The Heart of the Comet

by David Brin

  —Oh shit,—Carl said.

  Virginia realized that they had nothing to bargain with, no possible help. She thumbed to open channel. “Listen, Otis. Carl and I can get the Arcists to leave off their attack, if you’ll let us do it.”

  —You offer me what? Diplomacy?—Sergeov’s contempt was plain.

  —It’s all you’ve got left.—

  —I have you. You shall not move a meter or I burn you.—

  “What good’s that do? Your problem is the Arcists.”

  —You are one having problems.—With that Sergeov began rattling instructions to someone in Russian. Virginia remembered there were several ex-Soviets among the Ubers; belief in your own perfectibility ran through both movements.

  She cut comm and touched helmets with Carl. “What can we do?”

  “Not a damn thing.” On the plain beyond, distant figures moved and an occasional small weapon winked. They crouched beneath the bulk, holding to struts. A bright flare burst only a few meters beyond the jagged edge of their shelter. Gouts of gas swept by them. An instant later another blue-white fireball winked on the opposite side, then was smothered by a swelling sphere of ivory.

  “He’s showing off how he’s got us bracketed,” Virginia said.

  “Probably start punching holes through this next.” Carl slapped the slab of metal in frustration. “One bolt alone won’t go through this, though.”

  “Can he keep one of his two lasers trained on us?”

  “Not for long. But he can’t afford for us to get away, either. I can’t see how—”

  A heavy thump shook the strut beneath Virginia’s hands. “Hey, what—” Another solid blow, followed by a trembling in the metal. “He’s trying to break through!”

  Carl shook his head, peering beneath his grimy visor. “A laser bolt doesn’t feel like that. This.”

  The platform lurched on its right side, biting into the ice, kicking up dust. Carl pressed his helmet against a big cross-bar of blue-gray prestressed steel. “Listen!”

  Virginia had barely touched the metal when she heard a loud crump followed by a low, persistent ringing. “What is it? I.”

  The entire platform shook. The next blow came only seconds later and this time she was looking to the side, and could see that there was no momentary blue flash illuminating the surrounding gray ice.

  “So he’s thought of that,” Carl said angrily.

  She guessed. “The launchers.”

  “Yeah. He can’t spare the laser, so he’s aimed a few launchers at us. Flinging empty casings at low speed, to prevent an explosion. Firing around this chunk of stuff, hoping to pick us off if we show.”

  A jolt shook the platform and the entire bulk lifted from the ice. Virginia felt a crump, crump, crump through her hands, three quick blows that pushed the platform a meter clear of the ice. She hung on, looking wildly at Carl. “He’s pushing us off!”

  —Get a good grip,—Carl sent.

  “But we can’t.”

  —Just hold on. We’ll have to move fast when…—

  Sergeov broke in, —I did not expect this, but is good.—

  “You can’t.”

  —Launcher is to keep you from getting inside. Even better if it gets rid, eh?—

  The platform rang and shook now with a steady hammering. Once sighted in, the launcher could pour a steady rain of the soft hollow slugs at them.

  Carl said, —The pellets just splatter like a marshmallow when they hit. They can’t get through this hard alloy. But they’re pushing us.—

  Virginia looked down. Already they were high above the stained gray plain, and gathering speed. The impulses from the launcher had driven them tangentially off the surface and now they passed over the battle scene. Random flashes, rising puffs of gas. She heard a click and recognised it as a symptom of a near miss by a microwave beam; the waves actually resonated with small bones in the human ear. Whoever it was didn’t fire at them again.

  Someone was running toward the shelter of a low line of fuel drums and she recognized the tabard of Joao Quiverian. A laser bolt caught the tall Arcist leader in midstride and a blue sun leaped in his chest. A small cloud rose from the body as it continued on its way, hugging the ground, arms flopping outward and spinning uselessly as it skimmed into a dust pit and disappeared.

  Figures glanced up at them but no one tried to come to their aid. Those below could undoubtedly see the results as a steady hail of slugs struck the other side of the platform, and knew that any approach would run that gauntlet. She called, “Sergeov!”

  —I gave you place to stay. You leave dome, you bring this on yourself.—

  “Look, we’ll—”

  —Too late for talk. I have battle to win, Arcists to kill. Goodbye.—

  “Carl, what’ll we.”

  —Don’t let go!—

  I’m not about to, she thought. Even if the whole thing’s making me… dizzy. Halley seemed to tilt in the sky, the speckled and blotched gray sheets rolling and veering as they swept over them, lifting…

  —Just what I was afraid of. We’re turning.—

  Of course. The slugs don’t hit evenly, so the platform is picking up spin. Sergeov, knows that…

  “Can’t we crawl around?”

  —It’ll be tricky. Come on, go left.—

  Carl moved with an easy grace she envied as she clumsily followed, not daring to let go of one strut before she had the next firmly in hand. The platform was to her a mountain of crossed metal strands, which she climbed hand over hand, a slight centrifugal pull tending to turn her outward and away from it. If the platform had been spherical, their maneuvering would have been simple—just keep on the side away from Halley. But as the slab turned, there was a short interval when it was edge on to Halley and the launcher slugs were passing by invisibly close. Virginia and Carl clung to the edge of the platform as this moment came, then scrambled to the new face, feeling slugs slam into the far side again. As she struggled for a secure grip she saw spalled and dimpled impact craters. And all this comes from empty casings, launched at a millionth the normal energy!

  The slab seemed to be spinning faster. “Are they trying to spin us?” She asked, panting.

  —Wouldn’t surprise me.—

  “How’ll we—”

  —Hustle!—

  She followed Carl around to the next corner and waited. The metallic sheen of the cold steel reflected the dim gray glow of Halley as the flat face slowly revolved, the curve of the cometary head rising over a warped tangle of rods and rivets. From this distance there was no sign of a battle, no indication of humans and their petty lives at all… only the smeared dust-scape, like an accidental abstract work of art glimmering in the starlight. Then she saw the long dashed Mine of equatorial launcher pits and realized that the machine which was propelling them could “see” them, too. She scrambled after Carl, around the edge.

  Virginia felt a clanging thump and saw a rod near her leg dissolve into nothing as a blur struck and sent it whirling away into space. She sucked in her breath and jerked herself around the lip of the platform.

  “It… it’s too dangerous, doing this.”

  —If we don’t keep this between us and the slugs, we’re dead.—Carl’s eyes were wide, and yet somehow calm, steady.

  “Can’t we jump off? Without something big to target on.”

  —Fine, only what about the slugs that miss the platform? And if Sergeov knows we’ve jumped, he’ll let the launcher wander around the target, to try to catch us.—

  Carl’s voice was almost matter-of-fact, assessing possibilities. Virginia clung to a pipe, legs drawn outward, the steady thump-thump-thump coming through her hands. It was hard to think. “Look, let’s put our maneuver jets on impulse. That’ll get us clear fast.”

  —Yeah, but it’ll take a lot of push. These jets haven’t been kept up well, either.—

  “We haven’t any choice!”

  —We’re safe here.—

  Virginia didn’t like the distant, r
esigned look on Carl’s face. “And every minute we get further away from Halley!”

  —Yeah, you got a point.—He frowned. Shaking his head. Trying to care.

  Halley’s pale horizon began rising over the platform’s lip.

  —Let’s go jump straight off the edge as it comes round. Sergeov can’t hear us, with all this metal blocking our comm.—

  He looked at her with an unreadable, pensive expression. She struggled over to the lip of the platform and got her feet braced against a tangle of struts. “Say when.”

  —Wait…got your jet activated? Put it on emer override for a twenty-second burst, see?—He flipped the switch for her. —Okay, throw ’er to full when I… say… now!—

  Virginia jumped as she threw the switch. A fist slammed into her waist and sent her hurtling, struggling to keep her hands and feet aligned. The thrust seemed to last forever and she fought an impulse to double up, present the smallest target for the slugs that she could feel streaking out from Halley, searching for her…

  Release. The savage thrust was cut off by the suit’s timer. She dipped her head and could see between her feet the platform, turning lazily. A silvery flange winked and tumbled away as she watched, liberated by a slug’s impact. If only Sergeov didn’t know what they’d done…

  Carl. Where was he?

  She looked around quickly, found nothing. If a slug hit you, would it just go straight through? Or would it give you enough push to drive you far away in only, a few moments, beyond view… ?

  Virginia didn’t dare call on comm. She turned in every direction, telling herself not to panic, to be systematic—and found him at last directly overhead, a doll-sized dot.

  Rendezvous took only a few moments. He came swimming toward her, braked, they locked hands and touched helmets. She had expected a moment of celebration, for surely they were out of the danger zone by now, but all he said was. “Now comes the hard part.”

  “What?”

  “Getting back to Halley.”

  “Won’t someone…” She was going to say, come after us? when she realized that obviously nobody would be thinking about a rescue in the midst of a battle. The Ubers and their allies had undoubtedly covered the shafts, bottling in anyone who could help. Besides, how many knew they were out here?

  “How far away are we?”

  Carl held up a small tube, pointed it at Halley’s acned, dwindling disk, and read off, “Twenty-three point four kilometers. And increasing at about three kilometers a minute.”

  “So far!”

  “A lot of slugs hit the platform.”

  “These suits…”

  “They have a big range. The real problem is getting back before our air runs out.” He gestured toward their inventory logs, running in color-coded lines down both sleeves of their suits. “Haven’t got a hell of a lot.”

  “How much delta-V can I get?”

  Carl did the calculation in his head, frowned, and resorted to his faceplate for a check. “Not much.”

  “We can still get back, can’t we?”

  “Yeah… only we’ve got to make up this three klicks per minute. It’ll take nearly all the juice we’ve got. Then we have to go the thirty or so klicks back to Halley…”

  His voice trailed off into a frustrated gesture as he punched in fresh figures on his board, attached at a waist pop-out. Virginia bit her lip. All this was going so fast, and she had no time to think.

  Carl stopped, typed in more, pressed his lips together until they were white. “Looks bad.”

  “How bad?”

  “Neither of us is going to make it back in time for fresh air.”

  “Neither?”

  “Can’t be done. That three klicks a minute takes a big bite out of our fuel.”

  “Then…” A dark foreboding, the underlayer she had felt for days now, swelled up in her. They were all going to die. Fate had managed everything so they would each face some excruciating death, alone and afraid, out here in the oblivious cold abyss…

  “We can overcome that three klicks per, but that leaves just a small velocity. The comet’s gravity won’t help much. It’ll take hours to get back to Halley.”

  And it’s getting worse as we talk. Each second takes us further away. Out into the emptiness, to join the frozen souls of the Edmund. Onlywe have to die, first…

  “Can’t one of us take both jet packs?”

  Carl shook his head. “They’re integrated, remember! Can’tpop one out without rupturing the air seal.”

  She didn’t remember, had never known that, but her mind skated quickly now, skittering over what she knew of dynamics. If there was some way…

  “Wait. Only one of us has to get back, get some help. Isn’t there some way to trade momentum between the two of us?”

  Carl looked puzzled. His face was grizzled and tired, dark circles rimmed his eyes. He looked older and more worn than she had ever seen hi, even at the peak of the plagues. He shook his head mutely, lips still tightly pressed, his eyes full of despair.

  She remembered something from long ago…fished for it…caught the fragment of n idea.

  “Wait. There’s something…”

  CARL

  Halley hung suspended in the consuming dark, its rotation long stolen by Man, its face now lit by his fitful fires.

  Carl watched the battle progress as he made his long approach. It was over three hours since he had separated from Virginia. By agreement they had kept comm silence. It had made the journey lonely and frustrating, for he could hear the scattershot shouts of the struggle, harsh cries and strumming sidelobes of microwave pulses—all without getting any clear idea of what they meant, of how the battle flowed. He had tried to concentrate on the blurted cries, not only because he needed to know the situation when he landed, but to quell his own anger.

  He scanned the looming landscape with a telescopic projection on his faceplate. Bodies of dead Arcists lay sprawled near the equator. Laser gouges pocked the hillsides, but now the Arcist lasers seemed to be knocked out. He spotted one broken into a shattered tube. The launchers had proved more effective than the clumsy welder-lasers. Farther to the south Carl could see a line of Arcists forming up around five microwave pulsers. The engagement would focus down there.

  The Ubers were moving out, skirmishing. They swept south from the equator, pursuing ragtag parties along a line of hummocks and rusty slagheaps. Everybody was keeping down, hiding in plumes of dust, using what shelter there was. The Ubers seemed better trained. They used fire-and-maneuver effectively, two figures shooting personal weapons at a nearby position while a third moved up to the next covered spot.

  She knew I’d never agree, so she didn’t even discuss it.

  Virginia’s idea was elegant and she had understood its implications from the instant it occurred to her. He recalled it all clearly, ruefully…

  Carl had thought of them linking belts, then his firing his jets until they were exhausted. Virginia would then separate, leave him, ignite hers, and reach Halley. Even that would not provide much margin. Worse, it would be tricky, because his jet would not fire directly along the axis of the two-body system. That meant she would have had to waste fuel vector-keeping.

  Virginia’s alternative was simple. They tethered with a hundred-meter line and Carl took an accurate sighting on potato-shaped Halley—ten times bigger than the moon was as seen from Earth, but a hundred and five kilometers away and shrinking visibly, swiftly. Carl had programmed his suit to give a clear beep whenever his velocity was aligned opposite to the Halley vector. They pulled the line between them taut, and Carl was about to start his jets—when Virginia fired first.

  “Hey!” he had cried. “Shut down!”

  —No, this is better—I’ll expend my reserve.—

  “Dammit! Stop!”

  —No, Carl-think it through.—Already they had begun to revolve about each other as Virginia’s jets built their angular momentum.

  “I’m going to fire, too,” he shouted.

 
—That’s stupid. Waste your reserves and we’ll both die. Just hang on.—

  “No, I can’t.”

  —I’m like a pig on ice out here. You can match velocities and make the trip with minimal fuel. And you’ll handle yourself better when you come down in that madhouse. You know that’s true. I’m not being self-sacrificing here. Far from it. I’d botch it and we’d both end up as icicles.—

  “I mass more than you,” be had raged. “I’ll pick up a lower velocity than you would—so I’ll take longer. That’s simple dynamics.”

  —I’m talking skill here, not Newton’s laws. You can do it Carl, and you know very well that I can’t.—

  “Dammit, I won’t let you—

  —Too late.—Across the hundred meters she waved cheerily as the stars wheeled behind her. The tether linked them, navel to navel. Centrifugal force bent him backward, as if he were suspended from his belly button.

  He struggled to think clearly against the steadily pressing hand. There had to be a way to stop her. “You can’t.”

  —I’m triggering on the signal.—

  “What?” So she had set up the came vector-seeking program, only hers marked a spot on the opposite side of their circle than his. His beeps had been coming regularly, uselessly, and now—

  —I’m down to two percent, —she called. —I’m going to sling you way.—

  She soared against the mad whirl of stars, the only fixed point in his centrifugal universe, and he heard his own ritual piping beep, knowing that hers would come a scant five seconds later.

  “Wait, there must be.”

  —Time’s a-wastin’, Carl. Fly fast!—

  With a decisive chop she freed the line.

  He felt the jolt as a sudden release, a return to freefall. Looking up, he saw that she had hit it just right—Halley hung above, a dim splotch.

  And below him, between his parted boots, Virginia waved with a slow, somber grace. He was alarmed at how quickly she shrank, a blue dot swallowed by the yawning space between the burning suns…

  … Three hours ago. He shook off the memory. He should have found a way to thwart her, to launch her Halleyward instead… but once she had committed her own fuel, he had been trapped. She had always been quicker than he, and maybe this time she had been right. He had to prove her correct now, get down to the surface and find a craft that could rescue her.