Solar Express (60 page)

Another hour passed. By then he was feeling even less well, and he asked, “Interrogative CO2 level?”

CO2 LEVEL IS AT SEVEN POINT TWO PERCENT.

Just a little longer.

As he waited, Tavoian couldn't help thinking that it had taken him sixteen hours of accel and rest, the same as it took to get to the artifact, to reach a speed that was half of what his outbound velocity had been. Now he was traveling at half that speed for half the distance, and it was taking almost as long. Except, Tavoian realized, it was far more than half the distance given that he'd been traveling farther to avoid initially losing speed in order to use that speed to escape the sun's greater gravitational attraction near the orbit of Mercury.

Finally, after heading aft once again and adding more to the stack, pausing, and rethinking his plans, and rethinking again, and adding more small items, at 1355 UTC, Tavoian asked, “Are the Sinese ships still in the same position?”

THEY HAVE SHIFTED POSITION SLIGHTLY, BUT ARE STABLE.

“When the drive is ready, do a turnover and make the course change to a straight-on intercept of the Sinese ships.”

THAT REQUIRES AN OVERRIDE.

“Make course change with minimal fuel usage. Priority override. Compensating factors will decrease fuel mass ratio.”

Eight minutes passed before the AI announced,
BEGINNING TURNOVER AND MAKING COURSE CHANGE.

Even before the AI replied, Tavoian could sense the ship moving around him.

“When on new course, slew the ship so that the airlock is aligned with the course line.”

Slightly more than fifteen minutes later, the marginal acceleration stopped, and the AI declared,
OUTER AIRLOCK DOOR IS ALIGNED WITH PRESENT COURSE AND HEADING.

“Open the inner lock.”

The inner lock opened, and a brief wave of chill air rushed past him. As the lock air mixed with the compartment air, Tavoian felt slightly less flushed and his stomach was less uneasy.
That could be your imagination.
Whether it was imagination or not, the improvement in the way he felt was welcome, and he began to shift everything he had determined that was unnecessary for his return to Donovan Base into the lock, wondering if it would all fit.

It did, with barely enough room for him to slip inside as well.

He extracted the emergency space suit from the wall locker next to the airlock and struggled into it, not the easiest of tasks while weightless. Within several moments of sealing the helmet, he definitely felt even better. His headache wasn't throbbing so much, and he didn't feel as flushed.
Auto-suggestion … or real physiological relief?
He didn't know. He wasn't sure he cared.

He stepped into the main lock, and attached the tether to the suit's equipment belt, not that he had any equipment attached. “Close the inner airlock hatch.”

OVERRIDE REQUIRED WITH CODE.

Tavoian had to struggle to remember the code. “‘Tiger, tiger, burning bright.'”

INNER AIRLOCK HATCH CLOSING.

Tavoian waited. “Open the outer lock.”

THAT IS NOT RECOMMENDED AT PRESENT SPEED.

Neither is asphyxiating because you don't have a home base to return to. Any home base.
“Priority override. ‘In the forests of the night.'”

OUTER LOCK IS OPENING.

Several of the loose and lighter items were carried out of the lock as the air dispersed into space. Tavoian edged forward to the opening and looked out, taking in the view, restricted as it was by his helmet. He could see his destination, or rather both the Earth and the Moon … and the approximate position where the L1 facilities were. He thought he could make out several small points of light, but whether those were station lights or distant stars in the same position, he couldn't tell.

For a moment, he just looked. In all the time he'd been a pilot, he'd been where he could physically see the stars and Earth and Moon directly, not through a screen or a sensor, only a handful of times, mostly in various training exercises. Finally, he took a last look, trying to fix in his memory the image of Earth and Moon, half a million kays away, a not-quite full blue orb and a smaller dusty white crescent, against a star-splashed black velvet depth.

Then he turned and began unloading the airlock by lifting the broken laser and pushing it out. Then came the carbon extruder, followed by the spy-eyes and the small cubesats and thruster-paks, and all the other paraphernalia. The smaller items he eased out awkwardly, trying to give them some tiny amount of separation, but as little as possible.

All in all, it took him almost fifteen minutes before the lock was emptied.

“Undock and launch ISV one on current heading and course. Minimal ISV thrust for two minutes only.” Tavoian waited until the first ISV was clear, then ordered the launch for the second. When he was certain it was on its way, he stepped back and pressed the stud to manually close the outer airlock.

He had to wait more than five minutes before the airlock was pressurized and he could open the inner hatch. As soon as he was in the passenger area, he took off the helmet and made certain that he turned off the suit's air supply as well.

“Interrogative CO2 level?”

CO2 LEVEL IS SIX POINT SEVEN.

Tavoian wanted to take a deep breath. With roughly four hours to go, he
should
reach Donovan Base before the air in Recon three became unbreathable enough to knock him out.

“Initiate turnover and reorientation.”

INITIATING TURNOVER AND ORIENTATION.

Tavoian slowly struggled out of the emergency space suit, then replaced it in its locker. Within minutes of when he reached the control couch, the AI declared,
TURNOVER AND ORIENTATION COMPLETE.

“Commence deceleration.”

COMMENCING DECELERATION.

Since Tavoian had used fifteen minutes of drive availability for the course change, that meant Recon three would only actually decelerate for an hour and forty-five minutes, and that would add more than twenty minutes to the final decel—after another two-hour break.

He just lay back in the control couch for several minutes, thinking. What he'd attempted was an incredible long shot, but with all that he'd launched out of the lock, if any of it hit either of the Sinese ships it would do significant if not catastrophic damage. Considering that each piece would be traveling at close to three hundred thousand kays per hour, even a carbon fabric fastener could likely punch through most spacecraft hulls. And if something like the ISV or the broken tunable laser hit one of the Sinese ships, it would render the ship inoperable if not destroy it. On the other hand, he'd launched at most two or three hundred objects, less than fifty of which had significant mass. He'd attempted to create almost no spread, but he had figured that just his own actions would create a little spread. The two ISVs would remain in the center of the spread.

It might work … and from this distance what else could you have done?

He still had two torps, but those would have to wait until he reached the L1 area, and he hoped he wouldn't have to use them … but feared he would.

His thoughts drifted … and then he woke with a start when the deceleration stopped and he became weightless once more. He checked the time—1605 UTC—and immediately worried about the Sinese ships, but when he tried to ask the AI, his mouth and throat were so dry that all he could do was croak. He fumbled to find the squeezebottle. It took several mouthfuls and swallows before he could clear his throat.

“Can you pick up the Sinese ships on RCS?” The AI should, since Recon three ought to be around a hundred and seventy-five thousand kays away, almost next door in astronomical terms.

THAT IS AFFIRMATIVE.

Tavoian wanted to shake his head. His debris should have struck the ships some fifteen minutes before the end of decel.

ONE VESSEL IS RADIATING EXCESS HEAT. THE OTHER IS CLOSING ON IT.

Yes!
“Can you determine the severity of the damage?”

THE DAMAGED VESSEL APPEARS TO BE MISSING A LARGE SECTION OF ONE END, WITH LESSER DAMAGE MIDSHIPS.

The “good” thing about the damage was that at the speeds involved, it would be difficult for the Sinese to discover anything but the fact that the ship had been struck by a high velocity object … and meteors and cosmic debris did occur. The bad thing was that one of the ships appeared to be intact. The other problem was that Tavoian really didn't have any choice but to complete a standard deceleration, because he didn't have enough Hel3 for anything else.

Except it doesn't have to be exactly standard.
“To what speed can we decelerate to reach firing range on the two Sinese ships, execute turnover, fire torps, and then turnover and complete decel at two gees and still have enough thruster propellant and Hel3 to reach Donovan Base?”

THE OPTIMUM SOLUTION WOULD BE TO CONTINUE AT PRESENT VELOCITY FOR AN ADDITIONAL TEN MINUTES BEFORE EXECUTING TURNOVER AND FIRING TORPS, THEN EXECUTE A TURNOVER AND COMMENCE DECELERATION AT THREE GEES FOR TWELVE MINUTES. THAT ALLOWS TEN MINUTES FOR EACH TURNOVER, WITH THE STANDARD MARGIN FOR ARRIVAL DISTANCE.

Rotten as he felt, Tavoian had no doubts that he could take three gees for twelve minutes. “Prepare to execute that solution. Program the torps accordingly. Display the approach profile.”

The approach profile appeared on the screen wall, and Tavoian immediately began to study it. He almost swallowed when he saw the distances. When Recon three released torps, they'd be less than seven thousand kays from the target, and the torps would be traveling almost twenty-two kps, fast enough to cover the distance in roughly five minutes. While that sounded incredibly fast, defensive fire-control systems operated in nanoseconds, and they likely had Recon three already in their system.

There wasn't anything he could do about that, and the AI's solution would give the torps far more velocity—and less reaction time for the Sinese—than his own would have. The plain fact was that he didn't have anywhere else to go and the Sinese would likely target him as he approached Donovan Base if they could. So his only choice was to take them out first.
If you can.

After a time of trying to think of a better way to handle things, he thought he dozed, but he wasn't certain. Then, slowly, he became aware that he was sweating more, flushing, and that his stomach was getting uneasy. “Current CO2 level.”

THE CURRENT CO2 LEVEL IS SIX POINT EIGHT.

He checked the time—1736 UTC—still almost an hour before commencing the attack on the Sinese ships and then beginning decel. Another thought struck him. Why hadn't he heard anything from the colonel?

Because the Sinese ships are in an ideal position to intercept anything sent from Donovan Base to you.
There was also the fact that even if the Sinese couldn't break the encryption, the direction of the transmission might call attention—or greater attention—to Recon three. That suggested that, first, the colonel was putting a great deal of faith in Tavoian and, second, that the colonel didn't have many options. It also explained why he hadn't gotten any more messages from anyone.

“Is there any change in the position or actions of the Sinese ships?”

THE SINESE SHIPS REMAIN IN POSITION. THE DAMAGED VESSEL IS NO LONGER ACTIVELY RADIATING HEAT OR ENERGY. ITS HULL IS COOLING.

“Can you detect communications?”

THERE HAVE BEEN NO DETECTABLE TRANSMISSIONS.

All that meant was that no transmissions had been directed anywhere in Recon three's general area. There was no way that the AI could detect a tight burst beam to or from the ships, not from Earth or near-Earth orbit installations.

After what felt like an hour of checking the monitors he looked at the time readout—1751 UTC.

His headache was worse, and he felt even hotter, although he was shivering.
Time for remedial measures.
He pushed himself away from the control couch and then pulled himself down to the locker beside the inner airlock door. It seemed to take forever to get into the emergency space suit, but he was finally suited up, except for the helmet. He pull-floated himself forward to the control area.

Because he was feeling even more light-headed, he asked, “Interrogative CO2 level?”

CO2 LEVEL IS SIX POINT NINE PERCENT.

Tavoian decided not to wait any longer. He turned on the suit's air supply and donned the helmet. Within minutes, or so it seemed, the light-headedness vanished, and some of the uneasiness in his guts subsided. Except, when he checked the time, it was 1810 UTC.

He shivered.
Closer than you thought.
“Time to turnover.”

EIGHT MINUTES TO COMMENCING TURNOVER.

Nineteen minutes to releasing torps.
“Status of Sinese ships?”

STATUS AND POSITION ARE UNCHANGED.

Something about that bothered Tavoian. Why hadn't the undamaged ship moved? Or were they still trying to rescue the crew of the damaged ship? He couldn't say he liked what he'd done or what he was about to do … but with the Sinese threatening to destroy all the L1 facilities if any ship so much as moved, he didn't see that he had any real options. And with the CO2 toxicity problems, and the lack of Hel3, he also couldn't afford to wait around to see what was happening. He was literally running out of air, time, and fuel.

“Combat screens.” Even with a clearer head, Tavoian had to concentrate on the screens arrayed before him, even though the AI was directing the attack as programmed. The target, the still-functioning Sinese ship, was almost dead ahead—zero zero one relative.

Each second felt like a minute to Tavoian as he watched the screens. At 1818 UTC, the AI announced,
COMMENCING TURNOVER.