PILLARS OF LIGHT AND FIRE: THE COMPLETE SERIES, page 42
The outer door opened, and she tethered herself to an outside hook and pushed out. The Archimedes was rolled over again, and she faced the Milky Way. She tried to remember the last time she’d seen so many stars. The door shut behind her. She pulled the lever that released the payload doors and stabbed the fat button that cycled power to open them. She plugged the reel control into her pack. Using her wrist controls, she unreeled as she kicked out to the satellite and went to work.
Over the radio, Kai and Jeri talked idly as Indiana worked. She let them drown out her thoughts. She went from end to end, weightless. It was a lot more fun than the tank was. Before she knew it, she was ready to deploy. She plugged in a remote test box and reported to Jeri that she was ready to test the attitude controls of the satellite.
“Go ahead,” Jeri said.
Indiana tested each in turn in very short bursts. “All green.” Indiana reeled herself in and her magnetic boots clicked through her suit on contact with the bay. “It’s ready.” She unplugged the remote test box.
“Deploying,” Jeri said. The satellite spun and ejected from the Archimedes’s payload bay, becoming a black void where no stars existed.
“I have good comms with the satellite. Activating test cycle.” Indiana checked the time on her HUD. “Hey, that was a recor—” she began, then the explosion hit her. Everything flipped upside down. Indiana banged her helmeted head on the payload bay. Disoriented, she hit the reel button. Nothing happened.
“Indy!” Kai saw her through the airlock doors.
“I can’t move!” Indiana’s vision swam. The Archimedes spun and the payload bay, wrenched at a right angle, spun with it. There was a little centrifugal force, giving Indiana a sense of gravity.
“Slow it down, Jeri!” Kai yelled through the radio.
Indiana grabbed on to the payload bay door and surveyed the damage. Her tether winch had broken off. The outer airlock door hissed as an internal air tank leaked.
“The outer door is breached,” Indiana reported. “There’s air coming out.”
“We need to get you inside,” Kai said.
“Don’t you fucking open that door!” Indiana yelled.
She climbed hand over hand as the attitude thrusters slowed the ship. The other payload bay door gouged the hull of the forward compartment and debris flew about. There was a canister near the door she had never seen in all her hours working in the payload mockup. “Kai, there’s another explosive near the door.”
“What?” Kai was alternating between Jeri and the inner airlock door. She had a hand on her temple, where droplets of blood floated about.
“Look at my display,” Indiana said calmly. She dragged herself along the payload bay. She manifested, the increased energy and strength surging through her aching muscles. Arondight cut away debris that whipped into space.
“What’re we going to do?” Jeri asked.
Indiana looked at Kai through her HUD display and knew the moment had come. “You have to blow the aft section off.”
“Can’t do that,” Kai said. “It may trigger the second explosive.” To Indiana, that made sense. Cripple the ship and then destroy the crew when they tried to abandon it. “And you’re out there.”
“And you’re in there, safe.”
“You can get into the ship through the embark hatch. We’ll put our astro n-suits on.”
Indiana pulled the outer airlock release, which prevented Kai from opening the inner door. “It takes thirty minutes to cycle the lock and I’m not sure I can get to the embark hatch. This canister might finish Archimedes off. It’s close to the forward section. No. Have to jettison the payload section somehow.” Indiana thought for a moment. “Jeri, before you blow the explosive bolts, what do you do?”
“I disengage all systems connected to the payload section.”
“Do that,” Indiana said. She debated cutting the canister free, but she was no bomb expert. She moved outward, toward the junction that connected the two portions of the ship. Using handholds, she carefully maneuvered herself into position. This could be a waste of time, but she was going to try. As she moved to the outer part of the ship, she felt the tether stop her. She flicked Secace, cutting the now-useless tether.
“Done. All systems are running on the forward section,” Jeri said.
Arondight flared to life. Indiana began to cut the two ships apart. That was incredibly easy to do, and the only hard part was moving herself around the circumference of the ship. If she missed a handhold, she would float away into space.
“When the canister blows, you might be able to come back for me,” Indiana lied. They both knew.
“We’re not leaving you. We can’t get back without you,” Kai said.
“Don’t bullshit me, Kai. You can get Archimedes back. It doesn’t need as much energy to land as it does to get into orbit. You have your rings.” Indiana worked as fast as she could. Jeri sent her a schematic on her HUD and she estimated her progress. Just get it done before the second device blows . . .
After a long moment of silence, Kai said, “I’ll power up the drive.”
It was done. The two ships were separated and they began to float apart very slowly. Indiana moved toward the canister. If she could shield it and absorb as much kinetic energy as possible with her field and body . . . But she did not have a KE shield. She looked at the wrecked payload section and got an idea.
Hand-over-hand, Indiana moved up to cut the payload bay door. With a piece of the door in hand, she pulled herself back to the canister.
“Get going, Kai,” Indiana said. Indiana moved the payload bay door over the canister, pulling all the power into her body. She glowed like the sun and her nose bled again. She could not absorb all of the explosive energy, but if her KE field could take all the force expended through the door, she could keep it from breaching the hull of the forward compartment. Maybe.
“I’m sorry, Indy,” Kai whispered.
“I believe in me,” Indiana chanted.
The forward section began to move away. Indiana watched it. It was weird to see it move without any sort of propellant, like something from a science fiction movie.
The canister exploded with a ripple through the payload door, Indiana’s KE field, and her suit. Indiana bounced off of the forward compartment and hurtled into space away from the two pieces of Archimedes. She spun end over end but watched as the capsule escaped the mangled structure of Archimedes proper.
45
Objects in Motion
Kai sat in the propulsion chair, gripping the controls. They felt unfamiliar. She adjusted the straps for her height and something dug into her thigh. It was Janny, Indiana’s AI. Kai stared at it for a long moment and then put it in her suit pocket, safe.
Jeri was punching through the emergency reentry procedures. She spoke over the comm channel, her voice cracking. “She’s gone, Kai.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Kai spat.
“No, she’s really gone. Out of radio and radar range. Mass and orbital dynamics. She was thrown into a lower, fast-decaying orbit. She’ll be carbon molecules by the time we get to her if she hasn’t skipped off the atmosphere. We can’t save her in the state Archimedes is in. She saved us. I’m not going to waste that.”
“Fine,” Kai growled. Her heads-up display came to life inside her astro n-suit. Lights flashed and blinked.
“Connect yourself to the internal oxygen system. The cabin has a leak,” Jeri said, snapping her own helmet in place. “Full power. The capsule thrusters aren’t enough to stop the tumble. If we’re not careful we’ll burn up in the atmosphere, or worse, skip off of it ourselves.”
“Why is skipping off of it worse?” Kai asked as Ainavainë and Sardayáwë found contact even through her gloves and she felt the focal magnifier below. She snapped the grid to full power.
“We may break orbit and never get back.”
“We have infinite power.”
“Yes, but finite resources. Except for life support and propulsion, this capsule doesn’t have much.”
“I know better,” Kai said.
“You’re still thinking of her.”
Kai frowned. “She’s dead now.” She flipped the controls and manifested to full power. It was too much for Jeri at first. The capsule whipped around, then slowly she brought the Archimedes onto a steady trajectory. Kai noticed that she was streaming with sweat. Her astro n-suit cycled to compensate.
“Most systems are damaged, though not all are inoperable,” Jeri reported. “Plenty of redundancy. Our communications array is on backup. Most of the heat shield seems to be intact, though some of the octagons are missing or not responding to sys check.” She indicated the fish-scale-shaped six-sided tiles that made up most of the Archimedes’s skin.
“Is that bad?”
“Normally, no. The tiling is meant to fall away, and Archie’s hull is heat resistant. But there may be enough damage from the explosions to have ripped away part of the skin. Depending on how steeply we reenter—”
“We could burn up. Super,” Kai said. She looked through the capsule windows. Already they were beginning to light up with reentry. The capsule shook.
“It’s going to be bumpy,” Jeri said, adjusting the descent.
“Can you handle it?” Kai watched the Archimedes’s calculated trajectory.
“Keep full power and I’ll keep the descent slow.”
The capsule shook and groaned. The windows flared brightly as the hull superheated. Kai tinted her astro n-suit faceplate and focused on pouring all of her power into the gravitic drive. Then the power went away.
“Fuck,” Kai said.
“I’ve lost control, Kai.” Jeri pulled on the joysticks.
“The grid went down. I’ve lost the field and the drive!”
“Fuck, indeed,” Jeri said.
“Well, this is shit.”
“We’re gonna make it,” Jeri said, holding tight to the controls and snapping switches to shift systems. “Come on, baby, hold together.”
Kai looked around her. The whiteout dissipated and the blue of the sky could be seen. “Looks like we made it.”
“Now comes the hard part.”
“The falling?”
“The not hitting the earth,” Jeri said. “We’d land Archie like she was a plane, but this is just the front half. We have wings.” She checked her systems. “Well, one wing, and that might cause us to tumble. We’ll deploy the automatic braking system.”
“The parachutes?”
“You thought all those simulations were a waste of time.” Jeri smiled over at her. The Archimedes began to plummet. It was stomach wrenching and reminded Kai of flight school.
Kai closed her eyes. “They are now. We don’t have a shuttle.”
“We knew it was going to be a sort of one-way trip.”
“I was planning on coming back to Earth, you know.”
“Got new problems,” Jeri said.
“Parachutes not deploying?”
“Backup comms array is down. Burned away.”
“Tertiary?”
“That was tertiary. Whoever sabotaged us knew what to do. We have the navigation beacon and locator. The system is rerouting working components to functional antenna. Should be able to get messages to Tom for pickup.”
“Where’re we going to touch down?”
Jeri checked the calculated trajectory. “Somewhere in the South China Sea. Hang on, here we go.”
There was a boom and a whistling sound. Kai felt the braking system begin to slow their descent.
“South China Sea? That’s nowhere we need to be. We’ll need to scuttle the capsule.” Once the capsule reoriented itself, Kai unstrapped and disconnected the focal magnifier. The system was no longer functional anyway. Without Dr. di Lago, no telling when they would have a device like this again. The gravitic drive they could replace. The magnifier they could not.
“We’ll hit water in about a minute,” Jeri reported.
“I wish the grid hadn’t died. I could’ve flown us home,” Kai said as she worked. She disconnected the focal magnifier and packed it into another pocket of her astro n-suit.
“Get ready,” Jeri said. Kai got into her seat just in time. The ocean rushed up to meet them.
* * *
Past and present collided. Indiana floated among the stars. All of who she was and would be came together for an instant. She was whole and perfect. Then the instant was gone, shattered into a million constellations as she regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw the blue Earth filling her vision.
Her suit pinged. She checked her HUD. A test cycle message from the Longinus. It was ready. A bit too late, Indiana thought. After a moment of consideration, she sent a message back to the satellite. “There are always possibilities,” Indiana whispered as she entered the atmosphere.
Over Siberia, in the Taymyr Peninsula, over a Nganasan village, a spark of light streaked across the sky, creating a thin, brief pillar of fiery brilliance. Villagers looked up, suspicious of the omen on the tundra. Death was in the air. The spark drew a line from heaven to earth until it vanished with a flicker.
* * *
WASHINGTON, DC—
Ogier met Muire Ann at the entrance.
“Where’s Richard?” She pulled off her sunglasses.
“He’s at the tanks. Your niece is here.” Ogier fell into step with her. He looked fairly cowed.
She patted him on the cheek. “Stand up straight, Ogier. Losing Subject Four wasn’t your fault. It was incredibly bad luck. He was clinically dead, after all.”
Ogier drank from his coffee mug. He had deep shadows under his eyes. The last twenty-four hours had been a strain on him. MRI’s initial facility had been closed down and erased, and he had taken the first available flight out here.
“I’m just not sure why your niece is here. She’s not even supposed to know where this facility is or what it does.”
“I told her.” Muire Ann walked down the spiral staircase into the tank facility.
A crowd of doctors and scientists lifted Owen’s body out of the viscous fluid of the first tank. They placed him on a raised gurney and pumped fluids out of his lungs until he coughed, sputtered, and then gasped for breath.
Richard was there, slapping his meaty hand on Owen’s back as he coughed up the nanomolecular fluid.
“Cousin,” he wheezed, looking up at the beautiful blond Gray Lady—Morgan LaFayette. She wore a business suit of light smoky linen with a titanium-colored blouse that, along with the pants, did not conceal her shape. “So good to see you.”
She knelt down and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good to see you, Owen.”
Scientists and doctors peeled the suit away from him. His hair had grown out a little since he had it shaved, but it was still short and glistened darkly in the light of the facility.
Owen was wracked with another bout of coughing up black fluid. “What’re you doing here? I’m happy to see you.”
“She’s here to take over Brightwork, Prime,” Muire Ann said sharply when she got close. The brightness in Owen’s eyes dulled when he saw his mother. He reflexively clenched his left hand into a fist and then forced himself to relax.
“Why?” Owen was confused.
Morgan smiled. “Because all of this was my plan, and your mother helped me do the work in exchange for getting exactly what she wanted.”
“And that is?”
Morgan flicked a hand. One of a dozen well-dressed men stepped forward and handed a briefcase to Muire Ann. Muire Ann accepted it, then handed it to Ogier, who took it with some confusion himself.
“I’m again the chief executive officer of LaFayette Corporation.”
“How was your sabbatical?” Morgan’s green eyes glittered with amusement.
“Boring as hell,” Muire Ann sighed, and motioned to the facility. “This kept me moderately busy and I caught up on some new initiatives. Richard and Ogier have pioneered groundbreaking work.”
“Parts of which we don’t own,” Richard pointed out.
“Which nobody cares about,” Morgan countered. “Who’ll sue us? Feel free to monetize whatever technology you’ve created. Richard, how do you feel about working for me?”
“A great deal better than working with your cunny aunt,” Richard barked.
Morgan laughed and Muire Ann shot him a deadly look. “Ogier?”
“Well, I suppose this was a fruitful diversion, but with Muire Ann’s permission—”
“Granted.” Muire Ann gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Ogier’s eyes brightened. “I could sleep a week,” he sighed.
“Not me. I’m done with sleep and dreams for a while.” Owen toweled himself off.
“Are you going to go over the paperwork?” Morgan asked.
“With a fine-toothed comb and twenty lawyers,” Muire Ann said.
“We have the same lawyers.”
“We have the same genes, too.” Muire Ann kissed Morgan on both cheeks. “Have fun, ma chère.” She placed a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Well done, Prime.”
Owen only nodded and watched her leave with the troop of lawyers. “It only took twenty-three years to get a compliment from her.”
Morgan smiled. “Baby steps. I always hated her nickname for you. Can we call you Alpha?”
Owen gazed at all the tanks around him. “We’re going to run out of alphabet if you start doing that. But if you like.”
“I’ll just call you Owen, cousin.”
“That’s better.” Owen smiled.
“Morgan LaFayette.” Richard smiled. “I remember when ye were a wee lass. Didn’t ye stab your brother with a knife once?”
* * *
EUROPE—
Ed’s Janus device pinged. He sat up in bed.
“Incoming message from Arthur,” Janus said, and connected automatically.
“Hey, Ed,” Arthur said. His voice was strained.
“Did you get shot again, Mac?” Ed asked, rubbing his eyes.
