“That’s a good question. I’ve worked aboard both, but it’s tricky to compare without diagrams.” He scratched his chin. “The shape and diameter of the containment shell plays into it, obviously, but the number of levels is a huge factor. I’d say Vivo is a little less than half the size of Aurora for total amount of deck space. Maybe more like a third.”
The cart came to a stop outside a heavy door that now served as an airlock to space. Cheryl hopped out of the cart and peered through a porthole window into a room the size of a large van. The inside of the room was empty, though one wall held a display panel and an array of mechanical levers, knobs, and switches.
“That door on the far side leads out into space?” she asked MacMac.
“It does,” he replied.
“How do anchor cables help?” Hejmo asked as his cart whirred to a stop.
Cheryl turned from the port window, ready to support the cover story.
“We’re still thinking things through,” said MacMac. “Vivo doesn’t have docking rings, a hangar bay, or anything we would normally use to transfer people. When they send a ferry, we need a way to secure it as we load the guests.”
Cheryl stepped in. “This is a good idea, MacMac, but I’ll bet these cable spools were designed to work in gravity where the weight of the anchor gives a constant pulling force. We should spool one out to see how it behaves in a weightless environment.”
MacMac turned his back on Hejmo and tapped a small panel on the wall next to the door, and the big airlock door opened. Cheryl followed him inside, and together they surveyed the small room.
“I hadn’t thought about the pull of the anchor on the spool,” he said. “Now you have me worried about a tangle.”
His delivery made her believe he was sincere rather than contributing to a cover story.
“There must be cameras or something that will let us watch as the cable unspools. We’d see a problem pretty quickly.”
Hejmo joined them inside the airlock but remained silent.
Cheryl noticed an overhead crane with a modest-sized cable spool mounted next to it. “What about the crane?”
MacMac looked up to where she indicated.
“See how the cable, spool, pulleys, and motor are all exposed?” she said. “We can watch as it pays out and know exactly what’s happening.”
“It’s not much cable.”
“It’s enough for now,” said Cheryl.
MacMac shook his head. “The crane needs the outer door open to get cable out. That’s what these controls are for. They’re not automated, so you have to be in here to operate them.” His voice dripping with sarcasm, he continued. “And we don’t have any space coveralls anywhere on Vivo to let us do that. Do we, Hejmo? That would have given away your plan.”
Cheryl could hear the bitterness in MacMac’s voice and sought to defuse the situation. “We’ll put a synbod in here to work the controls.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Can we get heat in here, though? He should be okay as long as we don’t let it get too cold.”
“Hejmo,” said MacMac, “why don’t you work the panel out here while we watch from inside?”
Cheryl started to worry that MacMac’s anger would derail their bigger plans. “Chase, please work the controls. We’ll feed you instructions. Everybody else out.”
As they shuffled out of the airlock, Cheryl realized MacMac’s efforts to make the issue personal helped distract from the bigger questions, like why they were sending out cable at all. With the airlock door shut, Cheryl watched Chase through the viewport.
MacMac tapped and swiped his personal displays so he could watch as well. “Give me a minute to ramp up the heat.”
“Okay, Chase,” said Cheryl when MacMac signaled, “open the outer door.”
Through the port window, she watched the heavy mass slide open to give an intense, magnificent, star-filled view of the Milky Way. Chase stepped to the door and faced outward, his silhouette creating a quiet void in a brilliant sea of lights. Then, in an abrupt action, he returned to the control panel, and the big outer door started to close.
“What are you doing?” asked Cheryl.
“There is an issue I must discuss before we proceed,” said Chase. “You will need to be in here to understand. Please wait a moment while the airlock cycles.”
“What’s happening?” asked Hejmo. “This isn’t what we discussed.”
“Shut your gob and listen to what’s happening around you.” MacMac spat the words. “He just said there’s a problem of some sort.”
Cheryl frowned as she tried to imagine what would cause Chase—a synbod carrying Criss’s enhanced three-gen AI crystal—to act in such a curious manner. A slight hiss signaled the return of air pressure in the small room.
When the door slid open, Chase stepped forward, placing himself between Cheryl and MacMac. In a smooth pirouette, he spun back to face the airlock. As he did, he pressed against MacMac’s shoulder, turning him away from Hejmo.
“Create a diversion for ten seconds,” Chase whispered. As he spoke the words to MacMac, he took Cheryl’s arm and escorted her inside the airlock. The door closed behind them.
Outside, MacMac screamed, “Oh my God, get them off me!” Slapping his skin with his hands, he started a frantic sort of hop. “They’re eating me alive. Stop them!”
He whipped off his shirt and, using it like a flyswatter, struggled to rid himself of his fictitious attackers. Putting his face in front of Hejmo’s, he screamed, “Help me!” Then he started running in a circle on the deck, wailing and screaming and flapping his shirt.
Inside, Chase stood so his back covered the porthole window. Forming his hands into a tube with one end pressed against his mouth, he pressed the other against Cheryl’s ear. A garble of voices confused her, then she detected a soft voice tucked inside what she realized was a deliberate camouflage of sounds.
“Criss is too far away for his signal to pierce the dome,” said Chase, “but when the door opened, I received his beacon message. He and Sid will be waiting for you at Aurora. They have everything handled, so there is no need to take risks. He asks that you cooperate and stay safe until then.”
After he spoke, Chase stepped from the portal window and signaled for the door to reopen, revealing MacMac standing in his cart, waving his shirt, and screeching like a crazed howler monkey.
When Cheryl stepped out, MacMac stopped his antics. “Never mind,” he said to Hejmo as he put his shirt back on and climbed down to the deck.
They all stood in place, no one speaking. Then, in a move so sudden it startled Cheryl, two of the Techs dove at Chase, driving their shoulders into his torso, with all three tumbling together into the airlock. Hejmo signaled the door to close, trapping them inside.
Cheryl and MacMac, watching the fighting synbods, didn’t notice Hejmo stepping up to them from behind. He grabbed them both by the backs of the their necks, the grip so tight it sent waves of pain down Cheryl’s back.
“Charlie!” barked Cheryl. “He’s hurting me. Stop him.”
Though loyal, Charlie was slow to act. The third Tech moved in front of him and blocked his way.
Thump. The noise from inside the airlock sounded like a synbod had just crashed against the sturdy door. Cheryl hoped that Chase was winning, but there was no way to tell given her current predicament.
Hejmo didn’t wait to find out. Guiding them by their necks, he forced them into the front seat of the cart and climbed in behind them. The whole time, MacMac cursed a blue streak, hurling invectives at Hejmo in a nonstop tirade.
From the back seat, Hejmo directed the cart across the deck and toward a lift station. Halfway there, a cart with four Attendants arrived and whirred along next to them. With backup on the scene, Hejmo loosened his grip, though not by much.
During the ride, Hejmo didn’t responded to their questions or offer an explanation. In silence, he and his posse led Cheryl and MacMac to the lift, rode with them up the tower to the sixth floor, and escorted them across
the lobby to Lazura’s project room, similar to the one on MacMac’s floor.
There, Hejmo broke his silence. “Your privileges have been revoked. You are confined here until we reach Aurora.”
MacMac reacted. “Put us over in the office, you glorified bot.”
Hejmo responded by shutting the door, imprisoning them inside.
Moments later, the door opened again.
“Take it easy,” said Juice as an Attendant shoved her inside with them.
Chapter 17
Criss lifted the medical appliance from Sid’s shoulder. “You’ll be as good as new in a couple of days.”
“Can’t you make me better than new?” asked Sid, rotating his arm to test his range of motion.
“Even I can’t improve on perfection.”
Sid smiled. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
Criss felt a touch in his lower lattice. They were still too far away from Vivo for his signal to pierce the protective dome, but he’d been sending a simple message over and over hoping to get lucky. The touch told him he’d beaten the odds. And the good news it carried brought him a surge of relief.
“My broadcast beacon just connected with Chase. He reports that Cheryl and Juice are okay. They’re concerned about us.”
“I’m amazed they would worry about us when they’re living in such danger.”
“I’m pretty sure it was meant as ‘Where the hell are you?’ rather than ‘We hope you are well.’”
Sid nodded. “That makes more sense.”
They sat in the common room at the back of the scout, and Sid rose and started forward. “How long before our meet with Tommy Two-Tone?”
“Twenty minutes,” said Criss, following behind. “We need to push him about the missing fuel, but we also need to gain his buy-in so he’ll cooperate with the hostage exchange.”
“From what Pete says, he’s the kind of guy whose morals are guided by money. We can get him plenty of that. But what’s worrying me is how we proceed with Lazura if we find out we don’t have fuel to trade.”
That’s a good question, thought Criss. Aloud he sought to reassure Sid, knowing at some level that he also wanted to reassure himself. “We’ll get them back. I won’t stop until we do.”
“Nor will I.”
They reached the bridge, and as Sid sat, Criss projected a realistic hovering miniature of the solar system between them. Then he raised the stakes.
“A ship traveling from Aurora to the Kardish home world will most likely follow this path as it travels the outer planets.” He pointed to a line swooping through the image. “I’d like to set an automated strike group right here.” He wiggled his finger near Saturn. “Lazura will fly this way for the gravity assist, so let’s prepare for her.”
“By automated, you mean programmed to destroy Vivo?” asked Sid.
“They’ll destroy any unauthorized vessel passing on that particular outbound path. It’s a backstop if she gives us the slip. And it frees me from keeping watch out there, giving me more resources to use here.”
“What if the hostages are still on board when Vivo reaches the strike group?”
“These are our weapons. I can disarm them with a thought.”
Sid gave a half shrug. “I have no objections.”
Criss reached his awareness out to an installation he kept secreted in a cave on Phobos, the larger of the two moons orbiting Mars, and initiated a programmed launch sequence. An intense brilliance filled the rock hollow as wave after wave of weaponized drones came to life, leaped from the cave mouth, and hurtled into space.
A thousand strong, the swarm of sophisticated missiles moved so fast that internal forces tested the structural integrity of the machines. Yet Criss, seeking even greater speeds, directed the swarm toward Mars itself.
The gravity of the planet pulled on the tiny craft, accelerating the group ever faster as they flashed above the Martian surface. Screaming around behind the red planet, the drones reached speeds so great that when the forces of gravity flung them back into deep space, they were moving fast enough to travel the great distance to Saturn in record time.
“Done,” said Criss as he zoomed the image projection to show a close-up of the ringed planet. “When they arrive, they’ll disperse in a loop around Saturn and out to Titan—this big moon—waiting for Vivo to pass.”
Sid looked up from the image. “We get to Aurora tomorrow, and Vivo arrives the day after. Before then I want to walk the hostage exchange area and get the lay of the land.” He sat up. “Neither vessel has weapons, is that right?”
“Neither has conventional weapons. Both have heavy industrial tools that could be adapted into light weaponry without much effort.”
“Does either have command tech?”
“No, it’s all civilian. On Vivo, Lazura is closer to running blind than she is running a command and control center. She didn’t put anything on board that would cause me to ask questions. But that also means she doesn’t have those things to use.”
The image floating between them flipped to an exterior shot of Vivo.
“She did sneak simple nav and com capability in with the SuperDrives,” said Criss. “And she was clever in incorporating a fair amount of dual-use tech. Some of the equipment she bought for innocent undersea applications works equally well in outer space. But for a ship that big and moving that fast, she could use a lot more capability.”
“And Aurora?”
The image of Vivo disappeared, replaced by a close-up of an impressive black-metallic structure. Detracting from the clean lines of the assembly was a scatter of tiny objects floating next to it.
“Aurora never had command tech, and they’ve disabled or removed most of their societal systems. They’re anti AI to preserve jobs, and they’re anti central record-keeping to preserve privacy and independence. With few data devices, their record is meager. I’m forced to use inference where I should be using fact, and I don’t like it.”
“What’s with the hulks floating outside the shell?”
“That’s new real estate.”
Criss zoomed the image to show a half-dozen star-shaped assemblies floating in space next to Aurora. Each of the shapes was formed by joining the hulls of six cargo ships nose to nose at a central hub.
“By connecting vessels this way, they can use the group as six separate containments or open doors at the hub and form larger connected spaces.”
The view swung to show that the star-shaped assemblies floated free of Aurora.
“Notice how they’re not attached to the platform? This is private property owned by the miners. It does not belong to the company.”
Sid gave Criss a quizzical look.
“Tugs pull sifted ore from here to Earth on a schedule set by the NOAH group,” said Criss. “The miners buy old container ships, load them with food and supplies, and have the tugs drag them back on the return trip. After they offload the cargo, the miners convert the vessel hulls into these.”
“Let me guess, homes for the governors and their pals?”
Criss shook his head. “Most of them are being used for ore purification. Purification is hot, smelly, and dangerous, something they don’t want to do inside the platform containment.”
“They’re purifying ore on what they claim is their own property?”
This time Criss nodded. “On Aurora, company ore is sifted on the lower deck, then it’s packaged for shipment by tug. What the miners are doing, unbeknownst to the company, is refining a second batch of ore in tiny factories in those hulls. Purified ore is compact, making it easy to hide in the sifted ore shipment. Their partners on Earth retrieve it, sell it, and use the funds to purchase more hulls.”
Criss sensed a link request from Tommy on Aurora. “Thirty seconds,” he told Sid. “Tom Touton is one of three members of the board of governors. He’s agreed to talk to us because Pete made an introduction.”
“We need support from Tommy and one other governor?”
“We need all thre
e if we want to do this with official permission and cooperation. That’s how they do things.” Criss paused. “He’s here.”
The image of a man in his mid-fifties resolved on the bridge, his chair set so the three of them formed a tight circle. The newcomer, a slight man in a khaki jumpsuit, radiated confidence with his smug smile.
“Hello, Mr. Touton. I’m Sid and this is Criss.”
Pushing a string of hair behind his ear, he said, “Please, call me Tommy.” Then he looked at Sid. “Hey, are you the guy Pete wanted me to rescue?”
“That’s me.” Sid nodded.
“I’m glad she found someone to do that, because she was getting hysterical when everyone here turned her down.”
Sid frowned. “Didn’t she offer enough money?”
“The money was great, but the coordinates she sent us were pretty far out there. We aren’t equipped to help on something like that.”
Criss thought the response reasonable, but the dismissive tone drew his suspicion. As he mulled the matter, Sid continued.
“We’re trying to rescue thirty-five people who’ve been kidnapped and are being flown to Aurora against their will. Lives are at stake, and we need your help.”
“What can we do for you?”
“We think there will be an opportunity for a hostage exchange right on Aurora. Criss and I would like to come aboard and work up a plan with you.”
Tommy laughed. “Thirty-five people? Where do you propose we put them?”
“Anywhere is fine. We aren’t asking anyone to give up their bed.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible.”
“They’ll die if you don’t help.”
Tommy nodded. “There is tragedy happening in a thousand places across the solar system. We live in difficult times.”
“Can we come aboard to meet with you and the other governors? We’ll pay well for your troubles.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible. What else can I do for you?” he asked with a face devoid of emotion.
“There must be something we have that you want.”
“It’s time for my next meeting. Best wishes with your difficulties.”
Crystal Escape Page 17
