by Jack L Knapp
“I understand. But what do we do now? Our base is too small to take your people.”
“There is another option, if you are willing. We have your domed shelters ready, so...
#
Chuck dropped John off at Moonbase before going on to Reykjavik. He composed a message on the way. Frenchy might have advice to offer. Should he ally with the Lunar Chinese, or not? The Chinese wanted their own location on Mars and were prepared to work for NFI as long as necessary to achieve that goal. What would the Chinese government say if they learned of this? What were the long-term effects of planting a colony that had its own aims? Would those aims support, or act against, NFI’s interests? Deciding he’d written enough, he sent the message through the company’s satellite system. Frenchy would receive it within a short time and might well be on the phone by the time Chuck arrived at his office.
He had barely stepped to the ground when one of the mechanics ran up. “Chuck, they need you at the office. I’m supposed to tell you it’s an emergency.”
Chuck frowned. This couldn’t be about the message he’d sent.
“What’s wrong?”
“Giant’s been attacked. She was damaged, there’s also a lot of collateral damage. There’s been a radiation spill too. It may mean war.”
“Slow down. Who attacked? Where did this happen?”
“Chinese fighters from the mainland. They were definitely after Giant, the first missile hit the portside wing. The second missed and blew up when it hit the ground. There are Japanese casualties, I don’t know how many. Giant’s crew is safe, at least for now. They’re going to try to reach orbit with the dorsal and ventral impellers. They’ll need oxygen, that wing hit took out a lot of their reserve. If they can resupply from one of the orbiting fuel stations, they may try for the moon.”
The mechanic caught his breath, then continued. “The Japanese launched fighters from Chitose and Misawa, but the raid was over before they got airborne. The Chinese came from somewhere near Wuhan; they refueled over the East China Sea, then went north. South Korean radars picked them up when they passed Gwangju and Busan, but they thought it was a routine training flight and didn’t think to notify the Japanese. Anyway, they turned east about forty kilometers south of Niigata and caught Giant while she was loading. One of the Japanese missile batteries got off a shot, we don’t know which one. It didn’t hit anything, but it may have spooked the Chinese. They broke off the raid and headed southeast. One of our foremen is former navy, he says they’re probably meeting tankers over the Pacific. After that, who knows?”
“Damn. Okay, thanks, let the office know that I’m on my way.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
The office was crowded. One was an administrator, the others were involved with operations.
“Contact the Japanese consortium, the one that handles the shipments,” said Chuck. “See if there’s anything we can do.” The administrator nodded and left.
“What do we know?” asked Chuck.
“As you can guess, things are pretty chaotic,” said Arnbjorn, the foreman in charge of preparing ships for flight. “At least one missile hit the ground and blew up. There were a number of fuel rods waiting there in temporary storage, separated from each other by berms but with no overhead cover. At least one was damaged by the explosion. There have been reports of radiation leaks, how bad we don’t know. Giant’s cargo bay caught some of it, so before the wing can be repaired she’ll have to be decontaminated. The crew is safe; the cargo bay’s shields are between the contaminated part and the cabin.”
“Where’s Giant now?” asked Chuck.
“In orbit. It was touch and go, but she made it. Eventually she’ll go to the moon to have the damaged wing replaced, but not until we know how severe the contamination is. The crew will be taken off as soon as we can get a ship up there.”
“Getting the crew off is the thing to do, but keep me informed.” He sighed and stood up, walking over to the window. Iceland was calm, people went about their business. Half a world away, confusion and terror reigned.
“What about the strike force?”
“Japan’s Self Defense Forces have patrols out, but so far they haven’t found anything. The UN has been informed, but no one’s saying anything yet.”
“They’re not noted for fast action,” agreed Chuck. “Regardless of what the Japanese do, we’ve got our own problems. China is targeting NFI. They ordered their people on Luna to hit Moonbase, and now this. Recommendations?”
No one replied. Most looked around to see who would go first. Finally Arnbjorn spoke. “We cannot allow this to continue. I know the captains and copilots of the ships, I talk to them when they land. They are not trained to fight. Our ships are not designed for war. They are freight haulers that sometimes carry passengers. Even the machine guns are stored, except when I am told they might be needed. The men who do this work are not part of my crew.” He looked around, but no one wanted to interrupt. “We are not safe here. We are an island nation, but so is Japan. It did not help them.”
“Keep going,” said Chuck.
“I see to it that ships are refueled, that the cabins are cleaned and oxygen and water tanks are filled. If there are gripes from the pilots, I inform the mechanics and they fix the problem. In any case, all systems are inspected carefully before each flight. We know how to do this, but we have no one trained to operate or repair the weapons. There are also two men who inspect the missiles on the wings.
“We are not a military nation. Even during the world war, when danger was greatest, we asked the British and the Americans for help. Now I must ask: by permitting your spacecraft to land in our country, are we putting our people in danger?”
“I don’t have an answer, Arnbjorn. As you said, our ships haul freight. We are not a military threat to anyone.”
“But you are the only ones with space-going ships, real spaceships. You are also very wealthy. Men and nations will envy you. They will envy us too, because we work with you. Our country benefits from this. There are jobs that pay well. But is this enough, considering the danger?”
“You’re a long way from China, Arnbjorn.”
“Russia is not so far. They have a military base on the Gulf of Finland. It is almost due east of us, only about two thousand five hundred kilometers. Russian submarines have been detected. Russian airplanes, the Bear bombers, have been seen. We have seen the reports from Finland. Russians have forced you to close your base. We know these things. Months ago, Russia. Today, China. Will Russia hesitate because we are not their enemy? I do not think so. You are. I think they will come if you are here.”
“So you think Iceland’s government will act?”
“Yes. Your presence places us in danger.”
“Thanks for being honest, Arnbjorn.”
“I liked my job. It was exciting, knowing that the ship I worked on would go into space. I will be sorry to lose my job, but there are other jobs. I had work before you came, I will have work when you are gone. I have saved my wages, so perhaps I will buy a fishing boat.”
Chuck nodded. “Anyone else?”
“Your men have talked, Chuck. You have other places you can go. Perhaps you will no longer carry the radioactive things to space. Your company is wealthy, you do not need to do this dangerous work.”
“We don’t, and yet we do. Someone must. You are fortunate, because you have geothermal and hydropower. Your population is also small, so your situation won’t change. But nations that lack your resources used nuclear power to make up for the shortages. Now, they have pools of water holding used fuel rods. The rods contain poison as well as radioactivity. What will happen if the dangerous materials are not removed? Sooner or later, the water will leak. The danger will spread, not only on the land but into the ocean. It has already happened in France. What then of your fishing boat, Arnbjorn?”
Arnbjorn shrugged and shook his head, but said nothing.
“Thanks for your input. Well, I’ve got work to do, and I i
magine you do too.” Chuck waited as the others filed out, then sat down behind his desk. It was time to call Frenchy and Will. If Iceland’s government closed the Reykjavik base, the new Base Australia would have to take up the load.
NFI was running out of options.
#
“Mister President, next week’s conference has been canceled. The German envoy and the French minister offer their apologies. They claim to have urgent matters at home. The secretary of state is here now. She’s received a note, and wants to discuss it with you.”
“Who’s the note from?”
“It’s signed by the president of the European Commission. Of the various presidents of this or that, he is probably the most influential.”
The president sighed. “I wonder what’s got him upset? Send her in.”
Mark nodded and opened the door. “Lucinda, the president will see you now.”
“So what have you got for me, Lucy?”
Lucinda Morris hated being called ‘Lucy’, as the president well knew. Appointed as a political favor, the two had never gotten along well. “The note is from the president of the European Commission. The diplomatic message is essentially doubletalk, but there is also a private letter. It came via the diplomatic pouch, and I was asked to hand-deliver it. Apparently it contains sensitive information.”
“I see. Give me a minute then, I may want to send a reply. Help yourself to coffee or something stronger.” The president sliced open the sealed 8” by 10” envelope and removed stapled-together typewritten sheets. Scanning rapidly, he absorbed the gist. “No reply. Convey my thanks verbally, please. Was there anything else?”
Lucinda fumed as she left the office. Male--damned--chauvinist! I’m a cabinet officer, not a delivery person!
“Mister President, you really shouldn’t bait her like that.”
“Tend to your knitting, Mark. I don’t want her getting uppity. This note,” he waved the pages, “makes the other stuff understandable. Marko is facing a revolt of sorts. That grand union thing, the EU is pulling out of it. They’ve got serious political problems. The northern nations are unhappy, the Mediterranean nations are threatening to withdraw, again, and this time even the French and Germans are going their own way. That’s what this amounts to, though that’s not how he put it. They’re all afraid of what the Russians and the Chinese are doing. The EU has only held together as long as it has because Germany wanted it and France went along. But both had disastrous wars last century, so if they are seen to be involving themselves in another one both their governments will fall. I can understand his problem. The EU is too loose to be a real nation, but at the same time it won’t ever become one unless they act together. As for the grand coalition, it’s not. The Russians are doing whatever they want, so are the Chinese. Maybe we should too.
“Maybe I should send a note of my own. No, I’ve got a better idea. Two of NFI’s owners, that Fuqua guy and the other one, Crane, are both in Australia. Maybe I can talk sense to one of them. Get in touch with our ambassador. Explain that I’m under a lot of pressure and I don’t want this situation to get out of control. Make me sound sympathetic, okay? But emphasize that I want to talk to them. That Sneyd guy too, he’s an ass, but sometimes you have to deal with asses. It comes with the job,” said the president.
“Yes, Mister President. You have a tour scheduled, a chamber of commerce from Minnesota. You’re supposed to go with them while they tour the White House.”
“Find someone else, Mark, one of the secretaries. Maybe the vice president if he’s in town. I’m going across town, Regina Jones has something to show me.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want me along?”
“Yeah. Alert the secret service, we’ll go by convoy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Arranging everything took time. For presidents, even a short trip crosstown was a logistic effort that called on a number of agencies. Each needed to be told their role in the undertaking, vehicles and personnel assigned, and police escorts arranged. As a result, a number of residents were late getting home. The afternoon commute was snarled, traffic was worse and a number of accidents happened. The police had seen it before, so they were philosophical. Drivers were not. But the president knew none of this, nor would he have cared. He wanted to go crosstown, so that ended the matter.
Doctor Jones met them at the entry and escorted them to a large room. This was not the same room where they’d viewed the recovered impeller devices. It was smaller, for one thing, and contained a single table. A small item sat on the table, more model than space drive. Heavy cables from the device led to a pair of connections mounted to the table.
“That’s it? Explain why you couldn’t bring that thing to the White House.” The president’s tone was cold.
“Because it’s connected to a large power supply and control unit. Those are in the room next to this one.”
The president was mollified, barely. “Does it work?”
“It does. We scaled down the units you saw before. Size isn’t important, except that larger units have greater potential. This one looks small, but even so, it has enough power to push a golf cart. We still don’t understand how it works, but it does. Six of these could power a hovercraft as soon as we shrink the control system. Something else, this one is relatively crude. I’d call it a first generation device. It generates an electromagnetic field, we know that, but it does it mechanically. I think we can do the same thing electrically. The only thing holding us back at this point is the control system.”
“Really? How would you do that?”
“Mister President, I mean no offense, but how much do you know about physics? About fields and how to propagate them, about electronics, about math...and that’s only the beginning.”
“You wouldn’t be trying to baffle me with bullshit, would you, Doctor Jones?” the president asked sourly.
“No. I’ve got the best team I could hire away from industry. Suppose you let us get on with the job.”
Mark listened, wide eyed. No one talked to the president that way! He waited for the explosion, but was astonished to hear a chuckle.
“I’ll do that, Doctor Jones. You said this one works. Are we going to see a demonstration?”
“Yes, Mister President. If you’ll follow me...?”
Thirty minutes later, heading for the White House, the president finally broke the silence. “By golly, she’s touchy! But she did it. That other bunch, the Project Los Angeles people, they’re a waste of space.”
“Maybe not, Mister President.” Mark was cautious. “I checked, because they’re asking for a supplemental appropriation. They’ve gone a different way. If they’re right, they’re on the verge of building an antigravity device.”
“Goddamnit, as soon as I think I understand one thing, they come up with something even more outlandish! I’d fire the lot of them, if it wasn’t for the Russians and the Chinese. If our people don’t invent something, their people will. It’s like toothpaste, once it’s out you can’t put it back in the tube. I tried that once, Mark. I was a kid, and I heard that one. I figured if I could stretch the tube out, while the toothpaste was covering the opening, it would be sucked back in.”
“And did it work, Mister President?”
“No,” the president said ruefully. “I pulled the end too hard. The tube split open and squirted toothpaste all over me. My pop wanted to use his belt at first, then he said that a kid that had to try things for himself would manage to kill himself or grow up to be president.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chuck sat on the couch, arm around Lina. The twins were in bed, Frenchy had gone with Will to inspect the new base. A week, two more, and it should be ready. Lina had turned on the television, where a reporter was describing the aftermath of the strike that damaged Giant.
“This video was taken by a Japanese worker during the attack.” Giant managed to leave the ground, but wavered alarmingly before lifting far enough to rotate into lift position. “As you can see
, a spacecraft belonging to the company New Frontiers was damaged. There was some question whether the ship could fly at all, but according to reports, it is now in orbit.” The scene switched to a view of workers in white coats wielding shovels. They wore caps and paper breathing masks. “The men you see are all volunteers. Scientists say the masks they’re wearing are virtually useless. They’re cheap and commonly available, but were never intended to protect the wearer from hazardous materials.” The scene switched again, this time to a man wearing a white shirt and tie. “Doctor Abrams, you’ve seen the video. What can you tell my audience about what they’ve just seen?”
“Two things, Graham. They’re all older men. As you saw, they’re using shovels to scrape away the topsoil and put it into ordinary trash receptacles. I’m told the men volunteered, which is just as well.”
“What do you mean, Doctor?”
“Just this, Graham. They’re removing the residue from two fuel rods that were shattered during the attack. The lab coats and masks suggest to me that they know what they’re doing. There are no young people, no women doing this. That tells me something else; these men expect to die.”
“This is a suicide mission, Doctor Abrams?”
“I would say so, yes. They know what happened during the Fukushima meltdown. There was nothing they could do about that, it was simply too large and the radiation leak too extensive. This time, they believe they have a chance to contain the radiation.”
“What will they do with the containers, Doctor?”
“I don’t know, Graham. They may bury them, or maybe they will ask New Frontiers to remove them, but I don’t think that will work. It’s my understanding that New Frontiers’ ships are designed to transport undamaged rods. There are supports built into their ships for that purpose. There’s no way they can lift plastic dustbins.”
Lina watched, fascinated. Chuck left the room and sat down on the veranda, reaching for his cell phone.
“Pete, I’ve got a job for your guys. I’ll be there in a few hours, so you’ll need to work fast. Here’s what I want you to do.”
