Page 20 of Threshold


  Catching up to you lot . . . What could he mean by that?

  The astronomical telescopes were accessible with a little work, since they weren't being used as much at the moment. One could be focused back the way they came on Ceres. That wasn't hard now that they weren't even doing much catching of the mass-beam.

  He drew in a breath, startled. Something was visible behind them, something monstrous. At nearly fifty million kilometers, it was still visible as a pearlescent disc in the high-power telescope, implying a size beyond comprehension, and giving no clue at all as to what it actually was.

  Who to call? The general eventually, of course. Not Fitzgerald. Anthony! He was the astronomer. He might know what it was.

  Internal communications, of course, worked just fine. "Anthony, it is me, Horst. I was looking through one of the telescopes, and I have seen something very strange. Could you take a look and tell me what it is?"

  "Of course, Horst. Give me the coordinates."

  A few minutes later he heard Anthony LaPointe curse. "Good God! Moving on our own course, or near to it . . . and the size—it is huge, a thousand kilometers across."

  Horst could not avoid thinking of a line from an old movie. That's no moon. It's a space station. "A thousand kilometers? It is bigger even than Ceres!"

  "Yes. And moving in what appears to be a powered orbit, acceleration roughly on the same order as our own. Now, how . . ." LaPointe trailed off. Then: "Ahh, let us see the spectrum . . . reflected light and ionized gas . . . ingenious. With traces of manufactured material. And with enough enhancement I believe I can make out something at the center. No detail, but . . . it is a ship. A variant of magnetosail, I believe. I may have heard of such a thing before."

  "A ship a thousand kilometers across?"

  "The ship itself is small, Horst, smaller than ours by far. Perhaps five hundred tons, a thousand tons, no more. What we see is a cloud of gas and dust, held by a magnetic field. A nebula, one might say, chained to the ship."

  Horst laughed suddenly. "So that was the other secret they were hiding, the one that Joe and A.J. didn't talk about. Their Nobel couldn't catch us, but they fooled us anyway. I think we need to talk to the general."

  "Indeed. Let me record this data and bring it with us. I will meet you in a few moments."

  Horst shut down the terminal and laughed again. This was getting exciting. And perhaps he might see Jackie again sooner than he thought.

  If they were going to catch up, she wouldn't really have much to be mad about at all. Things were looking up!

  "It would seem, Mr. Fitzgerald, that your little plan has not quite worked out as expected. We are being pursued."

  Fitzgerald barely registered the general's acid tone. He was too busy staring in disbelief at the screen. The bloody bastards had pulled a new ship out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere. He'd known they were working on some kind of ship, but none of the prior alien vessels had been of any use to anyone. The idea that these boffins could have made something older than mankind workable was utterly ridiculous.

  But ridiculous or not, it was clearly coming after them, and according to the data from LaPointe it could almost certainly catch up to them at Jupiter. Fitzgerald shook himself mentally. Gaping was undignified, and dignity mattered. It mattered a great deal. Moreover, it was time for, what was the term? Ah, yes, spin control.

  "Well, now, that makes it interesting, doesn't it, sir?"

  "That may be one way of putting it. I find it less amusing than you appear to find it. Perhaps you can help me find the humor?"

  "Can certainly make a good try at it, General. Sure, they can probably catch us around Jupiter, but have you asked Dr. LaPointe if they can beat us to Saturn—given what we know and they don't?"

  The general tilted his head. "If they're faster than we are . . ."

  Fitzgerald grinned. So, for once he was actually ahead of the tech curve. Not always easy to do. "General, you know better than that. We could be going twice as fast as we are now if we could've arranged the right braking material ahead of time. But it won't quite be where we want it if we cranked the speed up right now. It will be there when we get to Saturn on our current schedule, and we've already got surprises hanging out in Jupiter system. So we'll be heading out on our second leg a lot faster than we're going now, and they can't go much faster because whatever tricks they have in mind, that ship of theirs is basically a sail in a storm. If they do more than a passive slingshot, they'll have nothing to use when they brake around Saturn, which doesn't have as big a gravity well to play with."

  Hohenheim nodded slowly. "True. But then . . ."

  "Then either they have to try to stop us somehow, or we're in a real race. Which Odin is almost certainly going to win."

  Hohenheim's brow wrinkled. "And if they do try to stop us, that's an attack. On us."

  "Exactly, General. Oh, they wouldn't be coming out after us if they weren't sure we shot 'em, but they've got nothing for proof. If they had proof, they'd have just sent a message to Nicholas Glendale back at Mars, and we'd all be heading home to some unpleasant times right now. They've got nothing. And me and my boys, we have everything planned out on how to get rid of the evidence if we did get pulled in."

  "Can they stop us?"

  Fitzgerald thought for a moment, sorting through the technologies he had a reasonable grasp of—which was quite a few, so it took a little time to be sure of his answer. "I don't really see how, General. We know the inspections aren't all that easy to get around, and these boys and girls weren't planning on fighting a war anyway. Even darling Madeline was looking for espionage, not naval battles. No doubt Secord and Buckley could come up with some kind of missiles between them, but nothing we wouldn't sense coming, and without some kind of really impressive terminal guidance we'd be able to avoid them just by a couple of random course modifications—which we can more than afford."

  Hohenheim let out a long breath. "All right, then, Mr. Fitzgerald. We continue as planned. It's a very good thing that they are not armed, however, since we are not."

  "What? I don't get you, sir."

  Hohenheim gave him a cold smile. "Mr. Fitzgerald, if they do attack us, we cannot return fire. If we were to return fire, they would have the evidence they need that we did, in fact, have the motive, means, and opportunity to destroy their power-distribution center, as we in fact did. They will be watching us extremely closely and will not miss a single piece of evidence. You can be quite sure they are prepared to record everything, also."

  The point had not occurred to Fitzgerald before, and the realization was a punch to the gut. The Odin was armed with a weapon potentially more destructive than any ever built, save for nuclear warheads, but it couldn't be used now.

  The general's smile widened, and got even colder. "I see that aspect of the situation had not yet suggested itself to you, Mr. Fitzgerald. Firing back would prove our guilt, and would result in further tragedy. Therefore, to protect my people and my ship, if it does turn out that the Ares vessel—which has rather ominously, I will note, refused to reply to any messages we have yet sent—does somehow have the capability to damage or destroy Odin, I will not fight back, but will instead surrender and hand you and myself over to the authorities." He dropped the smile. "However, as you say, it appears that we will not have to worry about that. So . . . you're dismissed, Mr. Fitzgerald."

  Fitzgerald found himself in the main hallway of Odin without even a clear memory of walking out the door. Never thought he'd be the type to give anything up without a fight, he mused. Then again, he has been showing a lot of conscience lately. He shrugged. No point in worrying about it. The likelihood that the Ares vessel could pose any threat to them was pretty small, especially now that Odin knew to keep an eye on them.

  But even if the chance was very small, he'd better be prepared. Just in case.

  The general knew military tactics and politics. But he didn't know nearly as much about espionage and sabotage. Richard Fitzgerald grinned. He'd already surp
rised the general before with that. He needed to have a serious heart-to-heart with his boys right away. This kind of a party needed advance planning to make sure all the guests played their parts properly. And as one of the guests might be named Madeline Fathom, only the very best planning would do. It might soon be time to really pull out all the stops.

  Chapter 29

  "We have a problem."

  A.J. turned to face both Maddie and Jackie, who were looking grim. "What's wrong?"

  Jackie answered. "I realized that we'd been making some unwarranted assumptions, so I had Maddie do some inquiries. It took a while, but we confirmed something that I hadn't wanted to confirm. The E.U.'s mass-beam setup wasn't idle a lot of the time. It's been running pretty much nonstop. I have no idea of the cost, but it must be huge."

  A.J. frowned, puzzled. "But that makes no sense. Most of the time, Odin was sitting still around Ceres."

  "I'm afraid," Madeline said, "it makes altogether too much sense. I had Jackie run the numbers. With reasonable assumptions about their capabilities, if they were running it that much, by the time Odin gets to Saturn, there will be a large amount of their drive-dust in the Saturn system. Enough so that they can afford to boost their speed radically for the Jupiter-Saturn leg."

  A.J. stared at them blankly for a minute, then went through one of his fits of typing on invisible keyboards, grunting half-comprehensible audio cues, and staring at things invisible to others. "I see what you mean. And if the stuff's even half as smart as it probably is, you can do all sorts of tricks with it in terms of when and where you use it. They'll have fuel galore left after they stop, and so they can use Munin to land on Enceladus, and then after they get their team down they can even explore other parts of the Saturn system. Dammit!"

  Maddie nodded. "It also means we might have to assume that they're not limited when they get to the Jupiter system, either. No reason they couldn't have stuff waiting for them there."

  "Or even have it being sent on its way now," said Jackie. "This trip they might not use it, but they have to be thinking of some Jupiter trips in the near future, maybe with the next set of mass-beam ships. Maybe sending out a mass-beam relay station."

  "This really screws up everything," A.J. grumbled. "I would've bet that we could beat them to Enceladus. They can't go much faster than they are now without trouble, or rather they couldn't if they didn't have an ace in the hole. Now it's clear what they were up to. They guessed that the best chance for exploration finds would be in the outer system and set it all up that way. The E.U. bets big, and looks like they're going to win that bet, too."

  Maddie, meanwhile, was studying files from the data they'd accumulated on Odin. "Jackie, you actually did manage to gather some considerable intelligence on how their drive worked. If they're using something like cut-down, massively duplicated Faerie Dust, couldn't we—through A.J., I'd presume—keep them from using it? Shut it down?"

  "I don't know." She glanced at A.J.

  The sensor expert reluctantly shook his head. "Not without knowing a lot about the design. Which is kept seriously locked down, I'm sure. If I had some samples, no problem, but not as it stands."

  "Then why don't we get some samples?" Maddie asked.

  "Huh? I suppose we could try to figure out the exact trajectory they're sending the stuff along—it's going in the same general direction, I'd guess—but we don't have the energy figures, so we don't know how fast it's going. And a rough guess won't cut it."

  Jackie suddenly leaned forward. "But we don't have to guess. We can make it come to us!"

  "How—damn, yes! We saw their signal laser!"

  Maddie caught their sudden enthusiasm. "Can you duplicate it well enough?"

  A.J. drew himself up with comic exaggeration. "Can you doubt me, woman? A.J. Baker, master of all things technological? Even if they did laugh at me in the Academy! But I showed them all, I did. Yes, I can. It's basically a green laser with a very simple pulse pattern that makes it easy for the nodes to verify that it's actually the laser and not something else. Hmm, you know, if we were doing this while they were still accelerating, it'd be like real honest-to-God sailing, trying to cut each other off from the wind. Yes, yes, I can! If any of their Drive Dust is still anywhere near our path, I'll get a sample!"

  "Will that allow us to stop them?"

  A.J. thought a minute. "I dunno. Not directly, really. The stuff we'd need to control is off in Saturn system, or at least scattered around Jupiter, and there's no way I'm managing that. It doesn't leave an easy way to trace it, and it's not going to be all that smart, so doing any fancy programming . . . nah." He looked a little deflated.

  "We still may be able to use it," Maddie said. "I think I have an idea. But first let's see if we can actually get a sample." She smiled, and A.J. gave a delighted grin back as he saw the glint in her eye. He knew she'd come up with something truly entertaining. "This race is not yet over."

  Horst felt cold and gray. So that's what they were doing. All this time, and I thought I knew them. Fitzgerald wasn't so much a surprise, but he'd thought better of the general.

  The modifications were extensive, yet subtle, hidden from any casual inspection, and with the proper preparation able to be disposed of with virtually no trace. The control software left no doubt as to the capabilities or purposes of the modifications, and the software logs left no doubt whatsoever of what had happened in the hours before their Ceres departure.

  No wonder they don't respond. I wouldn't want to talk to me, either, after that. Buckley was one of Jackie's best friends, and we nearly killed him. Stealing information was one thing, but this—

  "Something very odd, Horst."

  "What is it?" he said dully, remembering that he was on watch with Anthony. Not that there was much to watch. Interplanetary travel was basically very boring.

  "It is the Ares vessel. She is doing something odd."

  That got a bit of his attention. "What do you mean, odd? Turning back? Accelerating? Shutting off?"

  "Nothing so drastic. It seems to me that they are doing some kind of light experiment."

  Horst looked at the enlarged image that Anthony sent him. "I don't see anything—oh, wait." The translucent cloud had seemed to show a faint shimmer, just a bit different than the usual slight shifts of lighting. "Let me see . . . The enhancement we should be using . . . Let us try to isolate the moment. Focus on that . . . enhance . . . What is the spectrum here, Anthony?"

  "It seems normal, except there is a spike in the green region of the spectrum."

  "Hmm." Horst rubbed his chin. He was still angry and depressed, but this was interesting. "I wonder why. Have you seen this before?"

  "There are at least three occurrences so far."

  Green. What is that making me . . . ?

  "Anthony, is that spike centered on five hundred and twenty nanometers?"

  "Why . . . yes, it is. How did you guess?"

  That clever fellow. "Not a guess, a deduction. We may be seeing the start of some trouble. I must go talk to the general."

  "Go to him? Why not call him?"

  Horst unlocked from his chair and drifted to the exit. "Because I wanted to speak to him privately anyway."

  Anthony, knowing his friend's recent moods, didn't ask any more. He just gave Horst a concerned look as the slightly younger engineer dropped into the tube connecting the bridge with the habitat ring.

  Horst pretended not to notice Anthony's gaze. He didn't need sympathy right now. It took him only a few minutes to make his way along the connecting tube and arrive in the full-gravity corridor. He sent a query ahead of him; by the time he reached the door, it was open.

  Hohenheim was sitting at his desk, going over daily reports. "Yes, Mr. Eberhart?"

  "I believe that the Ares vessel is preparing to move against the Odin, sir."

  That got the general's attention. Hohenheim sat up straighter and removed his VRD glasses. "How so, Mr. Eberhart?"

  "We have detected regular spikes of em
itted green centered on five hundred and twenty nanometers, sir."

  Hohenheim gave a slow nod. "I see. They are attempting to draw the Smart Fuel Dust toward them. But we are done accelerating. This cannot affect our current course, can it?"

  Horst shrugged. "I am not sure, really. Light can cross the space far faster than we. If Mr. Baker does obtain a sample, I suppose it is possible he could program it—or, more precisely, have someone with access to more powerful lasers program it by remote. If they are close enough to us when in the Jupiter system, however, they may be able to interfere with our maneuvers by drawing off a significant portion of the fuel. We have more powerful dedicated lasers, but there is at least some risk, I would think."

  The general seemed to turn the matter over in his mind. "I thank you for this information. I will have to have it examined. Would you be so kind as to model the possible scenarios along with Dr. Svendsen? I would like to know as soon as possible if there is any likelihood of such an event."

  "Yes, sir." Horst stood there a moment longer, and as the general looked up again, said, "May I speak to you frankly, General?"

  Hohenheim's gaze was unreadable, but he sat back in a way that somehow made Horst nervous. "Please do."

  Horst hesitated, then took the plunge. "Why did we attack Ceres?"

  Hohenheim studied him expressionlessly for what seemed like an hour, even though it could only have been a few seconds. "Clarify your question, Mr. Eberhart. How exactly do you mean 'attack'?"

  "I mean that we hit them with a projectile weapon. There was no meteor at all, sir."

  "Ah," said the general, in the tone of someone who's been expecting bad news for a long time. "Might I ask how you came to this conclusion?"

  "I found a set of control applications that did not look familiar. When I examined them, I was able to determine what the exact systems were that they controlled."