"What are you suggesting, Angela?"
"I think we should arrange to take a close look as it goes by."
"Is there time?"
"We can arrange an intercept. We won't have much time alongside, because the ship can't begin to match the object's velocity in the time available. But we can get a quick glimpse, and maybe the sensors will be more effective up close." She looked at Carson. "What do you think?"
"Can't we catch it later if we have to?" He directed the question to Hutch.
She considered it. "Hazeltines are notoriously poor for pinpoint work. We did pretty well at Beta Pac, but that's the exception. Usually, you pick a star system, and land somewhere in the general neighborhood. With something that's moving trie way this thing is, if we let it get away, we might never see it again."
"I don't think running after it right now would be prudent," Carson said.
Angela frowned. "I can't see any problem. Terry's a good pilot. And he will keep a respectful distance."
"No," he said.
"Frank," said Angela, "the real risk is in not going."
He rolled his eyes and opened a channel to the ship. "Let's talk about it," he told her.
Janet appeared on the main display. "How's the Neighborhood Improvement Group doing?"
"Not bad," said Carson. "Where's Terry?"
"Right here." The screen split.
"What would you think about intercepting the object? Go out and take a close look?"
He consulted his display and blew unhappily through his fingers. "We'd need to move pretty fast. I make it about two and a half days at max to lay in alongside it."
"Can you wait for us?"
"Frank, this ride is already going to hurt."
"How do you feel about doing it?"
He looked over at Janet. "You game?"
"Sure."
They could see his reluctance. "I don't know," he said.
"Terry," pleaded Angela, "we might not get another chance."
Hutch looked at her. She wanted this badly, and it was clouding her judgment. "It would leave us without a ship," she pointed out. "I don't know whether that's a good idea either."
"Don't need one," said Angela.
Janet shrugged. "Don't hesitate because of me."
"I can't see," said Angela, "that there's anything to lose."
Carson wanted to go. That was obvious. But the assorted shocks on this expedition had taken their toll. Hutch could see his natural instincts struggling with his newfound caution. And she saw them win. "Anybody else with an objection?"
Drafts looked sidewise at his partner. "If Angela wants it, and Janet has no problem, I'd like to do it."
"Okay." Colonel Carson returned. "Let's go."
There were a few last-minute technical conversations. Drafts entered flight requirements into the navigation systems. They would use Flickinger fields to help negate some of the effects of acceleration.
Within thirty minutes of making the decision, the Ashley Tee lifted out of orbit into an acceleration that mashed its crew into their seats.
"You okay?" asked Drafts.
"Fine," she said breathlessly.
"It'll be a sixty-two hour run."
In the screens, Delta, the orange ice world, diminished rapidly to a small globe, and then to a point of light. After a while, only the gas giant remained. Soon it too was only a bright star.
LIBRARY ENTRY
Dragon in the dark,
Your eyes move across the stars,
Your breath warms the moon.
— April 24, 2203 (Found in unassigned file on Ashley Tee)
29
Delta. Wednesday, May 18; 0930 hours
The operation on the small mesa had gone so well that they hoped to finish by the end of the day.
They sliced and buffed until they had three smooth rock walls set at (almost) right angles to each other. Then they turned to the task of straightening the fourth side, with its massive notch. Carson regretted not having the capability to fill the indentation rather than have to pare off the walls on either side. But never mind: he would manage.
They had developed reasonable facility with the 1600, and were now enjoying themselves. Whenever possible, they stationed themselves on the ground. But for the most part it was necessary to take to the air, and work from above the mesa. Angela pointed out that they were in violation of a wide variety of safety procedures. But she swallowed her reservations, took them up, and, on signal, rolled the shuttle onto its side. In back, restrained by his tether and Hutch's makeshift harness, Carson rode the 1600, looking straight down. "You're perfectly safe," Hutch assured him.
After about an hour, they changed places. Hutch enjoyed aiming the big cannon, and they learned how to employ the sensors to see through the steam, and so became more proficient. By the time they broke for lunch, a substantial portion of the rear wall lay in rubble. But they had a rectangle!
The limiting factor in getting to the rendezvous point and laying in alongside the cloud was not the capability of the ship, but that of its crew to withstand prolonged acceleration. They would arrive with aching joints and sore backs, and they would have only a few seconds before the target sailed past and left them hopelessly behind. To ameliorate these effects,
Drafts programmed in frequent breaks in the acceleration, during which they could get up and move around. It would not be a comfortable ride, but it would be livable.
Hutch distrusted hastily planned maneuvers as a matter of instinct. She wondered at the necessity for this trip. Angela's logic made sense: there was probably another one coming. Why not go after it at their leisure? She was annoyed that Janet had not supported her. Instead, she'd allowed herself to get caught up in the general enthusiasm. They were making snap decisions again, without considering all the consequences. She wondered whether they had learned anything at Beta Pac.
She derived some satisfaction from knowing that Janet was now pinned in her webchair by the acceleration. Served her right.
They inspected their work on the south mesa. Seen from the air, it was a child's block, an orange rectangle. "I wish we could change its color," said Carson. "The Oz-structures were highly reflective, and they stood out from their surroundings."
"You think that matters?" asked Hutch.
"I don't know. It might."
It occurred to Hutch that the pumpkin-colored block below might be as hard for some future mission to explain as Oz had been.
The eastern mesa was next. It was three times as big as the one they had just worked on, less regular, heavily scored. Moreover, when they started on it, they discovered it was brittle. Its walls shriveled at the touch of the energy beam, and whole sections crumbled away. They experimented with intensity and angle, and discovered that overhead shots with low power worked best. "Like everything else," Carson said as they sliced and polished, "the only thing that succeeds is finesse. The light touch."
Communication with Ashley was becoming difficult. After twenty-four hours, the ship had traveled approximately fifteen million kilometers. At that distance, laserburst signals required almost two minutes to make a round trip. Conversations became slow and frustrating, and the two groups began to feel their isolation from each other.
The ground team slept through the night-phase. But all three were up early, anxious to get started. They treated themselves to a substantial breakfast, and went back to the eastern plateau.
They hoped to finish the wall they'd started the previous day, and fashion the corner. Hutch liked doing comers. They were a break from the routine.