Tachyon Web (5 page)

“It sure is a bright bastard,” Strem breathed. “Take us out of here!”

“Strem,” Jeanie whispered.

“In a moment,” Strem said. “Sammy, how are we doing?”

“I’m not sure. But the ship’s hot. Very hot.”

Then they heard a hiss. For an instant Eric thought Cleo had misled them, that she had in fact brought her python.

The hiss was coming from his back, to the left. He cracked one eye and saw nothing but light. Then the sound turned to a screeching whistle, and the bridge was flooded with a gas that looked and felt as if it were lava.

Eric leapt to his feet. “Close the shields!” he yelled again. The shields were external panels that could slip over the windows. They wouldn’t stop the gas, but at least they would block the glare and give them a chance to see and deal with the problem.

The girls started to panic. One of them, Eric couldn’t tell which one, banged into him and he stumbled towards the windows. He fell and struck his head on a pipe, pain flaring from the base of his skull into his neck. With the scalding steam, the skin on his face and hands felt ready to blister. Chemical fumes stuffed his nostrils, irritating his lungs, making him cough.

“We’re losing our coolant!” Sammy shouted.

“Stop it!” Strem shouted back.

“How?” Sammy asked.

Eric pulled himself up and felt his way along the forward window, his arms up and searching. A glimpse outside showed a staggering incandescent shell of violet plasma, stretching away from them in every direction, encircling the nova, and through which
Excalibur
was undoubtedly rushing.

The whine of the graviton drive mixed with the scream of the stream. Eric wondered if Sammy hadn’t confused their direction and wasn’t racing them toward a fiery end. Eric’s fingers found the manual shield control above the rim of the windows and he depressed it firmly. The cry of the escaping coolant soared through the octaves, piercing his ears.

As the shields snapped shut, the bridge should have been visible under the normal lighting conditions. But their eyes had been overdosed on light. A dim blurred gray enveloped the cabin. The boiling gas continued its inhuman ravings for a moment more, then cut off in a frightening silence, leaving them with pounding hearts, ragged breaths. Eric blinked at the swirling mist that thwarted his vision, not knowing if it was the steam or his sizzled irises.

“I have turned our vents to maximum,” Sammy said finally. “The gas should be gone in a minute or two.”

Hazy colored dots peaked out of the gloom. The bridge took on rough dimensions. Eric watched as Strem shuffled slowly toward Jeanie and took her hands. She was crying but getting hold of herself. Cleo lay sprawled on the floor near the hyper drive. Eric realized it had been she he had struck in his rush to the window. He helped her up and she nodded her thanks before launching into a coughing fit.

The ship’s atmosphere was oppressively hot and humid. The coolant odor, however, was diminishing rapidly. Sammy had removed his shirt and was wiping the control console. Eric put a hand at the back of his head and felt a bloody hump. Perhaps two minutes had passed since they had made the jump. It was hard to believe.

“Are we moving?” Eric asked Sammy.

“Yes.” Sammy pressed his face against a foggy screen. “We have point-one-eight the velocity of light away from the nova.” He consulted another indicator beside a flashing red button. “And we no longer have any coolant circulating around our Preeze Cap.”

“Is that what keeps us from overheating?” Cleo asked, her voice exceptionally high and unsteady.

“The Preeze Cap cools the Hial Diffusor,” Sammy explained. “Which in turn cools
Excalibur
’s drives.”

“It’s the same difference,” Eric muttered, feeling unsteady on his feet. “How long can we keep the graviton drive on?”

“Except for the components that generate our protective force field, I’ve already shut it down,” Sammy said. “We have substantial speed. Had I tried for more we might have blown up.”

“But are we still generating excess heat?” Eric asked.

“Yes. Slowly.”

“Couldn’t we turn off the force field and just let all the machinery cool down?” Strem asked.

“This close to the nova,” Sammy replied, “nothing’s going to cool down. And without the field we’d vaporize in a fraction of a second. Even when we get further away we have to keep it up. At our speed a collusion with a stray particle the size of a pea would finish us.”

Eric wiped at the sweat stinging his sore eyes. “Can we make a jump?”

“Not without a coolant for the Preeze Cap,” Sammy said.

Eric was not sure if anyone realized it, but Sammy had pretty much just said they were goners. They would find no coolant this side of The Tachyon Web. His anger quickened. He looked at Strem through the sober light.

“It’s a long story,” Strem said.

“You said
that
at the spaceport,” Eric snapped. “Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to hear it.” His sight continued to improve, to the point where he could see Jeanie’s lips quivering.

“Are we in trouble?” Jeanie whispered.

“Ask your brave boyfriend,” Eric grumbled.

Strem let go of Jeanie and began to pace in front of the closed windows. A cool draft started to blow from the direction of the sleeping quarters.

“Let’s not panic,” Strem said. “We’re still in one piece. Nobody’s been hurt. We have plenty of options.”

He glanced at Sammy, who shrugged, as if to say: don’t ask me to list them. “That we’ve come this far is quite an accomplishment in itself,” Strem continued. “I would think you, Eric, of all people would be impressed.”

Eric didn’t answer. He was thinking that when it came time to ration their food and water, he was taking Strem’s share.

“
Where
are we?” Cleo finally asked. “What’s this about being outside the web? No one can go outside the web.”

“Hull temperature has dropped slightly,” Sammy said.

“Good,” Strem said. “See? Things are looking up already.”

“And there is a growing instability in our force shield,” Sammy added.

“Will it hold?” Eric asked.

“Interesting question,” Sammy murmured.

All eyes turned to Strem. Perspiration had stained the contours of his thick muscles through his shirt, but his foul-up deprived him of the image of strength. He leaned against the covered windows, then jumped back upright, having apparently singed his shoulder blades. So much for the hull temperature dropping.

“As I was saying,” Strem went on, “what we have accomplished will be remembered. We’re the first civilians to get outside the web. We’re––”

“Spare us the historical perspective,” Eric interrupted, moving toward the draft, plopping down on the floor against a wall that was doubling as a frying pan. The fumes were practically gone. He began to believe his eyes might once again work normally.

“Eric, you’re bleeding,” Jeanie said, also having been drawn in the direction of the cool air. She stood above him, pointing to the back of his head.

“Don’t worry, nobody’s been hurt,” he said sarcastically. “Strem, you can start explaining now.”

“It was Sammy’s idea.” He smiled. “That’s a joke.” No one laughed. Strem sighed. “Actually, it was Sammy’s brother who first brought up the possibility. All of you know Lien Balan does technical work for people in high places. He heard about the nova, or I should say, the impending nova. Earth’s astronomers have known for months this star was going to explode – almost to the day of when it was going to happen. Anyway, one evening Lien let Sammy and me in on the discovery. The information was not strictly classified. The Patrol probably hadn’t figured the nova as a military threat. On the other hand, Lien didn’t want us telling others about it. He was talking way above me, and maybe even above Sammy, but we both got the clear impression that the energy put out by the nova would disrupt The Tachyon Web in this sector.”

“Did Lien suggest you try to jump out?” Eric asked.

“Not exactly,” Strem admitted. “For him, it was more of an interesting theoretical possibility.”

“You took us on this insane ride all on the basis of an interesting theoretical possibility?” Eric said.

Strem spoke quickly. “Lien was confident of his calculations. Wasn’t he, Sammy?”

Sammy had his scraggy face tucked inside an opened panel beneath his console. Not less than seven indicators were blinking red alert. “Lien’s always confident of his calculations,” he mumbled.

“Is Lien that guy I met at your house that I thought was an android?” Cleo asked Sammy.

“That was my brother.”

“Does Uncle Dan know about this?” Eric asked.

Strem chuckled. “Are you crazy?”

“You’re the last one who should be allowed to ask that,” Eric said.

“My uncle would risk anything for a buck, but he wouldn’t lay out a cent to satisfy even his curiosity. Sammy and I figured we could get out here, look around for a day or two, and still make the delivery in time.”

“Looks as if the delivery is going to be late,” Eric muttered.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Strem began.

“You don’t!” Eric shot back. “How could you when you obviously didn’t know what
you
were thinking when you planned this disaster? The Preeze Cap is melting as we talk. Sure, we might be able to get far enough out to where we won’t be turned to ash when our force field quits on us, but then what? We can’t make a jump. We’re in the middle of nowhere. How long will our supplies last? Two weeks? A month, at the most? Admit it, Strem, you blew it. For all of us.”

For the first time since he’d known him, Strem had no ready answer. He glanced at Jeanie, for whom the truth was slowly sinking in, then at the floor. Cleo went to stand beside Sammy, who broke from his repair job to share the gloom with them. Minutes went by without words. Suddenly, Jeanie turned and left, reappearing a moment later with a first aid kit. She began to dab at Eric’s bump with a sterilized pad and a stinging solution, crying quietly.

Eric felt a stab of guilt. He’d always thought of himself as the cool one under pressure. Perhaps there were options. He caught Jeanie’s wrist, squeezed it gently, and said, “It’s all right.” Jeanie held his eyes for a second, then nodded and tried to smile. Eric patted her on the side and, taking a deep breath of the still warm air, stood up.

“The vents sucked up the ethylene glycol,” he said. “Where did they put it?”

“The coolant would have been trapped by the atmosphere filtration system,” Sammy replied.

Strem showed signs of life. “I’ll take you to it. Do you think we can reclaim some of the fluid?”

“Let’s see,” Eric said.

Strem led him into the cargo bay. Eric was surprised with its size, even with the crowding cartons of opants. The air was cooler here, of both tension and temperature. Soft yellow light spilled from the ceiling. Eric’s head began to clear. As Strem led him along a narrow corridor made up of stacked boxes, Eric stopped him.

“You should have told us,” he said.

Strem nodded, properly chastised, “I know.”

“Our chances are lousy.”

“I wouldn’t want to bet on them,” Strem agreed.

“But it was a daring idea. It took a lot of imagination.”

Strem’s face brightened. “It was my idea. I thought to myself, how many times do we have a nova go off next to the web? It was a chance I couldn’t pass up. I just wanted my friends with me to enjoy the excitement. Neither Sammy nor I thought we’d come out so close to the blasted star.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“Not intensely.”

The twin man-height filtration barrels attached to the corner of the bay opened easily, and they found the coolant, all forty gallons of it, impregnated in two of the filthiest filters either of them had ever had the displeasure to smell. Apparently, over the last twenty years, Uncle Dan had transported tons of toxic solutions in less than perfectly sealed containers. Plus, Strem added, while traveling, his uncle smoked the nastiest cigars. Whatever had been in
Excalibur
’s air during all those trips was now mixed in with the ethylene glycol.

“Isn’t there some regulation about changing these filters annually?” Eric asked. They were standing on a crate of opants, holding their noses.

“Yes, but I guess it’s not strictly enforced.” Strem replaced the lids. “So what do you think?”

“We have no idea what could be in these barrels that could have dissolved in the coolant. But it doesn’t really matter, in a way. We’re still going to have to try to purify the stuff.”

“What are we going to use to filter it?”

“We’ll find something.”

The girls joined in the search for a suitable material to rid the coolant of the gook. The work provided a positive distraction. Jeanie and Cleo even got the impression, thanks to Strem’s optimistic explanation, that they were practically half way home. They went through everything: bed sheets, carpets, pillows.

Several hours later, the girls finally discovered the key ingredient to their envisioned chemical factory: the inner lining of the opant jackets was made of a silk-like material. When they poured a cup of the polluted coolant through it, the coolant came out the other side a shade less foul. But there were two difficulties. One, the ethylene glycol penetrated the material slowly. A glass of the liquid poured atop the inside of one jacket seeped through at only a couple of drops a minute. Also, when Sammy took a look at the end product, he said there was no way he was putting it near the Preeze Cap. The coolant was going to have to pass through many layers of the material if it was to stand a chance of performing.

Eric decided to go back to the bridge. He left Strem working to siphon the contaminated fluid into pails while the girls hacked dozens of opant jackets to pieces. When he arrived, Eric found Sammy glued to his computers.

“Any new developments?” Eric asked.

Sammy looked up cheerfully. The crisis hadn’t dented his equanimity. Although the cabin temperature had returned to normal, he had yet to put his shirt back on. “I’ve been searching for planets,” he said.

“To hide behind? Wouldn’t we just overheat trying to stop?”