M'tak Ka'fek (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (29 page)

“You're going to throw them in jail, Ranger Hopkins?” Lt. Duffy asked, voice a bit skeptical.

“Yup. I'm a peace officer. It's my duty to uphold the rule of law. The alleged outlaws will be charged and tried in a court of law. Then we'll hang 'em.”

“We managed to capture a couple alive as well,” the General said. “Be happy to let the civilian authorities take them off our hands.”

Sid nodded. “Maybe the airport folks can loan me some transport, I need to go stop those good people before they string up the rest of their prisoners.”

“I'll go you one better, Ranger,” Bill Ray offered, pausing to speak into his comm pip. “Chief, have one of the men break out a hover sled and take Ranger Hopkins where he needs to go.”

“I appreciate that, Commander.”

“I figure having one of my crew along in a suit of armor might help convince the good people of Brady to turn their prisoners over to you.”

“Couldn't hurt.” Sid smiled, touched the brim of his hat in a two fingered salute and headed off for the shuttle to collect his ride.

The three officers watched the Ranger as he walked away. “He's a good man,” said Crotchet. “He helps remind the rest of us that we are a nation of laws. Otherwise things could spin into chaos.”

“The struggle of all against all, as Hobbs put it,” added Billy Ray, with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Goes back to Locke and Rousseau and the idea of a social contract. Citizens cede their right of individual action to the government, and in turn the government protects its citizens and ensures uniform treatment under law.”

“I've been in the Army all my life. I've seen countries plunged into banditry and tribal war. Martial law is only a temporary fix, and not a very good one at that. I tell you, Commander, I figure it's worth being a soldier so my family can live in a civil society. I just pray we can preserve some of the good ideas the founding fathers had, here in this new Texas of ours.”

“Amen, General.” For the first time since going to war against the forces of the Dark Lords, Billy Ray gave thought to where all of this might lead.
Maybe, just maybe, we need a few men like Ranger Hopkins on Farside and Mars.
 

Chapter 17

Airport Hotel, Fredericksburg

The General and most of his men stayed in Brady to help Ranger Hopkins reestablish domestic tranquility. A judge was sent for from the next town over and everyone expected that justice would be swift. The shuttle returned to the Moon for another load of reactors, affording Billy Ray no time to mend fences with Beth. By the time the last two power generators were in place, TK and Beth had departed for Farside themselves. A major front was blowing in and Billy Ray found himself drinking in the Officer's Club bar at the hotel when Ranger Hopkins returned.

“Want some company, Commander?” the lawman asked, walking up to the bar where Billy Ray stood, one foot on the brass bar rail.

“Suit yer self, Ranger. Seems all the dignitaries and politicians have left for home.”

“That include your girlfriend, the lieutenant?”

Billy Ray took a sip from his beer and took a second to savor the amber liquid before answering. “Yup. She and TK were gone when I got back from the base with the last of the reactors.”

“She still pissed off?”

“Yup.”

“She'll get over it.” The bartender brought Sid a whiskey neat, without being asked. “How long you two been together.”

“About six months, though together ain't really the right word. She commands the corvette squadron—small interceptors—and I captain a frigate. We're hardly ever in port at the same time.”
Why am I telling him this?
Billy Ray thought.
Do I really need a sympathetic shoulder to cry on?
 

“I'm a pretty fair judge of character, sort of comes with the job. You two seem like a good match.”

“You ever been with a warrior woman, Sid?” Billy Ray asked. This was the first time he had called the Ranger by his given name.

“Went with a biker chick once.” 

“Ain't the same thing.”

The two men sampled their drinks and stared in amicable silence at the display of bottles on the mirrored wall behind bar.

“So let me get this straight, you're both commanding officers, her of a squadron of interceptors and you of a warship?” 

“Yeah, I guess we've both gotten used to being in-charge.”

“But you two still managed to get together.”

“Yeah, during the few moments we're both in port.”

“At least you don't have to explain yer job to her.” 

“Nope. That is a plus.”

Again drinks were sipped contemplatively.

“Best stay together. Who else would put up with you?”

“You got a point there, pardner,” Billy Ray replied with a wry smile.
I guess it is a good thing, having someone to tell your troubles to.
After a moment's reflection, he changed the subject.

“I've been thinkin', Farside and the Mars Colony are really just military outposts right now. But eventually, there are gonna be a lot of civilians in both places. Hell, the science types think they can terraform Mars using knowledge they've pulled out of the artifact. It'll never be Earth, but people will be able to walk around without spacesuits one day.”

“That would be something,” Sid agreed, glad to see Billy Ray was no longer moping over relationship problems.

“Just thinkin', when that day comes we will probably need some fellers like you. You know, lawmen, keepers of the peace.”

“I got plenty to keep me busy right here in Texas,” the Ranger replied.

“Not sayin' anytime soon. Just something to keep in the back of your head.”

“I'll do that, Billy Ray.” Sid drained his glass. “You need another beer?”

Billy Ray turned around and leaned back on the bar, watching the snow fall outside. The meteorologists on Farside said it would probably snow for the next 24 hours.

“That sounds like a good idea, Sid. Can't fly in this weather, may as well drink.”

Housing Block #12, Farside Base

The core of Farside's nascent anarchist movement was meeting in a member's apartment. They made it a point to never meet in the same location twice, in case they were being watched. Loud music was playing while the conspirators huddled with their heads together, speaking in lowered voices. They did not call each other by name. This was in case their rooms were bugged their leader, Todor, explained.

They were right to assume that the public areas of the base were kept under surveillance, though more for public safety than to thwart terrorist plots. Thousands of video cameras fed a cluster of computers running sophisticated pattern recognition software, intended to detect any unusual activity which might indicate an accident or life threatening situation. Private residences, however, were not monitored by the computer network or by human security personnel.

“Welcome, brothers and sisters. Have you brought the items you were assigned?” The last time they met, Todor tasked each of the inner circle—those he deemed most trustworthy—to acquire material that was not readily available on the Moon base. Among them were cotton rags, glass containers and flammable liquids.

Given that fire in an enclosed environment was rightly considered a great threat, most of the materials used to construct the base were not combustible. Neither were there ready supplies of oil or gasoline, since there were no automobiles or other equipment with internal combustion engines. Even scented oil for lamps and lighter-fluid were proscribed.

Pulling a couple of liter sized plastic bottles from his backpack, a man named Ben replied with a look of grim satisfaction. “I got these from the cleaning supplies. They sent me alone to clean some spilled paint. The supervisor though he was punishing me for goofing off, but it gave me a chance to swipe these.”

“Outstanding! Now all we need are some containers to put the liquid in.”

“Yeah. I managed to lift these wine bottles from the trash at the upper deck dining area,” Sylvia replied. Normally the bottles were sent for disposal, to be turned into rounded gravel and then dumped into the aquaculture tanks. No glass containers were manufactured on the base, all consumables coming in safer, plastic bottles.

“That is fantastic, combined with some old shirts we now have the makings of a half dozen Molotov cocktails. The pigs will be in for quite a surprise when we show them that the people are not unarmed, despite their best efforts to keep us that way.”

“Yes,” Sylvia spat, “only the fat cats get to drink real Earth wine from real bottles in the fancy restaurants, while we suck crap out of plastic squeeze bottles.” It was not entirely clear whether Sylvia's revolutionary fervor was due to Marxist zeal or hatred of mediocre wine. To Todor it did not matter, he had what he desired most, a way to make a shocking impression on the elites who ruled Farside.

“All right, comrades, spread the word. A week from today we gather in the main atrium at 11:00, just before the 1% take their lunch in the fancy eateries around the park. In a week, we will Occupy Moon Base!”

Bridge, M'tak Ka'fek

Three transits, forty light-years and nearly two months after leaving the Trader's station, the M'tak Ka'fek emerged from alter-space's lesser dimensions and returned to normal 3-space. The crew were now well practiced at the drill for arriving in an unknown star system, and each bent to their assigned tasks.

“This system contains a lot of dust and gas,” JT observed from the navigation station. “It looks like there is a single appreciable planet, a gas giant about the size of Jupiter at 2.4 AU. Looks like it has rings and a couple of sizable moons. The star itself looks like an isolated white dwarf.”

“A white dwarf?” the Captain asked.

“Yes, Captain,” answered Mizuki, happy for an opportunity to ply her skills as an astrophysicist. “A star made up of electron degenerate matter, there is nothing denser in the Universe except neutron stars and black holes. The average density of matter in a white dwarf is roughly a ton per cubic centimeter. A white dwarf can contain a mass comparable to the Sun's in a volume a millionth its size. This one has a mass of 0.8 Sols but its diameter is only 0.009 of the Sun's, about the same as Earth.”

“A lot of the system's gas and dust is infalling on the star,” JT added, checking more readouts at the navigation station. “I'm registering a lot of gamma ray bursts and high-speed particles.”

“Is it in danger of an explosion like the one that chased us out of the Sirius system?”

“No, Sir. This system seems to be in a state of equilibrium. Junk continually gets sucked into the star, resulting in a lot of gamma ray and particle creation, but no build up for a big bang like Sirius. Still no sign of a station like in the Trader's system.”

“Keep scanning, it has to be out there somewhere,” Jack ordered.
Or the furry little twerps lied to us for some reason.
 

“My God!” exclaimed JT. “The ring around that gas giant isn't made of debris, it's solid.”

“It's the space station,” said Bobby, awestruck.

 At her console next to the helm, Mizuki ran some quick measurements. “The ribbon must be 100 kilometers wide, and 300,000 km in diameter. Its inner surface area would be over a hundred million square kilometers, that's two thirds the land area of Earth.”

“And I thought the last station was big,” said Sandy, staring open mouthed at the planet encircling construct in front of them.

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!” recited the Captain, rising to stand in front of the commander's chair.

The bridge fell silent, as the crewmembers attempted to wrap their minds around the enormity of the station before them. Ever practical, as polar bears are, Lt. Bear broke the silence.

“So, where do you think they keep the antimatter on that thing?”

Part Three

War Is The Remedy That Our Enemies Have Chosen

Chapter 1
8

Bridge, M'tak Ka'fek

Once the initial shock of the space station's size faded, Captain and crew turned to analyzing the situation they were facing. It was obvious that they could not just pick a place to board and wander about looking for the antimatter they sought. Regardless, the first order of business was to find out what conditions were like on board the massive station. 

“Doppler radar shows the ring is spinning with a velocity of just over 12km/sec at the rim. That yields a centripetal acceleration of right about a tenth of a G,” JT reported. “It has a rotational period of 21 and a third hours.”

“Both a reasonable day-night cycle and amount of simulated gravity. The daylight is going to be pretty feeble though. Are we sure that there is warm life on that thing, and not a horde of Dark Lord minions?”

“The inner surface appears to be some form of giant greenhouse. Spectral analysis indicates a nitrox atmosphere and IR scans report that temperatures are around 16ºC. A bit cool but quite comfortable, Captain.” 

“Speak for yourself, primate,” Bear harrumphed. “Why are all these places either stinking hot or without an atmosphere at all?”

“Evidently most of the galaxy's warm life lacks your discriminating taste in environmental conditions, my ursine friend,” Jack chuckled.

“The presence of a significant amount of free oxygen is a strong indication that dark life is not present,” M'tak's AI stated. “To most of their species oxygen is poisonous.” 

“Well that's a positive. I wonder what it's made of? The rim must be under a tremendous amount of strain.”

“Given the rotational speed, I would guess it is wrapped in something like sheets of graphene or other mono-molecular material, Captain.”

“The bigger question is how it stays in position,” added Mizuki. “A ring structure or a sphere would be gravitationally unstable with respect to the central planet.”