The Log Of The Crimson Lien

BOOK 1

Too Good To Be True

By

Wesley Clifford

  CHAPTER 5

Antimatter

Sultia banged on the cockpit door. Chuck and Quincy could hear him yelling through the door. "I DEMAND to know what is going on in there!"

Chuck looked at Quincy, "Could you..."

"Yeah," said Quincy, standing up.

He walked to the back of the cockpit, "We can't avoid going a little slower..." he started, as he waved his palm in front of the door's lock.

The door opened, and he took a step forward to continue his sentence. He never got the chance, however, as the butt of a blaster rifle contacted his face with a loud cracking noise. He grunted and collapsed, his doubly-kneed legs folding like an accordion beneath him.

"Guard him," said Sultia to Prialla as he stepped over Quincy's crumpled form.

Chuck turned in his chair. "What's going..." he started, but he never finished the sentence as the business end of the blaster touched his forehead between his eyes.

Chuck gulped, and was moderately surprised he was alive enough to do so.

"Mister Williams," said Sultia calmly. "On behalf of the sovereign government of Fallon I am commandeering this ship. Please don't make me kill you, but I will need to take over as pilot and I AM willing to do so over your dead body."

Chuck's mouth dried and his mind raced. Of all the things he expected from the passengers, hijacking was not on the list.

"I..." he said, stuttering. "I... can't do that."

Sultia flicked a switch on his rifle, and the sound of a heavy capacitor charging reverberated through the room. "And why is that?"

From the floor, Quincy opened an eye and looked from Chuck to Sultia to Prialla. When he met her gaze, over the barrel of her blaster pistol, his eyes widened in fear. He did not move.

"The ship," said Chuck, "It's keyed to me."

"What?" asked Sultia.

"Bi... Biometrically. It only responds to me."

Sultia considered this. "Fine. I will give you a new Red Line and you will follow it."

"Will it result in getting you off the ship?"

Sultia smiled, but still managed to look sad. "Yes. Yes it will."

"Then hand it over."

"Prialla, program it in."

"The Quillian's awake," she said in warning.

"My name's Quincy."

Sultia stepped to Quincy, who was still on the floor, and hit him again with the rifle.

"That should keep QUINCY quiet for a minute."

Prialla sat at the navigator console and programmed a course. She was much slower - and far less sure of herself - than Quincy would have been, but she got the course laid out. The new red line curved from the current one slightly.

"Not much of a change. Where are we going?"

"Just turn the ship," said Sultia, aiming the gun at Chuck.

In space, ships don't just turn. In atmosphere, performing a dive or a climb will cause air to flow around your wings which will change your direction of motion. In space, turning your ship does nothing to affect your speed or direction until you fire the engines. Chuck turned the ship so it was pointed at nearly a right angle to their current line of motion and began warming the rel drive.

"You know," he said as the percentage climbed to 100, "Running the engines could get us seen."

"A risk we must take," said Sultia.

Quincy groaned again as Chuck kicked on the rel drive, centering the red line on the heads up display. A bright dot - the red line's destination, slid into view.

"Wait a second," Chuck said. "That's Halfnor!"

He completed the maneuver, lining the red line up perfectly with their flight path. A light flashed on the console, warning that collision was imminent.

"Correct," said Sultia. "And now that we're aimed at the planet, stand up."

Chuck paused, trying to think of something he could do. Sultia aimed the gun again at his head. "Mister Williams, I may not be able to fly the ship but it's aimed at the planet now. Even if you die it will reach its destination without you. Now stand."

Chuck took his hands off the yoke and stood. As he did so, the engines kicked on again, dragging the red line - and Halfnor - off center.

"What's going on?" yelled Sultia, furious.

"Autopilot," said Chuck. "It won't allow a collision so it's automatically..."

"Well turn it off!" snapped Sultia, waving the rifle.

"I can't. It's a safety feature."

"What do you mean?"

"The autopilot kicks in automatically if we're on a collision course and I'm not at the controls."

Sultia bared his teeth. "Then sit back down. Aim us back."

Chuck sat down, fastened the lap belt on his command chair, and aimed the ship back at Halfnor.

"Now, cut the power."

"Do what now?" asked Chuck.

"Cut the power. Like you're getting ready for a jump point."

"The master power control only works near a jump point. It'll just come back on automatically."

Sultia yelled, "Is nothing on this ship manual?"

"The wonders of modern technology," said Chuck.

Quincy sat up and leaned against the wall. Prialla's gun never left him. "If you don't mind, could I stay conscious now?"

"Yes," she said. "But one false move and we WILL kill you. The ship needs mister Williams but it does not need you."

"Fair enough."

Chuck looked over his shoulder. "You look like crap, Quince."

"Thanks," Quincy replied, trying to sound conversational but unable to avoid the sound of pain. "I've felt better, that's for sure."

Chuck turned to Sultia, "Could he sit in his chair?"

Sultia considered this. "Yes. It'll be easier to keep an eye on you two if you're together."

Quincy said, "Actually, I'm fine here."

"No, Quince, the chair's more comfortable."

Sultia said, "And the man with the gun wants you to."

Quincy groaned, and slowly rose to his feet. His normal awkward Quillian stance was enhanced by the throbbing in his head that made him even more unsteady on his feet. He shuffled across the room, rested for a moment with his hands on the back of his chair, and then flopped into it.

To Chuck's dismay, Quincy did not fasten his lap belt. Bad habit, he thought, you should always fasten your lap belt. Especially when I have an idea.

After several minutes of silence in which Halfnor crept closer, Quincy started feeling better. The pain in his skull lessened to the point where he started thinking about his predicament, but he couldn't figure out one thing.

And with the collision less than 10 minutes away, he figured it wouldn't hurt to speak up.

"So, can I ask something?"

"Sure," said Sultia.

"Why?"

Sultia laughed. "Why?"

"Yeah. I figure you have to be Fallons. This is an attack, I guess, right?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

"Okay. Then why? We'll make quite a boom but we won't really do any significant damage. I mean, we might take out a military target or a government seat, but is that worth dying for?"

"It would be," said Sultia. "But that's not the goal."

"So what is?"

Prialla blurted. "The destruction of Halfnor!"

"Oh come on," said Quincy. "One ship is just not big enough."

Sultia remained calm. "Do you know the idea behind a planet-buster?"

"Like, an asteroid?" asked Quincy. "Sure. But planet busters are huge."

Chuck asked, "What's a planet buster? Sounds bad."

"Well," said Quincy, "You can't actually destroy a planet with an asteroid. Planets are just too big. But if you get a big enough asteroid, and hit the planet fast enough, you can do so much damage that it becomes unlivable. You essentially kill it, from a habitability standpoint. The threat of it was one of the things that ended the Tristan war."

Sultia nodded. "Yes. the allies had a 10-kilometer-wide asteroid in an orbit that would smack it into Trista itself."

Quincy continued. "Yes. At 20 kilometers per second. They got it orbiting the other way, see. Forced a treaty."

"So you know the basic idea," smiled Sultia.

Quincy squinted, doing some quick math in his head. "Yeah, but the Tristan Planet Buster would have delivered... what... about ten to the 23rd joules of energy? We won't even do a percent of that."

"1.5 times ten to the 23rd joules, actually. And we will do that... with 19 containers worth of antimatter lead."

Chuck gasped. "Antimatter lead! We've been carrying antimatter lead?"

Sultia nodded. "Yes."

"Thorough the Core!?"

"We were desperate," said Prialla.

"I'll say!" yelled Chuck.

Quincy was doing the math. "They're about half full?"

Prialla said, "Yes. The other half is containment fields."

Quincy stopped his math for a moment. "Wait, why ram the ship into the planet? Why not eject the containers?"

Sultia frowned. "That WAS the plan..."

Chuck realized before Quincy did. "But you can't get them out fast enough."

Prialla nodded. "Because they're not all in your cargo bay."

Quincy said, "And 15 won't do it. 15 will do quite a bit of damage, but Halfnor will survive. You want them dead."

Chuck added, "And you're going to kill us to do it."

Prialla pleaded, "You don't know what they're doing to us! This is the only way!"

Quincy stood, and Sultia aimed the rifle at his chest. Quincy ignored him and raised his arms. "The only way! The only way? Killing us, you, and, what, a billion other people?"

Sultia sneered. "A billion HALFNORS. And while we never planned for you to die, we ARE willing to accept the collateral damage."

"Quincy," said Chuck. "Sit down."

On the screen were two timers. One was the countdown to collision. It was at 3 minutes. The second was the countdown to the point of no return. At that point, the ship would be physically incapable of accelerating enough to avoid the collision. That was at 2 minutes, 30 seconds. For 30 seconds, they would be unable to do anything but await death. So he had to get Quincy in his seat, lap belt on, in well under 2 minutes.

But Quincy ignored him, and yelled at Sultia. "You're INSANE! This is GENOCIDE!"

"Quincy," Chuck said. "They don't need you alive. Sit down or he's going to kill you."

"So what?" Quincy yelled, "We're dead anyway!"

"Quincy!" Chuck yelled. "Sit! Down!"

Quincy paused, looked at his friend, and flopped into his seat.

"Thank you! Now put your lap belt on."

"Huh?" asked Quincy

"Lap belt. Now."

In a daze, Quincy grabbed his lap belt, brought it over his lap, and snapped it into place.

Sultia noticed this and asked, "Why the lap...?"

Chuck pushed forward on the yoke as hard as he could, putting the Crimson Lien into a dive.

Spaceships - as has been stated before - are not airplanes. At least, most of them aren't and even the ones that can function as an airplane still don't fly like airplanes when in space. In space - as has also been stated before - you don't turn by simply changing the direction you're aimed. You must thrust in that new direction to change your heading.

In particular, going into a dive does not change a ship's direction. Performing a dive simply rotates the ship so the nose goes downward, and the rear of the ship goes upward.

Chuck did a little more than a simple dive, though, and the Crimson Lien actually spun around completely and, because he didn't let up on the yoke, it continued to spin.

Spaceships can dive, climb, and yaw fairly quickly. Inertial dampening allows for multi-gee acceleration and, so long as it's on and functioning, the passengers and crew would not even be aware that the dive was taking place. Those in the rear of the ship would not be thrown to the floor, and those in the front - where the Crimson Lien's cockpit was - would not be sent flying into the ceiling.

This is why Chuck had turned off the inertial dampeners. It's why Chuck was was wearing his lap belt, and it's why Chuck had wanted Quincy to wear his. And it's why he was happy that Sultia and Prialla Thrombia were standing with their heads already very close to the cockpit's ceiling when the dive began.

The floor of the Crimson Lien's cockpit fell from beneath Sultia and Prialla's feet. The ceiling came down upon their heads, hard. Two twin cracking noises reverberated through the room, followed soon after by the sound of two bodies collapsing on the floor. The safety systems had kicked in, and the inertial dampeners were back on.

But the damage had been done.

Quincy sat in his chair. The sudden feeling of falling - and then of being pulled downward by his lap belt - vanished as quickly as it had come. He was completely unprepared for it and the sudden jolt of adrenaline caused the pain from the sore on his head - which had all but subsided - to flare. He could only ask one question, and that was: "Whaa!?"

Chuck, who knew what was going to happen, recovered a bit quicker. "I did a dive with the inertial dampeners off! Quick, get their guns before they wake up!"

He undid his lap belt and clambered out from behind the pilot's controls. The Bollians had not been knocked unconscious like he'd hoped; the safety systems were very quick. However, they were disoriented and in pain. He grabbed the blaster pistol from Prialla's hand before she could stop him.

Quincy was not quite so quick. He was just getting out of his chair as Sultia - on his knees and one hand - raised his rifle toward the Quillian. Quincy stopped, looked right into Sultia's eyes, and heard the sound of blaster fire.

His body tensed, then relaxed. The blaster that fired was not Sultia's, but Chuck's. Sultia's body slumped to the cockpit floor and the rifle clattered, still in his grasp.

"You..." said Quincy, "you killed him."

"He was going to shoot you," said Chuck. It felt like he should say more, but he couldn't find the words.

Prialla kicked Chuck's feet out from under him, and he fell to the floor landing hard on his back. She grabbed the gun that he had taken from her moments before, and turned it toward his face. Chuck closed his eyes in terror and heard the sound of the blaster firing - and the intense heat of the blast that...

He opened his eyes. He was not dead. Prialla's body, minus the head, had slumped against the cockpit wall. The gun she had almost used on Chuck was still in her hand. He turned to Quincy, who held Sultia's blaster rifle in his quivering hands.

"You..." said Chuck, "you killed her."

Quincy grinned, but his face still had a look of horror on it. "She was going to shoot you."

An alarm blared. Chuck instantly realized that their two and a half minutes were up. They were now 30 seconds from the planet.

And they didn't have the time to turn.

"Crap!" He yelled, jumping into his seat to initiating a full burn anyway, turning the ship perpendicular to their direction of travel even though he knew it would not help. The rel drive - that could change their course in seconds - was not ready to fire and would take minutes to warm up. Minutes that they simply did not have.

Quincy, not quite understanding, asked, "What is it?"

"The planet! We're going to hit!"

"I thought the autopilot would have steered us?"

"The autopilot doesn't turn on automatically!"

"It doesn't?" asked Quincy. "But it did before..."

"I turned it on myself when I stood up. I used the foot pedal."

Quincy paused. "So you lied to them?"

"Yeah!"

"And the biometric stuff?"

"All lies."

"And the thing that turns the power back on?"

"I don't even think that one's possible."

Quincy laughed. "Nice!"

"Thanks, but we're in trouble here!"

Chuck and Quincy could not see the planet through the windshield because they were aimed to the side, firing the conventional drives at full burn at a 90-degree angle to their direction of flight. On the display however Halfnor was looming, and getting visibly larger. They were traveling fast enough to cross the entire diameter of the planet in a single second, and they were about 20 diameters away.

20 seconds.

"We have too much mass!" said Quincy. "If we could dump our cargo..."

"No time!" yelled Chuck. "It's going to be close, but we're still going to hit."

Quincy's fingers were already playing on his computer. "Man. We're less than 20 metric tons from being light enough to make it."

"Can't we use the a-grav?"

"No, that only works on gravity. Our problem's momentum."

"How much is 20 tons?"

"Not a lot."

"In cargo containers?"

"Half full of lead? They probably weigh 40 or so."

Chuck laughed, and slammed his open palm on a control. Immediately, the alarm stopped.

"Hey!" said Quincy. "What did you do?"

Chuck grinned. "I dropped a bomb!"

"The containers in the bomb bay! Of course! So we're going to clear the planet!"

"Not by much, but yes!"

The 8 half-containers struck the atmosphere of Halfnor at fifteen thousand kilometers per second - or 5 percent of the speed of light. They passed through 100 kilometers of air in a fraction of a second and buried into the planet's crust. Then they ruptured, releasing the antimatter which - upon contacting the planet's crust - exploded with a fury. Soil, rock, and the crust itself was thrown hundreds of kilometers in every direction.

For millions of years afterward, the resulting crater would be visible from space. But the planet - and its population - survived.

The Crimson Lien streaked over the planet, also at fifteen thousand kilometers per second. It missed the tenuous - but at this speed destructive - upper atmosphere by a few hundred kilometers and zipped past the planet in a single second.

They had escaped!

Copyright © Wesley Clifford, 2010

CC-BY-SA License

Look for more at:

http://wesley.planetretcon.com