Stormhaven Rising (Atlas and the Winds Book 1) (69 page)

“This is the Stormhaven transport
Draco
,” the voice announced with no perceptible delay. It had to be very close. “We’re closing on your location to provide assistance. Can you activate your EVA lights so we can get a visual on you?”

“Sure,” he said, punching in the command to bring the external lights on. Far in the distance he could make out a shape, silhouetted against the Earth. “I think I have you in visual.”

“
Reliant
, please do not maneuver, we will close to your trajectory and haul you in."

Randy watched the ship change heading and arc out of sight. He lost it in the darkness, and pushed back to switch on the ranging radar. The scope showed nothing until the collision warning screamed. Slapping his palm on the console, he cut off the claxon and looked out the window. A wall that had to be the side of the
Draco
floated a few feet away.

“Careful out there. I hardly know you and I’m not sure why you’re here.”

“We thought you’d need a lift home,” the other ship said. “The ISS is no longer a viable destination, and unless you want to hang around waiting for them to figure out what to do with you, we’re your best alternative.”

“I can see that, but my status isn’t critical at his point,” Randy said. The hull of the
Draco
eclipsed the Earth from view as he watched the massive ship maneuver closer. “What the hell are you doing?"

“We’re grappling you into a cargo mount,” the voice said. “Do you have an EVA suit?”

“Affirmative,” Randy said, glancing at the radar again. The screen showed a faint reflection but every proximity warning light flashed.

“Then get suited, and we’ll send someone out to guide you to a lock.” A quiet bumping shook the
Reliant
, and he realized that he’d been hauled into contact with the big ship. “Are you still about five minutes to depress the cabin?”

“Affirm. And about ten minutes to suit,” Randy spun and pushed across the cabin toward the locker where the ship’s one EVA suit was stowed.

“Roger. We’ll wait for you to transfer before we boost.
Draco
out.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Randy changed into the suit and started the pumps that pulled the atmosphere out of the small cabin. He thought about the strangeness of the situation, but given everything else that was happening he decided to just roll with it.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, a feminine voice came through his comlink. “Commander Markham, are you ready to make the transfer?”

“Sure. I’m on my way out,” he replied, spinning the hatch release and pulling the door inward. The darkness of space was totally obscured by the hull of the
Draco
, and an astronaut in a light blue space suit floated outside. Her visor was up, and he could see her smile in the near dark. White teeth glowing in a deeply tanned face.

“Hi there,” she said, as if a rendezvous a hundred-thousand miles out in space was as commonplace as meeting someone on a bus. “I’ve got a tow strap for you.” She stuck a terrifyingly fine gauge cord into the tether ring on his space suit, snapping the hook securely into place with a firm tug.

“Come on, we need to get you inside before Dave decides to leave us behind.” She twisted away from the
Reliant’s
hatch with a shove that carried them both out toward open space beyond the ship.

“Aren’t you tethered?” Randy asked, suddenly concerned with their safety.

“Nope, I’ve got a pack on,” she teased, swinging an arm up from her waist to grab a small control stick and twist it forward. A strong thrust jerked him around, flinging him in front of her as she bounced the controls with an easy pulse. “Hang on,” she said, again flashing him that amazing smile.

They spun away from the ship in a graceful arc toward an open hatch on the side of a protruding structure that he couldn’t identify. In fact, he realized gazing at its massive form, most of the ship was built of things he couldn’t figure out. The
Reliant
, looking tiny by comparison, hung from cables against the mid-section of the
Draco
. “Wow,” he said.

“Yeah, how do you astronauts get used to walking in space?” she said, misunderstanding his expletive.

“What do you mean?” he asked, studying the hatch closely for a handhold.

“I mean, this is my first time outside the ship. Does it get less amazing with experience?” she said, awe apparent in her voice. A sudden tug on the cord and they were motionless, within reach of the door. He’d been bracing for a rather rough approach, and was startled by the expert maneuver.

“You’re a rookie?” Incredulous that anyone could show such skill without years of training.

“Sure,” she explained. “No one in Stormhaven except Dave, has any experience out here. NASA has a stranglehold on the territory.” She nudged him into the doorway and followed him through, pulling it shut behind her.

The airlock was a long hallway with eight nearly indistinguishable sides, and identical doors on each end. She twisted around, planting her feet on one of the surfaces, and as if she were anchored there by some unseen force, turned him toward the same orientation so that his feet hung about an inch above the floor. “We’re inside,” she said, pushing him downward so that he felt the floor under his feet.

“We’re under way,” she said, grinning at his confusion. Gravity had suddenly been
switched on
, and his knees nearly buckled under the Earth-normal force. It had been months since he’d been back home, and his greater than lunar-normal weight was almost painful.

“You’re shitting me,” he swore, leaning against a rail along one of the walls for support. “Artificial gravity?”

A loud hissing sound told him that they were pressurizing, and he watched her unsnap the visor and swing the faceplate up. She was even more beautiful in the flesh than she’d looked through her helmet. “Nope. Continuous acceleration.” She reached up, unfastening his helmet, and pulled it over his head deftly. His ears popped several times.

Behind him, the inner door opened and he turned to see a man wearing a black coverall standing there. “Welcome to the
Draco
,” the man stepped up and pulled the upper part of the LSU from his back. “Let me introduce myself, though I think we met once or twice while I was still with NASA.”

“Yeah, I remember you. You’re Dave Randall,” he said, sticking his hand out. “Susan’s ex-husband, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Dave admitted, sounding concerned. “She wasn’t still at Alpha was she?”

“Oh, hell no,” Randy grinned. “She’s been put in charge back at the colony.”

“Colony?” Dave raised an eyebrow. “I guess we aren’t the only ones looking at the downside potential.” He stepped back and grinned. “Sophie, can you get Randy undressed? I think I need to talk to Cole before he lands.”

“Sure.” she grinned wolfishly. Suddenly Randy felt uncomfortably close in the airlock.

***

Washington:

Most of the Cabinet entered the conference room in silence. The wallscreen showed multiple images of the rescue operation as observed from the Starhawks. A continuous running commentary was audible from the Squadron Leader.

President Hutton stared at the images and shook her head as each of her Cabinet glanced at her for answers. Dr. Donna Jacoby, the woman that Al told her should be his successor if something ever happened to him, sat forward in her seat, leaning close and whispering explanations of what they were seeing. Finally she’d had enough and turned to her assembled advisors.

“If that isn’t the most amazing use of adversity I’ve ever seen,” she said, pointing at the display. The lifeboat was being encased in what looked like a clear plastic baggie, and air was being pumped into it so they could open the hatch and get the two passengers out and transferred into the ship. “These people were public enemy number one this morning, and now they’re superheroes."

“It is going smoothly for them,” Secretary Reynolds acknowledged. The bubble was hauled towards a hatch on the side of the
Aquila
, and one of the cameras showed that the access port of the lifeboat was swinging open and the head of Sergei Titov was poking out in disbelief.

“They don’t even seem to be working at it,” Secretary Herman said. “They’ve managed to make us look like bumbling fools once again.”

“I think they’ve got more than a dozen maneuvering packs out there at the same time. There were only three in the entire station,” Jacoby said, raising her voice enough to almost be heard.

“It’s an impressive display of their abilities,” Secretary Worthington said, “but what troubles me is that we had no idea that they had this capacity.” He stood near the door, looking more like a guard than a member of the Cabinet. “So far they’ve managed to confound almost every effort we’ve made at penetrating their operations.”

“And they’ve proven that they have carte blanche access to ours,” Secretary Reynolds reminded everyone. The President hadn’t forgotten they were behind the grounding of Air Force One.

“Has anyone figured out what he’s really after?” John Herman asked, sitting on the arm of his chair, staring at the Russian cosmonaut floating through the opening into the ship. “I mean so far we’ve considered Colton Taylor an enemy, but is that how he sees it?”

“Who knows?” Dick said, shrugging. “For all we know about him, he might as well be Santa."

“All he’s said is that he wants permission to fly his own space fleet,” Worthington said, coming to the table. “Of course we can’t give him that.”

“At this point I don’t know if we could stop him, even if we wanted,” Gene Reynolds said in obvious frustration.

“Do you mean politically?” the DHS Secretary asked. “This has gone good for them, but I don’t see why we can’t maintain the blockade at least until we finish with our mission.”

“Did you see the footage of their launch?” Gene countered. “They cut through us like we were sitting with our thumbs up our asses. Have any of you seen what he did to our patrol fighters?"

With the exception of President Hutton, the rest of the Cabinet shook their heads in confusion.

“Run the video,” she said. No one spoke as the file played out on the wallscreen. Cameras from the three intact jets showed their mid-air capture, and a long-range motion-sensing camera showed the rescue of the fourth pilot right out of the middle of a swirling cloud of debris.

“Apparently their weapons are some form of energy beam that project an intense EM field and can hold an object fixed in the air,” Gene explained.

“But a pilot isn’t magnetic,” Worthington said, watching the image of the pilot being set on the ground.

“Yeah, we’d noticed that too,” the Secretary of Defense said, “Marquez is working on a theory to explain that, but it’s the best guess we’ve got at the moment. They also used them to stop four of the six missiles that were launched to intercept them.”

“So they’ve got stuff you can’t even identify?” The Vice-President asked.

“That’s right. Not even a clue,” Gene said.

“And we’ve got no idea what else they might still have to show us that they haven’t exposed,” the President finished his thought. “The General said he thinks we’re absolutely outclassed and we simply can’t touch them at this point.”

“Bullshit,” Worthington snorted. “We’ve got plenty of firepower. They can’t stop all of it before we get something through their defenses.”

“Will you listen to yourself?” Jacoby said, glaring at the Secretary of Homeland Security. “What are you thinking? Our best effort just crapped out, and these people might be the only hope we’ve got.” Shaking in frustration, she clamped down visibly on her anger.

“Donna,” the President said, smiling at her outburst. “You and I both know you’re right, in a perfect world. At this point I don’t think we need to use force to resolve this situation even if we could. Plus adding another unpredictable conflict into the game plan would be a needless waste of our resources.”

“Especially since Taylor said all along that they were willing to talk,” Dick said. “I met him once, and I remember thinking that I was really glad he had no interest in politics.”

“Obviously that’s changed,” the Secretary of State said, frowning. “He’s managed to put himself center-stage in the political arena now.”

“Maybe I should go talk to them,” Sylvia said, looking around the table.

“I don’t need to remind you that yesterday these people were the most dangerous terrorists in the world,” Secretary Worthington said.

“I have to agree with William this time.” John nodded. “You’re far too important to expose to the risk. I can handle it.”

“We don’t have time to waste.” She stood up, looking again at the pictures on the wall. “We’ve just flushed Hammerthrow, and all we’re doing is talking political propriety. I’m the only one who can close the deal."

“You can’t do that—“ Worthington started.

“I don’t remember asking,” she said, shooting him an expression that left no doubt the discussion was over. “This is no longer about careers and politics. This is about survival. Personal risk is part of the job.”

***

Cape Canaveral, Florida: