He’d been walking for fifteen minutes, having resolved to turn back after five, when he thought he saw something up ahead. The light caught it and glinted against something moving laterally.
Some type of maintenance servitor, he speculated.
When he drew level with the spot the thing had occupied he found that there was no trace of it, however, there was a doorway on his right. Though, when he tried to open it, he found that it was sealed tight and there was nothing he could do to force it to open.
Feeling frustrated and not a little disoriented, he gave the door a kick and then started back the way he’d come.
Only to find the same creature blocking his path. For all its slight stature, the creature managed to convey a sense of curiosity although Webster wasn’t entirely sure how.
It bobbed up and down on a bed of springy tendrils which shifted with the unpredictability of a cat’s tail. Webster got the clear sense that it was ready to speed away if he made any sudden moves.
“Hello,” he said.
The creature’s head started to rotate as if scanning him.
He decided to wave at it, causing the creature to sway backwards, only returning to a more upright position when it realised that he posed no threat.
Webster raised a hand to his chest.
“Alex,” he said. “My name is Alex.”
The sunflower tipped forward before leaning back and emitted a sharp, pinging sound which, within the confines of the corridor, assaulted his ears.
“Alex,” he repeated, softly.
The creature leaned in again but this time stopped and turned through 360 degrees. Then it ran up the wall and across the ceiling back the way he’d come. Eventually, it disappeared from sight.
But there was something else approaching from the far end of the corridor. Something much bigger.
“Dalbiri!” he shouted. “Eldridge? Is that you?”
But he got no reply. Slowly, the figure started to come into focus.
It was certainly the right size for the bulky scientist but he couldn’t make out any details.
Webster lowered his torch and waited for the figure to approach.
When it was about ten metres away, the figure pushed back its hood revealing Dalbiri’s face.
He looked angry.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
“What? I’ve been following that creature. Then it took off across the ceiling, heading in your direction. I’m surprised you didn’t see it.”
“Who cares about the stupid creature? My light kept cutting out. You’ve been gone hours.”
“Hours? What are you talking about?” Webster glanced down at his suit’s chronometer.
According to that, he’d been gone for three hours and twenty-six minutes.
But how could that be?
“Did you find anything else?” Webster asked.
“I did. Though you’re not going to believe it.”
CHAPTER 2
Winterson was sitting upright in his hospital bed with Kerrigan at his side. Vincenzi sat in the far corner, poring over the fleet’s various status reports.
It had been a rough couple of days for the admiral. The previous day, they’d operated in an attempt to save his damaged eye but after trying everything, the medical staff had had no choice but to remove it. He’d been due to have the first of many skin grafts the day after but Executive assistant Commander Vincenzi had managed to persuade them to postpone it. There was still too much that Winterson needed to do if they were ever going to get the fleet organised.
Their priority at the moment was to establish control of the ghost ship which was currently orbiting Tigris. They’d celebrated when the thing had first made it into orbit but matters had since taken an unfortunate turn. After the Da’al ship had opened fire the ghost ship had not hesitated to return fire destroying both the Da’al ship and everyone on board. For all that the Da’al were seen as the enemy, the sight of an entire ship effectively being vaporised had proved to be a sobering one for all who witnessed it.
Winterson’s initial thrill at seeing the Da’al threat neutralised was quickly eclipsed by the thought that this ghost ship now represented a potential threat to all the remaining Confederation ships. And the fact that they could not contact whoever was in charge of the other ship only added to that sense of unease. Things moved quickly when you were on the field of battle but they were moving so fast now that Winterson’s head was beginning to spin. What had started as a simple salvage operation had quickly become more and more complicated. And there’d been a couple of times in the last few days when he’d been tempted to just give in to the tiredness and rest up.
Kerrigan, the acting CO on board The Naked Spur, had put through a communication request to the Montezuma, the salvage vessel tasked with lifting and securing the ghost ship. But that had been twenty minutes ago and they were still waiting on a reply. Normally, these types of exchanges would take place from the bridge but it had been transferred to this hospital room so that Winterson could be involved. Vincenzi had been concerned that Kerrigan might lodge an objection but, in the end, he’d opted to indulge the wishes of his superior officer.
I bet he can’t wait for my skin graft program to get under way, Winterson reflected. That should be enough to keep me out of his hair for the short term.
That way Kerrigan could focus on what he really wanted to do. To track down and destroy the two Da’al ships which had survived their previous engagement: Thor and Tyr. Not that Winterson thought he had much hope of pulling it off.
Kerrigan appeared tired and irritable. He’d doubtless had precious little sleep in the last few days and made no secret of the fact that he felt he had better things to do.
There was a sense of awkwardness in the air as they waited for a reply from the Montezuma, with none of the men wanting to indulge in small talk. Winterson had made it very clear earlier that he had little faith in Kerrigan’s skills as captain and, as a direct result, Kerrigan had adopted a bluff no-nonsense approach to their interactions. Knowing that he couldn’t please his superior, he had opted not to try. It made for an interesting work dynamic, though so far they’d managed to avoid any direct show of enmity.
So, it was with a sense of relief that Winterson recognised Tomas Kapinsky’s face on the big screen. And, after the usual pleasantries, they got straight down to business.
“Obviously, we’ve experienced a few setbacks,” Winterson was saying. “Any idea how quickly you can have everything up and running again?”
Kapinsky seemed to have visibly aged since Winterson had last spoken to him with visible signs of grey in his hair. He scrunched up his face as he considered Winterson’s request.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, admiral, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Is it a mechanical problem? Are you going to have to re-establish the salvage lines manually?”
That would no doubt prove costly as any extra vehicular activity was guaranteed to slow everything down. But they might be left with no other option as the mass of cables which had originally secured the ghost ship had all but been destroyed when the Da’al ship had opened fire.
“We have no plans to re-establish the salvage lines at all, admiral. We’re just not prepared to take the risk.”
Winterson took a moment to smooth down his bed sheets. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Vincenzi who had cautioned him about using civilian contractors. His pain killers were starting to wear off and his eye socket was beginning to throb mercilessly.
“Let’s get this clear,” he said. “Are you refusing to complete this part of the contract, Captain Kapinsky?”
“You can call it what you like, admiral. But my people aren’t going anywhere near that thing.”
“Then how do you propose to get it back to Blackthorn? I’m sorry, captain, am I missing something here?”
“Admiral, did you not see what that thing did to the Heimdall? You assured me that this was
a simple salvage job. There was no mention of the ship’s systems still being active, let alone posing an active threat towards us.”
“I’ve seen the footage. It was as much as a surprise to me as it was to you.”
“I doubt that very much. Look, we came to pick up a derelict ship,” Kapinsky’s tone was suddenly accusatory. “We didn’t expect to be going head-to-head with a fully operational warship.”
“Captain,” Winterson said, sensing that he was starting to lose the initiative. “I can see that this has rattled you to some extent, but I can assure you that what you experienced was an unfortunate weapons discharge, nothing more. It sometimes happens with ships which are due to be de-commissioned. You have my word that this ship poses no further threat to you or your crew.”
Winterson ignored Vincenzi who had risen from his seat and turned instead to Kerrigan. “Captain, do you concur?”
Kerrigan, although clearly surprised to be consulted in this way, didn’t hesitate.
“Admiral Winterson is absolutely right. Obviously, we need to ensure that the appropriate measures are put in place to ensure your crew’s safety, but I don’t see there being any further problems.”
In a rare show of approval, Winterson tipped his head in Kerrigan’s direction.
“Are you guys nuts?” Kapinsky said. “That ship is a disaster waiting to happen. Perhaps you didn’t pick up on this but as soon as that ship came under attack, it didn’t hesitate. It locked its primary weapon on the Heimdall and didn’t let up until it had been completely vaporised. This ship poses a credible threat to everyone in the vicinity, admiral. And, in light of that, it would be remiss of me to continue with this operation. I’m sorry, admiral, but you can count me out.”
“But listen to yourself,” Kerrigan went on. “What you said is true: the ghost ship only responded when it came under attack. All you’re doing is offering to tow them to the nearest station. You pose no threat to them.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. I just thought, as a courtesy, I’d let you know that we’ll be taking no further part in this operation.”
Winterson struggled to contain his anger. As well as feeling unwell, he simply wasn’t used to being undermined in this way. It didn’t matter that Kapinsky was a civilian, he just needed him to get the job done. And nothing would be achieved if he lost his composure now.
“Captain, I’d just like you to stop for a moment. I think that this is a prime opportunity for everyone to step back and re-consider our options. You have so far managed to pull off two impressive coups. Firstly you managed to get that ship up into orbit and you did it while keeping it in one piece. Right now, you and your team should be congratulating yourselves not turning your back on the most lucrative job of your careers. Because, believe me, captain, that’s exactly what you would be doing.”
The confusion was evident in the young man’s face. He’d made his decision in the immediate aftermath of the Heimdall’s destruction and now that things had started to calm down again Winterson wanted to give him the opportunity to reflect on that. Kapinsky wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t harbored some reservations about what it was that he was proposing.
Winterson wouldn’t have been surprised if Kapinsky had asked for the opportunity to consult with his senior crew, but he apparently hadn’t done that - no doubt fearful of what their response might be. This was an awful lot of money that they were looking at. Such a sum was liable to cloud the judgement of even the most level-headed of operators.
Winterson briefly considered upping his original offer but decided against it. It was imperative that he avoided seeming desperate, though without the operational capability that Kapinsky’s ship offered there was precious little chance of them recovering the ship otherwise.
In the end, Kapinsky came to a decision on his own.
“Okay, admiral, I can appreciate what you’re saying but I’m afraid that my answer hasn’t changed. It’s still ‘no.’”
“And you’re sure I can’t change your mind,” Winterson managed through gritted teeth.
“I’m afraid not,” he looked first to Kerrigan and then back to Winterson. “I’d like to wish you well in terms of your recovery, admiral, but I feel that I’d be doing a disservice to my crew if we were to press ahead with this. I hope that you can get this resolved but I’m afraid that the Montezuma can play no further part in it.”
And with that, Kaminsky ended the communication.
Kerrigan stepped towards the monitor, deep in thought.
Then he turned back to Winterson. “What are we going to do, sir?” We can’t let an opportunity like this just slip through our fingers.”
“I’m not sure,” Winterson’s eye socket was starting to throb. “But it looks like we may have to consider another angle as far as Captain Kapinsky is concerned.”
“He has a point, though. If that ship can turn on one of its own, what’s it going to do to one of us?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. ’One of its own’? Where did you get that idea from?”
It was Kerrigan’s turn to look confused. “The ghost ship. It opened fire on that other Da’al ship. We all saw it!”
Winterson snorted. “Try and keep up, Kerrigan. That ghost ship is no more a Da’al vessel than ours is. This is a completely different technology we’re dealing with here, invariably much more advanced than anything the Da’al has to offer. That’s why they’re so desperate to get their hands on it.”
Winterson enjoyed watching Kerrigan’s face as he slowly processed this new information.
“So, what do we do in the meantime?”
“We consider our options. Kapinsky might control the Montezuma but he’s not the only one with skin in the game.”
“Are you talking about the Russian woman?”
“She’s Chechen. Not that that matters. Now what was her name again?”
“Saratova,” Vincenzi said, striding over to the foot of the bed.
“Well, she’s clearly made a big impression on you. Establish a link with her as soon as possible. Let’s see what she’s got to say for herself.”
“Aye, sir.”
*
Faulkner was growing impatient. He checked the various plots and trajectories but nothing had changed. They’d been pursuing the Loki for eighteen hours now and every time he thought that the Renheim was gaining on her the Da’al ship would produce another burst of speed.
“How is she still managing to evade us?”
“That’s a simple one, sir,” Leyton at the helm said. “This is fly or die as far as they’re concerned. They’re not holding anything back for a return journey. They’re fully committed to this and, if that means burning through half their fuel in order to out-run us then they’ll be happy to do it.”
“Which puts even more pressure on us to keep up. How long before we’re within weapons range?”
“Not long now, sir,” Schwartz reassured him. “We just have to hold our nerve.”
“Any news on our acceleration levels?”
“I’ve spoken with Mr Khan, the chief engineer. He’s going to get back to me when he’s had time to look at our projections.”
Faulkner leaned over in his seat. “What’s he like, this Khan fellow?”
Faulkner had been introduced to him at the welcoming party but had formed only a fleeting impression of him. He was of Indian heritage and seemed to be rather smartly turned out for an engineer, but that was it.
“He can be quite … well, arrogant at times,” Schwartz said. “But every once in a while, he comes up with something really good.”
“Good. Well, if he’s so bright he’s had more than enough time to make sense of this little lot. I’ll speak with him now.”
Schwartz’s mouth pulled tight but she did as she was asked, putting a connection through to engineering.
“Khan here, sir.”
“Mister Khan, good day to you. We’re looking at our options here and the XO said you might have some ideas.”
“That all depends what you had in mind, sir.”
Faulkner couldn’t decide whether the man was being insubordinate or was just very guarded.
“We need to close with the Loki as soon as possible. I don’t want to give her the chance of making a break for it. If we lose her now, we’re unlikely to get another chance at this.”
“We are currently operating at a level of maximum efficiency, sir.”
Faulkner had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. There was no sense of urgency with some people.
“This is not about personal preferences, Mr Khan, this is about getting the job done. Now, what can you give me?”
“I’m happy to push things to a hundred and five percent. Perhaps even a hundred and ten for a short while but we’d be burning up an awful lot of fuel doing it that way.”
“That may be so, but I feel that we have precious little alternative. I’d like a hundred and ten percent burn for thirty minutes.”
“That would significantly deplete our fuel reserves, sir.”
“I’m aware of that, Chief. Can you give it to me or not?”
Khan didn’t seem to know what to say, so he let his silence speak for him.
“Yes or no, chief?”
“That would be a reluctant ‘yes’, sir.”
“Good man!” Faulkner cut the link and turned to Schwartz. “Can you let me know - factoring everything in, mind - how long we’ve got before we can launch missiles?”
“I’ll get right onto it.”
Faulkner sat back in the command chair and tried to organise his thoughts. He’d hoped to catch a moment with Schwartz alone so that he could apologise to her about what had happened earlier. He was relieved that she’d decided to stay but wanted to avoid any ongoing awkwardness by addressing the issue as soon as possible. Regardless, if she had harbored any animosity towards him he’d seen no sign of it so far.
Cry of War: A Military Space Adventure Series Page 4
