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Authors: Ben Hopkin,Carolyn McCray

MoonRush (28 page)

BOOK: MoonRush
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And then Dr. Weigner came within Stavros’ field of vision. The vaunted doctor tromped across the bridge, reaching out and touching a detail here, scrutinizing an instrument there. The expression plastered on his face seemed to indicate that Weigner had smelled something rotten and was searching out the source of the unpleasantness.

This Dr. Weigner was a problem.

From the moment Stavros had laid eyes on the scientist and discovered that the man would be accompanying Stavros and his team to the moon, the captain had known it would be an issue. The doctor clearly had no military background. His lack of protocol, the imprecision of his movements, even the vagueness of his gaze screamed “civilian
.
” And a civilian on a military op, especially one who seemed to believe he had authority? Stavros smelled a confrontation coming. Soon. Stavros had no intention of letting some private
-
sector brainiac run the show up there.

The doctor stopped and hovered at the communications station. He peered at the panel in front of him, reaching out and fiddling with the lever that controlled the speaker volume. It snapped off under his hand. The scientist sneered at the broken object for a moment before handing it to Stavros’ head of communications.

“Poor design. I would have integrated the lever to make it a part of the panel.”

Stavros felt every muscle in his body tense as he observed this assault on his shuttle. His head of communications stared a question at his commander, clearly seeking permission to respond. Stavros shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible. There would be a confrontation, but when Stavros wanted it. Not before.

Stavros turned his back on the doctor, facing the front vid
-
screen once more. The anticipation of this moment had soured a bit with the addition of Weigner’s dissonance, but his crew could handle it.
Stavros
could handle it. He blew out a long breath.

“Engage engines.” The captain spoke with minimal volume, but his crew responded without delay. Stavros felt the throb of energy pulse through the craft. There was no delay between command and execution with this shuttle. He could feel the power radiating
through the soles of his boots.

Stavros watched as a panicked doctor scrambled to find a seat he could strap himself into. The captain chuckled as it dawned on the man of science that no one in the bridge was in a harness. One of the many benefits of being on the team with the most toys. The
Eclipse
employed a cutting
-
edge gravitational force dampener, which allowed the crew to operate as if they were strolling around a park

even while the ship battled the relentless pull of the
E
arth’s gravitational field.

As the shuttle exited its secret hangar, the roof peeling back in four equal sections, three Tomcat
F-14’s
formed a triangle around her, offering protection to a craft that didn’t appear to need any. Stavros knew that was not the case. Until they were out of the atmosphere, the
Eclipse
was vulnerable. The ship’s shielding was not designed to protect them from missiles, but rather the
E
arth’s atmosphere on reentry. And her maneuverability while in the atmosphere was much greater than most shuttles, but still not any match for a plane designed for combat. Thus
,
the escort.

It didn’t take long for the inevitable resistance to appear. No matter how tight security was, in this day and age, secrets were close to nonexistent. Or perhaps more accurately, detection and response time had improved. For something as unusual as the launch of a state-of-the-art spacecraft, the reaction period had been reduced to the point that their enemies were on them in less than a minute. The radar flashed and buzzed as several foreign fighters entered their airspace.

The head of the Tomcat fighter squadron called out over the speakers. “We’ve got bogies…Three, make that four. No
,
five…”

The monitors, equipped with the latest “smart
screen” chips, located and magnified the fighter planes in less time than it took the crew to look up to see the threat. The jets, slim javelins poised to plunge themselves into the heart of the shuttle, covered themselves in the light-sucking black paint designed to keep them from detection as long as possible. And it might have worked, if they had been stalking prey other than this particular spacecraft.

Captain Stavros muttered into his headset. “It seems
that
word of our launch has been leaked.”

Light after light flared on the detection panel, indicating launches of anti-aircraft missiles intended for the enemy aircraft. The
Eclipse
wove her way through the gauntlet as the opposing jets maneuvered ever closer to the shuttle. The Tomcat escort played a deadly game of chicken with their foreign counterparts, spiraling around the
Eclipse
like satellites orbiting a planet.

While Stavros had full confidence in the pilots escorting the shuttle…he had handpicked them himself…their jets were outnumbered almost two
to
one. He opened the direct line to the base, ready to call up reinforcements, when an explosion rocked the shuttle, the shearing forces of the explosive intensifying and warping the G forces of the ascent. But within the bridge, all was steady.

One of the enemy jets was now nothing but debris drifting toward the ground. The ground-to-air missiles had done what they could to even up the fight. Now, with the proximity of the foreign fighters to the shuttle, it was up to the Tomcats, who were still outnumbered.

The foreign jets and the U
.
S
.
Tomcats continued to engage in a bitter dogfight as the
Eclipse
strained to break free of the atmosphere. The enemy’s one extra aircraft challeng
ed
the Tomcats. Every time they came close to honing in on one of the bogies, another would appear behind, forcing them to disengage.

“We can’t do it! There’s just too many of them!” one of the pilots growled in frustration after veering away from certain destruction.

And Stavros could see that if nothing changed, the pilot’s assessment was accurate. The
Eclipse
was fully loaded with weaponry, but unfortunately, all were designed for deep space. All but one. Only one option would be of any use while still limited by the
E
arth’s atmosphere. And that option would mean the death of their men in the escort squadron.

Arial displays of valor that would be forever unsung played out on the vid
-
screens inside the shuttle. Admiration for the pilots warred with concern for the mission in Stavros’ heart. The mission won out. The captain muted his connection with the pilots and spoke to weapons.

“Ready the Super Nova array.”

The weapons officer did a double take. “Sir?”

“Do it, Jenkins.”

“Sir.” The officer turned back to his station, readying the weapon.

Stavros readied himself for the difficult command, when one of the Tomcats, his engine damaged, rocketed toward two of the enemy craft. Seconds before impact, the pilot ejected, his jet solidly set on a course of destruction.

The resulting explosion lit the vid
-
screens from all sides of the bridge.

And with that one heroic,
almost
suicidal move, the odds were even. The two remaining Tomcats were more than enough to keep the enemy jets at bay, at least until the
Eclipse
could make her escape. Their remaining escort whipped around the shuttle, close enough to protect but far enough to keep from falling within her wake.

As clear skies began to turn dark blue with the change in altitude, chatter from the two remaining pilots broke through.

“We’re too high up! Our engines don’t have enough oxygen!”


Eclipse
, we have to disengage.”

Stavros responded with sharpness. “Negative. Continue coverage!” The
Eclipse
had to break free. That was imperative. All other considerations paled in the face of the possible failure of this mission.

As the atmosphere thinned, the jets alongside the
Eclipse
peeled away, their engines failing from lack of oxygen. One final communication from the pilots came through. “You’re on your own,
Eclipse
.”

Stavros turned to get a status report from his crew and found himself face to face with Dr. Weigner. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“No atmospheric defenses? On a military shuttle? I would consider that a serious design flaw.” The scientist turned on his heel and marched off to the other end of the bridge, more than likely searching out more mistakes.

Sadly, on this point, Captain Stavros could
do nothing but agree with him.

* * *

As the
Eclipse
moved through the upper atmosphere, Weigner found himself staring at one of the many vid-screens positioned throughout the bridge, treating the screenlike port window. The screen was nice enough

ultra-def, 3D capabilities,
and
SoundSynch equipped. But even in the mere five minutes that he had been using it, Weigner had thought of fifteen different ways in which he could have improved it. Thinner, more ergonomically pleasing, better camouflaged…there were so many creative ways to make a simple accessory like a vid-screen something that would impress and astonish. The doctor heaved a deep sigh. Myopic morons.

He glanced over his shoulder at the subdued buzz of activity on the bridge. The crew moved together like a well-oiled machine. A well-oiled machine that grated on Weigner’s every nerve with each cycle of its inefficient human pistons. One of the reasons Weigner chose to employ so few humans is that he found them highly unpleasant. He had only once come across a specimen
who
could challenge him intellectually, and that experience had proved so spectacularly displeasing that he was unwilling to repeat the exercise any time in the near future.

And if human companionship did nothing to further his intellect, what purpose did it serve? In every other way, the human component did nothing but put him behind schedule. If he weren’t required by law to hire underlings, he would have completely automated his laboratory more than a decade ago.

The navigations officer announced from his station, “Leaving the Earth’s upper atmosphere.”

Dr. Weigner turned back to the underwhelming
vid-screen
. As the
Eclipse
crossed the final barrier into deep space, the ship cruised through a slew of communication satellites in geosynchronous orbit, each one with multiple white lights, blinking indicators of their watchfulness. Their beauty was undeniable. So full of precision and simple elegance. It was a silent field of shiny metal stars, winking away in hopes of
E
arthside wishes. A place where dreams could come true.

BOOK: MoonRush
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