In the forward left hold, Major Quinn held a roll of duct tape in one hand and an eight-foot-long crowbar in his other. His fatigue shirt was soaked with sweat and his short hair was plastered tight against his skull. Doctor Leahy was leaning over a set of diagrams, running her finger along a circuit, occasionally looking up to compare the diagram with the device that she was directing Quinn to build.
So far, all he had done was lay out a set of plastic “footprints” as Leahy called them, in an elliptical configuration, twenty feet long by ten wide.
“One of the problems people have had with Tesla coils,” Leahy said, “is that they were using the wrong material for the wire and they were simply wrapping it in a standard, circular coil. However, the major problem is that they used the wrong material to support the coils. When you produce an electromagnetic field of such intensity, most material will draw off some of the power. More importantly, though, is the frequency.”
Quinn nodded, as if he had a clue what she was talking about.
Leahy left the plans and went to a large plastic case. She undid the latches and threw the top open. “I’ve been working on this off and on for the past twenty-five years.”
“Why?” Quinn asked as he walked over to see what was in the box.
“Because I studied Tesla and his inventions in college and I realized he was on to things, but for some strange reason, the scientific community had never followed up on his theories.”
“What is that?” Quinn asked. A complex series of different-colored wires, woven about six marble posts was inside the box. He had never seen anything like it.
“The core of a modified Tesla coil — pretty close to what you uncovered, but I see now I was wrong about a few things.”
“Can you modify it?”
Leahy smiled. “Hell, yeah.”
CHAPTER 18: THE PRESENT
Six space-suited Airlia clung to the top of the quarter-mile-high third pylon. Below them was the bowl the mech-machines had dug out, covered with black mesh laid on top of struts. Other Airlia were in the center of the bowl, having secured cables from the tops of the other two pylons and awaiting the last set of cables from this one.
The final piece of pylon was secured in place. The six Airlia stood on a narrow platform to the side and activated a control. Cables inside the pylon spun out, slowly descending in the weak Martian gravity.
Once the cables reached the bottom, they were secured by the waiting Airlia to a large wire mesh basket. Then they turned and looked toward the lip of the bowl, where the track that carried the green crystal had been parked. With a lurch it began to move, heading down toward the center, moving very slowly underneath the metal array.
“I think Aspasia’s Shadow disabled the mothership’s weapons system.”
Turcotte kept his eyes closed. He recognized Yakov’s voice and assumed it was the Russian’s large hand on his shoulder that had just woken him.
“I’ve been trying to work the console he was using,” Yakov continued, “and it’s dead.” Turcotte sighed. “So even in death he still tries to foil us.” He opened his eyes and swung sideways, putting his feet on the deck. “We didn’t know if we could use the mothership’s weapons anyway. So we stick with our original plan. How is Leahy doing with Tesla’s weapon?”
“I don’t know.”
Turcotte stood. He felt better but still tired. It would take a week of sleep for him to make up for all he had recently been through. “How far from intercept with the Swarm ship?”
“An hour.”
Turcotte left the room and turned right down the main corridor. The hatch to the hangar Leahy and Quinn were in was open and Turcotte paused in the opening, taking in the strange device that the two were laboring over. It looked more like a power substation than a weapon. A center twenty-foot tower stood among a series of looped coils. On top of the tower was a platform with six marble columns and wires wrapped around them.
“Is it ready?” Turcotte asked, not expecting a positive response. “Almost,” Leahy replied.
“We’re less than an hour out from the Swarm ship,” Turcotte said. “Will it be ready by then?” “Theoretically.” Leahy had a wrench in her hands and was tightening something down at the base of the tower.
“‘Theoretically’?” Turcotte repeated. “Why doesn’t that give me a warm and fuzzy feeling?”
Yakov cleared his throat. “Do we have a plan B for intercept if we can’t use that?” He indicated the Tesla weapon.
“I wasn’t too clear on the details of plan A,” Turcotte said. “Never mind come up with a plan B. Theoretically,” he continued, loudly enough so that Quinn and Leahy could hear him, “plan A should be ready by the time we make intercept.” He turned toward the main corridor. “I’m going to suit up.”
“What kind of weapons does this ship have?” Duncan stared at Garlin. “None.” “You lie.” “Why do you need weapons?” Duncan asked.
“What kind of weapons does this ship have and how are they activated?”
Duncan shook her head, trying to clear the pain of the most recent probe. “This ship has no weapons.”
The drip of blood from Garlin’s left ear was a steady trickle. His skin was paler than it had been. The side of his face was constantly jumping as if from a nervous tic.
“Nothing? Particle beam? Plasma? Arrayed pulse?”
Duncan laughed bitterly. “Those were all beyond our capabilities.”
“Then how did you overthrow the Airlia on your planet?” “Blood. Lots of it. And we helped them defeat themselves.”
Garlin remained still as the tentacle inside absorbed this information. Her answers were not acceptable. The orb had detected a mothership closing on this ship with an intercept coming shortly. A scan of the oncoming craft revealed its weapons systems were off-line, which reduced the threat considerably. The Swarm was evaluating options.
“Defensive capabilities?” Garlin asked. “Is someone chasing us?”
“If this ship is destroyed,” Garlin said, “you will be adrift in space. You will die, come back to life and die again. For eternity.”
“Who is after us? The Airlia?” Duncan’s eyes widened. “Turcotte. He’s coming.” “It would do you well to tell me about the ship’s capabilities.”
Duncan laughed. “I will never help you.”
“Then you will suffer until you tell us.” Garlin picked up the saw he had used on her hand. He slashed down with it across Duncan’s right arm, cutting through the forearm.
Duncan screamed and thrashed against the straps holding her down.
Just as Garlin finished cutting through her arm, there was an explosion, and the ship canted hard left. He fell forward, the saw cutting into his own chest, splattering his blood on lop of Duncan’s. Garlin staggered back from the gurney, looked at the hole in his chest, and died.
At the controls, the Swarm orb jerked the ship about to avoid hitting another mine.
“Range?” Turcotte asked.
“One thousand kilometers and closing rapidly,” Yakov replied over the radio net. “Hold on. It’s changing course. Taking evasive action.”
“Then it knows we’re coming,” Turcotte said.
“Hard to hide this ship,” Yakov said. “We’re still closing.”
Turcotte was in a forward cargo bay along with the rest of Captain Manning’s team. They were suited and ready to go.