son of his estranged wife. His wife and son were both back on Earth, just not the type for space. Marie had stayed.
A vessel? Not from the point?
"Human?" he asked as he started swimming that way, grabbing a loop on the cable that wound endlessly between hub and DC, as a cheap elevator.
She said, "Yes, it seems to be. Forceline propulsion, but tiny."
"Phase drive for interstellar, then?"
She replied, "No indication of that, no."
"I'm on my way across," he said. Centrifugal G increased as he was pulled outward.
He needed to see it. He worried without a conclusion until he arrived, pulled himself through the hatch, and looked at the monitors.
There it was, tiny and dark.
Marie said, "I tightbeamed them, sir. No response. Should I try laser?"
"Go ahead. How far are they?"
"Six light seconds. We saw them about six and a half."
That was close. No one had seen them until now?
A minute later she said, "Laser response, sir."
The audio said, "We are a private ship, offering trade."
Jackson responded with, "Approaching ship, be aware our docking facilities are compromised and unsafe. You cannot dock directly. Who are you and what are you offering?"
"We will avoid the dock tube. Please stand by for our arrival."
He shrugged. "Well, they're human, and talking. I can't imagine anyone wants to hijack this place."
Duval said, "That is a warship, though, sir."
"Based on the stealth?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir. It's stealthed stupid. No one tries to stay hidden in space without a reason."
"You're correct, but we can't do much. Prepare to zip a request to Space Guard if we have to."
"It's already queued, sir. The ship will be here in under an hour. Space Guard is at least four hours away after we call."
"Understood. I'll wait here for any updates." They could call him, but he wanted to show his support, and it would be faster if he could see screens directly. He made himself some coffee and found the cookie stash. The chairs were good, this being one of the few places with decent G levels. They were half a century old, repaired multiple times to avoid excess costs.
It was definitely a human ship, and it maneuvered in slowly. It had to have been en route at low thrust for a long time, or the energy signature would have shown.
It had no markings, no IFF. Active radar and other scans showed almost nothing, just bare ghosts. It was a hole in space as far as sensors were concerned.
It moved in almost to contact, then opened a hatch, deployed a line, and tethered to the base of the dock assembly. Three figures came out in V-suits, entered the maintenance lock and cycled through.
Jackson and Nicol had time to get placed to greet whoever it was, and four security personnel stood at angles with shotguns. "Stood" in near zero G by hooking to stanchions. It didn't seem there'd be need, but there was no proof there wouldn't be.
It was cold in the terminal. There was no reason to heat it, with no ships inbound.
The lock unlatched and swung. The three inside were youngish, fit, definitely human, and unarmed. They doffed helmets.
The woman in front said, "Greetings. First Minister Bates? I'm pleased to meet you and apologize for the circumstances. I'm Dr. Hazel Donahey. This is Dr. Andrew Tyson and Assistant True Hively."
"Doctor," he agreed and shook hands. "This is my executive, Dr. Nicol Cante." If they were going to use titles, so was he.
He asked, "What can I do for you?"
Dr. Donahey said, "We need a research base for stellar and deep space observations. You have a habitat that's unfortunately rather quiet, but that suits our needs." She didn't look threatening, and certainly could be an academic. Space-short hair, no jewelry, no wasted movement.
He wanted to accuse them of being vultures, but he didn't have a great bargaining position.
He said, "It is quiet, and I wish it wasn't. I regret that I don't even have functional facilities anymore."
Donahey said, "Our budget isn't large, but is underwritten, and we can provide a certain amount of oxygen, food and power beyond our own needs. We'll also have available people with technical training to assist in overhaul."
So what did they want?
"You said you need observations?" He gestured for them to follow. There was no imminent threat, and there were frames at the edge of the bay.
She spoke as they pulled themselves along. "Yes. Sol is unique in many ways, including the still-elusive intelligent life. There are several competing theories on its stellar development. Then, drive research is notably concerned with terminal effects around jump points. The deep space, but still heliospace is critical, and again, this is a very convenient place to operate from."
Nicol asked, "Why not just use a leased liner? And who do you represent?" She draped across a frame with the casual sprawl of someone who had spent years in space.
"Liners have tremendous operating costs. We're from Brandt's research arm. We are strictly private."
He said, "And we're supposed to overlook that Brandt is based in Grainne, the UN has occupied your system, and you're magically here near a jump point for 'observations'?"
Donahey shrugged and tucked into the frame, as did her assistants. "Science is about knowledge, sir. This is a project we've worked on for a long time. I can make the data files available if you wish. We were using a remote site in Salin, but there's a significant difference in stellar environments between a K Three and a G Two star."
He hung from one stanchion, just to have some sort of base. He noted Nicol wasn't in the same orientation as the rest. She liked to get angled views on things to spot discrepancies.
On the one hand he wanted to believe them. On the other, they had a stealth ship, probably military. On the other, he really owed nothing to Earth at this point. They'd tried everything they could to kill his family's dream. On the other, there was a difference between not owing Earth and assisting possible espionage. On yet another hand, he needed operating cash even if he was shutting down, and the food and oxy they promised would close out two costs on his accounts.
"Let's go to my office," he said.
They were experienced spacers. They followed easily in low and no G. Everyone was quiet on the trolley, and he was embarrassed at the worn, out-of-date seating. He was glad to get to his office. That wasn't more than a decade out-of-date, and it had enough G.
He offered his restroom so they could change into shipsuits and shlippers instead of V-suits and grips.
When they came back in coveralls, he asked, "May I get you anything? Hard or soft."
"Hot tea with lemon would be very nice," Dr. Donahey said.
"Two."
"Three, please."
He nodded. Even a short EVA could be cold out here. The terminal wasn't kept warm anymore either, relying on waste heat from equipment to heat it and now the equipment wasn't in use.
"Tea all around, and drinks later, please, Frank," he said to his grandson, the Factotum On Duty. That was a fancy title for "gopher." Though they did more than just gophering.
His title of First Minister was a fancy way of saying, "owner." It just gave a political spin. In reality, his leadership was smaller than any but the tiniest rural villages on Earth. But the volume of nothing he commanded . . .
"You do understand I'm nervous, with the war on," he said.
Donahey said, "Understandable. If you prefer, we can negotiate with Earth and occupy after you leave. The only problem is it would take several months to get approval, but since we're a recognized research institute, there's no real problem. And of course, you wouldn't be benefitting."
Yeah, there was that. Everyone had plans for the station, when he finally left. It made him stubborn.
Frank brought back the tea, and he took the moment it was being served
to signal to Nicol, who asked, "So what do you think of Carnahan's hypothesis on jump point eddy currents during the reset phase?"
Donahey said, "That's more Andy's area."
Andrew Tyson said, "Bluntly, the man's deluding himself. Those currents occurred twice, during a specific combination of ship and point, and similar but far smaller effects were identified with the same class ship in an earlier generation of the same point mechanism. It's purely an artifact of circumstance, not a general effect. But that is the sort of thing we want to test."
Nicol nodded and asked, "What was the Delta X on that ship?"
"Well, it was forceline propulsion, so the Delta X was almost entirely within the hull. Induction field harmonics are more important, and it was under a k-value of six."
"Fair enough," Nicol said. "So you at least understand physics. Would you mind if I observed your findings?"
"By all means," Donahey said. "We'd want an NDA for discretion, but you're quite welcome to observe the process."
Jackson caught Nicol's signal back.
So, they were legitimate, just here in odd circumstances.
"What do you need and what specifically are you offering?"
Donahey said, "We'd need lodging for ourselves—there are twelve—and boat crews as they come through. We'd need access to two divergent points—the end of the dock assembly, and the antipodean point on the outside. We'll be occasionally pulling a lot of power from your reactor. We'll make up the mass."
"And what do we get?"
"Oxygen, food, fuel, metals and organics. Everything a small habitat needs, since we need it functional too. We assumed occupancy and support for a hundred."
Jackson thought about asking for money, too, but that really was a generous offer. It was twice current crewing level, so should last a bit. He hated being forced to take it, though.
"Our docking gantry is no longer axial, and in danger of catastrophic failure from oscillations," he admitted.
The three looked at each other and seemed to swap expressions.
True Hively said, "I should be able to coordinate that. It's a significant amount of reaction mass and maneuvering engine, though."
Donahey said, "We'd consider that our top offer."
Really, it was fair, in that Starhome would remain functional for as long as this took, and docking facilities would be back online.
It wasn't fair in that it only prolonged the inevitable.
Since he'd be returning to Earth's economy even on Titan, and taxed again, he wondered what kind of write off he could get for donating the rock to them.
"How long is the project?"
Donahey said, "Our current funding allows seventeen months."
"Deal," he said.
It gave everyone seventeen more months of employment and distance from Earth. He'd have to keep paying them from shrinking capital, but he wouldn't have to turn them out.
Donahey said, "Then we'll return to our ship, and arrange to move into your ante section, as you called it. Thank you very much for your hospitality. And you, Dr. Cante."
Right after the visitors were escorted out, he got notice of an incoming transmission from Space Guard. It was an offer to evacuate his people now, pending acceptance of . . .
"Nicol, do we have some sort of demand from the UN?"
"It just came in," she said. "Apparently these idiots can't even coordinate their own memos."
"What is it?"
"It's a salvage price offer to buy you out and relocate us."
"Bastards."
He took a moment to calm himself, and said, "I wonder if Prescot will pick up my request. It seems like the scavengers aren't even waiting for us to die."
#
The scientists and crew started moving stuff at once. They had supplies for themselves, crates of technical gear. They took accommodations in the other privately owned lodging Starhome had already sealed off, and brought it back online themselves. Their ship transferred reactor fuel cells.
They double sealed the passages to that section by physically locking airtight hatches. They requested no one approach the ante pole during outside maintenance, either.
"We can do that for you," True Hively said. "Our sensors are easily disrupted."
A week later, a freighter arrived with cargo pods of oxygen, food and attitude engines. It was good to look out his office ports and see a ship again. Even only one ship. It approached in a long arc to dockside only, which was costly in fuel.
"I don't like it," Nicol said.
Jackson said, "It's all from Govannon, and all properly marked. Legitimately purchased."
"Yes, and I suppose they may have phase drive to explain how they came in the back way. You haven't asked about that."
"I haven't," he agreed. "I wanted to see if the deal was real, and if it would help. We have a year and a half to hope things turn around, or to withdraw in stages."
She said, "I'm still bothered by a heavily stealthed boat from deep space, and the lack of advance notice. So is Marie. They really don't want to be seen."
"Their credentials checked out with Brandt, didn't they?"
"They did," she admitted. "Then I messaged my friend Travis in R and D over there. He's never heard of them. Corporate says they're legit. Operations isn't aware."
"I suppose it was classified research."
She said, "And if so, it was for Grainne . . . who we are now at war with."
"We are? Earth is. We're neutral."
She said, firmly, "Boss, neutral status goes away if you aid a hostile power."
"Have they done anything illicit?"
"No. They really are making solar observations, but you realize they could be tracking ships, habitats, commo and anything else as well, right? They're in-system, with shaky credentials and sensors that can image fireflies in Iowa from here."
Jackson was enjoying really good French bread, baked by his staff using wheat that came in aboard the researchers' supply ship.
He checked off points. "Grainne's jump point with Earth is down. No one is going to let them jump warships around. They had phase drive of course, since Brandt is located there, but only a few ships. They can't stage an attack here, they no longer exist as an independent system. Even if these people are spying, it's not going to do any good."
Nicol said, "I more wonder if they contracted to NovRos or even the Prescots. The UN is building infrastructure everywhere against other independence movements. The Colonial Alliance can't do anything the UN doesn't want to allow. It's more likely corporate or political espionage than military."
"Exactly."
She said, "Either way, we'd still wind up in jail for life for helping. Even if they've locked us out of our own habitat, we can't claim we didn't know."
"Do you want out?" he asked. This was important.
She shook her head. "No, Boss, I'll stay. I'm curious. I just wanted to make sure you realized the risks."
"Always," he said.
She said, "At least I have work again, monitoring our guests. They pass down the axis daily and are making observations. I'd sure like to see their other end, though."
"Have they furnished the data for you to review?" he asked.
"They have. It's too detailed and esoteric for my skillset, but looks real, and even if I understood it, I'm holding with the NDA unless it's relevant to our safety."
"Well done, thank you."
He couldn't run the place without her.
#
The next ship was a week later, with more supplies and more personnel. They graciously offered other upgrades, those sponsored by Prescot Deep Space in Govannon. It irritated Jackson more. Prescot had refused a previous deal, hadn't responded to his new one, but were willing to send stuff if someone else paid for it. That defined his status.
The station rumbled with the low hum of reaction engines nudging it back into alignment, with a promise that the docks could reopen in less than two weeks. Assuming, of course, there were any other ships.
> Dr. Donahey visited his office every two or three days. She was on the schedule for today.
"Good morning, Jackson," she said on arriving. He'd been clear he was not "Sir" or "First Minister."
"Good morning, Hazel." He pointed to the tea.
"Thank you," she said and took a cup. "I just came back from the sensors at the end of the docking tube, and checked with True on my way. Did you see your terminal should be online next week?"
"I did," he said. "I appreciate it greatly, even if we never get to use it. At least we won't be abandoning the place."
"I like it," she said. "It's old, but has character. Have you thought of asking Prescot if they could use it?"
"I have. They're not interested."
"That's odd," she said. "I thought they'd find it useful, especially as they built it originally."
She seemed bothered.
He asked, "Can you tell me about your project? I'm an educated layman."
She took a deep breath and said, "Well, we're working on several things. In my case, we're watching the chromosphere currents and variable fluctuations of the Sun, and running hefty simulations backward on how it was at the time life first evolved, and the varying radiation there would have been. That's to see if any of it might be significant to stages of the evolution of life. So far, we've found lots of habitable planets to terraform, a handful with their own life, and few that have any advanced organisms. Any number of factors could affect it. So I'm a physicist, dealing with life scientists. Mine is all 'how?', theirs is all 'what if?'"
"What cycles are you tracking?" he asked, and had some tea. That was an expensive import here, too.
"Milankovitch, Rujuwa, the neutrino flux variation, among others."
"Interesting. Are you religious at all, Hazel?"
She shook her head. "Not at all, but I would enjoy exploring outside influence on it all, if there was any way to determine its existence. Are you?"
"No, but I often wonder."
"That seems to be human nature—and how the supernatural came to be created. Humans recognized a pattern, couldn't find a reason for it, so created one."
"How is Andy doing on his projects?"
"He has a lot of people building processors and setting sensors. Still. What he's looking for is very subtle, and it's annoying having to work around it. That's why we sealed the entire ante third of the station."