Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [140]
The reprogrammed Soldier compies were primarily assigned to hard labor out in the shipyards, hauling metal-rich rubble closer to the big smelters. Others had mapped the rings’ gravitational fields in detail, marking safe zones for portable factories and pinpointing new stable orbits for construction frames.
“We left a bit of their EDF recon programming intact—just the parts we thought might be useful—so those Soldier compies excel at high-risk exploration. I assigned forty of them to spread out in the densest ring concentrations, places where I’ve never had the guts to fly before. Too crowded and too dangerous. With their reaction times, they’re the best fliers I’ve ever seen, even in our clunky old grappler pods.”
“Not better than I am, Dad.”
“I’d rather not put it to the test, my sweet. Let compies take the stupid risks. And if they happen to get damaged…well, we can always use their components for scrap.” Kellum expanded a segment of the display where the orbiting rubble was so dense that the pinpoints looked like a swarm of gnats.
“Down close to the planet itself, the rubble’s so thick that nobody’s dared to fly there before, but it must be rich in resources. The surprise is that I expected to lose half of the compy scouts, but so far they keep sending back readings.” A waterfall of numbers and symbols flowed down columns. “By damn, look at all those metals. A handful of those Soldier compies could put our old prospectors out of business.”
“Most of the prospectors wouldn’t mind, Dad. They complain as much as our Eddy guests do.”
Kellum wasn’t listening as he concentrated on the data. He tapped at a glaringly anomalous reading. “What the hell is that?”
Zhett looked closer, as if the numbers might mean something. “With all the sensors you installed in the recon grappler pods, how could you forget to include optical relays?”
“They were compies. I didn’t figure they’d need to do any sightseeing.” Kellum shrugged and ran his finger along the data charts. “But look here. Whatever that is, it clearly doesn’t belong with the rest of the material.”
“Maybe it’s more EDF wreckage,” Zhett suggested. “It could have drifted in toward the planet.”
“But the signature’s all wrong.”
She lifted her chin. “Well, are you going to stare at a computer screen all day long, or are we going to go have a look at it?”
He grinned at her. “By damn, let’s go.”
“Just so you know, I’m flying, Dad. No arguments.” Kellum knew better than to disagree.
Cruising along at a speed that made her father uncomfortable, Zhett spiraled into the densest inner ring. Some of the reprogrammed Soldier compies accompanied their scout vessel as outflyers, plotting a safe course and issuing preliminary warnings of dangerous debris. To distract himself from his nervousness, her father talked…and talked.
“I’ve noticed you spending quite a bit of time with that young Eddy commander Fitzpatrick.”
She shrugged to cover her flush of embarrassment. “I torment him mercilessly, but it’s hard not to. His very personality demands that I push his buttons, and he never disappoints me with his response.”
“Well, see if you can push a different button and get him to do some work for a change. Do you think they’re adjusting to their new life here?”
Zhett snorted. “Not at all.”
“Well then, I don’t know what to do with them. It’s time they learned to be useful. After all, they’re adopted family members now, not prisoners.”
Zhett dodged three crisscrossing meteoroids. “I doubt they’ll ever think of themselves that way, Dad. So far, the thing they’re best at is being pains in the ass.”
“Not a particularly useful skill. So what do you think of that young man? He’s handsome, and your age, and—”
“Dad, have you noticed the debris field I’m flying through? Please let me concentrate.”
“Of course.” The slight