April 4: A Different Perspective (15 page)

"The plasma engine produces so much more thrust now, that the old designs, surely that would be much more efficient than using conventional rocket engines," April protested.

"The plasma engine won't work in the atmosphere. Or rather it would work until you land and shut it off. You can't restart it without a pretty decent vacuum. Even if you could initiate the required ionization the components would burn up in an oxygen atmosphere before it flushed itself clean. I suppose if you designed the throat narrow enough you could maintain the engine at an idle and keep the atmosphere swept out of the reaction chamber. Like an old diffusion pump. But it would be awkward unloading or loading, with the exhaust running cutting a hole in the pavement so close at ten or fifteen percent power. and you couldn't do that for more than a few minutes. The plasma drive is way more efficient, but it does still use up reactive mass. Just proportionally less of it."

"Couldn't you pump down the drive chamber to vacuum to take off again?" Barak asked.

"Not with a big hole where the exhaust goes out," Jeff explained. "It's like eight centimeters across right now. Nothing would pump it down against such an opening."

"Put a plug in it," Barak suggested.

Jeff just looked at him, mouth hanging open.

"If you crank that sucker back up at full power, I bet it blows the plug back out like it wasn't even there," Barak guessed.

"Robotic arm to slap a thin, domed, aluminum disk over the throat," Jeff said, nodding, "from a magazine of a half dozen or so disks, flush the chamber with argon to remove any oxygen, pump it down to a decent vacuum. Yeah, if you start it at a high enough power level the plasma would vaporize a thin throat cover like a sani-wipe," he agreed. "The drive
is
very much like a big plasma-arc cutting torch. How did you think of that?" Jeff demanded indignantly.

"It seemed obvious," Barak said and shrugged.

"If we need to start quickly you could have a tank that was open to vacuum in orbit. The internal volume of the ionization chamber is low, maybe two liters. We could reduce it with careful design. If you had say, a thirty liter tank, you could open a line to it and suck almost all the flush gas out of the chamber. That would take care of something like eighty percent of your pump-down. The tank would be wasted volume if you didn't need it, but wouldn't add that much weight at all since it would just hold vacuum." Jeff's eyes were focused off in the air, he likely had the whole thing half designed in his mind. "Or even seal it in orbit and land with aerobraking. Then you are ready to take off again immediately."

"Seems to me that Jeff is our detail man," April pointed out, smiling at Barak. "But Barak is really handy to have around to point out what is
obvious
. That reminds me. I was supposed to ask for Barak how hard it would be to move the whole of Mitsubishi 3 out of LEO and off far enough the Earthies would have more trouble shooting at us."

"Oh, he asked me himself quite a while ago. I have a process all written up to use four ships grappled at the south dockage to push us out of orbit. We would slow down the spin again like they did when they ducked behind the Rock. We should be able to switch over and move to a lunar orbit in a month," he assured her. "We can assume a halo orbit near L1 or better yet L2. We'd make a slow circle seeing mostly the far side, but a big enough circle to see the Earth past the moon. We wouldn't be tucked behind it. Trying to sit right on the Lagrange Point itself is too difficult. It's meta-stable and you constantly need to expend propellant to stay there. The most difficult part is likely to be convincing the Japanese owners to move their property."

* * *

The
Pagosa Springs
landed without any warning on Armstrong Field, as close to the mass of buildings as the pilot dared. That was very close indeed, less than six meters from the paved edge of the field and almost that close to the crater that intruded on the pavement from where the control tower and flight operations used to be.

Lieutenant Carlson had to dissuade Administrator Hartug from marching up to the nearest dome himself and demanding entry. When he suggested that was a good way to get his butt shot off Hartug gave him a look that said, 'they wouldn't dare'. He ignored the silence and spoke to the look, assuring him these fellows had defied the President's direct orders and irrationally dared far too much already.

Hartug frowned a tight lipped, irritated frown, but inclined his head yielding to Carlson.

"Very well. If you think there is real risk I'll defer to your judgment. I'm not keen to expose
your
people to unnecessary risk either however. I hope you will minimize your hazards?" he asked.

"If we wanted no risk at all we'd have just bombed the place from orbit and started over," Carlson pointed out. "That's our job to take
some
risk in order to salvage something of the situation. It's likely the number of people in actual rebellion is fairly low, but you can assume they are the ones in charge of the arms locker and communications equipment."

"How well are they armed compared to you?" Hartug asked. "I was not briefed on that."

"They had a dozen Tasers, six long guns and ten pistols. They also had four rocket propelled grenades than would take out light armor. Damned if I know why. Maybe somebody thought the Chinese would come overland and invade them. It was foolish and a hazard to our ship too."

"That seems most unlikely."

"I agree and I'm trained to be a professional paranoid. We expect the majority of those weapons were lost, when the Home people wiped out the rover force sent out to retrieve the personnel who left Armstrong without permission. Having only four RPGs I'd be shocked if they didn't take them all. But I'd be equally shocked and surprised if they didn't leave a few pistols to keep the rest of their people in line."

"What do you propose to do then?"

"Use our force to approach that larger building. It has antennas recently mounted on it so it must be the replacement for the field dome that was destroyed. We are armored up and pretty much immune to small arms. Let us secure the building and we'll bring you in when we are sure nobody is going to assault you," Carlson suggested.

"Very well. I can see that is your function. Just don't be too quick to resort to shooting. I'm here to tell them what the new arrangement is. If talking will resolve it, I'd like to talk. That's
my
function."

"I'll avoid conflict, if at all possible," Carlson assured him.

"Proceed then Lieutenant."

Carlson took four men, armored up, with carbines to approach the building. To look less aggressive, he had them sling the carbines on their back rather than carry them at the ready. He left a trooper aboard suited up and sealed, except his faceplate and left two  men with heavier weapons outside, to guard the ship. He checked again with the pilot before leaving the lock, but there was no radio communications on standard ship or suit frequencies.

The big building had a lock facing the field and paved parking marked off, but no rovers parked next to it. Loose regolith thrown from the crater was shoveled away from around the lock and a path to pavement, but along the wall it was still piled at the base. Nobody had started to back fill the big hole yet or repair the landing surface. Next to the lock was a small sign indicating it was temporary field control and communications, just as they had suspected. When he pushed the illuminated square that should have opened the lock, nothing happened.

Carlson dug in one of the many small pockets along the inside of his arm. He extracted a patch cord, plugging it in the back of his right hand and inserted the jack in the port alongside the lock controls. "Hello, in there. Is anyone monitoring the intercom?"

"Yes indeed and we see you on camera Lieutenant. I'm Jesse Silverson. I'm the current Armstrong administrator given the removal of the others."

"We are the security detail for Administrator Hartug, who is present on our vessel. We want to inspect the facilities and determine no threat exists to him, before we bring him in pressure to speak with you. I'd urge you to put any weapons in the arms locker and secure it locked before we bring him in. He is acting on orders direct from the President. I've read them myself."

"And what does he intend to do with us?"

"You best discuss that with him. I'm merely charged with keeping him safe. I don't speak for the man at all. Now will you unlock the controls here and allow us to inspect the administrative spaces?"

"No, I don't believe we want to do that," Silverson said, still polite. "We are aware the previous administrator removed was imprisoned and we still have no idea what charges he may face, but we are very aware he is being charged before the World Court even if no charges materialize before the USNA courts. Why should we submit ourselves to the same indefinite detainment and uncertain charges? You do intend to arrest us don't you?"

"I have no orders to arrest anyone. I'd expect that would depend on what you agree to do when you speak with Administrator Hartug. I'd only expect that if you were defiant and refuse to start accepting orders from President Wiggen. But locking us out is not a good start."

"And yet we have that World Court case hanging over us still. I don't hear anyone denying its validity. I don't see how you can refuse to eventually arrest us, if you are delivering acting director Crawford up to the Europeans. The four sub-directors and three of our subordinates, all feel they will be betrayed. So we dare not submit."

"Be realistic. Your position is not tenable. You know we had to set aside your delivery of supplies to use the
Pagosa Springs,
so you are already behind on supplies and you are not self sufficient. If you defy us long enough we will set charges on the door and let ourselves in."

"That would be a public relations nightmare," Silverson warned. "Do you really want to be responsible for a massacre?"

"What exactly are you saying? You can suit up and we certainly wouldn't surprise you. You can't do my guys much damage with small arms. We're armored up. Are you threatening mass suicide?"

"If it was just we seven holed up here, yes. However, we have everyone gathered here. The entire of Armstrong. We did not however, allow them to keep their suits on. I fear by the time you force entry and come in, it will be far too late to sort them out and get everyone in gear."

"I have to talk to Mr. Hartug about that. I'll be back to you."

"You do that. We'll be right here."

Carlson considered using his radio, but they could listen in. "Fan out and keep a watch. Don't fire unless fired upon. I'll be right back."

It wasn't far to the ship. Seeing him returning Hartug was waiting inside the lock.

"They've taken hostages."

"Who are
they
?"

"I spoke to Jesse Silverson. He claimed to speak for all four directors who had administrative responsibilities. Also three of their underlings who have decided they cooperated sufficiently that they will be considered guilty too."

"Guilty? Nobody has charged them with a crime."

"No, but come on sir. They have net access and know their previous boss is sitting in prison after he was recalled, charges or no. It doesn't take much thinking on it, to see themselves joining him easily, they are aware of the international charges even if
we
have not charged them.  None of them believe you are going to give them a stern talking to and go away. I certainly never thought that either."

"Well this complicates things, that everyone has already decided what I shall do. Do you think they have the will to actually harm people they have lived and worked with long term?"

"Well like you said, the talking part is up to you. I came back without getting into any deep discussion with Director Silverson. I only spoke on audio com with him and you lose a lot not seeing a person face to face. He sounded disturbingly calm though. He indicated the hostages are all unsuited, so that if we blow pressure to get in they die."

"And what are their demands?"

"He didn't make any demands."

Hartug looked surprised for the first time. "That's bad. That's usually the
first
thing they announce and loudly. Perhaps it's time to let me speak to them. Don't you think?"

"That's why I came back," Carlson agreed. "You might try the radio. If they will speak to you on com, there's no need to go jack in at the lock like I did and expose yourself."

"I'll do that. Why don't you pull your men back, to create a less tense situation and I'll try speaking to them in about a half hour. I'd like to consult with some hostage negotiation experts at State and have a meal and make myself presentable before calling them."

"And let them sweat a little bit?"

"Perhaps that too."

* * *

The shuttle ride wasn't everything Eric expected. The motors didn't exactly roar and shake the vehicle wildly. It was more an oppressive hum and the vibration just made his nose tickle funny. The only person visibly terrified was his mother and she wasn't really any worse than when their dad took the car off automatic to take them to their grandpa's beach house.

Indeed most of the people looked bored. The fellow across the aisle from them had belted in immediately, promptly going to sleep and not stirred the least for the takeoff or transition  to free flight and rockets. The G forces hadn't been exactly crushing, but it was hard to imagine ever being so blasé about it you slept with your mouth hanging open, snoring through the whole thing.

His sister Lindsy pressed her lips in a thin disapproving line and glared at the man in perfect imitation of their mother when he stumbled aboard. Erin recognized the condition because he'd seen it in his uncle Mat on several occasions. His uncle Mat explained it was from too much fun. The funny solvent odor about him confirmed it was the same malady.

The motor cut off sharply and the cushions under him expanded back until the belts were snug again. His sister Lindsy made her squeaky mouse sound. He ignored it because she was always being dramatic about nothing. He looked however at the next noise. She had the bag from the seatback over her face and was gagging. They didn't allow them any breakfast so she couldn't have much of anything to bring up, but she kept trying a long time.