Invisible Enemy

by Ken Britz

  Laser fire flickered from the central shaft. Estaban flinched, struck.

  Mitchum pulled her away as gauss rounds pinged around the control room. He returned fire.

  “I’m all right,” Estaban said. “I was looking down. Hit the back of my helmet but didn’t penetrate. My suit is alarming though. Must’ve hit one of the processing systems.”

  Tan floated cautiously to the shaft. “Hel. It’s Reed and Jin. They’re coming forward.” He fired an entire magazine of pulse bolts up the shaft.

  “What’s there besides the fins and torpedo bays?” Cowan asked.

  “Armory, gravitic impeller—” Tan stopped. “Shit. He might go for the impeller’s fusion core.”

  Kenga frowned. “If he gets to the local controls, he can set it to overload.”

  “Don’t you have command lockouts for this sort of thing?” Mitchum said. “It takes a lot to get around safety interlocks to blow a fusion core.”

  Kenga frowned. “There have been changes to our command structure since the Secession, commander. Yes, I have lockout commands, but certain systems have been… abdicated over the solyars.”

  “That seems like a shitty way to run a fleet,” Cowan observed.

  Kenga pulled up her tactical and system functions and read the stream of system overrides. She flicked to the damage reports. Nine hull generators were offline, with seventeen more in marginal status.

  The ship’s alert pulsed purple and the ship’s computer chimed, “Gravity core overload commenced. Core overload buildup to supercritical in ten minutes. Override and countermand is expired.”

  “What the hell?” Cowan said.

  “That was fast,” Mitchum said.

  “It looks like our proconsul has elected to execute his final option.” Kenga’s fingers flew over the controls, but her command parameters and preemptive commands were ignored. She met Cowan’s eyes. “I can’t override what he set for the core.”

  “We could go forward. Knocking out any one subsystem should cause the magnetic bottle to collapse. It’ll explode before it reaches supercriticality, but not big bad explode. Little bad”

  Kenga shook her head. “I doubt we could get control of the impeller compartment before that happens.” She looked at Cowan. “We’re out of time and the Venger will need to get away.” Kenga tapped the PA circuit. “Attention, Kuro. The ship is compromised and will self-destruct in less than nine minutes. I cannot override it.”

  She paused, as if her next words were too painful to say. “Abandon ship.” She tapped the command into the ship controls, and the ship’s alarm flashed orange and purple.

  The ship’s computer chimed. “Abandon ship. All personnel to assigned or nearest life boat stations. This is not a drill. Abandon ship…”

  “Permission to shoot that asshole?” Tan said, his hand twitching on his rifle. A medbot climbed over his suit and he waved it away.

  Kenga sagged into her creche, too weak to move and closed her eyes.

  Lin started toward her, but Tan was first. “Skipper? Orders, ma’am?” Tan asked.

  Kenga opened her eyes. “Abandon ship. Venger will pick up the crew and get them away. I’ll get the Kuro to a safe distance.” She transferred ship’s piloting controls to her creche. The controls were locked out, but she still had maneuvering thrust. “Eight minutes, Gunnar.”

  “Just like that? We give her up?” Tan said.

  “We don’t have enough time to save Kuro. She’s just a ship. Her crew is what’s important. You want Dale’s death to be for nothing?”

  “Chief Dale?” Cowan said.

  Tan lit up. “You know him?”

  “Not really. We have his body. He passed us when we were dead in space. We picked him up for disposition.”

  Tan nodded. “I’ll head forward and clear this part of the ship.”

  “I’ll head aft,” Wagoner said. “I’ll clear the after part of the ship and get in a lifeboat. I hope it’s worth it, skipper.”

  “There are Venger crew aft,” Cowan said.

  “I’ll assist,” Estaban said, following Wagoner.

  Kenga’s head was heavy. She hurt.

  “Can someone explain?” Mitchum said.

  Kenga slipped into unconsciousness.

  30

  HFSS Kuro Hai

  Rigel B Inner System

  0137 U.Z.

  1254.12.15 A.F.

  “We’re down to seven minutes just talking to you, sir,” Cowan said.

  “Very well, get them clear. I already have reports that most of our crew are on their way back, bringing Kuro personnel. I’ll do what I can.” Rogers switched channels.

  “Engineering, Captain, what can you give me in five minutes?” Rogers asked. He was alone on the bridge. Boarding parties were getting Hegemony spacers aboard as fast as they could. He’d moved the ship alongside Kuro to recover personnel and allow lifeboats to cling to his hull like barnacles. Gravity pulses rippled from the Kuro like heat from a mirage.

  The gravity impeller is an amazing piece of technology, part of him mused.

  “Up to one secondary now and maneuvering thrusters,” the engineering officer reported, breaking him from his momentary distraction. “We’re working to cross-connect the mains. The port engine is operable, but only twenty percent thrust, if that. The drive cone is damaged.”

  “Very well. When you feel thrust, give us full acceleration of whatever you have. Everything. That’s a standing order.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When had this fight became a rescue operation? That was, he realized, a silly question. If it was a rescue operation. They would be lucky to get Venger away before Kuro’s drive core exploded. He switched to the command comm. “XO, you’ve got five minutes.”

  “I won’t be able to comply, sir. Most of the sub’s crew is evacuated and we’re looking for options.”

  “Is there another option?”

  “It will involve some creative thinking but I won’t be returning to Venger in the time allotted.”

  “If we survive, I’ll bring Venger around to pick you up.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Cowan said, then her voice fell. “My personal log is updated. In case I don’t make it back, sir.”

  “Understood. You’re going to make a great ship’s captain, Amber.”

  “Thank you, sir. I have to go now, Jolly. The sub will be moving. If you’ve got thrust…”

  “I’ll move away at the last possible second, Amber.” Rogers sat down in his creche and brought up the pilot’s controls and sensor display. He’d left Mitchum on that sub and Cowan was his right hand. Rogers hoped all of this was worth it. He considered several ways to get Kuro out of range, none of which were viable, trying not to think about Cowan’s survival chances. He regretted his decision but faced it a captain should. It was wartime and decisions, good and bad had to be made. He would live on, his conscience scarred. But for now, it was heavy in his gut.

  He looked at the chronometer. Not much time left. He switched on the PA system. “This is the Captain. Strap down where you can—” Only two lifeboats were left. Should I leave them? They could be empty. Thrust indications came on his display. He waited a few precious seconds for the final lifeboats to adhere to the hull then grabbed the throttle and pushed it to the redline. Gravity pressed him down, though within human tolerance due to lack of power—besides, the lifeboats didn’t have inertial dampeners. Venger shook like a dog trying to shed the lifeboats like fleas from. More power came online, and he edged the throttle higher, increasing gravity. Optics locked onto the Kuro and he watched the ship and the debris field around it dwindle into the inky black. He switched off the display and pushed the engines as hard as they would go. It wasn’t much, and only giving them half a gravity of inertial acceleration, but it was enough to get moving. Outside it was close to the human tolerance of nine gravities—a fraction of what Venger could do, but he had to keep the crews safe. Venger shuddered, her body damaged but steady on course away from the Kuro
. He hoped there was enough time.

  “Conn, sensors. Torpedo launch from enemy sub!” Sensors reported. At this range there was no light delay and little time to respond.

  Rogers pulled up the tactical display, but Weps was prepared.

  “Launching countermeasures,” he replied on the open channel. “I have forward ring capacity.”

  “Not enough time,” Rogers said. The ship only had seconds. The starboard drive cone came online. Rogers spun Venger, away from the incoming torpedoes, a pair arcing in impossibly fast. He only had to wait a second for the torpedoes to be within the thrust cone. He activated the starboard thrust manifold and slammed the throttle. The torpedoes, locked onto the ship, couldn’t avoid the intense blast of the starboard drive, and exploded.

  Rogers slammed back into his creche as the ship leaped forward. His fingers trembled over the all stop but he waited. The crew could take a few seconds… and it might be enough to get them outside the destruction. His vision went black, and he slapped the button blind.

  31

  HFSS Kuro Hai

  Rigel B Inner System

  0140 U.Z.

  1254.12.15 A.F.

  “Gravitic core overload in four minutes, thirty seconds,” the ship’s computer chimed.

  “Shut up,” Mitchum growled.

  Dr. Lin injected a stim cocktail into the medical port on Kenga’s suit. Her eyes fluttered open.

  “Ow,” she said.

  “Karine,” Lin said. “The ship is in self-destruct.”

  “Oh, yes,” Kenga agreed.

  “We have to go!”

  Kenga’s eyes were unfocused. “We won’t be able to get away. The fusion core explosion will pull the… other ship into its gravity wave.”

  “Cowan has an idea,” Dr. Lin said to her friend.

  “Cowan?”

  Cowan tapped Kenga’s command console. “Ma’am,” Cowan said. “You need to activate the ship’s subspace field.”

  “Oh yes,” Kenga said, nodding. “Take the ship into subspace. That will help disperse the explosion.”

  Cowan nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.

  “Are we really going to do this?” Mitchum said.

  “The ship is moving into subspace,” Lin said. “The hull generators that protect the ship have overlapping fields for redundancy and integrity. But if too few are working, or there’s a gap in the subspace bubble… it will annihilate the matter inside the ship.”

  Cowan sighed heavily. “The deeper the translation, the more it will mitigate the damage, right? No telling what it will do to multi-dimensional space but fuck it.”

  “Gravitic core overload in four minutes,” the ship’s computer chimed.

  “My crew?” Kenga asked, tapping the controls. She brought up the commands and set the overrides. The system flashed ‘IMMEDIATE TRANSLATION’ and then ‘WARNING: SUBSPACE INTEGRITY FIELD COMPROMISED. TRANSLATION INTO SUBSPACE OUTCOME PROBABLE DESTRUCTION OF OWNSHIP.’ Kenga overrode the alert and continued with the translation.

  Cowan nodded. “I spoke to Rogers. We’re taking on your crew. Fighting has more or less stopped. Anyone who jumps to Venger or into space will be picked up once we regain power.”

  “All right, I’ve set to translate ten seconds before detonation,” Kenga said, and as if in reply, the purple translation alert pulsed on in tandem with the orange-red of the gravitic overload alert.

  “Gravitic core overload in three minutes, thirty seconds,” the ship’s computer chimed.

  “Nearest lifeboat or ’lock?” Cowan asked Lin.

  Lin glanced up at the emergency displays. “Captain’s cabin, one deck up.”

  “Can we leave her?” Mitchum said.

  “No, we can’t. She is the message. There’s no other copy.” Everything was surreal to Lin, as though it wasn’t happening to her. She focused on her friend.

  “Well, let’s go! We’re out of time, people,” Cowan said. “Mitchum, grab the captain.”

  “I got her,” Mitchum said, yanking Kenga out of her creche. Cowan and Lin swam to the ladder to the forward/upper deck.

  Gauss fire ricocheted off the open hatch and Lin flinched. Cowan yanked Lin down out of the line of fire.

  “What the hell!” Cowan said, firing a short pulse bolt burst up the hatch.

  “It’s the proconsul,” Lin said. “I think he’s in the captain’s cabin. That must be where he activated the core buildup. That’s why he was able to do it so fast. Where’s Tan?”

  “Three minutes,” the ship chimed.

  Lin switched to the ship’s circuit. “Tan?”

  “Thanks for telling me now. Is there another way up?” Cowan said.

  “The lift, but there’s only one way into the cabin, except for the lifeboat.” Lin paused. “There’s an airlock below the bridge. No lifeboats, though.”

  Another gauss shot ricocheted off the hatch.

  “Kenga!” Cowan said. She checked down the ladderwell.

  “I’m here,” Kenga whispered.

  “Two minutes, thirty seconds,” the ship chimed.

  “Do you have anything important in your cabin?” Cowan said, checking her rifle. “Too late.” She launched a grenade, and the boom reverberated through the deck. “I don’t think I got him but go while it’s clear.”

  “I got it,” Mitchum said. He moved Kenga to the carry position and went to the hatch.

  Cowan said, “Javy, get to the nearest lock and prepare for emergency decompress.”

  “All right. My locator beacon is on if you need to find me,” he replied. He climbed down the ladder, carrying Kenga, who looked like a lifeless rag doll to Lin.

  “Go, doctor. We’re out of time! I’ll be right behind you, gods willing,” Cowan said to Lin.

  “Gravitic core overload in two minutes.”

  Not enough time! Lin thought and pulled herself down the ladder after Mitchum.

  “I got it,” Lin said, pushing Mitchum aside and working the airlock controls. The inner door opened, and she helped Kenga in. She slid into an EVA pack and opened the outer doors.

  Cowan’s scream came over the open comm line.

  “Amber’s hurt!” Mitchum said.

  “I’ll get her,” Lin replied. “Stay with Kenga.”

  “To hell with that! If she’s important, so are you, doctor! Take her and get the fuck away from the ship!” Mitchum pushed Kenga into her arms, shoved Lin into space, and cycled the lock. He pulled on a second EVA pack and grabbed another and swam up the hatch.

  Lin wrapped her arms around Kenga and jumped from the ship as the computer chimed, “Gravitic core overload in one minute thirty seconds.” She set thrust to maximum and shot away from Kuro Hai.

  Cowan spun and slammed into the bulkhead, bouncing back. Pain lanced through her ribcage. She lost her grip on her pulse rifle. Another shot hit her shoulder, and it went numb. The rifle went spinning and all Cowan could think was how disappointed her father would’ve been. Don’t fuck it up, he always said. Well, she fucked it up.

  “Gravitic core overload in one minute,” the ship’s computer chimed. Sorry, Dad.

  “I got you, ma’am,” a voice said on the common band. It was Kuro’s weapons officer—Tan—from the hatch above. He returned fire into the captain’s cabin deck. “Best get going now, ma’am!”

  Mitchum’s helmet popped out of the deck below. “You okay?”

  “I’m shot!” Cowan said, holding her arm. “I thought I got the bastard!”

  “That makes two of us.” Mitchum grabbed her leg and yanked her down the ladder, then slapped an EVA pack to her back. “Did you get him?”

  “No, but he’s someone else’s problem now.” Shadows flickered in the hatch above—maybe it was a helmet or the flash of a weapon.

  “Gravitic core overload in thirty seconds,” the ship’s computer chimed.

  “You ever think you’d be helping the enemy?” Mitchum asked throwing her at the airlock. Cowan spun, too much in pain to activate the EVA. Mitchum was behi
nd her.

  “Twenty… nineteen…”

  “Depends on who you think is the enemy,” Cowan said, and then added. “No, I didn’t think I would help the enemy on a ship that’s about to blow up. A few days ago I was on routine patrol…”

  EVA control request flashed, and Cowan accepted. She spun around to see the Kuro.

  “Eleven… ten…” The ship rippled and darkened, shifting into subspace. She glanced at her chronometer.

  “That worked, right?” Mitchum said.

  “I think—” Something tossed Cowan end over end in space tumbling like a die on a game board.

  When she regained consciousness, it had that fuzzy quality that came from painkillers.

  “Amber?” Mitchum said, his voice tinny and distorted. He was on the proximity circuit, which meant he was close.

  “Uh,” Cowan started, licking her lips and then taking a sip from her drinking tube. Her eyes had trouble focusing on her display. “How long?”

  “Just a few minutes. All things considered, that was a gentle fusion core explosion.” Static buzzed through most of Cowan’s systems. Someone had activated spectrum countermeasures recently.

  She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was an enemy ship, but they were all spacers and fleet crew. There was a bond between a ship and its crew… and between a captain and her ship. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss for the Kuro Hai. It made her think of Juan-Felipe aboard the Megaton. Was he safe? Was he alive, or a victim of war?

  Her eyes finally focused, and she found her EVA controls, using its thrusters to slow her spin. Mitchum was close, as well as two other suits, blinking on her heads-up display.

  Dr. Lin sent Cowan a medical connect request and she accepted.

  “I can’t really treat you while we’re in space, but I can do a little better than your spacesuit,” Lin said as she and Mitchum closed range to the two subspacers, one in white, the other in black.

  “She was a good ship,” Kenga remarked on the proximity circuit and Cowan decided she’d missed part of the conversation. Unconsciousness will do that do you.