Boundary 2: Threshold (29 page)

"Because of that, I think they have arranged something else. They may do an Oberth Maneuver, if they were able to arrange a rocket of some kind. They have been slowing—much more quickly than I would have expected—by interaction with the Jovian magnetosphere. The acceleration in question is still very small indeed, but the control they have over the magnetic bubble and its shape permits at least an order of magnitude greater deceleration capability than we could possibly have expected. Still, they will have to do something when passing Jupiter, as we do. Their final velocity will be the deciding factor. Unless they have some particular surprises in store for us, their speed when leaving Jupiter will tell us how fast they believe they can afford to go to Saturn."

He sighed and spread his hands. "I wish I could be more certain. If I must guess, I would say no, they cannot. While some minor points of their vessel have surprised me, they would need some very effective means of slowing down in order to make it practical for them to match the speeds we expect to reach."

"There's the problem for me," Fitzgerald said. "You think that Fathom, Baker, Buckley, and Secord can't do the same figuring between them?"

"They do not know what we can—"

Fitzgerald made a savage cutting gesture. "Bollocks. Maybe not before this, but you can bet your insurance that once this turned into a chase, little Miss Supergirl called in all her old chums and started digging. And tell me that I'm wrong when I say that once they figured out the mass-driver was running, they'd put the rest together very quickly, eh?"

That was a painful jab. LaPointe had never liked Fitzgerald even before Horst let him in on certain secrets, and sarcasm like this didn't help engender feelings of warmth and brotherhood. Especially when Fitzgerald was right. "No, I cannot argue that. They are very good at their jobs, and if they knew the mass-beam was being constantly in use, then they would be guessing the truth very quickly."

"So then, if they know that much, they must know they can't beat us. So either they've got something up their sleeves to pass us, or they have something figured that they can use to slow us or stop us."

The room was quiet as everyone tried to figure out a way of looking at the situation that didn't come out to that answer. From the expressions on the other faces, Anthony saw that no one else was getting anywhere with that. Richard Fitzgerald had a darkly satisfied look.

General Hohenheim shrugged finally. "Your logic appears sound, Mr. Fitzgerald, but the other facts remain. I find it hard to imagine that they have any weapons capable of harming us at such a range, and even less that they would be willing to use them on us at this point. While they may hold a grudge against some of our people for our trickery, none of them are monsters. They would not condemn a hundred of us to death for that. It is, I suppose, possible that the alien vessel itself has some unique trick that will allow them to match our speed, but that is something we can only wait and see. Even if we had weapons capable of firing upon them, we could no more use them than they could. It is a race, and we shall see which of us shall win. I would hope, however, that they will be courteous enough to talk when we reach a closer approach. We may learn much more in conversation."

He glanced around the table and fixed on Mia Svendsen. "On the very remote chance that they do intend some form of attack, I want things arranged to minimize damage, along with a complete set of scenarios for redundant controls, escape using
Munin
, and so on. Even if the scenarios appear ludicrous, they are worthwhile to consider. One day I am afraid they will not be so ludicrous."

"Yes, sir," Mia replied. "I will have them to you before closest approach."

"Good." Hohenheim rose. "Thank you, that will be all."

Horst caught up with LaPointe near his cabin. "You know they
do
have reason to think we are a real threat, Anthony."

"Yes, I do. It seems that we have at least three and possibly four factions on board. The general and those immediately involved in the attack on Ceres Base, you and I and our friends, and the rest of the crew of
Odin
who as yet know nothing of the outrage we have perpetrated."

Horst looked puzzled. "But you said four?"

"I am not convinced that General Hohenheim and Mr. Fitzgerald are a single faction. The security chief was responsible for the selection of a large number of our crew, and that is a concern to me."

Horst's dark eyebrows drew down. "Are you saying he is working against the general? That the general did not order the attack? Why would he not say so?"

Anthony found his friend's straightforward naiveté endearing but, in this case, a bit frustrating. "Because this is not Earth and he cannot just fire someone and send them home. He needs to maintain a unity in the crew, and at least outward harmony. If Fitzgerald did this in any way that could be justified by something the general said, then the general would be forced to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the relationship between them, it is not the same as it was when first we started, that I am sure of. It seems much more tense."

They entered Anthony's room. "Mr. Fitzgerald is not happy with our captain, I think," Anthony continued. "And while he has the same general need to keep some apparent peace, he's more than likely arranging to protect himself."

"But that would be mutiny!" Horst protested.

"It has happened before. In a sense, have we not been planning just that?"

The young German engineer looked pained. "Not really. I mean, we are just planning on how to keep from committing another crime."

Anthony spread his hands. "But it is the same thing, isn't it? If the order comes from our general or his designated representatives, disobeying and obstructing them would be mutiny."

Horst slowly nodded his head. "But Fitzgerald . . ."

"Oh, I agree. If he is planning something, it is much more likely to be something bad. But I do not think we should be sitting here ignoring the fact that we, too, may be considering the same basic crime."

"It's just an ugly word."

"And it would be even uglier were it to come to pass. Let us hope, that it does not, and all we see here is a race." He handed a surprised Horst one of the small bottles of wine he had brought as budgeted luxuries. "In fact, let us drink to that hope."

Horst nodded. "I will drink to that." After each had a glass, they tapped the plastic rims together. "To peace in our journey."

"Peace."

As they drank, Anthony could not help but notice that he saw Jupiter go blood-red as the
Odin
's rotation took the planet behind his glass.

Catastrophe, n: a great disaster or misfortune.

"Are we ready?"

"All ready," Maddie confirmed to Jackie. "While you talk with
Odin
directly, A.J. will be able to query the Faerie Dust that should be all over the
Odin
. The low-bandwidth transmissions involved should be easy to hide in the noise, as long as no one actually is looking for it."

Jackie winced. She hated unknowns like that. "And how likely is it someone will?"

Maddie shrugged. "I don't think
I
would be doing it in their position. I honestly don't think this idea would have occurred to me if Darth Baker hadn't pulled off that trick on Modofori and his pals. So I think it's pretty unlikely. I just don't make one hundred percent assumptions."

"Joe? You and A.J. ready?"

"Sure am," Joe said. "If they do go nuts and fire on us, we'll have quite a few seconds' warning. Even at closest approach, assuming they can manage a firing velocity of thirty kilometers per second—which I don't think they can, not even close—we'll still have five minutes or so. In that time, even with our effective acceleration cut by ten times because Jupiter's magnetosphere's squeezed us down, we can change position by four hundred fifty meters. Since the actual width of the
Nebula Storm
is only about a thousand feet, they almost certainly can't hit us at all."

"And," A.J. put in, "we've tied the engine system into our radar. If the radar plot shows something coming at us that my sensors say we can't avoid for sure by using the nebula drive, it'll give us a little kick from the main engines, however much it calculates it needs to get to full safe range. That still shouldn't be enough to change our main maneuver program, I hope. There's some leeway in the system."

"Just in case, we are all suited up, right?" Helen put in. "And I'm standing by with patch kits and a pair of hands to help. This isn't really my gig."

"Not mine, either," Larry pointed out. "But being ready to be damage control's better than just sitting in a chair waiting to see what happens."

"All suited up, Helen. And Joe says he's got damage-control programs in place."

"And of course," A.J. pointed out, "we also happen to be inside a ship made of the same material the Vault on Mars was. A thirty-kilometer-per-second projectile would probably get through, but much less might not."

Jackie nodded. "Still, let's hope none of that happens. On this pass, at least, everything should stay friendly." She looked around once more. "Okay, here goes."

She activated the radio, aiming toward the
Odin
for the first time in this journey. "
Odin
, this is Captain Jacqueline Secord of the Ares Exploratory Vessel
Nebula Storm
calling you, overtaking from approximately two hundred fifty thousand kilometers astern. Please acknowledge."

Twenty seconds passed with no return. Since the radio signal crossed the distance in less than one second, this indicated either someone wasn't listening, or there was some delay in responding. Jackie tapped her finger on her chair arm. It was hard to judge how long she should wait.

Just as she was about to repeat the message, the screen shimmered to life, showing General Hohenheim in what was apparently his office. "
Odin
returns your call,
Nebula Storm
. Welcome to Jupiter System. You have come fast on our heels, Captain Secord."

She relaxed fractionally; it looked like diplomacy would at least begin the day. And with that transmission, A.J.'s data had begun flowing. The programmed contingency allowed the Faerie Dust to transmit only when
Odin
itself was transmitting, so the longer they talked . . . 

"We know where you are headed, General. And it is my intention to beat you there."

After a second and a half passed, Hohenheim smiled. "Of course you do, Captain. While I admit to being—well, let us not be petty—utterly astounded that you had the audacity to take such an alien antique out into space on such short notice—and quite impressed by how well the vessel performs—I cannot pretend to be surprised at your intentions. You will, of course, forgive me if I say that it is my intention to beat you to Enceladus by a significant margin and claim the world, or as much of it as possible, for the European Union."

"Naturally."

"Might I ask why you have waited so long to call? We have—as I am sure you are aware—been trying to contact you since we first noticed the astonishing phenomenon of a nebula chasing us."

Jackie shrugged. "General, we had no warm feelings for any of you at the time, and direct communication with reasonable time lag wasn't really possible until now. You know how frustrating communication is with delays of more than a second or two. But consider this a courtesy call. We shall be passing
Odin
at a range of nine thousand, nine hundred and fifty-six kilometers and will then precede you farther into the Jupiter system."

"We had of course noted that, but your information is appreciated." The general studied her for a moment. "Captain, of one thing I wish to inform you—the actions taken to remove and conceal the information we have taken were done directly under my orders. There are members of my crew who were friends of yours, and I would find it sad to think that these friendships would be ruined by actions which—in truth—must have been at least somewhat expected by both sides."

Jackie didn't dare look around for support or hints.
Were we wrong? Was it just a terrible coincidence, an accident, something that just barely missed the
Odin
and hit us? Or is he trying to find out if we know. After all, no one's said anything about it.

That must be it, she decided. Hohenheim had to pretend nothing had happened. But she wondered what he was trying to say.
If we
do
know, or discover it . . .

"General, I suppose I agree, in principle," she said slowly. "But if you have spent considerable time with someone and they have used some of that information against you . . . That's a rather nasty betrayal, don't you think?"

Hohenheim nodded. "I would not blame people for being angry. But remember that there is duty, and these people had agreed to do what was done long before they met any of you. I assure you, it was not easy for them to do what they did, and it became harder with each day."

Images of Horst flashed in her mind: of him laughing next to her; the time he'd held her hand much longer than he needed to, after helping her through a hatch; the hours they'd spent talking.
All a fake?
It did seem hard to believe. Even Maddie and Helen had expressed their doubts.

She reminded herself sharply that keeping someone on
Odin
talking was the important point here, anyway. "I suppose it must have." She cut in the privacy switch. A.J. could still tell she was having a conversation, but now the images and sound would be projected to her VRD and into her suit alone.

"Since we will remain in reasonable communication range for a limited time . . . I know it may be slightly out of standard procedure, General, but might I talk with Horst Eberhart?"

Hohenheim's expression softened momentarily, in a startlingly warm way, and there was a faint twinkle in the brown-gold eyes. "Of course, Captain. I am sure Mr. Eberhart will be willing to give you a few moments of his time. Please stand by."

Perhaps a minute went by, although it seemed longer than that. Then Horst's face was in front of hers, blue eyes wide, uncertain, and . . . almost frightened? Could that really be an act? And if it had all been an act, why continue now?