Didn't even know Dutchman had a partner. A miner's numbers man was damned welcome on the case. Desperately welcome.
Meanwhile Sandman had his onboard encyclopedia. He had his histories. He hunted, paged, ferreted, trying to find a concrete answer on the mass of the antique inerts—which was only part of the equation. Velocity and vector depended on the ship that, somewhere out there, fifty and more years ago, had fired what might be one, or a dozen inerts. There could be a whole swarm inbound, a decades-old broadside that wouldn't decay, or slow, or stop, forever, until it found a rock to hit or a ship full of people, or a space station, or a planet.
Pell usually had one or another of the big merchanters in. Sandman searched his news files, trying to figure. The big ships had guns. Guns could deal with an inert, at least deflecting it— ifthey had an armed ship in the system. A big ship could chase it down, even grab it and decelerate it. He fed numbers into what was becoming a jumbled thread of inputs, speculations, calculations. Hell of it was—there was one thing that would shift an inert's course. One thing that lay at the heart of a star system, one thing that anchored planets, that anchored moons and stations: that gravity well that led straight to the system's nuclear heart—the sun itself. A star collected the thickest population of planets, and people, and vulnerable real estate to the same place as it collected stray missiles. And no question, the old inert was infalling toward the sun, increasing in v as it went, a man-made comet with a comet-sized punch, that could crack planetary crust, once it gathered all the v the sun's pull could give it.
T_REX: Sandman, possible that thing's even knocked about the Oort Cloud. T_REX: Perturbed out of orbit.
UNICORN: Perturbing us.
LOVER18: I've got a trajectory on that buoy debris chunk. . .
LOVER18: . . . No danger to us.
Alarm went off. BettyBfired her automated avoidance system. Sandman hooked a foot and both arms and clung to the counter, stylus punching a hole in his hand as his spare styluses hit the bulkhead. The bedding bunched up in the end of the hammock. It was usually a short burst. It wasn't. Sandman clung and watched the camera display, as something occluded the stars for a long few seconds.
"Hell!" he said aloud, alone in the dark. Desperately, watching a juggernaut go by him. "Hell!" One human mote like a grain of dust.
Then he saw stars. It was past him. What had hit the buoy was past him and now—now, damn, he and the buoy were two points on a straight line: he had the vector; and he had the camera and with that, God, yes, he could calculate the velocity.
He calculated. He transmitted both, drawing a simple straight line in the universe, calamity or deliverance reduced to its simplest form.
He extended the line toward the sun.
Calamity. Plane of the ecliptic, with Pell Station and its heavy traffic on the same side of the sun as Beta. The straight line extended, bending at the last, velocity accelerating, faster, faster, faster onto the slope of a star's deep well.
DUTCHMAN: That doesn't look good, Sandman.
UNICORN: :(
DUTCHMAN: Missing Pell. Maybe not missing me. . .
DUTCHMAN: . . . Braking. Stand by,
UNICORN: Dutchman, take care.
LOVER18: Letting those damn things loose in the first place. . . T_REX: Not liking your calculations, Sandman.
LOVER18: . . . What were they thinking?
FROGPRINCE: I'm awake. Sandman, Dutchman, you all right out there?
DUTCHMAN: I can see it. . .
UNICORN: Dutchman, be all right.
DUTCHMAN: I'm all right. . .
DUTCHMAN: . . . it's going past now. It's huge.
HAWK29: What's going on?
LOVER18: Read your damn transcript, Hawkboy.
CRAZYCHARLIE: Lurking and running numbers.
DUTCHMAN: It's clear. It's not that fast.
SANDMAN: Not that fast* yet.*
DUTCHMAN: We're running numbers, too. Not good.
SANDMAN: Everybody crosscheck calculations. Not sure. . .
SANDMAN: . . . about gravity slope. . .
CRAZYCHARLIE: Could infall the sun.
UNICORN: We're glad you're alright, Dutchman.
SANDMAN: if it infalls, not sure how close to Pell.
WILLWISP: Lurking and listening. Relaying to my local net.
T_REX: That baby's going to come close.
Sandman reached, punched a button for the fragile long-range dish. On BettyB's hull, the arm made a racket, extending, working the metal tendons, pulling the silver fan into a metal flower, already aimed at Beta.
"Warning, warning, warning. This is tender BettyBcalling all craft in line between Pell and Buoy 17. A rogue inert has taken out Buoy 17 and passed my location, 08185 on system schematic. Looks like it's infalling the sun. Calculations incomplete. Buoy 17 destroyed, trajectory of fragments including power plant all uncertain, generally toward Beta. Mass and velocity sufficient to damage. Relay, relay, relay and repeat to all craft in system. Transmission of raw data follows."
He uploaded the images and data he had. He repeated it three times. He tried to figure the power plant's course. It came up headed through empty space.
CRAZYCHARLIE: It's going to come damn close to Pell. . .
CRAZYCHARLIE: . . . at least within shipping lanes and insystem hazard. DUTCHMAN: I figure same. Sandman?
UNICORN: I'm transmitting to Beta.
WILLWISP: Still relaying your flow.
HAWK29: Warn everybody.
UNICORN: It's months out for them.
DUTCHMAN: Those tilings have a stealth coating. Dark. . .
DUTCHMAN: . . . Hard to find. Easy to lose.
UNICORN: Lot of metal. Pity we can't grab it. . .
FROGPRINCE: Don't try it, Unicorn. You and your engines. . .
UNICORN: . . . But it's bigger than I am.
FROGPRINCE: . . . couldn't mass big enough.
UNICORN: I copy that, Froggy. . .
DUTCHMAN: It's going to be beyond us. All well and good if it goes. . . UNICORN: . . . Thanks for caring.
DUTCHMAN: . . . without hitting anything. Little course change here. . . DUTCHMAN: . . . and Pell's going to have real trouble tracking it. HAWK29: I feel a real need for a sandwich and a nap. . .
UNICORN: Hawk, that doesn't make sense.
HAWK29: . . . We've sent our warning. Months down, Pell will fix it. . . HAWK29: . . . All we can do. It's relayed. Passing out of our chat soon. T_REX: Sandman, how sure your decimals?