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READ A SAMPLE: 1.
Arrival.
“Here we go, again,” I
emphasised and followed that with a string of curses.
It was a meteor shower and it
looked like there were some big ones. I knew well enough that there was a lot of
debris around the perimeter of the Merkal system and it wasn’t the first time
I’d had to decouple a tug and go blast them but, after coming all the way from
Proxanthus-6 without incident, it was a pain in the rear to have to go to all
this trouble so close to home.
I checked my readout again.
Some were 30 metres wide so I had no choice, my deflector panels couldn’t handle
anything that big.
For those of you unfamiliar
with a deep-space ore freighter, it’s a huge container section designed to hold
200,000 to 250,000 tonnes of partially processed metal ore; nothing more than a
giant storage bin in reality. It’s a toughened titanium steel double hull with
forward-facing angled deflector panels at strategic points along the sides. The
panels can bounce off meteors up to 5 metres wide and, if they sometimes take a
beating, they are replaceable. A meteor 30 metres wide would rip the panels off
and probably smash a hole in the hull causing me to lose ore or worse, knock the
container seriously off course.
The “tug”, which isn’t much more
than living and storage space for a 2/3 man crew perched atop a big fusion
drive, attaches to the lower front of the container so the engine exhaust is
underneath where the container has extra heat shielding.
I got my space-suit and put
it on and went to the control seat with my helmet in my hand and began punching
buttons. I got the tug separated OK and used manoeuvring thrusters to get clear
of the container section before I engaged the fusion drive.
I checked my scanners again.
At least the meteors were not coming towards me but were crossing my path, so
the closing speed was just my speed which gave me more time. I started to
pinpoint all the meteors more than 10 metres wide then eliminated from my
targeting computer those that would have safely crossed my path before the
container’s momentum brought it along. That left eight: five of them, fairly
close together, were just about the 10-metre-across size and three more were
over 30 metres wide. The small ones I could take out with laser cannon fire, but
I’d have to use missiles for the 3 bigger ones.
I powered up the laser and
armed 4 missiles, one spare just for emergencies. I’d take out the big ones,
swing around and come up and under the 5 smaller ones and blast them.
One of the big ones was closest; I
fed the meteor’s coordinates into the missile’s microprocessor, engaged its
solid fuel rocket and let it go. I targeted the other two big ones next, sent
off two more missiles and then I put the tug on manual control and went after
the other five ... might as well enjoy myself a little. I closed in on them and
angled my deflectors in case the tug got hit by some small stuff on the way in
and then I was curving up and under, so the debris would go up out of the path
of my container. I lined the first one up manually and fired and even as I saw
it fragment I was altering course to take out the second. I blasted the other
three then checked on the missiles and realised that
one of them had failed to detonate which meant I still had one of the big
meteors to take care off.
I re-engaged the targeting
computer, reacquired the meteor and closed in on it. It was a big bastard; more
than 50 metres wide and about 300 long, I wouldn’t even dent it with the laser.
I armed my 4th missile.
“Where to hit,” I muttered to
myself.
The missiles had high-explosive
warheads, not nuclear, so I wasn’t going to destroy the thing, just get it out
of the way. I picked my spot, underneath and about a third of the way back from
the front of the meteor. It was a perfect strike I thought as the meteor split
into 3 biggish pieces that flew up out of the path of the approaching container,
but I went after two of the three pieces with the laser cannon and reduced them
to rubble just because I had started to enjoy myself.
My earlier annoyance now
replaced by a sense of achievement and the satisfaction of having blasted
something, I headed back to the container. I came in under it, slowing to match
speed and then brought the tug up to the clamps. I could have used the computer
for docking but I liked to keep my skills up to speed so I did it manually ...
enough momentum to dock but not so much that the container would deviate from
course. I felt good as I reconnected circuits between tug and container and
re-engaged the scanners to give me vision above and behind its huge bulk.
I checked the computer log
but nothing had been detected during my absence still, being professional, I did
a full scan in every direction just to be on the safe side.
I was now into the Merkal
system though still farther out than the planetary orbits: I’d
come out of hyperspace
yesterday and I’d been decelerating continuously since then.
“Vector four-oh-seven-nine
Ajax.”
“Confirm four-oh-seven-nine.”
“We’ll take it from here,
Brogan.”
“She’s all yours Control,” I
said switching to computer control which effectively turned the orbital docking
over to them.
I ran a hand over my face
feeling the stubble and moved to my bathroom, attached to the bedroom where I’d
slept for nine months. I took off my coverall suit and underwear, stepped into
the cleanser unit, shut the door and pressed buttons. I closed my eyes as the
warm spray filled the cubicle; I reached blindly for the sponge and began to rub
it over my body wiping the antibacterial mist over my skin and giving myself a
thorough clean. Not that there were any virulent pathogens aboard Ajax; the only
bacteria on the ship were those I hosted, willingly or otherwise.
Emerging clean and
nice-smelling, I put on some fresh clothes, pulled my boots back on and crossed
the room to a small cabinet for my shave gel. I squeezed some on to my palm and
smeared it on my face, rubbing it in to the stubble. I rinsed and dried my
hands, put the discarded clothes on a rack, put the rack in the cleanser, closed
the unit and switched it on again. I was waiting for the gel to do its thing,
which took about eight minutes, so I went to the kitchen/dining room and pressed
buttons on the drinks unit and got myself a cup of coffee.
Eight minutes were up so I
returned to the bathroom and shaved off the gel and the dissolved stubble with
it.
Back in the kitchen again, I
sipped my coffee and selected a pack from the freezer unit; chicken tikka masala
with rice and vegetables. I removed the lid, put the pack in the microwave, set
the timer and pressed the start button. I finished my cup of coffee and went to
make another and had just completed that when the beeps sounded. I salvaged my
meal, set the pack on the heatproof table next to my coffee and sat down.
The food was good enough; it
hit the spot and I was feeling pretty good as I drained my coffee and put both
food pack and coffee cup into the garbage disposal.
I returned to my control room
to see how we were doing: it was always worthwhile checking, especially early
on. There had been a couple of times when, because of some computer program
fault, an incoming tug had not been properly aligned on the flight path and had
completely missed the space dock and overshot spiralling out of control with the
pilot unable to manually override. But no such problems this time: I was
synchronized right and could now relax and prepare for docking and a chance to
get off the ship after another successful voyage, my thirteenth.
It would be good to set foot
on solid ground again. After I disembarked, went through decontamination and
passport control, I had two free nights allowed at the orbital hotel ... this
was part of the contract, two nights coming in and two going out with a tug. It
would be good to have a nice room and watch TV and catch up on all the news and
have some fresh food and a few drinks. After that I’d shuttle down to the
surface and have a break for a couple of months. I was looking forward to it.
It would be another three
hours before the docking procedure: I was still over 1,000,000 kilometres out. I
thought I’d watch a movie so I went over to my work desk and selected a
cartridge. I settled on my recliner, tilted it to a good angle, pulled the
control panel to me and pushed the cartridge home and then powered up the big
wall screen and adjusted the sound settings. It was an old movie from 200 years
ago, set in the Korean War of the 1950’s, about the pilots of old jet fighters.
The lead actor was a guy
called Mitchum and I liked the character he played and the relationship with the
woman; she was married so there was no hope of it working out and there was no
sex between them, just two kisses. But they were hot for each other and I liked
the way they felt and the civilized way they behaved even though it was doomed
from the start. I didn’t watch it all, I skipped a chapter here and there but it
filled an hour and left me feeling sad and wistful. There were very few humans
this far out and I hadn’t even seen a real woman in 2 years and it had been a
little longer than that since I’d kissed one.
If a man wanted sex there
were always the Merkal females but they had never appealed to me: they were
covered with fine, short hair and I found their skin odour strange. It wasn’t
particularly offensive, just strange and too far away from the smooth, fragrant
skin of a human female. Anyway, best not to think about it; I’d watch some TV,
have a few drinks, see some live shows, do some swimming and walking, eat some
fresh food. After 2 months or ten weeks I’d be sick of it and I’d sign up to
take another tug out to Proxanthus-6 for another ore shipment.
I didn’t mind the solo trips
and the mining company preferred single crew, those that could handle being
alone. The incidence of single crew going nuts was far lower than the incidence
of fights and murder among two or three man crew. I thought the Merkals were
just too emotionally unstable. There was some talk years ago that I didn’t like
Merkals because I shipped solo and because I didn’t mate with the females; but I
had no particular dislike of them, I just liked to fly alone. On the ground I
was happy eating Merkal food, watching their shows and going to their bars and
after a couple of years the perception of prejudice had faded and I was accepted
as just a weird human who didn’t have sex with either males or females.
I was less than an hour out
now so I started to get my last things together. I had just two bags; one
contained my better clothes, for when I was on shore leave, along with my few
‘treasures’ and it pretty well stayed closed when I was on a voyage. The second
bag contained the clothes I wore aboard ship plus the things I used to amuse
myself ... portable computer, music/movie/game cartridges and I always took a
carton packed with a dozen or so electronic books and magazines which I traded
in for a new batch each time I came back to Merkal. I took a look over at the main panels, satisfied myself I was still on target for docking and there was no need for me to come off computer control and make a course adjustment. I made another cup of coffee and shut off the kitchen equipment. The bathroom, lounge, kitchen and control were clean: I knew they would be completely fumigated and cleaned anyway when I got off, but I’m a tidy guy and I always clean up my own space. I walked all around the living quarters and checked I’d left nothing behind and then I put my two bags and my carton of books and magazines on the trolley and that was it; nothing to do till I docked in about twenty-five minutes. I finished my coffee, tossed the cup into the garbage disposal and went to the toilet for a last pee. Click on the cart below to purchase this book:
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