Freedom's Ransom Part 8

Zainal merely widened his eyes at Chuck until Chuck gave a pantomime of a rope being thrown. Zainal snorted. 'It is easier to match velocities and park in front of it.'

'Snare it in the hatch?' McColl asked, astonished. He whistled. 'That will take some piloting.'

Zainal regarded him steadily. 'I am accustomed to doing such things.'

'Wasn't even suggesting you aren't a top-flight pilot, Zainal,' McColl replied quickly. 'But I do want to see you play catch.' He grinned to mitigate any slur on his abilities.

'And so you shall,' Zainal said. 'Chuck, bring that net up to Number One Hatch.' He settled himself down at the control panel to do the necessary placement and picked a comm sat that had had both 'ears' blown off and much of its impressive span of solar panels cut off short. While he had said it was 'merely' a job of matching velocities, it required very careful 'puffs' of his thrusters to slow the KDM down and introduce a rate of closure with the satellite of about one-quarter to one-half metre per second.

'How are you going to intercept that much ma.s.s at that rate, Zainal?' Kathy asked.

'I do have to allow for momentum, velocity plus ma.s.s, but it shouldn't be too high for the mesh to handle if it's standard Catteni issue. As for the KDM, the winches are built much heavier than that. Chuck, have you got the net in the cargo hold?'

'Gimme a few, Zainal,' Chuck said, obviously puffing from physical exertion. 'Had to stuff it on a lift platform. Unhandy thing.'

'Steel mesh?'

'Yup, standard Catteni issue.'

'That's what we need,' Zainal said, feeling more confident about all this. Kris gave him a look, implying that he was what she called 'showing off but what he called 'proving' his skill as a pilot. 'It'll also discharge the static on the comm sat in s.p.a.ce instead of in the cargo hold.'

'Zainal, got it in place against the hatch. We're getting back to the lock. Ah, now, we're all safe. Ready when you are. The net's rigged to go.'

'Grab hold, crew, I've got to go weightless.' He snapped off the ship's gravity, then opened the hatch and watched while first a bulge of the net cleared the starboard side of the KDM, and then the rest followed, ballooning into s.p.a.ce but still tethered to the vessel. 'Parking' the KDM in front of the object he wished to capture, he 'puffed' the thrusters just enough to catch the rectangular comm sat in the mesh. There was an almighty flash as the steel mesh encountered the comm sat and discharged static.

Mpatane floated at a porthole, watching the mesh close around the satellite. Suddenly she was blinded by a burst of light, and she clenched her eyes shut.

'What was that? Looked almost like lightning,' she exclaimed.

'What you saw was the voltage potential on the satellite equalizing. Visible here, too,' Chuck explained. 'Those things can build up quite a charge sitting there, what with all those solar storms and relativistic electron flux bombarding them all the time. It's a good thing we didn't send someone out on EVA! That would have been nasty.'

Zainal grunted, as if dismissing the prospect of danger.

'Wow!' Kathy exclaimed, blinking against the sudden blue-white glare.

'Neat fireworks,' Ferris said, awed.

Watching carefully on his starboard screens, Zainal saw the net tighten around its catch and slowly be reeled back to the ship. With a deft hand on his thrusters, he edged the ship so that the netted comm satellite entered the hatch.

'Mitford, make sure you get the satellite on the floor of the hold as closely as you can,' Zainal said. 'I don't want it smashing our deck plates when I turn the gravity back on.'

'Will do. I'll need a minute or two. Got to repressurize the hold and whatnot.'

'Take your time,' Zainal replied, the model of Catteni patience.

After a few minutes of silence, Chuck said, 'Zainal, this thing's unwieldy as h.e.l.l. Can you push the ship up so it will drift towards the floor?'

'Get clear, and make sure there's nothing between it and the cargo flooring.'

After two quick puffs of the thrusters, a dull and satisfying thud echoed through the ship.

'We've got it now, Zainal, thanks,' was Chuck's enthusiastic reply. 'Wait one while we get it braced with something... Okay... good to go now.'

'The KDM,' Zainal murmured to Kathy, 'is a workhorse but you can get it to do more than just haul stuff from one planet to another.'

'To be honest, Zay,' Gino Marrucci said, and he'd already flown KDMs between Earth and Botany, 'I didn't believe you could do that with this.'

'Can we see what we snared?' Mpatane asked. 'I've only seen pictures of the comm sats before they were launched. Never one on site, so to speak.'

'Crew, gravity's coming on. Three, two, one.' Zainal flicked the toggle to the 'on' position. 'Mitford, secure the hatch. Don't want that thing rolling out on us.'

'Couldn't roll if it wanted to, Zainal. It's too heavy. And besides, it's square blocks stuck together, not a ball.'

Those in the lock with Chuck were busy examining the catch before Zainal, Gino and Kathy Harvey arrived.

'Hey, it's a Boeing 601. We can mount just about anything on this baby. Some of the parts for these things are on that wish list,' Mpatane said with respectful delight.

'Can we service it then?'

'If we had the parts, we could,' Mpatane said, circling the unit, putting her fingers through the holes some target practice had made in the 'ear' and sighing for the blatant vandalism. 'I wonder how many more fell to some Catteni's notion of fun. Ooops, sorry, Zainal.'

'Not to worry, Mpatane. But it can be serviced?'

'If we can find the spare parts, sure. I don't notice any holes in the mission package or the control units, but you did keep a record of its...o...b..t, didn't you, Zainal?'

'Yes, it's logged. So all we need to do is repair it and put it back in s.p.a.ce.'

'We'll have our work cut out for us,' Mpatane said with a heavy sigh. 'This one is one of many, you know. Do we get to do them all?' She c.o.c.ked her head impudently at Zainal.

'As many as we have to to extend the working footprint needed to ensure worldwide communications. We'll need some sort of conference with someone down there to figure out how many satellites will be required to make a big enough footprint.'

She exhaled over the enormity of the task.

'Well, it's a job,' she said with such resignation that everyone chuckled in semi-agreement, semi-sympathy.

'Check the unit over, will you, Mpat, and see what else has been damaged. I'm hoping we can just unscrew, detach and/or replace faulty parts.'

'Plug in and go,' Gino said, pushing a triumphant fist in the air.

'Now, crew, lash it down so when we enter Earth's atmosphere, it doesn't buck its way about the hatch,' was Zainal's final remark as he turned to go back to the c.o.c.kpit.

Part of the inbound journey was then occupied by a full examination of the comm sat by the communications experts, with an emphasis on how to replace damaged solar vanes and restore power to the damaged equipment. They kept a list of the deployment of those that they thought they could repair. IF they had the spare parts.

'I never imagined we had so much orbiting the planet,' Kris said that night in the mess hall as she served the a.s.sembled crew.

'Junk, a lot of it,' Harvey said with understandable contempt. 'Too far out to be burned up in the atmosphere...'

'Raining hot metal down on unsuspecting folk,' Gail said. 'It did happen, you know. Australia got quite irate over some instances.'

'I thought Australia was spa.r.s.ely populated outside of the major cities.'

'There are people and sheep in the outback, as well as Aboriginals who didn't like their turf being pummelled by junk.'

'Expensive junk,' Jax added, 'still makes trouble.'

Chuck came into the c.o.c.kpit then with a sheet of notes in his hand. 'Look, guys, in the category of "once bitten, twice shy", we ought to get contacted soon. Those NORAD boys in the Cheyenne mountains are sharp. Catteni couldn't even budge them.'

'You mean, they have a s.p.a.ce station back up?' Kris said.

'Of course we do,' Kathy said, almost contemptuously. 'First world community project, called Watch Dog, with sensors at about two hundred and fifty kilometres from Earth. No one is ever going to catch Earth unawares again. Only, does anyone know what to say?'

'Of course I do,' Chuck said, clicking his tongue. 'I arranged a code before I came back to Botany. That's why I had a radio put on board. It's all set up. They ought to make contact about now. We are two-five-five thousand klicks from Earth's surface, ain't we?'

It was one minute and forty-two seconds before the radio unit crackled, startling them all even if they were waiting for it.

'This is Watch Dog. What are you doing in our s.p.a.ce?'

'Not very polite,' Zainal murmured.

'To the point, however,' Kathy said, pleased, and eyed Chuck Mitford sternly.

'Botany boys are back, Watch Dog.'

'Oh, the Botany boys, huh?' was the laconic reply.

'You are a green for go, Botany Boy. What's your destination?'

Chuck grinned fatuously around and winked at Kathy.

'Newark Airport.'

'What's your business?'

'Liaison with New Jersey Coord Dan Vitali.' 'Roger that, Botany Boy. Is that Mitford talking?' 'Chuck Mitford, aboard the Botany s.p.a.ceship Baker Alpha Sugar Sugar One.'

'Roger that, Baker Alpha Sugar Sugar One. Who's your crew?'

'Ema.s.si Zainal, pilot, and Captain Kathy Harvey, copilot; Gino Marrucci, radio officer; flight engineer is Lieutenant Mpatane c.u.mmings.'

'You are free to proceed. Will alert Newark Airport and Coord Vitali. Over and out.'

'Over and out - and thanks, Watch Dog.'

'Newark radio frequency is 118.3, Ground Control 121.8 MHz. Out.'

'Roger.'

'Clever Chuck,' Kris said with a sigh of relief. 'I didn't think about possibly getting shot out of the skies.'

'A little late but we learned.'

'Was the International s.p.a.ce Station blown out of the skies?'

'No, like its predecessor, it had a charmed life. It also had no armament when the Catteni came through and was hidden by the planet so it didn't come in for some target practice. Now it's armed and ready.'

Chuck nodded approval.

'Botany boys!' Zainal said with a snort.

'Seemed easy to remember. Newark ain't much, but the airport's one of the few kept manned, and with the KDM being a vertical takeoff and landing ship, no problem to land there. Or anywhere. Newark's also closer to the coordinators we need to talk to.'

'Wouldn't JFK be bigger and better?' Kris asked.

She'd always been impressed by that huge airport.

'No, too far out in Queens, and we ain't got the right contacts there.'

The KDM had reached the atmosphere, and even before Zainal called for a 'safety-belt check, people', all were strapped down. Bazil and Peran occupied the jump seats and were fascinated by the approach to a planet they had heard about but never seen, even in pictures. The KDM nosed into the atmosphere and the bucking started in earnest. Then suddenly it smoothed out and the s.p.a.ceship was running east with the patchwork of the midwestern states pa.s.sing beneath them at incredible speed.

Gino warmed up the radio and got the Newark frequency, then nodded to Zainal. Gino's bright tenor sounded amiably bored as he requested permission for Baker Alpha Sugar Sugar One to use the runway.

'KDM, you're cleared into Newark,' was the calm response. Gino blinked and even Chuck looked surprised at the insouciance of the acknowledgement. 'We have you on radar at...' The voice suddenly was tinged with near panic. 'Jeez! KDM, are you in trouble?'

'No,' Zainal replied, 'all systems are normal., 'Christ, KDM,' Newark Approach responded, and noise of confusion filtered from the background. 'You've dropped ten thousand feet in the last two seconds! You're going to be on top of the airport in - here, I'll patch you to the tower.' In the background, very clearly, could be heard 'Call out the crash trucks. This one's going to auger in!'

'KDM, this is Newark Tower. You are cleared for immediate landing on runway Twenty-two-R. Winds calm at two hundred ten degrees. Your alt.i.tude is - about three thousand. We have you on radar. Say your intentions.'

'I intend to land, if I may. Main engines will engage in a hover at one hundred feet.'

Newark Tower replied, 'Hover? Roger, KDM, you're cleared to land.' Since the operator clearly forgot to unkey his microphone, they could hear him. 'He says he's going to hover that thing. Has anyone ever heard of the Cats hovering? Jeez, duck!'

Right on the mark, the KDM's main engines kicked in and brought the s.p.a.ceship to a hover a neat one hundred feet from the runway. Zainal had Kathy bring the craft down to a mere ten feet before radioing the tower. 'KDM requests parking instructions.'

The tower operator was slow to reply. 'Uh, roger, KDM, you are cleared to taxi to the West Park area. Take any convenient spot and any route you need.'

'Yes, we are taking most direct path to West Park Area.'

The tower contact cleared his throat suddenly. 'Uh, KDM, what's your port of origin? For the record, I gotta clear you. Your port of origin and flight docket?'

'We are inbound from the planet Botany, wishing to make contact with Coordinator Dan Vitali. Do not have a flight docket, whatever that is these days.'

'Inbound from where? Dan Vitali?' Everyone in the cabin could hear the barrage of questions from a number of startled voices in the tower with the operator.

'OhmiG.o.d, get Vitali on the phone. Snap to it. We got I dunno how many tons of s.p.a.ceship hovering above us.'

'h.e.l.l, we ain't Bakersfield or the s.p.a.ce Center. What's he doing in our skies?'

'Trying to land, I think. Watch Dog cleared it with the boss about two hours ago. Code just came in. Have you got Vitali yet? This is - man, like, urgent. No messing.'