Kato's War

by Andrew C Broderick

  “Right,” Kato said. He rubbed his temples. “I can’t even comprehend half of the way the world is now, neither science nor society.”

  Martin nodded. “Listen,” he said, as he looked at Kato sympathetically and pointed his fingers in his direction. “Here’s a sage piece of advice: take it one moment at a time. Don’t worry about the future, and the things you can’t control. It’ll all become clear in the end.”

  Kato looked sad. A tear formed in the corner of his right eye. It quivered, before running down his cheek. “I just wish there was something—anything—I could do to help her.”

  Chapter 28

  The language was Chinese, Zara thought, reading the labels on the medium-sized cardboard boxes that lay next to her. Only not as she remembered it. Not a dialect she’d ever seen. Zara shivered pathetically, wrapped in the one and only blanket her captors had provided her. They must have wanted to keep her alive, otherwise there would be no boxes of nutrition bars and water. She weighed… maybe half of what she would have on Earth. Maybe she was on Mars, with its gravity at forty percent of Earth’s? If so, she had gotten to that planet very quickly indeed. Or, she was captive in a spacecraft and being taken somewhere…

  Once Zara managed to get her mind off the hopelessness of her situation, she found that jumping in the half gravity was actually quite fun and worked well to generate body heat. She could jump two meters from the floor of the stark, white silo, before falling back again. Half an hour of this was enough to work up a sweat, even in her cold environment. Now, however, she just lay in a puddle of fear. Where was she going? What would happen when she got there? The faces of long-dead friends passed by like ghosts: Mikayla Smith, Anna-Nicole Hardwick, Christopher Fay, Aleksandr Kozlov, James Harrell… The last three people had been her main conspirators in stealing the spaceship Dawn from Seung Yi. Zara’s stomach roiled at the thought that his descendants may have somehow captured her in order to exact revenge.

  “Seriously, Kato, just go to sleep for a bit,” Martin stressed. “It’s not gonna help anything or anyone if you’re totally exhausted. I’ll be back in a minute.” Martin stepped into the hotel suite’s bathroom and locked the door. Then, he said: “Message to Kirsti McLellan. Hello Kirsti, I hope this finds you well. You’ve probably already found out from the news by now, but Zara has been abducted. We have reason to believe that she’s being taken to Ceres to face interrogation and who knows what else by the Yi Dynasty. As we see it, there is only one chance left to save her: we must somehow use IIX to intercept her ship, the Huo X-37-B, before it arrives in four days, eighteen hours, and fifty-eight minutes. Kirsti, I don’t know how we’ll pull it off technically, but it’s her only chance. Please give the green light to help, and reply ASAP. Best, Martin.”

  Martin waved a hand over the wall, and it turned into a viewport. He looked out at the downtown skyline. Zara’s face was indeed plastered over every building surface again. Only this time, it wasn’t by Kato’s doing. A female newscaster spoke with a serious expression. Subtitles in twenty languages scrolled across the bottom. Zara’s kidnapping seemed to be the only news story. Martin sent another message: “To Lana Kasun: Zara has been abducted, as you’re no doubt seeing. I’m with Kato, and we have good reason to believe that Seung Yi’s descendants are taking her to Ceres, probably as vengeance for the theft of his ship Dawn two centuries ago. The authorities here on Earth are powerless to act, as they don’t have the technological means to intercept her ship. It’s going too fast. Zara’s heading out at half a gravity, and nothing else can match that acceleration. The only ship fast enough is IIX. Her life depends on us reaching her in time. We have four days, eighteen hours, and fifty-seven minutes before she gets to Ceres. I don’t know if it’s even possible to get IIX flying again in that time, but we have to try. For my part, I believe the warp drive is in good shape to be used again. I’m sending this message to you without including Kirsti McLellan. I already sent her the same request, and I’m guessing she will say no. So, if you are on board, please do not involve her. This will be a completely unofficial, secret effort. The personal and professional consequences for all of us are grave, whether we manage to save Zara or not. Thanks, Martin.”

  Once the messages were flying across the interplanetary gulf, Martin tipped his head back and exhaled long through puckered lips. What was said could not be unsaid. Something would happen once those messages were received. The result could well change many lives—mainly in terms of wrecking people’s careers and reputations. Especially his own. How would it play out? Would anybody be willing to lend a hand, let alone enough people to pull this off? Breathe. Calm down. There had to be a way. Martin walked over to the bed and laid down. His body wasn’t in the slightest bit inclined to sleep, despite the late hour. He looked over at Kato, who was slumped in the armchair, dozing, with his head tipped forward.

  Martin should have left for Mars, at the end of his vacation, one-and-a-half days previously. As a no-show on the liner, his fare would now be forfeit. He had no idea how he would get the money together to get back, nor how he would explain his extended absence to his superiors. Would he even have a job? Fifteen minutes went by. Both his messages would now be under scrutiny by their recipients. Then thirty minutes. Forty-five minutes. No response. Then, finally: “Martin, this is Kirsti. Even if it were technologically feasible, the Mars Science Foundation is not a police force. Kato and Zara freed themselves voluntarily from our care, and as interplanetary citizens, they are responsible for their own protection and wellbeing. Our resources absolutely cannot be used in this situation. I hope you understand. Kirsti.”

  “Grrrr!” Martin ground his teeth. “Damn battleaxe!” Kirsti may have been scientifically brilliant, but she had no soul. Good thing, then, that he had also initiated plan B. Please, Lana. You’re our only hope.

  “Martin, this is Lana. I can’t believe this situation. I honestly don’t think there’s much we can do without Kirsti’s approval though. Have you heard back from her yet?”

  Martin closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Oh crap. Now what were they going to do? “Lana, I heard back. No go from her.” He sent the message without bothering to sign off with his name. Martin closed his eyes. Was nobody at all willing to help?

  The stars wheeled by in his mind for a while more. What practical steps could they take, right now, that would at least take Kato’s mind off things and create the illusion of progress? Right then, the illusion would have been almost as important as actual progress. It would work wonders psychologically and help both of them, particularly Kato, stay sane while awaiting the inevitable arrival of the X-37-B at Ceres. Martin got up from his bed and paced the floor. What would at least feel useful? Traveling somewhere? If so, where? Maybe somewhere where Kato had more people that could support him… Mars! Of course! Martin walked back into the bathroom and locked the door.

  “Message to Philip Gansevoort. Philip, we haven’t spoken yet. I’m Martin Swiercynski, Chief Propulsion Engineer from the Clarke Academy. I’m with Kato right now. We can rescue Zara—but only if we can get to Mars in record time. There are only five days left for any rescue mission to succeed, so regular space liners are out. We need your ship’s power. It’s the only one that will work. We’re not asking you to chase down her abductors this time, just to get us to Mars. Please help. Martin. Buzz, send message.” One tiny omission, Martin thought: there was no rescue plan, and going to Mars was just busy work. Martin sat, feeling alone and useless on the commode. He buried his face in his palms. At least he’d tried. She was many millions of kilometers away, and traveling so fast. All alone. Such a beautiful girl. She seemed so spunky and alive. What inner resources she must have had in order to pull off the hijack of Dawn. She was beautiful on the inside too. What a waste, what a loss to mankind if she were to disappear. And poor Kato…

  Martin exited
the bathroom and flopped down on the bed as the manmade glow from outside played across the walls. He promptly fell asleep. “Incoming call from Philip Gansevoort,” Martin dreamt. No, it couldn’t possibly be. The message repeated. The room came back into focus. Ah, yes, the dire situation. The announcement was heard a third time.

  “This is Martin.”

  “Martin, glad to make your auditory acquaintance,” said a strange Dutch-American accent. “Listen, when Kato called earlier, I had no idea there was a rescue plan underway. I deeply apologize if I offended him. Of course Gansevoort’s yours. She is, as you said, the fastest way to Mars.”

  “Oh…”

  “Get yourselves to the ETI as soon as possible. I can expedite the refilling of the ship’s water tanks and have her ready to go in six hours.” The room around Martin was now back in clear focus.

  “Oh, uh… right. Okay. We’re in Tokyo. We’ll get the next shuttle.”

  “Good man. Just follow the prompts when you get there. Only you two will be able to see them.”

  “Right.”

  Silence.

  Hot damn!

  “Kato!”

  “Whaaa….. uuuh?” Kato yawned.

  “Gansevoort’s giving us a ride to Mars! Come on, get your stuff and let’s go!”

  Kato looked perplexed. “What’s being on Mars going to accomplish?”

  “Um…” Think, man. Kato’s no fool. “It’s closer to the asteroid belt. That can only help.”

  Kato shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. It beats sitting in this room waiting for nothing.” At that, Kato rose and gathered his few things, rubbing his red eyes as he did so. He tottered slightly as they both made for the door.

  Kato and Martin floated, bleary eyed, into the plush, circular departure gate. Philip was waiting for them, hovering in the center, still in his trademark tuxedo. He extended a hand towards Martin. “Delighted to meet you,” Philip said. The face behind the accent. Martin shook his hand. “Preparations have already been made,” Philip continued, addressing both men. “You have two staterooms on the top floor. Your pilot, Felix Acardi, is already aboard. You can talk to him at any time, of course.”

  Kato sighed. “Thank you,” he said to Philip. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me.”

  “Yes, well…” Philip said uncertainly.

  “If you’re worrying about loss of face with blowing off your sheikh passengers,” Martin said, “you needn’t. You’re playing a major part…” He trailed off. Martin then began to choose his words carefully. “Zara and Kato are the most famous people in history. You’ll be recognized for having helped at a crucial time.”

  Philip nodded. “Kato, I just hope and pray she makes it back. She’s a most charming young lady. Irreplaceable.”

  Kato sighed and nodded. “Yes. That she is.”

  “I won’t be making the trip with you this time,” Philip said. “I’ve got pressing matters to attend to on Earth. Check your closets; you’ll find fresh clothes there. On me, of course.”

  “Thanks again,” Kato said.

  The dark blue uniformed steward guided them along the handrails and they proceeded into the gaping mouth of Gansevoort’s docking port. Martin really hoped it would be a while before Kato figured out it was a complete wild goose chase. They glided into the cushioned white leather heart of the ship, and were then directed to two adjacent staterooms. The steward helped Martin into his flight couch. It molded itself to his form, and two comfortably fitting straps automatically crossed his chest and waist. Martin’s stomach rose into his chest as he lay there, weightless. The steward had left the room, no doubt to help Kato, and Martin was now alone. He looked around at the plush décor of the spacious stateroom. Was this really a spaceship? So this was how the other half lived. One gravity all the way there, in an environment that was akin to a mansion. It sure beat a week in economy class! He would be arriving in the grandest style of any Clarke Academy employee in history. And all to watch with the rest of the world as the final few days of the hourglass that was Zara’s life ticked down to zero.

  Chapter 29

  Lana Kasun was Eastern European by descent, but she had been raised in America. Her mid back-length straight black hair flowed around her somewhat long face. She had a light tan complexion, and wore a turquoise suit with wide lapels and flared pants, over a white blouse, and had on high-heeled shoes. She stood in a large room that was glass on two opposing walls. It was an airlock into a clean room the size of a vast aircraft hangar. In the center stood Interplanetary Interstellar Explorer, resplendent in its silver, almost iridescent glory. The ship was a thick oval, as large as a football field. The underside of IIX looked as though it had been sucked upwards from within, creating a huge concave mirror. The top had a corresponding bulge. The giant room was lit from above by many rows of harsh fluorescent lights. They reflected from IIX’s hull in eccentric curved lines, like the longitude lines on a globe.

  Lana liked to step out of her office and just look at the ship. She admired IIX’s alien appearance. The invention, work, and technology that had gone into building her gave Lana goose bumps. It was hard to believe the craft had actually been to another star. What Lana would not have given to have actually ridden in IIX’s warp bubble outside of spacetime to reach that distant place. The edges of the hull, from Lana’s viewpoint on the ground, reflected the dark walls. This made it hard to trace the ship’s outline. IIX was held aloft by ten large steel pistons with rubber pads at the ends, as she had no landing gear. A large square hole in the underside of the craft was where the work to overhaul the zero-point source was taking place. Scissor lifts and parts, including half-molten ablators, lay on the ground.

  The huge clean room was situated on the inside of a constantly spinning wheel, 800 meters wide, whose rotation provided artificial gravity. Looking up, Lana could see other engineering areas and laboratories stretching upwards, also stuck to the inner surface wheel, finally meeting at the top directly above her head. The entire Space Engineering Facility was bolted onto the Mars-facing side of the planet’s moon Phobos, which had almost no gravity of its own. When IIX next departed, the roof of the clean room would retract. She would be hoisted by steel cables up to the airlock, in the center of the wheel. Doors would open to admit her. Once inside, she would be free to float, no longer held down by centrifugal force or suspended from the cables. The lock would then depressurize, and a giant iris door would open, allowing IIX out into space.

  The clean room was nearly empty of people, as the engineers had gone home. (Home was another identical wheel a few hundred meters away, which provided living quarters for a few thousand people.) It was 8 PM on a Friday evening, Mars Standard Time. Lana had stayed late. Today, Lana was not just here to muse over interstellar travel. She had received the mother of all cries for help a few hours ago, from a man she knew well: Martin Swiercynski. Lana was ashen-faced as she looked up at the otherworldly ship. She closed her eyes. To try and rescue Zara, probably without Kirsti’s blessing, or not to try? First things first; would it even be possible to get IIX ready to fly again so quickly? If the ablator blocks were here, it might just have been possible, with enough people to help… But how could Zara actually be rescued, even if IIX could rendezvous with her ship? Breathe, she told herself. Focus. What would Mama have done? No-brainer. She’d have tried the rescue, even at great cost to herself. Speaking of cost, Lana would be fired for insubordination if this were even attempted… But… how to get ablator blocks? What was the risk of destroying IIX by making a mistake in the hurry to get her flying? What if Martin was wrong, and Zara was not even heading to Ceres? There was one person she could call: her friend and direct report Arvid Steele, the project manager.

  “Hey, Arvid,” Lana said.

  “Heyyyy, Lana!” came the slightly Norwegian accent.

 
“Sorry to disturb you at this late hour, on a Friday night…”

  “No problem. Everything okay?”

  “Well...” Lana went on to explain about Zara’s disappearance and Martin’s plea for help on Kato’s behalf. The line went silent. “What do you think?” Lana asked.

  “There’s a lot to think about. And doing it without Kirsti’s approval… that scares me silly. Not sure how we’ll keep her in the dark. Plus, I highly doubt MX9 will suddenly deliver our ablators, especially on a weekend,” Arvid fumed. “I cannot believe the lack of service and communication from them.” After a long moment, he said: “We could steal the ablators.”

  “What?”

  “We could fly one of the cargo ships down and just take them. Assuming they have the right size lying around, that is. MX9’s depot is a hundred kilometers north of Marineris.”

  A guttural “Uh…” was all Lana could manage to get out. Her vision blurred. Was Arvid really suggesting this? Breathe. “So… you’re actually saying that the MSF should just help ourselves to something that’s not ours to take?”

  After a few seconds pause, Arvid replied: “Basically, yes. It’s not without its downsides of course…”

  Lana sputtered. “Damn right it’s not! Even if we did manage to pull this thing off, the MSF’s reputation would be forever tarnished. I won’t allow it.” Had she really just completely ruled out any chance of pulling off the rescue?

  “Well, what if there was a patsy?” Arvid said. “A fall guy to take the blame and be publicly expunged from the organization, along with all traces of scandal?”

  “Who were you thinking of using for this?”

  “Me.”

  Stunned silence.

  At last, Lana spoke. “If you’re willing to sacrifice your career, and quite likely your freedom, for this, then I’m willing to do it. Get a crew together, and meet me at Spaceport A. Onondaga’s docked there, so take her. While you’re doing that, I’ll have to try and round up another few hundred people to work on IIX. But, there’s precious little time. I spent too long procrastinating. Go. Do what you have to. Godspeed.”