Spektorov drifted towards the window. Hanging over the asteroid regolith was the pale blue planet.
"Simply destroying the shuttles is not going to make us safe."
"I'm glad you understand that it won't do that."
"I want you to put an antimatter jar on that rail gun."
"Antimatter?"
"We control the containment from here. When it's close enough to the shuttles, we shut down containment, and let it blow."
"What? That's a tremendous waste of resources! I told you, the pebbles will do the job!"
"In history, there have been two kinds of first contact between nations. In the first, one nation can't assert its sovereignty, against the other. In the second, it can. How do you think it goes in the first kind?
"We do have weapons of mass destruction. Antimatter fuel jars. If we blow up the shuttles with something that can blow up a city, you can bet no one is going to challenge our sovereignty. That's when you wave a rock around. When you break a kid's jaw, you make sure all the upperclassmen realize you could break theirs."
Two hours later
"The main solar panel array has gone offline."
Gunther Stalheim looked up from over the radar, sipping coffee out of a plastic bag. The rest of his team carried on about their work. They spoke in German, stopping and staring whenever an outsider came by. They placed bright blinking markers inside the floating hologram of Paul Dirac City. In the inner areas they were all green. In an outer area, two were red question marks.
"It's offline," said Spektorov again. "Shouldn't you do something about it?"
"Normally I would send over a couple of engineers to take a look at it," said Dr. Johnson, "But, you know. What with the infiltrator around."
Stalheim sucked out the rest of the coffee, bag crinkling into itself.
"Well?" asked Spektorov.
"I have been doing something," he said at last. " I have been studying all the many weaknesses of this facility. No, no, I meant security weaknesses. The most obvious way to cripple this station, is to go for either its oxygen or its solar power production. There is only one oxygen generation system, the water electrolyzer on Level Three. For the backup there are only some potassium chlorate, oxygen candles. Solar power however is external, and therefore much more vulnerable. Without solar power, everything shuts down. It is the priority target."
"Hey that's great Gunther, now are you going to do something about it? ‘Cause I know the infiltrator just has."
"It is an obvious trap."
"A trap? Said Dr. Johnson.
"Oh, an obvious trap?" grumped Spektorov.
"If you send your engineers to investigate, the intruder will kill them. Then, you will still have disabled solar panels, and you will no longer have people qualified to repair them. If I send guards with your people, the hostile will attempt to kill them - and because he is setting an ambush, he will likely succeed. I would have to send several people, through the maintenance tunnels, and via hoppers. He has two of our flechette guns, so he can now shoot in vacuum if he couldn’t already. Can you imagine what one of our guns could do to a hopper?
"Also, it will take at least half an hour to reach that site. If he has any advance notice - and we cannot discount the possibility that he is getting inside help - he could use that time to strike somewhere else, against another vulnerable targets."
"We need our solar panels," said Spectorov.
"There are two other solar power banks, and the station only needs one to run life support and habitation. If we ignore this attack, he will escalate. He will stay with the same strategy - and attack one of the other solar panel banks. That is when we know that we can repair, the first one. The Intruder does not have manpower - we do."
"So, your plan is just to wait?" Spectrum threw up his hands. "For you guys to sit on your asses?"
The German private military contractor regarded Spektorov.
"My plan Sir, is to focus on the two Chinese Special Forces shuttles that are on their way. Doctor Henrikson's rail gun is our best defense. But, if he fails, we will need every moment of preparation we can get. Not to be running after a someone obviously trying to distract us. That, is what you pay us for."
Five hours later
"Mr. Stalheim, another solar power bank has gone offline."
"We know," The contractor was fastening the buckles on his body armor. Around him, eight others checked gas canisters on guns and adjusting tactical headsets. "Are your engineers ready?"
"Yes," said Johnson, "They are already waiting where you asked me to station them."
"Thank you, Doctor. Will you be coming with us?"
"Yes. This is my beat, and I don't like the idea of someone trying to tear out the wires."
Stalheim smiled. "Have you been up here long?"
"Since we began, about a year and a half."
"Then you are better adjusted to this life than most." He chattered in German to his men, and they all started moving down the corridor.
"How are your people coping?" Dr. Johnson pulled himself along in the microgravity.
"We prefer it to Africa."
"Africa?"
"There is always work for military contractors there."
They were almost at the service shaft for the solar panel bank when their radio crackled.
"Stalheim, over."
"This is Doctor Henrikson. Can you hear me?"
"Good copy, go ahead Doctor."
"We’ve discovered some sabotage. The water electrolyzer has been completely wrecked. We are not producing any more oxygen, over."
"What! Can it be salvaged?"
"No, some key parts are missing - and so are the spares. Also, no one seems to know where the two oxygen technicians are. Can I was speak with Doctor Johnson, over?"
"Johnson here. We can just use the fuel electrolyzer, over."
"That’s what I was thinking."
"Fuel electrolyzer?" asked Stalheim. "What does that have to do with oxygen?"
"Everything, really. It splits water to make rocket fuel," said Johnson.
"So it can produce oxygen?"
"Well - yes," as if just realizing he'd been talking to an anti-vaxxer. "One atom of oxygen for every two of hydrogen. It's easier to store water, than to store hydrogen. Hydrogen just boils away unless you use bulky containment. So, we just make what we need, when we need it."
Stalheim spoke excitedly in German to his fellows. They stopped, turned, and headed back the way they came.
"Wait - where are you going?"
"We have to get back. Where is the fuel electrolyzer?"
"Near the main docking bay. You would have passed it when your ship arrived here."
"Come with me, quickly," Stalheim grabbed him by the arm.
"What about the solar panels?"
"Forget the solar panels, they are not the target. They are the distraction. I'm here with my best people, while the infiltrator is targeting the oxygen production."
"Are you sure? Maybe the infiltrator doesn’t know the science behind it, either."
Stalheim gave him a dirty look.
The flash-bang arced into the bay like a tiny Sputnik, and went off.
The mercenaries pushed through, armor, guns, and orbital mechanics. Magnetic boots struck and clamped, laser sights panned, hunting. Men covered while others advanced, then returned the favor.
Laser sights slowly drooped, adrenaline cheated. Men looked about, and then at each other.
"Where the fuck is he?" said one.
"We got lucky," said Stalheim, lowering his gun. "We somehow got here before the infiltrator. Come on, let's get the electrolyzer and the parts, and go."
Johnson and his technology monks floated in, looking about like rodents crossing an open plain.
"Are you sure it's safe?" asked the Head Rodent.
"Infra red?" Stalheim looked over to a man studying a hand-held screen. The man shook his head.
"Yes Doctor Johnson," said Stalheim. "There's noth
ing here except those prison guard robots."
At the end of the bay by the electrolyzer, were twelve DoC machines. They stood in two lines, holding heavy ballistic shields and taser cannons. Their heads were tilted down, as if checking for pot bellies.
"What are they doing here?" asked Johnson. The engineers floated towards the electrolyzer, bright yellow tool kits in hand.
"How would I know? Have the prisoners been unruly?"
"Maybe. That would be very unusual."
"They don't seem active."
"No."
The first engineer reached out, and put his hand on the electrolyzer casing.
Red lights lit up, the robots jerked awake. The engineer pushed back sharply, eyes wide.
"You startled me!" he said to one.
It shot him with 50,000 volts.
"You're a woman?"
"And you're an asshole," said the intercom. "Are you ready to discuss terms?"
"I don't negotiate with terrorists," said Spektorov.
"How about breathing?" said a new voice. "You want to negotiate with breathing? How are those oxygen candles holding out?"
"Stockwell, you son of a bitch."
"Disable the rail gun weapon, and deliver all its parts to the main vehicle bay, within the hour," said Suyin. "And then stand by to be placed under arrest by the arriving forces."
"Oh, I got a better idea. Why don't you and your FBI buddy surrender, and hand back all my people, or I will fire the rail gun at your buddies. How does that sound?"
A pause.
"If you fire the rail gun," said Suyin, "I will destroy the electrolyzer. All of you will die."
"If you destroy the electrolyzer, the next shot is going to hit China."
A longer pause.
"Are you still there lady? Hello? Am I being left with the sound of my own voice?"
The sound of a flechette gun firing came through the intercom.
"The next shot?" said Suyin. "You think you’ll last that long?"
"Well that was pretty dramatic." said Stockwell face-palming, "I see negotiation isn't something they really train you in, huh?"
"He won’t attack China," Suyin reloaded the flechette gun. "It’ll detonate in the uppermost atmosphere at best, and mess with cell phone reception. And then, he knows, he will be nuked."
"You know," he wagged his finger, "I'm just the same. When I fully realize someone is making an empty threat, I also shoot up electrolyzers."
"He’s going to attack the shuttles, whatever we say or do. And if they see reason, I still have the electrolyzer spares."
"So, what are you going to do?"
She looked at him, as if he had asked a small child's question.
"I'm going to go destroy the rail gun. Are you coming?"
"They're desperate now. That threat he made? That was desperation. You destroying the electrolyzer, made them even more desperate. Desperate people are dumbasses. And these dumbasses have antimatter. Let me talk them down."
"There is nothing to talk about. Do not undermine me!"
"You think that this could go worse?"
"He can't be trusted."
"No. But there are other people, sane people, beyond that hatch. I can work out an agreement with Henrikson, his chief scientist. Henrikson gets it, he told me that something like this was in the making. He just didn't know what."
"It is decided."
"You are losing control of the situation, not gaining it. And the stakes are the lives of your own countrymen."
"If you won't help me, then at least stay out of my way."
She opened the hatch and pushed through, gun first.
"Shit Bro, what the hell you think you doing with that?"
Ken Brown held the flechette gun awkwardly. He look down at it, then back up at Jose Jimenez. There were six other prisoners with Jose, all of them were carrying heavy tools.
"We need to stop them," he said.
"You ain't stoppin' shit, fool," said a large prisoner behind Jose, carrying a wrench.
"What's all this?" demanded Brown. "What do all of you think you're doing?"
"The FBI agent, he says if we help out, we're getting our sentences commuted," said Jose. "We get to go home Bro. Free men!"
"Like you said in the bunkroom," said the large prisoner. "This is our fight now. Now put that gun down before you do yourself some wrong."
"Just get out of my way."
"Hey Ken, just give us the gun okay?" said Jimenez. He reached for the weapon.
"Let go!" Ken try to to jerk it away.
"Fuck you old man!"
The gun went off. Jimenez was punched back, blood erupting out his gut in spinning droplets. The large prisoner swung the wrench, and crushed Brown’s skull.
"You should have surrendered."
The rail gun was built in a disused accelerator track. Stolen electromagnets ran along its length. Power cables hung from underneath in clumps, like gutted intestines. The rider was a metal bucket the size of a small car. Daryl Sepkorov, the world’s richest, self-made man, was pressed against it, hands up.
Suyin pinned his chest with her knee, the flechette gun pointed at his throat. Henrikson, several scientists, and some guards knelt in a corner. The prison guard robots stood over them, one had bloody finger streaks on its shield.
"I think you can stop now," said Stockwell. "Player One has definitely won this game."
She looked over to Henrikson. "You, are you in charge?"
"I'm in charge," said Spektorov.
Suyin shoved him with her knee.
"I am the head designer, yes," Said Henrikson.
"On account of that," she pointed with her stump at the large box strapped to a work table with "DANGER" signs on it. "I would rather not use an explosive to disable this device. So you're going to tell me how, or otherwise, I will just stay with what I am used to."
Henrikson nodded.
"Hold on there Hands Free," said Stockwell. "You want to think about this?"
"All you ever do is talk. Do you ever stop talking?"
"The threat of unsanctioned and illegal experimentation into Von Neumann technology, has ended. You - and me - are now completely in control of that situation. Agreed?"
"What is your point?"
"You need to get on your radio, and call off those shuttles."
"Of course not! We need to arrest these people."
"A lot of classified research for the US Government has been happening here. The Chinese government is not going to be taking control of this place."
"What are you saying?"
"There was a problem here and we fixed it. Both our governments would be happy about it. So now, there is no more need for those special forces shuttles, to come here. If they do, it would only be with the intention of looting this place for its technology. I cannot allow that."
"This facility is being shut down."
"That is not your decision to make. That would be an illegal act, and as the ranking US government representative in this facility, I will not allow it."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No, and I am not threatening the shuttles either, I have no illusions what will happen if they arrive, and I try to stop them taking over. I will surrender."
"Stop being so melodramatic."
"If you let those shuttles come here, it will cause a major diplomatic incident. Is that what you want? Do you think that will make things better? If our governments trusted each other more, do you think Jemaat Ansar would have escaped? That they would have attacked E2?
"The last time you and I worked together, things went badly. You went against your own gut - I think - and did what you were ordered to do, instead."
"I am not going to keep apologizing for what happened in Colombo."
"That will be easy, since you never started. But that’s not the point. We need to make sure those shuttles don't come here, or things could get nasty on that blue planet down there.
If you get on the radio, and ask them to
wave off, do you think that's actually going to happen?"
She said nothing.
"Exactly. We need the rail gun. You need to make a decision now, you are not allowed to hide behind your orders. Come on, We don't have a lot of time before they get here."
Suyin looked away.
"Seriously?" said Spektorov. "I could have just talked you into a circle?"
Four hours later, Jiuquan Launch Mission Control Center
"We've lost contact with Stork One and Two."
The People’s Liberation Army Air Force general, did not look pleased. All around him, Mission staff we're dressed in white coats and white baseball caps. They looked more like office workers on a terrible adventure getaway. Half of the display screens were suddenly showing blue, null signals.
"How is that possible?" he said.
"I don't know Sir," said the hook-nosed controller.
"Sir," a controller with bad teeth, "we've lost visual feeds from the Dragon Five satellite."
"Just visual?"
"Yes," said Bad Teeth, "But it's picked up a huge spike in cosmic radiation. Hard gamma rays."
"An unpredicted solar flare?"
"No Sir, they are on the night side."
The main screen lit up with new information, orange numbers and words scrolling. Some of the controllers stared and gasped.
"What is it?" demanded the general. "What does it mean?"
"It's from the Sun Tzu Self-Transcending System," said one of the gaspers. "It's matching the radiation data against an explosion model. It matches."
"What sort of explosion?"
"Confirming detonation," said Hook Nose. "Four kiloton nuclear device."
The entire room went silent.
"How much," the general spoke at last, "How much antimatter did that take?"
"It would have been about a tenth of a gram, Sir," said Gasper. "We estimate they have anywhere between one and one-and-a-half grams in inventory."
"Wait!" Bad Teeth got up from his console, waving and jumping. "I am receiving telemetry again from both vessels!"
"Mission Control," a raspy voice over the radio, "What was that?"
"Stork One this is Control," said Hook Nose. "What is your status?"
The Hundred Gram Mission Page 26
