Paradigm 2045- Trinity's Children

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Paradigm 2045- Trinity's Children Page 34

by Robert W. Ross


  Carpenter smiled awkwardly, then said, “I have fond memories of Doctor Who as well, but perhaps—” he gave the slightest nod toward the Galileo’s display panel. Linnea turned and found Damien, Misha, James, and even Coleman staring at her. All four shook their heads simultaneously and the young telepath cringed. “Sorry…” she said.

  James snickered softly. “As I was saying, you might notice that the blue line starts off going in the opposite direction. The TARDIS is us.” He winked at Linnea. “Matt Smith was my favorite Doctor. I loved how he liked to spin around all over the place. Anyway, the reason we’re seemingly going in the wrong direction, for a bit, is due to those monstrous calculations I referred to a minute or so ago. We are going to slingshot around the dark-side north pole, out past the lunar detection grid, flip, then burn like bitches toward those Chinese bastards. We’ll connect up with them there.” A glowing yellow circle highlighted the point at which the two lines intersected.

  “And they won’t see us, right?” asked Rick.

  “Hmm? Oh…no,” replied Branson, “Well, I don’t think so. It’s not like they are expecting space pirates. I don’t think anyone has ever taken hostile action on a spacecraft while in flight, have they?”

  Damien shook his head, “Not that I’m aware of. Coleman?”

  “No sir,” said the AI, “this will be the first act of space piracy in history. A fact that I’m sure Lt. Branson will have emblazoned on his curriculum vitae.” Coleman looked around the room with a hopeful expression.

  “That was very good,” offered Linnea. “Your humor algorithms are getting much better. You also did a great job of applying them properly to James’ personality.”

  Coleman beamed at the communications officer, but Branson cut short his moment, by continuing the briefing. “As I was saying, it’s highly unlikely that they will notice us. Their ship is basically a bottle rocket with a few bells and whistles. They don’t have sensors like we do and even if they did, odds are they would be pointing them forward, not back.”

  “There’s that hubris again,” lilted Damien.

  “Do you lot want me to finish or not? We have to launch in less than five minutes or I have to recalculate everything which I do not want to do. Just because I’m good at math, doesn’t mean I like math.”

  “Go on then,” said Misha, “when do I execute my part?”

  James nodded. “Right. Okay, so I will match their ship’s velocity, then flip the Gal on her back. We’ll deploy the electromagnetic grappler and basket we used in Monte Carlo. I assume everyone remembers that?”

  “I know I do,” grumbled Linnea then shot Misha a death-look.

  “That was before my time,” said Rick.

  “Don’t worry about it, Doc,” said Misha. “You won’t be part of the boarding party. That’s just Damien and me. Damien because if he gets shot, or blown into space, I think we can rebuild him, and me because, well it’s my fucking plan.”

  Damien turned to face Dr. Carpenter and said, “Basically, the Galileo will extend a pressurized magnetic corridor between it and the Chinese spacecraft. Misha will use a HID weapon to cut through their ship’s hull. We’ll board it, remove Keung and his daughter, then retreat back to the Galileo.”

  “But there will be a hole in their ship,” said Rick.

  “What’s your point?” asked Misha.

  The doctor gave her a flat expression. “My point is, unless I missed something in medical school, humans cannot survive in spaceships that have holes in them.”

  Sokolov shrugged. “Still not seeing the problem.” Everyone stared at her. “What? They would kill us in a Moscow minute. Fuck’s sake, everyone’s been trying to kill us. It’s time we start killing back.”

  Carpenter pointed at her. “Those people weren’t trying to kill us and I won’t be part of taking innocent lives.” He pointed to himself. “Doctor. Do no harm.”

  “We will patch their ship before detaching,” said Damien.

  “We will?” asked Misha. “How the hell are we—”

  “The Gal is fully equipped to repair hull damage,” said James. “There’s a whole video series I watched on how to do it. We could even program the repair bots to patch their hull, but since the bots are designed to repair Galileo, it’s probably just easier to do it manually. The important thing is that we have materials to seal everything from micro-meteor damage to a whole hatch blowout.” Branson snapped a finger toward Rick. “Bottom line, don’t you worry about a thing, Doc. By the time we’re done, that hole will be the strongest part of their ship.”

  Carpenter nodded. “Thank you, James.”

  “Don’t mention it.” The pilot looked at his hand terminal. “Okay, any other questions? No? Good. Time to light this candle. Everyone strap in. We are going to be doing a few high gravity burns and I don’t want anyone bouncing off the walls.”

  Linnea and Rick both let out a sigh of relief as Branson cut thrust. “Oh my God,” said the comms officer through gritted teeth, “that was horrible.”

  “I have to agree,” sighed Rick.

  “What was James thinking?” she asked, “It was worse than anything we’ve done before.”

  Coleman smiled down at them from the central aisle and said, “Lt. Branson executed what is colloquially referred to as a flip and burn. He neutralized our previous vectored speed and created positive velocity toward the Chinese lunar skiff, Xinhua. This resulted in approximately six times normal gravity.”

  “I didn’t like it,” said Linnea. “I think I may throw up.”

  “Put your head down, Barbie,” offered Misha, as she unbuckled from her seat. “You just need more blood in that blonde head of yours.”

  Rick watched Linnea lean forward and put her head between her knees. He looked at the AI and said, “I don’t believe either one of us will be especially good at this kind of thing any time soon. As I understand it, the FTL capable ship, this Bladerunner, will be much faster. I understand that humans have survived even 40 gees, for limited periods of time, but most people are rendered unconscious above nine.”

  “That should not be a problem, Doctor Carpenter,” said Coleman. “The Bladerunner is equipped with gravity modification technologies that will have to be retrofitted into Galileo because doing so was not a priority until after Bladerunner was completed.”

  “What’s this?” asked Branson as he floated into the cabin. “What kind of mitigating technologies?”

  The AI regarded him and smiled. “Oh, hello Lt. Branson. You are already aware of Bladerunner’s capabilities in this area.”

  The pilot frowned. “No, I’m not.”

  “Of course you are. It is just making use of the sub-light propulsion system and directing it toward the ship’s internal gravity.”

  James pinched up his face, thinking, “You mean the fusion engine? I don’t see how that could—”

  “No, the gravity well propulsion system is the one to which I’m referring. I saw that you accessed those manuals yesterday.”

  Branson laughed. “Accessed doesn’t mean understood. I just glanced at them, Coleman. That manual was chockablock full of complex engineering terms so I lost interest and stopped reading. I figured Karishma would dumb it down for me at some point.”

  “Gravity-well propulsion and environmental modifications are both based on advanced thermodynamics, Lt. Branson, I’m not sure there is a way to, as you say, dumb it down.”

  James pretended to pat the AI’s shoulder and said, “Challenge accepted, Coleman. From what I could tell, Bladerunner’s gravity well propulsion system projects a micro singularity in whatever direction is needed to, literally, pull the ship toward it. I assume the variant you mention is simply a means to generate similar gravitational forces within Bladerunner. It could be used to counter thrust or approximate Earth normal gravity while not under thrust.” He stared at the AI a second then added, “So, how’d I do?”

  Coleman blinked. “That is surprisingly accurate. I thought you said you didn’t understa
nd—”

  “Just needed some context, my lad. Context is king for intuitive folks like me. Make a note of it.” Branson turned to the rest of the crew and said, “We should intercept the Xinhua in about thirty minutes. When we do, I’m going to execute a burn to match speed. It will last about two minutes.”

  Linnea lifted her head and took a deep breath. “Will it be as bad as this last time?”

  “Worse,” said James apologetically, “I have to bleed off less velocity but need to do it more quickly. I’m guessing close to nine-gees. Maybe you’ll get lucky and pass out.” Linnea groaned. Misha shot a death-look toward Branson who raised his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. You want to blame someone, blame Sir Issac Newton. Until Karishma tosses me the keys to her physics bending wundership, I have to play the cards I’m dealt.”

  Damien motioned to Misha and asked, “Have you confirmed your breaching action?”

  She nodded. “Right after we’ve matched velocity. I’ll extend the grappler and shoot up through the tunnel. I’ve printed magnetic gloves to help ensure I can maintain a grip on the Xinhua, but it really shouldn’t be necessary. Simulation shows I can get through the hull in between forty-five and sixty-seconds. If Branson does his job right, there should be no change in pressure so the Chinese will have no warning.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, love. I’m all about no change in pressure. In fact, I’m cool as a cucumber.”

  Damien could almost see the Russian mentally count to three as he asked, “Where will we be entering? I’m concerned about their reaction time. They could have orders to kill either Keung or his daughter.”

  Misha nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m breaching us into their aft storage area, or in Barbie-speak, their trunk.”

  “So funny,” said Linnea sarcastically, “and that’s a perfect example of why there are no Russian stand up comics.”

  Damien ignored the exchange and asked, “What’s between the storage and crew areas?”

  “Well, if we are exceptionally lucky,” began Sokolov, “both Chao and his daughter will be locked up in that aft section. If they are, we just pull them into Galileo and detach.”

  James barked a laugh, “Oh please let that be the case. Can you just imagine the looks on those red bastards’ faces when they go to bring the Keungs some food only to find the place empty? We don’t have to kill them, the Chinese military will do it for us.” Richard frowned at this but said nothing.

  Misha held up a hand. “Much as I’d like to think us that lucky, it’s unlikely. There are no crash couches in the storage compartment. My best guess is that Chao will be restrained in the main crew area. There’s a pressure door that separates the two compartments. Nightmare scenario is that the pressure door is locked and I have to burn through it.”

  “How long would that take?” asked Damien.

  Misha shrugged. “Hard to know for sure, unlike the hull, Coleman couldn’t get me final specs on the pressure doors, but I’m guessing at least the same forty-five to sixty-seconds.”

  Rick furrowed his brow, “And during that minute they would see what?”

  Sokolov said, “A bloom of blue energy and, depending on their oxygen content, likely a yellow tongue of flame.”

  “I’m guessing they would notice that,” said Linnea.

  “Yes, Barbie, they would notice it,” snickered Misha. “The Chinese do not fuck around. These are not civilian cosmonauts. They are taikonauts…asian space marines. Bottom line, if I have to burn through the door, someone’s going to die. I’m just hoping it’s them and not Chao, his daughter, or us. Net-net, if the Chinese have been ordered to neutralize their prisoners, they would do so before I can get through that door.” Carpenter opened his mouth to object, but Misha waved him down. “That’s a very unlikely scenario, Doctor. Branson mentioned something earlier and I made note of it because, unlike most things he says, it was useful.” The Irishman winked at her and she sneered back, “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  “I’m just glad you’re taking note of me, love,” he said.

  “What? I’m not—” Misha ground her teeth and let out a breath. “My point is, the Chinese would not have anticipated this scenario, therefore the crew wouldn’t have been given orders to kill Keung. Absent such orders, they will likely defend their prisoners and try to kill us instead.”

  Linnea laughed, then covered her mouth. “Sorry, you just made that sound like it was a good thing.”

  Misha nodded. “It is. I’d rather them try to kill me and Damien than Keung or his daughter, especially if they try to kill Damien first.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” the android said dryly.

  “Don’t mention it. Anyway, that’s our scenario. Any questions?”

  “Just one,” said Damien, “what kind of weapons do you think they will have?”

  Misha snapped her fingers. “Shit, I forgot to mention that, didn’t I? This is another bit of good news. Since we are inaugurating the era of spaceflight hostilities, I expect their weapons to be limited. Projectile weapons poke holes in ships and that’s bad, so it’s unlikely they will even have those. Earth hasn’t developed HID particle weapons so they won’t have those either. My guess is they will have taser-like weapons which can certainly both kill and disable. That said, we should definitely have the advantage from a weapons perspective.”

  Damien nodded, then smiled at Branson and Misha. “You two have done excellent work. I will be sure and document this for Captain Omandi once we have her back. I can tell you, she’ll be gratified for both the creativity and collaboration you two have shown.”

  Sokolov managed to almost suppress her pleased expression, which soured almost immediately, as she felt James circle his arm around her shoulder.

  “I’ve always said we make a good team. It’s almost like…it’s almost like…it’s almost like we’re two peas in a pod. Isn’t that right, Misha?” The security officer glanced over at him warily and James grinned back before saying, “I’m the pea in this metaphor and would argue that I definitely do my best work when nestled inside an accommodating pod. Don’t you agree, Lieutenant?”

  Linnea frowned, “Did he just make a—”

  “Yes, of course he did,” replied Misha as she slipped from beneath Branson’s arm, and shot him a sweet smile. She patted his face and lilted “Oh Jimmy-boy…I doubt I’d even notice if your pea were inside my pod. Now go fly the ship so I can get to work.”

  Chapter 30

  Breach

  Sokolov tapped her left glove and felt her hand snap to the Xinhua’s hull as the powerful magnets activated. She released the trigger on her HID and said, “For future reference, fifty-five seconds to get through the hull.”

  “I’ll make a note of it, Lieutenant,” chuckled Damien, then added, “for the next time we breach Chinese military vessels in the vacuum of space.”

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Ready.”

  “Breach in three…two…one.” Misha pushed hard with her left arm and felt the large circle of metal move beneath her hand. She tapped off the magnet and watched as the chunk of hull floated lazily into the storage compartment. “It’s empty,” she said, and was surprised at how much relief that realization brought with it. Seconds later both she and Damien stood before a large, rectangular, pressure door. She pointed at the green indicator and whispered, “Unlocked.”

  He nodded then motioned for them to switch positions. Damien tapped his heels together and his magnetic boots engaged, snapping both feet to the deck. The android rocked back and forth, confirming the force needed to engage and disengage the mag-locks. Misha did the same. “Ready?” he asked.

  Sokolov held up one finger and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and called to mind the Xinhua’s command deck layout. Images flashed through her mind with ever increasing rapidity as she again visualized likely scenarios. Details settled into her mind, the Chinese looking up as the door swung outward. Where they might be seated. W
hat they might do. Misha replayed dozens of scenarios in the span of several heartbeats. She felt the thrill of it as a complex mix of hormones rushed throughout her body. Sokolov opened her eyes and felt the world brighten and time slow. She closed her hand into a fist and Damien heaved the door open.

  Sokolov’s mind drank in the scene as her anticipated scenarios gave way to reality. Six people occupied the command deck, four men, one woman, and a girl. Five were seated in acceleration chairs while one was either in the process of standing or sitting, Misha couldn’t tell which. It was this last man who first noticed her. His eyes widened in alarm and he opened his mouth to call out. Before he could do so, the man’s entire body became wreathed in a shimmering blue glow. He bounced off his chair and slowly twisted limply in the zero gee.

  Misha pushed off the floor and deactivated her boot’s mag-locks. She sailed upward and twisted toward what she knew to be the Xinhua’s command chair. An asian man, in his late middle years, turned from his stunned shipmate to focus on the security officer. He reached for what Misha assumed was a taser-like weapon but was unable to bring it to bear before her HID stun incapacitated him.

  Things didn’t go as well after that. Damien clomped into the command deck, and failed to reactivate one of his mag-boots properly. He spun awkwardly as one foot broke free while the other held fast. A soft popping noise filled the cabin and two metallic barbs trailing wires streaked toward the android. The Chinese woman, who had been seated at the ship's navigation console, activated her taser and Misha groaned inwardly as she saw energy race along the wires and into Damien. The android arched his back and began shuddering.

  Before Sokolov could act, Chao Keung, reached forward, straining against the straps that secured him to one of two jump seats. He grabbed the taser wires and yanked them free. Damien’s head lulled to one side in a state of semiconsciousness. Not bad, thought Misha, that shock would have completely incapacitated a normal human.

 

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