The Tangled Stars, page 23
I frowned. “Don’t we have that information?”
“It was classified.”
“Then it sounds like the first order of business is to contact Laysa.”
“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Thibauld said. “I tried. One little problem.”
“What?”
“Earthforce is jamming all transmissions.”
“Standard operating procedure,” Ilya put in. “The Luna Rangers do the same thing. If a ship you’re pursuing appears to be planning a rendezvous with another ship, prevent the two from talking to each other.”
“How can they jam our transmissions from that distance?” I demanded.
“That’s also classified,” Thibauld said, “but it’s probably a spin-off of the MASTT-derived technology that makes the Shaver Drive and grav-webs possible. You know, just your run-of-the-mill manipulation of space and time at the quantum level or below.”
“The Jeanne Baret manipulates space and time,” I said in a flash of inspiration. “Maybe she could break through if Laysa asked her to?”
“Possibly,” Thibauld replied. “But we can’t ask her to try because . . .”
“All communication systems are jammed.”
“Precisely.”
“Then how are we supposed to—”
“Jeanne Baret to Ernest Cox,” said Laysa’s voice. “Ready to switch ships?”
I gave Thibauld a startled look. He looked back inscrutably. “Ernest Cox here,” I said. “Good to hear your voice, Laysa. I guess the Jeanne Baret was able to break through the Earthforce jamming?”
“Earthforce jamming?” Laysa said. “News to me. Jeanne, is that true?”
“There does seem to be unusual interference,” came a second female voice, deeper than Laysa’s—sultry, even. Thibauld’s tail twitched—he tended to react to unknown AIs as though they were unknown cats. “However, I had no difficulty getting a signal through it.”
“Function of being a ship designed to explore, I’ll bet,” Ilya said. “Not your typical communications array.”
“I presume that was the ship who just spoke?” I said to Laysa, watching Thibauld’s twitching and slightly puffed-up tail.
“Jeanne,” Laysa said. “Yes.”
“Ernie, say hello to the Jeanne Baret,” I said.
“Hello, Jeanne Baret,” Ernie said.
“Hello, Ernie,” Jeanne said. She’d clearly picked up on my use of the nickname since even though he called her by her full ship name, she didn’t call him by his. A minor point, but it spoke to just how sophisticated an AI she was, despite being decades old.
She’s been awake all those decades, I reminded myself. With access to on-board fabricators and probably whatever raw materials she asked for. I felt a moment’s unease. Exactly how much has she upgraded herself over all those years?
I put the momentary concern aside. Laysa had clearly managed to take command of her because here they came.
I looked at the main display again. Here comes pretty much everyone in orbit. “All right,” I said. “Let’s make some plans.”
• • •
“Damn it,” Galioto groused, glaring at the display on Heorot’s bridge. His pleasurable interlude with Sarah had been concluded to his satisfaction and, he thought, hers, but the afterglow was fading fast. “Where the hell were Kain’s ships lurking?”
“Powered down in the Capitol’s orbit, I suspect, sir,” said Captain Verago, without turning around or removing his command goggles. “They knew where we were, after all. All they had to do was wait.”
“Hell of a waste of resources for Kain. He hardly knows me. Why is he so hell-bent on taking me out?”
No one answered him. He hadn’t really expected them to.
“What concerns me more,” Sarah said instead, “is where the third ship is hiding.” She pointed at the display. “That’s Sugar Kain and Candy Kain. Where’s Sword Kain?”
“Called off on other duty, maybe,” Captain Verago said. “As you said, sir, they are very valuable resources.”
“No,” Galioto said. “It’s being held in reserve. Stealthed, maybe. Ready to appear at the most inconvenient moment.” He studied the plot. “The Jeanne Baret gets to the Ernest Cox before Earthforce arrives. Presumably, they’ll transfer from the Ernest Cox to the starship. Then they’ll boost out of orbit and head . . . where?”
“Mars,” Sarah said instantly. “The Jeanne Baret carried a crew of eight. They’re shorthanded. Ilya Stadnyk is with them. He has connections on Mars. He’ll find them a crew.”
Galioto said nothing. That made perfect sense. But if he headed to Mars to try to intercept the Jeanne Baret at Mars and she didn’t go there, they might lose her. “You could be right,” he said. “But that’s not where we’ll go.”
“Sir?” Sarah said.
“There’s only one place we can be certain the Jeanne Baret will eventually go,” Galioto said. “MASTT Primus.” He pointed at the display. “This is just a mess. If we continue toward rendezvous—or what would be a rendezvous if the ship was still there when we got there, which it definitely won’t be—we’re putting ourselves at risk of being attacked by Earthforce, or Kain’s ships, or both, or getting caught up in a free-for-all involving everybody.” He glanced at Captain Verago. “Can the racing yachts catch us if we veer off now?”
Verago cocked his head to one side, clearly studying the display inside his goggles. “Uncertain,” he said. “We do not have enough information about their drive capabilities.”
“I’ll take uncertainty,” Galioto said. “Set a course for MASTT Primus, Captain Verago, and execute it as soon as ready.”
The captain pushed the goggles onto his forehead and turned to face him at last. “Sir? There is no MASTT Primus.”
“Where the station would be if it still existed, Captain.”
The Captain’s gaze slipped over toward Sarah.
“That’s an order, Captain,” Galioto said softly.
Verago’s gaze snapped back to him. “Yes, sir.”
“Sir,” said Sarah. “There are still other considerations. The Maroon Off Vesta is . . .”
“We’ll discuss those ‘other considerations’ in my cabin, Sarah,” Galioto said. “I’ll let you know when. In the meantime, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
He didn’t look at her, but he could feel her gaze burning into the back of his head.
“Yes, sir,” she said. A pause. “Thank you.” It was the most ungrateful-sounding expression of gratitude he’d ever heard.
He heard her leave the bridge, but he didn’t turn around. Capturing the Jeanne Baret was all that mattered. He was all-in on the wager she represented. Be the first to reconnect Earth with New Earth, and by extension, the rest of the human diaspora, and none of his other operations would matter in the slightest.
The Heorot’s projected trajectory in the holodisplay began to change as the ship accelerated. Galioto watched in silence as the difference between their previously projected course and their new course widened on the display. Then . . .
“The yachts are altering course and accelerating, sir,” the captain said, once more wearing his goggles. “They’re coming after us.”
“Will they catch us?”
Silence for a moment. Galioto knew the captain was consulting with the ship’s AI.
“Yes, sir,” Verago finally said. “If they continue pursuit. But not immediately. Heorot makes it two days, twelve hours, fifteen minutes before they are in missile range.”
Galioto nodded. They won’t chase us that long. And they’ll be running in our wake. A few missile pods dropped behind us, and they’ll lose interest in a hurry . . .
Captain Verago suddenly stiffened. “Sir! New bogie . . . it’s Sword Kain. On an intercept course. Missile range in twenty-one minutes from . . . mark.”
Damn it! “Change of plans, Captain,” Galioto snapped. “Take us back toward the Earthforce ships and Jeanne Baret.”
“Yes, sir!”
Galioto had been trying to avoid a free-for-all. Now, it looked like the best possible option. Well, he thought, chaos has always been good to me . . .
He bared his teeth. “Coop,” he said under his breath, “let’s see what you make of this.” He raised his voice. “Captain Verago, set up an emergency frequency broadcast. I’ve got something to say.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Humans’ lack of sharp claws and sharp teeth—sharp anything, really, including minds—makes it all the more baffling they have survived as a species as long as they have.”
—Thibauld’s Private Log
Had I been asked to assemble a list of things I never expected to experience, hearing Eric Galioto, capo del capi of the outer system underworld, begging the police to protect him from two tiny ships called Candy Kain and Sugar Kain would have been near the top—well, had I even been able to imagine such a thing.
Now, though, I didn’t have to imagine it because there was Galioto’s voice, unjammed, calling out on the emergency frequency kept universally clear by authorities all over the system for communications just like his.
“Mayday! Mayday! This is Eric Galioto aboard the Heorot, calling Earthforce. We’re under hostile pursuit from Sword Kain, an illegally armed vessel registered to Terrance Kain on Luna, being driven toward Candy Kain and Sugar Kain, also registered to Terrance Kain, also illegally armed. We expect attack! We need assistance! Mayday! Mayday!”
Thibauld was staring at the main display with narrowed eyes and flattened ears. “Heorot had just altered course when Sword Kain appeared. Now she’s back on an intercept course with us, but she’s not slowing to rendezvous. She’s going to be blasting past at high speed.”
“What about the other Kain ships?” Ilya said.
“They’re pursuing,” Thibauld said. “Their velocities are increasing.” He cocked his head to one side. “It’s possible they’ll be in weapons range about the time he goes by us. I don’t know exactly what weapons they have, but if they fire the moment he’s in range—”
“—we might be in the crossfire,” I finished. “How long until the Jeanne Baret gets here, Ernie?”
“Fifty-two minutes, forty-seven seconds to zero-zero rendezvous, barring course changes,” the ship replied promptly.
“I concur,” said Jeanne herself.
“Everyone else’s arrival time has changed,” Laysa said. “They’re not aiming to rendezvous, but they’re all going to be in our very near vicinity shortly after I reach you.”
Thibauld had his eyes fixed on the screen with all the intensity of a cat watching a rat. “The two Earthforce ships are breaking formation. I’d say one plans to go after the Heorot, and the other is heading for us.”
“Can you confirm that, Ernie?” I said.
“Concur,” Ernie said. “Vessel PS1098 is accelerating and altering course, while Vessel PS4214 remains on course for a zero-zero rendezvous with us in one hour, forty-two minutes.”
“Some fifty minutes after Laysa gets here,” I said. “So that’s our window to change ships. Can we do it?”
“Maneuvering to dock would likely take all of that time and then some,” Laysa said.
“Based on the information Ernie has provided me,” Jeanne put in, “we cannot dock in any event. Our air locks are not compatible.”
I’d suspected that.
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Ilya said.
“If you think it means we’re going to have to suit up and get from Ernie to the Jeanne Baret in open space, then yes,” I said heavily.
“At the same time as, possibly, weapons are being fired in our immediate vicinity.” Thibauld sounded thoughtful. “What would happen to a human body struck by a kinetic impactor designed to penetrate the hull of a spaceship?”
“The same thing that would happen to a cat body,” I said, a little more nastily than was perhaps warranted.
“Ah,” Thibauld said. “But unlike you, I have nine lives.”
I sometimes wished the AI implanted in Thibauld’s brain hadn’t been imbued with—or somehow developed—a sense of humor.
“The odds are extremely small that anything will strike us while we’re out there,” I said.
“It doesn’t have to be a weapon,” Ilya said. “If one of the ships is hit, there’ll suddenly be a lot of high-velocity debris.”
“I should also point out,” Thibauld said, “that the Ernest Cox does not carry personal maneuvering units.”
“What are you talking about?” I snapped. “I use one all the time when I’m . . .” I stopped. “Oh.”
“Oh?” said Ilya.
“Oh,” said Thibauld. “As in, ‘Oh, I forgot. They’re carried in the cargo module.’ Which is no longer with us.”
“So, what do you propose we do?” Ilya snapped. “Jump?”
I could almost see Thibauld’s mind leaping onto the idea that had just occurred to me, so I leaped on it first. “No. We’ll hitch a ride on the cargobot. In fact, that should have been our first choice.” I gave Thibauld a withering look. “Thibauld, I’m amazed you didn’t think of that.”
Thibauld’s ears flattened. He didn’t hiss out loud, but I was pretty sure he was hissing on the inside.
I turned to Ilya. “The cargobot is designed to operate both in gravity—like when we used it to manhandle—”
“Robot-handle,” Thibauld put in.
I ignored him. “—our fake-ID transponder in the reconnaissance probe into a corner of the berth back on Earth Capitol, and in zero-G, which is how I use it when I’ve got salvage to lock down in the cargo hold. When I had a cargo hold. It’s not an AI. It’ll do exactly what Ernie orders it to do. He just has to tell it to take us to the Jeanne Baret, and it will fly us there.”
“Not in pressurized comfort, though,” Thibauld said. “We’ll be more like the scorpion riding on the back of the frog in Aesop’s fable.”
“Except we’re not going to suddenly disable the cargobot halfway across because ‘that’s just our nature,’” I said impatiently.
“I’m surprised you even know that story.”
“I read things, too, you know.”
“What are you two talking about?” Ilya said. He sounded irritated. I’d noticed a few times during our journey that my conversations with my cat had that effect on him.
“It’s not important,” I said. “What’s important is that the ’bot can get us to the Jeanne Baret quickly and safely, within our fifty-minute window.”
“It’s actually quite a bit less,” Laysa’s disembodied voice warned. “The Earthforce ships will be in weapons range well before that. The first one might even be in weapons range before we get there since it’s accelerating. It depends on its trajectory.”
“It’s not going to fire on the Jeanne Baret,” I said with more confidence than I really felt. “I’ve said it before. So have you. Earthforce is not going to destroy Earth’s only working starship.”
“Even to stop it leaving the system?” Thibauld said. “I’m sure I’ve said that before, too. Shall we continue the argument or just assume we’ve already had it and nobody’s mind was changed?”
“Let’s go with that.”
“The Jeanne Baret is a lot bigger than the Ernest Cox, isn’t it?” Ilya said suddenly. “More privacy?”
“Yes,” Thibauld and I said together.
“Good,” Ilya said. “Good.”
That left one more part of the plan I’d been formulating to implement. It was a part of the plan I hated, but it might be our only hope of escape.
I took a deep breath and turned to the main display. There was no particular reason to do so—Ernie could hear me anywhere on the ship—but it felt appropriate, like an officer looking a soldier in the eye before giving him an order that could kill him. “Ernie,” I said. “Here’s what I want you to do . . .”
• • •
Laysa listened as Coop told Ernie what to do after he, Ilya, and Thibauld left the Ernest Cox for the Jeanne Baret, and nodded approvingly to herself.
Once the crew had safely transferred to the other ship, Ernie would accelerate and change direction. No other ships would be close enough during the crew transfer to know that was what had happened, especially with the three of them clinging to the cargobot—sensors would just register that as a single, rather confusing object. So, when the Ernest Cox took off in an unexpected direction and the Jeanne Baret accelerated to begin her journey to the outer system, confusion would reign—especially if Ernie immediately began firing missiles at the other ships.
It was unlikely the Ernest Cox would hit anything—all of the other ships undoubtedly had robust missile defenses—but the fact she was attacking would surely draw return fire and attention and possibly even make the Ernest Cox the prime target of one or both of the Earthforce ships. That would allow the Jeanne Baret to build an insurmountable lead because the Jeanne Baret, Jeanne had told them—boasted, really—had a far more powerful Shaver Drive than any of the other ships about to be involved in what had become a very messy situation. All they had to do was get out of weapons range, and nobody could catch them.
Yeah, that’s all, Laysa thought.
First things first: get Coop, Ilya, and Thibauld safely aboard the Jeanne Baret.
She glanced at the old-fashioned display. They were decelerating now, matching velocity with the Ernest Cox. In twenty minutes, they’d be stationary relative to each other.
She looked at the projected trajectories of the other ships closing in on them. It was going to be close.
• • •
“Why, exactly, doesn’t this tub carry proper EVA suits?” Ilya asked as we pulled on the same lightweight, non-armored suits we’d used on Earth Capitol Station.
“There’s literally nothing I could do on an EVA to help Ernie if the ship ran into trouble,” I said. “I only ever needed a suit for internal work in the cargo hold when it was unpressurized—and when I still had one.” I sealed my gloves onto my wrists and reached for the helmet. “Besides, no suit in the world will make a difference if bits of spaceship start flying around.”
“At least I’m a smaller target,” Thibauld’s AI-generated voice said in my ear. I’d put him into his “suit” first—a kind of pressurized cat bed, tethered to me. I could see his eyes peering out through the transparent top.
