A Star Wheeled Sky

by Brad R Torgersen

  “We did,” Wyo said. “Or, rather, Captain Loper did. Ejection pods don’t have sufficient retro rockets for the job, but the military drop modules can run their retros at up to one hundred and forty percent max thrust—at least per the manufacturer’s guidelines. We’ll need to pull retros off some of the modules, and use them to augment the modules which remain. Between them, it will make for a hell of a ride. We estimate the period of worst deceleration will last about two minutes, during which the occupants of the modules will experience seven gee or more. Enough so that even gee chairs might not be enough to keep people from passing out. But assuming the drop modules can handle the strain—structurally—we can put troops and equipment on the ground safely, without sacrificing so much starliner speed that we can’t effect the slingshot to the big jovian farther in.”

  “Billiards,” Axabrast said gruffly. “Never thought I’d see my Lady behind the cue ball like this, nossir. Well, if that’s the best we’ve got, it’ll have to do. But, lad, them kludged drop modules can’t take all of us. Who goes down to Uxmal, and who stays aboard?”

  “That’s Captain Fazal’s next chore,” Wyo announced, eyeing the infantry officer. “We have to be choosy about who and what we take down.”

  “Right, sir,” Captain Fazal said. “Once we get this first nuke rigged and ready, I can devote some time to parsing my company roster, as well as assets. We’re probably going to have to skip the heavy stuff. All these conventional explosive shells, and the mechanized mortar? Nope. We’ll want a varied concentration of personnel—by pertinent skill set—as well as plenty of consumables. Even if there is water to drink and air to breathe, we have to feed ourselves. Possibly, for a long time?”

  “That’s my thought as well,” Wyo said.

  “Elvin and myself can make do with half rations,” Lady Oswight said confidently.

  “Me too,” Wyo agreed.

  The captain, the majordomo, and the Lady all stared at him.

  “You’re dropping with us?” they said in unison.

  “Of course,” Wyo said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Well, sir, it’s just,” Captain Fazal stammered, “I think we all assumed you’d want to stay with your ships. I mean, you’re not TGO after all. And while Lady Oswight has a vested interest in seeing that pyramid, what’s in it for you?”

  “The detachment flag goes where Lady Oswight goes,” Wyo said, “and that’s where I go too. Captain Loper can handle my ships—he does anyway.”

  Their mutual expression of surprise remained.

  “All things being equal, I’d choose otherwise,” Wyo said. “But then again, what else is new? Look, if you’re worried about me being underfoot, Captain, I won’t be. You, the other TGO company leaders, and your battalion commander? You’ll have the run of the place once we’re on dry land. I’m just doing what Admiral Mikton told me to do.”

  “Right,” Axabrast said, seeming unconvinced.

  “Like you said, Mister Axabrast,” Wyo quoted, “we all share the danger. Since it’s my decision, with Captain Loper, to risk atmospheric entry at higher than normal speed, it’s me who’s going to stick his neck out with the rest of you. And believe me, Lady Oswight, if you decide to not go down to the planet—”

  “I would not miss it for anything,” she said, cutting Wyo off. “The whole point of this detachment is to get to Uxmal—and its potential secrets—first. I intend to be involved in the effort every step of the way, regardless of the hazard.”

  “I will make the drop as well,” said a high voice from behind Wyo.

  Every head turned to observe Zoam Kalbi laboring up to stand beside the lieutenant commander.

  “For you,” Wyo said, “the risk is wholly unnecessary.”

  “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, Lieutenant Commander Antagean. Like I said before, Article Thirty-six covers a lot of things. And whatever you may think of me, I am not averse to risk when the potential for a story is so great. Many of the veteran informationalists of our time have gone into danger alongside Constellar’s military personnel. And as the Lady said, the whole point of the detachment is to claim the planet. I want to be the first informationalist on Uxmal. Even though I deeply regret that we’re going to be fighting Nautilan forces long before we get there.”

  “No choice on that piece of business,” Wyo grunted.

  “Oh?” Kalbi said. “I’m not so sure. Have any of you spent any time considering the possibility of negotiations? Instead of racing against the expedition from Starstate Nautilan, we could forget about hostile action and try to work with them for a change. I mean, no shot has been fired in anger just yet. We’re making all kinds of assumptions about their motives, based simply on past history. Has it occurred to any of you that they may be as afraid of us as we are of them?”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears,” Lady Oswight said.

  “Mister Kalbi,” Axabrast said, “yer givin’ the Nauties credit they nae deserve. Take it from a man who’s lost friends on several worlds. Starstate Nautilan only understands taking things by force. Uxmal will be no different. Why d’yae think they sent warships in the first place?”

  “We have warships with us,” Zoam interjected.

  “Aye, and civ craft too. Think any ’o them Nautie ships is civ? No, sir. Not a civilian in the bunch. They will conquer this system, as they have conquered all else in my lifetime. Be sure of it.”

  Zoam Kalbi’s expression was doubtful. “It just seems like such a waste,” he said. “We actually have much more in common with Starstate Nautilan than we like to admit.”

  Axabrast made a scoffing sound.

  “Wait,” Lady Oswight said, before her majordomo would get profane. “I know you didn’t say that to be insulting. Can you clarify what you mean? Starstate Nautilan has been Constellar’s enemy for as long as any of us has been alive. Their way of being is so foreign to us, as free people, we can hardly imagine it.”

  “That’s what the First Families insist,” Zoam opined, “but when you’re an informationalist, you have to be able to see the other fellow’s point of view. Even people you may be inclined to dislike. There is an international league of informationalists—spanning all of the Starstates—and we exchange as much data on Nautilan as we can. Granted, it’s not easy obtaining an accurate picture of life inside Nautilan. They go out of their way to protect their people from outside influence, and this makes it hard to know what’s happening for the average Nautilan citizen on a given world.”

  “You mean, average Nautilan serf,” Wyo commented.

  “Serf? No, Mister Antagean. That word has much more applicability to Constellar, if you care to see our own country through an informationalist’s eyes. Nautilan does not, after all, have anything like the First Families. Consider the fact that none of the extant Starstates allow the common person to partake in governmental decisions. But Nautilan’s leadership—so far as I understand it—speaks directly for the people. Not the monied corporate class. Nor the privileged royalty of First Family estates.”

  “Amazing,” Axabrast snarled, “we’re fixin’ to fight the damned Nauties to the last man on Uxmal, and the wee infotainer’s got Nautie sympathies!”

  “All of humanity has my sympathy,” Zoam corrected, his posture—in the double gee—remaining defiantly erect. “Not just the people who walk beneath Constellar’s banner.”

  “Okay, okay,” Wyo said, stepping between the informationalist and the former colour sergeant. “We can talk politics some other time. Mister Kalbi, I think that’s a very generous attitude you have, albeit somewhat misplaced at this particular time. If the expedition from Nautilan had come in a primarily civilian capacity, maybe you’d be on to something worthwhile. But even I know—and I am not full-time DSOD, just to remind you—that nine identical warships spell hostile intent. I think Mister Axabrast has it: Nautilan intends to conquer. Our mission now is to frustrate them, in any way possible, and to hopefully learn as much as we can about the artifacts remaining o
n Uxmal’s surface. Before those artifacts are seized or destroyed.”

  “All the more reason I need to be there,” the short man said. “If there is to be a proper record of this, the Waywork’s first known voyage to Uxmal, I intend to produce it. Article Thirty-six guarantees my rights in this way. Again, informationalists have been present for almost every major Constellar military action in our era. This is no different. So, you can’t keep me off the drop, Lieutenant Commander.”

  “Fine,” Wyo said, throwing up his hands in resignation. “But if things get dire, don’t say you weren’t warned.”

  “I would never blame anyone for anything over which I have full control,” Zoam said sniffily. Then he turned to Captain Fazal and said, “Please inform me how I may best fit into your drop-module plans, Captain. As you can see, I don’t take up much room.”

  “Loper to boss,” said a voice over the cargo module’s internal speaker.

  “Copy, Captain Loper,” Wyo said. “Is there a problem?”

  “Not with us, sir. But I thought you should know, Admiral Mikton’s Task Group has closed with and engaged the Nautilan squadron near the Waypoint.”

  “What’s the news?” Wyo asked, as every person in the compartment stopped what he or she was doing, and listened intently.

  “So far, one of ours has been destroyed. The Gouger. For the sake of destroying one of theirs. Admiral Mikton has ordered the Daffodil to rendezvous with her at a Kuiper belt object she’s dubbed Objective Epsilon. That’s all the Daffodil relayed to us before they got underway. They’re going to go wide of us, so as to avoid the Nautilan pursuit force on our tail.”

  “Thanks, Captain Loper. I appreciate the update. Antagean out.”

  The speakers went silent.

  Everyone looked at each other.

  “So much for Mister Kalbi’s desire for dialogue,” Lady Oswight said, somewhat sadly. “Now there’s no question.”

  Kalbi’s attitude was hard to read. The expression on his face—in those eyes—had become void of outward emotion. He simply turned around, and slowly walked out of the cargo compartment, maintaining the same posture as when he’d entered it.

  Chapter 24

  Golsubril Vex was dining alone when word came regarding the engagement against Constellar’s armed squadron. It had been a draw. A loss for a loss, with General Ticonner reporting that he was maintaining pursuit, following the Constellar squadron’s diverting toward what appeared to be a large comet. Live fire had ceased, as the distance between the two forces had grown too great for the finite fusion motors on Ticonner’s nuclear missiles to manage the distance—and still be able to successfully track and engage their targets. Also, another Constellar ship had manifested. Similar in design to the Constellar long-range scouts—one of which had been successfully destroyed—but with less armament. It appeared to be on course for the same comet which had attracted the Constellar admiral’s attention. Ticonner promised to relay further details as he had them, and remained confident of success.

  Vex set her gee bottle back in its cradle on the arm of her private gee chair in her quarters. Thrusting at three times ordinary capacity had made even the simplest chores remarkably difficult. She’d been slowly sporking bits of cooked, spiced beef—with rice and vegetables—into her mouth. Even raising her arm for a few moments made the muscles in her shoulder complain. And she’d dropped enough bites in her lap to realize that even with gee chair support, the best way to ensure the food got to its destination was to go slow, and use her alternate hand to guide the wrist of the hand which held her utensil.

  The appearance of another enemy ship was concerning, only because it indicated that Constellar had been far enough ahead of Nautilan to be able to move even more assets than had first been assumed. Was there more waiting for Vex’s pursuit force the closer they got to the clement planet in the inner system? Had she been foolish to follow her instincts, and divert four ships to handle the civilian starliners? With Ticonner’s squadron now down one destroyer, it was becoming evident that Constellar wouldn’t let Vex have the new system without significant resistance.

  Still, not everything about the voyage was proving problematic. The data her ships were collecting about this new system was remarkable, considering the fact that it was the first time any Starstate Nautilan expedition had been able to reconnoiter a foreign system without having collected a wealth of data via espionage first. Everything ahead of them was literally brand new. And while telescope imagery of the clement world was still difficult to resolve at this great distance, every day took them a step closer to their prize. A world with a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere was worth every life in Vex’s expeditionary force. Such a world—properly harnessed, and seeded with human life—would transform the fabric of Starstate Nautilan for generations to come. It was the kind of thing Vex could never have dreamed of. Because there simply were no new worlds within the Waywork, much less clement worlds. And while lifeless, airless terrestrials always offered the possibility of mining and manufacturing resources, they took a lot of time and energy to develop. A lifetime’s effort, for limited immediate results.

  But now, a world which might have air to breathe, and water to run through her fingers…Vex’s standing as Jaalit’s kosmarch was going to be increased dramatically. In time—perhaps even within her life?—Starstate Nautilan might enjoy two capitals, versus one. With Vex herself on the new capital’s throne. Assuring herself a high place in the annals of the Starstate, if not the Waywork as a whole.

  Still, her eyes remained focused above even this possibility. Because the mystery of how or why a new Waypoint had appeared—where none had been before—still needed to be solved. And this spoke of yet more potential power, just out of reach at the moment. Assuming such power could be comprehended by human minds, and used for human purposes.

  “Madam Kosmarch,” General Ekk’s voice announced through the little speaker at her door.

  “Enter,” she said.

  The old officer used a walker, sliding himself in slowly under three gees worth of downward force. He gratefully collapsed into a gee chair across the table from Vex, and waved away her offer of food.

  “I am getting too old for this,” he said dryly, wiping at the perspiration on his forehead with one of Vex’s napkins.

  “When this expedition reaches its successful conclusion, General, your retirement will be abundantly generous, I can assure you,” Vex said.

  “Assuming my heart doesn’t quit on me first,” he said, then laughed weakly at his own joke.

  “What’s our pursuit status?” she asked.

  “The same as it’s been. We will very soon be following the Constellar starliners through their slingshot maneuver at the outer gas giant.”

  “Is that going to be dangerous?”

  “Madam Kosmarch, I have made such maneuvers dozens of times in my career. They are an essential tool of all planetary travel, both military and civilian. You use the gravity of one world to hurl you onward to the next. With no additional expenditure of hydrogen. In our case—assuming the starliners are still heading to the clement terrestrial in the inner system—I anticipate two gas giant planetary gravity-assist maneuvers. If we’d arrived at a different time during this system’s solar year, we wouldn’t be so lucky. But it just so happens we can use the first big jovian in our path to throw us toward the second big jovian, which will send us careening into the inner system at tremendous speed. So much so, I’ve got my officers figuring out how much hydrogen we’ll use braking to mere orbital velocity when the time comes.”

  “Will it be too much to prevent us from going back out to the Waypoint?”

  “So far, the calculations I am seeing do not pose a problem in this regard.”

  “Be sure, General.”

  “Madam Kosmarch, I always am.”

  “Once we are in orbit, what resources do we have for a ground fight?”

  “Not nearly as much as I’d like, Madam. But we should be able to land a significantly ar
med force, capable of dealing with the Constellar expedition on our own terms.”

  “What about your colonel,” she asked. “The one who keeps daring me to strip him of his rank—for his flagrant informality in the presence of a kosmarch?”

  “He’s ready to go, Madam. I know you don’t think much of Jun’s military bearing. To be honest, I don’t think much of his military bearing either. But I’ve known the man for many years. And despite the fact that he’s been sick, he’s hearty enough to plumb the mysteries of whatever Waymaker artifacts may await us when we arrive—if they’re even there at all.”

  “They’re there,” Vex said firmly. “It’s the only explanation for the rapidity with which the Constellar admiral dispatched her starliners. They want to be first. Assuming there is not already a Constellar expedition on site.”

  “We’ve seen zero indication that there are any ships in orbit around any of the planets of the inner system,” Ekk said.

  “Which may or may not mean anything,” she said.

  “If Ticonner’s loss is bothering you, Madam, I think it’s not too late for all of us to regroup, and forge a different strategy.”

  “Absolutely not,” she said sternly. “Speculation about what’s to come does not mean I have wavering faith in my choice to split our squadron. We lost one of ours to one of theirs. We still have them outgunned. And, I am willing to bet, we will have reinforcements arriving before they do. There have been no new arrivals through the Waywork from Constellar space. This tells me that whatever they were using to ferry security ships across the Slipway is now within our grasp. Probably a Key-operational ship small enough it can mate with other ships, acting as a Waywork piggyback? Once we seize or destroy that vessel, the only Constellar assets moving across will have to come from elsewhere beyond Oswight space. We know enough about that system to realize that their interstellar footprint is limited, even before recent events unfolded. And by the time Constellar’s DSOD can put additional starships into play, our second wave from Jaalit should be arriving.”