Hegemony Resurgent Exodus: Chapter 2

Christa had grown up on earth with a nice home in Long Beach, a brother, and two outspoken, politically active, parents.

After Amaris, she was a 16-year-old orphan, shipped out to Inglesmond with the Runt. Her parents were dead.

That was all anyone would tell her after they were taken away. They were dead.

Why the case worker would be so adamant that there was no reason to ask more sometimes kept her up at night.

And now they were going offworld. Again.

“Sis, when are we getting there?” The Runt whined. Again.

“We’ll be there when we get there!” Christa said. Some of the other kids were laughing. Like they didn’t have brothers and sisters… well okay, some of them didn’t because they were only’s, or for… other reasons.

“Attention passengers, we are now, after a long flight, at your new home, the Haven center for child care.”

Probably because people back on the world don’t want to deal with us.

But then the images came up and they saw the gigantic cylinder, bigger even than the charging station they’d let Christa and the others tour.

“You don’t have to worry about space sickness,” one of the attendants said. “It’s .9 terran G on the inside and .5 in the habitat modules.”

“What are…” Christa stared and then blinked. There were dropships—only they were bigger than any dropship she’d seen. And more. “What are those?”

“Habitat modules.” The man said. “There are 80 docking ports, and 40 of ‘em are habitat modules, up to 4500 per module, not counting the quarters on the habitat.”

180,000?   Christa  ignored the Runt for a moment. How many people are there?  Meanwhile Mike was talking about maybe they were drafting them to become spacers, since he’d heard from a friend who talked to a cousin that LTV had already commissioned five McKenna’s and they just needed the crew… and then he shut up as the ship docked, the clunking of bolts shooting home loud in the sudden silence.

“Right, everyone follow me. If you have younger siblings, keep ‘em with you, and if you’re assigned to watch unaccompanied kids, don’t screw around. This may be civilian ‘safe’ but you’d be surprised about how many safe things can kill you in space.”

Everyone found their place, and Christa grabbed the Runt by his hand, as the man continued. “I’m Able Spacer Gregory Timmis, late of the SLN Nemesis which got killed by those damned Caspers.” He looked at them, and Christa swallowed at the gleam in his artificial eye. “I am the supervisor until you get settled, which means I’m  the one who has to deal with you. Now you will listen to me, as we go over safety precautions, or you can enjoy feeling what it’s like to run out of air while you’re praying for a rescue.”

Christa swallowed, and made certain to listen to him as he showed them were the life balls were stored and how to activate them. They’d be given more drills later, but according to Mr.—Able Spacer Timmis, nobody got onto his deck without learning the basics.

Even the Runt was intimidated.

They followed him down the corridor, their mag shoes hanging on to the deck (one kid had jokingly jumped and it turned out that Able Spacer Timmis had a real good bellow), with a closed off tramline on the other side. According to Timmis, “walking did you good.”

“This is Chicago,” he said. Gesturing at the big airlock doors. “Your habitation module, school and perhaps one day, workcenter. It’s a 100,000 ton station hull with a KF collar adapter so it doesn’t get left behind. Half people, half supplies and facilities, and this is your home. The interior of Haven includes entertainment and exercise, don’t worry, you won’t be cooped up.” He gestured at the gate. “First lesson. Your habitat module is rotating—we aren’t here. What does that mean?”

Christa raised her hand. When he nodded she said in a timid voice. “We’re going to go from no gravity to gravity.”

“Close but not quite. It isn’t gravity—it’s centrifugal force that pretends to be gravity. And that means at the core, there’s no feeling of weight. But as you move further out, you get heavier, and nobody, nobody plays games with running or jumping down—that’s a good way to face plant into a bulkhead and the techs hate cleaning blood off the bulkheads. Now let’s go.”

Christa kept hold of the Runt, and they all walked down. Soon enough, she felt herself start to get heavier. A few kids were acting like they were dizzy and Timmis stopped them.

“One thing you’re gonna pick up—this isn’t real gravity, so you’re spinning, even if you don’t realize it. So if you get dizzy, sit down and wait, if you get nauseous, find a head and puke there. Normally this ends in a few days, but if it keeps up, let Medical know.” As they walked down, Christa found herself puzzled. She’d expected tiny corridors, but they weren’t. And there was a central atrium around a garden.

Then they got to the housing floor, right below the classrooms.

Some of the kids moaned, but Christa didn’t care. She remembered the long trip away from Terra, crammed into tiny little cubicals with nothing to do, not even a noteputer! There was even a little store on the level above, that they were informed would accept ship bucks, some of which they got as an allowance, more that they got for good grades and doing stuff.

And then they got to their quarters. Christa blinked. It looked more like a hotel room. A living room(!), bathroom, and two bedrooms. There were even configurable displays, right now showing a moonlit beach! This was so—

She blinked. The door to her bedroom had a bunk bed in it. Who was she…

“Christa Rossi? You and Tom Rossi get to bunk here. Marjorie Kyoko and Eunice Kyoko will be your roommates.”

“The… Runt?”

“Cool! I get the top bunk!” the Runt vanished into her room.

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

“But…” Christa said.

“Yeah, I know,” Timmis replied. “Having your little brother is gonna cramp your style when you invite all the guys and girls over.”

“No that’s not—“ Her face turned red.

“Sis! We can make the ceiling show off a volcano!”

“Right, you get situated, and dinner is at 1700. Have fun.”

Christa and Marjorie looked at each other. Looked around the room.

“This is going to suck,” Marjorie said.

“Uh-huh…”

****

Jackson watched as the hanger module was attached. Unlike the housing modules, the hanger module was 100,000 tons, but only a few quarters sections. It was mostly full of a hanger, designed with a complex of docking clamps and conduits to hold just over 70,000 tons of ships.

“Hope we never have to launch these boys under threat,” Martha Green muttered.

“Given that they’re not even fueled and their KF links are dismantled…” Jackson shrugged, “I suppose you’re right.”

A calculated risk. They did have 6 collars carrying Mammoth’s  and small craft carried by the ship, but 80 collars seemed like a lot—but it really wasn’t. Not when you were planning on never, ever coming back.

So these. The ships within, a mixture of designs, mostly modified Jumbos and Unions, were here.  Unable to be immediately used, but hopefully that wouldn’t be an issue when they got to their destination. But the four collars used to carry these ships granted them over 12 Jumbos and a larger number of Unions, though most of those had been stripped of most of their weapons, and would be used for utility jobs, where their hardy frame and heavy armor would make them useful.  Four more collars carried actual foundry stations, ready to start mining and manufacturing operations. Cheap, well, relatively cheap here since Jackson hadn’t even tried to get the advanced models that could turn out the best armor plate. But enough to build what they needed. Then 66 free collars, of which forty were occupied habitation units, the rest being a mixture of cargo, manufacturing, research and crew facilities.

Then the habitat itself. Four million tons of usable space.

An immense amount.  Three centuries of his family’s work, gone, as he’d poured out money like it was water, used blackmail materials held for a rainy day like there would be no days after this. Sold planetary facilities for a song to rivals who laughed at his foolishness.

All for this.

Because there would be no returning. No coming back for something they’d forgotten or overlooked, and Jackson wasn’t a fool. Before he’d spent the first credit, he’d studied the history of mankind’s expansion and the list of worlds that had died because of some stupid, minor oversight…

Was far too long for his taste.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“News from the home office. Our forces hit the Dracs. Looks like a win.”

So now we’re a threat.

“Start the evacuation. Now.” Everyone on the planet who was willing to come. “We’re ready, right?”

“Ah, Dr. Kline…”

“I’ll talk to June.”

****

“That’s not right,” June muttered. The equations worked, but…

But in addition to trying a long jump we’re preparing to jump the largest manmade object that we want to get to its destination in one piece.

“June, your father is on line one.”

June reached out and grabbed the handset. “Dad? Screaming doesn’t get things done faster.”

“How about a Drac task force?”

“A Drac task force doesn’t get things done faster.”

“June…” Jackson frowned. “How bad is it?”

“The calculations… Look, this big monster is full of things that are shifting. Water, people, normally it wouldn’t make any difference, but at this range, and with the stress on the KF core…”

“How long?”

“Three days?”

“I may not be able to give you that, but I’ll try. Also, the engineers are complaining about all the  equipment you’re setting up. What is it for?”

“For? Dad, nobody has ever done this before, ever put so much energy into a jump. We have to have a complete record of what happened.”

“Right. I remember, you’re the daughter who skipped prom for a science conference. Carry on.”

“Right.”

*****

Jackson looked around the command center. “Captain?”

Captain Pedro Silva turned and nodded. “Sir?”

“Are all dropships secured?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Put Haven under drive. I want to be as far away as possible from any inhabited parts of the system.”

“Yes sir.”

In a trivid, now would be the time the ship starts rumbling. Instead there was a quiet announcement, reminding people that there might be some disorientation, because in 30 minutes, there would be .1 g force being exerted along the axis of the station.

Insignificant. Never mentioned by anyone.

But let me see… starting from relative zero, .1G accel for… 72 hours… about 915078.12 kph.   Moving like a bat out of hell and anyone looking where they were, wouldn’t see where they are, and after they shut down the engines, only someone looking directly at them  with active sensors would see them. Even before that, station keepers weren’t like some huge ass maneuver drive sending out a bright plume.

And if the Dracs are focusing on the shipyards and world they won’t be shooting at us.

An odd pang hit Jackson at that. Even if he couldn’t do anything, he was leaving the world. The mansion, the little family gaveyard, that cafe where he and Mary had met… I wonder if Jose is still cooking there? The man never seemed to age…

He shook his head. It was too late for those thoughts.

Three days. Seventy-two hours. If June was ready then…

Well. If she wasn’t, he could keep boosting, losing the ship in deep space.

Unless someone found them.

Because that was the negative issue of accelerating. Haven might be moving like a bat out of hell, but it was doing that in a straight line. If someone saw them and jumped in front of them…

No sense in worrying about it before it happens.