Still, what they removed would hardly matter to something as big as this gas giant and its moons. Kris took a deep breath as she considered what kind of force could make such a difference.
“Chief, talk to me about that hot spot,” Captain Drago said.
“Nelly, pass all that we’ve gotten to the fleet,” Kris told her computer.
“Kris, I’ve been doing that. The other ships of the fleet have a lot of science aboard, too. Our data is just verifying what the other are concluding, as well. The Haruna has gone to General Quarters.”
“Pass the word to PatRon 10. General Quarters, Guns. Unknown cause.”
“Done, Kris.”
On the Wasp, the General Quarters’ Klaxon began to sound.
“We’re the closest to that moon, Captain Drago,” Kris said. “Would you close on it, please.”
Of all the ships in PatRon 10, only the Wasp had a contractor for a captain. He was older, more experienced, more mature. He drew his check from Admiral Crossenshield’s black-ops funds. He was here, Kris didn’t doubt, at King Raymond’s specific order to see that Kris didn’t do any of the damn fool stunts that he and Grampa Trouble had done before they reached old age.
Someday, she expected he would countermand one of her orders. She waited to see if today would be that day.
“Sulwan, put us closer to that unknown event,” he ordered.
“Aye, aye, sir,” the navigator replied.
So, not today, huh.
“Your Highness, the Intrepid is nearby,” Captain Drago observed.
“Yes, right,” Kris said, properly instructed. “Nelly, invite the Intrepid to join us in this little side trip.
“Done, Kris.”
On the screen, two dots broke from the strung-out line of ships still decelerating, aiming for a lower orbit of the giant. The Wasp and Intrepid, however, stretched their vectors to match the high orbit of the moon in question.
“Can somebody give me an idea of what we’re heading into before we actually ram that damn moon?” the captain snapped.
“It’s a rocky planetoid with no iron core. Its surface is a cold mix of vapors, some water, some methane, lots of crud,” the chief said. “Liquid, not gas. I don’t think there are any lakes; the moon’s surface looks pretty rough.”
“We boffins concur,” Professor mFumbo said.
“One small spot is showing hot,” the chief went on after a hasty breath. “I’m trying to get a visual, but that heat seems to be steaming off the volatiles. Radar . . .” He paused. “Radar isn’t coming back. Something’s driving our radar nuts.”
“Active or passive?” Kris and Captain Drago said at the same time.
“I can’t tell. I’ve got some sort of electromagnetic crap coming from there, but it’s not organized like anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Can you laser range it, get a picture that way?” Kris asked.
“I’m lasing it.”
“Nope, nothing,” he said a moment later. “Laser can’t get through the vapors.”
“Is there a gravity well?” Kris asked.
Every mass sets up its own gravity well. The very sensitive atom laser on the Wasp, designed to track twitchy jump points, was the most sensitive instrument for measuring variations in that weakest of the four natural forces. Weakest, but most important. Just ask any two-year-old trying to defy gravity with each step.
“Checking,” the chief said. A long moment later, he nodded. “There’s something solid there. There’s definitely more mass under that hot spot than there is in the rest of the moon.”
For fifteen long minutes, the rest of the fleet decelerated into lower orbit and went about beginning the process of refueling. Meanwhile, the Wasp and Intrepid cut back on their deceleration and swept toward a much higher orbit, one that would take them on a quick flyby of the mystery-shrouded moon.
Sulwan, good navigator that she was, guessed before Kris asked her that she’d like to know if they could transform their present course into an orbit around the moon. “Even decelerating at 3.5 gee, that option is already gone. We’ll need at least one orbit to match that moon. Maybe two if I miss a window.”
They were halfway to the moon when the chief announced, “Something is lifting off from our target moon. Whoever they are, they’re coming straight at us.”
9
“Raise defenses,” Kris ordered.
“Shields up,” said Sulwan as an umbrella of Smart MetalTM spread out in front of the Wasp. Battleships and cruisers were encased in ice, some of it meters thick, to ablate away the blazing sting of lasers and even kinetic weapons. Small ships like the Wasp, especially when it was wrapped in shipping containers full of scientists, Marines, and other gear could hardly use the ice defense.
The rotating umbrella of Smart MetalTM, especially if it was angled to the threat axis, not only provided protection but also gave the Wasp a chance to hide behind it.
Where, exactly, was the Wasp with respect to the spinning parasol?
Guess.
Meanwhile, Kris’s ship had four 24-inch pulse lasers ready to strike out with a sting of her own.
Slipping out farther to the left of the Wasp, the Intrepid deployed her own protection.
Ahead of them, the unknown continued to close.
“How fast is that sucker accelerating?” Captain Drago asked.
“Three-point-five, no three-point-eight gees, sir,” the chief reported.
“Can you get us a picture of it?” the captain asked.
“I got one as it launched, but the thing is spraying something into the space all around it now.” The chief tapped his board, and a small window opened on the main screen. It showed a series of spheres balanced on rocket fire.
“Fusion rockets?” Kris asked.
“I would guess so, from their temperature,” the chief said. “But I’m getting next to nothing from my electronic readouts.
“Nelly, hail it. Try every language we know,” Kris said. “Say ‘We come in peace,’ for starts.”
“Doing it, Kris.”
While Nelly tried to open a conversation, the ship continued to close the distance, eating up the kilometers.
“Is it going to try to ram us?” Sulwan asked.
“Get ready to take evasive action,” Captain Drago ordered. “Don’t do anything yet. It’s on a steady course. Let’s not juggle its elbow.”
The three ships closed. Nelly tried sending numbers to see if they would talk math back to her.
Then the thing hit them with a laser.
The spinning parasol did its job, rotating more Smart Metal TM into the vacancy as fast as the laser could make the hole. When the power hit ended, the parasol was still there. Nelly quickly patched it up, but the shield out there spinning was several meters smaller across.
“Ouch,” the chief said.
“That was not nice,” the captain agreed.
“Locked and loaded,” Kris said. “I think Nelly and I can graze it through all the gunk it’s pumping into the space around it.”
“Do it,” the captain said.
“Nelly, let’s open the largest sphere to space. Just a quick cut,” Kris said, moving the crosshairs on her board to show exactly where she wanted to hit the stranger.