Torchship Captain

by Karl K Gallagher

  “Ma’am, the comm box says you have a secure message for your eyes only,” he reported.

  Password and retina scan let the box divulge the message. It was from Marven. “Safe house in danger. Fire spreading this way. Rioters in street. Need rooftop pick up or armed ground escort to evacuate.”

  The latter option would be the safer one if she had a platoon of infantry. She didn’t. She sent “Rooftop” back to Marven.

  Mitchie turned to Mthembu. “Are Hiroshi and Setta on board?”

  “I think they’re in their cabin, ma’am.”

  “Get them up here.” She strapped into her pilot couch. The converter answered as she spun up the turbines. She called “Up ship” over the PA as Hiroshi came through the hatch followed by his wife. “Mthembu, take the con. Keep us heading north-east.”

  The co-pilot took the controls without any questions. Possibly he’d given up on getting answers.

  Mitchie stood up. “Okay. There’s riots all over the city. Stipend kids blaming Sinophones for Corday’s assassination.”

  The bridge dome gave them a good look at Capitol City. Any direction they faced smoke rose from burning buildings. Drones flitted about watching them spread. Firefighting bots clustered by the river, picking up tank-fulls of water and dumping them on the nearest fire.

  “This place is going to be ashes when the revolution’s over,” said Hiroshi.

  “Not our problem. What is our problem is a dozen of our people trapped out there. We’re going to find them waiting on the roof, hover next to their place, and take them on board.”

  Her subordinates were clearly combat fatigued. They didn’t even flinch.

  “Hiroshi, I’ll want you on the controls with me. Mthembu, take comm, let me know if someone is going to do anything about us busting traffic rules. Setta, figure out a way to help them board. Borrow the mechanics to help. The Mate can ride the converter by himself for this.”

  She let Hiroshi steer them to the safehouse. Finding it in the ship was harder than when she’d walked there. Plumes of smoke kept obscuring their view. Her datasheet’s map function was confused by being a klick high in the air.

  “We could just go there at walking height,” suggested Hiroshi.

  “That wouldn’t be neighborly of us.” The turbines blew cool air instead of superheated steam but the pressure needed to keep over a thousand tons of spaceship in the air was fierce. Even at this height people below had to feel the breeze.

  “That’s it! Not on fire yet.” Hiroshi had to add the ‘yet.’ The buildings on the other side of the street were all burning.

  “Right. Mthembu, get Marven on an unsecure channel and ask if he’s ready to go.”

  She could hear his answer from the box. “Hell yes! We’re stomping on cinders so this one doesn’t catch. We have some neighbors tagging along, do you have room?”

  That was terrible security practice, likely to blow the covers of everyone in the safehouse. She said yes.

  As Joshua Chamberlain closed on the pick-up point they had to switch to the cameras in the ship’s base and sides. The dome wouldn’t let them see below the ship.

  “Ma’am, the street’s too narrow,” said Hiroshi. “We won’t fit.”

  Mitchie studied the screen. They’d aimed for the south side of Marven’s building, away from the raging fire. The street on the north side wasn’t any wider.

  “I have the con,” she said. Hiroshi released the control. She slid the ship north. “Tell them to go to the south edge and take cover if they can.”

  In empty air the turbines held the ship up like four legs. When they descended the air jet would reflect off the ground and push against the base of the ship. The ‘ground effect’ just provided extra lift when they were over a flat surface. When over something asymmetrical, such as a hillside or building, ground effect could push the ship off course or even flip it over.

  Keeping Joshua Chamberlain upright would require rapid adjustments of all four turbines to match changes in the ground effect. Mitchie had done it before . . . and come far closer to crashing than she liked to remember.

  The camera screen showed the roofs of the burning buildings on the north side of the street. They only varied in height by a few stories. As the ship settled toward them the flames blew out. They’d certainly reignite as soon as the wind from the turbines died down.

  The ground effect wasn’t too asymmetrical. Gentle tugs on the turbine throttles kept the ship level. Mitchie nudged them all in together to descend.

  The jetwash of all four turbines spread out until they merged in one huge wind. The closer the ship came to the roof the more the jetwashes narrowed. At a few hundred meters up the force of the turbines was concentrated on four spots, each holding over three hundred tons of force. As Joshua Chamberlain descended they narrowed even more.

  The inevitable happened. A roof caved in. Mitchie pushed up the throttle for the turbine over it to balance the loss of ground effect pressure. A little extra drifted the ship east, the jetwash chewing away at the edge of the open hole.

  More roofs collapsed. Mitchie shifted the ship to tear down the remaining intact structure along the street. Already weakened by fire, the buildings crashed to the ground in a cloud of smoke and embers.

  Joshua Chamberlain dropped a dozen meters, then bobbed up as ground effect established itself at the new ground level.

  Mitchie heard a whimper on the bridge. Probably Mthembu, she decided. Hiroshi had done stunts almost this reckless before coming on board.

  “Tell them to come to the north edge,” she ordered. Then she used the PA to tell Setta to open up the hold.

  The side cameras showed they were too low. Mitchie boosted the ship a little. They wobbled as the base crossed from the ruins to the street. Setta began a running narration on the intercom to guide Mitchie in. “Four meters away, down two . . . two away, one up . . . one away half down . . . hold it here.”

  “Hold it here” would be an easy instruction if there was no wind. The large fires in the city were disrupting wind currents. Mitchie gritted her teeth, countering every gust as she felt it.

  In the hold Setta yelled, “Throw the net!”

  The mechanics and deckhands threw the cargo net across. Smoke-stained men on the roof grabbed it.

  “Pull it tight!” she yelled.

  The roof men pulled it back, hooking loops over vents and antennas. The other end of the net was anchored on fittings in the hold. Setta and Ye carried forward a wide panel and threw it over the gap.

  The improvised gangplank wobbled. The ship was moving side to side a hand width, and up and down about that much. It would have to do.

  “Come aboard!” Setta called, adding arm waves. Then she coughed. A lungful of hot smoke hurt.

  Finnegan ran across the gangplank holding a rope. Wang braced the end behind him. “Hold this as you cross,” said the mechanic.

  The Disker intelligence agents urged some civilians ahead of them. Two pregnant women followed by an elderly couple crossed the gangplank.

  With them across the rush began. The younger ones crawled over on the net. When the last civilian crossed Marven walked up to Finnegan.

  “Back aboard, son,” he said. “I’m last off.”

  “Yes, sir.” The mechanic ran back into the ship, coiling the rope as he went.

  Lieutenant (SG) Marven looked around the roof for anyone left behind, saw only embers starting flames, and crossed into the cargo hold.

  “All the way to the back, sir,” directed Setta. “We need you off the net.”

  With their guests clear the crew unhooked the net. “Clear to lift, ma’am,” said Setta to her handcomm. “Everyone’s aboard.”

  Joshua Chamberlain moved straight up. The net slid out of the open hatch, taking the gangplank with it. Setta started the hatch closing.

  It was still open wide enough for them to see the roof disintegrate as the turbines rose high enough to blow on it.

  Mitchie smoothed the bucking as the sh
ip ascended above the broken, burning building. She tapped the intercom. “Confirm we have all our people.”

  Setta replied in a moment. “Lt. Marven confirms everyone from his house is on board. No major injuries.”

  “Thank you.”

  Joshua Chamberlain now hovered high enough to see over the immediate fires, revealing more fires. The riots had spread throughout the city. Murder, rape, and arson were too much fun to be restricted to Sinophones. Mitchie snarled as she viewed the damage.

  Just beyond the local fires a park held swarms of rioters. They danced in swirling lines.

  Mitchie’s jaw tightened. Celebrate this.

  She tilted Joshua Chamberlain to accelerate toward the park, giving up altitude for speed. The turbines blasted leaves off trees and sent rioters tumbling away from the ship’s wake. More thrust was needed to safely clear the apartments on the far side. Mitchie went up a klick and hovered.

  Another pass was tempting. Firing up the torch and blasting them with five hundred degree steam was more tempting. But that would panic innocent people. And Guo would refuse to enable the torch anyway.

  “Hiroshi, take the con. Back to our landing pad.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He flew a gentle course back to the spaceport, avoiding fires and traffic. Apparently he’d had enough excitement for the day.

  Mitchie’s datasheet played the Magic Princess Journey theme. The city network was holding up well under the riot damage. She pulled it from her thigh pocket.

  Guen’s face appeared. “You just put most of two action groups into the hospital, or worse.”

  “Oops.” Mitchie didn’t feel up to faking an apology.

  “I need those guys. The action groups protect the Committee.”

  “If you need them so badly you shouldn’t let them riot.”

  Guen glared. Mitchie wondered if they’d have another repeat of the militia-needs-discipline versus volunteers-resist-control argument.

  “Goddamn arrogant professional.” She cut the call.

  Chapter Six: Ambassador

  Joshua Chamberlain, Planet Pintoy, gravity 9.4 m/s2

  Mitchie said, “I have an idea for getting you away from Guen. But I don’t like it.”

  Guo was washing grease off his hands at the sink in their cabin. Damage to the ship from the rooftop rescue had been his excuse for being too busy to see Guen. He knew that dumping her could lead to violence. “What is it?”

  “If the CPS endorses your peace treaty somebody will have to deliver it to the Harmony. If they make you ambassador you’ll be off planet for a month or two. Long enough for a nineteen year old to fall for someone else.”

  He scraped under his fingernails. “That would work. I don’t know how good a diplomat I’d be.”

  “You know enough philosophy to talk to the Harmony. You know what’s going on here. Guen trusts you. I doubt there’s anyone who’d do better.”

  “Maybe. I’d hate being away from you for so long. The ship will be okay. Ye and Finnegan are both up to working the converter room solo. And I can drop the first mate duties on Hiroshi. It’s just going to be a lonely trip.”

  Mitchie stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “That’s what I don’t like about it. Oh, Guen will probably want one more time with you before you go.”

  Guo ran water over his hands to the wrists to get all the soap off. “I can handle that.”

  “And I want more than one.” She pulled him toward the bed.

  “Hey! Can I dry my hands off?”

  “No.”

  Committee of Public Safety Meeting Chamber, Capitol City, Pintoy, gravity 9.4 m/s2

  “Intervention by the interstellar government is only authorized when a planetary government has violated one of the enumerated rights. Otherwise the planets are autonomous.”

  The Committee member nodded to accept the answer and sat.

  “Next question?” asked Guo. His proposed constitution seemed to be going over well. Some of the questions displayed real understanding of the concept. Others were just attempts to get digs in at rival CPS members.

  A man in a shiny copper skullcap seized the floor. His ‘question’ was an involved speech about the traditional powers of the Fusion government. Guo smiled and nodded, waiting for a question.

  Guen cut the speaker off. “Thank you, Tony. That’s very informative. Let me remind the committee that we are not here today to define the final government for the Fusion. That will take a long time with many amendments. Today we must decide if this shall be our counter to the Harmony’s ultimatum demanding total social control. Something for your spacers and the other worlds to fight for. Are we ready to vote?”

  A few formalities led to a show of hands. When the outcome was clear the laggards lifted their hands to make it unanimous.

  “Good. Now we need to choose an envoy to carry our response to the Harmony.”

  Annie, Guen’s former bodyguard and aide, was now a CPS member in Corday’s place. She said, “As a Disconnected Worlds citizen, Guo Kwan is a neutral in our civil war with the Harmony. I nominate him as envoy.”

  With very little discussion the appointment was approved. Guen adjourned the meeting.

  Guo drifted back to a corner to stay out of the way of the politicians and their hangers-on.

  Mitchie came up from the spectator seats to join him. “That went well.”

  “Thanks. We’ll see what Ping and his buddies think of it.”

  “They’ll hate it if you do your job right.”

  He laughed.

  Guen came up trailing a dozen flunkies and lobbyists. “Congratulations, Mr. Envoy.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Guo gave her a slight bow.

  “Oh, crap. How are we going to get you there?”

  Mitchie said, “I’ll handle that.”

  “Good, thank you. Mr. Kwan, please come back to my office. I need to brief you before your departure.”

  Mitchie suspected Guo would be debriefed. The meeting room was emptying as the rest of the committee members left. She decided it was as good a place as any to make a call.

  Relaying an ordinary call to a spaceship required going through a person. The network control software had broken down as laws changed or were overridden by men with guns. Saying she was calling from the CPS building skipped past questions of authorization and payment.

  Commander Sheu’s face appeared on her datasheet. Mitchie said, “Hi, I hate to bother you but I need to borrow a ship for courier duty again.”

  She expected a five second wait for his reply. Matsu was not quite a million klicks away. Instead it took over forty seconds for Sheu to answer.

  “Yes, ma’am. I can have Walking Rollo on Pintoy in thirty hours. Is this going to take her into a combat zone? If not I’ll want to keep her electronic warfare ratings to stay here to support training operations.”

  Mitchie realized she should have been supervising Sheu and his squadron more closely. “That’s fine. No combat, it’s just diplomatic transport. But what’s she doing that far out? And for that matter where are you?”

  Forty three seconds.

  “We’ve been helping train the new Fusion ships. Their experienced spacers are so dispersed everyone’s learning their job. I’ve put the squadron on opfor, mentoring, and sometime search and rescue. Gives us a lot of insight into their capability. I’ve been sending weekly reports to the analysis group.”

  “I’ll take a look at them. Keep up the good work. We’ll meet Walking Rollo at Capitol Spaceport. Long out.”

  ***

  Walking Rollo massed as much as Joshua Chamberlain but stood more than twice as tall. The long narrow hull provided room for weapons, sensors, and extra heat radiators. An elevator box dangling from a cable hauled them up to the main airlock.

  The ship’s commander met them. “Welcome aboard, Commander Long, Senior Chief Kwan. I’m Lieutenant Commander Max Snyder, and this is my longboat.”

  “Thank you,” said Mitchie. �
�I should let you know Guo Kwan is the diplomatic envoy you’re transporting. For this mission he’s a civilian, addressed as Ambassador.”

  “My apologies, sir.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Guo. “I’m trying to get used to it myself.”

  “I want to make your priorities clear for this mission,” said Mitchie. “One, keep the Ambassador alive and unharmed. Two, bring him back here, or if this place goes completely to hell, to the Disconnect. Three, support delivery of the message and other diplomatic activity. Is that clear?”

  “Very.”

  “Then I hope you enjoy the trip.”

  “I expect we will.”

  After some small talk Snyder offered a tour, which Mitchie declined. “I want to get this mission into the black before the CPS comes up with any new ideas.”

  “Of course, ma’am. I’ll get our lift clearance as soon as you’re off.”

  “Right. Give us a minute?”

  Snyder closed the hatch behind him.

  Mitchie squeezed Guo and pulled him down for a fierce kiss.

  “Hey. Relax. I’m just going on a trip. You’re the one who does dangerous stuff.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah. But I worry. Promise me something?”

  “Yes.”

  That was so like him. She’d never make a promise without knowing what she was committing to.

  “If they try to subvert you, convince you of . . . whatever, let them think they succeeded. I know you like to argue philosophy, but let them win. Convince them that you’re a useful asset for their side.”

  “Ping’s not going to hurt an ambassador.”

  Mitchie said nothing.

  “I promise I’ll give them every reason to keep me alive.”

  One more kiss, then she stepped back into the elevator.

  Guo pressed the down button.

  ***

  Mthembu’s voice crackled on the intercom. “Ma’am, Commander Sheu is on the commbox.”

  “On my way.” Whatever he wanted, it had to be more fun than reading reports.

  Mitchie could see Sheu’s face on the commbox screen as she climbed onto the bridge. “Long here,” she said. She started a timer to measure the lag to his response.