Earth unaware

CHAPTER 23

Kleopatra

The beeping alert on Lem’s desk woke him, and he peeled himself out of his hammock. He drifted to the desk and waved his hand through the holospace. Chubs’s head appeared. “The Formics are approaching Kleopatra,” said Chubs.

“Have they vented?” asked Lem.

“No. They’re decelerating. Fast. We did some additional, long-range scans to see why. It looks like a mass of ships has congregated at Kleopatra and positioned themselves directly in the Formics’ path. They’ve essentially built a blockade.”

“How many ships?”

“Twenty-four by our last count. Data from the sky scanner continues to come in, so we may have some more ships pop up as we get closer. We’re still quite a distance behind the Formic ship, but we were closing the gap with the Formics decelerating. I went ahead and ordered the flight crew to match their deceleration and maintain our distance until you could get up here.”

“I’m on my way.”

Lem threw on his uniform and made his way to the helm. He was still buttoning his jacket when he arrived and met Chubs at the holospace. The systems chart had been replaced with a rendering of all the ships positioned in space forming the blockade. There was a bit of distance between each ship, but together they made a giant wall between the Formic ship and Earth.

“Who are they?” asked Lem.

“Corporates and free miners,” said Chubs. “We can tell from their shape and design that there are ships from Juke Limited, WU-HU, MineTek, and several clans of free miners.”

“Then people know about the Formics,” said Lem. “Does everyone know? Does Earth know?”

“Impossible to say,” said Chubs. “But I highly doubt it. We’re still way too far away for the Formic ship to show up on Earth scopes. The ship’s too small and too dim. The only way Earth could know the ship exists is if someone out here told them. And the interference here is as thick as ever. These ships forming the blockade can’t communicate with Earth any more than we can. Just because they know doesn’t mean anyone else knows. Plus notice that they’re all mining ships. No military ships among them. These aren’t ships sent from Earth. They were already out here. My guess is, one of them saw the Formic ship on their sky scanner and alerted the other ships in the immediate vicinity. Transmissions within a few hundred kilometers get through fine, and this is a main flight path. So there’s going to be traffic. Plus the interference would cause ships to cluster together anyway to try to figure out what was going on.”

“When will the Formics reach them?”

“Within a few hours.”

“Those ships have no idea what the Formics are capable of. They’ll try to communicate with them like the Italians did. We’ve got to tell them what we know.”

“We can’t, Lem. We’d have to get close enough to reach them on the radio. That would put us within range of the Formics’ weapons. There’s likely to be a battle, and we would be thrown into the middle of it.”

“We can’t sit back and let them die, Chubs. Some of those ships are our own people.”

Chubs lowered his voice. “May I speak to you in private, Lem?”

Lem was surprised by the question but he obliged. They moved into the conference room adjacent to the helm, and Chubs closed the door behind them.

“We can’t lose sight of our mission, Lem. We’ve got intel to get to Earth.”

“We’re not losing sight of anything,” said Lem. “We’re saving people’s lives. We don’t have to join in the fight. We don’t even have to slow down. We fly in fast and transmit a message to the ships as we pass. We tell them to flee. We send them everything we know, and we get out. We’ve been waiting for the Formics to decelerate so we can pass them and beat them to Earth. This is our chance.”

“It’s too dangerous, Lem. We can’t go anywhere near the Formic ship. It’s set to vent at any moment. If we’re even remotely close to it when it does, we’re ashes. Consider another alternative. We change course now. We get off the ecliptic and move up in a tall parabola, going high over the Formic ship while it’s stopped. Then we come back down toward Luna. That way, even if the ship vents, we’re too far away to suffer any damage.”

“Then everyone on those ships will die,” said Lem. “They’ll stay and fight and they’ll die. Plus we would lose valuable time taking a circuitous route. Look, I’ve heard your counsel. I appreciate it. I acknowledge that what I’m proposing is a risk. But I’m making the call here. We’re not ditching anyone else to save our own necks. I’ve done that too many damn times already. We’re staying the course.” He wiped his hand through the holospace over the conference table in a particular sequence, and the navigator’s head appeared. “Accelerate back to our previous speed,” said Lem.

“Yes, sir.” The navigator looked to his left as he reached for his controls.

“Hold that order,” said Chubs.

The navigator stopped moving. Lem was shocked. Chubs had just challenged Lem’s authority in front of a member of the crew. The navigator didn’t move. He was either so stunned by Chubs’s insubordination that he was too shocked to fulfill Lem’s orders, or he was actually following Chubs’s orders over Lem’s.

Chubs waved his hand through the holospace, and the navigator disappeared. “You can’t do this, Lem.”

“I am the captain of this ship. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“You don’t understand, Lem. I can’t let you do this.”

Chubs’s expression was calm and his tone polite, but the implication was clear. He was claiming to have more authority. He was completely undermining Lem’s position as captain. It was total insubordination, if not outright mutiny. Lem opened the door and waved two crewmen inside. When they entered, he gestured to Chubs. “This man is removed from office. He is to be confined to quarters for the reminder of this flight. I want him off this helm.”

The two crewmen looked sheepish and didn’t move.

“Is there something unclear about those orders?” said Lem. “Place this man under house arrest.”

There was an awkward silence. The two crewmen glanced at one another and then looked at Chubs, as if waiting for him to give them orders.

Lem suddenly understood. He wasn’t actually the person in charge. He had never been in charge. Not for one minute of the expedition. Chubs was the real captain. And everyone knew it but Lem.

“You don’t actually have the authority to remove me, Lem,” Chubs said kindly. “Your father was afraid that we might get in a tough situation, and he gave me the authority to override any decision that might put you in physical danger. And in my judgment, what you’re proposing puts you in danger, so we won’t do it.”

His tone was polite but final.

Lem turned to the two crewmen, who averted their eyes, embarrassed.

Lem laughed inside. This whole trip had been a charade. His entire assignment: serving as captain, overseeing the field tests, safeguarding the glaser. It was all one of Father’s games. Father hadn’t given him any authority. Father hadn’t trusted him. He had merely allowed Lem to foolishly play pretend. All because Father didn’t think Lem intelligent enough to make his own decisions and command his own destiny.

“I’ve been in danger this whole trip,” said Lem. “That never stopped you before.”

“You were never in danger during the bump,” said Chubs. “And Weigh Station Four caught me off guard. I made a mistake by agreeing to join El Cavador. Had I known then what we know now, I never would have allowed it. Your father will have my head for that. I’m not making that mistake again.”

Lem smiled. “Well, I appreciate now knowing the real situation.”

“We’ll take the parabola route,” said Chubs. “And we will issue these orders in your name, so that no one will know that there’s been any interference in your authority. This will be treated as if it were your decision.”

“Thank you,” said Lem, without a hint of sarcasm. “That’s very thoughtful.” He wasn’t going to act like a petulant child. He wasn’t even angry with them. They were merely doing their jobs.

“And for what it’s worth,” said Chubs, “I think your course of action is better than what we’re actually doing. We’ll burn a lot of fuel changing course like this. We have the fuel, yes, but doing this will deplete nearly all of our reserves. We’ll still make it to Luna, but we won’t be able to deviate course again. We’ll be coasting into home. So if it were up to me, we’d plow ahead and take the risk. But it’s not up to me. It’s not my ship.”

“It’s not my ship, either,” said Lem.

Chubs nodded. They understood each other.

Lem excused the men and stayed behind in the conference room, standing at the window. Soon the canvas of stars in front of him rotated slightly as the ship changed course. There would be a fight at Kleopatra, Lem knew. Or a slaughter, more likely. Lem didn’t believe he could have saved all of the ships, but he was certain he could have saved a few. It would have been a simple matter of convincing them to flee-which wouldn’t have been that tough of an argument to make, really. Instead, he was cutting them loose and running away, just as he done to Podolski and El Cavador and his own men.

I am your puppet, Father. Even when you’re billions of klicks away.

He realized then that there was no one on the ship he could trust. In fact, as long as he worked for Father, he could never trust anyone else under Father’s employ. Father would go to any length and use any person to keep Lem under his control. Ah, Father. Such irony. You probably actually think you’re being a loving, protective parent.

Lem looked at his reflection in the glass and straightened his jacket.

This is war, Father. I will never be free of you as long as you own this company and I am under your employ. I am done playing your little life lessons. It’s time I taught you a few of my own.