Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) (26 page)

-46-

We withdrew, gliding away from the three ships which were still locked in a death-spin on two axes. Now and then, a burst of exhaust from one thruster or another tried to counter the spin, but it didn't seem to be working.

“I can’t bear to watch,” Rumbold said, but he was staring at our rear camera view anyway.

“I don’t understand why their auto-stabilizers aren’t working,” Yamada said. “Are they damaged?”

“No, I can see them firing off a jet now and then,” Durris said. “Maybe the crews aren’t coordinating. Maybe they’re trying to pull apart, but they can’t.”

“That’s not it,” Vogel said in an authoritative voice.

We looked at him, but he continued to stare at the spectacle without further comment.

“Let’s hear it then,” I said. “What’s your theory, Director?”

He sniffed and scratched his ear thoughtfully. Against orders, he’d removed his helmet.

“It’s not a theory, I’m afraid. The circumstances are clear. The crews are dead, or at least incapacitated. Three gravities, plus centrifugal force from the spin… even Betas can’t endure that.”

I looked at the ships in greater concern. I hadn’t considered the possibility the crews were already dead.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Betas are very tough, and those jets keep firing now and then, trying to get control of their spin.”

“They’re locked together by gravitational force. Each ship’s computer is trying to stabilize itself, but can’t compensate for the others. They’re using maneuvering jets, but each burst of thrust affects all three ships. They’re just fighting each other uselessly.”

With growing concern, I studied the three cruisers. This wasn’t what I’d intended—not even close. I hadn’t wanted to destroy any Beta ships, much less all three.

“Congratulations, Sparhawk,” Vogel went on. “I’ve heard you’re a tactical genius, but this victory exceeds my wildest expectations. Think about it: you bested three equal ships without firing a shot! Almost unbelievable. My advice is that you carefully record everything to prove this really happened when we get back to Earth.”

“That’s not the advice I need right now, Director,” I said. “How can we help them?”

That question got the attention of everyone on the command deck. As one, they looked at me. For the most part, their expressions registered shock and incredulity.

“Well?” I demanded, looking at Vogel. “Can you help, or are you only good for joking about the deaths of others?”

“Um…” Vogel said, “I guess we could use the variants.”

“How so?”

“
Defiant
can’t get close, we’d become locked together and our bodies would be crushed. But a variant can operate under three Gs of force. We could send in a shuttle. A variant could crawl over the hull of two of the ships cutting the thruster lines. If only one ship was auto-stabilizing, they might all stop spinning.”

Thoughtfully, I looked at the scene and the data. The ships were still spinning. As I watched, two of the ships fired their thrusters, but the result was only further, random rotation.

“It’s worth a shot,” I said. “Come about, Rumbold, but don’t get too close.”

Rumbold’s eyes bugged out at me. His mouth hung open.

“Protest noted,” I said. “Come about.”

“All right, Captain,” he said, giving his head a shake.

He brought the ship around, and we began backtracking toward the three enemy ships.

Vogel went below and unpacked four of our variants. That was all we could fit aboard a shuttle. It took too much time, but we managed to get them underway with clear instructions.

Vogel was at my side when the shuttle took off. They were piloting the tiny ship, thrusting hard to get away from the pull of
Defiant
.

Vogel and I stood alone in the shuttle hangar looking out into the strange colored lights that made up the walls of this universe.

“This is crazy, Captain,” he said.

“I’m not surprised you feel that way,” I told him. “But I’m looking at this war differently now. It’s not Earth against all her colonists. It’s about bringing people together.”

“Are you including my variants on your list of people?” he asked me.

“Yes… I’m starting to count them as crewmen. We must all learn to function together somehow. If we keep fighting one another as humanity spreads and diversifies across the stars, things will surely end badly for all of us.”

“End badly?” he asked. “As it is, the oldsters rule everyone on Earth through updates, and they kill off every competitor they discover. How could it get worse?”

“What if they ruled everyone in this part of the galaxy with similar disregard?” I asked. “I’d call that a bad finish, but it’s not the only one in our future. The variants might take matters into their own hands by deciding to kill off everyone else. Like I said, I’m trying to gain the trust of the Betas. If we can get a single world to ally with Earth rather than fighting her—”

“But Captain,” he said, “clearly that’s not up to us.”

I would have begun pacing across the hangar deck, but the ship was still providing uneven footing. Every time I took a step, my foot seemed to snap down the last centimeter and stick there.

“That could change,” I said. “I’d like to discuss some possibilities with you at a later date.”

He stared at me for a time, but then he nodded slowly. “All right,” he said at last. “Until then.”

He left me on the hangar deck. I stayed behind to watch the hatch doors slowly swing shut, sealing off the strange glowing light of this pocket universe.

It felt disconcerting to know we were drifting in a reality that existed apart from everything I’d ever known. If this ER bridge were to collapse around us, all of us would vanish, never to return to Earth.

I wondered, if that happened, how we might be remembered.

-47-

The variants reached the stuck-together cruisers, but then they nearly encountered disaster.

“The shuttle—it’s losing control, sir!” Rumbold said.

I watched in silent concern. There was no order I could give and no suggestion I could make. The die was cast.

The shuttle was thrusting wildly with its tail exhaust port aimed toward the three spinning ships. I could tell the variants weren’t the best of pilots, but they were doing what they could. They were in a constant struggle as they battled the controls, trying not to heel over and plunge nose first into the deadly maelstrom of spinning ships.

“It’s an impossible task,” Rumbold said, watching. “Normally, landing under a three G pull is deadly. But this—the bodies they’re trying to land on are moving in two directions at once, and they’re pulling unevenly. When they get too close…”

“Are you saying they’ll be destroyed?” I asked him.

“I am, Captain. I suspected it before, but I’m certain of it now that I’m watching the situation play out.”

As the distance closed, I had to agree. The shuttle was wobbling. The forces would magnify once they got down to the final few meters, and they’d be slammed against one or another of the Beta hulls. At that point, there was little chance the shuttle wouldn’t blow up.

“Bring them back, Captain,” Rumbold urged. “They don’t deserve this.”

I watched thoughtfully for a few more seconds. “Contact the shuttle’s commander,” I said.

They looked at me as if I was mad for a moment, but then Yamada complied.

“K-19 reporting,” said a voice.

“K-19? I didn’t realize it was you aboard the shuttle.”

“Identity confirmed. Your orders, Captain?”

“I want to ask you to make a decision,” I said, “are you willing to continue this rescue attempt, or do you wish to abort?”

There was a second or so of silence. “I don’t understand, Captain,” K-19 said. “What are your orders?”

“My orders are for you to decide your fate. Are the goals of this mission achievable or not?”

Another few moments passed. “That depends on whether or not my crew survives direct contact with the spinning ships.”

“Right... Now, do you think that’s likely to happen? Is this a suicide mission?”

“Ah, I understand now. You don’t wish to lose valuable assets, not if the mission is impossible. I can’t give you that answer, sir. We might survive, or we might not.”

“All right then,” I said. “The matter is in your hands. You can make the call as you’re on the spot and know better than I do what the odds are. I don’t want you to attempt this rescue if it will destroy you and your crew. Decide.”

There was a moment of quiet.

Vogel leaned close to me. “Sir, you’re confusing them. They know how to follow orders, but you’re asking them to make a judgment call full of unknown factors.”

“I know precisely what I’m doing,” I told him without a glance. “K-19, I’m waiting.”

“We have formulated a plan, Captain. Do we have permission to attempt it?”

It was my turn to hesitate, but I only did so for a split-second.

“Yes,” I said.

The channel closed, and we all watched as if mesmerized, wondering what the variants would do next.

“Hey, they’re opening the hatch!” Rumbold shouted, pointing at the screen excitedly.

We watched a figure crawl out. It was a variant, its legs resembling silvery-white sticks at maximum magnification. The shuttle continued to wobble, holding at a distance of some fifty meters from the spinning bundle of cruisers below them.

“What do you think—?” began Yamada, but then she gave a strangled cry and put her hand to her mouth.

The variant let go. Behind it was a glinting line attached to the shuttle. The variant sprang from the shuttle and flew like a spider dropping from the ceiling. It spun out a line behind it as it got close to the ships.

“They’re going to drop off a man!” Rumbold said excitedly. “That’s ingenuity!”

The brave creature almost made it—almost. When the variant was perhaps ten meters from the surface of the ships, one of the three cruisers fired another steering jet.

The spin altered, flipping a portion of one vessel’s super structure higher than it had been. Jutting out into space, a heavy wingtip slammed into the variant. It was crushed instantly and hurled away into space like a ball hit by a batter.

“Damn!” I said, unable to contain myself.

“Call them back, Captain!” Rumbold implored me.

“No!” Director Vogel said. “Don’t. I want to see what they’ll do.”

I eyed both men but made no decisions. “Let them decide.”

The shuttle didn’t retreat. Instead, another variant crept out of the hatch.

“They’re doing this for you,” Yamada said. “You have to know that, Captain. They think you’ve ordered them to solve an impossible equation. It’s not fair.”

My eyes slid to her, but then I looked back at the forward screen. “K-19 understands what’s been asked of him.”

“Yes!” Vogel said excitedly. “He does. This
must
continue. I’m taking critical notes.”

The second variant got even closer to his goals. He came down the line, hanging at an angle, and dodged the spinning protrusions.

It was the wobble in the shuttle’s jets that got him in the end. He swung too close to the exhaust plume, and he was incinerated in an instant.

“That’s too much,” Rumbold said. “Permission to summon a replacement helmsman, Captain?”

“Denied. If you don’t like it, don’t watch, Rumbold. We’re risking variants, it’s true, but if we can save these three ships and their crews we’ll have strengthened the defenses of all humanity significantly. Did you notice that millions died on other colony worlds? These Betas have resisted the armada where others couldn’t.”

He muttered something about me being a cold-hearted man, but I didn’t listen. Of course I was cold-hearted. You could hardly be a starship captain without being willing to sacrifice for the greater good. The calculus of warfare in space was extremely unforgiving.

The third variant slid out on a line. My stomach was in a knot. There could only be one other unit aboard—K-19, the pilot of the shuttle. This would be their last attempt.

This individual seemed to have learned after watching the demise of its fellows. It moved with alacrity rather than careful slowness. When it was about five meters from the spinning ships, it simply let go of the line.

Dropping hard, it crunched down on the turning ships, and was whisked away from visual contact with the shuttle. Its weight seemed to pin it to the surface of the hull at first, but then it slowly got up and began crawling.

Officers whooped on the deck, and the shuttle lifted away from the three cruisers with difficulty returning to our position.

I was all smiles when I headed for the hangar. I felt K-19 deserved my personal congratulations. He’d done an excellent job with both innovation and piloting.

When I reached the shuttle bay, and the last remaining variant crawled out of it, I was left staring in shock.

The variant’s insignia left no doubt. It wasn’t K-19. It was Q-161.

“Q-161?” I asked. “Where’s K-19?”

“He was destroyed,” the variant said in a neutral tone.

“What? When did he make the attempt?”

“He went first. He ordered me to take the helm then he left the ship. The attempt failed, but we had our orders. Each of us left the ship, one at a time, until one of our number survived. I was the last, so I brought the shuttle home.”

“Yes… I see,” I said, deflated. “Excellent work. Consider yourself promoted to K-19’s position.”

“Thank you, Captain. We won’t let you down.”

The variant scuttled away, and I felt a sense of loss. I’d come to like K-19, and he’d become a competent member of my crew.

Turning to the nearest viewport, I stared at the Beta ships. They were still locked in their deadly embrace, spinning helplessly.

“I hope some of you are still alive,” I said aloud to the Beta crews.

They couldn’t hear me, of course. No one could, but I said it anyway.

Heading back up to the command deck, I lamented the lonely nature of the captaincy. Mistakes could strike a man in my position with sickening emotional pain.

But I didn’t dare hint about such feelings. My face was a mask of stone when I took my chair again.

I called for an update concerning the surviving variant’s progress, and I was suitably impressed. He’d made his way to the first of many thrusters and disabled it.

We’d soon find out if this effort was worth it or not.