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Year Four
“I wanted to see it for myself.” Admiral Absen gazed at the main screen on the bridge of the refitted EarthFleet ship Artemis, a heavy construction platform rather than the warship she was designed to be. Despite the proliferation of facilities on captured asteroids, and the many ships now zipping around the solar system, she was still the biggest space vessel ever built by humans.
Captain Huen sat comfortably in the Chair. “That’s really not seeing it, sir,” he said in his smoothest of British accents maintained by the upper crust of Hong Kong society, legacy of ninety-nine years under foreign rule. “But we can go to the docking port and take a real look.”
“I’d like that,” Absen responded.
“Ms. Rikard, you have the conn.” Huen stood up to turn over his position to a tall thin woman with Commander’s stripes. “Follow me.”
The ship’s captain, the admiral, and four stewards – Tobias, Shan, Schaeffer and Clayton – walked along Artemis’ central corridors, so like Orion’s own. As sister ships that is to be expected, Absen mused, but already they have diverged due to the damage and renovation of the station, and the use to which this ship has been put.
Crew and passengers crowded through the corridors, but moved for the command party. Shan made sure of it by going before and calling out, “Make way!” in a carrying voice. Civilians, some of them not fully understanding, were pulled aside by EarthFleet ratings if they did not get out of the way of their gods-on-deck fast enough. Navy tradition wasn’t the only driver of this behavior: no one took security lightly, or wanted to be the target of a steward’s ire.
The walk from the bridge, buried deep in the middle of the cylindrical ship, to the docking port in the nose, took less than two minutes, as it was only around two hundred meters distance along a straight corridor. Once they arrived, they were able to look out upon their objective from a range of a mere thousand kilometers. It appeared as a dim grey sphere that filled a large part of their direct view.
Ceres. The planetoid, largest object in the Asteroid Belt, bulked over nine hundred kilometers in diameter, a quarter that of Earth’s moon, but far less massive. Its gravity pulled at only about three percent of Earth’s, so Artemis’ current orbit was very slow, a controlled drift.
Composed mostly of ices and clays, nevertheless the planetoid was slated to become the arsenal of EarthFleet. The new mechanical fusion reactors, now being produced by the thousands on orbital factories, could process its materials and power machines, and metallic asteroids had already been soft-landed on its surface to provide the necessary construction substances.
“You can’t really see much detail from this viewport,” Huen said, “but it does provide perspective. We are in a slowly descending spiral. Our engines can give us almost a half G, plenty of power to maintain orbit or get away if we need to. In about four days we will land the ship atop one of the many large iron asteroids that have been set down in a massive field near its north pole. Special landing struts will keep us far enough away from the surface that waste heat will not cause us problems.”
“I hear all the structures will be fitted out with pylons like that,” Absen said.
“You are correct, sir. With gravity so low, one can almost imagine that, instead of being on the surface of a planet, the facilities are actually sitting next to a massive asteroid that happens to have a tiny attraction. It’s all a matter of perspective.”
“Yes, I see,” and Absen did. After this long in space, he had gotten the hang of not thinking only in terms of up or down. “And how long until the first ship is built?”
“Projections say three years.”
“Leaving at most three years of production, which yields...”
“About ninety thousand kamikazes. You know the rest of the order of battle.”
Absen nodded. “I’m still very uncomfortable with this tactic, but there are plenty of volunteers, and maybe none of them will have to use their final option.”
Huen shrugged. “Many nations in times past have employed suicide warriors when their backs were to the wall. Some used condemned criminals and promised them pardons if they survived. Some were religious zealots driven by visions of Paradise. Some, like those that provided this eponymous Japanese name ‘kami-kaze’ – Divine Wind – died for the nation, or a warrior’s code. Ours will be just one chapter in a long history of honorable sacrifice.”
“I know.” Absen stared at the dim ball, so cold but so vital to Earth’s defense. “It still seems odd that, with all the tremendous industry on Earth, we come all the way out here to make the shipyards.”
“The orbital factories are scheduled to capacity already. While Earth’s resources are close to them, extra materials in the form of asteroids have to be brought from beyond the orbit of Mars. Here, the asteroids are all around us. Once the Pseudo-Von Neumann factories we carry are running, they will build more modular factories in logarithmic progression. By that time they will spread out over the surface of Ceres. Then, about three years from now, they will stop making more factories and will start making weapons and ships.”
“I wanted them to do it on the Moon,” Absen remarked.
“I hear they are putting some factories there, but the gravity well still impedes efficiency. Robots facilities are very good at working fast in very low gravity. All people have to do is monitor them and adjust their programming. I suggested they put the factories on Callisto, where we will soon build the operational Aerospace Force Base, but I was overruled as well.”
Absen turned to Huen in surprise. “I never heard about that suggestion.”
“Ask General Tyler, or his staff. Why should they listen to one lone captain?”
“Because you’re in charge of one of the most vital pieces of our war effort there is, and you’re the man on the ground. If you can call this ground...”
“Admiral...” Huen seemed reticent, but continued. “I did not mean to cause problems at your level. I was not complaining. I have come to believe that General Tyler made the right decision. Ceres has a better mix of materials, and is surrounded by millions of tons more within easy distance. It will not be an immediate and obvious target, while the operational base will be. Our eggs should not be all in one basket.”
Absen pursed his lips in thought, turning away to pace for a moment while Huen stood in uncomfortable silence. “Captain Huen...I see I have been remiss. I knew you were a competent and capable officer, and I was happy to take advantage of your obvious managerial and leadership skills, but at my level it’s easy to get lost in the forest and forget the trees. And, I know you’re chafing at being a glorified factory manager these last three years, and would like something more operational.” He took his tablet out of a pocket and made a note. “I won’t forget again.”
“Thank you, sir,” Huen responded, trying not to show his sudden happiness.
“Well,” Absen smiled at the captain, not so constrained by culture or position, “thank you for the eyes-on view. Now I’d like to just tour your operation here, if you don’t mind. I’ll stay for a couple of days, and then go back on my command courier. My report will reassure the Combined Council, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Huen couldn’t stop himself from bowing gratefully, even though it was not EarthFleet custom. “Then if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to.”
