Troy Rising 3 - The Hot Gate (36 page)

“And that answers that question,” Dana said.

“This is…” Angelito said as they approached the target mirror.

The job was to pick up four mirrors and move them inward “merely” twice the distance from the earth to the moon. The problem being that the mirrors were two kilometers wide and, they had been told repeatedly, somewhat “fragile.” The grapnels had been installed with special rubber pads. She was still wondering if this was really going to work.

“Going to be interesting?” Dana said. “Think of it this way. If you break it, you and your family couldn’t pay for it in a couple of hundred years. Technically. The materials are worth a fortune. This one’s palladium backed for some reason. The actual manufacturing is cheap as dirt.”

“Okay, Flight,” Dana commed. “We need the shuttles to approach to within half a meter of your mirror and hold. Then we engage the grapnels. Get everyone in position, first. Can I get a readback on that?”

While Raptor took a group of four shuttles from another division to hook up to another set of mirrors, Dana had been left in charge of “her” division for the evolution.

The mirrors were nothing more than thin discs of glass with a thin “shiny” backing. They looked more than “somewhat” fragile. Moving them was going to be…interesting. Docking to them was going to be interesting.

She hoped none of the flight realized that if they accidentally-on-purpose broke a mirror—which would only require deviating about three percent from their targeted vector—it was not going to look good on her resume.

“Twenty-One, approach to half meter and hold, aye.”

She waited for the readback and considered the vectors one more time. The mirror was remarkably stable for its size and the local solar wind conditions. Of course, that was why it had stabilization paks. Which would need to be turned off as soon as they engaged power. She checked the positioning of all the shuttles then nodded.

“Engineers, on my mark you will engage grapnels to hard points. Grapnels power will be set to two percent of earth’s gravity. Readback on that.”

“Two percent earth gravity, aye,” Vila commed.

She set her own grapnels then pulled up the readings on the other shuttles.

“Sans,” she commed on a private circuit. “Two percent not one percent..”

“Roger, EM,” Sans commed back.

“Twenty-Two, restabilize,” Dana commed, rechecking positioning and settings of the grapnels. “You’re drifting.”

“Roger, EM,” Tarrago replied, correcting.

“And on my mark,” Dana commed. “Three…two…one…engage.”

The mirrors weighed two hundred tons. A Myrmidon weighed sixty tons.

It was more a matter of the Myrmidons moving to the mirrors than vice versa.

“Perfect,” Dana said. “And power up grapnels for a solid hold… Looking good. Now comes the fun part. On my mark engage five percent power on vector one-six-nine-four mark two. Readback…”

* * *

“Just fly the caret,” Dana said, softly.

She had the main screen split four ways, keeping tabs on all four of the shuttles. As normal when moving an object as a formation the coxswains were following a “caret” targeting reticule. Keeping at a precise drive all they had to do was “fly” to the caret.

It looked much easier than the reality.

“Tarro,” Dana said. “Watch that drift.”

“Watch the drift, aye,” Tarrago replied. “This is not easy, EM.”

“Been there, got the scars,” Dana said. “Just fly the caret. We call this ‘good training.’ ”

“Good training for what?” Palencia commed. “Moving mirrors?”

“Combat training?” Dana said. “I can’t imagine sneaking a shuttle into anywhere but if you did I’d expect it would be slow, tedious and on a very precise vector. Besides, good training isn’t for anything in particular. Good training is defined as anything unpleasant and hard, EM.”

“So the primary purpose of the training is simply that it be hard?” Palencia asked. “That is crazy.”

“The more you sweat the less you bleed, EM,” Dana said. “And your port lower grapnel is showing a fluctuation.”

“I fixed that,” Palencia snarled.

“I don’t think the grapnels are a Granadica fault,” Dana said. “I think there’s something inherently wrong with the design. It’s not a Glatun system. There were no Glatun systems that did exactly what we wanted out of a grapnel. It’s designed using Glatun tech but it was the Night Wolves that came up with it. I suspect there’s a subtle little theory fault in their gravitic equations.”

“It’s still holding,” Palencia commed.

“Sometimes I swear it’s something in the software,” Dana said. “Or gremlins.”

“Gremlins?” Vila commed. “Like the movie?”

“Remember the old guy at the beginning talking about them?” Dana said, still watching her screens. “It was the excuse that a lot of people used for non-functional equipment in World War Two. Mostly it was poor maintenance or manufacture. A lot of the stuff that was manufactured for World War Two was pretty crappy compared to, say, the Germans and Japanese. The US didn’t really figure out how to do things right until around the time of the space program. And while there’s some high precision stuff we do that equals or surpasses both countries, they’re still generally more precise than we are. Tarro, drift.”

“Drift, aye, EM,” Tarrago said.

“You’re over compensating for the previous drift,” Dana said. “Either that or your seventeen thruster isn’t giving you the spec response. Pal, run a diagnostic on that thruster.”

“Diagnostic thruster seventeen, aye,” Palencia said. He commed back a moment later. “It’s…fluctuating.”

“Link,” Dana said, pulling up yet another screen. She didn’t have enough eyes for this. “All teams, cut thrust. Readback.”

“Cut thrust, aye…”

“Release grapnels…”

* * *

Dana sighed as the four mirrors drifted free. Taro’s had developed a yaw that had it spinning ever so slightly in space. And they were going to have to hook back up to them. But letting the boats just continue on their merry way while she dealt with Twenty-Two’s issues was a non-starter.

“Pal, pull the number sixty-three relay on Seventeen’s control,” Dana said. “Then lick the contacts and reengage.”

“Lick them?” the EM commed.

“Yes,” Dana said. “Lick the contacts. With your tongue. Then reengage and test.”

“Stand by.”

“Lick them?” Angelito said.

“Saliva is a decent conductor,” Dana said. “When you get something like what was happening it’s usually a bad connection. Could be dirt or minor corrosion. The best way to make sure of the connection, when you don’t have time to thoroughly clean it, is to lick the connection. Of course, as soon as we stop it will have to be pulled again and detail cleaned.” She made a note.

She leaned back in her seat and started bringing up the data on the mirror. None of them were being used, currently, as supply mirrors. Which was fortunate. At the moment it was pointing a bright bit of light into deep space. Generally in the direction of the Aquarius constellation. Of course, with its current spin it was soon going to be pointed completely away from the sun.

When they got it to its new position the stabilization paks would orient it properly. She could try to use the stabopaks to stabilize it. They had the override codes for the mission. But there was more than one way to skin a coyote.

“All boats, maintain position,” Dana said. “Angelito, we need to get the spin out of that thing. Engage two percent thrust and let’s catch that sucker.”

“Uh…aye, EM,” Angelito said. “I don’t suppose you want to drive?”

“Nope,” Dana said. “You might want to start with a forty degree yaw on port nine. This is mostly going to be fiddly thruster work.”

“Forty degree yaw, port nine, aye, EM…”

* * *

“Okay, this time it’s a bit easier,” Dana said. They’d gotten Twenty-Two’s thrusters and grapnels working again, the mirror reoriented and finally into place. “All we have to do is cut the grapnels and back away slowly. Don’t start backing until the grapnels are cut. Can I get a readback…?”

* * *

“And we are done,” Dana said.

“Thank the Mother Virgin!” Valdez commed. The coxswain of Twenty-Four had had no previous comment on the evolution and had done very well all things considered. It wasn’t his fault that Sans cut the grapnel a fraction of a second too late.

“So now we go refuel,” Dana said. “Purely for safety and training purposes. Which will require some very ticklish docking maneuvers. Then we go get the next set.”

“Aaaaah!”

* * *

“Comet, Raptor. Private.”

“Go,” Dana commed without speaking. She still wasn’t comfortable with direct comming. At this point she figured she never would be. But she could play the tune.

“What’s the status of your crews?”

They had the second mirror nearly in place after all the fun of in-space refuel. But everyone was starting to drift off the carets. The mirrors, fortunately, had some flex. But things were getting iffy.

“Getting worn out,” she replied. “They’re not used to this sort of driving.”

“Same here,” Raptor commed. “Once you get that mirror in place, discontinue evolution.”

“Discontinue evolution, aye,” Dana commed. “RTB?”

“Negative. RON.”

“Joy.”

* * *

“And we’re…done,” Dana said.

“What’s the next mirror?” Valdez commed. He and Tarrago were both CM3s but Valdez was Flight Division Leader.

“That’s it for today,” Dana said. “We’re done-done until tomorrow.”

“Great,” Vila commed. “I can hear my rack calling me.”

“You mean the fold-down one in your flight compartment, right?” Dana said, teasingly.

“EM?” Valdez commed.

“We’re on a Remain-Over-Night,” Dana said. “Since there’s no military facilities nearby, that means we’re racking in the compartment. I hope you guys have your inventory of boat rations onboard.”

“This is…” Palencia sputtered.

“We’re forty-three million kilometers from base,” Dana said, trying not to let the exasperation enter her voice. “That’s a really significant fuel use. And as slow as we were taking it, it took us eight hours to get here. We’re not going to waste the time and fuel to go back. We’re closer to Earth than we are to Thermopylae. And, no, you can’t go home for supper, EM.”

“It had not crossed my mind, EM,” Palencia replied.

“As to the rations, I checked your stocks because I thought we might be RON,” Dana said. “So…have fun camping, boy scouts.”

* * *

“Oh, God, I want a shower,” Dana said.

Three days of moving mirrors and even she had to admit it had been a right pain in the ass. Twenty-Two’s grapnel had finally given up the ghost but they’d figured out a way around that. And Twenty-Four had one out. On the other hand, pretty much all of the birds in Raptor’s division were down one or more grapnels. Twenty-Eight had been more or less hanging out with nothing to do since it was down three. Nineteen, from Division One, was working on spare air since the recycler’s had gone out. That had to suck. But her division was, with the exception of the grapnel stuff, still in the green. Go Division Two.

With eighty-four mirrors moved, by their group alone, it was time to head back to the barn before something serious broke. She wasn’t sure but this might have been the longest continuous mission for Myrmidons since their initial test series. Raptor at one point had equated it with flying a fighter plane around the world for four days without any checks. Put that way, the fact that they were still functional at all was surprising.

“I would never have thought I would look forward to the rather uncomfortable bed in my quarters,” Angelito said. “To simply flop or take a shower first? This is a great philosophical question.”

“The first thing is you check your suit,” Dana said. “Then you get to decide.”

They hadn’t spent the whole time in suits. When they were in “down” time they could climb out of them. Angelito had, politely, moved into the cargo compartment to change out of his. He had still been a bit weirded out being in the same compartment with a sleeping woman. She figured he was going to go find a girlfriend or Rosy Palm pretty quick after they got back.

“Raptor, Comet,” she commed.

“Go.”

“Do we have to dawdle along at a hundred grav all the way back?” Dana said.

“We’re going to reach within fifty percent of max velocity as it is,” Raptor replied.

The Myrmidons on this long of a run could easily reach velocities that were somewhat problematic. First there was the whole problem of relativity. The Myrmidons could, on long runs, start to push into areas that were called “relativistic.” It all came down to Einstein’s E=mc2 . Part of the back math of that said that as an object approached the speed of light, its mass increased. One of the reasons it was theoretically impossible, before the gates, to exceed the speed of light was that mass increased exponentially as you approached the speed of light. Something had to “push” that mass, fuel in the case of Myrmidons, and eventually you didn’t have enough energy. Besides, it went right up the closer you got and you could never quite reach the speed of light no matter what you did.

Didn’t really matter. Myrmidons couldn’t manage it no matter what. It had been calculated that given onboard fuel the closest that a Myrm could get was about .03 c. The most that anyone had noticed was that pulling full power for more than an hour caused a tiny fraction of increased fuel use. But that created all sorts of other problems. Because not only did mass distort, so did time.

As you pushed further into relativistic zones, time “slowed” inside the vehicle. To the crew and passengers there was nothing to notice. But when you got back to base you found out that your clocks were really off. Theoretically, you could spend one duty day traveling and find out it was three on the “outside.” They called it Rip Van Winkle time. The Navy was still arguing whether “normal” time or relative time counted for time in service. So far it hadn’t been a major issue. Given operations and maximum velocities, Dana had only ended up a few minutes off of “real” time due to relativity. But it was interesting.