Beyond the Event Horizon Read online

  “Well, yes. I have seen what’s going on in the asteroid belt. All the large cargo vessels are now only flying in convoys escorted by a military ship. We are flying somewhat to one side of it, but all the same, who knows...”

  Kimble got up and approached the main screen in the centre of the bridge. Bringing up a map of the Solar System, he made a gesture to magnify one sector of it. With a few more gestures, he drew several lines.

  “The red zone extends up to this limit. Military intelligence considers that a ship like ours, moving there without an armed escort, has a 60 per cent probability of being attacked by pirates. In this sector, the yellow one, the danger is reduced to five per cent, and in the green zone it barely exists.

  “Our flight trajectory will pass mainly through the green sector. We only touch the yellow at a tangent and leave it again after two hours. I think the probability of coming up against pirates is negligibly small.”

  “It says in my report that there are believed to be two pirate ships parked in the yellow sector. They tried to seize a ship, but, after an unsuccessful attempt, withdrew to here. They are most likely still there,” said Steve, outlining part of the yellow sector on the screen.

  Kimble laughed.

  “Such information is usually only given to the ship’s captain.”

  “But this is not exactly a routine mission. And we are carrying something more valuable than the usual ore. You could make quite a bit of money out of it.”

  Steve could see that the captain hesitated for a second, considering whether he should share certain information with him.

  “I know where those ships are. I’ve been keeping an eye on them for some days now,” he said, and signalled to the ship’s computer to lock the door to the bridge. “Here’s where those two ships are. Here’s one, here’s the other. There’s another one with them, but I’m not sure that one’s moving,” explained the captain, indicating certain points on the visualisation.

  As the intelligence dossier sent to Steve a few hours previously had warned, the two ships were just where they were expected to be. The two points denoting them were marked in red. Lines from them ran to their own ship, showing the best interception trajectories.

  “Do you know anything about the type of ship? Or the crew?”

  Kimble said nothing in reply, but just changed the map. Steve saw two photographs, apparently taken through an onboard telescope from the ship the pirates had tried to take by storm a little less than a week ago.

  The photographs were taken from a very great distance for such small objects. There were no details; all that could be seen were silhouettes. Steve just shook his head.

  “They don’t mean anything to me. Can you make anything out from them?”

  “They’re old army attack ships, 2110 model.”

  “Army attack ships? Where did the pirates get them?”

  “They are written off from active service after 40 years of flights and sold to anyone who wants them. The weapons are taken out, of course, and so is the additional armour plating. Without them, they are no different from ordinary civil ships. Except maybe that the engines will be a bit more powerful,” Kimble explained.

  “And how many crewmen can they hold?”

  “Up to fifty.”

  “Really!” exclaimed Steve. “How can you speak so calmly about it?”

  Kimble stared at him briefly. This could be read as a mild rebuke for a naïve question.

  “It would be child’s play for just five armed fighters, equipped in the right way, to take us over. It’s not a matter of how many there are in the crew. If they make the mistake of trying to take us by storm, it will be their last mistake. Did you notice the tarpaulin-covered crates when you were in the cargo compartment?”

  “I thought they were spares of some kind for the ship.”

  “Some are, but not all of them. I have something put by against attempts to seize the ship. The high command understands the importance of our expedition, so they’ve given us something to bite back with.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  “Put your mind completely at rest. There’s no way they can take us. If they knew what we’re carrying, they’d avoid us like the plague.”

  5

  Steve had only just finished his morning shower when there was a knock at his door. Clive was on the threshold.

  “Steve, Kimble asked me to tell you that he wants you on the bridge, pronto. He tried to get in touch with you but he couldn’t find you.”

  “Yes, I’ve only just got out of the shower,” Steve replied.

  Clive nodded and went to his cabin.

  Steve hurriedly dried himself, quickly combed his hair, and, eating his breakfast as he went, set off for the bridge.

  “Here, take a look at this,” said Kimble, relocking the door as soon as Steve had entered and pointing to the main screen.

  The radar visualisation with which Steve was already familiar was showing on the display. Now the red dots had left their parking place and had started moving towards their ship, exactly following one of the trajectories predicted by the ship’s computer. The dots were now bigger and winking constantly. A warning showed in the corner of the screen:

  “Attention, danger of ship seizure.”

  “It looks as though they’re monitoring our ship’s computer,” remarked Steve, surprised at how exactly the pirate ships were repeating the interception trajectory predicted by their AI.

  “The flight trajectory calculation program is the same everywhere, so there’s nothing surprising in that.”

  “What actions will we take? Are you going to notify the crew?”

  “Not all of them; just two, so that they can unwrap our surprises. There’s no need to bother the rest.”

  “Could I take a look at what you’re hiding in the cargo compartment?”

  “Certainly. You are one of those who will be unwrapping them. That young colleague of yours, is he also getting the intelligence information?”

  “Clive? No. He said he wasn’t interested and it would just be a waste of his time. He’s not interested in anything much at all, apart from science.”

  “I understand. OK.” Kimble signalled to the computer to put him in touch with one of the crew. “Toshi?”

  “Yes, Skip, I’m listening.”

  Apart from the voice, the loudspeakers also carried the sounds of scraping metal producing a ringing echo. Only the cargo compartment was big enough to create acoustics like that.

  “Are you in position? Steve will be joining you; he also knows what’s going on.”

  “Roger. An extra pair of hands will be very useful,” replied Toshi. He spoke haltingly, with brief pauses to recover his breath.

  After passing through the gravity lock to the ship’s compartments without artificial gravity, Steve, now subjected to weightlessness, was at once conscious of the breakfast he had just eaten in his stomach. It was not a pleasant sensation. Any sudden movement immediately brought on severe nausea. The food wanted to come out. He found an inhaler with a nausea remedy and took a deep breath. After a few seconds, his stomach calmed down and the unpleasant nausea passed.

  The cargo compartment was flooded with bright daylight. It now looked bigger than it had seemed to Steve the first time. Something was going on in the far corner.

  The shortest route there was in a straight line. He only had to kick off strongly and his body would float there on its own. Unfortunately, free flight was forbidden in such large spaces. The engines were now switched off, but at any moment the ship’s computer might restart them to correct the flight trajectory. You never knew which way the ship would rock when carrying out a manoeuvre, and which wall might suddenly become the floor and which the ceiling. If you should fall from a height of 20 metres, even half a G of acceleration would be enough for you to break something. So he had to put on magnetic soles and trudge wearily to the other end of the compartment, where Toshi was already waiting for him impatiently.

  “We have
to unload these two containers here and then those three over there,” he said, pointing to some huge iron rectangles. The first was around four metres high and three times as long. The others were no higher than the height of a man.

  “Where shall we start, with the small ones?” asked Steve.

  “No, better with the big ones; they have drones in them. We can unload them onto the starting platform right away, there will be more room.

  “Look, here are the tarpaulin locks,” said Toshi, pointing to some massive metal mechanisms. “I’ll crawl in from the other side and tell you when to open them, and watch out! The tarpaulin is under tension. If all the locks are not opened together, there’ll be a tangle, then we’ll be here all night. Got that?”

  Steve nodded. Toshi crawled into the gap between the containers and disappeared from sight. He was agile, and could easily creep into narrow gaps, reminiscent of a black beetle.

  “Ready?” His voice sounded as if it were coming from a pipe.

  “Yes.”

  “OK, we’ll start with the one you’re standing next to. On a count of three: One, two, three!”

  Steve pulled a small lever, and, after a few sharp clicks, the lock opened. It turned out there was a spring inside it, which gently released the tension in the tarpaulin strap.

  “Well done. Now the next one,” Toshi’s voice was heard again.

  “Say, what would happen if the ship switched on the engines while we were taking a tarpaulin off?

  “Nothing. The container is held to the floor by magnetic locks. The tarpaulin is just to conceal it from prying eyes.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  As soon as the other locks were open, Toshi reappeared from the gap between the containers. He waved Steve away, then grabbed the free ends and began to pull the tarpaulin off. It turned out that the tarpaulin did not cover a full-walled container, but only a frame with the walls and roof removed.

  Inside the skeleton container, three rocket motor tubes began to appear, then the tail of a drone, then its body, and finally its slightly pointed nose. On top there were two narrow windows glazed with tinted armoured glass. The drone itself was the size of a large army tow truck.

  “Well, what do you think of it?”

  “Great! But why the windows? Does that mean it can be piloted?”

  “Yes. It has room inside for six people, not counting the pilot. It can be used as an emergency shuttle. You can go from orbit to a planet’s surface in it. Great piece of kit!”

  Toshi put on the manipulator glove for the crane, raised his arm and made a gesture as if calling someone towards him. Then he pointed to the drone and clenched his fist. In the corner, up near the ceiling, a telescopic jib came to life, a green light winked confirming the task, and it began to extend in the indicated direction.

  Reaching the drone, it gently attached itself to a special lock on its roof. Toshi pointed upwards with his index finger, and the drone automatically released its fixings at the bottom. The crane lifted it and froze in anticipation. He then pointed to the starting platform in front of the external lock through which the shuttle had disembarked the crew when they had arrived that first night.

  Once the crane jib had placed the second drone on the platform alongside the first one, it was time for the smaller containers.

  “The rest is easy.”

  “What’s in them?”

  “Combat robots,” said Toshi, and opened one of the containers. Inside was a humanoid combat machine like those Steve had already come across at the base, except that this one was rather smaller. Judging by its design, it was a new model.

  Steve had heard from engineering students that there was a common belief among them that there was some correlation between a successful design and an aesthetic external appearance. If a ship, a robot or something else was a joy to behold, you could confidently assert that its design was successful. And the uglier the machine, the more design faults there would be in it.

  This robot looked more attractive than those Steve had seen at the base. And since each model was an improvement on the previous one, the newer it was, the more elegant it would look. It seemed the engineers were right.

  The robot in the box was squatting with its head inclined forwards. In this position it looked more like a cube than a humanoid, but it took up much less space that way.

  “Careful! Move back a bit,” warned Toshi.

  Steve obediently took several paces back. Toshi took a key from his chest, inserted it somewhere in the small of the metal back and turned it. The robot slowly lifted its simulation of a head. Its optics were hidden behind thick dark acrylic glass, and its head was more like a futuristic motorcycle helmet.

  Toshi made a few well-practised movements to initialise the robot. After checking its system, he ordered it to leave the container. The robot obediently straightened up to its full height, and, with a clanking noise, stepped out.

  Only now could they see how tall it was. Steve measured it with his eyes from head to foot. It must have been about six and a half feet tall.

  After activating and checking the remaining machines and supplying them with ammunition, Toshi wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  “Skip, we’re all done here.”

  “Roger. Put the robots on duty. Steve, return here to the bridge.”

  After passing through the gravity lock on his way back to the bridge, Steve sighed with relief. Whatever you say, gravity is a lot more pleasant than weightlessness. There’s no nausea, and your face doesn’t swell up like a balloon due to the rush of blood to your head.

  “Well, let’s see if our pursuers will listen to the voice of reason,” said Kimble with the hint of a smile, and switched on the radio.

  Like any other large cargo ship captain, deep down Kimble was longing to take revenge on the pirates. Anyone with twenty or more years of commercial flight experience to the limits of assimilated space could always remember unpleasant stories about space robbers. If you have experienced their cruelty first-hand, any pity for the corsairs instantly evaporates.

  “Attention unidentified ships on approach course, this is the captain of EMC1906. I consider your actions an attempt to seize my ship. I order you to cease your pursuit. Change course,” said Kimble, and, after switching off the microphone, added: “I bet they don’t bat an eyelid.”

  Silence was the response. Kimble waited several minutes and repeated the warning. The pirate ships continued to fly on the same course, as if they had not heard the captain.

  “Attention unidentified ships. This is the captain of EMC1906. Change course. This is the last warning. Keep at a distance of not less than one million kilometres. We are authorised to use force without further warning.”

  Kimble grimaced at his own words.

  “I hate having to warn the enemy.”

  Steve just shrugged his shoulders.

  “Flight rules are what they are. You can’t do otherwise.”

  “Exactly.”

  Kimble patiently waited another few minutes. There was no response from the ships, nor were they going to change course.

  “They are not reacting at all,” said Steve, somewhat surprised.

  Kimble laughed. “Of course they aren’t. They think we’re ordinary civilians, just bluffing.” He looked at the clock again.

  “All right, they don’t want to listen to the voice of reason...” He switched off and contacted Toshi.

  “Let the birds out of the nest,” he ordered him.

  Toshi could be seen on the image from the camera in the cargo compartment standing next to the drones and saluting, then keying something in on his tablet. Vapour issued from the tails of the drones, and Toshi hurried towards the exit. The magnetic soles made movement difficult, particularly running. Toshi was lifting his knees unnaturally high, trying to run as fast as possible before the cargo compartment became filled with mist.

  Eventually, the drones started their engines. The screen showed their tail ends beginning to light up. The first
one rose slowly and floated to the exit. A few seconds later, the second one followed.

  Kimble switched on communication with their onboard computers. All systems were working normally. Their coordinate system was linked directly to the heart of EMC1906, its reactor. Now they were moving at two and a half metres a second relative to the ship.

  When the first one went out into space, the ship’s computer divided the picture into two parts. One part of the screen showed the view from the external camera, the other showed the view from the cargo compartment. A few moments later, the second one passed through the lock. By that time, the first one had already turned and accelerated away from the ship towards the pirates. Its speed rapidly increased to 100 metres a second. The second one followed, a few dozen seconds behind it in flight time.

  The external camera tracked them, keeping them in the centre of the picture and gradually increasing the optical magnitude. Then the image suddenly disappeared and reappeared. Now the picture was coming from a telescope. Both drones were clearly visible against the background of the black starry sky, although they were covered in light-absorbing paint. The speed readings increased still further to 500 metres a second. Now the two drones, which so far had been flying in the same direction, accelerated in absolute synchrony.

  1000 metres a second, 1500, 2000, 2500, 3000...

  After passing the five thousand mark, the computer changed the units to kilometres a second.

  6.0... 6.5... 7.0... 7.5 kilometres a second...

  “Why have they separated?” asked Steve in surprise.

  “They will approach the target from different sides. It’s harder to neutralise them that way,” replied Kimble calmly. He leaned back in his seat and put one leg on the console in front of him.

  “When will they be in position?”

  “In three or four hours,” replied the Captain, not taking his eyes off the screen in front of him.

  “And then what?”

  Kimble raised his eyes.

  “Then there will be two less pirate ships.”