It took Mark only moments to spot the interloper. He immediately called Alcântara. Frank was there, of course.
"Mr. Weatherly," he said, "I'm picking up our packages loud and clear. But I'm also picking up a fourth signal. Did you send an extra shipment?"
There was a short pause. "Negative, Man's Dream, but we're picking it up, too."
Mark grunted. "I'll check it out." He switched to a frequency commonly used for space communication. "Man's Dream to unknown spacecraft. Please identify. You are entering a hazardous area."
After more than a minute, he got a reply. "We are an unnamed Soyuz spacecraft belonging to International News Network," said a voice in a pilot's typical dry tones. As it completed its sentence, it was overridden by another, more excitable voice. "We are the press, and we know exactly where we are. We are here to cover the arrival of the asteroid."
"What!" Mark was astounded. Where the hell did a reporter get a spacecraft? And who the hell would launch an old Soyuz? He flipped back to Frank's frequency.
"I heard," Frank replied. "I'll take over, but stand by. We may need your help."
Frank flipped to the common frequency. "INN capsule, this is Alcântara Control. You are in a hazardous area, and your presence threatens the lives of people who are trying to accomplish something important. Please leave the L-1 position."
The voice replying was the second, more excitable one. "Not a chance, Mr. Big Shot. My network spent millions on this coverage, and we're going to get it. The people have a right to know!"
Frank's voice sounded disgusted. "You jerks decide what the people have a right to know. But right now, you'd better understand that in less than an hour, a rock more than twenty miles long is going to come barging into the space you now occupy. It doesn't have air brakes. There are six people aboard that rock, and eight more in Man's Dream. And you're putting those lives at risk. And your own, of course, but nobody cares about cockroaches that get squashed."
The voice turned angry. "Screw you, you arrogant asshole. What are you trying to hide? Why don't you want witnesses? Smuggling another nuclear reactor? Or maybe a bomb this time? If you've got nothing to hide, you've got nothing to fear."
Frank laughed. "I figured that line was coming. Standard answer to it is, 'I'm hiding everything that isn't any of your business'. Now get that tin can out of that Lagrange point!"
"What are you going to do, big shot? Sue me?"
"Actually, yes. And your editor, and your network's News Director, Programming Director, CEO and every member of its Board of directors. Oh, and your pilot will never fly again, of course. That's in addition to criminal charges against all of you for reckless indifference and attempted murder."
The voice gained an edge of panic. "We're just trying to cover the biggest space story of the century." The voice cut off abruptly, and came back almost a minute later. " . . . No, I said. He's bluffing. Listen, big shot. Just leave us alone. You keep making noise about how space is free, and nobody owns it. Well, we're just using that free space. You don't own the L1 point, you know."
There was a silence of more than a minute before Frank's voice returned. "All right. I've just sent my attorneys transcripts of our conversation, and they are now drafting arrest warrants for all those I mentioned. Oh, I don't have your name, yet, but they'll just use 'John Doe' warrants. Captain Jenson, are you still monitoring this conversation?"
"Yes, sir," Mark replied. And having a lot of fun doing it, he left unsaid.
"Good. When Eros approaches, I want you to put Man's Dream between these idiots and Eros. After all, we must protect them from harm. They're in a small capsule. I think that if you turn your belly to it, you can protect them."
"You bastard," the voice yelped, "We won't be able to see a goddam thing!"
"Not my problem. But you are in a hazardous position. Captain Jenson is merely doing his duty to protect bystanders."
Mark grinned. This was going to be fun. But he had work to do first. "Uh, sir, I'll need to gather in the canisters first."
"Of course," Frank replied. "But be sure you protect these people from any debris or anything that might threaten them when Eros arrives."
"Understood, sir. I think I'll be back in plenty of time."
Mark was glad the updating of the Buran had included small drive rockets in the tail; the original hadn't had them. He boosted toward the first canister. George Rayburn, his co-pilot, was already suited up. He headed for the cargo bay. They would use the cargo arm to gather in the canisters. George would then attach them, one by one, to the outside of the ship. The inside of the cargo bay was already full.
The procedure went smoothly, and Mark hoped those damned reporters hadn't seen a thing. The canisters increased the ship's mass considerably, and complicated its handling, but Mark was sure he could control it until he could drop them on Eros.
He was heading back toward the capsule when he heard a sudden call. "Mayday! Mayday!" called the reporter's voice. "We have an air leak and require immediate help. Mayday!"
Mark rolled his eyes. He suspected the reporter had gone to plan B. If Man's Dream was going to block his view, well, he'd get aboard Man's Dream."
Frank obviously agreed. But no one can ignore a Mayday call. "Mark," Frank said on the Alcântara frequency, "You have to rescue those idiots, of course. But Man's Dream has a very small passenger compartment. Much too small to hold three more people."
Mark's grin widened. It was standard procedure in a small capsule like a Soyuz for the occupants to wear space suits constantly. Besides, the Buran's personnel airlock had been designed to mate with the Soyuz hatch. So, there would be no problem bringing them aboard. But as Frank had hinted, he'd be damned if he'd let them near a viewport or a transmitter!
The cargo hold had no ports. So, the reporter would be present for the big event, crammed in between the boxes and drums, just as he wanted. But he wasn't going to see it, and he wasn't going to film it. Mark could hardly wait to see the expression on his face.
"By the way, Mark," Frank said on the common frequency, "be sure you put a beacon on that capsule, so we can retrieve it later. We'll want to see where it came from, and of course, the investigators will want to examine the damage. For insurance purposes, of course."
"Yes, sir." Mark didn't trust himself to say more, for fear he'd burst into laughter.
***
Eros' crew missed all the excitement; they were quite occupied. Dolf was now basing his computations on Man's Dream's beacon, since the simple instruction "L-1" was no longer precise enough. His instruments showed the small dot that indicated the Soyuz, but he neither knew nor cared what it was as his fingers flew on the computer keyboard.
David was upstairs, playing the dozen engine controls like a pipe organ, hands and feet. The others were strapped into their acceleration couches, though Ron was poised to jump into action on a moment's notice, and Yuri had his hand on the lever that would transfer control to his own board. Raoul simply sat and fidgeted. Even his seemingly inexhaustible store of jokes had deserted him. Yoshi's lips moved in what Raoul assumed to be silent prayer.
The huge potato-shaped rock crept into the L-1 position with glacial slowness. "Fifteen-second max burn . . . Now!" Dolf cried, and David fed max power to the forward-facing rockets
He counted down from fifteen, while watching a clock, and then suddenly threw the drive handles back to idle. "Delta-Vee?" he shouted.
"Secure in Lagrange point to the limit of accuracy, sir," Dolf replied crisply. "We appear to have arrived!"