The Forever Hero (76 page)

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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

BOOK: The Forever Hero
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Cling
.

“EDI traces in destination area.”

“Display on main screen. Note deviation from system plane.”

From what the sensors could pick up, there were three corvettes and a light cruiser orbiting Old Earth.

“All for poor old me?”

“Inquiry imprecise.”

“Stet. It's very imprecise.”

“Please reformulate.”

“Disregard.”

“Disregarding imprecise inquiry.”

He wiped his forehead with the back of his right hand. Would the same general strategy work twice?

He smiled. If it did, it would certainly play Hades with Imperial tactics manuals. And the reentry path he had planned would leave communications a bit ragged. Ships weren't supposed to split the planetary polar force lines.

He touched the command keyboard to put the Imperial frequencies back on the ship's speakers.

“…negative on incoming this time…verify reported velocity…”

“…can't be human at that…”

“Please restrict transmissions to tactical objectives, Hotshots one and two.”

“Stet, restricting.”

Gerswin boosted the ship's angle to the system plane. In-system, paradoxically, it was easier, with less dust. Too bad you couldn't jump-shift that close to a sun.

Given the ship dispersion around the planet, and the position of the lunar relays, the three corvettes, but not the cruiser, might have a shot at him. But not as much as they anticipated, not unless they wanted to have tacheads detonating in Old Earth's upper atmosphere. Gerswin doubted that the Emperor, even the current Emperor, would approve of the uproar that could cause.

“Eye Cee, this is Hotshot three. Tentative target acquisition through optical distortion scanners. Bearing two seven five relative. Mean radian seven zero.”

Gerswin swung the scout another ten degrees and began deceleration.

“Hotshot three, cleared to fire.”

“Range to contact.” Gerswin swallowed.

“Seven emkay.”

His fingers ran over the console. For all practical purposes, he was going to have to decelerate from his present velocity to damned near nothing if he wanted to get down in one piece. With the corvettes on station, the simple business of establishing orbit, then determining descent, was shot to Hades.

That meant the distances he was now covering in minutes would take more like a half an hour, giving the Eye group more chances, and requiring more evasion than he would have liked.

He keyed in a near-random deceleration schedule and waited, listening, as the scout began to slow.

Abruptly, the forward screens flared and blanked.

“Range and distance?” inquired Gerswin, feeling the sweat on his forehead, and waiting for the transmissions that would tell him, because of the transmission lag, after the fact.

“Spread pattern, three detonations. Nearest approximately point zero four emkay at one seven zero.”

The pilot wiped his forehead, still waiting for the Imperial transmissions.

“Eye Cee, Hotshot three. Target acquisition remains tentative. Deceleration pattern not within analyzer parameters.”

“Hotshot three, fire when possible. Use best approximations.”

In the static between transmissions, Gerswin adjusted his course “downward” and away from a direct intercept with the corvette, increasing the deceleration more steeply than on his original plan. He shifted his weight to get more comfortable in the two gees riding on him.

The screens cleared, only to blank with another flare.

“Eye Cee, spread one missed. Estimate error of point zero three emkay. Reassessing track.”

“Hotshot three, fire when able.”

“Hotshot two, this is Eye Cee, interrogative arrival point delta.”

“Eye Cee, two here. Estimate arrival delta in ten plus.”

“Four estimates arrival in one five.”

Gerswin calculated. If point delta were where he estimated, then neither of the other corvettes would be that much of a problem. Hotshot four might not be a factor at all.

“Eye Cee, spread two away.”

Gerswin grimaced. The captain of three was delaying his reports to throw Gerswin off by more than the transmission delay lag.

“Range and distance?” he asked the AI.

“Point zero three emkay. Zero one zero relative.”

For the third time, the screens blanked. This time the scout shivered.

Gerswin wiped his forehead and frowned, ignoring the extra effort it cost him under the gee load. The captain of Hotshot three was better, far better, than he would have liked. He turned the ship farther from the corvette than he really wanted to, and increased the deceleration further, squinting at the increased flow of sweat from his forehead.

Gerswin gambled and eased the
Caroljoy
all the way back to a head-to-head course with the corvette, but left the deceleration untouched.

“Eye Cee, spread three impacted near target, but prior scanner data indicated target still on possible reentry course.”

“Stet, three.”

“Hotshot two, Eye Cee. Interrogative target acquisition.”

“Eye Cee, negative this time.”

Gerswin squared himself in the shell and keyed in three minutes of maximum deceleration, trying to keep his mind clear and picturing mentally the changing relative positions.

“Eye Cee, this is Hotshot three. Reported lost optical distorter scan. We may have reacquired. Say again. May have reacquired. Target managed to obtain decel below tracking parameters.”

“…what in Hades is that scout?…”

“Please restrict transmissions to mission!”

Gerswin stopped the deceleration totally, breathing deeply in normal gravity, and hoping that the corvette had managed to lock in at maximum deceleration. He watched the seconds unroll on the tactical clock.

The exterior screens blanked. The interior lights flickered and dimmed, before resuming their normal intensity. A series of red point lights flared on the systems status display, then faded. All but two.

“Damage report!”

“Screen shock impact at two. Auxiliary power buffer inoperative. Secondary screen generator status delta.”

Gerswin scanned the systems board, rechecked the
Caroljoy
's relative and absolute velocities, then squared himself for another two minutes of maximum deceleration. If he had calculated correctly,
if
, then he would need only another two-minute maximum decel just before the near right angle polar reentry path he had plotted.

“Eye Cee, this is three. Report final spread impacted target screens. Target screens held to plus five.”

“Plus five? Interrogative plus five.”

“Affirmative, Eye Cee. That is affirmative.”

“…what that thing riding…”

“Please restrict transmissions to target net.”

“Hotshot two, this is Eye Cee. Interrogative target acquisition. Interrogative target acquisition.”

“Acquisition negative. No EDI tracks. Optical distortion scanners down. Down as reported two days previous.”

Gerswin smiled as the deceleration load lifted. The bitterness in Hotshot two's transmission told more than the words used in the transmission.

He recalculated. From his plot, Hotshot four would not be in in
tercept position, except for less than a ten-second window, and two had no way to track him, provided he did not remain on a steady course.

With that self-reminder, Gerswin tapped in a series of random length zigzag course changes to position the
Caroljoy
erratically over the next several minutes.

Finally, he fed it into the AI.

“Suggest changes as noted on the data screen,” the AI commented.

Gerswin studied the changes and nodded, then incorporated them into the reentry codes. While he would have liked to make the final descent personally, the timing was too tight. So the AI would have to handle it, until the
Caroljoy
was well within the atmospheric envelope.

“Hotshot two, this is three. Data indicates target will be zero one zero relative to you at point three emkay in one minute from mark. Fire spread delta…MARK!”

“Damn him…too damned good,” muttered Gerswin as he changed course again and keyed in twenty seconds of acceleration at half max.

Wheeeeeee…

Before the acceleration ended, the ship staggered, and the cockpit dropped into the red gloom of the emergency lighting system.

Thud…thud…

The two jerks of an EMP shock wave slammed Gerswin against his harness.

The status board was half-red. As Gerswin focused his attention on the systems, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the throbbing in his head, some of the lights turned green. A good ten shifted to amber, and five remained in the red.

“Damage and status!”

“Secondary screen generator omega. Primary and secondary power buffer systems omega. Grav systems delta. EDI omega…”

Gerswin ignored the rest of the damages. The
Caroljoy
was sound enough to make it down, provided nothing else was thrown at him.

He shook his head slowly, afraid to move suddenly.

“Eye Cee, this is two. Fired on mark from Hotshot three. Detonation, but no instrumentation.”

“Eye Cee, three here. Impact at less than point zero zero five emkay. Target screens held to plus seven.”

“…holy Istvenn…”

Gerswin ignored the Imperial byplay, since neither corvette could fire again without risking planetside damage, and strapped himself more tightly than before.

“Eye Cee, this is Hotshot four. Have target acquisition, but unable to deploy without possible damage orbit control.”

“Stet, four. Hold until able to fire.”

“Three here. Four cannot hold. By the time orbit control is clear, target will be in reentry.”

Gerswin smiled reluctantly under the gee force at the captain of Hotshot three. He never seemed to give up.

“Four, continue to hold until you can deploy without damage to Old Home or orbit control.”

“Four, holding.”

Gerswin looked at the controls as the gee force went from half maximum to more than seven gees, jamming him back into the couch.

“Commencing reentry program.”

“Eye Cee, this is Hotshot three. Target commencing reentry on max-gee curve through main magfield taps.”

“…said scout wasn't human…”

“…one squadron not enough…”

eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Gerswin winced at the high-frequency static pouring from the speakers, the noise created by his own unique reentry path.

For the following five to ten minutes, most atmospheric communications in the northern hemisphere of Old Earth were going to be difficult, if not impossible.

Instead of fighting the sound, he shifted his attention to the readouts, ready to override the AI if necessary.

The pressure across his chest began to ease, as did the screeching on the comm bands, replaced with a deeper and less intense growling that began to fade as he caught scattered fragments of the Imperials' communications.

“…unique reentry…”

“…alert Eye Cee…possible planetside follow-up…”

“…nothing like…”

“…orbit control…track…interrogative track…”

“…negative…this time…”

“…lunar relay…position inaccurate…”

The transmissions became fainter and fainter.

“Reentry complete,” announced the AI.

Gerswin sat forward and checked the coordinates against those for the Euron retreat, nodding at the relatively short distance remaining. His head ached, and his ears still rang.

Then he tapped in the last courses, monitoring both the course line and the far screens as the scout edged toward the hidden bunker that had waited so long. The bunker from which the
Caroljoy
could never rise.

“Time to touchdown?”

“Estimate five plus.”

He watched the waves beneath on the screen, and then the blotched land that alternated between golden grass, scattered trees, and purple clay and its matching scraggly purple grass.

“Homer is on.”

“Descent path clear.”

Gerswin mumbled the landing points to himself, slowly easing the black scout through the concealed bunker door and down the tunnel and into the hangar. Scarcely a fitting grave for the scout.

“Gates closed.”

He sighed, letting his muscles relax for a moment before releasing the harness.

“What now?”

“Inquiry imprecise. Please clarify.”

“What do I do now?”

The AI said nothing, as if it had not heard his clarification.

“About the ship, about you…doubt I'm coming back. May use the flitters…no energy left…not to speak of…nowhere to go…”

He wondered why he was talking as he did, but it seemed almost as if he were trying to justify what he said, what he was going to do.

“Terminate.”

Terminate? The single coolly feminine word hung in the control room. Had the AI actually said terminate?

“Please clarify.” This time, the pilot asked for the clarification.

“Energy reserves insufficient for continued full-status operation. Pilot has expressed no further need for ship and AI. Therefore, suggest full shutdown and AI termination.”

“Why?”

“No further purpose for ship. Ship cannot be lifted. Cannot be repaired.”

He swallowed hard. How could he feel sentimental about a chunk of metal and electronics? Even if he had built it? Even if it had been home, on and off, for a century?

“Request AI recommendation for optimal outcome for AI.”

“Termination optimal outcome for AI. Pilot has expressed no further need for AI. Ship cannot use AI. No remaining function for AI.”

How could he do otherwise, practically and in fairness?

“You left everyone else, didn't you?”

Neither he nor the AI answered the question, as, hands trembling, he began the series of codes that would fulfill the only request the AI and ship had ever made. The only request.

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