Far Space Page 5

  “Looks like our friends out there took long shots at everyone in sight,” Pearl noted.

  “Two ESA frigates are broadcasting emergency beacons!” Reeves said.

  Yates nodded. The ESA now served as the military space arm of the EU. Their rules of engagement were even more convoluted than those guiding US military spacecraft. They had not even had their defensive weapons powered up. Easy prey for an attacker.

  “We have missiles inbound,” Mitchell said. “More rail gun rounds in fifteen seconds.”

  “Initiate auto-combat sequence Bravo-6,” Yates ordered.

  “Bravo-6,” Mitchell acknowledged, tapping a string of commands on his keypad.

  “Crud,” Pearl muttered. He yanked on his harness cinch straps and grabbed the arms of his seat. “Crud, crud, crud.”

  “At your pleasure, sir,” Mitchell prompted.

  “Lord, please don’t let us screw up,” Yates said before acknowledging the command with a single keystroke.

  Deep in the hardened core of the Century-Class vessel, the heart of a warrior lay in wait for this command to bring it to life. The heavily shielded computer system, dubbed the Offensive Combat System, or OCS, readied by Mitchell’s preparatory command, had sent out electronic feelers throughout the vessel. OCS read power levels, weapons status, thruster and fuel availability, and nav data. The automated defense system devoured the latest sensor data from the radar, laser, and optical inputs, as well as the feeds picked up by the antenna nets embedded in the outer armor. It tapped into information from every satellite the US controlled and some it did not. The warrior’s time had come.

  At Yates command, the OCS took control of the ship. In the age of powerful laser weapons and hyper-velocity projectiles, human-in-the-loop defensive systems had become obsolete – ineffective due to the time lapses between registering a threat and taking the appropriate counter-action. High speed computers cut response times to nanoseconds and also avoided another problem commonly encountered with human operators; hesitation.

  Yates had barely brushed the ‘Enter’ tab on his keypad when Schriever lurched into a gut-wrenching rapid roll and pitch maneuver. The ship groaned and shuddered so much he was sure they had taken a hit. The dreaded thought hit him; he had been too late in letting the OCS take over. When the ship shuddered into a slower roll then wild yaw, he let out his breath, relieved to still be in one piece. For better or worse the lightning fast reflexes of the Schriever had taken over.

  “DLS has fired fourteen times,” Mitchell said.

  Yates nodded. The Defensive Laser System, now under the control of OCS was engaging incoming missiles and rail-gun slugs. The ship rocked moments later, hit by vaporized metal and broken missile parts.

  “No damage,” Reeves shouted, straining forward in his seat harness. “Armor is good!”

  “More incoming,” Mitchell said.

  “Great,” Pearl muttered.

  “Look for a chance to engage!” Yates shouted. He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard as the OCS accelerated the roll rate and pitched end-for-end. Yates hoped the move was meant to bring the rail guns, embedded in line with the spine of the ship, to bear on their attacker.

  “One clean shot, God,” Yates muttered, trying to focus on the displays at his station. “Just one clean shot.”

  Ballard Space Elevator

  Earth Space

  Ian stared at the suit in his hands for a moment. He realized if his hunch about the approaching alien ships was wrong, he was going to be in quite an embarrassing situation. He mentally tallied the actions he had taken which could come back to haunt him; he had leapt to conclusions about the intent of the alien invaders, dragged a cute, but nearly complete stranger down to a secluded compartment, broken the seal on an emergency locker despite the dire warnings against doing such a thing, and was about to suit up in an environmental suit specifically designed for emergency egress even though there was not yet any damage to the elevator tether, station, or car.

  I will never live this down, Ian thought. A long list of possible nicknames his unit was bound to tag him with scrolled through his mind with ‘Fool’ or ‘Jumper’ near the top. ‘Fool’ because that was how he was starting to feel. ‘Jumper’ because he had assumed something about the aliens, was getting ready to egress from the elevator car, and someone was bound to assume he had ulterior motives with the girl.

  Ian looked from the seal on the locker, now ripped down the tear-seam, to the suit in his hands, to Jennifer, who was staring back at him. She would think he was an idiot if they ended up not needing the suits.

  I’ve already painted myself into a pretty good corner, Ian thought, might as well put on the dunce’s cap.

  But, if these suits saved their necks, if his actions proved to be prescient, Ian knew of two likely outcomes. If the elevator were attacked directly, he, Jennifer, and the rest of those on board would probably never know what hit them. It would not matter if they had suits on or not. On the other hand, an attack further up the line might give them the time needed to escape. The suits would ensure Jennifer had a shot at survival.

  Two scenarios, only one with an outcome Ian could control. His face split into a wide grin.

  Jennifer could not help smiling back. “What?”

  “Just thinking,” Ian responded, noting Jennifer had a dimple on her left cheek and just about the most perfect teeth he had ever seen. He tossed the emergency suit pack in his hands to her and broke the seal on a second locker. Reaching for the egress pack inside, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

  If the EERS suits saved their lives, Ian would automatically ascend to the heady heights of Mt. Olympus where gods and heroes dwelt. He would be a fool for ignoring his instinct.

  Ian ripped the bag open.

  USS Bernard Schriever

  Earth Space

  “Hull sensors are registering multiple high energy events,” Mitchell grunted as the ship launched itself into yet another high-gee maneuver. The Offensive Combat System sensed the laser events and was reacting in a manner it calculated would give the Shriever the most probable chance of survival.

  “Damage?” Yates managed to say past chattering teeth. Yates tensed his body to keep the blood from draining from his head during the ship’s gyrations.

  “Laser hit on the engine section,” Mitchell reported. “The hull plates seem to have shrugged it off.”

  “Didn’t feel like shrugging to me,” Reeves said, “it felt more like we were getting…”

  “Hold up there, son!” Pearl called. He caressed the top of the engineering console. “Don’t listen to the miscreant, honey. You just keep doing your thing.”

  “More energy events,” Mitchell reported, his hands flying over his control board. “OCS is reporting targeting pings.”

  “Got it,” Yates said, taking in his master display. Red circles high-lighted the projected points of impact. Yates barely had time to register the full board status before the OCS increased thrust and altered the roll and pitch rates. “The plating will hold.”

  The carbon-nanotube-reinforced add-on armor pieces were ugly but functional. The overlapping sections were designed to burn away under the onslaught of the laser weapons, deflect kinetic rounds, and detonate proximity-fuse weapons away from the pressure hull or other critical equipment. Yates knew the armor alone was not enough to stop everything. The survival of a space combat vessel depended on a system such as the OCS putting the spacecraft in a location and attitude the adversary had not expected. Wedded together, the ship’s exoskeleton and warrior soul reduced the effectiveness of any weapons employed against the Schriever. Hopefully, Yates thought as his vessel shuddered under the fresh onslaught.

  “Keep it together, baby,” Pearl grunted. He clutched the sides of his console to keep his face centered over the power systems display. “Keep it together.”

  Bullard Space Elevator

  Earth Space

  Ian pulled the egress suit over his legs and was working on his left arm wh
en the elevator shuddered violently.

  “What was that?” Jennifer said, eyeing the ceiling of the compartment as if she could see through the top of the elevator and along the tether to the source of the disturbance.

  “For one thing we’ve stopped,” Ian said as he began rising off the floor. He managed to grab a handhold. “The car’s movement was pulling everything to the earth-side of the car.”

  “Well, this is certainly going to make things interesting,” Jennifer said, struggling to pull on the suit while floating above the floor. Instead of getting her leg into the suit, she sent herself into a spin.

  Ian zipped up his suit and stretched out from his handhold. “Kick off in my direction!”

  Jennifer, all flailing arms and legs, grunted in response. She made contact with a ceiling panel but was thrown off as her toe caught in the tangle of the suit hanging from her left leg. She muttered a few choice curses as she spun in Ian’s general direction.

  “Beautiful,” Ian said, reaching as far as possible with his free hand. He snagged a handful of Jennifer’s shirt and pulled her close.

  “Thanks,” Jennifer breathed, wrapping an arm around Ian’s shoulder.

  They were thrown against the wall as the elevator car pitched suddenly. Ian tightened his grip.

  “Don’t mention it,” Ian said when the shuddering stopped. He leaned back to take in Jennifer’s incomplete state of dress. “Let’s get you suited up.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jennifer said.

  Halfway through zipping up the front of Jennifer’s suit, Ian stopped and cocked his head toward the upper decks.

  “I will need that closed you know,” Jennifer said, grinning.

  “You hear that?” Ian whispered.

  Jennifer’s smile faltered. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to one side. After a moment, she whispered, “Yeah, it’s…I don’t know how to describe it…wonderful…”

  Ian nodded dumbly in agreement. The sound was unlike anything he had ever heard before.

  A voiceless song filled the cabin, rising from a weak strain until it became a mighty symphony. The beautiful, soaring rhapsody grew stronger and more complex, an indescribable mix building to an impossible climax.

  All around Ian and Jennifer equipment and wall panels began to rattle violently.

  “High resonance vibrations,” Jennifer shouted to be heard over the rising cacophony.

  “What’s causing it?” Ian shouted, straining to maintain his grip on the wall-mounted handhold and Jennifer. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the truth hit him.

  “The cable’s gonna snap!” Ian shouted.

  The room became a blur as the vibrations built to nearly intolerable levels.

  “The tether shouldn’t transmit at these frequencies!” Jennifer shouted back, her voice shaking uncontrollably as she clutched the rung beside Ian.

  With a final shudder and sideways lurch of the elevator car, the vibrations mercifully ceased.

  Ian and Jennifer were left hanging in the silence staring at each other.

  “Crap,” Ian muttered. He finished zipping up Jennifer’s suit and quickly sealed his suit. As he checked Jennifer’s seals again, he said, “Get your helmet on.”

  “How long?” Jennifer asked, her eyes wide.

  “Not sure,” Ian said. “We aren’t very high up the tether though. Where’s your helmet.”

  “Reentry,” Jennifer mumbled, smoothing her braid absently. “I just figured we’d suit up, be set if something really went wrong, maybe do a little space walk…I don’t want to burn up…” She met Ian’s gaze, her dark eyes wide.

  Ian grabbed Jennifer’s shoulders and pulled her close so he was staring into her eyes. He put on a winning grin and said, “Hey, don’t worry. You’ve got me, right?”

  Jennifer bit her lip and nodded.

  “But you will need a helmet.”

  “Oh,” Jennifer said, her cheeks reddening. “It was here...” She patted the clasp at her waist where the helmet would normally hang.

  Ian spotted the wayward helmet spinning slowly in place on the far side of the room. “Stay put.” He kicked off and sailed across the airlock compartment, making it look effortless thanks to his zero-gee training from the US Space Corps.

  “You may not be very high up the elevator,” Ian muttered under his breath as he considered their situation. “But it’s still a heck of a long way down.” Glancing back at Jennifer who was staring after him, Ian added, “Lord, it’s time for one of those miracles of yours.”

  USS Bernard Schriever

  Earth Space

  “One of the enemy ships has broken off and is engaging the LeMay,” Maytree reported.

  “Go get ‘em, Hale,” Yates replied, thinking of his fellow commander. The USS LeMay was the first Block 40 Century-Class Orbital Patrol Spacecraft. Basically a stretch version of the Block 20 Centuries, like the Schriever, the 40’s incorporated the 30’s improved offensive weapons including more powerful rail guns, upgraded lasers and additional armor. LeMay also packed a surprise punch with three space fighters housed in berths new to the patrol class design. If anyone had a chance of successfully engaging the new threat, it was the crew of this latest ship off the line.

  “So what exactly is our plan?” Pearl shouted, flung to the side by the Schriever’s continued defensive maneuvers.

  “Evasion,” Mitchell replied. Without waiting for further comment from the engineer, Mitchell reported, “LeMay has fired all four forward rail guns.”

  “Broadside!” Pearl shouted. “When do we get our chance?”

  The Schriever shuddered from a fresh hit. “Soon or we won’t get a chance at all,” Yates muttered. Louder, he ordered, “Maytree, get us in line to bring rails to bear.”

  “Trying, sir!” the pilot said through gritted teeth.

  “OLS just scored a hit,” Mitchell reported as the offensive lasers discharged.

  “Effect?” Yates grunted.

  “Nothing conclusive, OCS is firing lasers again,” Mitchell said, “Three firing. Number two firing. Defensive solutions locked, engaging. Offensive lock. Three firing. One and two firing…”

  Yates took in the ship-wide status displayed before him. More of his ship was yellow than green. He grabbed both sides of the console to steady himself. Several icons starting blinking red near the starboard bow.

  “Just lost OLS number three,” Mitchell reported.

  “I can see that,” Yates said. “Maytree, the U.S. Space Corps did not give us those big guns for nothing!”

  “Yes, sir,” Maytree shouted, “OCS is giving priority to defensive assets and maneuvers. I’m trying to reprioritize…all set!”

  Yates was knocked sideways in his chair as a deep rumbling surged through the ship shaking each and every piece of the spacecraft. “Direct hit,” Mitchell said.

  “No kidding,” Pearl growled, scowling at his screens. “This is not good.”

  “Reactor 2 has gone off line!” Lieutenant Reeves reported.

  “Looks like we lost a coolant line; pressures’ bottoming out,” Pearl grumbled. “I’m attempting a bypass and restart.”

  “Do it,” Yates ordered, trying to focus on the status board despite the renewed vigor of Schriever’s evasive actions. A reactor restart was dangerous under any conditions, but he needed the power to ensure the offensive laser system could be utilized at full effectiveness.

  “LeMay is engaging again,” Mitchell said. “They’re taking hits.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Pearl said with a nervous laugh. He hunched lower of his console, furiously dragging and tapping icons on his control board. “Come on baby, we can do this.”

  “Can we assist?” Yates asked.

  The Schriever yawed hard and changed spin rates.

  “Not until we shake our friend,” Mitchell managed to grunt under the new gee stress.

  Yates met several of his crew’s eyes. Each was hoping he had some grand plan to save their collective butts.

  “Then
I suggest we lose them.” Not much of a plan, but it was all Yates had at the moment. He hoped it was enough.

  Bullard Space Elevator

  Earth Space

  Ian reached out to snag Jennifer’s helmet when he was struck in the back by someone barreling out of the ladder way. He grabbed the helmet’s locking collar as he tumbled to the floor with the man clinging to his egress suit. Ian tried to push him away as he spun to face the new arrival.

  “What are you doing in the way?!” The man shouted as he untangled himself from Ian. He spotted the emergency lockers and pushed off Ian to get to the nearest one. He began frantically clawing for the clearly marked release mechanism. Belatedly, the man realized Ian was already suited up. Locking eyes on Ian, he screamed “I need that suit!”

  It took Ian a moment to realize the man was serious. “We’re not on the Titanic, get your own,” he said, pointing at the emergency locker the man had ripped the protective cover from.

  “There’s no time!” the man said, his eyes wide with fear.

  Ian tightened his grip on a nearby ladder rung as the man clumsily launched himself off the wall.

  Just as he was within the man’s reach, Ian yanked his entire body out of the way while simultaneously bringing the helmet in his hand around in a tight arc. Following through, Ian was rewarded with a grimly satisfying, wet smacking noise as the helmet solidly connected with the man’s nose.

  “Aaaggh!” the man bawled. He clawed at Ian fruitlessly with one hand as he spun away. His other hand was busy attempting to staunch the blood flow from his broken nose. Blobs of red were flung away in every direction as he shouted, “Whazat far?”

  Ian did not wait for the man to recover. He pushed off and quickly rejoined Jennifer. A quick check of the helmet verified using it as a bludgeoning tool had not compromised its integrity.

  The man continued to grumble but kept to his side of the compartment.

  Nevertheless, Ian kept a wary eye on him as he twisted Jennifer’s helmet into place.