Orson Card - Earth unavare

“Do we know what the lasers are composed of?” asked Segundo.

“No,” said Edimar. “But I don’t think it’s photons. Their beams can be up to a meter thick and they act differently than our lasers. If you’re right about the ram drive, if they’re using gamma plasma as propulsion, it’s not far-fetched to suggest that they use coherent gamma rays as their weapons, too. I mean, why not? If they can harness gamma plasma for propulsion, why not harness it and laserize it as a means of defense?”

“Weapons and fuel from the same substance,” said Concepcion. “That’s certainly economical.”

“Laserized gamma plasma?” said Selmo “That makes our PKs sound like a joke.”

“They are a joke,” said Bahzim.

“The composition of the lasers is all speculation,” said Dreo. “What we do know is that their lasers only target collision threats. The hormigas aren’t blasting everything in sight. They’re conservative with their fire. They follow the same protocol of any other ship in that regard. Unless the object is set to collide with them, they ignore it.”

“That’s good news for us,” said Edimar. “We’re moving in the same direction as it is alongside the starship’s trajectory. We’re not on a collision course. When it passes us, it should ignore us.”

“Unless it’s blasting every ship in sight,” said Bahzim. “Just because it didn’t blow up a bunch of rocks out there, doesn’t mean it won’t gun us. What do we know? Maybe its mission is to destroy every human ship it sees. It didn’t exactly leave the Italians alone, and they weren’t a collision threat, either.”

“We won’t be close to it when it passes,” said Dreo. “We’re moving parallel to its trajectory but at a great distance. It’s never fired on anything remotely close to this range.”

“So it will pass us before we reach Weigh Station Four?” asked Concepcion.

“Yes,” said Edimar. “Which obviously means it will pass the weigh station before we reach the station, though not by much.”

Concepcion turned to Segundo. “Any luck with the radio?”

They had been trying for weeks to contact the weigh station, but without any success.

“Radio’s only working for short distances,” said Segundo. “We’ve been sending out messages to the station, but all we hear back is static. There’s a lot of interference.”

“Maybe the hormigas are scrambling radio,” said Bahzim.

Segundo shrugged. “Who’s to say they even know what radio is? They may have another communication system entirely. Or the problem might be the radiation their ship is emitting. Maybe that’s disrupting transmissions somehow. Even at this distance. I don’t know.”

“So the station still doesn’t know the ship is coming?” asked Bahzim.

“Not unless they’ve detected it themselves,” said Segundo. “Which is possible, but I doubt it. It’s not heading directly for them-it will miss them by a hundred thousand kilometers-so their computers probably won’t alert them. And you know the guys they have manning the control room. They’re overworked dockworkers, picking up overtime. They’re not experts like Toron or Edimar. If it’s not a collision threat, what do they care? If I had to guess, I’d say the station is completely unaware.”

“The upside,” said Dreo, “is that based on the hormiga ship’s prior behavior, it will probably leave the weigh station alone and move right on by. We’ll get there a day later, and we can use their laserline then.”

Concepcion leaned forward, staring down at the starship in the holospace. “For the sake of everyone on board that station, I pray to God you’re right.”

Podolski was hiding in a small rented room adjacent to a noodle shop on Weigh Station Four when the authorities found him. They kicked in the door after Podolski didn’t answer it, and he cowered to the back corner of the room. He could tell at once that they weren’t real police officials. They were rough men, dressed like the men Chubs and the ship’s crew had killed at the docking tunnel before rocketing away and leaving Podolski here, stranded.

“Hello there,” said the big man in the front. He had a European accent Podolski couldn’t place. “You’re a tough bird to find, friend. I had to ask three different people before we tracked you down.” He laughed. “That was a joke, friend. Come on now. No need for tears. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

Podolski wiped at his eyes. Was he crying? He hadn’t noticed. He wondered where Mangler and Wain were. They were supposed to be protecting him. They were supposed to be right outside.

“Who are you?” said Podolski.

“You might say we’re the keepers of the peace around here,” the man said. “And seeing as how there’s been a disruption in the peace recently, our first question is: Who are the new people on the station? Maybe they have some information on this. You follow me? Logical detective work.”

“I don’t know anything,” said Podolski.

The man smiled. “Now, now, friend. Don’t cut yourself so short. You know lots of things I’m sure. Like your name for instance. You know that much, don’t you?”

“Gunther Podolski.”

“Podolski,” repeated the man, smiling. “You see? You do have information. Now, what ship did you come in on?”

“Where are my friends?” asked Podolski, finding his courage now. “The ones who were outside.”

The big man tried to hide his annoyance. “Your friends are being cooperative, Podolski. We’re asking them questions, and they’re happy to answer them. You should answer them, too. It’ll make it easier for everyone.”

Podolski said nothing.

The big man eyed Podolski’s bag anchored to the table and opened it. Inside were various holopads and equipment for accessing and wiping El Cavador. The big man whistled. “You’re not packing light, are you Mr. Podolski? These are some fancy machines, all so shiny and new. If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was corporate gear.”

Podolski said nothing.

“I won’t lie to you, Mr. Podolski, this is bad news for you.” He held up the bag. “This is incriminating evidence. One of the honorable entrepreneurs of this weigh station was robbed and murdered two days ago along with several of his employees, and this bag makes you a prime suspect. Personally, I didn’t much care for the man, but he was one of our citizens, and more importantly, he owed me a good deal of money. Then suddenly I find you, Mr. Podolski, a stranger with all this equipment for robbing people.”

“That’s not what it’s for,” said Podolski.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Got other plans, do you? Enlighten me.”

Podolski said nothing.

The big man sighed. “You’re not being cooperative, Mr. Podolski. I’m no lawyer, but that makes you look guilty.” He took a step closer. “Now if you have Mr. Staggar’s money, this could all be resolved rather easily.”

“I don’t have his money,” said Podolski. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

The man smiled. “You may not know his name, but you know the man. I’ll refresh your memory. Dead guy. Docking tunnel. Ugly as a rock, probably from getting hit in the face over the years for being obstinate just like you.”

The man’s hand was suddenly around Podolski’s neck, squeezing. Podolski gagged. His windpipe felt crushed. The man’s fingernails dug into Podolski’s skin.

“These aren’t difficult questions, Mr. Podolski. I’m trying to be reasonable, and you’re not meeting me halfway. So I’ll be clearer for your sake. You give me whatever cash you took from Mr. Staggar, and I’ll do a poor job with the paperwork and forget you and I shared words. That strikes me as a reasonable proposition. What do you say?”