Parker's Folly (44 page)

“No problem, Babe,” Bear replied, emptying the last of his HE rounds in the direction of the tunnel entrance. Then, almost sadly, he turned and galloped after the humans, back to the safety of the ship.

* * * * *

At the port cargo hold door, the two crewmen were boosting the last of the Marines up the ten meters to the cargo hold door. They had already passed Cpl. Sizemore's body to those on board. With the Marines on board, Lt. Curtis assisted the crewmen and then signaled JT. “Come on, snake eater. Your next.”

“You'll get no argument from me,” JT replied, running toward the Lieutenant. She crouched down and made a stirrup with her gloved hands. JT raised his left leg without breaking stride and stepped into Gretchen's cradling hands. Gretchen stood and flipped the massive soldier through the opening above. “Gotta love that low G,” he called from above.

“OK, Bear. Get your ass on board.” Without a word, Bear turned, took two galloping strides and lept through the hold door. Gretchen was now alone outside the ship—as mission commander she had sworn to be the last one back on board. Looking aft, she noticed a familiar blue shimmer across the docking bay's entrance. “Bridge, Lt. Curtis. We may have a complication.”

“What would that be, Lieutenant?” came the Captain's immediate reply.

“I think the aliens have turned on a force field blocking our way out. That blue glow behind the ship is similar to the barrier we ran into inside the station. I don't know how strong it is but, having seen what that one did to one of our armored suits, I wouldn't want to try just flying through it.”

“Roger that, Lieutenant. We'll handle it. Now get on board so we can depart.”

“Aye aye, Sir.” Gretchen stepped several meters away from the side of the ship and then ran toward the open hold door at a 40
º
angle. Performing the
J
type approach favored by Fosbury floppers,
she arrived beneath the openin
g and launched her body vertically, thrusting her arms and one knee upward. Twisting in flight, Gretchen passed over the door's
lower lip head first, sailing across the threshold on her back.  Clearing
the entrance by a good half a meter the Lieutenant landed on her back on the cargo hold deck.

“Boarding party all on board or accounted for. Close the cargo hold door and get us out of this dump.”
If I had done that on Earth
it would have been a new world record,
she mused,
not that I could
have done that under normal gravity
.
We may be running for our lives from homicidal aliens but man, I really love this job.

“Gunners, fire on anything that moves,” the Captain ordered. Now that his people were all on board they could spray the station with high energy X-rays without endangering anyone—anyone except the aliens. In front of the central column, ranks of spiders and crab-things flared white hot. The rushing hoard of hostile creatures melted away, as insubstantial as fog on a bright summer's day.

“Helm, raise the ship so we are halfway between the two plates. Prepare to back us out smartly when I signal.”

“Aye, Captain,” replied Bobby. Billy Ray was manning the forward battery, prepared to send the station's denizens a parting gift as they left.

“Gunners, switch your control to the rear X-ray batteries. I want you to target the lips of both plates. Cut away the edge of the plates until that glowing blue curtain disappears. Fire!”

“Aye aye, Sir,” Melissa replied for the impromptu gunnery crew. As she spoke, bright spots appeared along the edges of both upper and lower dock surfaces, burning brilliant white like magnesium flares. As the X-ray lasers played back and forth across the limits of the alien dock, explosions sent fans of sparks into the space between the plates. Glowing wisps of vaporized metal danced in the roiling space at the mouth of the bay and whole chunks of dock material broke off and spun away into the void.

The sheet of blue that barred their way rippled and tore, as though a fountain waterfall had been turned off. In seconds the cascade of energy vanished, leaving only the blackness of space behind the ship. “Helm, reverse one eighth, get her out of here. Mr. Vincent, give them something to distract from our departure.”

“Aye, Captain!” Billy Ray pressed the firing button for the forward rail guns as the landing bay rushed away from them. There was only time for a single volley, but the effect was still gratifying: the slug from the port gun passed through the tunnel, crossed the central shaft and blew a large crater in the shaft wall; the slug from the right gun struck the column wall just to the right of the tunnel opening, burrowed partway through the core wall and vaporized a large chunk of the structure.

Bobby performed another of his tight end-over-end flips and streaked away from the carnage behind them. Plasma and vaporized material from the right slug formed a plume that erupted from the docking bay where Folly had exited just seconds before. The grin on Bobby's face threatened to reach his ears, while Billy Ray looked quite pleased with himself as well.

“All ahead flank, Mr. Danner. Put the planet between us and that station as soon as you can,” the Captain ordered. “You might wish to add some random evasive maneuvers to our course.”
I don't know if they have any weapons capable of hitting us, but there is no reason to take any chances.

“Gunners, stand down and place your weapons in automatic self-defense mode. And my congratulations on a job well done.” The Captain smiled at both of the lady gunners.
I doubt the regular gun crew could have done a better job. I think I have been underutilizing some of my personnel assets.

For their part, both Jolene and Melissa were beaming. Next time in the lounge, instead of listening to everyone else's tales of adventure and daring-do, they would have some tales of their own to add.

“Lt. Curtis, Bridge. How much longer until detonation?”

“By my count we have just over 17 minutes, Captain.”

Susan sat alone in silence. Nothing moved in the egg room during the half hour since the others left. She kept waiting for her life to pass before her eyes, but the stream of autobiographical memories never came. No “this is your life,” no film at eleven.

Like most young people, Susan never gave death much thought—particularly not the possibility of her own death. With a career barely started and a private life that, until a few days ago, was a chaotic shambles, death did not enter the picture—she simply had too much left to do. Funny, all those plans she had were thrown out the window when she and JT boarded a strange spaceship in an old man’s dirigible hanger.

That simple act led to adventure beyond her wildest dreams: a trip to the Moon and beyond, battles with hostile aliens, and even a real romance among the stars. The Captain had made a remark when they first found themselves in alter-space, something about “arriving somewhere but not here.” Later, Billy Ray explained that the phrase was the title of a song by Porcupine Tree, a group she had never heard of. He recited the chorus for her and it came back to her now.

All my designs, simplified
And all my plans, compromised
All my dreams, sacrificed

The words seemed so prophetic. Certainly her life was simplified when she was trapped on board Parker's Folly. And all her plans had been compromised, swept away by events beyond her control. Even so, that didn't make life bad. Instead, she found new and unlikely friends like Gretchen and Ludmilla, and of course, Billy Ray.

But now, as though the song's lyrics were part of some ancient curse, the half formed dreams she had of a happier future were about to be sacrificed—finally and irrevocably. Her vision began to blur as the tears she had managed to hold off welled up in her eyes.

Mom and Dad, I hope you were right and I get to see you again in heaven,
she thought, as close to praying as she could bring herself.
If I have to blow up the station myself is that suicide? They always taught that suicide was a sin.
Maybe God will let me say hi before sending me to hell.
Through the watery shimmer, movement drew her attention back to the here and now.

Beyond the blue veil that held her captive, a spider, then two more moved in front of the egg room opening.
Oh God, no!
She checked the timer.
They are five minutes early, can't they even let me die on schedule?

The blue force screen disappeared.

Susan gripped the manual detonator, squeezing the arming trigger. Tears forgotten, she watched as red LEDs blinked into life on the explosives positioned about the antimatter storage room. They seemed almost festive, winking on to wish her a fond farewell. The spiders entered the chamber.

Well this is it, my final sign-off,
she thought,
I hope the ship is far enough away
. With that, she stood up and shouted out loud, “I love you Billy Ray!”

Susan pressed the plunger.

Time passed with nerve shredding slowness on the bridge. Lengthened by anticipation, each subsequent second seemed to take longer than its predecessor. Behind the accelerating ship the alien space station was hidden by the bulk of the dead planet it orbited. Folly's arcing course had skimmed the planet's atmosphere and carried the fleeing earthlings nearly 90,000 kilometers away from the malevolent space mushroom.

Glancing at the control panel, Jack marked the countdown timer.
Roughly five minutes to detonation, I hope 150,000 km will be far enough away. We really don't know how much of a bang the antimatter will make, only that it should be big.

Most of the crew was watching the view behind the ship on their station monitors. The planet receded as they waited for the expected explosion yet, when it came, it took most by surprise in its suddenness, light flaring from screens across the bridge. The aft camera quickly compensated for the sudden blossoming of light, rendering a more useful view of the event. Beta Comae had just become a double star.

While the others silently marveled at the titanic explosion Jack's worried thoughts were a bit different.
It went four minutes early! I hope we are far enough away to not be incinerated.
“Helm, reduce engines to ahead one half. Engineering, divert power to the rear shields.”

Sure enough, as the sleeting radiation and hailstorm of subatomic particles enveloped the ship alarms began to sound. At the engineering station Freddy Adams called out. “Captain, the rear shields are starting to fail. They are down to 60%...50%...40%...”

“Helm, engines stop—flip the ship end-over-end. Now!”

Bobby's hands danced on the helm controls as he replied, “aye aye, Sir!” The ship shuddered and the klaxon sounded a warning as the combination of shock wave and sudden maneuvering overloaded the gravity compensators. Rising in front of the ship was a brilliant white star many times larger than the dark planetary disk eclipsing it. The transparent panels in the ship's nose automatically darkened to keep the crew from being blinded.

As they watched, a shock front could be seen racing across the face of the planet, advancing from all sides toward the point on the globe farthest from the explosion's origin.  The fiery wave scoured the surface of the dead world, the untouched portion shrinking ever smaller and finally disappearing. “If it wasn't a dead planet before, it surely is one now,” Billy Ray observed.

“Man,” Bobby added. “That was more intense than the last time I played Space Station 13. More damage too.”

“Are the shields holding, Mr. Adams?” the Captain demanded.
If they fail we will be as dead as that newly incinerated and twice cursed world.

“Sir, the forward shields have dropped to 70%... and are holding.” The relief in Freddy's voice was palpable. “If that was the worst of it, then we are going to be alright.”

The explosion, fury spent, turned into a glowing nimbus surrounding the unnamed world, that world itself a burning ember. Perhaps in a thousand years the planet's gravity would reclaim most of the atmosphere that had just been blown into space, along with much of the water boiled from its seas. Millennia from now, if humanity survives, the planet might be given another chance. The seeds of life could be brought to begin anew on that poor tortured globe.

The Captain sat back in the command chair, tension easing.
If we are going to continue this interstellar buccaneering we will need to have stronger shields—and better armaments. Interesting that the explosion went off earlier than Gretchen said, it's unlike Lt. Curtis to make such a mistake.

Jack was just about to call her when the ship's computer, in the small, intimate voice it used when speaking for the Captain's ears alone, said, “Captain, we have a situation in the cargo hold.”

The body of Cpl Sizemore had been taken away to join those of PFC Davis and Tommy Wendover in the medical section morgue, and atmospheric pressure restored to the hold. The boarding party personnel had removed their helmets, including Kondratov. No one paid much attention to the Russian Colonel once the cargo door was secured and the ship underway—after all, the Chief had disarmed him on arrival.

Unfortunately, while the others were busy stowing equipment and taking stock of the situation, Ivan had time to retrieve the two demolition charges he had gotten from the recently deceased Tommy. Before anyone noticed, he affixed the shaped charges to the nearest large egg and pulled out the detonator. Lt. Curtis saw him first, standing arm raised, clutching the detonator in his gloved hand with an expression of triumph on his face. “Colonel, what are you doing?” She asked.

Sensing from the tone of her voice that something was very wrong the others turned to stare at the Russian. When he was sure he had their attention, Ivan squeezed the detonator, causing the charges to activate. As the explosives' indicators lit, glowing a malevolent red, the Colonel shouted: “Drop your weapons or I will destroy the ship!”