Inside an asteroid. No way to escape, and no way to see out where the enigmas were. “The perfect prison from the aliens’ perspective.”
“Yes, sir.” Instead of being proud or pleased by the discovery, Lieutenant Iger grimaced. “I . . . don’t know of any way to get them out of there.”
Tartarus. Apparently the name for this star system was a fitting one.
THE hundreds of officers around the table in the fleet conference room listened with growing enthusiasm as Iger laid out his information, but as the intelligence officer stopped, Tulev shook his head slowly. “If we move one kilometer toward that asteroid, they will destroy it. They are willing to kill their own. They will not hesitate to kill those humans, too.”
“How close can we get before they do that?” Badaya asked.
Lieutenant Iger also shook his head. “I have no idea, sir. Based on our experience at Limbo, the aliens will wait until they are certain of our objective before they destroy it. And this particular target is very well hidden. If we hadn’t been keyed by the intercepted transmission, we probably wouldn’t have had any reason to study the asteroid closely and wouldn’t have discovered the equipment concealed on the surface of the asteroid. As long as they don’t believe we know humans are there, they probably won’t destroy the asteroid just because we head in that general direction.”
“Probably,” Armus repeated with a grimace.
“It’s the best we have, sir.”
Bradamont had been eyeing the depiction of the Tartarus Star System floating over the table. “It must be a restricted zone for them. If we had aliens in an asteroid, we wouldn’t allow unauthorized ships to get too close. If we passed inside that restricted area, it could also serve as the trigger for when the aliens decide to destroy the asteroid.”
“That’s plausible,” Armus conceded. “Something triggered automatically by a proximity alert, or by a faster-than-light signal from elsewhere in the star system. There’s no sign of alien presence on the exterior of the asteroid?”
“No, sir,” Iger said. “Just some very nicely camouflaged solar cell fields.”
Duellos nodded. “I can’t imagine they would live inside the asteroid with humans, even if separated by a strong barrier. But if we have no idea how large this restricted zone is, I don’t know how this speculation helps us.”
“They need some basis for a restricted area,” Bradamont said. “Both we and the Syndics measure those in light seconds, because it’s a simple standard, big enough to provide security but small enough not to be triggered by anyone blundering into the wrong area by accident.”
“How many light seconds do the Syndics use?” Tulev asked.
“One.” No one questioned how Bradamont would know that.
“The same as our standard space exclusion zones.”
Duellos frowned in thought. “The enigmas are certain to use some other means of measurement, but our parameters are based on practical considerations, as Commander Bradamont says. The physics are the same for the enigmas. If we stay at least one light second away, and don’t seem to be paying any attention to the asteroid, that may be a safe distance.”
“Make it four hundred thousand kilometers, well over a light second,” Tulev said. “But, still too far. That leaves plenty of reaction time for defenses or self-destruct mechanisms if we turn toward the asteroid. We have to reach it, match velocity and orbit, disable alien equipment on the surface, access the interior, and evacuate the humans living inside. How long to accomplish all of that? Half an hour from the closest point we dare approach?”
“More like an hour,” Desjani suggested, “even if you’re just using battle cruisers.”
Bradamont spoke again, more forcefully. “The auxiliaries can manufacture small stealth craft carrying small landing parties. If we can—” She stopped as she saw Captain Smythe shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, Commander,” Smythe said. “In the time we have, with what we have, I can’t promise being able to build anything large enough to carry a few people yet stealthy enough to have a decent probability of staying undetected.”
“Who would you send on a mission like that?” Badaya asked, the question apparently rhetorical yet also clearly aimed at Bradamont.
She flushed, but her voice stayed steady. “I volunteer to lead that mission.”
Geary broke the silence that followed Bradamont’s statement. “Unless we have a reasonable chance of success, there won’t be any mission. There’s no sense in killing our volunteers and the humans inside that asteroid by attempting a rescue with only a small chance of succeeding.”
“We can’t leave them,” Bradamont insisted.
“I agree,” Badaya said, “but—”
“Excuse me.” General Carabali had been speaking with someone outside the software, and now her voice easily carried across those of the others. “The Marines can do it.”
Badaya raised his eyebrows. “Four hundred thousand kilometers is a long jump, General. I don’t think Marines could manage that even if you told them there was beer on the asteroid.”
“They might if it was free beer, but we won’t have to motivate them in that manner.” A diagram popped up before Carabali. “Because of the nature of this mission to investigate the alien race, our equipment load-out includes a larger than usual amount of maximum-stealth configured armor, enough to equip thirty of my Marine scouts. I had some of my subordinates run the numbers, and we can do this. If the fleet launches those scouts toward the asteroid while passing by at four hundred thousand kilometers out, we should have a high probability of avoiding detection during launch and during the transit to the asteroid. Once on the surface of the asteroid, the scouts can plant scramblers and jammers, as well as disabling charges on any visible alien equipment. By blinding alien systems and jamming incoming and outgoing transmissions, we should be able to give the fleet time to reach the asteroid and launch shuttles to dock and pull people out of there as well as recover the scouts.”
Tulev leaned in. “What velocity will the scouts be traveling?”
“We need it to be slow enough to not stand out too clearly against background space, and slow enough for the suit systems to manage a braked landing on the asteroid that will neither kill the scouts nor have a high chance of their being spotted.” Carabali pointed to the diagram. “Average velocity would be four thousand kilometers per hour, though we’d want to be launched faster than that and be braking gradually during the last portion.”
Commander Neeson gave the general a startled look. “You can brake down from four thousand klicks an hour to a safe landing velocity and remain stealthy?”
“That’s right,” Carabali said. “My scouts say they can do it, and they’d be the ones placing their lives on the line.”
“Averaging four thousand kilometers per hour will still require four days’ travel time,” Geary objected. “Can your scout suits keep someone alive that long, plus the time needed to go over the asteroid and plant those charges and jammers?”
Carabali nodded. “We can hang on some extended-duty life-support packs, and use meds to slow down the metabolism of the scouts during the trip to the asteroid. That will both reduce the demands on their life support and the amount of heat and power usage that the stealth equipment has to conceal.”
“Can the jammers work against anything the aliens have?” Badaya questioned. “We don’t even know how their faster-than-light comms work.”
“The jammers have been upgraded using some ideas gleaned from the Syndic device for preventing gate collapses,” Carabali explained. “Just like our system security can eliminate the quantum probability–based alien worms without knowing how they work, we have a high degree of confidence that the jammers can halt the alien comms.”