Catherine Kimbridge Chronicles 2: Redemption (13 page)

The world
WhimPy-23 saw below was amazing. Most worlds existed in some type of equilibrium. Energy flowed in very predictable patterns as it sought in vain to reach equilibrium. What WhimPy saw was chaos. Normally the only energy of significance added to a planet's weather pattern was solar radiation.

Not so with Kepler-47b. Tectonic stress from the impact of four
very large moons caused numerous volcanos and magma flows which superheated select regions of the atmosphere. The wide differential in surface temperatures caused massive atmospheric pressure differentials; differentials that sought equilibrium in the form of extremely energetic winds.  

Recent activities on the planet, namely a massive thermonuclear explosion from the demise of the
GCP Heidman,
further exacerbated the erratic weather patterns. A superstorm was beginning to form, and according to the modeling algorithms WhimPy-23 applied to data he scanned from the planet's surface, the storm would continue to grow for another two weeks until it encompassed 73 percent of the planet. With wind speeds in excess of 800 kilometers an hour, very little would remain safe on the planet's surface.

***

The interior faceplate of Mike's encounter suit kept fogging over with condensation as the blowers struggled to keep up with his sweating. The wreckage near his escape pod was apparently a fragment of one of the floating cities that had been destroyed when these people had been attacked.  There was nothing much useful in the pieces he could find but the workmanship was stunning. With each piece of wreckage he pulled off the pile he saw ever greater wonders.

Engraved in the metal were intricate drawings and geometric patterns that nested within one another. Whatever else the Buggers were
, they were artists. He spent the better part of four hours sorting through the debris. 

It was only after he had shifted the last piece and was looking around that he noticed that the flat surface he was standing on was indeed a trench
, the sides of which were almost out of sight in the distance. In fact, now that he looked, there were parallel grooves in the surface for quite a distance.  His encounter suit was good for another ten hours or so before he would need to head back to the escape pod for a recharge. He decided to take a couple of hours to head in the general direction of the grooves. Perhaps there would be additional debris that might prove useful. He wanted to check while he could. The wind was picking up and he was sure visibility might become an issue if he waited to explore until tomorrow.

***

Cat smiled to herself. As predicted the sudden appearance of a piece of alien technology the size of a Heshe weapon
s
’ platform had quite an impact on the Buggers. The fact that WhimPy was a purely defensive platform could not have been known to the local indigenous population; but in fairness, Cat thought, she doubted the knowledge would have made a difference.

As soon as
WhimPy popped into orbit around Kepler-47b the entire defense ring broke orbit and rushed the platform. WhimPy was like no ship they had ever encountered. It represented the current state-of-the-art in Heshe technology, having been recently upgraded by the last Heshe in this part of the galaxy.

As each of the attacking pods would approach the platform, the platform would fold space in such a way so as to reverse the momentum of the attacking craft. In essence, they just bounced off without ever being able to attach. W
himPy very carefully adjusted the bounce vectors to ensure no two craft ever struck one another.

After a few minutes
the attacks stopped. The Admiral reported that movement was seen in the solar defensive ring. Large groups of ships sheared off from the main ring and headed on an intercept course for Kepler-47b.

***

"Everything all set?" Cat asked.

Rudy McQuin, the new
ly promoted captain of the
Heidman-2
checked his board and nodded an affirmative from his command chair. He was monitoring the structural integrity field which was holding the fragile ship together.

The Commodore looked at Ensign Sanders who was at the engineering station
, as well as Chief Wroblewski who was filling in at sensors. Both men gave her a thum
b’
s up. Finally she glanced at Sassi, the Ashkelon who was manning the communications station. Having no thumbs he was initially confused as to how to respond before he finally settled on a verbal response. "My board is green, Commodore."

"I have an all go from the rest of the ship
," Rudy added.

"Very good
," Cat said. "Let's get the hell out of here and leave these people alone."

"Amen
," Rebecca Kirkland muttered softly from her seat at the environmental station. Cat smiled. Her enhanced hearing was the only reason she heard the comment.

"Sassi, signal all ships. Launch on my go."

"Aye, Ma'am," the large feathered moth acknowledged.

Cat opened her direct link to the
WhimPy orbiting above. "23, are you ready?"

"Why certainly
, Catherine. This should be fun. I have a favor to ask though."

"Go ahead
," Cat answered.

"Once I deploy the jump gate and see your party out the door I'd like to cloak and keep an eye on this race for a time."

"We already have cloaked probes in orbit for that," Cat observed.

"True, but I fancied myself doing a little bit of gardening. This world has been ravaged. The green house effects caused by the recent activity will cause the atmospheric envelop
e on 47b to expand 6.2 percent over the next century or so. The increased drag on the two remaining moons will cause their orbits to decay. Once that happens there will be no home world for these people."

"What are you proposing?"

"Sometimes the best defense is a strong friend. I believe it should be possible to tweak the weather patterns on 47b to settle the dust, as it were, and reduce the greenhouse effect."

Cat opened a link to Admiral Faragon on the
Yorktown
. "Sir, 23 has detected a problem in the Kepler system. Recent activity has set in motion a series of events that will doom these people unless we take action. WhimPy would like permission to stay behind while cloaked and effect meteorological repairs on 47b."

The
Admiral did not even pause before responding. "By all means. If we have the ability to help we must. Keeping cloaked is a high priority though. No sense stirring up the proverbial hornet's nest."

"Agreed
, Sir."

"Take all appropriate action and get back with me. Faragon out
."

"23, were you monitoring?"

"Of course."

"Do what you need to but
send the
Yorktown
all pertinent data when you can."

"Already done. Deploying the jump gate now. You have six minutes."

The jump gate was a new innovation. A series of modified probes created a hyperfield portal that a non-jumpdrive enabled craft could travel through. In this case, the ships in question had limited jump capability and the gate would be used to open a portal closer to a strong gravity well then would otherwise be possible.

"Attention all ships...
we are a go. Power up and make for jump point alpha at best possible speed. If for any reason you fall behind or cannot make it, WhimPy-23 is your backup target.''

Rudy McQuin leaned forward in his command chair. "You heard the Commodore
, Mr. Sanders. Best possible speed."

"Aye
, Captain," the ensign acknowledged.

***

Forward scouts monitoring the alien incursion reported five ships had exited the atmosphere of the nest host and vanished through what the super-mind now knew to be a hyperfold in space-time. The massive ship which defended their exit disappeared soon thereafter.

The massive ship had been
cause for quite a bit of concern. Its behavior, while illogical, had been strangely predictable. The massive intellect that was the super-mind analyzed the pattern of behavior and formulated a means of attacking using that predictability. Should the ship reappear the plan would be put in motion.

***

     Admiral Bud Faragon stood by the door to the main hangar on the
GCP Yorktown
. The
Dante
and
Honey Dipper
were positioning themselves to enter the aft loading bay but the
Heidman-2
, now a fraction of the size of its former self, was still too large to fit any but the largest of the
Yorktown's
bays.

As the door swished open the Admiral could not help but beam a smile at the young woman who was even now saluting him.

"Permission to come onboard, Sir!" Cat said sharply.

"It's your boat Commodore. I've just been keeping your seat warm."

"Nice to know, Sir. I must say,despite the dings and dents while I was gone she looks to be in good shape. If you will allow me a moment I would like to stop by Lieutenant Andrew's duty station. It was her fian
cé
that was killed on the planet."

The Admiral nodded. He had been expecting just such a request.

***

Lieutenant Andrews was a willowy blond who was a shift manager in the forward mess hall. A ship the size of the
Yorktown
had three such mess halls but the forward was by far the largest.

When Cat entered the facility there was an immediate hush until she sai
d‘
As you wer
e
’ and had the ship's AI Cal echo it to everyone in the mess hall. The lieutenant was in her office working through some inventory reports. The recent damage to the ship had adversely impacted ships stores. Most of the hydroponics had been flash frozen by the cold of space. New supplies had been ferried in by shuttle but there was still the matter of reconciling the deliveries against the actual stores.

Lieutenant Andrews came to attention the moment Cat entered the small space.

"For goodness sake, sit Cindy," Cat said. She and the lieutenant had known each other since Rebecca Kirkland had requested her as a sous chef for the captain's mess. The young woman was as skilled with a skillet as she was with a spreadsheet. Cooks and captains shared a special relationship on starships and despite Cat's subsequent promotion to commodore she was still the captain of this ship and she cherished the few relationships that could extend beyond rank. That was part of what made the current conversation so difficult.

"I suppose you know why I'm here," Cat said softly as she sat down next to the other woman.  The lieutenant had a brave face on but the moisture in her eyes betrayed the emotions that ran just below the surface. 

"Matty," was the one word answer.

Cat reached a hand to cover Cindy's. She had learned there were never any words that could be offered that were as effective as a simple human touch.

"I wish I could tell you his death had meaning, but it was a stupid accident. He was exploring outside the shuttle crash site and slipped down a ravine. The pressure was too great for his encounter suit. The atmosphere was highly corrosive. In all likelihood he died within a fraction of a second of falling."

"Why would God take a man like Matty, Ma'am? He... we... had so much to live for."

Cat looked at the young woman for a moment before answering in the only way she could. "There are some questions for which there will never be answers. Matty died serving his ship and trying to secure our safety. He was under orders to stay in sight of the shuttle but visibility was very limited; he wandered just a few feet too far. He was a good man and a good officer."

Cindy wiped a loose tear before answering. "Ma'am, I know you didn't need to come down here. We weren't even married yet. I appreciate it."

"I knew you loved him and he loved you. Pain is often one of the last testimonies we have of the love we feel for others. I would just encourage you not to make it the last feeling. I think we both know Matty wouldn't have wanted that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Cat started to stand up.

"Ma'am?"

Cat paused for her to continue.

"Matty didn't have any family left at home. He was a survivor from the Mars colony. Would it be permitted for me to receive his memorial flag?"