for an interesting night sky, I bet.”
“Looks like our drone will pass the
large moon pretty closely,” observed Ensign Roe over shipcom, still forward in
CrewRec.
“Yes,” agreed Lieutenant Finch,
“Just by luck, we should get pretty good mineral readouts on the first pass.”
The drone’s extra kick from the railgun had carried it almost 250,000
kilometers ahead of the Arvida-Yee , which would put it over the planet
first, then over the largest moon about as the Survey ship passed high above
the northern hemisphere of the planet.
The next fifty minutes unscrolled
like a travelogue. Details of solar luminance, spectra, sunspot activity
competed with the spectacular views from the main scope as they passed through
the heart of the system. Solar prominences flared majestic around the star; a
wind of particles swept through the inner system causing aurorae at both poles
of the nearer gas giant planet; asteroids danced their age-old dance; and
ahead, growing larger and more distinct with every passing minute, shimmered the
planet – their planet, as Kirrah now thought of it.
“Hey, Cap, aren’t we going to get a
closer look?” asked Lieutenant Foley. At this speed and heading, they would
pass far above the planet and be back in deep space in a few more hours.
“Hoping for some LGM’s to study?”
jibed Jerry Sykes’ soft voice, also over the shipcom. “Another ‘lost colony’ to
trade beads and write theses about?” Angela Foley’s love of exploration, and
somewhat romantic interpretation of the presence of a half-dozen primitive but very
human races discovered in this direction, occasionally led to good-natured
kidding from some of the harder-edged crewmembers, whose duties were
circumscribed by physics rather than anthropology.
“All right, Angela. Any more Kruss
in the system have had plenty of time to react to our engagement back there.
Let’s take a look. But first, Guns, I want a mailtube released on deadman
protocol, 200-hour delay, totally passive and ballistic, full sensor download.
We can take chances, people, but not with what we’ve found. Report on launch.
Helm, stand by, no action ‘til launch.”
“Aye, Sir,” said Sammy Lee at the
weapons board. “Setting it up… ballistic for 200 hours at 0.2c, that would put
it out at… two hundred eighty-nine AU before activation.”
“Helm standing by,” said Lieutenant
Roehl. God, how paranoid is the Captain, anyway? …oh yeah, just as
paranoid as he should be. I forget sometimes, he carries the whole caravan .
Another minute passed.
Thunk-clunk . “Mailtube
away!” sang Sammy.
“Ok, Helm, let’s see what we’ve
got. Activate Tubedrive, bring us in to a planetary diameter over the north
pole, a nice round orbit, and we’ll make a few maps.”
“Aye, Cap, lighting drive!” Kirrah
was sure the big smile on her face would show in her voice, which was becoming,
she realized, part of the permanent record which future colonists would no
doubt place in their central library.
“Eyes, what’s the preliminary
mineral survey on that large moon?”
“Ummm, pending, Cap,” said
Lieutenant Finch from her position at the main sensor board. “The drone is just
passing it now, I’ll have data for you as soon as we unTube over …the planet.” That
little verbal hesitation , thought Kirrah – we, well, actually Captain
Leitch, but we, this crew, gets to name this entire planet! She reactivated
the Tubedrive for the first time in hours, swung the small ship into proper
alignment, engaged drive, and they plunged back into the warm dark of Tubespace
for the count of four heartbeats. Then, like a bubble popping, the Siderial
universe burst back onto their sensors.
“On target, orbit achieved in one,
Cap!”
“Damn, we’re good!” said Captain
Leitch, smiling at her, and drinking in the crew’s sheer joy at being alive.
What a glorious sight! The planet
lay beneath them, filling a quarter of their sky. Hard white snow and