Fermi's War Read online

  "If I'd known liaison meant 'take over', I'd have brought my good uniform. I'll keep you up-to-date, skipper. Shakespeare out."

  The line went dead, and Marshall rubbed his hand across his face, then looked across at Shirase, whose face had become a vision of fury. He looked at Marshall, back at the blank screen, then around the room.

  "I didn't know. They never told me. Those bastards never told me," he said, his voice growing in intensity.

  "Mr. Shirase...," Marshall began.

  The lieutenant raised his hand, "You're all thinking it. That I was sent here as a spy for them. I didn't know. I didn't know!"

  "I believe you, Lieutenant. There are a lot of things you could have done if you were. I trust you."

  "There has to be a reckoning, Captain. They've got to pay for what they have done. People have died – people that are supposed to be on our side. We need that site, need it very badly, but the price is too high." He stopped, and took a deep breath, saying, "Captain, if you wish to withdraw from Desdemona to rescue our crewmen, I will endorse your decision."

  Marshall saw what those words had cost Shirase, saw the earnest look in his face, and shook his head, replying, "Not now. We're close to getting an agreement. I can't risk that, even for the lives of the crewmen."

  "They knew the risk," Cunningham said quietly, drawing a look of surprise from Caine.

  "If we can come to some sort of an agreement with the Republic, then we will be free to break orbit. Hopefully then everything will start to settle down."

  "I hope you are right, Captain," Shirase said, "and that they will not make demands that the Confederation cannot give."

  The screen flicked back on to show the trajectory of the frigate, inexorably moving towards Desdemona. Whatever happened now, it was going to end up in orbit – the inflexible laws of celestial mechanics compelled that. Hopefully the politicians on both sides would prove less intractable, or there would soon be a short-lived ring system around the tiny moon, and a single wounded ship left to enjoy the fruits of victory.

  Chapter 22

  More than an hour had passed since three ration packs had been tossed into the cell; the guard had noted the flickering red lights with some amusement, but had made no effort to make any repairs; if the Maru was preparing for a battle, then they likely had more important things to worry about than minor maintenance on an unused airlock. Orlova was finishing the remains of her carnicultured meat – she didn't even attempt to work out what they had been attempting to grow in the vats.

  "Pity they haven't sent anyone in to fix the sensors. I half thought that we might be able to take out a technician or two," she said

  Esposito shook her head, "These guys seem too smart for that. They don't care what we're doing – and if they sent anyone in here, it just gives us another chance to get away." She looked down at the old man, still sitting serenely on the floor, "You seem comfortable enough."

  "When one is as old as I, one learns that energy must not be expended heedlessly. They cannot see what we are doing or planning; that is good. All we need now is a plan."

  "If we just had a spacesuit, I could probably hot-wire the communicator to contact someone," Orlova said, swinging limply from the ceiling.

  "They'll have a jamming system built in, at least around the room. It would be their communicators you'd be using, remember. They'd pick it up in seconds and big men with guns would burst in here to stop us. It's academic in any case – no way they'd let us have a suit," Esposito replied. "If you want to wish for something, wish for a code-picker. Or hell, a shuttle docked on the other side of that airlock."

  "It's just so damn frustrating." She lashed out with a foot at the wall, sending herself careening across the room – and looked up in surprise at Esposito, "The wall moved."

  "What?"

  Orlova pushed herself back to the spot she had kicked, and pulled at the wall with her hands. There was a loud click, and the panel on the wall retracted, revealing a deflated white bag inside. She looked around the room and smiled.

  "They left in the rescue balls!" she yelled.

  "Of course they did. They wouldn't want their precious prisoners to die if we decompress."

  "They've got communicators."

  "So? We're still stuck in here, and I don't think they'll give us more than a few seconds of signal, in any case. That guard is probably monitoring the signals himself, on the off-chance we've thought of something."

  Orlova started to pull out the ball, earning a quizzical look from the old man and a frustrated stare from Esposito. She moved to the next panel, and pulled another ball out, until three balls were filling a substantial part of the airlock space. She drifted among the white sheets with evident glee.

  "Doesn't matter if he comes or not. He won't be able to come in if the airlock has been depressurized and we're floating away."

  "What?"

  "This is an airlock, and they've helpfully exposed a lot of the cabling. I think I can override the locking mechanism; they won't have taken it out, they'll want to use this as an airlock again at some point."

  "So we drift out there in little white balloons until someone picks us up?"

  "Better. If I get this right, we'll be fired out when the atmosphere goes. That'll give us a nice boost away from the ship."

  "You realize that it will take them a matter of minutes to bring us back in."

  The old man looked up, a smile on his face, "Minutes are better than seconds. All we need to do is contact either your Alamo or the Ma Kong, and the crew of the Maru will be in a far more difficult position."

  "Assuming we can break through the encryption."

  "We'll have time to try. Damn it, it beats just sitting here and waiting for the Second Interplanetary War to start, doesn't it?"

  Esposito signed and nodded, pulling at a rescue ball, "It's been ages since I've had to climb in one of these things. Not much in the way of controls."

  "Just a life-support system and a communications rig. Nothing complicated." Orlova peered at the systems, "Good for – oh."

  "Oh?"

  "They have made some modifications after all. Communications are intact, but there's only three hours oxygen in each one. The tanks are almost empty."

  "Three hours will be sufficient time for us to be recaptured, Sub-Lieutenant. Your plan remains sound," said the old man, who had finally risen from the floor and was starting to scramble into his ball. "How long before you are ready?"

  "No time like the present. The two of you get in, and be ready to seal up when I say."

  "What about you?"

  Orlova started to open up her ball to allow her to drift close to it, reaching out with both hands towards the cables, then replied, "I'll have to rig the override. Good old electronics after all the fun I've had with the monitors already. Fortunately this is just a standard system."

  "Why do I have the horrible feeling you've done this before."

  "Blowing cargo airlocks is an old smuggler's trick. I'll have thirty seconds to get into the ball before the lock goes."

  Esposito looked at her, eyes wide, shaking her head, "Then get in the ball. This is my job; I'm the one with the zero-gravity training."

  "And I'm the one who can do this work in her sleep. Sorry, Gabi, this one's mine. Let me know when you are ready."

  "I am prepared," the old man said.

  Looking up at her friend, Esposito nodded, and scrambled into the rescue ball, pulling the seal almost to the top. As soon as she completed it – a matter of a second – she would be safe as the life support systems activated. Orlova looked up at the tangle of wires; for all her bluster, she'd only actually done this twice before, and both times she was wearing a flight suit, rather than trying it in her shirtsleeves. The last time had been over Titan, revenue interceptors on the way, trying to land a cargo in one of the methane seas for a client she had never met.

  Four cables, all of which needed to be spliced together to bypass the safety systems. That was simple enough
– then came the hard part, as she pulled out the test keyboard and started to type commands into the computer, one after another, activating a series of emergency programs. It wasn't just opening the doors normally – that would take too long. This was a question of stopping the computer from decompressing first, which would likely damage the lock permanently. Not something that bothered her too much.

  She paused with her finger hanging over the confirm button, tucked herself more tightly into the ball, and then gently tapped it, throwing herself down into the ball – too hard, as it turned out, as she bounced back out of it, a hand grabbing the side of the ball in a desperate flailing motion as the countdown continued. She managed to slide in on the second attempt, and sealed the ball tightly with all of five seconds to go. The next part was the difficult one; she tried to hang limp in the middle of the ball.

  The airlock popped open, doors pulled out by the force of the atmosphere escaping, taking the three balls with it, popping them out into space. Orlova was flung against the side of the ball, bouncing back around it before she could steady herself. Her first priority was checking the integrity of the fabric, but that all seemed fine. The indicators from the other two were also green, so her fellow escapees were fine. Next came the big part, as she pulled out the communications keyboard, trying the emergency frequencies, the ones that by international treaty should be sacrosanct against jamming. Turning up the gain as far as possible, she began to speak.

  "Orlova calling Alamo. Orlova calling Alamo. Freighter Maru is Q-Ship planning unprovoked attack against Ma Kong. Have temporarily escaped with Esposito and Republic agent; all well."

  She set the message to repeat constantly, trying to mentally calculate how long it would before she could expect a reply, then began to work on the transmitter, modifying it to the extent of the limited capacity. It had been designed to resist tampering; the specification called for it to be usable by a blind man, a child, or a badly wounded casualty in the worst cases – all you had to do was push a button and start to speak. Although there were some limited directional options, it just didn't have the functionality. She tried switching randomly across the four emergency frequencies, hoping against hope that someone would pick her up, but with the distinct impression that she might never know, that the Maru would pick her up again before she could find out.

  After a few minutes, she sat back in the rescue ball, looking out of the small window. The ball was spinning wildly, Uranus and the station seemingly flying past her at a furious rate. It was enough to send her stomach churning, but she forced herself to keep looking, and was rewarded with a bright light briefly flashing into the ball, strong enough to make her eyes water. Not a spacesuit, probably a shuttle, which would help. She balled her fists, getting herself ready to make one last struggle, hoping that she might have a chance of getting free of her captors once she got on board. She wasn't expecting the call that came through the speaker.

  "Raven Leader to Raven Four. You read me?" Warren's voice echoed through the speaker.

  "What the hell?"

  "I'm out here in a shuttle with some grapples. I've already got the other two balls, all fine and well. I'm going to start moving in towards the station now, so brace yourself. I'll keep it nice and steady."

  "The station? Never mind, you've got to get my message to Alamo."

  "I relayed it as soon as I picked it up. You're lucky this shuttle was up by one of the upper bays, I'd never have got to you in time otherwise. We've only got control of the upper decks right now, but we're winning."

  "Am I under arrest?"

  "Don't be silly, we know it was Tokubai. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, by the way."

  "Thanks for that, sir. I think it would probably have all happened anyway."

  "Damn it!" His voice rose, and Orlova could hear him calling the station, "You got anything you can put up yet?"

  "What happened?"

  "Shuttle just launched from the station, heading right for the Maru. Probably that rat Tokubai pulling out. Brace yourself, I'm going to try and speed up a tad."

  The next few minutes were one of the most uncomfortable transits Orlova had ever experienced; every pulse of the shuttle thrusters sent her bobbing up and down, and the ball bounced twice in the gravity as Warren brought the shuttle in for a landing. As soon as the atmospheric sensors indicated a green light, she gratefully popped the seal and stepped out onto the deck, looking across at the other two bring helped out of their bubbles. Warren stepped out of his shuttle and looked around, gesturing to a technical crew to start preparing the shuttle for another launch.

  "If you three are up to it, we should get down to the control room. I left Ensign Matsumoto in command down there, rather not leave her by herself for too long."

  The trio needed no encouragement to make their way to the elevator; a technician tossed each of them a tablet that Orlova instantly swallowed, and she started to feel her stomach settle down. The old man refused his pill, sliding in his pocket, and soundlessly stepped inside. As the doors closed, she noticed that Warren's insignia had changed. He looked down at them and blushed.

  "Ah, that. The skipper gave me a temporary promotion so I'd outrank Tokubai. Just about worked as well, though I'd rather not have to go through all that again! Be damn glad to take them down and get back to normal again."

  "Don't you want promotion?"

  "Captain – or Lieutenant, in this set-up – tends to be where the fun is." He looked over at the old man, eyes narrowing, "And who might you be?"

  "An observer of humanity, Mr. Warren."

  Esposito grinned, "He's working for the Republic. For the present, I think he's on our side."

  "Are you?" Warren asked.

  "Do you really expect me to say no, Lieutenant?"

  The doors slid open on pandemonium. A young ensign was striding down the consoles, shouting at technicians who were racing to put things back in order; the room was dominated by a huge hologram of the station showing tactical positioning, with a pair of sergeants, one of them with his arm swinging uselessly in a bloody swing, shouting commands into headsets, co-ordinating pitched battles across the whole station.

  "Ensign," Warren gestured to Esposito, "There's work for you there if you want. The priority has to be getting control of the docking cluster – if we can get the shuttles and fighters, we might be able to launch a strike on the Maru."

  "I'll get right on it, Lieutenant."

  "Now," he turned to Matsumoto, who almost walked into him, "I'd like a report on that shuttle."

  "It just docked to the side of the Maru, and was in quite a hurry about it. Straight-in approach. We just spotted a work crew on the outer hull, looks like they are putting a patch over that airlock."

  "How long?"

  "Depends on how good a job they want to do."

  "Any luck trying to contact them?"

  "They have not responded on any channels, Lieutenant."

  Warren sat in a convenient chair, rubbing his hand across his chin, musing, "They can't think that they are going to take the station. We've got a strong advantage now; the only edge they had was a couple of people on their side in the station administration and surprise. Both of which are now redundant."

  "They're planning to move out and attack the frigate."

  "Ensign, any luck with electronic warfare systems?"

  She shook her head, "We haven't got the processing to spare at the moment. Too busy fighting off intrusion attempts from the lower decks." Frowning, she continued, "They're moving quickly with that welding job."

  "It doesn't have to be perfect," Orlova said. "They can finish the job once they get under way."

  "The crew is returning to the airlock. Lieutenant, I'd say we have seconds."

  Warren shook his head, "There's nothing we can do. Contact Alamo, and..."

  "Energy spike!" yelled one of the technicians. "Aft of the Maru, main engines are engaging. They're moving out!"

  "Signal coming in from the Maru now, Lieutenant," a
nother technician said. "Recorded only."

  "Let's hear it."

  Tokubai's voice echoed across the room, "This is Lieutenant Tokubai, commanding the Directorate Vessel Raifuku Maru. We are proceeding to act in the defense of our territorial sovereignty by engaging the enemy forces that have entered the Uranian sub-system, and call for the assistance of all Triplanetary forces in-system under the Foundation Treaties."

  "By the book," Orlova muttered.

  "We will not rest until Desdemona is secure for the Belt. We call on the incoming frigate to alter course to leave the system immediately, else we will be compelled to use deadly force. Maru out."

  Sighing, Warren reached for a handset, "Patch me through to Alamo, and fire that message at them first."

  "I think they already received it, sir. That was omni-directional."

  "Damn." He looked at his watch, "That will reach Luna in about three hours. If we haven't got this sorted out by then..."

  The old man stepped forward, "As a representative of my government, I request permission to contact the Ma Kong." He looked at Orlova, and smiled again, "It is possible I might be able to assist."

  Chapter 23

  Slamming the headset down, Marshall looked around the bridge; all of the officers and crew were looking at him to make the next move, to pull off the miracle that might yet prevent war. He looked over at Weitzman, sitting at the communications station.

  "I want to speak to the Maru, Spaceman. Right now."

  "Still no luck, Captain. They aren't answering our transmissions."

  "Mr. Shirase?" Marshall looked at his operations officer, who nodded in reply.

  "I will make an attempt, Captain. If I can speak to them, maybe I can stop this insanity."

  "Get me the Ma Kong, Mr. Weitzman."

  "Aye, sir. It'll take me a minute to mesh encryption..."

  "Don't. I want this one loud and clear."

  "The freighter will hear us, sir," Weitzman said, frowning."

  "Let 'em."

  "Aye, sir." He tapped a sequence of buttons, "I have Captain Jian, sir."