James Wittenbach - Worlds Apart 08

by Hellfire

  Alkema hesitated. “I can only tell you we have contingency plans.”

  “Will you steal our Tritium by force?” demanded Ota, the other Hellion.

  Alkema repeated. “I can only tell you, there are contingency plans.”

  “You are as bad as the Solarite pirates,” Ota spat.

  “That’s not exactly true,” Alkema said. “We have better weapons and ships.”

  “So, your might makes you right,” Ota challenged him.

  Alkema shook his head, but did not offer argument.

  Logo tried to explain. “Legacy X was built to transport 10,000 of our people to Fallon colony. It contains a complete micro-stored record of our history, our culture, our achievements; 3,000 years of history. We need the Tritium to reach our new home. Without it, not only we, but all the achievements of our ancestors will be lost forever.” The transport pod zagged right. Alkema knew they would be at the monitoring station soon. “How far away is Falldon colony?” he asked

  “22 standard light years,” Logo answered.

  “Pegasus could have carried 10,000 people that far without a problem,” Alkema said quietly. “You only needed to ask.”

  Logo and Ota said nothing, and after a few moments Alkema glanced over at Ota to see his face red with shame and insult.

  Pegasus – The UnderDecks

  The Transport Pod docked at a station deep in Pegasus’s UnderDecks, 70 decks below the ship’s mid-line. Alkema led them through a network of pipes and conduits, like giant robot intestines, to a control room. There, on a primary display, was Liminix CH-53, shown connected to Pegasus by several umbilical lines and an extended docking arm.

  “You’ve done something to it,” Logo observed, squinting at the hologram of Liminix CH-53. The forward Tritium tank was ringed by a mechanical collar.

  “The catalytic converters have been installed on Liminix,” Driver explained, and highlighted the additional equipment installed onto Liminix. “Our fuel handling systems are designed to handle Tritium, not deuterium. Building the catalytic converters on Liminix was also a faster solution than retro-fitting our fuel handling devices.”

  “How did you so it so quickly?” she asked.

  “Microbots, mostly,” Alkema answered. He indicated a spot on the collar. “Your shuttle should dock here. There’s a fuel transfer point.”

  “How does it work?” Ota asked.

  “We’re very adept at extracting energy from the interactions of quantum particles,” Alkema explained. “Extracting matter is another story. What we are going to try to do is break down the deuterium into a quantum state where, basically, its quarks are willing to be re-arranged into something else. Then, we will shoot a stream of Tritium through the quantum-flexible proto-matter, and we think some of the deuterium quarks will transform. If we’re lucky, we’ll get three or four new molecules of Tritium for every molecule of refined Tritium we shoot through. Then, we can recover it using a standard refining process and venting the impurities into space.”

  “Why can’t you convert it completely?” Logo asked.

  “Most of the proto-matter will revert to Deuterium after a few zillionths of a second,” Alkema explained. “It takes a lot of energy to get to this process. Pegasus is going to have to power down non-essential systems during the refining process.”

  “What about defense systems?” Logo asked.

  “If you are thinking of attacking Pegasus when we’re powered down, forget it,” Alkema told her. “Our missiles and artillery defenses will be on-line. And we still have eight Aves on continuous patrol. I am obliged to tell you, they can and will attack your ship if you try anything.”

  “We would never do that,” Logo insisted. “I was only concerned about Pirate attack. We never wanted to fight you.”

  “True, you only wanted to take advantage of us, and steal from us,” Alkema replied.

  “Change wanted to attack you, and it took a hell of a lot of convincing for her to give this plan a shot.”

  Logo looked down at the deck. Alkema sensed she was genuinely remorseful for the deception, but was bound to her orders.

  Alkema continued. “If we can salvage 120,000 liters of this cargo, we’ll have enough for another two years of operations, together with what’s left of our reserves. Hopefully, we can find another source by then.”

  Alkema touched the COM Panel. “Catalytic Monitoring Station to Pegasus Flight Operations. We are ready to begin. Transmit docking instructions to the Hellfire shuttle.” Alkema managed a weak and unreassuring smile. “This better work. I really don’t want to have to attack your people.”

  Pegasus – Warfighter Logistics Section, Deck 61

  Thirty-Nine Decks below the Main Bridge, an entire deck of the Primary Command tower was used as an armory and quartermaster station for the ship’s warfighters Anaconda Taurus Rook spent most of her duty time here, especially since bearing Johnny Rook’s daughter Skua, who rested nearby in a bassinet the warfighters had made from the warhead of a Hammerhead missile and lined with fuzzy pink blankets.

  It was a good place to meet with warfighters, especially those who weren’t getting along.

  Not getting along was something that happened often among warfighters, when there was nothing to fight. It fell to her to keep the units cohesive.

  It was in that capacity that Taurus called her young husband and his friend into see her.

  “Good afterdawn, gentleman.”

  They saluted her briskly and she returned to salute. “This should not take long. Is Caliph here as well?” she asked.

  Caliph shimmered into being on a hologram display, looking happily unaware that she had caused any sort of problem. “I’m here.”

  “Good. Now, you gentlemen, sit the hell down.” She gestured at the couch for both of them. She took a chair as they sat down on it. “The way I hear it, you’ve been having some problems getting along with each other.”

  “I …” Rook began, but his wife cut him off.

  “We’re not going to sit down and sort through our feelers like little girls. We’re going to take this on like the adults and the warriors that we are.” She addressed Rook first. “Honey, Specialist, I love you. I intend to keep loving you and keep having your babies for the rest of my life. And if I found out you were you were doing other women, even fantasy women, I’d smash your balls with a war-hammer and then I’d drop-kick her through an airlock. So, I understand the jealousy, up to a point. But it’s time to drop it. I order you to forgive Warfighter Jordan and forget about the whole thing.” Then, she turned to Jordan. “Warfighter Jordan, I hope you enjoyed your wet dream, because it’s never gonna happen in real life. In fact, you should never speak about this again, to anyone, under any circumstances. Don’t believe what anyone tells you, artificial testicles are not as good as the real thing, and if I ever show up in another fantasy of yours, you’re going to need them.”

  Finally, she addressed the hologram. “And as for you, Caliph, if I ever here about you using me or any other woman on this ship in an unauthorized porno fantasy, I’ll have you forcibly implanted into Technician Roebuck. And you don’t want to know what kind of sick things run through that boy’s head.”

  She stared them down. “Is that understood?”

  “Affirmative, ma’am!” Rook told her, jumping up and snapping to attention.

  “Affirmative, ma’am, sir, yes,” Jordan agreed.

  “Hmmph,” said Caliph. And then, “Bye.” She disappeared.

  “Now that that’s dealt with,” Anaconda Taurus Rook said, folding her arms in front of her. “I have a mission for the three of you, if you’re done playing Panrovian Hygiene Serial and are ready to act as warriors again.”

  Pegasus – The UnderDecks

  Some hours later, Alkema reviewed the results of the catalytic process on the first of Liminix’s six tank. He read the report twice. “This can’t be right,” he said.

  “What’s wrong?” Logo asked.

  “See for yourself,” he
switched the report display from text to graphic interpretation.

  “We expected the first tank to yield 20,000 liters of Tritium. If this analysis is correct, we got over 60,000 liters.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” Logo asked.

  “Za, but if it’s true, it means our understanding of the persuadable quantum state was off by a factor of three.” He touched the COM Link. “Telemetry Section, this is Lt.

  Commander Alkema. Would you do a remote scan of the number one cargo tank on the Hellfire Tritium Hauler? Transmit the results to the Catalytic Monitoring Station.” The Telemetry officer complied, and in a few moments, the results of that remote scan confirmed the initial data. “This is very good news for us,” Alkema said, with barely contained excitement. “If we can make Tritium out of Deuterium our fuel requirements may be solved.” He passed the datapad to Logo. Ota rose from his station and began comparing the data, now from two separate readings, verifying that 60% of the cargo had converted successfully to Tritium.

  Meanwhile, Alkema reported to Change. “The results on the first cargo tank were outstanding. We salvaged 60,000 liters of Tritium.”

  Change looked mildly irritated as she conceded. “Congratulations, Lt. Commander, so far, your plan seems to be working.”

  Alkema responded, “I’d like our Lead Quantum Specialists, Arachnos and Outlaw, to come down and study the phenomenon. I’m sure they would like to figure out why the reaction worked more efficiently than their wildest predictions.”

  “Let’s just worry about the fuel for now,” Change told him. She seemed a little angry, which was understandable. She was still settling for less than a full load of fuel. “I will inform the Hellions to ship the next 10,000 liters of Tritium.” With that, she snapped off the COM Link.

  Logo handed the datapad to Ota, and sidled up to Alkema. “I am compelled to ask if you would be willing to share this technology with us? Some of the Tritium we use in propulsion converts to deuterium in our fusion process. If we could recover it, it would extend our voyage, and give us a better probability of survival.”

  “Not a chance,” Alkema told her. “Even if I were in favor, which I’m not, Lt.

  Commander Change would never let you have it after cheating us. And I am fairly certain Commander Keeler will agree.”

  Logo sighed, and cast her eyes at the deck again. “Would you ask anyway?”

  “All right, but I think you’re wasting your time,” Alkema sighed and touched the COM

  Link again. “Commander Change. Our guests would like to know if you are willing to give them the Liminix CH-53 once we have finished converting its cargo.” To his surprise, she answered. “I don’t see why not. I have no use for an old garbage hauler stuck to the side of my ship, and we’re just going to abandon it anyway.” Alkema paused for a second, as though needing a moment to process this change in the expected outcome. “They also want the catalytic conversion technology.”

  “That will cost them another 30,000 liters of Tritium,” Change asked.

  “I will see if the Managers will agree,” Logo told her.

  Without further comment, Change switched off the COM channel.

  Section 09

  Pegasus – Docking Assembly

  After five ship-days of processing, Alkema determined they had wrung all the Tritium they were going to from Liminix CH-53. It came, Alkema said, to a total of 370,000 liters. The last day was spent carefully transferring the cargo into storage tanks on Pegasus.

  When they were done, the Hellion crewmen were escorted back to Liminix CH-53 via its docking connection on the UnderDecks. Alkema oversaw their departure. Change was not in attendance.

  As they made their final preparations to leave, Logo approached Alkema. “Thank you again for your kindness and understanding.”

  “I’m just glad I found a solution we can both live with,” he answered her.

  Logo had one more thing, though it saddened her. “I am disappointed that Flight Captain Driver… did not wish to see me.”

  “Maybe he just didn’t want to say goodbye again,” Alkema suggested diplomatically.

  “Or, he is angry with me for our deception,” she said sadly.

  “Matthew Driver isn’t the kind of guy who holds a grudge,” Alkema replied. “You should go. Your people are probably eager to get back you back and start your journey. It’s a long sixty years to get to Fallon.”

  Logo, who seemed to spend most of her life staring at the carpet, looked up and around the docking connector. It was not a large space, and it was quite utilitarian. Still, it seemed she would miss Pegasus.

  When she walked into the shuttle connector, Alkema sealed the airlock behind her.

  Then, he linked in to the Bridge. “Alkema to Main Bridge. The Hellion crew is back on board Liminix CH-53. ”

  Pegasus – Main Bridge

  Change acknowledged David Alkema’s report, than turned to Flight Operations.

  “Release the docking clamps and inform Liminix that they may return to their ship.”

  “Aye,” the Specialist at Flight Ops responded.

  They watched on the displays as Liminix CH-53 decoupled from Pegasus, and began heading toward its rendezvous with Legacy X.

  Change watched the departure from her seat at the Bridge. When Liminix CH-53 closed for its rendezvous with Legacy X, she ordered, “Helm, back us off to 100,000 kilometers,” she ordered.

  “Backing off to 100,000 kilometers,” Atlantic answered.

  Liminix CH-53 and Legacy X

  The Hellion pilot, Mr. Goto, was gratified to find that Pegasus technicians had completed repairs to the maneuvering thrusters and control systems. Guiding Liminix CH-53 to the fourth docking slot on Legacy X’s hull proved to be simple, uneventful task.

  As the docking clamps pulled in around the ship, the crew made their way to the airlock, where they were met by Captain Aja, who congratulated them on the success of their mission. Technician Logo was taken away for debriefing, while the last two technicians remained behind to systematically deactivate systems and life support.

  When they sealed the airlock behind them, Liminix CH-53 was cold, dark, and silent…

  … for about ten minutes.

  And then a small light, no larger than a Christmas tree light, activated in the structural framework between the engine room and the cargo tanks. Matthew Driver dropped from his place of concealment in the scaffolding and down to the deck. Dressed in a shadow suit, he slipped quietly through the empty passageways and to the crew deck, guided by his small light and the vision augmentation of his Spex.

  Driver quickly came to the row of storage lockers where the former Liminix CH-53 crew had kept their personal items. It was a simple matter to input the code to the third and fourth lockers, whose thick, padded doors opened up and to the side.

  Johnny Rook and Max Jordan were waiting inside, wearing stealth battle dress.

  “Thank the Allbeing,” Rook told him. “Another hour in there, and I think Max and I would be legally married.”

  “We’ve docked with the Hellion mother-ship,” Driver whispered. “There’s no one on board but us.”

  “Then, I can assume that the plan is working?” Rook asked.

  Driver confirmed. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

  Jordan smiled at Driver. “Come here, I want to hug you.”

  “Perhaps later,” Driver said. “We have to get off this ship before they figure out the

  ‘catalytic converter’ is useless, and all their slush Deuterium is still in the tanks.” The three of them moved swiftly to the airlock that joined Liminix CH-53 to Legacy X.

  They had feared that it might be guarded, but their Spex showed no one posted on either side of the lock. Max Jordan touched the airlock hatch and concentrated, letting data feed from the sensors in his gloves to the Spex in his eyes.

  “The airlock is monitored from their command and control center,” he told them.

  “There are visual sensors, and the lock sends
an alert to the C and C when it cycles.” This was consistent with the system scans they had done on Legacy X while its crew was “monitoring Tritium conversion.” Most of the data they had seen on the screens was simply a mix of energy production and food processing data from Pegasus’s archives. Alkema had endured a moment of panic when the phrase “raspberry filling” had flashed on the screen during a refining process, but fortunately the Hellions did not catch it.

  “Can you disable them?” Driver whispered.

  Wires began to snake out of Jordan’s gauntlet. “Yeah, I should be able to cause a temporary power loss to this section.

  A few seconds work and then the hatch cycled. They moved quickly into Legacy X. The ship was darkened on the inside, and they depended on their Spex as they picked their way as quickly as possible along the Utility Shaft that ran along this edge of the ship. They came to another junction, opened the hatch, and stepped into a passageway.

  Legacy X’s interior took them a bit by surprise, accustomed as they were to the industrial starkness of the Hellion shuttles, Liminix CH-53, and the late Hellfire Station. It was actually… sorta nice, in a Spartan sort of way. The decks were covered with a carpetish padding in a shade of pale brownish red and the walls were a complimentary beige. Anyway, it was clean, and it all appeared to be working.

  Driver checked his schematic. “33 meters ahead, there’s a primary corridor that will lead us to the next docking port.”

  They heard pounding footsteps, a pair of technicians was moving somewhat quickly through the corridor, and ducked into a niche in the corridor. In the dim light, and with the help of their shadow-gear, they avoided detection. The Hellions walked right past them.

  “How long until they figure out we’re here?” Rook asked.

  “We have no way of knowing,” Driver replied. “If the tactical reads were right, most of the crew is already in stasis or preparing for stasis, with just 155 people actually running the ship. Only a fraction of them will be security… hopefully.”