Transformation Protocol

by David M. Kelly

  "Use the rope," Grant shouted.

  It was too late. I pushed off, diving straight at the ship. It took less than thirty seconds and then I careened into the edge of the SMPT, grabbing desperately at the handholds. As soon as I had one in my grasp, I twisted through the door. I shoved the box into Grant's lap and fastened the belts around me.

  "You crazy son of a—"

  His transmission was cut off by Logan. "Joe, we're out of time."

  I was already on the controls and turning the little ship. When we were lined up, I punched the main thrusters on full. It seemed slow at first, but in a couple of minutes I was hammering on the reverse thrust. The Shokasta rushed toward us, and I thought we were going to crack up against the inner bulkhead. We hit it with a heavy crunch and scraped along the wall losing more than a little paint.

  "We're in," I called. "Close and cycle."

  The doors folded shut, and the atmosphere indicator lights flashed green to show pressure was building. I tried to control my breathing but was failing badly. A quiet hissing built up to a thunderous roar as the compartment filled with atmosphere. I checked my helmet clock. I was beginning to think the airlock had broken. Then the lights turned solid green.

  I jumped out of the SMPT and dived toward the inner hatch, throwing my suit off. Once inside, I skimmed along the passage toward the control room. I wasn't sure if there was a record for the microgravity one-hundred meters, but I guessed I was close. I shot into the room like a railgun projectile, and if Logan hadn't grabbed me, I'd have smacked headlong into the wall.

  "Thanks," I gasped, fastening myself into the pilot's seat and hitting the ship-wide comm. "Standby for acceleration. Thirty seconds. Hold tight. Is McDole strapped in?"

  "They've launched missiles," Aurore shouted. "Tracking."

  Even before the thrusters kicked in, I was setting up a Jump and starting the energy build-up sequence. If we could avoid being hit long enough, we might be able to get away. The program was nothing fancy, only a simple maximum-range Jump. If it worked, we'd be around ten light-years away. If it didn't, we'd become an elongated part of the debris field.

  The ship twisted underneath us as the main engines kicked in and jerked us in a random direction at high-g. The maneuver was a drunken walk, designed to bounce the ship around but always vectored away from the oncoming Atoll ships.

  "Impact in ninety seconds," Aurore said.

  I activated the point defense system, but we were jinking around so much that our weapons would struggle to lock onto anything, let alone high-speed missiles. We bucked again, and a metallic tearing squeal sounded from deep inside the ship. I hoped whatever had failed wasn't critical and breathed a sigh of relief when no more red lights flashed on my console. The yellow ones would have to wait.

  "One hundred."

  The maneuvers had gained us a few precious seconds, but not enough. The energy levels on the Jump drive were too low. The Shokasta twisted from side to side, like a horse stung by a wasp. The indicator lights for the railguns flashed as they let out a burst of fire at one of the missiles.

  "Sixty seconds," said Aurore.

  "Hang on!" I thumped the pause control on the flight system, followed by the stabilizer button. The ship damped its wild movements and settled. It was a reckless gamble but possibly our only hope. I glared at the point defense indicators, but they remained dark.

  "Forty-five." Aurore glanced at Logan. "Thirty."

  The railgun lights flashed into life. With the ship stable, they'd targeted the closest missile and were pouring everything they had at it. A few seconds later, the cabin lights flickered. The lasers had cut in as well. I hit the override switch on the proximity missiles, launching them all simultaneously. That would create a cloud around the ship that would only last minutes, but it was all we needed.

  "Five. Four. Th—"

  Aurore didn't finish her countdown as the ship lurched again. The lights flickered on and off several times, then the emergency lights came on. I glanced at the readouts. The Casimir reactors were still building power.

  "Missile destroyed. Second impact in two minutes."

  The Jump drive was almost at maximum. It would be close.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A harsh burning stench filled my nose, and I coughed. Not the comforting odor of woodsmoke and barbecues, but rather the acrid sharpness of fried electronics and blown circuits. The control panel showed we'd Jumped. I ran a number of diagnostics. Unlike earlier, there were enough red lights flickering to satisfy the once-famous New Year's crowd in Times Square.

  "I think I killed the ship." I looked up to see Logan grinning. "Am I missing something? What's so funny?"

  "You saved us and the ship." His laugh boomed out. "And you're complaining?"

  Aurore joined in, her laugh higher in pitch but apparently no less heartfelt.

  "I did what I had to."

  Logan slapped me on the back. "You always do, Joe."

  I tried the comm system, surprised to find it operative. "Check in. Everyone okay?"

  "Grant's got a busted arm, I think." Hernandez sounded shaken up. "He wasn't strapped down on that first maneuver."

  The comm beeped. "This is Giotto. I'm okay, and I think McDole is too... unfortunately."

  "Is Dan with you, Hernandez?" I asked.

  "Yeah, he's here." I heard some muffled talking. "He says you're the worst pilot he's ever met and should stick to engineering."

  "I'll do that." I took a deep breath and sighed. "Looks like it's clean-up time. Again."

  "I'll help," Logan said.

  Aurore unstrapped, floated over to him, and kissed his cheek. “I think you mean we'll help."

  "How did the Atoll ships track us?" I said.

  "I've no idea. From what I know that's theoretically impossible." Aurore frowned. "The Jump is discontinuous from our space-time perspective, so what could they track?"

  "Maybe they didn't," said Logan. "We usually Jump inter-system. If we did that from GJ 1116, there'd only be a few possibilities. What if they made a lucky guess? At least this time they didn't seem to have the power reserves to use the micro-Jumps right away."

  Logan's explanation might be right. I couldn't access the navigation system to verify, but I felt sure there were quite a high number of star systems within Jump radius of GJ 116. "I'll check when we've got things back online. We're dead in space until I can work out what's happened to the main power."

  I headed toward the exit.

  "Joe? Where did we Jump?" Aurore said.

  I turned back, my chest tight. "I'm not sure. I programmed the Jump to take us on the most direct line to Sol. But there are no star systems here, so we're drifting in deep space." And if we couldn't get the ship working, no amount of paddles would get us out of this creek.

  Logan looked grim, and Aurore seemed to shrink.

  "Let's get to work." I grabbed three handheld diagnostic scanners from the emergency locker and tossed two of them to Aurore and Logan. "Everyone got a comm set? Okay, let's start tracing fried circuits."

  We hadn't got too far before we ran into Giotto. She looked scuffed and bruised but otherwise okay and had a small black bag looped around her shoulder.

  "Hernandez thought you could do with some help." She pulled a diagnostic scanner from the bag similar to the ones we were carrying. "I'm only a grade-three tech, but I can handle the basics."

  "Join the party." I turned to face them all. "First priority—trace the power circuitry between the controls, the core systems, and the engines. Once we find out what's broken, we should be able to bring the main system back online and do a more detailed self-diagnostic. If we fan out, we can cover more ground. I'll work my way toward the reactors from here. Logan, you do the same on corridor B. Aurore, if you and Giotto can do the same moving the other way, I think we'll have it covered."

  "Will do, Joe." Aurore forced a smile.

  Logan was already crossing to the other corridor. As I turned to head toward the engines, there was
a tap on my shoulder. Giotto was still there.

  "Carlton told me what you did out there."

  Carlton was Grant's first name. He didn't use it much, and I could guess why—it didn't hang well with the MilSec tough-guy image. "I didn't do a lot."

  "Yeah? Well, I want you to know that we both appreciate it."

  "That's good. I have a reputation to maintain."

  "Seriously, Joe. You're a good guy." She hesitated then kissed my cheek. "And I'm sorry I acted like a bitch."

  A flush hit me, but before I could answer, she turned and pushed off down the corridor.

  It didn't take long to track down the circuit breaks. We'd burned out several power junctions and relays when the power surge went through the ship. There was other damage, but those systems needed immediate attention.

  "I can patch things up. That's not a problem," I said to Logan when we all met up.

  "Now I'm worried." He frowned. "There are always problems."

  I grinned. "Not for me because it's your decision, my friend."

  "I might have known," said Logan. "What do we have to lose?"

  "To repair the main power linkages, I'll need to cannibalize from other systems. I can take them from the weapons system, the CASTOR controls, or life support. It's your choice."

  "Not much of one."

  "If it helps, the CASTOR boost system is out of water, and I think the external tanks are screwed from that close explosion. That won't be back online short of a space-dock. The weapons? We've got no proximity missiles left, one of the railguns looks like it shot its last, and targeting for the long-range missiles may be out too."

  "Thanks for making it easier," Logan grumbled. "And the life support?"

  "I figured you'd want to keep that..."

  "Always the smart-ass." Logan thought for a while. "Okay, take what you need from the CASTOR system first. Leave us some weapons if you can."

  "You think those AF-11s will follow us here?"

  "Let's hope not."

  *

  A few hours later, the main systems were patched up, and I brought the ship's internal diagnostic tools online. The ship wasn't badly damaged for the most part, and after some work on the control systems, I brought the main engines online to give us pseudo-gravity once more. The tearing sound we'd heard turned out to be the SMPT we'd used to get to the Sacagawea. In my haste to get to the controls, I'd not cradled it properly, and the Shokasta's jerky movements had smashed it to pieces against the outer payload bay doors. The other SMPT was intact, but the payload doors would need work before we could launch it.

  The Casimir controls were unresponsive, and on my way to check them I stopped off at the MedBay to look in on McDole. She was alone, her eyes open, and she smiled slightly when I entered. "I heard you saved the day, Joe. Once again."

  "Yeah, me and Rocket Ranger are like that." I crossed my fingers and held them up. "How are you feeling?"

  "Apart from a terrible headache, I'm fine." She flapped the sheet that covered her. "I'm not even sure why I'm here to be honest. I feel like I should be doing something to help."

  "I doubt there's anything you can do right now."

  She nodded. "How is the ship?"

  "Not in the best of condition, but considering we've survived two attacks by your ships, we're not in bad shape."

  "They're not ours." An edge entered her voice.

  "The Atolls build their own ships, don't they?" I sat next to the bed.

  "Normally." She took a breath. "The AF-11s are different, though."

  I lifted an eyebrow. "Different how?"

  McDole drew herself up into a sitting position and looked down at her lap. "The Archipelago Directorate was worried that with Jump technology widely available, Earth would make use of its resources and large workforce to build vessels at a faster rate than we could.

  "There's so much fear in the Atoll community. People are worried we're going to be left behind with the new push to other star systems. Earth's population is bigger than ours, and Earthers are, well, so much more desperate because their lives are so bad. Sorry, that's the general opinion, not mine."

  "It's a fair assumption. Earth is getting harder to live on almost by the year."

  "Do you remember when we last talked?"

  So much had happened I had to think for a moment. "When you tried to disassemble my jaw?"

  "Yes." Her voice was almost a whisper. "Years ago, when I was in the academy, I met a man—Jasper James Feehan—he wasn't in the military. Actually, he was an astrophysicist, specializing in math. It was my first serious relationship, I suppose."

  I didn't know where this was going and wanted to get back to work. "The Casimir controls are down, I should—"

  "J.J. had a stunning mind, undoubtedly on the way to being awarded a Dafazio Prize." She sniffed. "He was working on Jump Field research. He knew Earth scientists were researching the same area and wanted us to have it first. He was terrified that if Earth got the secret before us, they'd overrun the universe, and we'd be nothing but a footnote in history."

  Most scientists had been skeptical that the Jump technology would ever work. If it hadn't been for Harmon's obsession with escaping Earth, secretly pushing the Ananta's construction, it would never have happened. "I thought the Atolls were as doubting as us."

  McDole nodded, a silvery wet trail rolling down her cheeks. "They were, and they laughed at J.J.'s work. He believed if we could learn how to manipulate yau-space, we could move ships or entire Atolls to other stars. Then the Atolls could leave Earth to its own devices, and we'd finally be free.

  "He published several papers. At first, everyone said he was brilliant and his work was acclaimed. But when he couldn't turn his theoretical work into anything practical, the critics savaged him, and in the end no one would publish him.

  "He sank into a depression, and I couldn't help him. I tried to persuade him to have therapy, but he refused. One day, he must have given up." McDole swallowed hard. "He walked into an airlock without a p-suit and opened the door."

  I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Now I understood.

  She let out a small sob. "The thing is, everything he predicted is coming true. Your ships can Jump farther than ours. You're building them faster. We can't compete because there are so few of us, and we don't like risk."

  "You can't expect Earth to sit back and not try to expand," I said. "The Atolls tried to confine us for decades, and people can't forget that."

  "I don't blame you, but others see things differently." She brushed her tears away. "The Directorate outsourced construction of the AF-11s to the Huanshi Corporation."

  Huanshi was one of the largest of the Corporate states and an influential member of the Commerce Executive, the central body that coordinated Corporate activities. "You think they built their own ships using your designs?"

  She nodded. "They were only supposed to build them to order, but they could have made some for their own use. It doesn't make sense why they'd attack us or the station, though."

  "It makes sense if you want to start a war."

  She sat up suddenly. "If they attack Earth ships or stations using our ships, people will think we did it."

  "With the All-Parties Conference, there's a chance that all sides might come together and agree to explore space cooperatively. If that happens, the Corporates would lose a huge weapons market. I imagine they'd be willing to risk a few deaths to ensure that didn't happen."

  "They must have destroyed the Wright Atoll as well." McDole gasped. "We could be on the verge of the first interstellar war. We have to stop this."

  "I agree, but first I have to fix this ship." I helped her off the bed. "You wanted to help? Tell Logan everything."

  I left the MedBay and found Dan in the corridor outside.

  "The Corporates stole their ship design?" He spat out the words. "Shit, everyone's on the make, ain't they?"

  "You were listening?" I stared at him in disbelief. The inner walls weren't soundproof, but to stan
d there and deliberately eavesdrop was something else.

  "Happened to be passing." He looked around. "Sometimes I almost feel sorry for those 'Toller bastards. With all the changes going on, they don't stand a chance against us Earthers."

  "We could work together for the benefit of everyone."

  "You can't trust anyone. The USP, 'Tollers, PAC, or the Corporates." His black eyes locked with mine. "Everybody lies."

  "You don't think the Corporates would benefit from a war?"

  "Ain't saying that." Dan leaned closer. "But I'd sooner trust a 'Toller than one o' them. At least they ain't only mercenaries."

  McDole came through the door and glared at Dan. "Thank you, Mr. Anderson. I'm glad your unpleasant experiences haven't completely prejudiced you."

  She headed toward the control room, and I turned back to Dan. "We still don't know for sure what's going on here. But the Atolls are getting desperate for sure."

  "More than you imagine."

  "What does that mean? What do you know?"

  Dan had a gleam in his eye put me on edge. I pushed past him, toward the generator area.

  "We're in the middle of the biggest transformation in history," Dan called after me. "Who knows what anyone is capable of? They'd kill their own mothers if it served their purposes. Maybe the Atoll wasn't destroyed. We only have their word for it."

  I stopped. "There were scientists on the station from all nation-states. If they're not dead, where are they?"

  "Seriously?" Dan snorted. "How long did they bang me up for?"

  I walked away, but he had me wondering. The Corporates had close ties with the Atolls. They often provided the research while the Corporates supplied the labor and manufacturing power to complete the projects. Would the Corporates risk that by attacking Wright Atoll? Was everything about the attack propaganda designed to throw Earth off the scent? It seemed impossible, but how well did I know McDole or any of the other Atollers? They'd attacked both Deimos and Helios bases, not to mention the Sarac and Shokasta. That wasn't a glowing pacifist track record.

  And then there was Dan himself. Despite being held prisoner for years, he showed remarkably little hatred for the Atolls. What was his game in all of this? I couldn't piece together all the odd quirks about him. I tried to push it out of my mind, but it lingered on the fringes like Banquo's ghost.