Breach
fiction by michael werneburg
2002.07.26
"Mother, please return to the scene of the repository breach at 0.5% subtime. When you arrive, please contact local Corporate personnel. If no instructions are forthcoming, stay out of sight of the Caofsh and at no more than 95% subtime. Follow protocol to ensure a proper clean-up of the sight, then collect Mr. Smooth and the rest of the gear we deployed. Take it back to Virga."
"Yes, Lieutenant," came the response. The sled promptly vanished from site with only a slight flicker of motion and no sound at all.
While she was doing that, Marl and the two men made their way through the tight space and then found themselves in an interior devoid of any creature comforts. There was a row of hard seats along one wall with heavy five-point restraints. The floor and walls were of some hard polished material, and with recessed tie downs. It looked like it was designed to maximize cargo space and to allow ease of sliding heavy objects around the interior and then keep them in place. "It's just like the sled," Hiram noted.
Eisberg was poking about at the ports above each seat. "Confirmed neural jacks," he noted, not sounding enthusiastic.
"Perfect," Xin told him. "Please strap in and shutter your visors for ultraviolet, I'm going to activate the disinfectant."
They all did so. The portal closed and when they were ready Xin had the entire fuselage disinfected with a UV blast and what Marl knew without seeing it would be a purple antimicrobial mist that the ship's system promptly vented out. Marl had read once that the foundation of the antimicrobial active agent had come from ants hundreds of years before. She then felt the ship glide forward.
"Mother, we're already on an intercept course?" Xin asked.
"Correct, Lieutenant. Fifty minutes to intercept."
"Please prepare the immersive instruction media I asked for."
"Already queued."
"Thank you," she told the AI. She then unfastened her helmet and told the others, "Please recharge your air canisters. Your in-flight entertainment will be on the wonders of a mid-air interception."
"Is this as bad as they say?" Hiram asked.
"You have never used an immersive media course?" Eisberg asked, incredulously.
"Never for personal purpose; it's forbidden by the Prohibitions. We can do it in the line of duty, of course."
"Oh, right. My apologies, Ensign."
###
They were traveling at three thousand meters, operating at nominal time and maintaining a speed of seven thousand kilometers an hour. They were hanging immediately below the target aircraft, upside down. Their target was a small personal jet, of the sort that had windows and amenities like comfortable seats. Unlike their XP-38, it was incapable of travel beyond the atmosphere. They had crept up on their prey at 95% subtime and were now practically touching; far too close to be detected by radar.
Eisberg said, "I've got confirmation on the Prince and the subtime field generator. The generator seems to be in good condition, but the Prince has sustained a number of injuries."
"Radiation?" Marl guessed.
"Looks more like he's been assaulted."
"He had it coming," Xin remarked. "Log it, please, Lieutenant."
As the Engineer read the facts into the log, Xin added some finishing touches to their assault plan. Looking up from her console, Marl checked that the men had their helmets on properly and gave them a thumb's up. They both responded in kind. Everyone seemed to be okay with hanging upside down at this elevation and speed. She was proud of them.
"We're go for a botfly maneuver," said Xin. "Ilyana, if you would?"
Marl gripped her console with both hands, and looked everything over one last time. She thumbed the "execute" button and the XP-38 dropped out of subtime with a jolt. Their ship then fired harpoons into the other jet with a crashing jolt, each with a stout cable attached. These then cinched tight so that the other craft was pulled to theirs with a loud bang. The XP-38's lasers then clipped off the wings and tail fins. Explosions from the refined fossil fuels in the severed wings rocked both crafts and tore those wings to pieces. The noise and shaking was intense for a moment, but the XP-38 managed it with care. With the other craft now helplessly dependent on them, they slowed both crafts dramatically and started to descend from the sky. After they were done with the alien jet, Marl intended to set it somewhere on the planet's surface. But for now, Marl was completely engrossed in the effort of the maneuver.
"Now the tricky part," Eisberg told the others. Their jet rolled over, and a loud racket began at toward the front. "We're cutting our way in."
"Is that a saw of some kind!" Hiram called over the din. "Why not lasers?"
"Don't want to risk a fire should they strike something flammable or explosive. We knew the wings held kerosene, like an old-time Terran jet. We don't know for sure what's inside the fuselage."
"And the passengers?" asked Hiram. "They've just been blown up, shaken, and turned upside down."
"We've discussed this," Xin said. "This is potentially going to get violent, you need to be ready."
"I am ready to do my duty!"