Battle Luna

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Battle Luna Page 16

by Travis S. Taylor


  Arris said, “Exactly. Which is why it has to be under UN control.”

  No delay again this time. Andre said, “You know that’s crap. When has the UN ever kept a secret from one of the member nations? The primary Security Council did fairly well with nuclear weapons, but once non-power nations got that knowledge, it was pretty well global in short order. Anything we might find here is safer here where none of them can touch it. We have a four-hundred-thousand-kilometer vac gap.”

  “So are you admitting to knowing about this device?”

  Crap. Stop talking. “No, sir, I’m just analyzing a problem you have described. It’s what engineers do.”

  Malakhar was gesturing, and Andre took a look. There were UN troops moving into a formation behind Lock 4. The sensors didn’t give detail, but that was probably a couple of squads.

  “I think they’re going to try a cutting charge,” Malakhar said.

  Andre looked back to the radio as Arris replied, “If you have it you will leak the information. Your leadership has little control over outside data management, with all the contractors and scientists here. The proof of that is that I know about this device that you claim not to.”

  Andre let Arris stew while he looked at the movement on the screen.

  “Laura, Rod, we need to overpressure that as much as we can, so when they open they’re slowed. It will also mean they have to reconfigure their suit pressure.”

  He pinged Control. “I need anyone who you can trust with a lethal weapon right now.”

  Coffman replied, “We have your feed. Colonel Zeiss is already heading that way with Captain Touro and four security.”

  Andre breathed relief and said, “Make sure they hurry.”

  He turned quickly back to the radio and spoke to Arris. “Right, so to prevent us leaking it, you want to take it closer to the people who can exploit and abuse it. Have you considered the logic of that? I think we’re done on this exchange, sir.”

  He clicked the mic off again.

  Turning to Malakhar he said, “Okay, so they’re down to about eighty, and we’ve accounted for forty in the outer tunnel and support around the vehicles, is that correct?”

  Malakhar said, “Yes, that’s correct. Inside there appear to be two clusters. One is right near Lock Four; the other is farther back. They seem to be rotating for oxygen. It looks as if everyone that went outside got food when they did. They also left a huge pile of trash to clean up later. Jackasses.”

  “We still think they’re low on oxy?”

  Rojas said, “Given the bottle exchange rate, and the capacity of the ArctiTraks, I figure they have to be. I don’t think they can last three more hours at a strain, two if they’re smart. If they conclude they can’t secure resources here within an hour, their only logical move is to ask for terms.”

  “Assuming their leadership is logical,” Andre said. “Just because we see it, and even if Arris sees it, doesn’t mean Earth will. In which case he’ll be honor bound to carry through to the end.”

  Godin added, “And when people get desperate bad things happen.”

  Right then, Malakhar sat up and shouted, “Here they come! They’re backing up fast, I think it’s a—”

  There came the muffled thump and tremor of an explosion. This one was smaller and more controlled than the last.

  It was a swarm attack.

  The pressure monitors on the emergency lock indicated an instant drop. The cameras showed Lock 3B dismounting, and blowing roughly back into place from the overpressure. Smoke and debris rushed through the gaps and filled the occupied section.

  One of the troops levered the lock door open, and another stuffed a ladder through to block it. The ladder jammed into the rolly parked across the hatch. They suddenly realized their rush wasn't going to work.

  After a moments’ pause, one dropped to his knees and led the way with others following, between the wheels, up over the pipes, and down and in. Their progress was slow with the encumbrance of weapons and gear, but they proceeded steadily. One of them pointed at a camera and it went dead. The remote crawler camera still had a limited view. The other camera was behind them . . . and it went dead.

  Things were moving fast now.

  Andre half-shouted, “Okay, ready on those transducers and start pumping up pressure in the emergency lock. It should have a fifty percent design overload, and I guess we’re going to test that.”

  He added, “Let’s hit the audio.”

  He had the transducer controls and dialed it up. First was a loud boom, powerful enough they heard it through here, muffled by the bulkheads. Then he dialed it down to low subsonic.

  “I’m just going to sweep it as much as I can. Ultra, sub, and back.”

  He was betting on disorientation, combined with suit fatigue and the double impact of their blast and his pressure wave.

  Godin said, “I’m not sure about damage, but several of them are on the ground, squirming.”

  “Good.” He kept sweeping the frequency.

  They definitely didn’t like that. Combined with fatigue and heat, it had to be rough.

  But the Ueys held the entire section. There was one more hatch between them and inside, an emergency lock with no other support that wasn’t going to have any real effect except possibly psychological, though it would channel them.

  The transducers could hit 170 dB, which even with the protection of a suit and headphones should be painful. Most of these guys were helmetless. That meant they’d closed Lock 2 so they could use Loonie air, even though transferring in and out was restricted when they had pressure. Also, since the transducers were cone type, each momentary noise should hit like a punch. Andre felt inspired, so he chose an excerpt from the 1812 Overture for score. Each cannon blast suddenly spiked to 170, while the noise generally ran about 130. And man, those subsonics were awful. He could feel them here.

  Malakhar said, “They’re slowly crawling out, and they’re helmeted and dropping pressure. Really, they should have stayed in vacuum, but that tells us how low they are on oxygen.”

  “We’ll take it. If all it did was get them sealed up, it’s still a gain. But we’re out of options now. They’re against the emergency lock.”

  Rojas said, “Yes, but it’s been six hours. They’re running short.”

  To reinforce that, Arris called.

  “Mr. Crawford, I have at least five troops down. I would like to ask again for your hospitality.”

  Andre thought, Good, but . . . as far as the Ueys were concerned, this was the final lock. There was no way to open that without breaching containment, officially. He couldn’t let them know about the emergency lock yet.

  So he said, “That’s going to be a problem. You know where you are.”

  “That’s the response I expected, sir. I will make do out here for the little time it takes. By the way, as a courtesy, your man Morton is here, and in our medical vehicle. He has suffered some vacuum trauma, but is alive. I will treat him honorably, but I have no space for additional casualties. Please consider that.”

  Rojas and Godin whooped. Even Malakhar pumped his fist.

  Alive! Thank god.

  “Thank you for the information, Colonel. I appreciate your courtesy and honor. I wish I could offer more help.”

  “You are welcome. Shall we proceed?”

  He tried again.

  “Colonel, take the deal. This isn’t worth dying for.”

  Arris didn’t sound nearly as confident as he replied, “I do not have authorization to do so.”

  He was almost pleading as he said, “Sir, I am not at all out of defensive measures. But at this point, I’m out of nonlethal defensive measures. You are advised that further incursion will result in grave risk to human life.”

  Arris recited, “I must again order you to stand down.”

  He cut him off. “Sorry, that has to go through my command, not between us.”

  It was a dance they had to dance, and it was really, really irritating. But Morton was
alive!

  Arris responded, “I understand. Thank you for considering the request.”

  “No problem. You’re welcome to sit there and breathe oxygen, however, since you have control of the facility for now.”

  Arris said, “We may do that.”

  Oh, really?

  Andre turned and ordered, “There are no more elements that surrender. They could have been breathing air there, or they have a vehicle they can reach in minutes without hindrance. That was in fact an attempt to either see our defense, or gain access by someone with knowledge or skills. They bought this, they have to pay for it now. Laura, repressurize the emergency section.”

  “Already doing it,” she said. “Back up to previous.”

  “What pressure are you reading in there?”

  She said, “Nine atmospheres as you requested, and it seems to be holding.”

  Good. “No sign of leakage?”

  “No. What were these tested at?”

  He said, “The requirement is momentary overpressure of six, sustained three. I think they were tested at nine and six, in a lab setting with solid mountings. Twelve is pushing to max theoretical. But if you’re not finding any strain, see if you can pump it up.”

  Looking at monitors she raised her eyebrows and said, “I’m not sure the pumps can do that, but trying.”

  Zeiss and his support skipped in right then, in vac suits with rock armor. There was one woman he recognized. She was Hawaiian or similar and bulky enough for a fight. The rest were all men he remembered as being veterans.

  He closed the freq, and said, “I’m glad you’re here, Colonel. What are your orders?”

  Zeiss said, “You are still in charge, Engineer Crawford. I’m here with backup. What are your instructions?”

  He summarized fast. “They’re going to try to blow the Lock. We still have that emergency hatch. We’ve overpressured and overoxygenated to hinder movement momentarily, and we used transducers to try to stun them. If they enter the main passage, we expect them to be hindered and slowed, and we’ll need to shoot while trying to block them in.”

  Zeiss said, “Understood. I’d hoped to avoid violence, and you’ve managed very well so far.”

  “Thank you, sir. And I need you down the hall wherever you can best shoot from.” It felt odd to be giving orders to the Guy in Charge.

  “We’ll do that now,” Zeiss agreed.

  While that element skipped off, he took another look at the information they had. Then he started scrawling figures on screen. Was that . . . possibly, yes. If . . .

  He leaned back, checked the time and the video feed, and glanced through his numbers.

  “This is complicated,” he said. “But I think we can cause more overpressure, without undue risk to the emergency lock. Rod, can you check my figures?” He turned his fliptop so Godin could see.

  Godin had more experience with this sort of thing, and Andre wanted his opinion for safety.

  Reading through, the man replied, “If I follow this, you want to use a deflagration to cause overpressure, focused inside the primary lock, relying on the constriction of the hatch to minimize shock against the e-lock.”

  Andre gave a thumbs-up. “Correct.”

  “Did you account for the choke and funnel effect of the shot?”

  Yes. “I think so. As best I could.”

  Godin said, “I think so, too. I believe there’s a small risk of popping the seals, but it should still retain structural integrity.”

  Andre asked, “Fair risk?”

  “Yes, do it.”

  Andre said, “Thanks. Laura, three tanks of acetylene are getting pumped in.”

  “Won’t it stratify?” she asked.

  “Not quickly with the blowers going, in this gee.”

  “Three?”

  Andre said, “It’s more than enough, and more than we should spare.”

  She stood up and grabbed her tool belt. “Got it. I’ll need a thread adapter.”

  “Hurry. They will probably cut through in a few minutes.”

  “They are stubborn,” Malakhar agreed.

  More waiting, as the Ueys kept their preps going, with only secondary intel available on exactly what those preps were.

  Shortly, Laura reported, “It’s done. I managed to get a ratio of about eighteen to one. I’m not sure how you plan to ignite, though.”

  “A low-order charge will agitate and provide flame front. It won’t be efficient, but it will generate overpressure. But it has to be on their side. That means the bottleneck of their opening restricts the pressure wave enough not to damage our lock. We hope.” He looked at Godin for reassurance, who thumbed back.

  Malakhar said, “They appear to be closing the hatch behind them. They must figure we plan something, and will open back up after breaching. That explains the numbers.”

  “It also means they expect a fight. Are our people behind cover?”

  “Yes, there’s a forklift as well as the pillars. It’ll stop rifle fire.”

  “Then we hope that’s enough.”

  There was a rumbling crack as a charge breached the airlock containment.

  “Smackdown!” Godin shouted.

  Drone sonar and imagery showed the Ueys getting bowled off their feet as the pressure equalized between sections. Adding in the explosive gas, it was a bit over six atmospheres even after balance.

  The volume and low charge meant no one had died, but damn, did they look shaken.

  All of them were still moving, but they’d obviously been hit hard and wouldn’t be doing much for a while. Two of them rolled to their knees and stood.

  Meanwhile, Uey troops pumped the pressure down on their side and opened the hatch. The camera just showed them diving through, reasonably well controlled in the low G, and offering support positions to each other.

  Another element rushed in to check the downed troops, and didn’t seem overly panicked.

  Then two more came through, leading others forward to the open lock.

  The body language of the troops just sagged. After all this, there was another lock, one they didn’t have on their plans. Which suggested there might just be another behind it, and another.

  They huddled and conferred. They really weren’t sure what to do here.

  Rojas muttered, “I hope they don’t realize a basic charge will blow that thing right off its seals.”

  Andre said, “I don’t think that’s going to occur to them at this point. They’re short on oxy, short on personnel, and haven’t achieved objective.”

  Still, there was movement and conference. Their technical element came in and painted the camera, but Andre assumed they were examining the hatch itself. Certainly it was an emergency unit. It wouldn’t be too hard to dismount. But doing so might leave them in an open crossfire with Loonies in reinforced positions. Or they might be facing yet another hatch. Or they might be confronted with heavy equipment. They had nothing to go with from here.

  At least, that’s what he hoped they were thinking.

  “Come on,” he said quietly through clenched teeth.

  It was fifteen minutes before the radio channel opened.

  “Mr. Crawford?”

  He grabbed the mic, made himself wait, breathed slowly, counted time, then replied, “Yes, Colonel?”

  “You have blocked us again. I would like to propose a resolution.”

  Was that what it hinted at? He felt prickly and exposed.

  He waited, slowly, watching the seconds tick by.

  “There’s only one set of terms I can accept as a resolution, sir. I believe you understand that.”

  Arris said, “It appears I don’t have the backup I was supposed to have.”

  “Is that a ‘yes’?”

  “Mr. Crawford, I reluctantly accept your offer of recovery.”

  WIN!

  He took a long, deep breath to steady his nerves. He didn’t want to stutter and giggle.

  “That’s fine. I require your surrender and parole in order t
o proceed. And on behalf of all UN forces accompanying you, whether under your command, attached, contract or otherwise in the element we are taking.”

  After a short pause. Arris replied, “That was amazingly thorough.”

  “I’ve dealt with bureaucrats and our contract lawyers. Do I have your word?”

  Arris agreed. “You do. I am ordering everyone accompanying me to abide by those terms, and I will vouch for them.”

  “Very good, sir,” he said as politely and professionally blandly as possible. “You will need to assist with transfer operations.”

  Arris said, “Certainly. Please tell me what you need.”

  “I need you to reengage any working lock in a very specific fashion. Is your technical specialist ready for instructions?”

  A few seconds later, a different voice said, “This is Captain Gul. I am ready for instructions regarding the outer lock.”

  Andre motioned to Laura, who nodded and switched in.

  “Captain, this is Fabricator Rojas. You will be reengaging the lock controls through a commo line that will be isolated at this end. If my signals show any power loss or other indications of trouble, we’ll have to evacuate. Is that clear?”

  “It is.”

  “Please open the box and find the LCP23 on the left side . . .”

  After that, he had them clear the non-destroyed cameras as best they could. It was enough that he could see all the hatches from both sides. They wouldn’t be trying any rushes.

  Andre told Arris, “The procedure is you put all the weapons into the innermost lock. We secure those. Then your people come through four at a time. We’ll do this as fast as we can, but there will be a cycle time as we have them desuit and relocate inside.”

  “I understand,” the colonel replied. “I will send through my most junior, and those shortest of oxygen first, along with your Mr. Morton. I shall be last.”

  Whew. “I will continue to furnish atmosphere inside the lock. Understand that at the first sign of trouble, I will evacuate it. This does not mean I don’t trust you. It means I can’t trust anyone. Something twitches, I punch the button. So for our sake and yours, please instruct your element to keep their helmets in place or immediately accessible.”

 

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