Earth unaware

CHAPTER 5

Benyawe

Lem was in his office with the lights out, watching a holo simulation of asteroid 2002GJ166 being hit with the glaser. It was a simple holo sim. Only ten seconds long. But the engineers who had put it together had spent three days building it. Every detail of the asteroid had been meticulously re-created. The engineers had even gone so far as to painstakingly re-create the mineshaft the free miners had cut into the rock. In all aspects it was identical to the real thing, albeit a thousand times smaller. At first, nothing happened. Then, as the glaser hit it, the asteroid exploded, sending thousands of rock fragments shooting outward in every direction like a giant growing sphere of gravel. Soon the pieces of the sphere became so far apart that the sphere lost any semblance of shape and all that was left was empty space. The holo sim winked out. Lem turned to Dr. Dublin and Dr. Benyawe, who were standing beside his desk patiently waiting for his reaction. “It’s completely obliterated,” said Lem. “How am I supposed to mine an obliterated asteroid?”

The Makarhu was less than a day away from the real asteroid. Chubs’s “Red Light Green Light” approach had worked flawlessly for nine days. El Cavador was oblivious. The free miners had shown no sign of knowing another ship was approaching their position. No threatening radio messages, no warning shots, nothing. Either they were exceptionally good at playing dumb, or they were in for the surprise of their life.

Now, however, the engineers were telling Lem through a holo sim that it didn’t matter anyway, because the glaser was going to annihilate the asteroid and leave them empty-handed. “This is unacceptable,” said Lem. “There’s nothing left of the asteroid.”

“Our math could be off,” said Dublin. “We’ve never fired the glaser at an object this big before. The simulation only runs the data we give it, and we don’t have a lot of data. Much of this is conjecture.”

“Then what’s the point of building a simulation?” said Lem. “You’re showing me what might happen? I can do that myself. I have a pretty decent imagination. Forgive me for being blunt, Dr. Dublin, but guesswork doesn’t help us here. I need facts. What you’re showing me are half facts. And to be perfectly honest, not the half facts I want to see. The glaser is a mining tool. We’re in the business of extracting minerals. What you’re showing me is skeet shooting. I don’t care if you blow up the asteroid, but sending millions of pieces hurtling away in every direction is not going to work. Miners can’t chase down rock fragments all day. The glaser is supposed to expedite the mining process, not complicate it. I can tolerate this reaction with pebbles, but not with big rocks. That isn’t what the Board had in mind.”

“You don’t want guesswork, Lem,” said Benyawe, “but guesswork is mostly what we have. We haven’t done enough field tests to predict with a high degree of accuracy what exactly is going to happen. That is why the mission was designed the way it was, with us conducting many tests using gradually larger asteroids.”

Lem shook his head. “The original plan is gone. We’re seven weeks behind schedule. We have a new plan now, one we’ve been following for nine days. I agree that our original plan is the ideal, but circumstances have changed.”

“Then all we can show you are possibilities,” said Benyawe, “nothing definitive. We won’t know that until we blast the real thing. We can try to minimize the gravity field more, and that might lessen the explosion, but we cannot predict how far the field will spread.”

Lem rubbed his eyes, exhausted. It hadn’t been a very pleasant nine days. And another round of “data talk” with the engineers wasn’t helping. Part of the problem was the lighting-or rather, the lack thereof. Per Chubs’s instructions, Lem had ordered the ship to “go dark” when they had set out for the asteroid. This meant turning off all exterior and most interior lights in order to remain invisible from El Cavador’s light-sensitive sky scanner. Lem had expected this to be a challenge. Moving around the ship in near darkness would take some getting used to. What he hadn’t anticipated was how the lack of light had put everyone in an irritated, cheerless mood. Normally Lem could move through the halls of the ship and hear laughter and friendly conversation. These days the halls were as silent as they were dark.

Even more annoying was the constant stopping and starting of the ship. To sneak up undetected, the Makarhu remained motionless when they were exposed to El Cavador’s side of the asteroid, then the ship rushed forward whenever El Cavador was on the far side. Stopping. Starting. Stopping. Starting. It made sleep next to impossible, and Lem’s body felt anxious and fatigued because of it.

“You’re right,” said Lem. “I’m asking for the impossible. I’m asking you to tell me what will happen without allowing you to gather the data to formulate an answer. That’s not fair. I realize that. But we are at the eleventh hour, and we have one shot at this. I’m only asking that we do all we can to make that one shot work.”

Dublin began gathering his things. “We’ll see what we can do, Mr. Jukes.”

“I have full confidence in you,” said Lem.

Dublin launched himself toward the exit, but Benyawe stayed behind.

“May I have a word, Lem?” she asked.

“You may have a hundred, Dr. Benyawe. It will keep me awake.”

“I have remained silent on this issue since we set out for this asteroid,” said Benyawe, “but if I don’t say something now, before we get there, I’ll be disappointed in myself.”

Lem knew where this was going. As he had expected, the decision to bump the free miners was unpopular with the engineers. Their world was black or white. An experiment failed or it didn’t. Data was right or it wasn’t. The prototype worked or it didn’t. The idea of a gray area, wherein it was acceptable under certain circumstances to take a dig site by force, was hard for an engineer to swallow. They all knew that Juke Limited was involved in unsavory business practices, but it was much easier to turn a blind eye to such things from the safe and cozy rooms of one’s lab back on Luna. Out here in the deep of space, the hard truth of it stared you in the face.

Lem held up a hand. “If you’re going to tell me you think bumping these free miners is morally wrong, save your breath. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. It’s cheating, basically. And bullying. Not to mention extremely dangerous.”

“Then why are we doing it?”

“Because the alternative is an eight-month round-trip. If we go that far, we will seriously deplete our fuel supplies. Plus we have no guarantee that the farther asteroid will be any more vacant than this one. Who’s to say there isn’t a whole fleet of free miners moored to the other asteroid?”

“Those aren’t our only options,” said Benyawe. “We could proceed with the mission as planned. It’s not too late for that. We look for more pebbles of gradually greater size and adjust the glaser as we go along. Free miners don’t touch pebbles. This would be a nonissue.”

“We have to do a big asteroid anyway,” said Lem. “All we’re doing is jumping ahead. It’s unfortunate that we have to vacate the free miners, but that is the world we’re living in now. Chubs assures me that we can do this with minimal structural damage to their ship and without harming any of their crew.”

“It’s not right. We’re taking what’s theirs.”

“Technically, Doctor, it isn’t theirs. They have no deed. No right to ownership. That rock is ours as much as it is theirs. Just ask STASA.”

Lem wasn’t exactly sure he was right. The Space Trade and Security Authority, the international organization that provided oversight for the space-mining industry, might actually side with Benyawe on this one. But if Lem didn’t know the minutiae of such policies, he was fairly confident Benyawe wouldn’t, either. If he sounded sure of himself, she wouldn’t argue.

“But they got there first,” said Benyawe. “That has to account for something.”

“It has accounted for something. They’ve mined two quickships of metal. We’re not leaving them destitute, Doctor. Considering how much they’ve pulled out of their mineshaft, they’re probably at the end of their dig anyway. We’re just sending them off prematurely.”

She smiled reproachfully. “We don’t know if they’re at the end of their dig, Lem. That’s baseless speculation just to help us sleep at night.”

“You’re right,” said Lem. “But that doesn’t change our situation. Unless another large asteroid pops into existence in the next few hours, we’re going through with this.”

“Then I’d like it noted in the ship’s official records that I object to this action.”

That surprised Lem. “You feel that strongly?”

“I do. And I’m not the only one. A lot of the engineers are uneasy about this, not only because it feels like stealing but also because they fear for their lives. What if these free miners are better defended and better equipped than we think? We’re scientists, Lem, not soldiers.”

“I assure you, Doctor, bumping a bunch of pebble eaters is the safest thing in the world.”

“Please don’t use that term. I find it offensive. They’re human beings.”

“Pebble eaters. Rock suckers. Ash trash. Dig dogs. Mine mites. Scavengers. These words exist, Dr. Benyawe, because these kind of people live a less-than-civilized lifestyle. They marry their sisters. They’re completely uneducated. Their children never learn to walk. Their legs are just bone and sinew because they never develop them. It’s as if they’re becoming a different species altogether.”

“You’re talking about isolated incidents. Not all of them are like that. Most of them are quite innovative.”

“Have you watched the exposes, Doctor? Have you seen the documentaries on these people? It’s enough to turn your stomach.”

“Sensationalism, Lem. You know that. The vast majority of free miners are intelligent, hardworking families who love their children and obey space law. By bumping them we’re taking away a family’s livelihood.”

“And ensuring our own. This is the world we live in now, Doctor. We’re not in a lab on Luna anymore. This is the frontier. Out here it’s not all squeaky clean. Do we allow ourselves to fail so that a group of free miners can tap an asteroid for everything it’s got? No, we don’t. We take it. Do I like that option? No, but it’s nothing these free miners haven’t seen before. This is their world. In all likelihood, they bump ships too. Who’s to say they didn’t bump somebody off this rock to take it for themselves?”

“More baseless speculation.”

“I’m painting a picture here, Benyawe. I’m reminding you that the rules are different out here in the Deep. I don’t like it any more than you do. These free miners have an obligation to their family, yes, but we have an obligation as well.”

Benyawe frowned. “To the Board, you mean? To our stockholders? Seriously, Lem. You can’t compare that to family.”

“Just because these people are related to each other doesn’t make their cause any nobler than ours. They’ve got two quickships of metal from this rock. They’re going to be fine.”

Lem’s holodisplay chimed, and a message-acceptance request appeared. Lem waved his hand through the holospace, and Chubs’s head appeared.

“We’ve got an issue, Lem,” said Chubs. “Bumping this ship is going to be trickier than we thought. Can you come to the helm?”

Lem left his office immediately. He didn’t want Benyawe tagging along, but she either didn’t get the cues from his body language or she chose to ignore them completely. Either way, she followed him down the hall to the push tube. Before climbing inside, Lem faced her. “If you write up a formal objection,” he said, “I will sign it and put it on record in the ship’s computers. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business on the helm.”

“I’d like to come along,” she said.

It was a bad idea. Engineers never came to the helm, and this wasn’t a good time to start, especially knowing how opposed she was to the bump. “This isn’t a matter for the engineers,” said Lem.

“I’m not just an engineer, Lem. I’m the director of Special Operations, an appointment you gave me. I’d say bumping a ship clearly qualifies as a special operation.”

Lem suddenly understood why Father would put a man like Dublin in charge of engineers. The Dublins of the world never questioned you. If they disagreed with superiors, they zipped their lips and towed the line. That didn’t make them better leaders, per se, but it certainly made Lem’s and Father’s jobs easier. Benyawe was another breed entirely. Staying silent was not in her DNA. But wasn’t that why he had promoted her in the first place? He wanted straight counsel.

“You can come,” said Lem. “But I can’t have you arguing with me at the helm.”

“I don’t argue,” said Benyawe.

“You’re arguing with me now.”

“I’m strongly disagreeing. There’s a difference.”

“Fine. Don’t strongly disagree with me then. My point is, on the helm I am the commanding officer. You can ask questions. You can make observations. But if you take issue with anything I say, keep it to yourself until we’re alone.”

“Fair enough.”

Chubs was waiting for them at the systems chart. The map had been replaced with a large holo of El Cavador. It was nothing like the original holo Lem had seen of the ship-that had been a 3-D rendering the computer had on file for the specific make and model of ship. This was the real thing. The Makarhu was now close enough to the asteroid to take high-res scans of the free-miner ship, and Lem couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“It looks like a tank,” he said.

“We’ve been running scans through the computers all morning,” said Chubs. “I’ve never seen anything like it, not on a free-miner ship, anyway. They’ve got armored plates welded all over the surface. Plus I’ve never seen this much proprietary tech on a single ship. See these protrusions here, here, and here. That’s tech.”

“What kind of tech?” asked Lem.

“We don’t know,” said Chubs. “These boxes here could be pebble-killers. Our computers can’t make heads or tails of it. Most of it looks like it’s built from scrap. The computers keep recognizing individual pieces from machines, but since the pieces are all used together in odd combinations, we have no idea what the tech is really for. Whoever these people are, they’re either certifiably insane or genius innovators.”

“I’d rather they be insane,” said Lem.

“Makes two of us,” said Chubs. “I don’t like them having machines we can’t understand. Makes me nervous. And that’s not the worst of it.” He glanced uneasily at Benyawe.

“It’s okay,” said Lem. “She’s here at my invitation.” Lem smiled to Benyawe, appearing nonchalant, though in truth he felt a little panicked. El Cavador looked tougher than he had anticipated. He shouldn’t have brought Benyawe.

Chubs turned to the systems chart and tapped a command. A dozen cables stretching from El Cavador down to the surface of the asteroid suddenly glowed yellow. “Here’s the bad news. They have twelve mooring lines anchoring them to the asteroid. That’s three times more lines than normal.”

“Meaning what?” asked Lem. “They’ve seen us? They’re adding more lines to hunker down?”

“No way,” said Chubs. “You don’t keep that much cable lying around. This has to be how they anchor all the time.”

“Maybe they’ve been bumped before,” said Benyawe. “And now they lay down more lines to discourage anyone from trying again.”

“My assumption as well,” said Chubs. “From the looks of their ship and the number of anchor lines, I’d say these people have seen their share of pirates and claim jumpers.”

“And corporates,” said Benyawe.

Lem shot her a look, but she was facing the holo and didn’t meet his eye.

“The other thing that bothers me is all the activity we’ve detected outside their ship,” said Chubs.

“What kind of activity?” asked Lem.

“Spacewalks. And lots of them. Some to lay down more hull armor. Some to work on their collision-avoidance system. They’ve been very, very active. We haven’t seen more than three or four guys out at a time. But it’s like they know a war is coming.”

“They’ve obviously detected us,” said Lem. “They’re building defenses for our attack.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Chubs. “It’s only three or four guys out there. If they were in prebattle panic mode, they’d have a whole crew out. They’d put every available man behind an effort like that.”

“Maybe that is every available man,” said Benyawe. “Maybe only three or four people are left. Maybe they had an outbreak or something. It’s happened with free miners before.”

“But they do have other people,” said Chubs. “We’ve seen them. While these three guys are strengthening the ship, they’ve got thirty guys working the mine. It’s basically life as usual.”

Lem shrugged. “It’s not that strange if you think about it. They’ve seen us coming, and they’re trying to mine as much as they can before we get there. That’s what I would do.”

“The other possibility,” said Benyawe, “is that they don’t know we’re coming, and strengthening the ship is simply what these three or four guys do. That’s their job. They’re simply going about their business. You could argue that the state of the ship substantiates that idea. It’s well defended. It doesn’t get that way overnight. You can see scorch marks and dents all along their armor, which would suggest that the armor has been there a long time.”

“Maybe,” said Chubs. “It could also mean the armor plates were scorched when they applied them.”

“Not likely,” said Benyawe. “Some of these dents and marks stretch across multiple plates. This is a ship that’s seen action, which brings up another possibility. Maybe they’re not preparing for war with us. Maybe they’ve got a feud with another family, or there’s a ship of thieves in the area.”

“There’s no one else in the area,” said Chubs.

Benyawe shrugged. “So maybe they’re prepping to set out on a six-month journey at the end of which is their enemy. Who knows?”

“I’ve had enough guesswork for one day,” said Lem. “I want answers. How does this affect the bump? Are we a go or not?”

“The mooring cables are the biggest problem,” said Chubs. “That’s a lot of lines. We can’t bump the ship unless every one of those lines is severed. We could cut them with the lasers, but it would be tedious work. It would take way too long. Bumps need to happen fast. Two minutes at the most. Gives them less of a chance to retaliate. I suggest cutting the cables a different way.”

“How?” Lem asked.

Chubs tapped more commands into the system chart, and the holo of El Cavador winked out. A holo of the asteroid took its place, with El Cavador now a small ship moored to the surface. “We’ll land over here,” said Chubs. “On the blind side.”

Lem watched the holo as the Makarhu approached the opposite side of the asteroid and landed at a spot just below what would be El Cavador’s horizon line, hiding the Makarhu from view yet keeping it within striking distance.

“They still haven’t seen us at this point,” said Chubs. “We wait here until four hours into their sleep schedule, when everyone is good and gone to dreamland. Then we send in twelve breakers.”

The breaker bots were small, disc-shaped explosive drones. Corporates used them for mining, sending them down narrow mineshafts to break up large chunks of rock for extraction.

“There’s a ridgeline here,” said Chubs, highlighting the feature on the asteroid. “It runs from our landing site to within a hundred yards of El Cavador. We can take a shuttle out along the ridgeline without them seeing us. The shuttle stops here at the edge of open ground. We throw the breakers from there. Our pilot steers each one to a different mooring line. The bots attach to the lines, then we detonate them all at once. That’s when the attack begins. Once the lines are cut, we come forward with the ship and take out their pebble-killers and their power with our lasers. It’s over at that point. We can brush them aside easy as anything. Ninety seconds tops.”

Lem stared at the holo a moment. “Throwing the breakers? You can send them that far with that much accuracy?”

“The breakers have mini cams. We have a very good pilot. He can steer them pretty much wherever you want them.”

“Won’t El Cavador detect the movement?” asked Lem. “Won’t they see the breakers coming?”

“Their collision-avoidance system doesn’t monitor the surface of the asteroid. It can’t. They’ve got miners walking around the surface all day. Believe me, it’s the last place they would look for an attack.”

Lem didn’t like it. This was supposed to be a clean operation. They would swoop in, zap a few devices on the hull, push the ship aside, and be done with it. Simple. Nothing with breakers. No explosions. No creeping up in a shuttle. This was far more variables than Lem had intended.

One of the crewmen launched from his workstation and landed near Lem.

“They’re rotating away, sir,” said the crewman. “We can accelerate as soon as you’re ready.”

This would be the last push forward. They were close now. They would land on the rock within a few hours. Lem turned to Benyawe. Her face was a mask. She seemed poised, but he knew she was angry. She’d hate this new development more than he did.

“What’s the word, Lem?” said Chubs. “We can cut bait now and scoot away if you’d like. Otherwise we need to punch it. We have a brief window here.”

Nine days, thought Lem. They had come nine days. The rock was right there in front of them. What would you do, Father? Go off and shoot some more pebbles? Fly eight months to a different asteroid? Or knock these gravel suckers off the rock? Lem could almost feel Father here beside him, looking over his shoulder, shaking his head in disgust, oozing disappointment. “Why do you even have to think this one through, Lem?” Father would say. “Are you a Jukes or are you a child?”

Lem turned to Chubs. “Put us on the rock.”