Heroes: A Raconteur House Anthology

by Honor Raconteur

  So, all the work had been for naught, Vladimir mused dejectedly, a hollowness in his chest. They had staved off destruction of the Vanya for only a few hours. He was still doomed to a fiery death upon re-entry. And this time around, all that the Sveta could do would be to evacuate everyone from the Vanya before the ship made the elliptical swing back to Earth.

  “I suppose there isn’t another ship that could reach us in time,” Vladimir asked, though he already knew the answer.

  “I’m sorry, Colonel, there isn’t,” General Kandinsky replied. “Colonel, you can’t believe the turmoil your ship has caused here on Earth. When your ship buzzed over Hong Kong, the Chinese government threatened to go to war! The Chinese ambassador in Moscow stormed into President’s Luski’s office! Have you ever seen a Chinese official yell? It’s not a pretty sight. And then your ship buzzed even lower over Tainan! And now it looks like South America is threatened. The Chinese are promising to blow the Kruzenshtern out of the sky, as a general favor to the rest of the world! And India has offered to help! When was the last time that India and China ever agreed on anything?!”

  Vladimir winced.

  “Sir, I…”

  The general cut him off. “You are hereby ordered by President Luski herself, to evacuate your ship as soon as the Savitskaya makes rendezvous with you. Let the Kruzenshtern continue on its way. It will be targeted and destroyed by a Chinese missile barrage from one of their battlecruisers before it enters the Earth’s atmosphere. Do you understand your orders?”

  “General, sir…”

  “Do. You. Understand.”

  Vladimir gulped, a sour taste in his mouth. “Yes, sir, I understand.”

  Kandinsky nodded bleakly. “I know what you’ve been through the last few hours. No commander likes to lose his command, Colonel. But for the good of world peace, this is the way it must be. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about all of this. I wish that we could make it up to you, but you know the reality of the situation you are in, don’t you, Commander?”

  Vladimir slowly nodded, his mood one of deep weariness. “Yes, sir, I understand.”

  “The Savitskaya will take you and your crew to the Gagarin Orbital Station,” the general informed him. “You’ll take the first shuttle from there down to Elista. I’ll meet you here in about twelve hours.” And with that, the general’s image vanished.

  Not even time for a few hours’ rest before they lowered the ax on him, huh? There would be no chance for sleep or even a good hot shower on the Sveta. So he would arrive at Elista bleary-eyed, in pain due to his injured arm, and sleep deprived. Yes, he was about to be the scapegoat for the entire fiasco. Completely unfair but understandable.

  Opinchuk sighed and shifted nervously in his command chair. “I am sorry, Colonel. I too believed in this project.” With a glance at a nearby monitor, he continued. “In thirty minutes, we will make our first burn, to alter our course towards you.”

  “Thanks, Colonel,” Vladimir mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed.

  “Of course,” the other man replied dutifully. And then he terminated the link.

  Frowning, Vladimir left the engine bay, floating through the archway into the control center, where he pulled himself into his command chair and sat still for several moments, staring off into nothingness.

  “Colonel?”

  He turned to face the speaker. “Oh, Dr. Dubov. There you are. I haven’t had the chance yet to thank you for staying aboard and helping us with our repair efforts. Thank you.”

  “Colonel, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was in the engine bay and I heard your end of that conversation. I, ah, gather that our efforts may have been in vain? Is that correct? Have you been ordered to evacuate the Johann Kruzenshtern?”

  “Yes, Doctor, I have.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “I wish I had another option, but I don’t. We will have to abandon ship.”

  “The drive, sir. I’ve visually performed a close inspection of it. Sir, I think it’s in working order,” she slowly said, watching his face intently.

  He grunted. “So, all we need is several hundred megawatts and we could use the drive to save the ship. Simpler than a stewed turnip, right?”

  “The lack of power is the biggest problem, yes,” Dr. Dubov replied in agreement, then chewed on her lip as she hesitated. “And if you had access to enough power, would you take the chance, Colonel? To save the ship?”

  With an incredulous stare, Vladimir swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Doctor, are you telling me you have a multi-megawatt fusion power source in your hip pocket?”

  With her voice on the edge of cracking, she responded, “I know of a power source, yes. But Colonel, it will not be easy.” She looked intently at his expression. “Hear me out, okay?”

  “Doctor, believe me, you have my full and undivided attention.”

  Time was short. Incredibly short. And sitting there, every minute wasted was a luxury that he just couldn’t afford.

  He needed to make a decision. If he waited too long…well, that was a decision too, wasn’t it?

  He stared at Dr. Dubov, who floated nearby, watching him, waiting for him to say something, to make his decision.

  She had indeed given him an option. There was a power source available, one within reach, one that could, potentially, theoretically, be used to save his ship, to save the Johann Kruzenshtern from destruction.

  Oh, but the price! The cost was so incredibly high! And so too was the risk! Any number of things might go wrong and then where would he be? Where would his crew be? And the ship might still be destroyed, burned to a crisp upon atmospheric re-entry, the smashed remains buried deep in the center of an impact crater in South America. Or blown to smithereens by Chinese missiles. And Dr. Dubov’s plan could potentially make things infinitely worse than they already were if it didn’t work, because it risked much more than just the ship. Much more than just that.

  He put his head in his hands. Never in his career—indeed, never in his entire life—had he faced a decision such as this one!

  On the one hand, if Dr. Dubov’s plan worked (and there was considerable doubt in his mind that it would) then the ship would be saved. More than that, the gravitic drive program would go on. The experts would figure out why the fusion power plant on the Vanya had exploded, the problem would be fixed, and the Russian government would proceed to build even more gravitic drive ships. And Vladimir understood very well the significance of what that meant to the future of the Russian people.

  But even if her idea was successful, it would still end his career decisively. At a minimum, he would be court-martialed for disobeying orders. He might even be sent to jail. Without a doubt, life for him would effectively be over, at least in terms of any contribution he could ever make to society again. Indeed, his very name might become tainted, alongside that of Ivan the Terrible or Leon Trotsky.

  And that was if her idea actually worked. If it didn’t, then he might as well stay aboard the Vanya and die when the ship was destroyed.

  Dr. Dubov clearly understood what she was asking him to do. He could see that in her eyes. That was why she was waiting so patiently, though she too understood how precious the seconds were that he might be wasting here.

  His career, his life, versus the possible future of Russia.

  When they had offered him this command, he had dared to believe in this ship and in the gravitic drive. He had dared to dream a great dream. He had found the future promised by the gravitic drive to be important, something worthy of his time and talents, something that would benefit all of humanity. But he should have remembered that there was always a price for such dreams and there would always be obstacles to overcome. The question was, did he believe in it strongly enough, was he prepared to make great sacrifices for that dream, was he prepared to move forward and to take advantage of every possibility for its success?

  And deep inside himself, he felt the strength of his convictions. The answer was a very emphatic yes, he did
believe in this project enough to take the risks involved. With all of his heart and soul, he did believe in the gravitic drive program enough to accept Dubov’s challenge. What Russian patriot could answer differently?

  Were there really any options here? Of course, he would still have to convince Opinchuk to cooperate. He might not be able to, of course. But Vladimir knew how patriotic Opinchuk was too, down deep in his heart.

  With the weight of the entire future of Russia riding upon his shoulders, Vladimir Ushakov took a deep painful breath, clenched his jaw, and gave Dr. Dubov a curt nod. Then he mentally opened a PHUD channel.

  “Lt. Istomin. Get with Dr. Dubov. Shunt power from the backups to the gravitic engine consoles and start running diagnostics. Find everything that’s wrong with the drive and start fixing it. And hurry, Lieutenant!”

  Anxiously watching the countdown clock on his PHUD display, Lt. Col. Grigory Opinchuk, seated at his console, activated a channel to Col. Ushakov.

  “Sir, we have five minutes until burn,” he reported to his superior. “Everything is ready here. We have another burn fifteen minutes after that and then we will rendezvous with the Kruzenshtern ten minutes after that. Please be ready to evacuate to the Savitskaya at that time.”

  The small holographic image of Col. Ushakov nodded absently, then said, “Colonel.” Pause. “Grigory…I have a hypothetical question for you.”

  Opinchuk was instantly wary. “Sir, I have an intense dislike for hypothetical questions.”

  Vladimir seemed not to hear the reply. “Let us suppose that a commander has a choice between following the orders of his superior officer, and in the process, violating his sworn oath of allegiance to protect Mother Russia…or disobeying those orders, sacrificing his career and perhaps even his life, but in the process protecting a vitally important asset, an asset that will greatly enhance Russia’s future and could, perhaps, be vital for her defense as well. What would you advise that commander to do?”

  Eyes widening, Opinchuk stared in growing surprise at Vladimir. “You know of a way to save the Kruzenshtern?” he asked slowly.

  Vladimir nodded sagely. “I do. You have less than four minutes to make your decision. If you decide that duty is more important than orders, you must cancel your burn. If you do, I will take full responsibility. You personally, are not at risk. You will simply be following my orders.”

  It was a very thin veil of protection and both men clearly understood that reality extremely well.

  Opinchuk glanced at the clock, remorselessly counting down the seconds. “Quickly, Vladimir, what is your plan?”

  The Vanya’s commander waved his right hand in an indifferent manner. “All the Vanya needs is power and he can save himself. I propose that we temporarily borrow, for a couple of hours, a powersat to provide the power.”

  “A powersat?” the Sveta’s commander replied incredulously. “But there are only a handful of those left in operation…О, мой Бог! You can’t be…! You want to steal the Pawa Maru! It’s the only powersat anywhere near enough to be moved to a rendezvous with the Kruzenshtern! You are certifiably nuts! The Japanese will go mad! It’s insane! You’ll never get approval to do this!”

  Again, Vladimir firmly nodded. “There isn’t time for approval anyway. It comes down to you. I am willing to risk my career and even the lives of my crew to save the Kruzenshtern. And maybe even the future of Russia as well. It is my solemn duty. It is time now for you to make your decision. What will it be? Allow the Chinese to blast a Russian ship out of space? Or act to protect that ship? Choose now, Grigory.”

  There were only a couple of minutes left to make the decision. Opinchuk’s mind wildly ran in circles. What to do? Yes, the Kruzenshtern was important. A new type of drive, one that would secure for centuries to come the superpower status of the Russian Federation. It would be Russian ships that would secure the asteroid belt and the outer planets and even the comets, and all the vast resources implied by that capability. It would be Mother Russia that would set policy, control the space lanes, and influence the path and lifestyle of all of humanity. Without the gravitic drive, the incessant bitter petty squabbling between nations would go on—and blast his soul, Vladimir was right—Russia might need ships with gravitic drive to provide for her defense, especially against the endless hordes of Chinese potentially stacked against her in the next possible world war!

  Opinchuk was not a selfless man, no more so than any other ambitious officer in the Russian Federation. To deliberately disobey an order (and one from the President of the Russian Federation, no less!) was the ultimate in insubordination, a near guarantee of being court-martialed, despite the colonel’s offer to provide protection via a set of “orders.”

  And yet, Opinchuk dearly loved Mother Russia. When he had voluntarily joined the military, he had clearly understood that he might one day have to make the ultimate sacrifice of his life to protect his country. And he had vowed to himself that if that day came, he would not hesitate. And truth be told, his career was not one whit more important than his life.

  In an instant, Opinchuk knew that Vladimir had seen and understood this aspect of his character and the other man had not hesitated to use it against him. For a moment—but only a moment—Opinchuk resented being played and manipulated in this fashion. But Opinchuk thrust the emotion aside. It served no purpose in helping him to make his decision. And in reality, there really was no alternative here.

  “Give me the order, sir,” Opinchuk hissed heatedly. “And I’ll obey it.”

  FOUR

  The Svetlana Savitskaya made a corrective burn, placing the craft on an interception course toward the Pawa Maru. One of the last generation of powersats constructed thirty years previously, the Pawa Maru consisted of six large reflective arrays, using a metalized plastic film for the mirrors, carbon nano-tubes for the guy wires, and stays and an electric gyro stabilizer system to keep the mirrors pointed sunward while the microwave transmitter remained pointing Earthward. The powersat in geosynchronous orbit had provided much needed electrical power to the Japanese islands in a day when fission nuclear power plants were being permanently phased out of operation.

  And, as in all things related to technology, the powersats themselves were now on their way toward obsolescence. With the need for the powersats now diminished, the Pawa Maru had been relocated in orbit to provide electrical power to the Hawaiian Islands.

  Opinchuk knew that a fusion power plant was under construction by the Japanese for the Hawaiian Islands, but that it was at least two years away from initial operations. Thus the Hawaiian Islands still depended on the Pawa Maru for the vast majority of its electrical power needs—and they would scream in murderous fury if they lost that power for even a couple of minutes, let alone the few hours that Col. Ushakov intended to “borrow” it for.

  Assuming that the colonel’s plan even worked as he envisioned it. Opinchuk had not been born the day before. It was probably not going to work as easily as Ushakov wanted it to. The concept was simple enough: use the Sveta to tow the Pawa Maru into docking position with the Vanya, then connect a cable from the powersat, power up the gravitic drive, and then move all three back to geosynchronous orbit to await rescue.

  However, Vladimir was making the assumption that the gravitic drive was undamaged or could at least be made to work in a fairly short order. In truth, Istomin and Dubov had just started running diagnostics and therefore did not know the true state of the drive. If the drive could not be resurrected, then the Kruzenshtern, the Savitskaya and the Pawa Maru would all be stuck in the same orbital path, all bent toward a re-entry over South America, or as a realistic possibility, a Chinese missile barrage over the Amazon basin.

  The gamble here could not involve higher stakes. All the lives on board all three ships would be forfeit if the plan failed. The damage that would occur to Russian prestige in the world would be enormous.

  Col. Ushakov had better be right or Opinchuk intended to endlessly haunt the other man’s sou
l in purgatory until the crack of doom.

  There was one other complication in the plan. The Pawa Maru was currently manned by a small temporary maintenance team of Japanese electricians and engineers. The exact count was unknown but thought to be around ten people, as best as unofficial sources on the internet could tell him. If they resisted, those ten Japanese individuals could prevent him from using the Pawa Maru. Or, if they possessed firearms, there could even be shooting and people could potentially be killed here.

  Opinchuk hoped not. Indeed, he was gambling that everything would go as planned. Borrow a little power for two hours and save a ship. If the Japanese government screamed, which seemed a certainty, then the Russian government would pay a penalty of a couple billion rubles for “damages.” Considering the stakes involved, it was a cheap enough price.

  With a mental command, he opened a PHUD channel. “Mayday, Mayday, Pawa Maru, this is the Russian space cruiser Svetlana Savitskaya approaching your position. Repeat, Mayday, Mayday, Pawa Maru, this is the Russian space cruiser Svetlana Savitskaya approaching your position. We are declaring an emergency at this time. Pawa Maru, please respond.”

  The reply was nearly instantaneous and delivered in nearly perfect unaccented Russian. “Russian space cruiser Svetlana Savitskaya, please state the nature of your emergency.”

  Opinchuk took a deep breath before he replied. He wished he had the talent known as “salesmanship.” What the situation needed was Col. Ushakov’s ability on that score. Opinchuk knew himself to lack salesmanship; indeed, he couldn’t sell water to a man dying of thirst in the desert. He was highly doubtful that he could convince the Japanese to “loan” him the use of their powersat.

  “Pawa Maru, we need to borrow a little electrical power, please, for the spacecraft Johann Kruzenshtern…”