He rejoined his waiting recruits at an air lock facing the target, nineteen men and women who had volunteered for the boarding operation despite none of them having even worn a survival suit before, let alone space jumped. “There are two things to remember,” Rob explained. “One is to keep your eyes on where you want to go. Your suits don’t have thrust packs like I have because the Wingnut only has two and wouldn’t sell us both. But that’s fine. For training, you’ve all got tethers tying you to the ship, so you can’t get lost. Before you jump, keep your eyes fixed on the target and push toward it. Your body will automatically go where your eyes are looking. It’s that easy.” And that hard, because as the old saying went, everything was simple in space, but all of the simple things were difficult.
“The second thing is to remember that you won’t slow down,” Rob continued. “Whatever speed you jump off at is the speed you’ll be going when you reach your target. You’ll instinctively want to push off hard because that’s how we learn to jump on planets. That’s a bad idea. Jump off hard in space, and you hit hard when you get to the other ship. Think about if you’re on a planet and you’re going to jump straight at a wall right in front of you, how hard are you going to want to jump to be sure you can catch yourself on the wall without hurting yourself?”
“How strong are the tethers?” one of the volunteers asked, unable to keep the nervousness from his voice.
“You can’t break them,” Rob said. “You’d need ten times your mass moving at a dozen times the velocity any human could manage using their own muscles. Even if you jump too fast and get hauled up hard at the end of your tether, the only thing that will hurt is your pride. I’ll go first, with the thrust pack I’m wearing turned off, so you can see how it goes.” He paused. “One other thing. Some people have trouble out in space, especially close to a planet. If you get out there and feel yourself panicking, lock your eyes on the Wingnut and keep them there. I’ll pull you in, and you’ll be fine.”
He did a textbook jump from training because that was the only way he knew how. Rob didn’t think his volunteers would be happy knowing that Rob himself had only made two space jumps prior to this, so he hadn’t brought that up.
Fortunately, he got it all right, with a smooth, easy jump off, flying through space, eyes on the target as it quickly got closer, then the tether reaching its end and hauling him up just short of the target. He pulled himself back inside the Wingnut’s air lock.
Val Tanaka went next. She flew out smoothly, but at the end as her body swung around on the tether, she began flailing her arms and legs, her breathing suddenly harsh and heavy. Rob pulled her in quickly, cursing inside. Why did Val have to be one of those who panicked in open space? Not only would he lose his second-in-command, but the others would be unnerved by her experience.
“It’s fine, you’re fine,” Rob said reassuringly as he steadied Val inside the air lock. She looked at him, her breathing slowing. Rob could feel everyone else staring at him as he tried to come up with an inspirational speech to get them past this.
Before he could say anything else, Val Tanaka turned, positioned herself, and jumped for the target again.
Once more she flew directly to the target, but this time when the tether halted her she hung calmly as Rob pulled her tether back in.
He could see through the visor of the survival suit helmet that her eyes were closed until the moment she touched the side of the air lock again. She grinned at him, the gesture tight with tension, her breathing still fast. “Piece of cake.”
“How did you do that?” Rob demanded.
“I didn’t give the fear time to get settled,” Val replied. “Got back on the horse, you know?” She turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
Only one of the others panicked, but they felt obligated by Val’s example to try again and managed it the second time. Rob stood back watching as everyone made additional jumps.
Val joined him, standing side by side. A tiny symbol appeared before Rob’s eyes, telling him that she was calling on a different circuit than the one being used to speak with the other volunteers. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering what you were afraid of, sailor,” she replied.
He paused, gazing out at the star-spangled dark of space. “What makes you ask that?”
“You’ve hesitated a few times when talking about this plan, and out here you’ve sounded a little less confident than you should and a little too much like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“Do you think any of the others have picked up on that?”
“If they haven’t already, some of the others will. So what’s the story?”
Rob grimaced. “When I was with Alfar’s fleet, I only did one serious boarding practice exercise. As an ensign, still new, but I’d gone through other training. And I failed. The scorers took me apart.”
He was surprised to hear Val chuckle softly. “Didn’t you have time to learn that there are two kinds of graded drills? The first kind are the ones where the grades directly affect the promotions and awards for the top bosses, whoever they are. People always get passing scores on those. Dead people could get passing scores on them. Because the bosses want to look good, you know? The second kind are the ones designed to show you how important the scorers are. People always fail those and get torn apart for all the things they did wrong.”
Rob turned his head to look at her. “What about graded drills designed to give you experience doing it and identify critical errors?”
“In a perfect universe, that’s how they’d all work. But in a universe run by humans, drills over time often become self-licking ice cream cones that justify whatever purpose those in charge of the drills are looking for.” Val looked back at him with a mocking grin. “Were there other graded drills along with that one you failed? How’d the others go?”
“We failed all of them,” Rob said. “You’re saying that was the point?”
“That was the point, and my point is that it doesn’t matter. You’re still the one guy with us who knows how to do this and has done it enough to fail at it once.”
“Thanks, Val.”
“Now, you gonna get out there and lead like you know what you’re doing?”
“I can fake it,” Rob said.
• • •
He came out of a tired sleep that night when someone grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, Lieutenant!”
Rob blinked sleep from his eyes, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing the other two men still sharing his cabin. “What’s up, Ninja?”
“We’re not blowing up the Bucket’s power core. Can’t be done,” she whispered.
“Their firewalls are that good?”
“Pfft!” Ninja said. “Their firewalls are as easy to get through as wet cardboard. But that doesn’t help us with the power core because they’re running it on manual.”
“What?” Rob stared at her. “How can you tell?”
“Because the auto controls are all disabled. Probably nonfunctional.”
Rob sat up carefully, running one hand through his hair as he thought. “I didn’t know you could run a power core on manual.”
“I asked Torres. He said you could, but he wouldn’t,” Ninja said. “It’s possible, but inefficient as hell. And if something goes seriously wrong, whoever they’ve got nursemaiding the core had better react fast and do the right things.”
He nodded, blowing out an exasperated breath. “I’ll tell the council they can stop debating whether or not to blow up the Bucket. Either we board it, or we pay up. You can get into the right systems so we can board that ship, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Easy.” She glanced at him, then at his bed. “I wouldn’t mind relaxing a little right now if you’re in the mood.”
Rob sighed again. “Ninja, a couple of days ago I might have taken you up on that. But, at the moment, I’m your boss. It wouldn’t be
right.”
Ninja shook her head. “Why do I always go after guys who follow the rules?”
“Opposites attract?”
“That might be it.” She paused, looking down. “So, you’re going to do the hero thing? Jumping over to the Bucket with a knife in your teeth?”
“Metaphorically, yeah,” Rob said. “I think the council is leaning heavily toward not just giving in to extortion.”
“Try not to get hurt, okay?”
He gave her a surprised look. “I didn’t know you cared, Ninja.”
“Well, duh. Do you think I make an offer like that to just anybody?”
She left before he could say anything else.
Rob stared after her, startled that he had without realizing kept himself from thinking about Ninja that way. Probably because their first interactions back at Alfar had been him as an officer and her as an enlisted. And despite his dislike of Alfar’s fixed way of thinking, he must have taken on some of that, not considering the possibility that circumstances had changed and so could how he thought about her. He had always liked Ninja, even when he wouldn’t allow himself to like her more than he should. Maybe now . . . ?
If he didn’t get himself killed trying to capture that Bucket.
He couldn’t do anything about Ninja at the moment. All he could do was lie there in the dark, thinking of all the things that could go wrong when a barely experienced former junior officer led a bunch of inexperienced and poorly armed volunteers against a warship. And thinking of what would very likely happen if he didn’t lead that mission.
Thanks to the distant protection of Old Earth, Alfar’s small navy hadn’t had much in the way of heroic traditions born of war. None, actually. But there had been other causes for sacrifice. Like the young sailor on Rob’s ship whose mother had died a decade earlier on an asteroid habitat with failing life support because she gave her oxygen recycler unit to a child who would otherwise have died instead. “She left me a message,” the sailor had told Rob. “She said she couldn’t just stand by and let someone else die. Not if she could do something; because that kid might have been me, and she’d have wanted someone else to save me.”
“Do you ever wish she hadn’t?” Rob had asked.
“Every day. And every day I wonder how she would have been able to live with doing that. She made her choice, sir. That’s all any of us can do, right? Try to make a choice we can live with.”
The next morning, the council gave him his orders to try to capture that ship. He could have begged off, could have found numerous excuses not to lead such a risky effort, but instead Rob Geary saluted and said he would do his best.
Chapter 2
A day and a half later, Rob waited with the rest of his optimistically named boarding party in one of the Wingnut’s main air locks. The air lock had already been cleared of atmosphere, but the outer hatch remained closed to prevent giving warning to the Bucket, which was now on final approach to its intercept of Wingnut’s orbit. The demands for protection money had been repeated twice, and each time the council had responded with references to space law and promises to report the incident to Old Earth. The crew of the Bucket hadn’t seemed the least bit impressed by either argument, instead repeating their own “concerns” that if the colony didn’t pay up “it would be unprotected against aggression.”
As always, Rob found waiting harder than actually doing something. The survival suit he was wearing felt too flimsy for a combat mission because it was. Strong enough to protect humans from the hazards of space and cheap enough to serve as a space equivalent of a life jacket at sea, the suit wouldn’t stop any weapon. He tugged at one armpit, the suit feeling even more one-size-fits-all than normal. The air being recycled through the suit was fine according to the readouts, so Rob concentrated on controlling his breathing and ignoring a persistent worry that it smelled off.
He looked at the men and women who would follow him aboard the enemy ship. They were gazing back at him, their expressions hard to see but their body postures tense. At least during his time in Alfar’s fleet he had learned how to give a pep talk before a difficult task. Keep it simple, keep it short. “The rest of the people in this colony are counting on us to stop these guys. We can do this. I have every confidence in all of you. The people on that warship won’t be expecting trouble, so they’re going to be very surprised when we give them more trouble than they imagined possible. Stay cool and stay sharp, and we’ll get the job done.”
“Lieutenant Geary.”
He switched to the comm channel for private communications. “Here.”
“This is Council Member Leigh Camagan. I wanted to inform you that under pressure the council has finally agreed on a name for this colony. It will have to be confirmed by a vote of all citizens of the colony, but I have no doubt of the outcome. Let those you are leading know that they are now defending the people of the Glenlyon Star System. Good luck.”
“Thank you.” Rob passed the news on to the rest of the boarding party, all of whom seemed happy to be defending newly named Glenlyon.
“How does it look, Ninja?” he asked over the coordination circuit.
“Smooth,” she replied, her voice confident and cheerful. “I’ve got control of every automated system on that ship, but I inserted a shell that makes it look to the crew like everything is normal. They’ll find out different in about one minute, but even then they’ll think the problem is confined to their maneuvering systems.”
“Sensors are hacked?”
“Absolutely! All they’ll see is the Wingnut looking like it was a couple of minutes ago, hatches sealed and nobody doing nothing.”
Rob gave the rest of the boarding party a thumbs-up. “We’ve got effective control of the Bucket’s systems. Ninja is about to order the Bucket to brake velocity and come to a stop relative to us. That will finally alert the crew of that ship that something is wrong, but their sensors have been hacked, so they won’t see this air lock hatch opening and their displays won’t tell them that their ship is dropping its shields. They’ll be focused on trying to figure out what happened to their ship’s maneuvering systems while we get aboard and get down to business.” I hope, he added to himself.
“Ninja accessed the crew files to confirm there are twenty-three of them aboard that Bucket,” Val Tanaka reminded the others. “There are twenty of us. But almost all of their crew will be in small groups at duty stations, so we can overwhelm them at each spot. Everybody double-check your shockers and make sure the safeties are engaged until we reach the other ship and you’re told to ready them.”
“Once we get control of the bridge and the power core, we’ve won,” Rob added as the air lock’s outer hatch swung open.
Buccaneer Class cutters were a lot smaller than the Wingnut, only about one hundred twenty meters from bow to stern, and the warship had been coming in fast for an intimidating firing run. It was still far enough off that Rob could only spot it because of the flare from the main propulsion unit, which was facing toward Wingnut as the warship braked velocity to engagement speed so the Bucket could threaten to fire on Wingnut or one of the colony shuttles, or put a precise shot into part of the Wingnut to encourage the colony to pay up before more damage was inflicted.
Any moment now, the crew of the Bucket would realize that something was wrong, as their main propulsion kept going past when it should have shut off, and the warship kept slowing until it came to a stop relative to the Wingnut.
“Their sensors are going to tell them that they’re stopped fifty kilometers away from the Wingnut,” Ninja reported gleefully.
“How close can you really get them to us?”
“You asked for one hundred meters, and you’re getting one hundred meters.”
“Have you maneuvered ships before, Ninja?”
“In simulators. I’m using the Bucket’s own maneuvering systems to do this, though. Don’t worry! I don
’t want anything happening to you!”
It was a bit comforting to realize that Ninja really did like him and had extra motivation to get everything right as a result, but Rob felt his breathing speeding up and his heart racing as the start of the attack approached. He concentrated on controlling both despite the memories of that failed drill when he was an ensign filling his mind. He was facing an actual combat situation for the first time, something else that Val Tanaka had advised him not to share with the rest of the boarding party. Feeling fear of both failure and of personal injury or death, Rob hoped that he could power through the fear and make the right decisions at the right times.
Because these others were counting on him.
The Bucket came sliding in along a gentle arc, matching the orbit of Wingnut and coming to a stop relative to the other. Both spaceships were now actually orbiting the planet beneath them at about seven kilometers per second, fast on a planet but a snail’s pace in space, and since both were going exactly the same direction at the same speed they appeared to each other to be unmoving.
Ninja had done exactly as promised, directing the Bucket’s maneuvering systems to position the warship hanging in space about one hundred meters from where Rob waited. This close, the hull of the Bucket almost filled the view of space from the air lock hatch. Unlike the boxy shapes of large cargo ships, warships more closely resembled oceangoing predators. The chunky Buccaneers, though, looked less like sharks or barracudas than they did bloated trout, one of the reasons why they had been nicknamed Buckets.
“The Bucket’s door is open!” Ninja announced. “Mind the gap!”
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