Silent star, p.15
Silent Star, page 15
The SBX’s complex task was limited by the proximity of Earth. The SBX could not see through the Earth. Ideally, the SBX would be stationed at L-5, to give a single facility the fullest range of tracking, but servicing the SBX that far from Earth orbit was technically and financially impossible. Instead, three remote orbital substations were networked to the primary SBX. A costly, but technologically feasible solution to the SBX limits.
Lifting the many defensive components to orbit required cooperation between U.S., Japanese, European Union, and Russian space agencies. Only China declined to participate after the U.S. refused to give in to unreasonable demands for sensitive technologies. However, the limited Chinese payload capability was hardly missed. The Russian heavy lift Vulcan rocket, with its Enertia core and eight boosters had been the workhorse of the program, lifting one hundred and seventy five tons at a time. With the Russians perpetually balancing on the brink of a financial precipice, the U.S. bankrolled most of their launches. Even with most space-faring nation participating, the U.S. had to build two shuttles to move crews to and from orbit. For years, supporters of a human presence in space had longed for a significant move of people and materials off-planet and now their wish was fulfilled. Nothing mobilized the resources of a nation like the threat of annihilation.
With a rap on Baum’s office door, Dr. Cattell came in, breathless. Dr. Baum turned off his monitor, disconnecting from the live feed.
“We just decoded the last burst from the Interceptor,” Cattell said.
For security reasons some sensitive data was not transferred by net and Cattell leaned over Baum, shoving a jump drive into a USB port. Impatiently, she waited for the icon and then typed in her own security code. Next she scrolled and clicked so quickly that Baum could not follow her motions. Then she leaned back, holding her breath.
The camera showed the now familiar control room of the UNOB and Captain Linkletter crouching in the foreground. Baum half rose when he saw an alien standing at the controls, its back to Linkletter.
“Oh my…” Baum started.
“Wait,” Cattell said, then held her breath again.
Linkletter stood and pointed his weapon, his image appearing on the wall in front of the alien. Seconds later, the alien turned and shot something at Linkletter. Then a skirmish began with Linkletter first shooting the alien in view, and then turning and exchanging fire with someone or something off-screen. Then Linkletter ducked behind a console and a big alien in a strange spacesuit came into view, shooting laser beams. Smoke clouded the image, debris flying past as something off screen exploded. Linkletter was out of sight but alive since the alien continued to try and kill him. Suddenly, the alien went down under Riley, who shoved a knife in its throat.
“Oh, no,” Baum said.
“There’s more,” Cattell said, again leaning over Baum.
“I need to see that again,” Baum said.
“You need to see this first,” Cattell said.
She called up another recording and then leaned back, hand on Baum’s shoulder. The ID code identified the image as from Linkletter’s suit. They were looking into the docking module and an open hatch at the end. Scooter floated by, glancing their way as if he could see them. Behind Scooter came another of the big aliens. Weapon in hand, it tracked Scooter, watching but not shooting. When Scooter and the alien returned to the previous compartment, the image inched forward until they glimpsed the next compartment. Scooter floated by again, clearly terrified. Their view moved forward and suddenly they were face-to-face with the alien. Flashes of light disrupted the image, creating slow motion effect and they watched the alien’s chest torn apart from rifle fire.
“One more,” Cattell said, flopping over Baum once again.
In shock, Baum reeled with the implications.
“The final clip showed the exterior of the UNOB. The ID identified the image as coming from Riley. Recorded close to the UNOB surface, two humans in space suits appeared, heads coming over the horizon. With long, graceful lopes they came up the side of the UNOB, slowly passing the camera. Close behind came an alien, running in its spacesuit, weapon in hand. The tip of Riley’s rifle came into view, tracking the running alien. Then the rifle jerked and the alien’s suit erupted, spraying gasses from three holes. With another flop, Cattell stopped the video.
“They killed at least three aliens,” Cattell said.
“In self defense,” Baum said.
“The aliens might not see it that way,” Cattell said.
“Then it’s our worst case scenario,” Baum said. “The universe is hostile.”
“I can hardly believe it,” Cattell said. “Perhaps the aliens were defending their property?”
“Perhaps,” Baum said doubtfully. “Are there any indications the UNOB is preparing to change course?”
“No, and unless it alters course soon it will be physically impossible for anyone inside to survive the correction.”
“Any humans,” Baum corrected. “We don’t know about the physiology of the aliens.”
“And if it does change course?” Cattell asked.
“Then it’s interplanetary war.” Baum said.
Chapter 26: Course Correction
Interceptor
Inbound
Approaching Earth
Scooter woke in the Interceptor, drifting in and out of consciousness. Slowly, some of the grogginess dissipated like sand through his fingers. Scooter panicked when he remembered the rodent attack. Fully conscious now, he realized he was floating. Twisting his head, he found himself inside a web of fibers that kept him from drifting. Sliding an arm free, Scooter felt along his body. He was wrapped in translucent material that fit tightly to his body, his clothes and body armor gone. The rodents had done something to him, but what? And why did they leave him naked, suspended in mid air?
Scooter tried tearing one of the fibers loose but it cut into his hand. Even with two hands, he could not break a line. Frustrated, he tried to roll over but could barely move. Looking around, he found a small red rodent hanging from a wall, black eyes fixed on Scooter, unblinking, unemotional.
“What the hell did you do to me?” Scooter demanded.
A blink and then more of the the black-eyed stare.
“Cut me loose,” Scooter demanded.
A snout wiggle and more staring.
“Please, cut me loose,” Scooter begged.
Not even a snout wiggle this time.
Giving up on the little alien, Scooter looked for something within reach to use to cut the fibers. When he did, he saw movement on one of the monitors. Shocked by what he saw, Scooter struggled violently to get free. Quickly exhausted, Scooter gave up, watching the monitor. Then he heard noise in the next compartment.
“Anyone there?” Scooter called.
Captain Linkletter and Gains appeared, breaking into broad smiles.
“How do you feel, Scooter?” Linkletter asked.
“Cut me loose, cut me loose,” Scooter said, panicky.
“Easy, Scooter,” Gains said. “You’ve been in surgery. You need some time to recover.”
“There’s no time,” Scooter said.
“Calm down, Scooter,” Linkletter said. “You’ll rip out your stitches—or whatever they use.”
“Look at the monitor,” Scooter said, pointing.
Link and Gains found the monitor.. The UNOB’s arms were moving, and the tips glowing.
“What does it mean?” Linkletter asked.
“It means that you better hold on,” Scooter said.
Linkletter and Gains reached for additional handholds, just as the course correction began. Suspended in the middle of the compartment, Scooter watched Linkletter and Gains slam into the Interceptor’s wall.
Chapter 27: Stepping Stone
Interceptor
Inbound
Approaching the Threat Zone
This time Gains needed the attention of the rodents and watched closely as instruments were used to examine his crushed finger and then slice it open and knit the bone.
“Glue and duct tape seem to be their solution to everything,” Gains said when they were finished, flexing his neatly wrapped finger. “I can’t feel a thing but it works.”
As Gains wiggled his repaired finger, a red rodent pressed something against his bad knee, studying it. After a minute, it tapped its foot on the wall and a gray rodent scurried in, a small one on its back. Together, they studied Gains’ knee.
“That’s an old injury,” Gains said, straightening his leg.
Gently, the red rodent put a paw under Gains’ knee and lifted, holding a device resembling a flashlight to the joint. Heads together, the rodents’ black noses were practically touching the device. After a few whispers the red rodent pulled a knife, pressing it to Gains’ knee.
“Stop that,” Gains shouted, jerking his leg away.
Surprised but not afraid, the rodents stood on back legs, noses twitching.
“I like my knee just the way it is,” Gains said.
“You let them operate on Scooter,” Link said.
“That was different,” Gains said, not explaining.
With nothing but bruises, Link pulled himself back into the compartment where Scooter hung in a web. Scooter was awake, staring at the monitors.
“Cut me loose,” he begged. “I need to check our position.”
“I know where we are,” Link said. “At least I know where we’re going. The UNOB is going to Earth.”
Gains came in, showing Scooter his finger.
“I’m not impressed,” Scooter said, indicating his body wrap. “What did they do to me?”
“They seemed very interested in your spinal cord,” Gains said. “You’re missing some ganglia.”
“What?” Scooter said. “Why?”
Gains pulled his knife and circled Scooter, pausing by his feet.
“What are you doing?” Scooter asked.
Gains poked the sole of Scooter’s foot.
“Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Scooter said.
Gains poked him again with the same result. Disappointed, Gains circled so Scooter could see him.
“I thought they were rewiring you,” Gains said.
“What? Why?”
“They fix things,” Gains said. “To them, you are broken.”
“Thankfully, I can still use my arms, but everything below my waist is as dead as ever. What were they thinking?”
Gains said nothing, staring through the translucent bandage along Scooter’s back.
“How many gees was that burn?” Link asked.
“Eight or nine,” Gains said.
“Cut me loose and I can tell you exactly,” Scooter said.
“Much more than the launch,” Gains said.
“Cut me loose,” Scooter whined.
He’ll cut you loose when you’re ready,” Link said, pointing to the small red rodent suspended from the ceiling.
“Why didn’t the Interceptor tear loose during that maneuver?” Gains asked.
“The rodents modified the Interceptor,” Scooter said. “I saw it on the monitor. They seem to think it’s an extension of the UNOB and reinforced it to survive the course correction. As far as they’re concerned, we and the Interceptor are as much their responsibility as the UNOB and the aliens.”
Link studied the small red rodent, doubting something as clever as the rodents would be that limited in their thinking.
“We have to get back to the other UNOB,” Link said.
“What other UNOB?” Scooter said. “Where are the others?”
“You transported us to a twin of this UNOB,” Gains explained. “The Captain and Westbrook killed most of the aliens before we got there.”
“There was a battle?” Scooter said. “Tell me about it. Tell me everything.”
“Sorry, Scooter,” Link said. “We have to get back. You need to stay here and prepare the Interceptor for separation.”
“Then cut me loose.”
“No can do,” Link said. “We’ll let the rodents decide when to let you go.”
“I can’t do anything hanging in mid air,” Scooter complained.
“Can’t you?” Link said, handing him the diagnostic computer. “Let the rodents be your hands and feet.”
Scooter was already accessing the deciphered alien symbols when Link left. Link and Gains retrieved the bomb, Link carrying it this time. Studying the console back in the control room, Link realized there was one less spider symbol on the panel than the other UNOB. Selecting the orange spider, Link powered up the transporter and set what they understood to be a timer. Then he and Gains hurried to the center of the cavern, both anxious for the transitional state of pure consciousness.
Link arrived on the second UNOB with an overwhelming sense of danger. During the transport his mind had raced through hundreds of bits and pieces of information about the three alien species, their behavior, their similarities and differences, the design of the UNOB, the technological disparities between the transporter and the rest of the UNOB, and a myriad other details. Even in his hyperaware state Link felt there was a missing piece and that worried him.
“How is Scooter?” Riley said, coming into the cavern, Ramirez and Westbrook right behind.
Gains explained what had happened to Scooter and his condition. Knowing the rodents had done exploratory surgery on one of their own created a new level of tension.
“Are we ready to go?” Link asked.
“Pretty much,” Westbrook said.
“Good to go,” Ramirez said.
“Damn right,” Riley said.
“Did you find one?” Link asked.
Riley led them into the control room where a large black tube sat, a power cable linking it to an oval, metallic object about two meters long. The object was wrapped in a harness with back straps. An identical unit sat next to it
“We found these in a compartment next to the hangar,” Riley explained patting one of the black tubes. “They are identical to those mounted in the mini-ships. The power source was a little trickier, since we didn’t know what to look for. Eventually we called one of the rodents and let him watch us jam the cable into every object we could find. By the time one of them figured out what we were trying to do, every rodent in the place was watching us and jabbering.”
Link doubted the rodents were that dense. It was more likely they were reluctant to help arm the humans.
“Have you tested it?”
“Burned a hole through an interior wall with a single pulse. I’d show you but the damn rodents repaired it.”
Riley picked up the tube. A second smaller cable hung below the tube with a simple button.
“It’s awkward but you just jam down on the button and it fires until you let go again.”
Link lifted the tube, finding it surprisingly light.
“This is where the heavy lifting comes in,” Riley said, using two hands to pick up the power source. “Even in this gravity the battery must weigh forty pounds. It would be seventy on Earth. One problem is that we don’t know how long a charge will last.”
“Then use it sparingly,” Link said, indicating that Riley should take one.
Riley was the easy choice, since he was big, strong, and fearless. The second choice was complicated. In this gravity Ramirez could carry the weapon but in Link’s post transport intellectual state he sensed her difference could be more valuable than another steroid enhanced bulky male. Also, there was no knowing if the red rodents would be at the next stop to give first aid, so Link wanted Gains’ hands to be free. That left Westbrook whose religious sensibilities led him to use rubber pellets in a fight for their lives.
“Westbrook, you take the other.”
Stoically, Westbrook put on the weapon. Now, with their rodent-modified body armor, and the addition of the mini-ship weapons, they were a different unit than the one that first snuck onto the UNOB.
“Everything else arranged?” Link asked. “Did the next UNOB come online?”
It had, so it was time to go. Link went to the transporter controls, punching the third spider symbol—the one that was different from the first two. Setting the controls as he had before, Link trusted the computer to do the rest. The hum of the power build-up began. They gathered in the center of the cavern.
“By now they must know something is up,” Link began but then stopped.
Taking Riley by the arm, he twisted him around to look at the back of the power source he wore. A big Pepsi logo sat in the middle. Westbrook’s had a logo too. Riley had another on his chest, plastered over the translucent material the alien’s had adhered to their body armor.
“How did you smuggle all of these onto the Interceptor?” Link asked.
“We were all allotted thirty pounds of personal gear,” Riley said.
“You brought thirty pounds of logos?” Ramirez asked.
“About,” Riley said. “That and my Desert Eagle pretty much covered it.”
Riley patted the big, gold-plated, gun on his hip.
“All right, we have to assume that they know we are coming, so be prepared,” Link said. “Don’t let the euphoria of the jump slow your reflexes. The cavern at the other end will be clear for the transport but it won’t stay that way. We’ll have only a few seconds before they react.”
“They may want to talk,” Westbrook said.
“Then they better make it damn clear,” Link said. “These UNOBs are stepping stones across space but we don’t know where they lead. It’s time to find out.”
The pitch of the energy build-up reached its peak and Link stepped into position, facing the doors to the control room. Both UNOBs had similar architecture so he assumed the next stop would too. Riley faced the hangar doors and Westbrook faced the same way as Link. The others covered their rear.
“Here we go,” Link said.
Then they were gone.
Chapter 28: Face of the Enemy
