“Override is not authorized,” the ship responded.
Rachel stared coldly at Curra. “Command Mode,” she said softly.
“Command Mode, Aye, Captain,” the ship responded.
“Seal the bridge. Order all personnel to quarters. When they all are in place, seal quarters.”
“Sealing the ship, aye, Captain.”
No one on the bridge moved for a very long time. “The ship is sealed, Captain.”
“Command Mode, please explain why you took the actions you just took.”
The ship’s synthesized voice explained, “Under the terms of Directive 10, Section five sub paragraph three, if the identity of an entity claiming to be a Space Force officer cannot be conclusively verified, even if that entity is the last person alive on the ship, command may not be turned over to them. Command shall reside with the senior most person whose identity can be verified without regard to whether the person is an officer or enlisted person.”
“Please explain why you are unable to verify his identity,” Rachel said.
“He does not have a medical transponder. All regular Space Force officers carry transponders,” the ship replied.
“Now Grant and I will call you Grant because I don’t know what your real rank is, I think it’s time you told us the truth. Before you do, however, I am not sure that I will believe you even now. Faye Anne was my friend and I trusted her. It now becomes obvious that I can no longer trust her either. I would like you to listen to something.”
The ship replayed a recording in which Faye Anne and Grant gloated to each other that they had succeeded in hiding their true mission from the others on board.
Rachel continued, “Trust is a fragile thing. Combat officers depend on Intelligence Service for accurate information. We depend on you to give us information that will allow us to succeed in our missions and keep us safe. We know you don’t tell us everything. We understand. We expect you will tell us everything that is relevant to our ability to succeed in our mission. I know that Hammersmith is one of yours. I know that Lt. Martini, our esteemed combat intelligence officer, is one of yours. She has been sliding down into her seat since I returned to the bridge. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?”
Lt. Martini refused to meet her gaze and sat silently.
“There are others. I won’t even pretend we know who all of them are, but let’s see what we can find out. Command mode, initiate transponder verification on all personnel.”
“All the Marines on the flight deck verify. Lt. Martini verifies. Lt. Hammersmith’s transponder reports that he is female. Spec 4 Suggs in munitions does not match known personnel.”
“Please print a list of all suspicious personnel on board,” Rachel ordered.
“Printing.”
“Wendy, would you grab that please?”
“Got it!”
Rachel turned back to the man who had been introduced to her as Captain Grant Curra. “So, Grant, did you bring us here to get us killed or are we really here to save a planet full of isolationists that don’t want to be saved. Or perhaps is our presence a cover to allow you to pick up and move a high security prison of some kind? Are we a giant smoke screen? Grant, tell us what is going on so we can save the lives of those people down there before it is too late. Before you say anything, remember that the people I care about and I will survive this. As for the people you care about, it’s up to you.”
Curra stared at her for a long time. “I could say anything in my most sincere voice and with my most carefully chosen words and I doubt you would believe me. But, you know something, it doesn’t matter. In spite of what your electronic toy says, you are guilty of mutiny. I will have your hide.”
Captain Darwin had quietly slid around behind Curra. With a speed that impressed even Hammersmith, she tore off his shirt, spun him around and removed his holster. The Marines not otherwise occupied grabbed him and held him captive as much to keep her from killing him as to keep him from killing her.
Rachel wandered to Lt. Sonya Martini. “Lieutenant, please stand.”
She stood. Her normally olive colored skin was almost white.
“I suspect that you can tell me what they won’t.”
The young lieutenant looked at Rachel with terror. She folded her hands between her thighs to protect them. Rachel suspected that someone had told her about the time she drew a confession out of a traitor by putting a small slice in his fingertip with the throwing knife she carried behind her neck.
Rachel leaned close the lieutenant’s face. “I don’t like hurting people. I only do it because I have to. Captain Darwin here, however, she likes hurting people. She thinks it’s fun. I don’t. She does. Now, she’s never hurt a woman that I know of, but she has killed men and put a hurt on some. I think you would rather talk to me than to her.”
Rachel smiled in the lieutenant’s face.
“They’re the P A F!” Faye Anne shouted. “They are People Against Fission! That’s who’s in the prison. They’re dangerous terrorists.”
Curra tried to shout her down, but her words got through.
“People Against Fission,” Rachel wandered over to Curra. “Let me guess. You have a secret prison down there that you have locked up a bunch of what you think are real bad guys. Let me guess that nobody knows where these guys are. Even the President doesn’t know who’s here or how long they’ve been held. It’s possible that she doesn’t even know the prison exists. Let me go one step further. Some of the people you are holding may not be who you thought they were or in fact are innocent and if they get out, there will be hell to pay. So along comes this comet. If it hits the planet and obliterates everything and all the prisoners die, you’re off the hook, but if it doesn’t obliterate everything and only breaks down the prison walls, you have real bad guys and wrongly accused bad guys wandering around loose on the planet waiting for a rescue that will show up when the planet misses its regular shipment of lumber. Based on the current calculations, that is exactly what will happen if we do nothing.”
Rachel wandered back over to Faye Anne. “Let me think this through. I can’t claim to be a nice person. I did put a little cut in someone’s finger to force a confession. And I have killed with my throwing knife, but that was a long time ago. Now, if I could to that and I don’t like hurting people, I don’t even want to think what someone who does like hurting people could do to someone they think is sabotaging nuclear power plants. So, let’s assume that what has been going on down there may not pass the scrutiny of the Justice Department. Am I close?”
The silence was oppressive.
“You know, Grant, is that your real name, Grant? You know, that had you told me this when we were still in Earth orbit, I would have kept your secret, and I would have helped you plan this little endeavor of yours. But, you’re a spook. You tell a lie when you could tell the truth. Here’s what we’re doing from now on. You’re leveling with me. I want to know who your people are although I probably already know. The ship has been programmed so that you can’t lock me out. You will start by telling me your real name, rank and branch of service.”
They stared at each other.
“Grant, if you tell me the truth, you will get what you want. I will not threaten you, but if you refuse, many people you would like to save will die. It’s up to you.”
“I am Commodore Grant Charles Curra Federation Space Force Covert Special Operations. I will have you busted for this.”
“Perhaps. Wendy, please assemble the engineers and flight crews in the battleship’s galley. Have Lt. Mahoney join us here. Tell the engineers their mission is to figure out a way to prevent the destruction of the planet by the comet. Make sure they have food and whatever materials they need. Do not let them out of the galley until they have a solution. Give that list you’re holding to the remainder of the Marine detachment. Have them put the suspicious individuals under guard in their quarters.”
“Aye, Aye Captain!” Wendy raced out of the crowded bridge.
�
��Captain Darwin, you have the conn. When Lt. Mahoney gets here have her stay with you. Seal the bridge. Do not let anyone other than myself or my sister on the bridge.”
“Aye, Captain, I have the conn.”
“Everyone else will adjourn to the conference room next to my quarters so we can develop a plan for evacuating the prison without getting killed by the planet’s defense system.”
The crew from the bridge reconvened in the conference room. Curra, Hammersmith and Faye Anne were tied to their chairs with their hands and feet bound. Lt. Martini was not restrained. Her pallor showed that physical restraints were not necessary.
“You cannot treat a superior officer like this!” Curra challenged Rachel.
“You’re right. I can’t. My father will be very upset with me when he finds out. You should have heard the way he yelled at me over cutting that guy’s finger. So, how do we evacuate the prison and what do we do with the prisoners once we do? Do we attempt to relocate the unfortunates that have been determined to be innocent?”
Lt. Martini hid her hands under her thighs in her seat.
The argument was heated and lasted twelve hours during which time only the Marines were allowed to leave. None of the other participants were fed or allowed relief of any kind. In the end, they determined that there was no way short of destroying the planet’s defensive system that they could evacuate the prison without help from the planet’s more visible inhabitants. The prisoner and guard transfers had previously been covered by the arrival and departure of the cargo shuttles handling the lumber exports.
At the end of the argument, Rachel confined all the bridge personnel except the Marines to quarters and went to bed.
When Rachel awoke, she went to the galley. Reuben, Rashi and two engineers were working on calculations. The rest were crashed out in heaps on the floor or draped across the tables and chairs.
“How are you doing?” Rachel asked a bleary eyed Reuben.
Rashi answered, “We call it the Nemesis defense. We named it after one of Isaac Asimov’s books. If we throw enough ships transitioning into hyper drive at the comet we should be able to divert it enough to avoid the planet.”
“Are you sure it will work?”
“Not yet. We’re still working the numbers. It looks good. It should work, but we don’t know how many times we have to hit it to move it enough to divert it. There is a limit to how many ships we can parade by in a fixed period of time due to the turbulence the energy fields will create. I would hate to make them think they have dodged a bullet only to get slammed because we got over confident.”
“Carry on. Let me know when you are finished.”
“Aye, Captain.” He grinned.
Twelve hours later Reuben called Rachel. They had the answer and were ready to present.
When everyone had gathered in the galley, Reuben stood supporting himself by leaning on the back of a chair. “Let me jump to the end. We need a parade of ships making close fly bys of the comet to push it out of the way with hyper energy waves. We need to have one ship pass the comet every forty-five minutes for this to work. We need to use all our ships, including this one, to get the necessary mass to move the comet out of the way. If we start within the next hour, the comet will pass outside of the orbit of the planet’s moon. If we wait a week, it will pass inside the orbit of the moon, missing the moon, but outside of the planet’s atmosphere. There is no danger of collision with the moon because the moon’s orbit puts it on the opposite side of the planet when the comet passes by. If we wait longer than a week, some portion of the comet will hit the atmosphere. Depending on where the rocky pieces in the comet are, there may or may not be damage on the planet’s surface. If we wait two weeks, the main cluster of chunks that makes up the center of the comet will hit the atmosphere. If that happens, we know there will be substantial damage on the planet’s surface. The sooner we start the better.”
One of the fire control officers asked, “Why can’t we just blow it to bits with missiles?”
“Two reasons,” Reuben replied. “First, unlike an asteroid, there is no real hard body of rock to hit. There are many smaller bodies. Even with our best missiles, we would spend a lot of ordinance pushing around small pieces of rock without destroying them. The second reason is that even if we pulverize the pieces of rock, we have not changed their path or their total mass. They will continue on their current path and hit the planet pretty much as if we didn’t even try to stop it.”
Rachel scanned the exhausted engineers. “Everyone to bed. In twelve hours we will meet in the hospital ship galley to discuss our plans.”
Wendy looked at Rachel and said, “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I need twelve hours to figure this out. Grab some coffee. Bring Isaac and Joshua. We’ll meet in my conference room and talk this through.”
DEPLOYMENT - CHAPTER TWENTY - ONE
IN SPITE OF PETER’S BEST efforts, Elizabeth was not Peter. The four humans and one computer wrestled with the options for several hours before coming to a decision.
Before meeting with the rest of her crew, Rachel had Reuben communicate with the three most senior of the scientists who lived among the planet’s population. They agreed that the opportunity to study the comet under the stress of approaching a body as large as the planet was too good to ignore and that close fly-bys of the comet for the purposes of scientific observation were in order. The scientists agreed to relay the concept to the planet’s governing council.
“Here’s the plan,” Rachel said to the assembled crew. “We are implementing Nemesis exactly as described. We start flying as soon as crews can be briefed. It’s that time, folks. Let’s go.”
A week after initiating Nemesis, Rachel pulled Reuben aside. “When will we know if it’s working?”
“It’s working. We have measured a slight deflection in the comet’s trajectory. There is more mass in there than we originally measured, but we appear to be making headway.”
“Carry on.”
A week later Rachel received an angry communication from the planetary council demanding that she stop all military maneuvers in the system. She replied that she was conducting pilot training and under the terms of the Federation charter as long as such exercises did not pose a threat to the system’s population, she was authorized to conduct whatever exercise she wished.
Within hours of the acknowledgment of the Federation ships in question authority to conduct such an exercise within the system’s boundaries, a flight of four fighter-interceptors broke from their patrol pattern and set course to intercept the Federation fleet now working on the approaching comet. They made no attempt to hide their actions. In fact, with their ship identifier transponders broadcasting at maximum gain, it was obvious that they wanted everyone to know who they were and where they were going. When they were close enough to the Federation fleet that the delay in light speed communications would be only mildly irritating, the flight leader hailed the Albert Schweitzer on a Federation mandated open hailing frequency.
“Captain Solomon, this is Captain Tobias Bozak, Everest Planetary Defense.”
“Captain Bozak, this is Captain Solomon, how can I be of service?”
“Captain, the same protocol that allows you to conduct exercises here in our system allows us to observe the exercises. I have four ships with which I would like to observe your activities.”
“Of course, Captain. Let me transmit the exercise parameters so you can take your station where it will be safe to do so.”
“Thank you, but that will not be necessary. We know where we want to take our positions and with your permission, we will proceed to those locations.”
“We will pause the exercise until you are on station. Please inform me when we may continue.”
“Thank you, Captain. We will contact you when we have taken our positions.” The positions the four small ships took completely obstructed the path the ships attempting to head off the comet would need to take.
“Ca
ptain Bozak, your ships are in the line of fire.”
“What better place to observe your tactics, which frankly we don’t think make much sense.”
Rachel inwardly fumed. “All ships return to base. The exercise is over.”
When Rachel had calmed down enough that she was sure she would not kill some innocent person who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, she headed for Captain / Commodore Curra’s cabin. The Marine standing guard admitted her. When she arrived, he appeared to be sleeping.
“Get up Slick Willie! You’re coming with me! You had me fooled and you fooled lots of other people. Let’s see if you can talk your way out of this one! You want the prisoners, I want the rest of the planet’s population out of harm’s way. Put on your flight suit. We’re going to pay the council a visit. You will do your best impersonation of a real person and convince these people to leave with us.”
Curra rolled over in his bunk to show his back to Rachel. “Bad idea.”
“What makes you think I believe you?”
“I know you don’t. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t make it a good idea. It’s still a bad idea.”
“And I assume you aren’t telling me why it’s a bad idea.”
“Correct. Besides, you can’t force me.”
“I can.” She covered her face with a breathing mask as the cabin filled with a sticky smell.
Curra awoke strapped into the copilot’s seat of a med-evac ship. Rachel was asleep in the pilot’s seat. He attempted to remove his straps and found he was locked in as tightly as any cargo on any ship bound for re-entry. He attempted to operate the controls and found them locked. He attempted addressing the ship with voice command. A small legend flashing on his display told him that voice command recognition had been terminated. He was headed for the planet and he was not happy. He squirmed and strained against his restraints, but to no avail. His head throbbed. He was about to enter the atmosphere in a ship that either was under remote control or was following a pre-programmed flight plan and there was nothing he could do about it. Rachel slept soundly in the other seat.
Solomon Family Warriors II Page 80
