by Darren Beyer
“Captain, third contact,” the sensor operator called out. “Another active mass sensor, bearing two one five, mark two zero, strength one point five, slowly increasing. Whatever is out there is under thrust and closing.”
Jans pulled Mandi as far from the captain as the cramped bridge would allow. “I know you want to help, and you will, but now isn’t the best time, and you’re in no condition to be here.”
Mandi pressed her lips together and glared.
Jans raised a corner of his mouth in amusement. “Your mother does that.”
“What?”
“That. Everything. You’re as stubborn as she is, aren’t you?”
Mandi didn’t relinquish her stare, and Jans sighed.
“All right.” Jans pointed toward the main screen, showing red dots in Dauntless’s aft quadrants. “We have three active mass sensor signals behind us. They aren’t on a direct intercept course, so I don’t think they’re zeroed in, but they know we’re out here—somewhere. They have their own stealth tech, and they’re pinging with their sensors, trying to find us.”
“Or…” Mandi studied the tactical plot. “They’ve seen Dauntless before—at Alnair—just before the invasion. The Coalition fleet was there, and they weren’t too happy about us crashing their party. It took everything the ship had to get us out in one piece.”
“I heard.”
“If it wasn’t for the Anghazi stealing my sleep, I’d have nightmares about what that little episode did to my neck. We shot out of there at a few g’s more than the…”
“Inertial dampeners.”
“Yeah, those things. More than they could compensate for.”
Recognition came to Jans’s face. “They saw Dauntless…” He looked away from Mandi. “Captain.”
Stanton turned toward him with his brow furrowed in annoyance.
“At Alnair, when you ran into the Coalition fleet entering the Casimir bridge. What acceleration were you under before you left?”
The captain thought for a few seconds. “It was tight—we needed all eight g’s.”
Jans’s eyes darted back to Mandi. “They know what Dauntless is capable of, but they don’t have anything remotely fast enough to catch us.”
“They aren’t trying to catch us.” Mandi looked at the tactical screen again. “They’re trying to drive us.”
“Drive us?” Jans said. “To what?”
“Captain,” Mandi called out. “At Alnair, they had a defensive screen. Sophia thought it was made up of the same things that hit the Gaussian.”
“Nuclear mass weapons,” Jans muttered under his breath.
“What if there’s another?” She walked to the tactical display and pointed to the area in their direction of travel. “Out here somewhere?”
The captain shook his head. “Why would they place a screen covering vectors to the outer system?”
“I don’t know. But they’ve seen what Dauntless can do, and they have to know they can’t catch her.”
“Which means we could be heading into a trap.”
“Captain Stanton,” Mandi interjected. “I’ve been working with Sophia on her sensor experiments. If I can take an aux station, maybe I could—”
“Sophia has sent us her new routines,” the captain said. “I’m sure we have things in hand.”
Mandi stared at him quietly.
The captain let out a frustrated sigh. “But if it will bring some quiet back to my bridge, take station two. You’ll find a headset in the equipment locker.”
Mandi smiled as she retrieved a headset and sat at the auxiliary station. It was different than the test equipment she and Sophia had been working with in her lab, but Mandi was damned if she was going to ask for help. After a few minutes, she had the screens configured the way she liked them. She pulled up the gravitational wave signal, patched the feed to the headset, and listened intently to the sounds of the forward-facing mass sensors.
Minutes, then more than an hour passed. Mandi’s head hurt, and she was tempted to head back to the med bay. Suddenly, her ears perked up, and she pressed both hands against her headset, pushing it tighter against the sides of her head. Something was different— something was out there.
But the sound was unclear, muffled. Fumbling with the settings, she tried to isolate the frequencies. Then, there it was: a short, low rumble. Seconds later came another, similar sound—the same purr Sophia had taught her to recognize.
“Captain—”
“Captain, sensors have detected a mass anomaly identified as a dampening field,” the bridge officer announced.
Mandi set her jaw and pressed her lips tight.
Noticing her frustration, the captain flashed a half smile and a wink. “Bearing and distance?”
“Three one zero, mark three five five, distance unknown.”
“Continue with readings. Triangulate for range.”
Anxious minutes passed as Dauntless continued drifting while the sensor officer did his work.
“Sir, sensors estimate range at point one five to point two miks.”
The captain drummed his fingers. “Any change in relative position?”
“None detected. It does not appear to be under thrust.”
The captain blew out a long breath. “At current heading, how close will that put us?”
“Estimated range is between point zero seven to point one miks.”
“Paint it on tactical.”
A translucent positional marker appeared on the screen. Jans shook his head. “That cuts it close.”
Mandi again pressed her headset tight. A new purr met her ears. “There’s another one,” she said.
All eyes on the bridge shifted to Mandi. The captain motioned with his head to the sensor officer, who quickly focused on his screen.
“I’ve got it,” the officer announced. “Bearing zero one two, mark three five nine.”
“That’s almost right in our path.” The captain didn’t need to wait for the new bogey to appear on the tactical display. “Well, this has gone pear-shaped in a hurry.” He turned to Mandi. “Strap yourself in, my dear. And Jans, take station one. We’re going to blast right by them.”
“Just one of those things crippled the Gaussian,” Jans said. “And we see two right now. How many don’t we see?”
“I know, but we don’t have a choice.” The captain turned to his bridge officers. “Prepare for main engine burn. Full active sensor sweep, all quarters.”
Chapter 16: Eridani
With a rare smile on his lips, Erik closed the Pathogen Protocol interface. Joy was an emotion he should no longer feel, but perhaps this occasion called for lowering his restraints.
“Comm, call Gregory Andrews.”
Andrews’s face appeared. It was obvious by his expression that something had him on edge.
“Erik. Make this quick. I’ve got the Coalition breathing down my neck. Pan Asian is raising holy hell over the disruption we’ve caused to their hyperium supply, and the president needs his fleet back. They want to be gone. We want them gone. We can’t get them out of here, and I’m catching holy hell for it all. You better have something good for me.”
“Grae Raymus is dead.”
Andrews stared through the screen. “Could you repeat that?”
“Grae Raymus. He’s dead.”
“Well now.” Andrews grinned from ear to ear. “That brightens things a bit.”
“There’s something else.”
Andrews cocked an eyebrow.
“The meeting I mentioned between AIC and the Nashira Brigade—Mikel’s people are making their move. They’re using the same ship we saw at Alnair to break out of the area around Ascension.”
Andrews leaned forward. “Were you able to backtrack it to Helios?”
“No. It’s almost invisible to our sensors, and with interference from Ascension, we didn’t detect anything until it was clear of the planet’s gravity well. But we have them now, and we are engaging.”
Andrews frowned. �
��I need to find Helios.”
“And the people on that ship will take us to it.”
“Only if you can catch it.”
“Or catch them at the meeting. Remember, I know where it will take place.”
“Okay.” Andrews settled back in his chair. “Whatever you do, I need at least one of those AIC operatives alive. We’ve been interrogating some of the people from their Hyperion facility. It seems that Mikel has been misrepresenting hyperium production. The mining operation at Hyperion has been played out for years, and Mikel was bringing that wonderful copper-colored metal in from somewhere else to make it all look viable—to keep up appearances for all those governments back on Earth. I think that ‘somewhere else’ is Helios. And if we don’t find it, then everything blows up.”
“Yes, but—” Erik paused.
“But?”
“What is the contingency? What if we don’t find it?”
“That is not an option. If we don’t find that base, and everything it’s hiding, then we are done.”
Erik stared into the screen for several long seconds.
“If I may present an option…” he said. “A backup plan of sorts.” Erik waited for a response. When none came, he continued. “There are still substantial stores on Hyperion.”
“Yes. That won’t last long, with all the disbursements scheduled for the Coalition, not to mention Pan Asian and Eastern Bloc.”
“So stop the shipments.”
“What?” Andrews couldn’t hide his incredulity.
“I’ve reviewed the current levels, and I consider it highly unlikely that we can uncover the location of Helios, capture it, extract its hyperium, and get it to the Sol system before we run out. Since we won’t have the hyperium to ship in, why don’t we take what’s there and ship it out? Bring it here—all of it.”
Andrews sat for a few seconds, then shook his head.
“The diplomatic repercussions would be catastrophic. The president would never go for it.” His tone suggested he was trying to convince himself as much as Erik. “And we would have to tell him. With the Coalition presence here, there would be no way to keep it secret.”
“All hyperium currently available is in the Sol system. The Pan Asian and Eastern Bloc fleets are also in the Sol system. The bulk of the Coalition fleet is here. I know our esteemed president seems to lack a logic gene, but even he should be able to grasp this concept. Hyperium: move it or lose it. Then, once it’s all here, you hold all the cards.”
Erik waited patiently as Andrews sat silent for a minute, staring up at the ceiling of his office, drumming his fingers together.
Finally, he spoke. “How long would it take to put this in motion?” He still didn’t look at the screen.
“One of the orders I initiated, and you approved, began the staging process—strictly as a contingency, of course. The first shipment could go out within days.”
“You have a diabolically clever mind, Erik.” Andrews leaned forward and met Erik’s gaze. “Don’t let it get the best of you.” He pulled back. “I’ll need the approval of the Coalition president—I’ll get it. Make it happen.”
Andrews terminated the call.
Erik stared at the blank screen, then brought up his comm. “Call Karis.”
The woman’s face appeared on Erik’s screen. Her expression was cold and professional, as always.
“Yes, Mister Hallerson.”
“Put the hyperium transfers in motion.”
“Consider it done.”
“Is our wounded duck in position?”
“The freighter Sudak Bay is staged near Saturn. I will send it the appropriate coordinates.”
“Good.” Erik paused. “One more thing. I assume you know our field test was a success.”
“I am aware—and we are still critically short of its components. Shipments are not arriving fast enough.”
“Of course.” Erik flashed a phony smile. “You will have to make it work. Commence phase one immediately. Pathogen Protocol—full deployment.”
Chapter 17: Eridani System
Multiple contacts aft,” the sensor officer called out. “Six—seven now—eight. Active sensor signals. Mass is one hundred tons, accelerating. Five g’s and increasing. Ten. Fifteen. Now twenty-five g’s.”
On the tactical plot, small triangles appeared well behind Dauntless, their velocity vectors pointing squarely at the ship.
The captain leaned forward in his command chair. “Those match the profile of the nuclear mass weapon that destroyed the Gaussian. Time to intercept?”
“Closest is nine minutes, fifteen seconds at current acceleration.” The navigation officer turned. “Increase our acceleration, Captain?”
“Negative.”
“Captain.” Jans stepped close. “If those are like the missile that took out the Gaussian…”
“I am familiar with the Gaussian footage,” the captain said. “And a few extra g’s won’t buy us much time. Navigation, cease forward acceleration. Orient for spinal weapon targeting on the closest inbound.”
The ship’s main engines slowed, then stopped their burn, and the reaction control thrusters fired to face the ship toward its pursuers.
“Captain, ship oriented and ready. Weapon locked.”
For a few moments, the captain sat silent, grim-faced, without emotion. Then: “Fire.”
From the long tube running along the belly of the ship, a beam of charged particles shot out at near light speed, blasting out for long seconds, crisscrossing to cover a wide area.
“Spinal weapon firing sequence complete. On cooldown.”
The bridge was silent and tense as everyone waited for the results of the ship’s first shot. Through the forward windows, a bright pinpoint of light appeared, like a searchlight was illuminating Dauntless.
“Hit on bogey alpha seven. Target destroyed.”
The captain took on an air of confidence. “Target the next closest and fire when ready.”
“All bogeys have gone evasive. We’re firing.”
Again the bridge was quiet as they waited to see the results of the salvo. Only this time no flash returned.
“Negative impact,” the sensor officer announced.
Dauntless continued to fire at the incoming missiles. The evasive maneuvers made it difficult for the slower-than-light particles from the spinal weapon to find a target, but two more dropped from the tactical display. Then, as the surviving missiles reached a distance of two hundred thousand kilometers, the display suddenly erupted with new bogeys.
“Captain, multiple new targets! Sensors can’t lock them all down. It appears that the closest missile MiRV’d. The child missiles are closing more quickly.”
“How long until they’re within anti-missile range?”
“Ninety seconds.”
“Very well. Continue targeting the missiles with the spinal weapon.” The captain turned toward Jans. “I guess this confirms that we’re seeing the same weapon as Gaussian—only this time, there are a lot of them.”
“Captain, anti-missile batteries have range.”
“Commence firing.”
As the seconds ticked by, missile after missile fell from the tactical plot. But the larger one, trailing the swarm of its children, still proved elusive. Mandi watched on the main screen as they came uncomfortably close.
“Fourteen child missiles remain. Impact in one minute, ten seconds.”
Dauntless’s anti-missile system continued its frantic defense as the smaller missiles closed in. Mandi looked to the timer on the tactical plot. There wasn’t much time.
“Orient three five zero, mark two five. Prepare for main engine burn, four g’s.”
“Twenty seconds and three missiles.”
“Deploy masskers. Mass dampeners full.”
“Closest parent missile detonated!”
“Engage main engines. ECM full power.”
Mandi’s fingernails dug into the armrests of her chair. She looked over at Jans and saw worry etched
on his face.
“Helium plasma impact in ten seconds. Nine, eight—”
Mandi held her breath. A loud bang assailed her ears, and the ship lurched.
“Child missiles proximity-detonated. Debris impacts in engineering section and—”
The sensor officer didn’t have time to finish his sentence before a concussive wave hit the ship. Mandi’s head slammed into her console hard enough to cause black spots in her vision. The artificial gravity ceased, and alarms rang across the bridge.
The ship’s automated voice spoke over the chaos. “Hull breach detected. Engineering section, C-deck, bridge—”
“All stations report!” the captain boomed.
A whistle of air announced a nearby breach. In the absence of artificial gravity, loose dust and debris swirled toward the source of the sound.
“Bridge, engineering. We have debris punctures in the starboard bulkhead. Antimatter safety cutoffs have been engaged, but reactor is intact. We’ll have the mains—”
The rest of the response was drowned out by the screeching sound of atmosphere being sucked into the vacuum of space. The captain motioned to a bridge officer who was already adjusting his mask and unbuckling himself. The man pushed his way to the equipment locker, pulled out a canister, spun, and sprayed dense liquid plastic rigiplast into the breach until the sound died away.
“Engineering, bridge. Say again ETA to main engines.”
“Bridge, engineering. Estimate two minutes to antimatter reactor operation. Engines and inertial dampeners will be back online as well.”
“Bridge, damage control. C-deck has a large rupture in the primary bulkhead. Recommend evacuating and sealing the compartment.”
“Damage control, bridge. Very well. Clear the area.”
The captain turned to study the tactical screen that still showed active sensor pings behind them—and closing.
“Damn.”
The ship’s automated voice called out, “Gravity initiated on bridge in ten, nine, eight—”
“Bridge, engineering. Antimatter reactor is online. Mains available in thirty seconds.”
“Thank God for that,” the captain said. The sensation of gravity slowly returned to the bridge. “Sensors, status on inbounds?”
