The Messenger Box Set: Books 1-6

by J. N. Chaney

  “Uh, let’s call that plan B for now. Partly collapsing that star was hairy enough the first time. I’d hate to vaporize the Forge and everything else, including us, by blowing the star up.” Dash crossed his arms. “You said two possible solutions. What’s the other one?”

  “Whatever it is, bet it’ll probably end up being plan C,” Amy muttered.

  “Accelerate the Dark Metal sufficiently that it breaks free of its orbit around the star,” Sentinel said. “Then slow it down again to capture it.”

  Harolyn raised a hand. “Okay, wait a second. I’m not a pilot or astrogator or anything like that. We speed it up, and then slow it down? Why not just slow it down so you can grab it from the get-go?”

  Dash felt confident that he knew the answer. “Because it’s orbiting so close to the star, it’s moving really fast relative to us here in the Forge, which is where we want it to end up. But that fast orbit is stable. If we slow it down now, it’s just going to fall into the star and we’ll lose it. If we speed it up enough, though, it’ll be thrown out of orbit and then head off into space.” Dash rubbed his chin. “Speeding it up is easy. We can just push it with the Archetype and the Swift. The trouble is slowing down and catching it once it gets here.”

  Leira shrugged. “Just use the mechs to decelerate it, too.”

  “I guess. That means making trips back and forth with the mechs, which is going to take up a lot of time.”

  “So just accelerate them with the mechs,” Conover said, looking up from a data-pad he’d been tapping at. “Let’s use something else to slow them down before they get here, to the Forge.”

  “Like what?” Leira asked.

  “Dark Metal is magnetic,” Custodian said. “The Forge could generate a sufficiently powerful field to decelerate the Dark Metal when it arrives, although not stop it entirely.”

  “A magnetic field,” Dash repeated. “Yeah. Okay. Do we have a collection system to do the final grabbing?”

  “We can move a construction claw outside,” Viktor said. “Custodian, would that work?”

  “It would, although I recommend a larger claw.”

  “How do we do that?” Viktor asked.

  Tybalt answered first. “We build it. Of course.”

  18

  “There’s always a Catch, eh?” Benzel said, laughing.

  “That’s the fourth time you’ve made that joke since we got out here,” Viktor replied, his voice flat.

  “That’s because it’s a good one! We’re calling this the Catch, right? So that sounds just like—”

  “Yes, I get it. Can we please just get this thing set up now?”

  “All right, kids,” Dash said, rolling his eyes at the idea of him, of all people, having to be the adult. “Less chirping, more work, if you please.”

  The Archetype and the Swift hung side-by-side, just a few kilometers from the surface of the Forge where the Catch would be installed. Dash had zoomed in the imagery on the Archetype’s heads-up to watch as the Gentle Friends, supervised by Viktor, working in concert with the Forge’s tractor systems and maintenance remotes, maneuvered the ungainly contraption into position.

  Its appearance certainly lived up to its name, the Catch. A slender, articulated arm that could extend a kilometer into space, it ended in a bank of magnetic manipulators and a massive, chunky claw. The magnetic elements would bleed off whatever final velocity relative to the Forge the incoming Dark Metal chunks had, while the second component would physically grab them and pull them into the station. The Gentle Friends were scrambling about the base of the Catch, ensuring it was adequately anchored to the Forge’s hull. Dash wanted to ensure the thing was operational before they launched for the mission.

  Speaking of which—

  “Amy, you all set to fly?” Dash asked.

  “Roger that.”

  Dash glanced at the Slipwing, keeping station a few klicks spaceward of the mechs. Amy would fly her in front of the Dark Metal debris as he and Leira flung them from their orbits around the star, doing a first round of deceleration. She actually possessed a feature that made her well suited for the job—a magnetic drive. Dash had won it in a poker game on a transit station called Roundabout, not long after he’d been spanked and educated in the reality of the game by Rostov, in fact. It was meant to allow a ship to ride the magnetic fields found in every star system, saving fuel. It wasn’t very powerful, but Viktor, Conover, and Custodian had amped it up, meaning it should be able to grab and hold the Dark Metal while Amy applied decelerating thrust.

  It was a complicated plan, with a lot of moving parts, which Dash hated. Simple plans were almost always better. But it also stood to take the least time, and right after Dark Metal, time was their most precious commodity.

  “Okay, I’m showing all restraints in place. The Catch is fully bolted down. Custodian, let’s do a test.”

  As Dash watched, the Catch rose smoothly into space, its jointed arm extended until it was completely straight. It retracted, then partly extended again and began flexing through a series of movements.

  “Okay, that is impressive,” Benzel said.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to have one of these, just grabbing ships as they go by?” Wei-Ping asked.

  Benzel laughed. “It would.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve got more important uses for it right now than piracy—sorry, privateering. Viktor, what’s the verdict? Is it going to work?” Dash asked.

  “Is it working now? Yes, it is,” Viktor replied. “Is it going to work, catching flying chunks of Dark Metal? I guess we’ll see.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go round up some Dark Metal,” Dash said, turning the Archetype and powering smoothly away from the Forge, heading for the system’s star. The Swift and the Slipwing fell into formation alongside him.

  “This actually brings back some not very pleasant memories,” Leira said.

  Dash glanced at the roiling surface of the star, just under a million klicks away. They were well into the corona, the thin, fiercely hot envelope of charged gases surrounding it. A ship like the Slipwing wouldn’t last long this close to its incandescent surface, but the mechs simply got hot.

  Very hot, mind you.

  “Sentinel, how are we doing temperature wise?”

  “The exterior of the Archetype facing the star has been heated to just under two thousand degrees in your Kelvin scale. The side facing away from the star is at minus twenty-two Kelvin.”

  Dash whistled. That temperature differential, across just a few meters of hull, would stress ships like the Slipwing to the point of starting to rip them apart. Between her alien substance and the hyper-tech of the Unseen, the Archetype not only shrugged it off, but was able to exploit the much lower temperature on its shadowed side to radiate away its accumulated heat.

  Still, Dash got what Leira was saying. Following the battle against the Golden Harbinger, she was nearing this distance from the star in the Slipwing—and oblivion—when she used the Lens to crunch the star down and make it possible for Dash to rescue her in the Archetype. He remembered his own despair in those moments before they came up with their desperate plan, and he wasn’t the one facing his own imminent death.

  He decided to push away the brooding memories, for both of them. “Okay, the first Dark Metal chunk is one minute ahead,” he said, studying the heads-up. “A big one, too. At least two hundred kilos.”

  “Got it. The next one, about two hundred kilos, too, is about thirty seconds ahead of that one. So you do the first, and I do the second, right?”

  “Yup, you got it.” Dash glanced at a window inset in the heads-up. It showed two trajectories, one for each of these pieces of Dark Metal. The first extended directly to the Forge; the second had the chunk of debris taking a longer route, wrapping around the gas giant. This should give Amy time to intercept and decelerate both pieces of salvage with the Slipwing, so they arrived at the Forge staggered in time, giving the Catch time to grab and stow each. It was ambitious, and relied on extremely pr
ecise astrophysics. But, assuming it worked, it would give them more than four hundred kilos of Dark metal in just a few hours.

  Dash glanced at the star again. As he did, inspiration struck him.

  “We keep calling this star just, well, the star. You should give it an actual name, Leira,” he said.

  “It has a name.”

  “Yeah, well, GC-blah-blah-dash-blah isn’t very inspiring. I’m thinking of something with a little more oomph than just a stellar catalog number.”

  “Okay. But why should I name it?”

  “If anyone has earned the right to give this thing a name, it’s definitely you,” Dash said.

  “Well, let me think about it.” She paused, then said, “Leira’s Star has a nice ring to it.”

  Dash smiled. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  “We are ready to undertake the orbital departure maneuver,” Sentinel said. “And I agree, Leira’s Star does have a certain appeal to it.”

  “You tell him, sister. Us gals gotta stick together,” Leira said, laughing.

  Dash lifted his brows, sighing, then focused on the task at hand.

  The Dark Metal chunk wasn’t very big. Apparently the remains of a Golden probe at least two hundred thousand years old, it wasn’t much larger than one of the Archetype’s hands. And, with the Archetype matching its velocity, it looked stationary. Harolyn had still asked why it was so critical, and the answer was clear.

  Because of orbital mechanics, of course, something non-spacers didn’t really understand. The debris was stationary relative to the Archetype. But its velocity relative to the Forge was enormous, thanks to its extremely tight orbit around—Leira’s Star? Really? So, the first thing they had to do was break it out of that orbit and start it heading for the Forge, and that meant speeding it up even more.

  Dash eased the Archetype forward, until he could plant its massive hands on the chunk. It was a credit to his experience with the big mech that he did it without even introducing a hint of tumble. Now he watched the heads-up, waiting for the Archetype’s drive to power up. Starting and ending the burst of acceleration required ultra-precise timing, so the piece of debris not only broke orbit, but did it on the exact trajectory they wanted. That, he would leave to Sentinel.

  “Drive activating now,” Sentinel said.

  The Archetype surged forward, pushing the Dark Metal chunk ahead of it.

  “How’s the temperature, Sentinel?” Dash asked.

  “Still well within acceptable limits.”

  Dash nodded. Just a few meters away from where he was ensconced in the cradle were temperatures high enough to pretty much instantly turn him to soot. It was just best not to dwell on yet another aspect of spaceflight.

  The Archetype raced on, rounding the star. On the heads-up, Dash saw Leira had started accelerating her own target piece. Dash made himself wait and watch while the seconds ticked down to the drive cut-off.

  “Target velocity achieved in five seconds,” Sentinel said.

  The Archetype, and the chunk of Dark Metal, began to slide out of orbit around the star, now moving too fast even for its formidable gravity to hold back. As soon as it did, the Archetype’s drive cut off. Both now traveled in a straight line, aimed—after taking into account other gravitational effects, like that from the gas giant—directly at the Forge.

  “The Dark Metal’s new trajectory is acceptable,” Sentinel said.

  “Good work,” Dash said.

  “Was it? I merely resolved all of the relevant variables then used them to calculate—”

  “Just take the compliment, okay?”

  “Oh. Well, then I believe the customary response is thank you.”

  “We’ll make a human of you yet,” Dash said, angling the Archetype back toward the star and the next piece of Dark Metal debris.

  Sentinel’s reply was quick and firm.

  “I certainly hope not.”

  The first part of the plan worked. There were now four pieces of Dark Metal inbound for the Forge, their trajectories designed by Sentinel and Tybalt to have them arriving at roughly half-hour intervals. Amy zipped about in the Slipwing, using its reinforced magnetic drive to slow them down with powerful burns from the fusion drive, while nudging them through any minor course corrections with her thrusters. Based on her occasional whoops and cheers, she seemed to be enjoying herself doing it, too.

  “You sound like you’re having fun,” Viktor said, chuckling. He saw Benzel grinning through his faceplate, too, as the Gentle Friends prepared for their first use of the Catch.

  “You should hear her at this end,” Conover said. He’d accompanied her, using his Dark Metal detector to zero her in on the pieces of debris that she couldn’t otherwise see. “I’m getting a running commentary of the whole operation here.”

  Viktor chuckled again. The affection in Conover’s voice was just so apparent. They really did make a cute couple.

  “That’s because this whole operation is awesome!” Amy said. “Although, there is one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Viktor asked.

  “These deceleration burns are using up a lot of fuel. I think we’re good for two more pieces of Dark Metal, then we’re going to have to come back to the Forge and top off the tanks.”

  Viktor frowned at that. They hadn’t been sure just how far the Slipwing’s fuel would go, but they’d figured it would have been further than this. They’d need to pause the whole operation for the ship to refuel. “Amy, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you’re not being a little too—let’s say liberal with your burns, are you?”

  “Nuh uh. It’s the magnetic drive. It doesn’t quite hang onto these chunks properly, so I have to burn a little slower, but on a longer course to get the delta-V we want.”

  “It’s true,” Conover added. “Amy’s doing everything right, here.”

  Of course you think that, you lovelorn kid, Viktor thought, but he didn’t say it. “Okay. Let Dash know. And I have to go, Benzel’s telling me it’s almost time for our first arrival.”

  He joined Benzel at the base of the Catch, which towered against the starfield above them.

  “Okay, Custodian, are you tracking the first piece of Dark Metal?” he asked.

  “I am. It is thirty seconds out.”

  As one, Viktor, Benzel, and the Gentle Friends turned to look at the rough point in space where the Dark Metal fragment should appear. They saw nothing.

  The Benzel pointed. “There! Two degrees to the right of the Catch’s claw, a little low.”

  Sure enough, a tiny dot moved against the starfield. Dark Metal reflected little light, so Viktor had to keep finding it, mainly by looking through his peripheral vision, rather than straight on. The dot rapidly grew.

  Now the Catch silently extended, configuring itself and its claw just so. The dot drifted closer, becoming a distinct shape, an elongated oblong. The Catch swung toward it, positioned itself ahead of it, then swung back, following its trajectory. Viktor knew its magnetic grapples were pulling at Dark Metal, bleeding off its remaining velocity by shunting the kinetic energy into the Catch.

  The claw closed, clamping around the Dark Metal—

  Which pulled free and bounced back into space.

  “Well, shit,” Benzel said.

  Viktor scowled. “You got that right.”

  “The geometry of the specific piece of debris is difficult to anticipate,” Custodian said. “In retrospect, the claw portion of the Catch should have been made more flexible and given a greater range of motion.”

  “Benzel, Your Snow Leopard has no magnetic drive, does it?” Viktor asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Custodian, can you use the Forge’s tractor system to grab it?”

  “No. The tractor system only operates in close proximity to the hull.”

  “And it’ll take too damned long to fire up one of those Silent Fleet ships and go after it.” Viktor sighed. “Well, we know its velocity and trajectory, so once the Slipwing’s available, we�
��ll be able to—”

  “Custodian,” Benzel cut in. “Kill the gravity where we are.”

  Viktor turned. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re going to go grab that thing and bring it back.”

  “But we can retrieve it later.”

  “Sure. And then we can retrieve the next one, and the one after that. But that’s time spent that we don’t have, right?”

  Viktor opened his mouth, but closed it again. The man was right.

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “I’d explain, but every second that thing moves further away. Custodian, kill the gravity, now.”

  Viktor’s weight abruptly disappeared. Benzel and the Gentle Friends immediately launched themselves into space, using bursts from the reaction thrusters on their vac suits to begin overtaking the errant piece of Dark Metal.

  “We’ll get the damned thing and bring it back,” Benzel said. “Viktor, you and Custodian figure out how to catch the rest of them properly.”

  Viktor watched in awe as the Gentle Friends carelessly raced off after the Dark Metal. Just seeing them dwindling into space without tethers made his toes cramp inside his boots, like they were trying to dig in the Forge’s hull.

  The Catch retracted, collapsing back into its articulated self to bring the Claw back down into reach. At the same time, gravity reasserted itself, turning the Forge back into something under Viktor’s feet, and not just something nearby.

  “We have little time to effect modifications to the Catch, Viktor,” Custodian said. “Do you have any ideas regarding how to proceed?”

  Viktor took a last look at the Gentle Friends, shook his head, and muttered, “Crazy sons of bitches.” Then he turned his attention to the Catch. He did have an idea, actually.