Retreat And Adapt (A Galaxy Unknown) (22 page)

"That sounds sensible to me, Evelyn. All in favor?"

Again, the vote was unanimous.

"I guess that covers the matter for now," Moore said. "I remind everyone not to mention this project outside this hall."

* * *

"Come," the commanding officer of the Jupiter foundry said. The doors opened, permitting his chief engineer to enter the office. "What's up, Sal?"

"Sir, I was just reviewing this new parts requisition from SHQ. What is this thing?"

"The specs just call it a cap."

"A cap for what, sir?"

"I don't know, Sal, but the specs look complete. Is there a problem with producing it?"

"No, sir. We can make it alright, but it might help if I knew its purpose. I'd hate to make fifteen thousand of these things and then learn that someone down the line had gotten the specs wrong."

"I don't know much more than what was contained in the work order you received, but the production order I received was approved by the AB. How soon can you deliver them?"

"It'll probably take about a month to set up the process and jigs, and then we'll have to see where we can work it into the production schedule."

"This has top priority, Sal."

"Ahead of production for ship hull components, sir?"

"Ahead of
everything
, Sal. My orders were marked, 'Most Urgent.'"

"Then we really should confirm the design specs, sir. I'd hate to waste a couple of months if they need this thing so badly— whatever it is."

"Sal, I'm not going to the Admiralty Board and suggest that they don't know what they're doing."

"Uh— I didn't mean that, sir."

"I can't imagine that asking for confirmation of specs they provided could be viewed any other way, unless you've found a discrepancy in the specs."

"The only thing that doesn't make sense is why they need something like this. It doesn't seem to fit in with anything else we manufacture. And why do they need such a great quantity?"

"How do you know it doesn't fit with something else we produce?"

"I had the design computer try to find any possible link to our manufactured items. The results were zero. I also asked our system to check the SHQ Central Design Systems database on Earth to see who might have created the specs. The results there were also zero."

"You went outside our facility with this without permission?"

"Uh— yes sir. There's no confidentiality statement on the specs."

"That's because it's so top secret they didn't want to include a statement that would draw more attention to it."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"My fault, Sal. I should have communicated that information to you verbally. We'll just have hope it doesn't come back to bite us on the arse. Well, all I can say is that the AB ordered us to make it, provided the specs, and gave us the quantity they need. So let's do what they order with all possible speed, and if there's a problem with the specs, we're in the clear."

"Yes, sir. I hope so."

* * *

"New orders, Jasson," Commander Marc Hodenfield, Captain of the
Rio Grande
said when his XO, Lt. Commander Jasson Lister, arrived for their morning briefing.

"About time, sir. We're all getting a little jumpy sitting out here without an envelope built. I keep expecting to hear the GQ message when I'm not on the bridge because some of those nasty buggers have located us."

"Well, if being twenty-five light-years from their last reported position hasn't made you feel safer, the new orders certainly won't."

Lister scrunched up his face and said, "I don’t much like the sound of that, sir."

Hodenfield actually smiled a little. "Relax, XO. Even though we're headed back to their location, we should be safe enough from those missile barrages of theirs. We're to start keeping an eye on them, effective immediately."

"How close an eye, sir?"

"The new orders assign the
Rio Grande
and the
Mekong
to perform Light- 9790 flybys every four hours on an alternating schedule at the most distant DeTect range possible. It's simply to verify their continued presence at the location. If they move, we're to report their new location every thirty minutes."

"Is something up, sir? I mean, the Standing Orders were to avoid them at all costs, and now they're sending us in to keep an eye on them."

"All I know is what I've just told you. But there must be a reason why they want to keep an eye on that mother ship. Maybe HQ has developed a plan of attack."

"As long as it doesn’t involve us performing a suicide run against that mother ship, I'm all for it."

"Don't worry, Jasson. If Admiral Carver orders the
Rio Grande
to undertake a suicide mission, I'll give everyone on board an opportunity to transfer to the
Mekong
or another ship not involved in the attack before we go in."

"Are you serious, sir? You'd take the ship on a suicide run?"

"If Admiral Carver orders us in, I go. I know she wouldn't order it unless it was necessary. She'd never throw us to the wolves without damn good reason."

"Well, if
she
orders it, sir, I volunteer. For the same reasons."

"Let's just hope it's never necessary. Okay, let's head back to the last position of that alien ship."

* * *

"Commander," the technician at one of the thirty-six scanning consoles in the Approach and Departure Center said, "I just spotted that anomaly again."

This was the heart of the base station. Fully manned every minute of every day, the technicians watched for anything that might represent danger to
Exovadan
.

Commander Blithallo, who spent his shift roaming around and looking over the shoulders of his staff, moved behind the technician reporting the anomaly again and stared at the screen.

"I don't see anything unusual."

"It only appears for a second and then disappears again."

"What's its direction and speed?"

"I'm not even sure it's moving, Commander. It's just there and then it's not there. It's not there long enough to change position."

"It has to be this alien technology we've begun using. When we were given this DeTect system, we were told it was the most sophisticated distant warning equipment available."

"It has quadrupled the distance we've been able to monitor, sir. And we've verified that it's the same exact equipment Space Command is using in their newest warships."

"That doesn't mean it's the best possible system. I'm sure that, in time, our scientists will be able to improve on it."

"Yes, sir. Our scientists are the best in the universe."

"That they are. I'm only surprised that these disgusting Terrans managed to come up with something before we did."

"I'm sure it was purely by accident, sir."

"No doubt. Have you performed a self-test on this console?"

"Yes, sir. Twice. I discovered no malfunction."

"Interesting that it seems to be isolated to this one console. That might mean there's a problem with this unit, or it might mean that the contact isn't moving and only appears occasionally due to the distance. In any event, I'll notify the city fathers and let them decide what action should be taken. Good work. Keep watching and recording all incidences."

~ February 6
^th
, 2287 ~

Nicole Ravenau was ten months into her transformation. The pain had subsided sufficiently that the medication was now able to suppress it for much of the day. She was also able to sleep through the night now unless a dream or nightmare caused her to move suddenly.

The underground complex had all of the amenities of a five-star hotel, but Ravenau was bored, and she spent her days planning her return to the Raider Corporation and plotting her revenge against Strauss for having forced her into this exile and isolation.

It was doubtful that anyone in the district even knew Ravenau was on the planet. Pelomious was still sparsely populated, and the complex had been completed and then sealed more than a decade ago. Crop dusting oh-gee vehicles probably overflew the ten thousand hectare tract, but the only structure they'd see was a small dilapidated shack designed to draw attention away from the real access point. When approaching the home, a large, camouflaged plasticrete pad could raise up to reveal the entrance to the underground domicile. After the oh-gee vehicle had disappeared below ground, the plasticrete pad settled back into place and all trace of the entrance was gone.

The underground complex included fifteen thousand square feet of living space and another fifteen thousand square feet for garage space, power generation, and storage. Ravenau had always enjoyed wide open spaces and would have felt claustrophobic in anything smaller.

There was enough food cryo'd in the storage areas to feed an army for a lifetime, and the power plant would sustain the complex for a thousand lifetimes, which might be necessary now that Ravenau would live for five thousand years at a minimum.

Simage panels covered every wall throughout the complex and gave the impression of being above ground. Unlike Strauss, who preferred to look down on the 'little' people from great heights, Ravenau's images were from a third floor level so she could almost 'feel' the people around her. Throughout Ravenau's career, she had always been closely surrounded by the people whose lives she controlled, so most of the Simages were from casino towns where the action never stopped. She had a few scenes of unpopulated panoramic vistas, but it was very rare that she played any of them. The crowds in the Simages made her feel that she was still connected to the galactic experience.

Robot cleaners kept the home immaculate whether occupied or unoccupied, and Nicole had her choice of a dozen master bedrooms. Moving around helped reduce the feeling of sameness and isolation. The home received thousands of news and entertainment channels, and it would take a lifetime to read and view all of the books and movies in the residence's computer system.

Still, Ravenau was bored. The complex might be grand, but to someone used to always being on the go, it was almost like a prison. It wouldn't be so for much longer. Ravenau had made all the arrangements, and she would leave in another day. She had progressed far enough along on her transformation to be accepted as a male and would use the new ID prepared for just this trip. Some basic cosmetic alteration would ensure that no one aboard the passenger liner would ever recognize her after the trip ended.

She would probably spend the next two months in her cabin, but after that she would be able to socialize with the other travelers and enjoy the casinos and other features aboard ship.

* * *

"Helm, all stop," Lieutenant Kay Poulin said.

"All stop," the helmsman said as he stopped the creation of new envelopes but didn't cancel the current envelope.

"What is it tac?" Commander Marsh Osborne asked.

"Another possible hit, Captain."

"How many does this make?"

"The log indicates that this is number three hundred forty-six."

"Three hundred forty-five mini asteroids plus one more."

"This seems to have a more defined shape than any of the others I've seen, sir. But we won't know until we get closer."

"Well, let us hope it's the real thing. Helm, take us to ten kilometers. Tac, alert the chief engineer and notify the next shuttle pilot in the rotation."

"Aye, sir."

Five minutes later the helmsman announced, "Holding at ten kilometers from the target, Captain," as the scout-destroyer
Tagus
eased up on the contact and came to a stop.

"Tac, anything on the DeTect?"

"The screens are clear, sir."

"Helm, cancel the envelope. Tac, clear the shuttle for launch."

"Aye, sir," both said as they complied.

In the shuttle bay, Lieutenant Remus completed the walk-around and entered the small ship. The engineering personnel were already aboard and preparing their equipment. By the time the shuttle was ready to launch, CPO Caine was suited up in his EVA suit.

As the shuttle approached the three-meter-long contact, Caine cycled the airlock and was ready to disembark when Remus halted the small ship five hundred meters away.

Using suit jets, Caine maneuvered to within five meters. He took a deep breath as he activated the suit's cameras and then circled the device slowly, visually examining every square millimeter. There was no doubt whatsoever that this was one of the objects they had been seeking for months.

"
Tagus
, we've found one. Are you receiving the images?"

"Affirmative. Proceed."

"Roger."

As Caine moved to within arm's length of the unit, he aimed a small sensory device. Panning the device up and down slowly, he again circled the contact slowly. When he had completed the task, he had detailed images of the construction and an analysis of radiation emissions. Using his suit helmet's playback capabilities to view the images just recorded by the sensory device, Caine again visually examined every millimeter of the rocket.

"Specialist Stevens," Caine said to his man aboard the shuttle, "are you receiving this data?"

"Aye, Chief. I'm seeing everything you do."

"I spotted two tiny holes in the casing. They might be integral to the disassembly, but it's also possible that the warhead screws off."

"I concur, Chief."

"I'm going to attempt to loosen the warhead by unscrewing it in a clockwise direction."

Caine gripped the warhead tightly with his right hand and the body of the missile with his left, just below the point where he believed the warhead would separate. He took a deep breath and tried to twist with all his might.

"No joy," Caine said finally. "I'll try to twist it counterclockwise."

After straining without success, Caine let go of the missile.

"No joy," Caine said again, as he thought about the problem. "I'm going to assume that the two holes in the casing are part of the release mechanism. I'll try inserting a ceramic probe into the top hole.

Caine took the tool from his kit and stretched out his left hand to hold the missile steady. He then extended his right hand towards the hole closest to the warhead and aligned the tip of the ceramic probe with the hole but didn't insert it more than a millimeter. It was possible that inserting the probe would cause the warhead to explode, so before he committed himself, he reviewed everything in his mind. Unscrewing the warhead might still be the proper disassembly step. It's possible the freezing temperatures of space might be responsible for preventing the warhead from unscrewing from the missile. He wondered if he should try unscrewing the warhead again using a power device he had brought with him that could exert far more force than he could manually.