John Sandford - Saturn Run

Meanwhile, the military and political gamers in Beijing were trying to work through the various scenarios confronting the ship.

With the total loss of the external tanks, the Celestial Odyssey ’s delta-vee capabilities were much reduced. With some effort, they could whip up enough to get them a Hohmann transfer to Earth, with a small safety margin for the unexpected. Of which, so far, there’d been no shortage. Just one problem. It would take six years to get back. That wasn’t survivable.

Beijing thought differently, perhaps? Zhang didn’t know for sure.

With more than half the crew gone, the survivors might be able to stretch supplies out considerably longer than otherwise. The Beijing experts politely requested Zhang confirm the situation. Sighing, he set his quartermaster about taking inventory, following orders but knowing that Beijing was thinking about it the wrong way.

The limits weren’t food, air, and water. It was about turning what was to have been a three-year mission into a much longer one. The ship’s designers had considered an extended mission of five or more years, but they hadn’t considered a ship so badly damaged and incapacitated.

Engineering and Environmental thought they could keep them all alive for two and a half more years. Sufficient repairs to the life-support and engineering systems might let the engineers nurse them along for three.

Zhang wasn’t taking any bets on that. So far, the gods he didn’t believe in had not looked favorably upon this mission. So, a four-year mission? Probably. Five? Probably not. Six? Forget it. The vessel that passed by Earth six years from now, seven and a half years after it departed, would be crewed by corpses.

They considered throwing additional velocity at the problem. If the Celestial Odyssey used up all its reaction-mass reserves, they could trim a year off the transit time. Meaning that they’d die two years out from Earth instead of three. Zhang asked Navigation and Beijing to consider more desperate scenarios.

There was one. It almost worked. If they topped off the remaining tanks and burned all their reaction mass leaving Saturn, they could pile on enough extra velocity to drop the transit time to Earth orbit to under two and a half years. That was survivable. The catch was that once they got there they’d have no delta-vee left for matching Earth’s orbit and another ship would have to rescue the crew.

There were a couple of problems with that. First, they’d pass Earth’s orbit moving twelve km/s faster than the earth. Second, the timing was imperfect. Earth would be tens of millions of kilometers away. The only ships that existed that were capable of those kind of delta-vees and long-distance travel were the Celestial Odyssey and the Nixon .

Could the engineers build a rescue ship fast enough to do that? Perhaps: desperation was an excellent motivator.

Zhang had the unpleasant feeling that Beijing wouldn’t mind at all if the Celestial Odyssey and its remaining crew simply disappeared. They’d achieved nothing of value, which made them a political and scientific embarrassment. He did not, of course, voice that opinion to his superiors. He was considerably more candid with his first officer.

“Mr. Cui, what’s your take on Beijing’s plan for getting us home?”

“Well, sir, I think it could work.” Cui Zhuo didn’t say more. She looked acutely uncomfortable under the placid gaze of her commander.

“Acknowledged. Do you think it will work?”

“Sir, may I speak freely? And will this go no further than between the two of us?”

Zhang nodded.

“I don’t believe them. Uh… I’m not saying they’re lying,” she nervously backtracked, “it’s just that it would take some effort to get a rescue ship out to us, and, well, I don’t think we’re Beijing’s most favorite people right now. You in particular. I mean no offense, sir, but many of the crew consider this to be your failure, and they’re people who have worked with you and like you and respect you. I can’t imagine our superiors in Beijing have a higher opinion of you. I think this could start off with the best intentions and if the wrong people decided not to push the project, well, schedules slip. And then where are we?”

Cui looked about the room nervously. It was apparent she was worried that perhaps she had spoken a bit too freely.

“Relax, Zhuo, I share your concerns. I don’t think we can count on Beijing to get us out of this predicament. Amend that: I’m almost certain of it. I think we must turn to the Americans for assistance.”

“Sir? Is that a good idea? Beijing—”

“Zhuo, my time has evidently passed. Your time may or may not arrive, depending on what happens next. Let me suggest something to you. Again, to you only. One of the last things you elicited from Narcy was that the Americans had taken away some memory capsules, with technical specifications for entire alien industries, and, through the I/O port, they’d taken away scientific information that would give a boost of decades in hard science, and who knows how much in soft. Have I expressed this accurately?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So if this ship dies, then Beijing will be left with two options: let the Americans have those industries, or shoot down the Nixon . If they shoot down the Nixon , and I think they might do that, then there might very well be a war. I don’t know what would happen in a war—”

“Sir, I’m sure there are options other than a nuclear war.”

“Of course. Like a trade war. If the Americans put an embargo on Chinese goods, and threatened anyone who traded with us with further sanctions, well, they’d fall into a Depression. But we would fall into something much worse. With a billion people sloshing around the country without food or work… who knows what might happen? I’m sure Beijing has worked through these scenarios. What I’m suggesting is, we request a rescue: actually, we leave them no choice in rescuing us. And we suggest to Beijing that once we are aboard the Nixon , we may have some… mmm… influence on the distribution of the alien information.”

“Sir… you would try to seize their ship? The Americans must have countermeasures.”

“Let’s not look that far ahead, Zhuo. Let’s just say our presence might have some effect on how things work out.” Zhang looked at the time panel on his slate. “Beijing will be waking up. I’m going to go talk to them. About this possibility.”

“Sir, do you want me with you?”

“No. I have other things for you to do. How’s our reaction mass?”

“We’re only about ten percent, on the remaining tanks, sir.”

“Hmm, we’ll need more like fifty percent and we’ll need it soon. Assign everyone we can possibly spare to ice collection and hydrogen refining. Round-the-clock shifts. Also, I need some orbital calculations done that Beijing won’t find out about, depending on how they receive my suggestion. Our navigator, Lieutenant Sun, how does she feel about me?”

“Oh, she almost idolizes you. She’d follow you to the end of the universe. She’s very young.” Cui touched her lips. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“That’s all right, I get your point. In this situation, it will perhaps be a plus. Her service record shows that she’s ambitious. Few yuhanguan rack up so much flight experience so quickly. Landing on the crew of this mission at the age of twenty-eight shows that she’s bright and good at what she does.”

“Sir…”

“A bright, young yuhanguan with ambitions will take risks an older one would not, and what I’m planning will be risky. Send her up, would you? I’ll talk to her as soon as I finish my argument to Beijing.”