“She likes to keep an eye on me.”
They took their seats, Priscilla still functioning as pilot. “Two minutes,” said Benny. Jake hoped they’d surface reasonably close to Barton’s World.
“You ever do a rescue before, Jake?” she asked.
“Not like this. Pulled a couple of guys out of a ground station once on the Leopard Moon.”
“Sirius,” she said.
“Very good.”
“One minute,” said Benny.
The Leopard Moon had derived its name from a darkened area that, if one had an active imagination, looked like a leopard. Or maybe a tiger. Take your pick. Its picture had reminded Priscilla of the Horsehead Nebula, which she’d often seen at the Drake Institute, where her father had worked. She’d loved going into one of the observation rooms, where Daddy would switch on the stars and ask what she wanted to see. And she’d tell him and sit there in her chair, apparently afloat in the night, surrounded by the vast shining clouds, the Horsehead and the Eagle and the Flame and the Cat’s Eye, all almost close enough to touch. It was where she’d fallen in love with the sky.
Tawny was wearing her magnetic booties. Priscilla put her on the deck. She’d have felt more comfortable restraining the animal during maneuvers if she could hold on to her. But it wasn’t really a problem. Tawny was good at reacting to the unexpected.
“Activating,” said Benny. The lights dimmed, and everything went briefly out of focus. Then the navigation display showed a starry sky. “Transition complete,” Benny said.
“Okay. Scan for the Gremlin.”
“Roger that, Captain.”
“Also, see if you can locate Barton’s World and put it on the display.”
They were moving slightly under twenty thousand kilometers per hour, relative to the sun. That seemed to be a standard rate when a ship emerged from Barber space. It didn’t matter how slowly or quickly you were moving when you jumped in; you always came out at approximately the same velocity.
Jake looked at the mike. She nodded. “Benny,” he said, “let’s try to talk to them. Go to broadcast mode.”
“Done.”
He signaled for her to take over.
“Gremlin,” she said, “this is the Copperhead. Do you read?” They sat for a moment, hoping to get lucky, hoping for a quick response. But except for static, the radio remained silent.
“I have Barton’s position,” said Benny. “Range is a bit less than 750,000 kilometers.”
“Not bad,” said Jake. It was probably as close as they could have hoped for.
The seconds ticked off.
Jake was saying something about how it would help if they could make the jump system more accurate, but Priscilla was watching the time, not paying attention.
And they got a reply: “Copperhead, this is the Gremlin. We are in orbit around Barton’s World. Code five. Repeat, code five.” The response had come in at forty-seven seconds.
“What’s the status of the bomb?” she asked.
While they waited for the reply, Jake took a deep breath. “We got one break,” he said. “That’s Joshua Miller. He’s the right guy to have in charge.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Priscilla. “Let’s hope we can get him out of there.” The clock counted off the seconds again. The signal crossed to the Gremlin, and the reply started back.
Benny broke in: “Switching to directional transmission.”
“Good. Set intercept course. Let’s move.”
“Captain, I have Barton’s World on the scopes. The signal is coming from that direction.”
“Copperhead,” said Miller, “the bomb exploded thirty-two hours ago. Took out the engines. Fortunately, no casualties. But we are at Barton’s World in a failing orbit. Repeat, failing orbit. Estimate twelve to thirteen hours before we go down.”
They angled to starboard, assuming a new course. “Benny,” said Priscilla, “how long to get there?”
“If we had sufficient fuel to sustain acceleration and braking, we could make it in approximately six hours.”
“I’m not interested in theoreticals. Give me a practical estimate. How long to get there and still have some fuel left?”
“Twelve hours, with prudent fuel expenditure.”
“Gremlin,” said Priscilla, “how reliable is your estimate?” She sat with her jaw propped on her fist, waiting for the response. Jake sat quietly, watching.
“Copperhead, the estimate looks good.”
“All right, Gremlin. We’ll be there in ten hours.”
“I was suggesting twelve hours,” said Benny.
“Burn some fuel. Do it in ten.” Jake nodded agreement. “Make it happen, Benny.”
He leaned in and took the mike. “Josh,” he said. “This is Loomis. How many people do you have on board?”
They waited. Then: “Hello, Jake. Glad you’re here. We have twelve total.”
Twelve? Priscilla glanced up at the overhead air duct. No way their life support could handle that.
Jake took a deep breath. “I thought you were hauling cargo.”
“That was the original plan, Jake. But we got pressed into service to run a tour.”
“Okay, Josh. We’ll see you in a bit.” He stared at the display, which showed the relative positions of Barton’s and the Copperhead. “Benny, we’ll start acceleration in four minutes.”
“Yes, Jake.”
“Priscilla, if you need to do anything, this would be a good time.”
* * *
PRISCILLA HIT THE washroom, then checked on Tawny. They’d put her in what they now referred to as her acceleration closet, where the blanket and sheets would protect her. She meowed when the door opened. Let me out.
Priscilla wanted to give her a hug but was afraid she’d get loose. “We’ll do a couple of breaks along the way, Tawny,” she said. “But for now, you’re going to be stuck in there.”
Meow.
She had a plastic bag with kernels and a slit that allowed her to get at them. Her water was in a flexible plastic bottle. With a soft nozzle. Priscilla secured an imager to the inside wall so she could keep an eye on the animal. “See you later, pal.” She sighed and returned to the bridge. Jake was waiting. She slipped into her seat and told Benny to move out.
The acceleration pushed her back.
She put Tawny on the auxiliary screen. The cat was pressed against the back side of the closet. The blanket and sheets seemed to be providing sufficient cushioning. But she did not look happy.
“Incoming,” said Benny. “From Union.” He put it on-screen.
Copperhead, we have just received a code five from the Gremlin. They’ve suffered loss of power and are currently in a failing orbit around Barton’s World. We’re not sure how long they can maintain orbit. Best estimate three days from this transmission. Acknowledge.
It was well over two days old.
“Josh,” Jake said. “I assume another ship is coming?”
Priscilla closed her eyes and just concentrated on breathing while she waited for the answer. Benny asked if she was okay.
“Yes,” she said.
Then, finally, Josh: “Yes. The Thompson’s en route. Coming in from Ross 128. Should be insystem in about thirty hours.”