Outworld Asylum

"Maybe when the time is right." Cutter said.

***

Sol-4/Mars

Elysium Holdfast was a large Aztec-style pyramid that squatted on the side of the extinct volcano, Elysium Mons. The spaceport built into its summit was lit by a steady series of landings and departures but was strictly for military use. The airspace around the base was protected by the heaviest planetary defenses outside Earth.

"All passengers prepare for arrival. Please have identification ready at debarkation point." A pleasant female voice came through hidden speakers into the passenger cabin. Jena took a deep breath and glanced out the window as the passenger airship she'd boarded at Goddard colony began a slow descent. Below her, spread out across the dusty, red plains, whole regiments of armored infantry and vehicles moved in formation toward an unknown training objective. She activated her data-monocle, waited for it to come to life, then touched the channel preset button for the news station she occasionally watched. The virtual news anchor was male this time.

"Customs Authority now confirm reports of a massive seizure of Transterran Pharacueticals products found on the Outworld Alliance frieghter Mordicai. The crew of the Mordicai is currently being detained on charges of smuggling and other piracy related offenses. The case is scheduled for presentation to the magistrate by the end of fifth-day... seventy-two hours from now. Prosecutors indicate that the amount of evidence collected is overwhelming enough to convict before the trial period expires. Defense attorneys are not talking to members of the media before the trial begins."

It had taken hours to load the airship and two more to reach Elysium Holdfast from Goddard colony. In that time she'd tried to sleep but was unable to… Adm. Kinkaid, war hero to some, war criminal to others, was waiting there, not for specifically for her, but she worried that somehow she would fail to live up to his expectations of her. Hero or criminal... Kinkaid was a legend.

"Smleck... tommorow is Fourth day," Jena muttered as she was struck by a sudden recall. "I don't even own my own Grub'in. What on Earth am I going to make for these people?"

The report shifted to shipping news as she pondered.

"Outworld Alliance and NorCom officials have issued a hazard-to-navigation advisory for all outbound shipping. A small asteroid field appears to be migrating from the Kupier Belt toward the inner system in response to unknown gravitational effects. The field is estimated to be two hundred kilometers in size and is moving at eight kilometers per second. All ships transiting Omega control zone are advised to decrease speed and increase sensor power. TIL Corporation has dispatched a survey team to assess the exploitation value of this new field."

"Lucky TIL." Jena muttered and accessed the Mars-Link network, within seconds a list of available consumer goods was scrolling down the monacle face, she highlighted "cooking utensils" and dragged a 4-quart Grub'in icon into her virtual basket, then went back and changed the menu to "bulk foods." She found all the ingredients she needed for 5 times what she was used to paying on Earth, all except for one… ground beef. She settled for an equivalent portion of ground Smleck.

"Way to go, Connie!" An Army major sitting in front of her had turned in his seat and was giving her a smile and a thumbs up.

"What?" Jena said, stunned, as several others, now aware of her, offered similar encouragements.

"Everyone's heard about what you did with Mordicai," The Major said, nodding at the smiles Jena saw directed toward her. "You did more for fleet recruiting than all the advertising campaigns ever made. Especially the piece that one reporter did…" His brow furrowed with confusion. "What was her name?"

"Cody Links." A commander offered. The Major nodded and said, "Yeah, that's her… Cody Links. She's the one that came up with the name Constellation Connie."

"Now I know who to thank." Jena said as the group went back to their own business. There was a Lieutenant waiting inside the Holdfast once the transfer crawler had completed its trek from the landing field. He carried a stack of printouts, assignments, and called out names. Those called took their assignment and disappeared into the building. Jena raised her hand when she heard her name called. Eyes locked onto the words printed on the page, she drifted away from the rest of the group, her assignment was to the flag… to Adm. Kinkaid himself. There was an information kiosk just down the corridor. She got directions as she tried to calm her pounding heart. There was an express lift nearby that went all the way to the top.

***

"So this is Constellation Connie."

Jena, standing at rigid attention, nodded and managed a smile, willing her knees not to shake, while Adm. Kinkaid's eyes did a slow, head-to-toe inspection of her uniform. He was tall, and balding, with skin stretched tight over his gaunt features, but his grip was warmer than she'd expected.

"It's an honor, sir." Jena said and shot glances at the other officers gathered at the corners of her vision. When she'd finally found her way to the situation room at the top of the Holdout, she'd heard her name being whispered the moment she'd come through the door.

"The honor is ours, Lieutenant," Kinkaid said with mirth in his voice. "It isn't every day we welcome a celebrity to our ranks. I've heard that the producers of 'Legends of Valor' have contacted us about doing your story on their show. Imagine that… I thought the time of heroes had passed us by."

The staffers around them laughed. Thinking that she was being mocked, Jena flushed red and said, "That's not really for me to say, sir. I'm just here to direct my talents toward doing the best job possible for you."

Adm. Kinkaid smiled as he leaned in close to her and said, "A word of advice, Lieutenant, there are times to be serious and times to be less so. Know which is which."

The smile disappeared as Kinkaid removed a folded printout from his pocket and opened it. He lifted it in front of eyes and moved it closer and further away until he could see the lettering on it, then cleared his throat.

"From… Northern Combine Congress," Kinkaid started in an official-sounding voice. "To Commander in Chief, Home Fleet. Effective as of April five, Twenty-one-ninety-one… Lieutenant Jena Mitchell is hereby promoted to the rank of Commander in recognition of her outstanding performance, professionalism, and dedication to duty while leading a rescue operation occurring from March nineteen to March twenty seven. Her actions bring great credit to herself, to the fleet, and to the Northern Combine."

Kinkaid passed the letter to a staffer waiting at his side. Jena kept her eyes straight ahead as he reached for her, taking up the rank badges Velcro'd to her shoulder tabs and ripping them off. He tossed the rank to the deck and reached into his pocket again, removing two new badges, which he affixed to the tabs and tamped down to ensure they were attached properly. Obeying protocol, she saluted him as he stepped back, holding it until the salute was returned. She snapped her hand back down to her side as Kinkaid smiled again and the staffers began applauding.

"I have a need of an adjutant," Kinkaid said as he grabbed her hand and gave it a slow shake. "I knew your father. We served together on the Saratoga. The job is yours if you want it."

"Thank you for the opportunity, sir." Jena said. She turned as she heard a pop. A staffer had opened a bottle of cold duck for the occasion. When she looked back at Kinkaid, his eyes were locked on hers.

"No thanks necessary, Commander," Adm. Kinkaid said as he released her hand. "We make our own opportunities. I didn't do this, you did."

***

"I've crossed into Omega control zone," The pilot of the scout ship TIL Amber-Rivet reported as his data-monocle flipped to show the location of the distant beacon. The location of the migratory field was bracketed in red. He tapped the rotation control to his left with the palm of his hand and felt the ship respond, curving into a new vector, one with the red brackets on the starfield just above the Amber-Rivet's rounded nose. "Sensors to maximum power. The field is at eight hundred thousand kilometers and closing. I'm beginning my first pass."

The pilot knew the survey routine well enough to be relaxed, letting the actions he'd allowed to become part of his nature to take over, he reached for toggles on the overhead switchboard without looking. In the cramped control cabin, the ship seemed to wrap itself around him life a suit of armor, but he regretted being passed over for the new Bonventure-class that TIL had secretly developed. He hadn't even known a prototype existed until it had launched from Earth with someone else at the controls.

"Spectrometer is online… readings are coming back clean," The pilot said. His brow furrowed as the results came up on the primary display between his knees. "No Carbonaceous bodies detected… the field is ninety-nine percent Nickel/Iron… I say again, the field is entirely Class M."

The four engines pushing Amber-Rivet forward were rapidly eating up distance. The sensors began to distinguish between individual asteroids. They all appeared to be of roughly the same size and shape; 400-800 meters long and cone-like, wider at the trailing end but tapering to a slimmer, almost rounded point. He dialed in the ship's long-range video. Craters from micrometeoroids were visible on the dappled gray-brown surface of each. Some were wider and shorter than others, but all were essentially the same shape, a unique feature. He zoomed in on one.

"There's one that looks like nine-five-one Gaspra," He said and reached for the toggle to power the next sensor suite. The view of the field changed to infrared, asteroids glowing from within with shades of red, orange, and yellow that cooled to greens and blues closer to the surface of each. "What the hell is this? It's got to be a mistake."

He shut down the power to the infrared sensor and waited several seconds before turning it on again. The results were the same. The asteroids were hot… yet should not have been so far away from the influences of large gravitational bodies.

"Are you getting this, control?" The pilot said, although he'd learned not to expect a reply, not when the Sun was more than 5.906 billion kilometers away. "This is one goddamned unusual field. I've never seen anything like it. I'd give up my chalet to find out where the source of all this thermal heat came from."

He pulled back on the engine control and the gravity pushing him into his acceleration couch eased from 2 G's to ¼ G as thrust dropped away. Another tap on the rotation control put the Amber-Rivet on a course to pass the nearest asteroids. Another row of toggles was flipped to the "active" position.

"Mass sensors online," The pilot said and felt his stomach flip as his brain immediately began flashing warnings that something was not right. "I've got serious anomalies here. Mass readings are… way off the mark. These things are Nickel/Iron but… they're only one-third as massive as any similar body," He frowned as the possibilities turning in his head stopped at one conclusion. "I think these things are hollow."

He tapped his headset as static erupted from the earphones. He dropped his eyes away from the starfield to the display for the Amber-Rivet's primary dish. It showed to set to auto-track and was oriented with Earth.

"What the hell is the problem with this thing now?" He wondered aloud. Amber-Rivet had an extremely powerful RADAR that occassionally overloaded certain systems, but communications was never one of them, especially since the RADAR was set to a lower power. He double-checked to be sure. "Control, I think I might be showing a fault in the commo system. Please respond."

A flash from in front of the ship drew his attention back forward. When he looked up, one of the asteroids had altered course and was closing. The nose of the thing emitted a blinding light that swept over the Amber-Rivet, filling the control cabin.

***

SOL-4/Mars

She'd failed. Her first attempt at cooking for her hab-mates was a disaster of epic scale. Ground Smleck did not lend itself well to her mother's recipe for Chili and the imported spices she'd paid so dearly proved too much for their sensitive, Martian stomachs.

Things had started off well enough. The smell had been enough to draw a crowd to her door… people looked into her apartment at regular intervals to watch her fumbling with her new Grub'in. They stood in line with their bowls to take their serving and each, after consuming their portion, stood in line at the toilet door to vomit.

The intrigued looks they had given her only moments before were replaced by looks of fear and suspicion. Jena had been crushed. She'd mumbled an apology and retreated to her small apartment. On the verge of tears, she climbed out of her bed to answer a knock on her door and found the old woman there, bowl in hand, asking for a second helping.

The woman's name was Marta, and as she helped Jena wash her Grub'in, she explained that, when she was a girl, she'd lived on Earth in a small town along the Guadalupe River. Chili had been one of her favorite meals. Old Marta had thanked her heartily and, wearing the same clever grin, made a basic list of the things Martians were used to eating before taking her leave.

Jena sighed at the previous night's debacle as she stood at the door to Adm. Kinkaid's office. She could see him inside, sitting at his desk with the lights dimmed, hands folded in front of him. She lifted her hand to knock but stopped, unsure of if he wanted to be disturbed, almost unwilling to break his reverie. He looked toward the door, as if sensing her presence, and motioned for her to enter. She pressed the correct key and stepped through when the door opened.

"I… I'm sorry, sir. I didn't want to bother you." Jena said and clutched her datapad to her chest. Adm. Kinkaid smiled briefly, but it was comfort enough for her, she relaxed slightly.

"When you're in our business, my dear commander, there's no such thing as a bother," Kinkaid said and waved a hand at the chair set up next to his desk. "Please… sit."

He stood as she moved to the chair, sitting again once she had, obeying the etiquette of a bygone time frozen into his bones again and again. The effort to stand seemed to pain him though he made no mention of it.

"You have my attention, commander." He said flatly and leaned back in his chair, his eyes boring into hers. Jena cleared her throat and looked down at the information she'd saved onto her datapad.

"Regarding the asteroid field migrating into Omega control zone, sir, we have a final count of the number of objects," Jena said evenly, mentally cursing the power of the old admiral to intimidate her. "It's made up of roughly one-hundred fifty asteroids of between two-thousand and ten-thousand tons each. They're spaced relatively evenly throughout the field."

"Do we have any ships in the area?" Kinkaid said after a moment of consideration.

"No, sir… per your instructions, all military traffic has been routed around Omega control zone," Jena said after opening the file containing the appropriate information. "All civilian traffic arriving into the zone are immediately being notified of the hazard to navigation and advised to alter course through Tau or Alpha control zones. The only civilians in the region are research vessels studying the composition of the field."

"We have an opportunity here, commander," Kinkaid said as he pursed his lips while thoughtfully stroking his chin. "By effectively closing one control zone, we can double the assets patrolling those around it. Very nice… very nice. What did we have in Omega control zone?"

"Customs Authority rotates a dozen corvettes in and out," Jena said and read down the list on her datapad screen. "Home Fleet is contributing ten frigates and four destroyers, sir. HMS Coventry, HMS Hempstead, HMS Concord, and USS Gerber."

"I want new orders cut for those ships immediately," Kinkaid said. "Five frigates and two destroyers each for Tau and Alpha control zones. How soon can you get me an estimate on the percentage increase in contraband captures from the extra help in the two control zones?"

"By the end of the day, sir." Jena said resolutely. Kinkaid shook his head and looked down at the hardcopy scattered across his desk.

"Close of business Seventh-day will suffice," Kinkaid said. "Issue the orders, I leave the particulars up to you."

Jena stood. Kinkaid began to follow but grimaced and dropped back into his seat. "A word to the wise, commander… never try to do too much too quickly. You might need all that energy some time later. How are you getting along with Captain Eva?"

"I find her a bit abrasive, sir," Jena said. As aide-de-camp to Admiral Kinkaid, she'd resolved to answer him honestly no matter what the question. "At first I thought she was just giving me a hard time because I was new to the team. Now I'm beginning to think she truly doesn't like me."

"I'm reassigning her to Freedom Point," Kinkaid said. "She'll never make admiral and I don't imagine she's taking it very well. Endure her as best you can… you'll be quite beyond her reach soon enough."

"What did she do?"

"The NorCom has a de-facto obligation to defend Earth," Kinkaid said in a low voice so that it would not carry. "A great tragedy could've been averted if she'd acted properly while acting as watch officer at Norad. We moved her here to keep the press away from her."

Jena later mulled over his words as she reviewed a report on the battle readiness of E-Con naval garrisons in nearby systems. Now that Transterran had legal justification to seize the E-Con warships decaying in their orbital depots, Kinkaid needed to know what they were capable of deploying.

Maybe naval intelligence can work up a briefing on it, she though and opened her digi-calendar. She entered in start and end dates and ran a search titled "open hours." They were getting fewer and fewer.

***

SOL-3/Earth

"Amber-Rivet went missing six hours ago," Cutter said as he stared over his steepled fingers at the Old Earth print on the wall opposite his desk. "Water Lilies" by Monet. It was late and his office was dimly lit, reflecting his dark, uncertain mood. "Our pilot radioed back some very peculiar readings before he stopped transmitting… he thought the asteroids were hollow… sort of like a geode I suppose. Search and rescue launches in four hours unless I come up with a reason they shouldn't."

Leda stood at the office window and looked away from the cityscape spread out beneath her, listening to Cutter vent his frustrations and, she told herself, fears of the real unknown growing at the edges of the system where sunlight did not reach. She moved to the broad-leafed potted plant next to the window and plucked off the few brown, dead leaves she found on its branches, then turned to him and said, "Could it be something as simple as an equipment malfunction?"

"I've gone through the service logs for Amber-Rivet already," Cutter said without breaking his thoughtful pose. "It was older ship but was very well maintained… not a single incident on file. Even if the primary dish had failed it has two secondary dishes to operate with. If the ship had been destroyed, that would've been something we could detect, instead it just," He spread his hands wide. "Vanished… as if such a thing could still happen in this day and age."

"Occam's Razor," Leda said and gave her attention to the plant again. She exhaled into the leaves and was rewarded with an almost imperceptible wave of Oxygen returned to her. "If the communications systems haven't been compromised and there's no evidence of a crash, the ship must be occulted somehow."