Chapter THIRTY-EIGHT
The soft clicks of switches opening and closing andthe soft thunks of levers rammed home were the onlysounds on the Dragon's command deck as Drummerand Brad climbed the companionway.
Captain Hyk, standing on the bridge platform abovethe command deck, took them in with a quick glance,nodded, and continued about his business directingand observing the Dragon entering launch.
Brad followed Drummer to a computer in a tinyalcove on a balcony above the plotting table. Theyswung seats out from under the table on which theconsole rested, sat, and Brad entered his DNA IDand password. He followed with instructions thatbrought a series of real-time graphics across themonitor.
Selecting first one, then another, the two menstudied the displays, as they pointed and commentedon their observations. Drummer straightened.
"Recap, Brad," he ordered.
Brad tapped keys and the screen listed eachPlutonian ship in the Assault Force and itsCommander in one column and the readiness levelfor launch in the other.
Brad pointed at the highlighted "Fleet readiness 92percent."
"Allies?"
"Made the trip from home stations along diverseroutes and under detection wraps. They're insidethe comm-barrier an hour from Point Icarus.It'll take us that long to launch, form up, do thedistance, and position ourselves to receive them."
A crewman's head appeared at the head of thecompanionway, looked about and fixed on Drummer.
"Call from security up at the tunnel entrance, sir.Visitor to see you."
"Who is it?"
"Major Scarf, sir. Says he has urgent business todiscuss with you."
Drummer and Brad exchanged glances. Hyk immediatelygave his full attention to his monitor's screen.Drummer knew that neither he nor Hyk could refuseScarf's request to come aboard. He addressed Hyk.
"Any objections, Har?"
"None, Admiral."
"Very well," Drummer glanced toward the messenger."Escort Major Scarf to my quarters."
##
The compartment was small, not built for comfort.Scarf's massive frame crowded the space.
"I'm coming along." Scarf's tone was brusque.
"The hell you are." Drummer's was equally blunt.
Brad eyed Scarf. "Your job is on the surface," hesaid. "What purpose can you serve by tagging along?"
Scarf looked from Drummer to Brad and back, notsure whom he should address. He chose Drummer.
"Coldfield and the surrounding areas are under fullcontrol of my security forces. I've left my deputyin charge, and he can contact me within secondsshould that be necessary. With Narval away andus here, there's not much going on in the CommandSection."
Scarf tapped Drummer's chest with his forefinger,"you've got more'n a thousand of my best troops foroccupation duty on the Terminals. They're mine andI'm gonna lead them when they go into action. I'mmoving in over my on-site troop commander, that'sall. What's more, I understand you've reassignedsome of my troops to this wagon. That's fine withme. I'll just move in with them, and assume directcommand until they're back with the main group.Entirely proper for me to do this as chief of theirService."
Brad thrust his hands into his pockets to hide thefists they had formed. His mind worked furiouslyon the new threat.
"Our plans are complete, Scarf," he said. "If youremain, we expect you to follow orders from theFleet Commander."
Scarf, sure of his victory, showed his pleasure.
"Sure, sure," he said, a grin creasing his face,waving the proviso away with the back of hishand. "Anything the boss says. It's your show. Iunderstand."
Taking Drummer's silence as acquiescence, Scarfpivoted in the small space and squeezed out of thecompartment. He barked at the guard to escort himto the officer-in-charge of the troop detachment.
Drummer issued the launch order. One following theother, the warships catapulted off of their launchtracks, rose swiftly into space, and formed upbehind mine sweepers Scamp, Varlet and Scalawag.The battle cruisers Dragon and Tiger, guarded bydestroyer screens and support ships, turned towardPoint Icarus.
Three million kay ahead, the Slingshot terminalsappeared as just another unblinking light in arunnel of multicolored jewels.
Slingshot had always been real to Brad; in thedeepening crisis for humankind's survival itspurpose was profound. It had been so to himas far back as he could remember.
Brad keyed the Slingshot complex closer on anearby computer screen. Generally familiar withthe schematics of the Slingshot stations, hewas overwhelmed by the two enormous cones andtheir peripherals, which configured the Terminals'hoppers. Each terminal, almost three kay acrossits base, formed an intricate maze of interlockedspars, beams, panels, conduit and modules.
The Slingshot stations were centers of activity.Inside and out, the work areas were crowded. Inall directions were massive and intricate fusiongenerators, transformers and power distributionsystems; dozens of spherical, rectangular andcylindrical workshops and clusters of habitat,first aid stations, transports and tugs and bargespushing, pulling, warping and traversing. It was apicture of enormous structures and modules spreadacross the visible space ahead. The scene wasgeometric, multidimensional, and seemingly chaotic.
Separated from each other by more than a hundredkay of open space, the Terminal schematic expandedrapidly on the Dragon's screens as the fleetnarrowed the gap. At Point Icarus the Slingshotconstruction site filled more than half the viewtanks space.
Brad and Drummer watched as changes occurredhastily throughout the Terminals' space. Lightsdimmed or blacked out entirely; others increasedintensity. Three destroyers darted through theprotective force field's gates, deployed, and tookdefensive positions. A mine-layer advanced, cameabout and laid a pattern of tac-nuclear eggs.
The Plutonian Assault Force had been quicklydetected. Their intentions obvious, Slingshot'smanagers prepared as best they could to defendthemselves. Scores of transports were lined up toescape through the gateway; those that had reachedthe outside lumbered away toward deep space.