“Refueling might not be an issue at this point,” Danel said. “Maybe it’s time to consider the mission should be over.”
“Is not within my authority to make such declaration. Only commander can void charter,” Rocky said, an edge of irritation sharpening her tone. She realized that she had to be careful with how she voiced her feelings. We are all tired. I must be gentle.
“We could cable to a pod and then jerk-snap the rack,” Seva said.
“Are you nuts?” Cori asked.
“Probably, but we used to do it all the time to get parts unstuck at the Ceres Alpha Shipyard,” she said. “My crew chief was a crotchbrain, so he assigned me unloading duty most days. I had to break shit all the time.”
“You mean like workpods?” Kiro asked.
“Nah, you tie off to the support strut at the bottom of the egress hatch and you’re fine. It’s a little hard on the driver, but nothing I can’t deal with.”
“You’re sure we can’t leave it?” Cori asked.
“You snoozed the part where he said we’re going to lose the TICS,” Seva said, shaking her head and poking him in the arm with a finger.
“I got that, but I missed when anybody said it was going to happen again.”
“Is valid point,” Rocky said. “However, until science types can tell us what is happening, I think is not worth risk.” She stood up and walked across the deck, rubbing her chin in a subconscious imitation of what she’d seen Jeph do when he was making tough decisions. She stopped in front of the screen that would normally show Dutch’s status. It was dark.
“Do you think you can do?” she asked, turning to face Seva.
“Ja,” she said. “Would be smart to have second workpod on standby, in case the cable snaps. And a set of eyes on an optic to make sure I don’t yank it too far. I think it would be better than fragging the last arm.”
Rocky nodded. “When done here, you may proceed. Crewman …” She paused and chose to drop the formality with a conscious effort. “Chei can be eyes, and Cori on high guard. Is satisfactory?”
They all nodded.
“Next priority is life support,” she said as she walked over to the VAT. She wanted, no she needed, a hardball but she thought better of it. Supplies might be limited.
“Recyclers and post production processors are all operating,” Cori said. “Protein vats and organic beds all seem to be fine too, but we lost several weeks’ worth of growth. With the stores on hand, we’ve got about another two weeks of food. We’ll be tight, but we won’t starve. At least nothing else was lost in round two.”
“Is food production restarted?” she asked.
“It’s a mess down there. It’ll be a half day of cleanup before I can get it ready,” he said, shrugging.
“If it happens again, will we be starting over, again?” Danel asked.
“If it comes from the same direction, no. The hardware’s designed to take a little lateral sloshing, but if we can keep most of the impact directed toward the floor it’ll be like normal acceleration and then we’re good.”
“Excellent.” she said. “When racks finished, three of you can work on together, yes?”
They all nodded again. Less enthusiastically.
“Now, to big problem,” she said, pushing herself by force away from the VAT. “Computer’s quantum core shut down during second event. Was seventy-five percent through reinitialization when process halted. I initiated another restore, however will be at least eighteen hours before system is operational.”
“What can we do while it’s down?” Seva asked.
“Not fragging much,” Kiro said.
“Is essentially true,” the engineer confirmed. “Sensors, automated ship systems, and long-range communications are routed through core. Without computer, systems have only minimal functionality.”
“If com is down, you’re saying we can’t send a distress signal?” Danel asked.
“Correct,” she confirmed. “Alternate system does not have sufficient power or access to directional antenna.”
“Why would they design a ship without a backup com system?” Chei asked.
“Pretty much all ships operate in the down-system,” Kiro explained. “Anywhere near Saturn and inside Jupiter’s orbit, short-range com can reach a repeater. Even a suit radio can hit a bounce station in the belt. There’s no need to have a secondary high-power transmitter when a low-power one does the job.”
“We are currently 3.2 billion kilometers from Saturn. Is nearest inhabited place,” Rocky said. “We are more than twice as far from Saturn, as Saturn is from sun.”
“Is there a workaround?” Danel asked, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.
“Could be done, but would require substantial reconfiguration of systems,” Rocky said. “Would take more time than restoring computer from backup.”
“Dutch is also the primary sensor interface and backup navigator,” Kiro said. “I don’t know, since I’m not a wirehead, but I’d bet if we severed the core from the NavCom grid to restore com, we’d be cutting those systems off too.”
Rocky nodded. “Is essentially correct.”
“So we can’t call for help, and we can’t see what hit us, and we can’t get out of the way of anything else coming at us,” Danel said.
“I can still maneuver the ship,” Kiro said. “We have proximity radar and optics, so as long as I stare at the screen, I can keep us from banging into things. It’s getting us home without a navigator that’s nogo.”
Earthward Promenade: Galileo Station: Lunar Lagrange One:
Chancellor Roja strolled along the walkway of the Earthward Promenade trying to just breathe some air and not think. It was quiet. Most of the families had gone home and only a few of the shops were still open, so she’d ordered her security entourage to maintain a wide margin. It was a luxury she only had late at night since the announcement of the SDS. There was always a press of bodies needing her attention or wanting to get a comment and she hated it.
Tonight though, there was a stillness that almost felt like what she remembered of the soft air that hung along the ocean above the ruins of Victoria, Canada. The locals had called it ‘the calm before the storm.’
She visited Vancouver Island on leave once and toured what was left of the city of Old Victoria before the hurricane of 2215 had taken the last of it. The thing she remembered most was how the air felt. Sometimes, when no one was around, she could imagine the promenade on Galileo almost had that same hanging silence in the air. It was probably nowhere near close, but the memory filled in the gaps and she rode the sensation as she drifted in the direction of her residence.
Footsteps approached from behind her. Hard soled shoes, with a slight drag on one heel. She didn’t turn. It was Arun. He’d been trying to get a com to her all evening. She stopped and hung her head, letting out a slow breath.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked as he stepped up beside her.
“I have been trying to talk to you all afternoon,” he said.
“I know,” she said, nodding toward a bench near a cluster of Areca palms and hidden behind a gurgling fountain. It would give them a little privacy, but not enough to invite a long conversation. She nodded at her security escort and gave the signal to keep their distance.
“Maybe you should look into the Jakob Waltz,” he said, taking a seat beside her. He stared at the grass covered deck in front of them.
“What is the Jakob Waltz?” she asked.
“The Waltz is a unique little project we are running in cooperation with SourceCartel. It is an ice harvester,” he said.
“Tell me why I care about an icebarge?”
“It’s not an icebarge.” He pulled a thinpad from his pocket and looked at the data on the screen. “What makes it interesting is that you’ve got a command crew sitting on top of something you might want to know about.”
She rolled her eyes, but he was still staring down and didn’t see. “I don’t follow.”
�
��I know you are pursuing what we talked about in my office the other day,” he said, glancing up at her.
“Maybe,” she said. “Are you spying on me now?”
He shook his head. “No. Not at all. I just know you are like me and cannot let go of an idea until you are sure you know the facts.” He held his hand up like he was making an oath.
“By now, I am sure you are looking at the idea that someone may be recovering and re-commissioning ships without running them through the recycler,” he said. He was scanning the area across the promenade and speaking in a voice so low she had to struggle to hear him over the fountain. “Once you confirm your suspicions, you will need to determine where they are hiding these ghost ships. I suspect that the Jakob Waltz might have stumbled across that location.”
“Why would you say so?” she asked, leaning forward beside him.
“It logged a Situational Alert several days ago.”
“A Sit-Al?” She shrugged. “That keeps it below the intercartel communications level, so it wouldn’t come to me.”
“Probably not yet,” he agreed.
“Arun, spare me the trouble,” she said. “Why do you think this connects? Where is it?”
“Along the inward edge of the Neptune L-4 Trojan Cluster,” he said, handing her his thinpad. It had a chart of the ship’s location on the screen.
“I know where the Trojan Cluster is,” she said, handing the pad back to him. “But why does this connect to my reality? All I see is a ship with minor operational problems, somewhere way outside the normal lanes. That doesn’t add up to the discovery of a ghost fleet.”
She moved to go, but he stopped her by putting his hand on her knee. When he looked up, his eyes were pleading. “It might not,” he admitted, “but over the last couple decades DevCartel has lost two science probes, and a Sagan Class ship and crew, in the exact same location. The Waltz encountered some kind of problem out there and they are trying to figure out what the hell it is.”
“Let’s assume for the sake of discussion that something is going on. Why that deep? They’d have to have a reason to send old, decrepit ships clear out there.”
“Would you have ever looked for them there?” he asked.
“Good point, I guess,” she said. “Didn’t you say the Jakob Waltz is an ice miner? That would make it a SourceCartel mission charter. If there’s a supply chain hole that is venting operating assets, it would be a SourceCartel bleed. Why would they be sending one of their own ships into the area?”
“Remember that I also said the Waltz is unique,” he said. “Because we bent the charter in our favor, we’ve got an upgraded science and engineering kit on the ship. We needed answers and they might have figured that if they let us ride along, we’d drop it if we didn’t get what we were looking for. The science sensor array is so far above spec they might not realize what it can see.”
“Damn, that sounds risky,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why they would send this miner out there in the first place.”
“Building a ghost fleet doesn’t involve risks?” he challenged. “You know, if they were willing to go that far, there are many other things they’d be willing to do to protect it. They probably assumed that with three assets lost in the area, we would not let it go without answers. If they can give us enough to think there is nothing but ice out there, then we’ll give up and move on.”
“And you think Ariqat is behind this?
“No, he’s only been a chancellor for a couple years,” he said. “The Waltz is four years out. The ship took two years to complete, so the charter is six years old.”
“An icebarge that took two years to build? That must be some ride.”
“The ship was designed for a ten person crew with an operational mission of ten to twelve years. In truth, it is a deep-system explorer as much as an ice hauler. The potential ice earnings are how we got the ship paid for, but the rest is all ours … so to speak,” he said. “There is a lot more to it.”
“Its hold can pack in ten years of harvested ice? How big is this ship?” she asked, frowning and glancing at his screen again. The chart giving the position was still open.
“It’s only forty kilotons,” he said.
“Then the economic value will be nil.”
“It’s an experimental idea and doesn’t actually process ice. It carries racks of engines that they anchor to icebergs. They ship them down intact. As I understand, they’ve already paid their charter out in ice. They’ve completed four payloads so far and shipped something over a hundred cubic kilometers of water.”
“Ok, that’s impressive,” she said, “but let’s get back to why the ghost fleet would be out there. It’s not going to be making money shipping ice.”
“It’s possible they’re doing something else that they need to keep well hidden,” he said, lowering his voice and twisting to look straight at her.
“Like what?”
“Weaponizing the ships they’ve stolen.”
She stared into his eyes for almost a minute, studying his face. He believed what he was saying. “That’s a pretty serious accusation Arun,” she said.
“And it’s a pretty serious risk to even consider stealing that much hardware too,” he said, standing up.
“I’ll look into it,” she said, nodding and watching him as he walked away.
Tana was right, he’s deep down the rabbit hole on this one.
CHAPTER TEN
Jakob Waltz: Neptune L-4 Trojan Cluster:
Jeph tried to sit up, but couldn’t move. He rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side. Grinding agony lanced through his neck and he gasped. His head felt like it was full of rocks and his face covered in wax. He drew his hand up and flinched when he touched his cheek. He could tell he was in a diagnostic chamber in MedBay, anchored to the bed by a loose strap pulled over his chest and another one over his thighs. Uncinching the one from his upper body, he slowly sat up. The room spun nauseatingly, but stabilized again once he quit moving.
His polymorphic exosuit liner squeezed his skin. He realized that was all he wore when he saw his PSE shell hanging on the autovalet beside the bed. He stared at it, trying to remember something important. It refused to come into focus.
“Hello?” he said his voice a dry croak, like he hadn’t spoken in weeks. What happened?
Silence answered him.
“Dutch, where is everybody?”
More silence.
He heard the beeping of the cardio-monitor as his heart ratcheted up. An alarm tone joined the dinging. “Hello?” he hollered. This time his voice sounded more normal.
“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Danel said, appearing in the doorway. “Anju said you might wake up today.”
“Today? What happened?” His mind tried to dig memories out of the fog, but nothing felt more real than a nightmare of tangled flashes. The cardiac alarm screamed as his chest pounded harder. He turned to face the annoying source of the sound. Even twisting slightly brought back the sense of spinning out of control.
“Just relax,” Danel said, reaching up to shut off the warning tone. “You need to breathe and get your bearings. She said you’d be disoriented when you woke up.”
“How long?” Jeph asked.
“Three and a half days,” he said, glancing at the chrono above the heart monitor. “You took a good hit. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. What do you remember?”
The commander closed his eyes and felt the fog reach up to pull him back into its embrace. He shook his head and realized that was the wrong thing to do as flashes of fire tore at his neck and exploded into his skull. “Not much, apparently,” he said after his mind reassembled. He reached up again and prodded gingerly at his cheeks.
“Leave it alone. Your face is pretty swollen. We had to print you new cheekbones and part of the front of your skull,” Danel said. “Looks like the neuroblock is wearing thin. Do you need more for pain?”
“No.” Jeph said, stopping himself
before he shook his head again. A flood of memory roared through his mind. Showers. The wetroom. Blood everywhere. “I need to remember what happened. Are the girls alright?”
Danel’s eyes flashed and he looked away for a second. “Shona is in a regenerative coma, but stable.” He drew his lips into a tight line. “Alyx is still alive, but only because Anju is a miracle worker. She’s still critical, but we’re all hopeful.”
“What about everyone else?” he asked, knowing from a strangely abstract perspective that he couldn’t absorb the emotion of what Danel said.
“Other than the three of you, Anju was the only other injury and she broke her shoulder,” he said. “With one arm out of commission, she nearly burnt out her surgical-arm implant patching the three of you back together. She’d still be working on Alyx and Shona except the buffer caused her to have feedback seizures that forced her to stop.”
“Is the ship alright?” Jeph asked. “Did we hit something?”
“We don’t know for sure,” he said. “We’re thinking it was some kind of shockwave. But it kicked the shit out of us. Sensors are foobed and Dutch is down hard. We’ve been blind and without com since the first shockwaves hit us. Rocky’s been building work-arounds trying to get the transmitter online.”
“I need to help,” he said, reaching down to unstrap his legs.
“You might not want to do that,” Danel said, glancing at the chrono again. He reached out and stopped Jeph from undoing the buckle. The commander wouldn’t have had the strength to fight against his endomorph muscles even if he wasn’t weak from being down so long. “We’re almost due for another round and you should be in bed when it happens.”
He snatched his hand out of Danel’s grip and glared. “Another round? What does that mean?”
“Whatever it is, keeps hitting us,” Danel said. “We’ve got about twenty minutes until it happens again.”
“I don’t understand,” Jeph said.
“Neither do we, but every 14 hours, 26 minutes, and 46 seconds it happens again.”
“Where is it coming from?”
Shan Takhu Legacy Box Set - With an Extra Bonus Story Page 9