The Deep Dark Well (36 page)

“This same system can
be used to open gates throughout the station.  And only those gates which are
intended for permanent operation need instrumentation and machinery at either
end.”

“So you can open gates
whenever and wherever you want?”

“Basically.”

“How difficult is it to
use this system?”

“Very difficult, I’m
afraid,” he said with a frown.  “It is an art form, and takes years of
discipline to achieve the fine control needed to open temporary gates with pinpoint
accuracy.”

“So we know what your
station will be?”

“Yes,” he said with
another quick frown.  “And I wish it were otherwise.  I would not worry as much
if I were on the spearhead of the assault.”

“But you’re needed for
CinC,” she said with a smile.  “Neither you nor I can help the reality of the
situation.  We don’t have years.”

“Of course we don’t,”
he said.  “But I wanted you to see where I was sweating it out while you were
out there in space.”

“OK,” she said.  “Let’s
go look at my station.”

Chapter 18

Don’t tell me that man
doesn’t belong out there.

Man belongs wherever he
wants to go—

and he’ll do plenty
well when he gets there.

Wernher von Braun
(1912-1977)

There were two of the
ships, sitting side by side in the bay.  She had never seen anything like
them.  They were not the biggest ships she had ever seen, though both of them
must have massed double the
Niven
.  They took the general shape of the
other ships she had seen in this time.  Frontal cylinders tapering to rounded
noses, long pylon connecting to the ball of the inertialess drive.  Overall
about one hundred meters in length.  The snouts of weapons thrust out from the
nose of the ships, hatches for projectile weapons and missiles on either side,
turrets of defensive weaponry here and there.

The skins were what set
them apart from the other vessels she had seen.  Pure black crystalline
structure, covering every surface of the vessel, even weapons' barrels.  Light
shimmered off of the black skin.  Something about it seemed different.  She
looked back over her shoulder, trying to judge the angle of the lights behind
her.  A look back at the ship and she knew she was right.  It was not the
reflection of the light from behind her she saw in that skin.

“Yes,” said Watcher,
looking at her with a grin on his face.  “That is not reflected light.  These
are both total stealths.”

“Total stealths?  What
does that mean?”

“These crystalline
surfaces absorb all known forms of radiation.  The on-board computer calculates
the intensity and angle, and orders the skin one hundred and eighty degrees
opposite of the impact point to reproduce it.”

“So it’s invisible?”

“Basically, even to
computer enhancement.”

“Quantum computer?”

“Of course,” he
replied.  “They are the only systems that could handle that kind of information
processing.  Of course the invisibility is very fragile.  If the skin is
ruptured the ship will show a facet to the outer Universe until it is
repaired.”

“But it is
self-repairing, like everything else around here?”

“Again more or less,”
he said.

“Looks like his or hers
models,” she said with a chuckle.  “Which one is mine?”

“They’re both the
same,” he said.  “It’s up to you.”

“The one on the left, I
think.  By the way, what keeps it from being picked up on passive sensors?  It
has to have some heat loss, or is the pilot supposed to sweat it out.”

“There is a heat sink,”
he said.  “A most unique heat sink.  But let me show you aboard so you can see
for yourself.”

*    *    *

First Watcher showed
her the bridge.  It was a compact chamber, with seats for a crew of four,
though one could run the vessel well enough.  She would spend most of her time
here, and though she had fast learned the basic controls on the trainer at the
wormhole control center, it still helped to get hands on so to speak.

“She can do over a
thousand gees continuous with inertial compensators,” said Watcher as she made
herself comfortable in the seat.  Her muscles relaxed as the seat molded itself
to her form. 

“That translates to 9.8
kilometers per second acceleration,” he continued.  “Or light speed in eight
and a half hours, if that were possible in normal space.”

“I know,” she said, her
hands playing across the buttons that seemed so familiar to her, testing all
systems for preflight.  “Relativity would make even approaching light speed a
much longer prospect.  But say half-light in a little over four hours.  This
thing isn’t hyper capable, is it?”

“No.  The designers
were more interested in a spy or quick attack vehicle that operated in normal
space.  If there was any need to move it to another system, it could be carried
by a larger warship.”

“You said one thousand
gees continuous.  Emergency is what?”

“For up to three
minutes you do ten thousand gees, 98 kilometers per second.  That gives you a
burst of 17,600 kilometers per second velocity addition.”

“And if it’s pushed
over three minutes?”

“The system shuts down
in one of two ways.  The engine either gives out and you coast until repaired.”

“And the other option?”

“The inertial
compensator gives and you’re splattered all over the back wall of the bridge.”

“So if I’m smart I cut
it within the safety margin,” she said with a sigh.

“That would be best.”

“Are you sure we have
to do this?” she asked, the prospect of death now becoming very real to her for
the first time.  There were so many ways to die out there, in the space around
the
Donut
, this near to the massive distortion in space and time it
orbited about.  And the computer, though it was hardwired not to harm sentient
life, could probably find a few ways around that prohibition.  Not the least of
which would be in the crippling of her ship, leaving her to fall into the
nonexistence below the event horizon.

“You do not have to do
this,” he replied.  “But I must do something.”

“But we could stay in
the wormhole control center,” she pleaded.  “There is room enough there for a
lifetime of living.  For an eternity if we are cunning.  And we would be
shielded from the attentions of the central computer forever.”

“I know,” he said in
sorrow.  “And I would wish nothing more.  But I have greatly sinned against the
sentient species of the Galaxy.  Even if it was not the personality I now
possess, the last sight that many sentients saw was my laughing face as they
were killed by orders issued by my voice.  I must help their descendants to
rise again, though I give my life.”

“And you would attack
the computer on your own if I didn’t help, though an individual assault would
be hopeless?”

“Yes.  Though I knew I
would die as soon as I left the station.”

“Our odds aren’t much
better if we work together,” she said.  “I have never been afraid to die.  I
was always more afraid to live.  But I want to live now.”

“I want to live now
too, my Pandora,” said Watcher in a low voice.  “You are truly Pandora, for you
have let the secrets out of the box.  But I must make use of you to accomplish
this mission, as long as you are willing to be used.  You can say no, and I
will try on my own.”

“For certain death,”
she cried.  “I couldn’t live with that.  I love you, though I will never
understand you.  I am incapable of understanding you.  You are light years
beyond me, a superhuman.”

“I am human enough to
love you as well,” he said, the little half smile curving his lips.  “And I am
human enough to not let you die alone, if that is what will be.  I will be
there with you, to save you or to die with you, if that is our fate.”

Watcher’s arms enfolded
her as she fell into them.  His lips tenderly pressed to hers, in a kiss that
promised undying love.  A kiss that seemed to last forever.

“I am sorry,” he said
as he broke the sweet connection.  “I must show you the rest of your command,
and the tools you will use.”

From hot to cold in an
instant
,
she thought.  But then he had been created to be that way, and she knew the
feelings ran deeper than showed on the surface.  He really didn’t want her to
go, but she couldn’t run the wormhole gate control with sufficient artistry to
succeed, and he would surely die during the first phase of the mission.  While,
with him operating the gate controls, only a mistake on her part or the actions
of the central computer could lead to disaster.  Only.

Watcher took her hand
as he disentangled their embrace, leading her from the bridge toward the rear
of the ship.

*    *    *

Most of the stuff
wouldn’t have fit her description of machinery.  In fact, most of it looked
like solid masses of crystal.  She wondered how much of the equipment she had
seen on the station was of similar construction, and how anyone ever repaired
such machinery. 
Probably nanobots
, she thought, working on the
molecular level on machinery of a macroscopic construction.

“I hope I don’t have to
make repairs,” she said, her gaze falling on a quartet of large crystal globes
suspended from the ceiling.

“Those are the inertial
compensators,” said Watcher.  “If you have to repair them you’re dead in
space.”

“They’re smaller than I
would have thought.  How do they work?”

“I’m afraid I would
have to delve into physics beyond your time to tell you,” Watcher said.  “Maybe
later.  I would love to bring you up to speed on our tech when we have time.”

He led the way through
another hatchway, into a large room that carried a number of large ducts and
tubes.  Pandi kept a wide berth of some of those tubes, marked as they were the
universal symbol of hard radiation, unchanged since her time.  Tube and ducts
all led into the mirror surface of a wormhole, this one in a heavier frame than
most she had seen.

“This is the heart of
the passive stealth system,” said Watcher.  “Waste heat and radiation is
conducted through here and dumped into the wormhole.”

“Where does it go?”

“Into the great heat
sink in the sky.”

“The black hole?”

“Not directly into it. 
That would open up a suction that you wouldn’t believe.  The entire ship would
be pulled into it. But close enough to the event horizon that almost all of it
gets pulled in.  Almost nothing is radiated from beyond the skin of the ship.”

“And I don’t have to
stew in the heat and radiation the active systems of the ship are putting out
around me.”

“Correct,” he said. 
“Now let me show you your personal equipment.”

*    *    *

The main airlock and
its commodious lockers were closer to the nose of the ship.  Other vessels were
nestled here.  Much too large for what they had in mind.  Watcher opened one of
the lockers and pulled a space suit from it.  Another locker revealed the armor
that fit over the slender suit, while another revealed the backpack that
completed the setup.

“This is an armored
assault suit,” he said.  “It will give you quite a bit more protection than the
suit you came on the station in.”

“Probably completely
invulnerable, right?” she asked with a smile.

“Unfortunately we have
yet to come up with anything invulnerable,” he replied.  “Though we have come
close.  The armored panels that attach to the suit are made of the same
superstrong materials as the station itself.  The strongest material known to
our science.  It can withstand a hit from almost any kind of small projectile,
as well as massive concentrations of radiation.”

“And larger
projectiles?”

“Anything over a hundred
kilograms traveling at high velocity would kill you from the energy transfer,
even if it doesn’t penetrate the suit.”

Watcher assembled the
suit components as he continued the tour, pointing out the attributes of the
assembly.

“The suit itself will
give you air and environmental control for up to sixty days,” he said.  “It
also recycles your water, and has a nutrient syrup that will feed you for
several weeks, though it won’t fill your stomach.”

“Well,” she said,
“that’s at least one concern off my mind.  If I can’t finish this job in two
weeks I’ve failed.”

“I’m glad your sense of
humor is still with you.  The helmet gives you complete active and passive
sensor arrays, with full computer support.  The suit also incorporates a full
inertialess drive unit within the backpack.  It makes the suit into a miniature
spaceship for all intents and purposes.”

“How much like a
miniature spaceship?”