The Universe — or Nothing by Meyer Moldeven (i like reading .txt) 📕

Brad keyed the Slingshot complex closer on a nearby computer screen. Generally familiar with the schematics of the Slingshot stations, he was overwhelmed by the two enormous cones and their peripherals, which configured the Terminals' hoppers. Each terminal, almost three kay across its base, formed an intricate maze of interlocked spars, beams, panels, conduit and modules.

The Slingshot stations were centers of activity. Inside and out, the work areas were crowded. In all directions were massive and intricate fusion generators, transformers and power distribution systems; dozens of spherical, rectangular and cylindrical workshops and clusters of habitat, first aid stations, transports and tugs and barges pushing, pulling, warping and traversing. It was a picture of enormous structures and modules spread across the visible space ahead. The scene was geometric, multidimensional, and seemingly chaotic.

Separated from each other by more than a hundred kay of open space, the Terminal schematic expanded rapidly on the Dragon's screens as the fleet narrowed the gap. At Point Icarus the Slingshot construction site filled more than half the view tanks space.

Brad and Drummer watched as changes occurred hastily throughout the Terminals' space. Lights dimmed or blacked out entirely; others increased intensity. Three destroyers darted through the protective force field's gates, deployed, and took defensive positions. A mine-layer advanced, came about and laid a pattern of tac-nuclear eggs.

The Plutonian Assault Force had been quickly detected. Their intentions obvious, Slingshot's managers prepared as best they could to defend themselves. Scores of transports were lined up to escape through the gateway; those that had reached the outside lumbered away toward deep space.

 SOLAR LEADERS ARRIVE FOR CONFERENCE
 TRANS-SOLAR NEWS SERVICE
 FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
 FLASH: SYSTEM-WIDE
 Filed at Solar Conference Site

The Leaders of the United Inner Planetary System (UIPS) and the Independent Nations of the Outer Region (INOR) are at the place they selected to resolve urgent Solar System problems of mutual concern. Here's how the arrangements worked out.

Consistent with the schedule, the INOR guests flashed their international identification and ship numbers to the Conference Control Center to report that they had formally arrived in response to President Camari's invitation.

Concurrently, at a signal from the UIPS President's ship Eagle, the station flashed an array of multicolored beacons. Docking berths along the Conference Site's rim opened and controllers transmitted "Ready" signals to the visiting flagships. Tugs, utilities, and emergency craft took their stations.

The UIPS Eagle nosed forward and matched its headings and moments to the Disk. Mass attractors took over, fine-tuned the alignment and drift, and gently drew the Eagle a third its length into the dock. Mooring beams grasped the vessel and it was transfixed. A red and white candy-striped umbilical snaked out from the dock and sealed against the Eagle's main portal.

Eagle, the host, had docked.

Turning to the guests, the "Ready" signals flashed again. Taking the lead, Planet Pluto's Revenge matched up and was drawn into its docking space. The others followed. The disk was transformed into a multi-spoke wheel spinning slowly against the backdrop of sun, planets, satellites, space colonies and stars.

The umbilicals' seals tested and secure, the Heads of State disembarked, each followed by an entourage of advisors, diplomats, strategists, economists, interplanetary law specialists, sociologists, philosophers, and others expert in the disciplines appropriate to the agenda.

The parties walked along separate corridors from their docking berth to an arched entry into the conference theater at the hub. The pseudo-gravity plates had been eased to a comfortable level for the inhabitants of the Outer Region. The representatives of Earth wore soft enhancer boots to compensate.

The central hall was huge, and the round table at its center wide enough to accommodate them all. Massive chairs were at the table, and behind each a row of smaller chairs to accommodate the lessors. A holoview tank, suspended halfway to the overhead, glowed softly. The walls were festooned with the emblems and insignia of all Nations in attendance.

Arriving under the arch, the Leaders paused. President Camari stepped away from his chair, his open arms an invitation to all to enter and join him at the table.

Entering and approaching the table, the Leaders turned to right and left to greet each other. Formality aside for the moment, they expressed their pleasure at seeing one another again, or in meeting for the first time. They came together at the table and formed small groups.

Camari and Narval took each other's measure as they worked their way forward. Camari, as host, paused at each knot or singular meeting to shake hands and express his pleasure to each Head of State for accepting his invitation. Politicians all, supreme diplomats of the Solar Community, they accommodated to the occasion and replied in kind.

Camari and Narval came face to face. Silence gripped the room.

"Greetings, President Narval," Camari said, "your presence at this conference will contribute much to its success."

"Greeting to you, President Camari. I feel certain that it will."

"I remind you, President Narval, these are indeed desperate times. Extraordinary measures are essential if we are to preserve our civilizations, perhaps our species. Separately or collectively, we must be prepared to take risks for our survival. Do you agree?"

"Not only do I agree, Mr. President, but I shall remind you of your words as we proceed through these deliberations."

"So be it."

Camari nodded and turned away. With everyone's eyes on him, he strode to his place at the table, spread his arms again wide in welcome, and sat.

Greetings over, the Solar System's leaders took their places at the great table. Their advisors entered and took seats behind them.

The first convocation for the survival of the entire Solar Community was under way.

Captain Hyk strode the bridge impatiently.

"Point Icarus in ten minutes," he reported to Drummer and Brad as they entered the tight compartment. "The Jovians and Saturnians are coming up fast, and the Neptune-Uranus team is close behind. Orders?"

"You'll get yours with the rest, Har," Drummer's tone reflected his tension. He turned to Brad.

"Brad, I wish to address the Commanders of all Plutonian ships. Set up closed communications, please."

"Yes, sir."

Brad strode to the console he and Drummer had used to assess the fleet's status a short while before. He detached a microphone from the bulkhead nearby, keyed the computer, and spoke.

"Attention, all ship Commanders of the Plutonian Assault Force. Rig for secure 'Commanders Only' communications with Admiral Drummer. The Admiral will speak in one minute. Countdown — start now."

He handed the mike to Drummer. The first of many uncertain steps would now be taken.

Drummer glanced at the ship's chronometer, then at Captain Hyk.

Time.

"Ship commanders, Admiral Drummer here. Our allies are approaching in formation and they will link up with us in seven minutes at Point Icarus. We must greet them properly. I order the Plutonian formation to come about immediately from its head-on orientation to the Terminals and cluster to face our allies. Do it now. At Point Icarus I will address the combined fleet."

Drummer paused, then added, "I am turning over the details of this change in formation to my Chief of Combat Operations. Follow his instructions without hesitation."

Drummer handed the microphone to Brad and stepped back. Brad rattled off the revised orientations and positions, ship by ship listed in the Order of Battle. Both he and Drummer watched the effects in the observation pit's view tank.

As Brad spoke the close order of the original formation dissolved and opened. The maneuver was extremely complex, but within minutes the ships had come about in a ragged formation to face their oncoming allies.

Out of the corners of his eyes Brad observed Hyk input orders to the Dragon's guidance control and navigation centers. Hyk glared at Drummer as if the man was out of his mind. Brad expected the other Commanders to be equally perplexed and angered by the unexpected reorientation.

Drummer, by his order without prior notice and planning, had completely disrupted the Plutonian tactical formation. Valuable time would be spent to sort out the confusion and array for the assault.

##

Captain Yargoul, Commander of the Jovian Combined
Strike Team, stood on the bridge of the Battle
Cruiser Windstorm and scowled into his view tank.
The unconventional redeployment of the Plutonian
Assault Force amazed and appalled him.

"What in hell are they doing?" Yargoul pointed at the tank as his Executive stared aghast over his shoulder.

"Damned if I can tell, Captain Yargoul," replied his deputy. "This isn't called for in the rendezvous plan."

"I don't like it. Get nav on this right now and pass the word to our ships' Commanders. Assume a waiting formation ten thousand kay from the rendezvous. Get the Commanders of the Saturnian and Neptune-Uranus teams into a closed conference call with me. I'm going to suggest they do the same until we find out what this is all about."

"They smell the rat," Brad thought as he watched the oncoming fleets slowly alter their formations. He hastily left the command deck.

Walking swiftly along a passageway he passed Hodak at a workbench calibrating instruments as cover. Their eyes met and Brad moved on. Hodak switched off his test panels and headed toward a side passageway.

Myra, checking medical supplies in a wall cabinet, glanced at Hodak's features as he brushed by. His grunt caused her to close the cabinet and walk off. Kumiko and Adari would soon have the message.

##

The storage compartment was tiny, barely enough to hold them.

"Drummer will be talking to all ships' Commanders in the combined fleet in less than a minute," Brad told them. "I want to be there when he does so that I can deal with their reactions. Also, Hyk is a problem. I expect they'll all line up against us, including the Plutonian crews. The best we can hope for is a short delay while they argue among themselves. It's up to the five of us; six, really, if I can count on Drummer."

Brad looked from one tense face to the other.

"Hodak, your first job is Scarf. As soon as he hears Drummer he'll come charging up with his goons to take over the ship. Stop him."

"Kumiko, to the ship's fire controls. Do as much damage there as you can without being detected. I want as many as possible of the Dragon's long-range guns inoperative."

He turned to Myra.

"Suit up and head for the hangar deck where the two-place fighter-bombers are in position for launch. Tell the officer-in-charge I sent you to check combat readiness. I want three two-place jobs up front on catapults, fully charged and armed, hot and ready for launch. The officer on duty is sure to ask why it's you that's giving the orders. Just say that the fighters are going after the Terminals' minelayers and destroyers that just popped out through the force field's gate. Tell him I'm briefing the pilots personally and will send you along as my observer. He won't like it, but I doubt that he'll interfere."

"Got it."

"Remain on the flight deck, Myra. Move around and spot where each guard is stationed. When you see us coming, start to take them down. Pinpoint their positions to us as we come in so we can clean them all out fast. Confusion in the ranks works to our advantage."

Turning to Adari, he asked, "Did you put it together?"

"Yes."

"Come with me back to the bridge. I'll brief you on the way."

His look took them all in.

"Gather round — close."

Speaking rapidly, not wasting words, Brad shared information that Ram passed to him before his departure.

"A UIPS battle fleet should be loading about now into an expanded spunnel gateway off Luna. They'll be here shortly. If Drummer doesn't neutralize the INOR fleet, the job will be taken on by the UIPS. But they'll need time to re-group as they enter this arena. Our job is to keep the INOR fleet off balance until ours is ready.

"Everyone is to be suited-up and checked out for extended combat. Except for Myra, spread along the corridor as close to the Flight Deck hatch as you can without drawing attention. Keep a low profile and wait for my signal. I expect Drummer will be with me and we'll all go in together. Go now."

##

Drummer's voice was heard throughout the combined fleet. His tone was grave.

"This is Admiral Drummer. My words are, first, for Commanders of this combined fleet. Beyond that, I speak to all ships' crews and troops who make up this task force, and for all men and women within reach of my voice, whatever your nationality or whomever your leader.

"We are confronted with a dilemma. The mission assigned to this fleet is to capture the Slingshot Terminals. Slingshot and all that it represents will then become hostage to the negotiations now taking place between INOR and the United Inner Planetary System.

"If denying the UIPS access to their Terminals for a brief period was the real objective, I would have no qualms in moving forward. But the orders given to me by President Narval go much further, and I must share