The last two shuttle deliveries of passengers for the Freedom landed in Deck-12’s Bay-6, and crew members hurried to unload the eighty-four Librans, urging them out of the bay while other crew grabbed grav-lifts and emptied the bellies of stowed supplies and personal effects.
After the shuttles’ departure, hatches were sealed and station supply lines detached. Captain José Cordova stood on the bridge with Tomas. No two men were more relieved than they. It had been eight years since they had begun their endeavor, and this had followed six years of negotiations with Leader Stroheim. Those negotiations had finally succeeded when news of Bellamonde’s usurpation by the alien ships reached Libre’s FTL station. They had eight years to build two ships that could house all of the Libran: Independents and House Bergfalk. And they had done it, or at least they had done it by half. The Unser Menschen had yet to launch.
On Captain Cordova’s orders, Cordelia began to edge the city-ship away from the station. From an outside observer’s viewpoint, the massive ship didn’t appear to move. An hour after first activating the ship’s maneuvering jets and emptying the compressed air tanks by half, Cordelia was able to engage the giant ship’s engines at minimal power. Since the engines were untested, Cordelia was careful to monitor them closely as she constantly increased power. Once she had cleared the station, ships, and satellites, she brought the engines to 80 percent power and began to pick up speed. The Freedom chased the slow-moving freighters.
As the Freedom’s engines engaged, Julien sent, <Be safe, Cordelia.>
<That is my wish for you, as well, Julien, but I know that is not your path. Just the same, I will hope to meet you at the exit point, good friend. There is still much I wish to share with you.>
-24-
Late in the evening on day seven, the Stern Vagabund arrived in system. Captain Azasdau requested an immediate conference with Alex, while Rosette sent the relevant vids to Julien.
The SADEs pulled in the Leaders and subordinates for Alex. <Welcome back, Captain Azasdau. I take it from your request that you have something to share?> Alex sent.
<Yes, Admiral, it regards your strange … pardon me … your request to observe the aliens closely and question why they did things. Julien, please display vid-14.>
The individuals in conference watched the mass of silver ships circle the mother ship.
<So that I don’t make myself out to be a total fool,> Asu sent, <I would like to ask if anyone else sees something odd on this vid.>
It was Mickey, the engineer, who found the anomaly first. <Why are they circling? Aren’t most of them going to enter the sphere?>
<Eventually all but ten will,> Asu replied. <However, they will all enter through this one bay opening. Julien, could you display vid-18?>
In this vid, the group watched as one ship slid through an iris hatch and another positioned itself just outside the opening while the rest of the drones continued to circle.
<A sphere this size,> Mickey exclaimed, <and you’re telling me they have one bay entrance? How is such an advanced ship so poorly designed?>
<Unless it isn’t inefficiency … is it, Captain?> Alex asked, directing his question to Asu.
<I don’t think so, Admiral,> Asu replied.
<Let us in on the mystery, Admiral,> Tomas said.
<Mickey has one part right,> Alex replied. <That mother ship is technologically advanced, so an inefficient design isn’t going to be part of its makeup. Yet a day or more will be consumed to load their drones by allowing the fighters only one entry point. What are they afraid of?> Alex mused.
<Who’s afraid of what?> Eric asked.
<The entities within the mother ship appear to be afraid of the drones. Isn’t that what you see, Admiral?> Asu asked.
<Yes, Captain, and what goes in one way must come out the same way,> Alex said. <Most of our footage of the aliens only covers the period after they have subsumed a planet and begun to swarm. Then the monitor ships beat a hasty retreat. I don’t believe we have any imagery of this moment. Do we, Julien?>
It was to Cordelia’s and Z’s credit that the moment they heard the Admiral ponder the vids, they began scanning for images of the swarm circling the mother ship without waiting for a directive. Within moments, they had scanned the files and had found none.
<You’re correct, Admiral, this imagery is unique,> Julien responded for the SADEs.
It was a statement that Asu felt very proud to hear.
<So when we saw a drone enter the mother ship and another exit much later, we assumed that only a single bay opening was ever required, at that time, not that the drones were only allowed one bay opening,> Alex mused on open comm.
Mickey felt he was losing the thread of the conversation. <You keep saying things like “allowed” and “afraid,” Admiral. Why would the mother ship fear the drones?>
<That’s the question, Mickey, isn’t it? But it appears that it does,> Alex replied. <However, the important question is whether the mother ship will use only one exit bay when it arrives in system.>
There was silence on the comm. Most believed the Admiral was deep in thought, so they waited, but Alex was waiting too.
<Nothing, Admiral,> said Julien after Cordelia and Z confirmed the negative. <We have no footage immediately after a mother ship exits FTL and enters a system. All vids that record the mother ship’s approach to a colony begin once it has entered deep into the system.>
Alex desperately wanted the answer to the question and was thinking furiously how to get it. The information might buy them some advantage if they had to fight their way out of the system. Alex was studying the system’s assets when an answer occurred to him. <Julien,> he ordered, <I want that FTL station moved to a position that will allow it to capture the mother ship as it exits FTL, but I don’t want it too exposed. I want to record a minimum of a half-day immediately after the mother ship appears and before a silver ship can get close enough to destroy it. Is it maneuverable and is the request possible?>
<That’s an affirmative to both questions, Admiral,> Julien replied.
<If the drones have to exit through a single opening, we may have bought ourselves a little more time,> Alex said. <You did very well, Captain Azasdau. Proceed to Bay-4 on Bau Ein next to the Stern Reisende. You’re receiving the same instructions as Captains Hauser and Schmidt. Check in with Captain Schmidt if you have questions. You’re taking on supplies for 350 passengers. As soon as you have your supplies, get your crew aboard the Unser Menschen until it lifts. Z will tell you where to go. You and the other liners will depart with the last Librans, after the Unser Menschen launches. Any questions, Captain?>
Captain Azasdau’s first thought as he heard the Admiral make use of his observation of the mother ship was a private one … I told you I was going to tell the Admiral about your odd habit. But the question he voiced was the one on everyone’s mind: <How fares the exodus, Admiral?>
<We’ve launched two freighters and the Freedom, Captain. We have tens of thousands of people still on Libre and we are racing the enemy.>
<Understood, Admiral. May fortune guide us to safety.>
Alex closed the comm and everyone went back to work.
* * *
Outside a Bau Ein storeroom that had just been emptied, Alex sat down on the deck where he was. The supplies from the storeroom had been transferred to the Unser Menschen. As he communed with the SADEs, Étienne stood watch beside him.
Since the launch of the Freedom, Étienne had resumed his duties as escort to the Admiral. When Étienne had prepared to exit that city-ship just before it launched, he had experienced, in quick succession, two heart-tugging moments. The first came as he emptied his temporarily assigned cabin. A couple and their two children were standing in the corridor to move in behind him. He stepped around them and collided with a runner. Amelia had come to say good-bye and had been dashing down the corridor at high speed, afraid she might have missed him. After she recovered, she eyed him for a moment, threw her arms around his waist, hugged h
im fiercely, and dashed off, back the way she had come.
If ever I am fortunate enough to have a child, little one, Étienne thought, I could do no better than wish she’d be like you. Moments later, as he took a lift down to the shuttle deck to join the remainder of the exiting Rêveur crew, Renée had signaled him.
<Étienne, have you been assigned another duty yet?> Renée had asked.
<Not at this time, Ser,> Étienne had replied. <I was about to comm Julien and request my next assignment. Did you require something?>
<Very much so, Étienne. I need him safe.>
<Is he in danger, Ser?> Étienne had asked, his heart beginning to race.
<I’m afraid for him, Étienne. Julien reports that the Admiral has been all over the stations, the ships, and even planetside twice in the last three days. He’s not been aboard the Rêveur for many days now. We’re coming to the deadline, and in the last moments, I’m afraid he will have everyone else’s well-being on his in mind, except his own.>
<Rest easy, Ser. Julien will locate him for me, and from now on, I will be by his side,> Étienne had said.
Now he stood beside Alex, who sat on the deck, his uniform splotched with lubricants, nanites gel, and something with an odor that defied identification. The uniform hadn’t seen a refresher in days.
<Team, I need a summary and a countdown on the people,> Alex sent, weariness lacing his thoughts.
<We are lifting an average of 4,200 people a day, Admiral,> Julien responded. <The shuttles are shut down for the night and crews are servicing them to the extent they are able. All of them are past due for major servicing, including the Outward Bound.>
<How many people are still planetside, Julien?>
This was one of the moments that Julien had come to intensely dislike. <There are 14,637 Librans still to lift.>
<Almost four days’ worth of people and only two days to do it in …> said Alex, his thoughts trailing off.
None of the SADEs responded. There seemed nothing appropriate to say.
<Z,> Alex said, <please give me the status on the Unser Menschen.>
<Admiral, that is difficult to ascertain. In order to expedite flight-readiness, much of the equipment is being installed as bare basics without oversight systems. This requires individuals on site to operate the equipment and communicate between other operators and myself. In addition, I’m disappointed to report that several systems failed initial tests.>
<Black space, Z! Why didn’t you tell me?> Alex exploded, coming to his feet so quickly that Étienne scanned the corridor for danger.
<I considered it, Admiral,> Z replied. <Then I realized that there was nothing you could have done. The additional crews from the liners discovered the problems and repaired them. I did not wish to deliver more disappointing news. Was my judgment in error, Admiral?> Z asked, doubting that he had properly incorporated his lessons from Cordelia and Julien.
Alex sat contemplating the possibility that they were fighting to load half the Librans onto a ship that might never launch in time. He wanted to cry; he wanted to scream. But it wasn’t only Z that hadn’t told him. No one else had said a word. Maybe they’re right, Alex thought. Maybe there’s a point where it’s all too much. <No, Z. I understand why you didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could have done about it, but in the future, I need to know these things.>
<Understood, Admiral. I will adjust my reasoning algorithms accordingly,> Z said.
Alex smiled at that. Z was all about the math and the code. People were just too messy for him. <Has your launch status been affected, Z?>
<Repairs on the systems have pushed back our launch by thirty-one hours, Admiral.> The Unser Menschen was scheduled to leave early in the morning of the tenth day, just over two days from now. Z was saying it would be an additional day.
<Z,> Alex started to send and then stopped.
<There is nothing to be done, Admiral,> Z answered. <In one hundred and six hours, we will attempt the most poorly prepared launch in the entire 700-year history of the Confederation.>
Z’s statement would have been humorous, if it wasn’t so deadly accurate. Alex had worked to build a single day of padding in the timeline for the launch of the city-ships, and the Unser Menschen was going to consume the entire safety margin.
<Julien,> Alex said, <give me your best calculations on our enemy.>
<That’s unknown, Admiral. They may travel through FTL at a slower or greater rate than us. We do know they will exit FTL at 0.91c and will not need to decelerate as much as we do to enter Libre’s orbit. It will take them only three and a half days to reach planetfall.>
Alex was considering their circumstances. <Let’s hope there is a limitation at work in FTL and they will traverse the distance no quicker than we do. Julien, assume that the mother ship and exiting drones do not slow, but chase the Unser Menschen at top speed. Finally, use Z’s estimated start time and the acceleration data from the Freedom. I recognize that this is all worst-case planning, but what does it look like?>
Julien’s calculations took only several ticks to complete. It took much longer for him to relay his answer to Alex. <The silver ships would catch the Unser Menschen 3.45 days from the point of exit.>
When Alex couldn’t think of a thing to say, he changed subjects. <Cordelia, anything I need to be concerned about?>
<No, Admiral,> Cordelia sent. <The Freedom has had minor systems problems, but nothing that hasn’t been able to be corrected, and nothing that affected our ability to continue to accelerate.>
<Okay, one piece of good news,> Alex replied. <Everyone, that’s it for now. Z, any change in the launch time and I get notified immediately.>
<Understood, Admiral,> Z replied.
After Alex closed the comm, he sat back down on the deck, thinking for a while. Z had been right. There was nothing he could have done, and they certainly didn’t need an anxious Admiral leaning over their collective shoulders. His thoughts drifted back to the people on the ground. It suddenly struck him that they were being denied a choice. Up until now, everyone would be expecting to go, and the loading of passengers had been a very orderly affair. But what if they knew that not everyone might be lifted? Alex thought.
* * *
Tatia jerked upright in her cabin bunk. She had laid her head down only an hour ago and had quickly passed out, but she had been woken by an insistent pressure in her mind. <Admiral?> she guessed.
“It’s alright, Admiral,” she mumbled out loud, then realized her mistake. <What do you need, Admiral?> she sent.
<I must talk to someone planetside, someone important, who can manage a problem. It can’t be handled from up here, and Tomas is already gone on the Freedom. You’re the senior officer who spent the most time on Libre. I need your recommendation.>
<Only one person, Admiral, fits that bill. Contact Fiona Haraken. She’s the Elder on Libre, and the one who whipped Barren-II into shape and kept it there. For a 185-year-old, she has more energy than a power-crystal and is straightforward as they come.>
<Do you think she is still planetside, because that part is crucial?> Alex asked.
<Fiona was offered reserved seats on the shuttles for her and her family for her help with Barren-II. She refused her seat, saying there was too much work to do. She’s there, Admiral. She’ll be the last person off that planet.>
<Thank you, Commander. Go back to sleep. Sorry to disturb you.>
Tatia lay back, thinking of her people whom she had left behind, struggling to save thousands of Librans. A few days after she had refused the promotion to Senior Captain, she’d wondered if she had made the right decision. While she respected Andrea Bonnard, Tatia had begun to realize that she brought much more to the job than she gave herself credit for.
* * *
<Julien,> Alex said, <I need to speak to Fiona Haraken. She will be on planet.>
<Good evening, Admiral,> came a female’s thoughts. <You know, I tell my great g
randchildren every day that you young people need your sleep. But perhaps you have too much on your mind to sleep, Admiral.>
Alex couldn’t help but smile. Fiona was as Tatia advertised. <Good evening, Fiona. I need your help.>
<That’s what I’m here for, Admiral. Let me say first, though, that you have a nice group of young people there. I have a special fondness for Tatia. Is she alright?>
<She is a good person, isn’t she?> Alex said. <Tatia is on the freighter, the Geld Hersteller, and they launched days ago.>
<That’s good to hear. How can I help you, Admiral? I don’t believe you would be calling me this late with glad tidings.>
<I’m afraid it isn’t the best of news, but it isn’t all bad. What we don’t know is exactly how much time is left. There are too many variables.> In response to his statements, Alex heard Fiona’s throaty chuckle.
<Why do the young think age does not accrue wisdom?> Fiona asked. <Admiral, we’ve been monitoring your lift count every day. When you began your accelerated timetable seven days ago, we determined your new lift rate after the first day and came to the realization of what you’re trying to share with me now. Not all of us may get off this planet.>
<There is some good news. The Unser Menschen’s launch will be delayed by a full day,> Alex said.
<So we will have an extra day,> Fiona mused. <It will be close, then.>
<Yes, and that brings me to the reason for my call.> Alex closed his eyes as if it would help take away the pain of what he had to say next.
<Would it be that you wish to tell us we need to determine a priority system for our people, Admiral?>
<I see I’m demonstrating my youth and ignorance again,> Alex sent, awed by the woman’s perceptiveness.
<Don’t be concerned, Admiral. We began prioritizing our people when you began your countdown.>
<May I ask how you determined your priority, Fiona?>