Joe’s red space suit wasn’t so noticeable as he stood behind the sledge controls. The lispers would be flying all round him. Invisible in their blacked up flying suits. This far from a star, surrounded by so much gas, it was pretty dark anyway. Joe doubted anyone would spot them. He could really only “see” through the electronics of his visor making things brighter.
Navvs had worked out the automatic course. It showed up as a trace on Joe’s optic nerves. It was time to try and match rotation with the mine. To try and aim for a single point on the two hundred kilometre wide spinning wheel.
“All thtop” it was the Sergeant’s voice, “Thethe’s movement. Any ideath?”
“Not cathing thentwys. A work pawty I think,” said one of the lispers. “I can get clother from my thide. They wont thee me.”
“Go” said Sarge.
They all waited. Hanging in space. Joe could see the work party now. At the stern of the destroyer. Men in suits manoeuvring a large curved shape.
“Lookth like they’re changing a guide vane or thomething” said Sarge.
“Vengeance to shore party. This is Guns speaking. We have twenty minutes before Blue Squadron become visible.”
“I know Guns,” said Joe “Don’t worry.” Joe wished he hadn’t said that. Of course he was worried. They were all terrified.
“Look,” said Sarge “They’re going back again. Left that vane thing floating there. OK Vengeanthe. Thore party is protheeding.”
Slowly Joe aimed the sledge towards his target. A platform by an inspection hatch in the outer edge of the hub. Near where the spokes were joined on. With the sledge in position the centrifugal force would hold it there instead of flinging it off.
Joe kept on. Close to the grey brown metal. He could see weld splatter from when the place was built. He could see the platform. It appeared “below” him. He hit the wall and let the sledge scrape down. It hit home. Only now did Joe think. This would have made a noise. Maybe the sort of thing a lone gunman would investigate.
He fastened the sledge down with a few grapples and tried to open the hatch. It fell off backwards. Into the hub. More noise. Vibration in the metal anyway.
He turned up the acquisition on his visor. He could see the room beyond. Dust and corroded metal flakes hung in the vacuum. There was a big pulley wheel. It would have a cable running from one spoke to the next. This would control the trams collecting metalised gas from the spokes. As one tram went out under centrifugal force, it would drag another one back towards the hub.
But Joe had work.
He connected up his suit skull sockets to a black box and began to think about the command and control display. The mine plans and the position of the lispers and the information from the bugs.
He worked his way from an image of the surface where he was, to the next level. And the next. Floors and walls appearing as line drawings. Lines he could look through to concentrate on the next floor, the next walls, and the next beyond. There were little stick figure images of the Mirconian work detail. Carrying cargo into the living quarters. Figures with numbers on were the lispers.
Joe could “see” through the hub. Joe could “see” where everyone was.
“Sergeant. I’m all set up. I’m sending all this info back to the Vengeance. May I order your men into position?”
“You go ahead thunthine. Order away.”
“Right. One OK. Two can you go round the rim another hundred meters or so. That’s it. Have you got line of sight past the destroyer into the hold?”
“Thight confirmed.”
“Good. Three can you see into dock where the large airlock leads into the insides. Where that lift truck is now.”
“Got it.”
“Oh no. There’s a hatch opening in the destroyer. I think…. Yes. They’re getting a box handler out. Its fitted with a gun, or…. No it’s a handling arm. Could be going to work on the stern.”
“It ith.” Said the Sarge. “Can I recommend that Number Six follows it with a bazooka?”
Joe found the figure marked six on the diagram in his eyes. “Yes. Six I was putting you on the other side of the hub to mark that freighter. But stay where you are. No go another fifty meters towards the spokes. Can you mark the stern from there?”
“Thith ith thix. I got it”
“Good” One by one
Joe positioned the lispers on both ends of the dock. A firing party
complete with missiles was at the other side. In case the freighter
tried to leave when the destroyer was hit. They could still do the
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