TNE 02 To Dream of Chaos Read online

  "No, not a good prospect. Keep your original plot. Sixer."

  "Roger that."

  "And look on the bright side. Once we're done there, If s Just one more jump to Oriflamme,"

  Searching for an appropriate rejoinder. Deep Six reflected upon the opinion Physic had hod when he asked the doctor what she thought aboul going to Oriflamme. Though he was Inclined to think she was being facetious, her words had a ring that appealed to his poetic sensibilities, and he repeated them verbatim.

  "Sir, I am positively flush and a-quiver with excitement."

  "Are you, now?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Then I guess we'd better hurry up and get there."

  Unlike the entry into jump, precipitation from Jump was a tense and exciting time for a number of reasons.

  For one, no one really knew when a jump was about to end. Although the elementary school textbooks said a jump took one week, an actual jump could end as many as 24 hours more or less than the 168 that were statistically average. With a certain abruptness, the Jump governor would signal the engineer on jump watch that precipitation was Imminent, and all hands would have as few as 15 minutes to make themselves ready.

  For another, no one could be certain what would await In normal space when the ship emerged. Barring a freak perturbation of local space-time, the jump drive would deposit a starship at the plotted exit point, but there was noway to know in advance what local conditions might be at that point Aooard a military ship tike Hornet, all hands would secure themselves In vac suits as insurance against explosive decompression from holing, and battle stations would be manned In expectation of the worst unlikely contingency.

  Gyro, who had called the imminent emergence from her station In engineering, woke Crowbar from hisquarters In the loft with a b'ast of the ship's klaxon, then waited the two minutes for him to arrive so she could dash forward to her starboard turret duty station. Five minutes more saw her sealed into the bulky TL12 suit she stowed in her turret, leaving only the helmet visor open to give aclear vlewof the engaged laser flrecontrol. Outside her turret viewport, meanwhile, jump fire danced on, though she could almost believe she saw It Intensify in places, as if It didn't quite want to let them go.

  "All hands,"sheheardoverhersultradloamomentlater, "this is Red Sun. Signal secured for precipitation "

  "Engine room secure," Crowbar returned, followed in turn by the other stations as their personnel suited up.

  "Laser turret secured."

  "Missile turret secured."

  "Sick bay secured."

  "Electronics workshop is secured."

  "Cargo bay secured."

  "Loft secured."

  Those last three were always the last to report, though with good reason. The electronics workshop was Newton's responsibility, and even a spry Hiver took a little while to stuff all its limbs into a six-legged vac suit. The cargo bay, meanwhile, was the meeting place for Drop Kick and his cavalry, who had fairly cumbersome scout battle dress to get into. Once that was negotiated, they had perhaps the most Important responsibility of anyone on the ship—seated in the G-carrier, they would listen for evidence ihat the ship had suffered catastrophic damage after precipitation and stand-by to evacuate survivors in their makeshift "lifeboat."

  The loft, finally, was last to report for the best reason of all. Though it held all six Marines, crisply trained and drilled for rapid suiting, their heavy battle dress was massive, weighing over 400 kilograms. So large were the suits that they stood In specialized racks with servomotors to help lower the top half onto the bottom, yet the Marines understood that they would wear these rigs instead of conventional soft suits: Should Hornet suffer massive damage, their robust armor and enhanced strength might be Indispensable for pulling others out of the wreckage.

  "Look sharp," Crowbar said, "we're coming out of the holel Precip in 101"

  "All hands stand by!" Coeur called out.

  "Field iscollapsing. Precip infive... four... three.., two... contact. Clean entry, all boards green."

  Suddenly, the jump fire disappeared from Gyro's viewport. In its place: stars, and the oblate orange and yeilow sphere of No vole n.

  As per regulations, Gyro checked her station over for integrity, then sent an all-clear signal to Deep Six. The navigator, meanwhile, would be absorbing data from their Immediate surroundings with short-range passive EMS, and unfolding the larger passive array that would shortly give them electronic eyes as good as any in the Coalition fleet-

  "Uh-oh," Coeur said, over the channel routinely monitored by flight stations.

  "What's that?" Snapshot asked.

  "Not sure. Deep Six, do you see doppler motion bearing 075, plus 20?"

  075? Cyro thought suddenly, that's my corner of the ship.

  "Engage active sensors," Coeur said after a moment; "there's no threat emission in the area."

  Art instant later. Gyro had cause to disagree about the threat. Streaking across the stars outside—so fast she wasn't quite sure she saw it at all—came a silent missile, dark and all but invisible to sensors.

  Aimed right at Hornet.

  t # f "Look outl"

  Coeur heard the shouted warning from Gyro—abruptly cut off a moment later—an instant before the one-tonne meteoroid struck. A chunk of Iron coated in volcanic soot from a nearby moon. It was freakishly difficult to track on passive sensors, but deadly enough to a thin-skinned freighter.

  Though her hands were on the control column, Coeur felt the ship suddenly spin out from under her control, rattled by a shuddering blast above and astern. Through the panoramic bridge canopy, stars then began to wheel crazily about as primary power went dead and Hornet was transformed into an inert hunk of metal, tumbling end over end.

  "Emergency power!" Coeur yelled to Crowbar. "Damn it. Crowbar, emergency power!"

  "Crowbar is not responding," Deep Six answered matter-of-factly, meanwhile fighting to keep from blacking out in his Schaili-form suit. "Automatic reserve power is also failing to respond."

  Damn it, Coeur thought, feeling the G-bladders in her body sleeve's legs and abdomen puff up to keep the blood In her head, spinning fast without inertiaI compensation. We can't keep this up for long.

  Still keeping her hands on the dead stick and throttle, though, Coeur chinned her suit's short-range radio, "Drop Kickl Come in, Drop Kick!"

  "Urr," she heard the sergeant grunt, "what's happening?"

  "We're spinning and we need emergency power!"

  "What—can I do?"

  "Emergency battery power—junction box 2—throw it!"

  "Roger!"

  Though it seemed like an eternity, Drop Kick came through for Coeur as she knew he would. Straining against the centrifugal pseudo-gravity, but strengthened by the servomotors of his suit, he clambered to the rear of the hold where the empty spare luel bladder sat and pried up a floor plate to manually discharge the high-voltage power cells below the deck.

  The effect was welcome and immediate—inertial compensation and gravity displaced the tunnel vision creeping up on Coeur and let her slump back in her couch to eyeball the reactivating helm. The ship was out of control—spinning on three axes—but the batteries energized the HEPLAR thrusters well enough to let her lock down the rotation, one axis at a time, "Well done," Deep Six said, after the work of several minutes had them merely adri!t, To conserve battery power with the power plani disabled, Coeur shut the thrusters off after that.

  "Well done, my ass. Drop Kick, have you found Crowbar?"

  Physic answered for him.

  "Yeah, we found him, but he's not good. Looks like one of the power plant capacitors blew and gave him one helluva shock."

  "Oh hell—is he alive?"

  "Barely, Suit probably saved him. But, good Caia, the engine room is wrecked!"

  "How about that. Drop Kick?"

  "Can't say for sure. We've got atmosphere here, but I can't get to the lop deck. It looks like it's open to space,"

  "That could be where the impac
t was," Deep Six speculated.

  "I ihought I heard Gyro scream," Coeur said, "so I thought she took the hit."

  Gyro dispelled that ill thought by hopping on the line.

  "Negative, negative. I'm all right."

  "Thank God," Coeur said, "How about you, Snapper?"

  'Hanging on.**

  "Gaffer?"

  "Shaken up a bit," the first sergeant replied, "but nothing serious."

  "I am also fit," Newton reported. "Proceeding aft to assist with damage control."

  Ah, Newton, Coeur thought. Unflappable as ever.

  Coeur herself could hardly relax. Though the damage to her ship appeared localized, that didn't mean it was minor.

  "This is the difficulty," Newton said, pulling up a schematic of the far trader on the Integral holographic display of the lounge table before Gaffer, Drop Kick, Snapshot and Gyro. "Areas 322A and S22B—which is to say, the aftermost fuel tank and power plant fuel pump—were struck directly by the meteoroid. Almost certainly, that caused the power plant to shut down, as well as shorting out the auxiliary power bus,"

  "Oh, greal. Screwed by a reactor scram," Snapshot muttered.

  "You'd rather it kept running until the magnetic bottle failed?" Gyro shot back. Snapshot didn't reply, "Can we fix it?" Drop Kick asked.

  "Unknown. A visual inspection of the damage will have to be made."

  "Why haven't we done that?" Gaffer asked.

  "Good reasons," Coeur answered. "Our ship is designed to take a pretty strong dose of radiation—-that's what lets us skim from a gas giant in the first place. However, the vac suits we have-—even the battle dress—are not designed to take long exposure to heavy radiation, which it could be exposed to if there's a large hole in the top deck compartment.

  "But that's not the half of it. We don't have power to alter Hornet's course very much, and inside 10 hours, we're going to be in the dead center of one big mother of a magnetic field-surging between 10,000 and 100,000 rad."

  "That's bad," Snapshot said.

  "Maybe not," Gaffer said. "What's the count where we are?"

  "Substantially less," Newton said, "fluctuating between 50

  and 500 rad."

  "All right, then, took. My battle dress will take 300 rad without any problem. Assuming somebody keeps an eye on the dosimeter, I don't see any reason why kouldn't go out and eyeball the situation."

  "I do," Snapshot said. "You may be a qualified combat engineer, but you're not a starship engineer."

  "I don't see it's a choice. Snapshot. You might know more about engineering than me, but you sure don’t know more about handling my suit. Besides, put a remote camera on my suit with a fiber optic link, and it'll be just like you're there."

  Despite her misgivings, Coeur saw he had a point. With the best engineer in the ship—and a good hand with battle dress himself—laid up in sick bay, they would have to Improvise as best they could. If an eyeball survey found the pump could be repaired and the outer hull patched, there was still a good chance they could maneuver around the hardest radiation zones of the gas giant and skim the fuel they'd come for In the first place.

  If.

  If it didn't, they would soon end up dead, "What about Badger," Coeur said- "Didn't you say he was the most astronautically inclined of your men?"

  "Well, yeah."

  "Of course he is," Snapshot said, looking at Gatler. "He has a good understanding of gunnery and power system theory, unlike some people here."

  "That will be enough, Snapshot," Coeur said- "You can secure that crap now, or you're confined to quarters."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Now, Caffer," Coeur said to the first sergeant, "how is Badger in a suit?"

  "He's a natural," Gafter had to admit. "Best marks in zero-G maneuver."

  "That may be important," Coeur thought aloud, "since there's no gravity in that section. Fine. Gatler, I want you and Badger in the engine room in frve minutes. Newton, rig up the camera he mentioned."

  "What about the rest of us, sir?" Gyro asked.

  Coeur re'Secied on that a moment before answering.

  "Pray," she finally suggested, "like you mean It,"

  When all preparations were finally made, Newton left the two Marines In the desolate lower engine room before the massive and silent jump drive, then retreated to the safety of the port gangway leading forward. Like a giant airlock, the entire lower drive deck would be depressurized when the troopers went out, but the rest of the ship would remain fully pressurized. That way, if there was a mishap, Physic could qutckly move the casualty into a pressurized adjacent corridor.

  "You getting the picture from my suit?" Caffer sent to Coeur on the bridge-

  crystal clear. Ready to egress?"

  "Roger that. What's the count?"

  "Dosimeter centered at 250 rad, fluctuations plus or minus 50."

  "Could Iry an egg In that," Badger joked.

  To his surprise. Gaffer actually chuckled.

  "Yeah. Bridge, ready to cycle."

  "Roger," Coeur said. "Cycling lower deck atmosphere."

  On the bridge. Gyro and Snapshot Joined Coeur at the ordinarily unmanned aft computer station, carefully studying the feed from Gaffer's suit camera as first he, then Badger, pulled themselves into the weightless upper chamber.

  At first it seemed a hopeless shambles—bits of wire, plastic, shattered metal and electronics floated In a listless cloud throughout the area—but Badger was quick to see the reality of the situation.

  "Well, I'll be damned! Sergeant, point the camera here."

  When Gaffer obliged, the women on the bridge saw why he was so elated.

  "There's hardly any damage at all. It looks like a tiny projectile sheared through the pump and smashed the electronics. Damage is minor, though. Nodamage to the aft fuel tank, and nothing Structural except the hull penetration—I'll bet an old combat engineer like the sarge could fix it in his sleep."

  On the bridge, Coeur gave Snapshot a steely look, and the Oriflammen blushed.

  "I'll just do that," Caffer said, clipping himself to the bulkhead above the disabled pump with an elastic cord and drawing a spannerfrom the colossal tool kit he carried as an incidental load at his waist, "Why don't you look at the hull puncture, private?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I see why there's no gravity," Gaffer went on, working to pry loose the damaged portions of the pump. "The shard looks like it wedged in the deck and shorted out the floor grtd. Want I should fix it, or leave it so you can get to the hull?"

  "Ah, leave it for now," Badger said, hovering at the Inward bulge in the ceiling, distended downward to a hole the size of a

  man's fist. "We should be able to fix this with tools on hand."

  On the bridge, Coeur let out a heavy sigh.

  "Somebody really did pray, didn't they?"

  "It could have been much worse," Gyro seconded, "A meter forward, and we might have had a fuel explosion."

  Since Coeur was looking at Gyro, she only caught the motion of Snapshot's lips as they finished a silent votive.

  Thank you, Cod.

  Meanwhile, Badger had also clipped himself to the forward bulkhead and begun his own Impromptu repairs. He had to cut away a square meter of irreparably warped hull—and therefore exposed himself directly to the blast of energetic neutrons outside—but Crowbar's foresight had left enough spare armor on hand to replace it with a temporary patch. All he had to do was keep a steady hand and an eye on his suit's internal radiation counter, "Hey, Badger," Gaffer called up after a few minutes, "I'm going belowlor a few minutes. I've fixed the pump, but I'm going to need some other parts to fix the artificial gravity."

  "Understood," Sadger said, looking down from the gaping hole with a 100-kilogram sheet of super-dense piate in one gauntlet and a User welder in the other, "Just don't fix it too soon; I wouldn't want to drop this."

  "Roger that Be back momentarily."

  "Affirmative."

  * * *

  Marveling at the sk
ill of the Marines, Coeur finally pulled herself away from the screen only when Gaffer announced that the fuel pump was repaired. Sure enough, the rugged power plant churned back to life a moment later, drawing from batteries at first to power its magnetic bottle, then switching over to conversionof liquid hydrogen to maintain continuous fusion. The HEPIaRheat exchangers, In turn, came on-line, and full maneuver power was restored to the vessel.

  "Great work, guys," Coeur said Into her headset as she strapped Into the helm couch. "Power and thrust read nominal."

  "Out...standing," Badger said. "Almost...done.„"

  A strange soit of huffing gasp had come into his voice, and Coeur turned immediately to Deep Six.

  "Ee'Ka'a PootE!" the Schalli swore. "Radiation building! 500... 1000 radi"

  "What?"

  Hearing the report, both Gyro and Snapshot suddenly turned forward in their chairs.

  "I don't understand," Deep Six said, "What is causing that?"

  Coeur, however, did not wait tor an explanation.

  "Badgerl Gaffer! Come In'."

  "Gaffer here. What's up, bridge?"

  "Gaffer, Is Badger with you?"

  "Negative, I went below to get some parts for the—"

  "Forget about that—Badger's in troublel We've just entered a high radiation zonel"

  "What? How strong?"

  "I don't know—over 1000 rads, but It's falling to a safe levell Gaia, get out there and help himl"

  "I'm on my wayl"

  Numb with shock. Gyro and Snapshot nevertheless retained the presence of mind to remember Gaffer's camera. They, Coeur and Deep Six turned to regard Its monitor, which showed the silent form of Badger, floating in the hole at the top of the ship with a sheet of armor still In his hand.

  "Flkk, this armor's hot!" Gaffer sent, as he closed on the body. "He's glowing In gammas!"

  On the bridge, eve7 hint of color drained from Snapshot's face.