It drifted away for a minute, then the attitude rockets burned for a few moments; the shuttle’s orientation turned, then the engines fired and it accelerated away from both the Argonos and the alien ship. The acceleration was gentle, but soon the shuttle was gone from view.
I turned to the monitor screen in the bulkhead behind us, my heart racing. Ship cameras had picked up the shuttle, and followed it now as it moved toward the stern of the Argonos, angled away from the hull. The flames from the engines cut off, and I held my breath, waiting. . . . The shuttle continued on, velocity steady now, but with no other signs of life. No attack from the alien ship.
“Everything looks good,” Pär said, sighing with relief.
“Yes. For now.”
For now. When each shuttle or harvester was ten hours out from the Argonos, a number chosen almost arbitrarily at what we guessed would be a safe distance, it would hold until the others joined it. When we had all arrived and rendezvoused, we would change direction so we were headed for Antioch, then resume acceleration. This time acceleration would continue for some hours. Four and a half months later, if there were no disasters, we would reach Antioch.
I turned around and looked at the five other shuttles in the hold. Every one of them was loaded, packed, ready to go. There were another five shuttles in the second transport hold, and finally the three harvesters in their own bay.
I wanted to send them out two or three hours apart, but that would have been too time-consuming—for many reasons, not the least being the psychological stress on those desperate to leave. Instead, they would go an hour apart. Two more shuttles, then the first harvester; the other three shuttles in this hold, then the second harvester; the remaining five shuttles, then finally the last harvester, loaded only with cargo and manned by three pilots. Pär and I would be on the third harvester, the last to leave.
If anything unexpected happened, if the alien ship came alive and attacked either the Argonos or any of the shuttles or harvesters, the timetable would be abandoned, and everyone would launch immediately, one right after another, scattering in all directions. I prayed—to what or whom I had no idea—that it wouldn’t come to that. At the same time, I could not really believe that we would be able to launch all those vessels without provoking a response from the alien ship.
I turned back to the monitor. The image of the shuttle was larger than I’d expected; but it had now cleared the stern of the Argonos, and was slowly shrinking as it pulled away. I checked the running clock in the lower right corner of the monitor. Nineteen minutes. I breathed in deeply, then slowly exhaled. An hour was going to be a long time.
THE tension heightened three hours later when the first harvester launched. Sixteen hundred people, all at once. The first three shuttles were safely away, with no response from the alien ship, but the harvester was so much larger, and filled with so many people . . . Pär and I watched on the monitor as the massive cylinder dropped out of the side of the ship, topped by the bubble of the pilot’s cabin. So large, and yet so small when compared to the Argonos and the alien ship. Maybe it could get away unmolested.
Attitude jets fired briefly, orienting the harvester, then the main engines came on, a ring of fire at the vessel’s stern; they burned brightly and the harvester gradually gained velocity. After several minutes, the engines were shut down.
My heart was beating hard and fast, and I kept forgetting to breathe as we watched the harvester head away from us.
“How many more of these do we have to go through?” Pär asked. “How many more hours?”
“Too many,” I replied.
“No shit,” he said. “I’m not sure I can take it.”
We watched for the entire hour, by which time the harvester was only an indistinct fleck on the monitor. Nothing had happened.
I turned and signaled to the pilot in Shuttle Four to prepare for launch.
* * *
WHEN the last of the shuttles in the first transport hold was gone, Pär and I headed for the harvester bay. Geller was in the second transport hold, and would oversee the rest of the shuttle launches from there.
The Argonos was so quiet it seemed dead. Soon, one way or another, it would be. I had walked through empty corridors before, particularly at night; I had walked for hours without seeing a soul. But the emptiness now as Pär and I walked through those same corridors was palpable.
“We tried this once before,” Pär said. “Escaping from the Argonos.”
“Under very different circumstances. This time we’re going to make it.”
Pär nodded. “Yes, it seems so. And it worries me.”
“What?”
“Why they’re letting us go.”
“The aliens?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve thought about it, too. Sometimes I think it doesn’t make sense to try to understand them. They’re alien.”
“But you have some thoughts?”
“Yes,” I said. “Maybe they don’t realize the shuttles and harvesters won’t return. Maybe they don’t realize how many people are inside them. Maybe they do realize those things and don’t care, because they figure we’re all headed toward Antioch, and they believe they can follow any time they want.” I paused, not wanting to say aloud my greatest fear. “And maybe they want us to think we’re getting away so that our terror is all the greater when they come after us.”
Pär smiled and nodded. “You have been thinking about it. I have, too, and I suspect the latter alternatives are closer to the truth.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” I said. “It doesn’t matter what they think, or what they plan to do. This is the only hope we’ve got.”
* * *
THE harvester eased out of its berth and onto the launch pad. Stars before us, and no hint of the alien ship, although it would become visible as we emerged from the bay. Pär and I sat in the cabin with the three pilots, strapped into the reserve seats. In a little more than one hour, we would be the last to leave.
I felt as if we were abandoning those who remained behind. The fact that many of them chose to stay did little to ease the sense of guilt; I tried not to think about them too much.
Maxine Shalimar, Jimmy Lycos, and Amar Mubarak were the three pilots. I knew them only slightly, but enough to know they were good.
“Bartolomeo?” It was Nikos, his voice coming through the cabin speakers.
“Yes, Captain.”
He hesitated a moment, then said, “I guess I am still captain.”
“As long as the Argonos sails, you are its captain,” Pär said.
“Thank you. Everything ready?”
“Yes.”
“The harvester, Maxine?”
“She’s ready, sir.”
“Video?”
“Everything’s clear so far,” Amar said. “But we’re still inside. Once we get out, who knows?”
“All we can do,” Nikos said. “How soon to launch?”
Maxine glanced down at her console. “Ten minutes until the last shuttle leaves, then one hour after that for us.”
“Once you lock down transmissions,” Nikos said, “you are to unlock for nothing, understand? I know we’ve talked about it, but I want it clear. Give them nothing to track. No matter what happens to us, I don’t want to hear a thing from you.”
“We understand,” I said. “Radio silence, all the way.”
We would still receive the command channel transmissions, which would be dispersion-broadcast so there would be no way to track them to us, as well as video from three different cameras and from a tracking probe the Argonos would launch after we all were gone; the probe would maintain a constant distance from the ship as it accelerated toward the jump. But we would be unable to send anything to anyone. We would be mute. Another precaution that was probably pointless, but almost everything was impossible to be sure about; so we took every precaution we could.
“I hear anything, I’ll cancel all transmissions from the Argonos.” He paused. “And if somet
hing goes wrong here, I don’t want you turning around and heading back. I know there are only five of you, but you’ve got a hold full of equipment, food, and supplies that could mean the survival of several thousand people.”
Maxine smiled. “Don’t worry, Captain. No matter what happens, we’ll leave all of you here to rot.”
“Thanks, Maxine.”
“Five minutes until the shuttle goes,” Amar said.
We sat in silence. I swiveled my seat around in a full circle, studying the dark interior of the harvester hold. We were leaving the Argonos, never to return. My home. Home for all of us. No longer.
“Captain, we’ve picked up something.” It was Cardenas, on the command channel.
“What, Margita? From their ship?”
“Yes. Very subtle, Captain. A change in hull reflectivity. It’s increased. I don’t understand it, and I don’t understand what it could mean.”
“Anything else?”
“Not yet. But we’d better expect something. What’s left to launch?”
“The last shuttle in a couple of minutes, then the cargo harvester in another hour.” He paused. “You think we should hold up on the shuttle?”
“I don’t know,” Cardenas answered. “Maybe they both should go immediately.”
“Bartolomeo?”
“Let’s not make any drastic changes yet,” I said. “Hold the shuttle for five minutes. If nothing changes, let it go.”
“Sounds good. I’m switching over to their channel.”
Silence for a minute, then Nikos came back on.
“They’re holding. Anything, Margita?”
“Not yet.”
Another five minutes of silence that stretched on and on, time dilating.
“Off channel,” Nikos said.
“Amar,” Maxine said. “Bring the shuttle bay to monitor one.”
We watched the shuttle slide out of the transport bay, drift away from the Argonos for a minute, then fire its attitude jets, slowly swinging around. The jets cut, then the main engines fired.
A strange, rolling vibration went through us, ending with a sudden jolt.
“What the hell was that?” Nikos shouted. “Margita?”
“I don’t know, Captain. We’re not detecting . . . no, wait, something’s coming off the alien ship . . . I don’t know what . . .”
I looked at monitor two. Amar had the alien ship on it, and we could see a sphere of silvery light take shape, detach, then eject from the ship’s surface with an incredible speed, headed for the rear of the Argonos.
“What is that, Margita?”
There was no answer. Amar was switching images, trying to follow the sphere. It was headed for the shuttle. Seconds later, it struck the shuttle and burst in a shower of silver glitter.
The shuttle engines died. But the shuttle continued to move away from the two ships, although much more slowly than the other shuttles had, and there were no obvious signs of damage.
Crackling sounds, then someone’s voice came over the command channel.
“We’re hit! We’re hit!” It was Masters, one of Shuttle Eleven’s pilots, breaking radio silence.
“Masters!” Nikos barked. For a brief moment I thought he was going to berate Masters for unlocking transmission, but he didn’t. “Damage or injuries?”
“Don’t know, Captain. Don’t think so. There was no concussion . . . we could see it coming, but when it burst over us we felt nothing except a kind of tingling, and the engines died. All other systems are still functioning. And we’re moving. Slow, but moving.”
“Captain!” Cardenas again. “Here comes another one!”
On the monitor, the silvery sheen was once again forming a sphere on the hull of the alien ship. The sphere detached and ejected from the ship, directed again at the shuttle.
The cameras followed its trajectory more closely this time, knowing what to expect. One zoomed in on it, and we could see more details. The sphere seemed solid, or at least opaque, its surface a glistening silver, electricity-like filaments sparking across it.
It burst over the shuttle, just like the previous one had, doing no visible damage.
“Masters. Status.”
There was no answer at first. A minute passed, then two. Finally a faint transmission came through.
“We lost everything,” Masters said. “Systems are back up, but only at three-quarters power.”
“Masters, try to refire the engines,” I said. “If they start, tell everyone to hang on and blast out of here at six g’s.”
“Captain?”
“Bartolomeo’s right. Do it!”
“Jimmy,” Maxine said.
Jimmy nodded. He knew what she wanted. He tapped away at the console and the harvester launcher lurched toward the open bay doors. There were no energy fields here, just the vacuum of space waiting for us.
The engines came to life on the shuttle, bright orange flaring on monitor one.
“We’re on!” Masters said.
The shuttle engines erupted, orange turning almost white and blue. The shuttle’s speed increased, slowly at first, then faster and faster.
“Number three!” Cardenas shouted.
“Wait, Jimmy,” Maxine said.
Another sphere was forming. Just before it reached full size, Maxine turned to Jimmy.
“Release!” Maxine ordered.
Jimmy triggered the launch pad release; there was a slight jolt, then we dropped through the open doors.
The sphere detached. We drifted out from the Argonos. The sphere shot away from the alien ship, again headed toward the shuttle. We weren’t in its path, but we were much larger than the shuttle, and I knew what Maxine was thinking. And hoping.
“Ten-second burn on the engines, then shut them down. Shut down everything!”
We lurched with the sudden acceleration, but almost immediately it stopped. Then all the lights went out, and the cabin was on batteries. Even the monitors were down, but now we were outside the Argonos and we could see the sphere coming.
What Maxine hoped for occurred. The sphere changed course and headed for us. Ten seconds later, it struck.
Like Masters said, there was no concussion. Silver glitter penetrated the harvester, a shower moving through us, tingling like electricity. A few moments later, it all faded away.
“Power up, Jimmy.”
Lights and life support came up first, the monitors came to life, then he refired the engines. The vibration as they came to life was incredibly comforting.
“Lock down transmissions and go!” Nikos ordered.
“Yes, Captain.”
“Lock down now!”
“Good luck, Captain.” Maxine nodded to Jimmy, and he locked down the transmission. “Kick them, Jimmy.”
The seats locked into place, the vibration became a roar, and I was crushed back in my seat as we blasted away.
55
WE were massive, barely maneuverable, and we accelerated slowly, the engines roaring. Jimmy angled us away from the ship, but not much; the quickest way to put distance between us and the alien starship was running the length of the Argonos.
The shuttle was still accelerating, growing smaller on the monitor as it left the Argonos behind. From the pilot’s cabin we could see its bright tail flaring, a tiny circle of fire against the black sky, like a comet blazing away.
As he’d promised, Nikos left the command channel open, and now his voice came over it.
“Engage drive engines,” he said.
We were nearing the rear of the Argonos, the drive engines coming into view—black and red and massive, the metal surfaces pocked and streaked and scoured by the detritus of space. They began to glow and shudder.
“We’re too damn close,” Maxine said.
“Got it,” Jimmy said.
The harvester was slow to respond, slow to change direction. The engines seemed to strain, becoming unbalanced under Jimmy’s commands; the entire structure of the harvester appeared ready to give. But the Argonos be
gan to fall away from us just as we were approaching the drive engines now building up their energies.
“Number four!” Cardenas called out. “No, no, it’s . . . something different this time, I don’t know . . .”
The alien ship was aglow, the silvery skin encasing it; everything seemed to be warping, distorting. Then suddenly a mass swelled up from the ship; it quickly differentiated into twenty or thirty spheres which burst forth like a star exploding.
“Shut it down, Jimmy! Everything, dammit!”
Jimmy’s fingers danced across the console, cutting the engines and power. We were moving fairly quickly now.
“Full acceleration,” ordered Nikos.
The spatial distortion from the Argonos drive engines reached us just before the first of the spheres. The harvester rolled and swayed, metal buckling. Nausea drove into my belly as I lost my sense of balance.
“Hang on,” said Maxine. “Just hang on.”
A sphere burst through us, followed a few seconds later by two more bursts. I felt electrified, and the sweat that broke out all over my skin seemed to burn, a frozen, charged, and invisible searing.
“Captain,” Cardenas said, “A dozen objects have just launched from the alien ship.”
“Bring up the Metzenbauer Field.”
There was a long silence. We were flying mute and almost blind, the engines still down.
“Maxine?” Jimmy asked.
“Don’t do anything,” she said. “Let them think we’re dead.”
We still had plenty of speed, though, and the two ships were receding from us; even faster now, I realized, because the Argonos was accelerating, though with the combined mass of the two ships they would be gaining velocity slowly at first. I swiveled my seat around, but we were at an odd angle, and I could only see parts of the Argonos and the alien ship.
“I’ll be damned,” Cardenas said. “The Field stopped all of them, whatever they were.”
“Jump coordinates set?” Nikos asked.
“They’re locked in, Captain. Nothing’s changed.”
Richard Russo Page 32
