To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) (7 page)

Chapter Seven

If the leader is filled with high ambition and
if he pursues his aims with audacity and strength of will, he will reach them
in spite of all obstacles.   Karl Von Clausewitz

Pandora had worked as a
spacer for over a decade before she jumped through the wormhole to the future
that was now.  She had done construction work, crewed a freighter, and finally
worked as a comet prospector in the Kuiper Belt.  So as soon as the pressure
started to drop she knew what to do, the most unintuitive act a human can do
while there is no air in the room.  Breath out.  She opened her mouth and let
the vacuum suck the air through her throat.  Her lungs and her throat ached
from the friction of gas moving too fast.  And then her lungs were empty.

Pandi knew that the
nanobubbles in her blood stream would be supplying her with enough air, and the
nanites would work hard to scrub the CO2 from her body.  But she still needed
to work fast if the membranes of her lungs weren’t to sustain major damage. 
That damage could be repaired in time, but she needed to function now.

The lights flickered
again, and the deck of the ship vibrated under her feet.  She thought it a
particle beam, which gave more of a hammering vibration than a laser, which was
more of a straight push.  The ship rocked as it continued to evade, pushing
slightly past the capabilities of the engine’s compensators.  She grabbed for a
hand hold on the wall and then to another, while emergency lights came up and
stayed steady.  She reached the section of wall she needed and pushed her thumb
to the panel.

The wall receded and an
armored suit came into view in the cubby revealed.  Pandi twisted around and
fell back, her legs and arms fitting into the limbs of the suit.  In her
younger years she had remembered watching a movie about a man who had built a
suit of super armor that basically fitted itself to his body.  This was the
realization of that dream, a suit of battle armor that unfolded, then folded
over her limbs and body.  The seams disappeared as soon as it was in place, the
built in nanosystems erasing any opening and making it one seamless piece of
metal.  A helmet lowered onto her head and locked in place, while gloves moved
into position and sealed onto the arms of the suit.  Sweet cool air flooded the
armored suit, and the woman took great breaths through lungs that still hurt.

Should have had the
damned thing on in the first place
, she thought, walking out of the cubby in the
fitted armor that moved with her motions. 
Watcher will give me hell about
that when I get back to the
Donut. 
Assuming I get back
.

Pandora tried to call
up the link to Watcher as power came back to the bridge systems.  But there was
nothing there.

“Computer,” she said,
frowning as a mental link wouldn’t come up.  “Computer.  What is our status?”

Receiving no answer she
walked over to the control panel and breathed a sigh of relief that there were
still functioning systems onboard.  She called up a holo of damage control, and
almost screamed when she saw all of the flashing red lights on the schematic of
the ship.  Touching a gloved finger to the schematic, she activated a vid of
the wormhole gate room, and swore as she looked at the ruin of what was once a
portal back to home.  The framework that held the negative matter was gone,
with the exception of a couple of twisted pieces.  And there were holes in the
hull where powerful lasers had eaten through.

“Now what the hell am I
going to do?” she asked herself, and about jumped out of her skin when she
received an answer. 

“What are your orders,
Mistress?” said the voice of the ship’s computer.

“Why didn’t you answer
before?”

“I was offline
momentarily,” said the ship’s avatar.  “But I was able to reboot and activate
the comp in your suit, now that you have decided to wear it.”

“Don’t be a wiseass,”
she told the machine with a feeling of embarrassment. 
The damned machine is
right, much as I hate to admit. 
“What is our status?”

“We are in bad shape,”
said the computer, its voice no longer completely calm.

It’s an avatar after
all
,
thought the organic member of the team. 
Programmed to act like a real
person
. 
But the old station comp also acted like a real person, up to
the point where it killed to stay aware
.  “Define bad shape.”

“There is only one
functioning engine,” said the computer, sounding like a man ticking off points
on its digital fingers.  “All weapon systems are off line, though I should have
the forward laser partially functional within the next twenty minutes.  All
wormhole links are down.”

“That sounds bad, but
at least we are alive and out of reach of those fanatics for the moment,” said
Pandi, pushing the nagging worry to the back of her mind.

“And the antimatter
storage unit is going to lose containment within one hour and forty-eight
minutes.”

“What?” shouted
Pandora, a chill running up her spine as her guts roiled.  “How the hell did
that happen?  What can we do about it?”

“The power connections
to the containment unit were severed by a PB.  The same blast also took ninety
percent of the crystal matrix batteries with it.”

“Can we jettison the
unit?”

“Negative,” said the
computer.  “Both outer and inner hatches are jammed and welded shut.  And the
door to the MAM compartment is also closed off from melting and structural
sagging.”

“Can you get a robot in
the compartment to do something?” asked Pandora, her own mind now on overdrive,
even as she realized the comp would have thought of everything that she would.

“All of the repair bots
in the compartment have been knocked out of service,” said the computer.

“How long to get one to
cut its way in through the hull?” she asked, her heart sinking as she thought
of the thick hull metal that could withstand all but the most powerful of
lasers and particle beams, like the ones that had savaged her ship.

“Longer than we have.”

“Crap,” screamed
Pandora Latham, smacking the hard hand of her suit onto the panel.  She walked
around for a moment, trying to come up with something.  “What about the
nanites?  Can’t they reconstruct the power feeds?”

“All nanites within the
MAM compartment have been destroyed,” said the computer.

That was the problem
with nanoscale robots.  There was no way to shield them, and any kind of strong
electromagnetic pulse could fry their systems.  “And I’m guessing that the
backup nanites were destroyed as well.”

“Yes,” said the
computer, a bit of exasperation creeping into its generated voice.  “All four
of the shielded backup chambers were destroyed.  And any attempt to inject more
nanites into the chamber will meet with failure.  There is just not sufficient
time to build up to adequate levels within the chamber.  Besides which, the
radiation levels in the MAM chamber are too high for nanites to function in.”

And that was the other
problem with the ubiquitous tech.  It seemed capable of doing anything and
everything.  It was so easy to depend on, that one sometimes forgot its limitations.

I can always abandon
ship, and hope that someone friendly comes along before I run out of air.  Of
course it’s more likely that someone unfriendly will come along, and then I
will wish my air was gone.

“How long to get to
that planet?” she asked, turning back toward the control board.

“At current velocity
and orientation, twenty-six minutes and five seconds,” answered the comp.

“And what would be our
velocity when we reach the atmosphere?”

“Point two one c,”
answered the computer.

“So we burn up in the
atmosphere?”

“That is the likely
outcome,” answered the computer.  “I would not recommend that course of
action.”

“No shit,” said Pandi,
grimacing.  “And how long to get there with sufficient decel to make a
planetfall?”

“One hour and
forty-three minutes.”

“Then set that course
and get us going,” said Pandi, a smile creasing her face, again feeling hope. 
“Lickity split.”

“The Nation of Humanity
Ships will be in proximity to the planet when we arrive.”

“We’ll deal with that
when we need to,” said Pandi, looking at the hatch that led from the bridge to
the rest of the ship.  “Just get us moving, and I’m going to look into some
preparation.”

*     *     *

Fleet Admiral Nagara
Krishnamurta cursed again under his breath as he looked up at the bright sun and
wiped the sweat from his brow.  He had only been on the ground for about an
hour and already his uniform was soaked.  The men around him in battle armor
seemed to be doing better.  Their suits had environmental controls, but they
would not have power forever, especially since they had a limited supply of
power cells.

Why the hell didn’t I
get into my armor?
thought the Admiral as he scanned the landing field with the glasses he had
commandeered from the shuttle.  But things had happened too fast, and he had
never taken the time to get into the armor that was both spacesuit and battle
harness. 
More fool I
, he thought, cursing again.  They had seemed safe
in orbit around their base planet, and then all hell had broken.

The flash of an
explosion over the field pulled his attention back to the here and now. 
Seconds later the crack of that blast reached his ears.  Men and women were
fighting and dying on that field.  The Suryan Marine contingent on the base was
contesting the landing forces of the Nation of Humanity.  Already the Nation
had landed several hundred troops in a half dozen shuttles.  One shuttle sat on
the edge of the field as a burned out hulk.  A couple of Suryan shuttles also
sat on the field, empty.  Smoke was rising from the jungle a couple of
kilometers away, where his flag officer’s shuttle had gone down to explode on
contact.  And with it, his flag officer, Lieutenant Commander Klish. 
What
do I tell the boy’s family
, he thought, then laughed. 
Why do I think
I’ll ever get the chance to tell them anything?

“The Marines are about
to retreat from the field entirely,” said Lt. Commander Dasha Mandrake, once
Tactical Officer of
Aneus,
now
the Admiral’s Executive Officer by
default, crouching next to him in full battle armor.  “The Major says there is
no way they can hold.”

A pair of ground attack
shuttles came roaring over the field at that moment, dropping bombs and firing
rockets.  Explosions rippled along the field, the concussive blast reaching
into the surrounding jungle as balls of fire rose into the air.  Behind them
came another pair of assault shuttles, slowing rapidly and dropping to the
field on fans.  As soon as their landing pads touched ground men in battle rig
were pouring from the vehicles.  A few were shot down as they looked for cover,
but the great majority of the fifty newcomers made it to protection.

Something streaked
through the sky, and a bright flash twenty kilometers away was followed by a
ground shaking rumble. 
Hitting us with kinetic rounds
, thought the
Admiral, shaking his head. 
Whenever they can find a concentration of us.
 
Which meant he had to either get under some cover that would spoof their
sensors, like this very thick jungle they were in, or maintain close contact,
like they were on the landing field.  And close contact was just another kind
of death.  They were outnumbered and outgunned, and it was only a matter of
time. 
Then we’ll take the time
, thought the Admiral, who had boxed at
the academy and had no quit in him.

A pattern of mortars
rippled across the advancing enemy.  Counter battery took the Suryan mortars
under fire, followed by the roar of a kinetic round striking from space.

“Tell them to get those
indirect fire weapons back,” he yelled at Mandrake.  He looked up at the sky
again, wondering when they would be picked up by those eyes in the sky.  “And
get yourself under cover,” he said, looking back at the woman.  “No telling how
long before they pick up your electronics out here in the open.”

“Then you need to get
under cover as well, sir,” said the officer, motioning toward the path down
from the hilltop back into the jungle.  “You really can’t do much out here.”

Krishnamurta nodded his
head, then took another quick look through the glasses.  Some of the structures
at the edge of the base were going up in explosions, the last cover for his
marines before they were forced into the jungle.  Then it would come down to
guerilla warfare. 
So be it
, thought the pugnacious Admiral, putting the
glasses away and following his officer into the shadows under the enormous
trees.  His ancestors had won a planet, taking it away from despotic rulers. 
And he could bleed his enemy, if nothing else, and make him regret coming down
to the surface to challenge the Suryan forces.

*     *     *