“No, but there’s something like a 20-foot coelacanth that may be worse”, she’d said.
“Okay, time to go in now.”
“No, it’s a deep water fish, they usually don’t bother surfers.”
“’Usually’?”
We ended up lazing on the beach, talking. I was staring into her eyes, lost, when she said “Don’t fall in.”
“What? We’re on the beach, not on the surfboards.”
“No, I mean the way you’re looking at me. We both have to go our separate ways in few days, don’t get carried away.” It may have been too late for that.
“I’m retired, I don’t have to go anywhere.”
“Well I’m not, and I do. We’re having fun now, Jay, don’t spoil it.”
Spoiling it was the last thing I wanted to do. I changed the subject. “Sorry. So, how did you learn to surf so well?” She’d been amazing out there on the waves when she didn’t have me to worry about.
“I grew up in Hawaii, my dad was an astrophysicist at the university.” She sat up. “Oh, and speaking of astrophysics, I have some errands I need to run this afternoon.” She started to pull her things together.
Had I scared her off? I shouldn’t have made that stupid remark about being retired. But maybe she really did have something she needed to do. I needed more data. “Say, can I buy you dinner? I hear Parry’s is good.” In truth I’d only seen their ad at the hotel, but it seemed upscale.
“That would be lovely, but not Parry’s. There’s a nice little place just off the beach, I could meet you there. It has some interesting native food.”
“Not jellyfish, I hope?”
She laughed. How could I not fall in love with an intelligent goddess who appreciates my sense of humor? “No, but we can ask about filet of coelacanth,” she said, grinning.
* * *
I got there early (anxious, who me?) and waited at the bar. I’d just finished explaining to the bartender that when you make a Nervous Nellie, the last ingredient is the liquid nitrogen, when Renee arrived. I felt my breath sucked away again. She was, as always, gorgeous, with her hair swept back and wearing a ballet dress with flowing skirts and a snug bodice patterned with something that sparkled. “Wow” I said. She smiled.
We didn’t have filet of coelacanth, or jellyfish, but it was during dinner that I got the bad news.
“Yesterday you said something about organizing an expedition,” I said. “What’s that about?”
“It’s the Eta Carinae expedition.” She said it as though I should know what that meant.
“Eta Carinae?” It sounded like a star name.
“A super massive star about 7500 light years away, it already had one false supernova event a few hundred years ago.”
“Oh. I’d thought you meant some kind of archaeological expedition, with the ruins here.”
“What? Oh, no, I’m an astrophysicist.”
“Oh. Following in your father’s footsteps? So what’s the expedition?”
“We’re going to study it. We want to get some warning of when it goes, or went, hypernova.”
“But 7500 light years?” I did the math. “That’d take you fifteen years to get there, even assuming you could stay in warp the whole time.” Starships are size-limited, the warp bubble can’t be made big enough to let them hold more than a couple of dozen light years’ worth of fusion fuel.
“We’re not going all the way there. For one thing, we can’t; it’s embedded in a massive gas and dust nebula.” When matter encounters a warp bubble, it gets ripped apart by the tide at the warp boundary, and some of the resulting energy release comes through as radiation. Most of interstellar space is empty enough to be harmless, but a nebula or dust cloud could be lethal. “But mostly we don’t need to. For all we know it’s already gone hypernova. If we can, we just want to get close enough to set up a listening post that will give us plenty of warning. Two hundred light years nearer will give us that many years warning, if the wavefront isn’t already closer than that. We’ll need it.”
“Bad?”
“We’re talking about a hypernova here. They thought it went supernova back in 1843. It outshone everything in Earth’s sky except Sirius, but it’s still there. It’s flickered a few times since. When it really blows, it will be brighter than the rest of the galaxy combined. The terraformed planets should be okay, their magnetospheres and atmospheres will protect them, but anything and anyone in space or on an airless body would be in trouble. If it sends a gamma ray burst our way, well, that’s an extinction event.” She paused, a somber look on her face. Then she smiled and shook her head. “But T-space is off axis for that . . . if it isn’t precessing.”
“I had no idea.” I hadn’t, my interest in astronomy had been mostly limited to navigating around the forty or so light year bubble of nearer stars known as T-Space.
“The scary thing is it might have already detonated; our astrophysical models and data aren’t quite good enough to know. It’s unlikely, but the wavefront could be here next week.”
I thought about that, of massive waves of gamma and x-rays sleeting through space, killing anyone caught offplanet, destroying satellites, devastating space stations. The impact would be horrendous, or worse. “So you’re going out to set up early warning posts.”
She nodded and swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “That and general exploration too. We want to see how far in that direction we find terraformed planets, and whatever else is out there.”
I felt a knot in my stomach that wasn’t from the dinner. Renee had already mentioned a couple of hundred light years. “So, you’re not talking about a short trip, are you?”
She smiled a wry smile. “No. At least six months in warp, each way. Plus time to explore, refuel and resupply along the way. We’re estimating about two years outbound with exploration stops, perhaps a year on the way back.
“That’s a long time to be out of touch.”
“We’ll be sending back reports every few months by message torpedo.”
I raised an eyebrow at this. Of course there’s no such thing as faster-than-light radio; the fastest way to send a message is via starship. A message torpedo is a self-contained robot starship, about three meters long and shaped to almost fill the reverse-teardrop warp bubble. It looks like an ice-cream cone or an old nuclear weapon reentry vehicle. The comparison with the latter is apt. To get the best range and speed they squeeze the most power into the smallest space; they’re fueled with antimatter. The containment system is supposed to be failsafe, and I’d never heard of an accidental antimatter explosion, but a message torpedo is a potential bomb. “The Space Force let you have antimatter?”
“Just for the message torpedoes. It’s a joint civilian-military mission. They’ll have oversight.” She paused to take another sip of her wine. “Of course, there’ll be no way we can receive any messages unless we stay in one place for a long time, but that’s not part of the plan. So we won’t get news or be back home for three years. We’ll head back immediately, of course, if we find out part way that Eta Carinae has already blown.”
Part of me hoped it had.
* * *
After dinner I talked Renee into coming back to my ship with me. “We can have dessert and after dinner drinks. I’ve got one of the best autobars money can buy, and a great collection of music.”
“You have your own ship? Okay, I’d like that.”
We made our way through the spaceport and out to the field. She caught the name of my ship as we went aboard. She whirled, eyes wide.
“Starfire!? My gosh, Jay is short for Jason? You’re that Jason Curtis? I didn’t. . . .” her voice trailed off, confused or embarrassed.
“Um, yeah”. The story had gotten around.
“But that’s amazing, a close approach to a star like that.”
“That was stupid, I only did it because I was desperate”. I’d miscalculated a jump, had to refuel, and the only source of hydrogen was the star’s atmosphere. Lucky for me
it was a cool star, and I’d had shade.
“It’s a useful technique, shielding your ship with an asteroid like that. We use it to drop probes into stars.” She grinned at me. “But you’re the only person I’ve heard of to do it personally.”
“I wouldn’t try it on anything hotter than a red dwarf. But I promised you dessert and a drink.” I desperately wanted to change the subject. “Do you like Beach Boys music?”
“Who?”
I told the music system to play a random selection while I had the galley find us cheesecake and a couple of Drambuies.
A little while later, we were in each others’ arms, the rest of dessert and drinks forgotten, when the melodic “Surfer Girl” came on. I thought it apropos, but Renee tensed.
“Jay, we should stop.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
She pushed back. “No, Jay, I’m sorry. We just met. In two days I’m going to disappear for at least three years. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Her or me? Perhaps she didn’t know. She paused then, as if weighing what to say next. “And besides—” she started to continue, but I stopped her.
“No, I’m sorry Renee, you’re right.” It took a lot of willpower to say those words. I wanted to argue, come up with something persuasive to make her stay, but I knew that was the testosterone talking. I gritted mental teeth and got to my feet, and pulled Renee to hers. “We should call it a night while I still can.” I grinned, but I was only half joking.
Renee smiled. “Thank you Jason. There are still some gentlemen left after all.”
She came closer to give me a quick kiss, but the kiss stretched out, becoming more than just a goodbye peck. Renee seemed to have changed her mind. Knowing that either way I’d hate myself in the morning, I chose the honorable path and pushed away, gasping. “We’d better get you home before . . . well, just before.”
* * *
When I woke up the next morning—well, closer to noon—I found a message from her on my omni.
“Jason,” it said, “thank you for last night. Call you later. —Renee.” I smiled to myself. There was more. “PS - we really do have to go our separate ways soon, remember what I told you.” Told me? Oh, right, falling in. Way too late.
* * *
We went to the beach again the following afternoon. The waves were down and I tried surfing again, but the real attraction was watching Renee surf. She rode the waves like she’d been doing it all her life, which she probably had. I sat out the last few runs and enjoyed the view, until finally she brought the board up and flopped beside me.
“Hey, watch who you’re splashing!”
She laughed. “A little water never hurt anyone.”
“That,” and I pointed out at the ocean, “is not ‘a little water’.” I tried to sound serious but couldn’t keep a straight face. “You’re fantastic out there, but I’ve told you that. How about letting me show you something that I’m good at?”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Flying. A Sapphire isn’t exactly an aeroplane but she handles pretty well. Want to go for a spin? And perhaps a couple of loops and rolls?”
She looked at me warily. “You’re kidding, right?”
I chuckled. “Yes. I’ve flown aerobatics but I wouldn’t in Starfire, not with a passenger and not without good reason. It’s more fun with something designed for it. But we can do some sightseeing from the air.”
“All right, Jay, that sounds like fun.”
* * *
Something was happening back at the spaceport. At first they didn’t want to let us onto the field. There was a guard at the door from the port building.
“Sorry sir, the field is closed at the moment,” he said. He was armed, which wasn’t unusual except that he held an assault rifle at the ready, rather than a holstered pistol. I didn’t remember there even being a guard there earlier.
“What, why?”
“I can’t say, sir. It’s only for a few hours, come back later.”
“Look, my ship’s out there, the Starfire, you can’t keep me away from my ship.”
At this he looked a little less sure of himself. “Can I see some ID? You too Ma’am, if you’re with him.”
We showed him our IDs, which he examined and then he turned and keyed his headset, muttering something I couldn’t quite hear. Finally he nodded and turned back. “Alright Mr. Curtis, Ma’am. You’re cleared to go to your ship, but please keep clear of the main field.”
“Of course, thank you. What was—”
Renee nudged me. “Come on Jason, I’ll fill you in.”
As we skirted the field walking toward my ship, I looked across to where the Eta Carinae Expedition ships—two of them, anyway—were parked. Another ship, with Space Force markings, was parked near them.
“Renee? What’s going on?”
“Sorry Jay, I should have realized they’d close the field. They’re transferring the message torpedoes today, so they’ve beefed up security.”
“Here? Why not do that in orbit, or deep space?”
“I don’t know all the details. We’ve had some schedule slippage on getting our ships ready for space, and it can be easier to work where there’s gravity and air. They probably want to just get it done quickly.”
“I guess they’re the experts.” It wasn’t like Kakuloa had a busy spaceport.
We were almost at the Starfire when the distant roaring noise I’d been hearing finally caught my attention. That was a ship coming in on thrusters, and the field was supposed to be closed. I turned to look for it just as an alarm klaxon sounded. What happened next went too fast for me to follow all the details.
I saw several bright flashes and streaks of smoke, and an explosion rocked the Space Force ship. Guards and Space Marines ran in different directions across the field, some of them firing weapons. Several other people—I didn’t see uniforms—shot back at them. Small explosions ripped the far side of the field and thick clouds of colored smoke drifted across, blocking my view of the spaceport buildings.
A ship, no doubt the one I’d heard approach, descended onto the field, long-legged gear down, with a cargo ramp already lowering from its belly. The field was a cacophony of gunfire, alarm klaxons, and shouting. Three men ran toward the new ship from out of the billowing smoke, two guiding a cargo pallet, the third shooting back into the smoke. Nestled in support frames on the pallet were a half-dozen long, tapered ice-cream cone shapes; the message torpedoes.
Renee, beside me, shouted. “Jason, they’re stealing the antimatter!”
“Get down!” I said, and crouched down myself, pulling her. We’d both been standing there staring instead of diving for the dirt at the first shots, but things had happened too fast. As I watched, one of the two guiding the pallet staggered and fell. The third slung his gun over his shoulder and helped the other push the cart up the ramp. Another explosion hit the Space Force ship. It wasn’t going anywhere.
“Renee, stay low and run for those ships,” I said, pointing to a couple of other ships parked on the same side of the field as mine. “Stay clear of the Starfire.”
“What? What are you doing?”
“Going after them.”
“What?”
“Somebody has to stop them. They took out the Space Force ship.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No! I don’t want you hurt, and someone has to tell the authorities that I’m one of the good guys. Now go.” I pushed her back towards the spaceport buildings, dim behind the smoke clouds, and towards the shelter of the other ships.
I ran in a low crouch to the Starfire. As I ran I keyed my omni to open the hatch. I glanced back. Renee was at a safe distance, still running in a low crouch. Across the field the hijacker’s ship had its cargo door closed and was powering up thrusters, preparing to lift.
I dashed to the cockpit and hit the emergency start button as I strapped in. A few long seconds later I too was airborne, and in pursuit. I just had to figure out a way to stop them.
* * *
I wasn’t sure how, but I knew they had to be stopped. Nobody raids a shipment of antimatter message torpedoes because they want to send a letter. As I hauled Starfire into the air and turned to follow the hijackers, a plan began to form.
I had flown formation and aerobatics in my flying club. The Starfire isn’t as agile as the aircraft we flew there, but I didn’t have to be that fancy. If I few close enough, the bad guys couldn’t engage their warp drive.
Matter—me and the Starfire in this case—that touches the warp boundary is ripped apart at the atomic level by the gravity gradient, with a violent energy release. Ship control systems are programmed to avoid that. If I stayed close to them, their warp drive wouldn’t engage. There was a remote chance the bad guys could override it, but then we’d all be dead and it wouldn’t matter.
I checked my instruments. By now I was halfway to space, closing on the terrorists’ ship.
I had to close with them before we got too far out of the atmosphere. A planet’s gravity won’t prevent the warp field from forming, only skew the direction. But where there’s still more than a trace of atmosphere, the ship’s safety interlocks will shut out the warp generators.
Their ship’s main thrusters flared and they started to pull away. They’d spotted me and boosted harder. It looked like they were pushing three gees. I pushed Starfire to four-and-a-half. One thing about the hull of a Sapphire, it’s strong. With my aerobatic practice I knew I could take more gees if I had to. But this stern chase was impractical, and I didn’t want to fly into their exhaust. I projected their course then pitched my ship up to a higher angle and increased thrust to six gees.
It didn’t take long to clear atmosphere. I throttled back, putting Starfire into a slow roll and looking for the other ship. If I’d estimated right . . . I had, there it was below me, and I was to sunward of it. I dove.
Starfire & Snowball Page 6
