by S. H. Jucha
Julien pressed.
Andrea’s words told Alex that Renée was probably standing right next to his Senior Captain, waiting for an answer.
* * *
Alex linked with Eric, Andrea, Julien, and Z.
Eric was taken aback by Alex’s revelation. Everything his people had worked toward was being denied in one sentence. The city-ship wouldn’t reach safety. But if Eric had learned one thing about the Admiral, he always started with the worst tidings.
Eric let go of his breath in a whoosh, tears forming in his eyes. The Admiral wasn’t going to abandon them. He regretted every cruel thought he’d ever had about the New Terrans, especially their Admiral. Who is the better human? Eric thought ruefully. He knew it wasn’t him.
Alex cut the comm and linked to the liner Captains and shuttle pilots.
Captains Azasdau and Schmidt had been pleased that Captain Hauser voiced the question that both of them were thinking. Now they were embarrassed. Captain Hauser was the only one forthright enough to voice their concerns.
Lillian sent.
Alex sent a private comm to Julien.
said Alex, not wishing to crush their hopes, but better to beat the rumors.
-27-
At 4.75 hours on the morning of day eleven, the Rêveur’s flight crews, working in the Unser Menschen’s shuttle bays, received the order from Andrea to exit the city-ship. They hurried the last passengers out of their bays and ran for the aging Libran Station shuttle parked in Bay-9. The shuttle techs stood at the head of the gangway ramp and urged the crew to board as quickly as possible, sending bio-IDs to Julien, who monitored the head count.
The Libran shuttle was piloted by two veteran Dagger pilots. Despite the cool temperature on the bridge, both were sweating. The bridge controller board had become a colorful display of white, green, yellow, and red lights—yellow and red being the predominant colors. It was going to be a close call to make the short hop to the Rêveur.
The Unser Menschen’s last passengers had arrived
and disembarked, and the shuttles had already launched. When the Rêveur’s flight crew left aboard the Libran shuttle, the massive city-ship would be left without a single operational shuttle. At this point, no one cared.
The remainder of the Rêveur’s crew said quick good-byes to their Libran compatriots, raced through the ship’s wide corridors, rode lifts to the docking gangway level, and ran down the ramp to wait inside the station.
Étienne received Andrea’s order to evacuate while he watched his charge at work with two techs and an engineer, who were attempting to reset a bank of e-switches. The Bergfalk engineer was about to reset them for the third time, despite having received the same negative result on each of the first two tries.
Alex blocked the engineer’s arm. “Ser, one moment, please” Alex had been studying the circuit design provided by Z, and the e-switches didn’t appear to match the schematic. “Regard this design, Ser, and check the e-switch IDs against their positions in the bank.”
The techs waited on their engineer, who hesitated for a moment, then nodded. They pulled the entire bank of e-switches, all sixty-four of them, and began examining their ID codes, comparing them to the schematic, and reinserting them per the diagram. When the engineer triggered the master circuit, all the e-switches lit up, signaling completed circuits. He smiled and nodded his head to Alex in acknowledgment. Then he and the techs hurried to the next problem on Z’s list.
“Admiral,” Étienne said, “we must leave. All crew have cleared the ship, and the hatches are due to close soon. We must hurry.”
Alex checked his chronometer app and swore. He was about to violate his own orders to clear the ship at 5 hours. He took off at a full run with Étienne flying right behind him. Alex kept sending to every implant twenty meters in front of him,
Alex and Étienne made the main hatch just as the Bergfalk tech was reaching for the hatch’s manual operation switch.
“Admiral?” the tech managed to send as Alex and Étienne shot past him.
As Alex and Étienne gained the other end of the city-ship’s gangway ramp and sealed the station’s airlock hatch behind them, Étienne sent,
In turn, Julien, with great relief, relayed the message to Renée and Andrea.
* * *
In the station’s corridor, Alex found a row of seats for waiting passengers and sat down, breathing heavily. The station’s oxygen content was a little less than his heavy body required at rest, much less for a one-kilometer sprint, winding through ship corridors.
Z was pleased to grant the Admiral’s request, knowing they would need all the help they could get to enable a successful launch.
Alex heard Captain Reinhold order the crew and passengers to prepare for launch. All the hatches and bay doors were double-checked for seal and the gangway was released. A great deal of manual effort was employed to launch the massive ship with so many automation systems uninstalled or incomplete. When all locations confirmed ready, the Captain ordered Z to launch the ship. The SADE fired the maneuvering jets to separate the giant ship from the station. Only twenty meters of clearance was achieved when the jets shut down.
* * *
“Z, report,” Captain Reinhold demanded in an angry tone.
“If you would, please, Z,” Eric added, glaring at the Captain, who was chastened by his Leader’s ire.
“Sers, the maneuvering jets have failed,” Z responded. “If we wait to drift far enough away from the station to ignite the engines it will take 4.2 hours.”
“Any chance of using our engines before then, Z?” the Captain asked.
“There is too great a danger of damage to the station, the liners, and us, Captain.”
“How would we be damaged, Z?” the Captain asked.
“The back blast from the orbital station will overheat the hull. Please recall, Captain, that our hull construction is only 86 percent complete. Thermal layering of the hull was only minimally applied. We were to complete the remaining layers once we arrived at New Terra.”
“Z, what needs to be done?” Eric asked.
“I’m directing engineers and techs to the maneuvering jet system’s failure points, Leader. If any bridge personnel could be spared…?” Z inquired.
“Take them. All of them,” Eric ordered.
Captain Reinhold failed to speak, and Eric took over. “All bridge personnel stand up now.” As the men and women jumped to their feet, Eric ordered, “You now report to Z. Wherever he sends you, you run as if your life depends on it, because it does.”
Z began issuing directives and the officers and techs flew out the bridge access way. If construction had been completed, Z would have had sensors that pinpointed where or how they’d lost their jets. Now they would have to find the problem the hard way.
Engineers, techs, and officers ran to their assigned points to check gauges and report their readings. As each individual filed a reading with Z, he would send them on to the next point of potential failure. The SADE had 137 people on the hunt, but with the size of their ship, he could have used 1,370 people. Time slipped away for the searchers as they lost first an hour then an hour and a half and finally two hours.
A twenty-five-year-old Libran tech, Heinrich, took a reading on a jet’s compression line that exited directly to a series of jets embedded in the hull. Z interpreted the reading, and if he’d been inclined to swear, he would have blistered his crystals. Had the hull’s maneuvering jets been tied into control sensors, Z could have turned off any malfunctioning jet. Except, the jets weren’t tied into sensors; there hadn’t been time. So Z was unable to shut down any errant unit. And as fortune would have it, the stuck jet had fed its error signal back into the system, which had promptly shut down. It was a Méridien design feature, which, due to the city-ship’s immense size, it did not need. But the city-ship was a first-time construction and traditional Méridien designs had not been questioned.
Z hooked Heinrich into his comms with Leader Stroheim, the Captain, and the Admiral. The Captain was surprised to realize his connection was passive. He could only receive, not send. Eric recognized Julien’s and the Admiral’s influence on Z and heartily approved. It wasn’t the time to interfere with his SADE. Alex sat in his station seat, with eyes closed, and quietly monitored the tense situation, which he was powerless to help.
Heinrich hurried to follow Z’s instructions. Having never performed a spacewalk, his fears had his heart racing as if it would burst. As Heinrich ran to the airlock, he frantically signaled people to clear the way. Then, in the airlock, he pulled a suit from the cabinet, checked for boots, and rifled through the cabinets for the tool.
Heinrich’s implant feed indicated the wild manner in which his eyes swung out over the horizon, back to the planet, and back to the hull. Several times, the visual feed disappeared and Z determined that Heinrich had closed his eyes.
Stepping slowly, one boot a few centimeters in front of the other, Heinrich followed Z’s directions. He knew he was moving slowly and breathing like he was running a sprint, but he couldn’t help it. One part of his brain screamed at him to go back inside; the other part said to remember the 122,000 people aboard, all of whom were depending on him.
Heinrich stared at the hull around his boots and couldn’t see the jet. Panic began to set in. He started to turn back and realized that he had just passed it. he sent. He bent down to the hull, inserting the rod down the throat of the nozzle. He felt the tool bottom out and turned it, as he had been directed, until it stopped.
