Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [19]
“Tell me,” Jackson urged, trying to hold his impatience in check. These Shamani were just too damned deliberate!
“We are carrying the prototype of a new type of defensive technology. It is a shield, an energy barrier that can be used to protect a ship from various kinds of attacks such as laser and particle beam weapons. Our cargo does not include the entire device, but from what I understand, our engineers have installed the main driver mechanism for the shield. It is only lacking in the application software.”
“You mean, like a bulletproof vest for a space ship?” Jackson asked, amazed. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to see how useful such potentially lifesaving technology could prove to be.
“Yes. Only it will not stop physical devices such as projectiles. It is designed to deflect all wave spectra. I am wondering if the pirates might have been after that device. If so, they may have intended the bomb to cover their tracks, as you say. To remove the evidence of their theft.”
“Makes sense,” Jackson agreed. “They can probably sell it for a pretty penny at some kind of alien market. Can you show me this device?”
“Come with me. We will see it after your men have deactivated the bomb.”
She spoke as if success were automatic. Jackson was grateful for her confidence in his Team, even though he wasn’t enough of an optimist to be totally certain the bomb could be stopped.
They continued through a double air lock, floating into the massive cargo compartment in the belly of the great ship. The after hold of the Lotus was large enough to hold a football field, including the end zones. Like the rest of the habitable parts of the ship, it was pressurized, but it currently lacked any gravitational pull since the ship still was drifting. Rows and rows of crates, most of them identical, were stacked in rows and columns, fastened down by their own latches so that nothing drifted freely.
It wasn’t hard to spot the bomb: It was a much smaller box than the cargo crates and had been nestled in a gap between two rows of cargo. Knowing it was a nuke, Jackson understood that it didn’t matter where they were on the ship or even in nearby space. If the thing exploded, they were all dead, so he might as well move in for a closer look.
Jackson and the consul slowly approached the device where Baxter and Teal were working to defuse it. The officer and the Shamani diplomat drifted soundlessly nearby, careful to make no sound or movement that would distract the two men.
The two SEALS used a variety of small low-tech tools, including pliers, screwdrivers, and wedges. They also had several miniature computers hooked up to the control panel via a tangled nest of wires. For several minutes they consulted dials and probed at contact points; then they finally zeroed in on a small button. Baxter took off the housing around the knob, and Teal extended a needle-nose pliers, firmly grasping at a wire and decisively plucking it free.
“Got it, sir,” the corpsman said after consulting all of his dials and meters. “She’s dead as a doornail now.”
“Good work, SEALS,” Jackson said, slowly exhaling and wondering just how long he’d been holding his breath. Char-Kane looked at him in palpable relief.
“Now, where’s this shield device you were talking about?” asked the officer.
“This way,” the Shamani consul said, jetting up and over a rack of containers. “The shield driver is in a long rectangular crate. I would guess that it is about four of your meters long, one meter wide, and one meter tall.”
Jackson followed, and when Char-Kane went suddenly rigid, he got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“It was right between these rows,” the consul said, looking around frantically. “But it’s not there anymore! The shield machinery,” Char-Kane said in shock. “It’s gone!”
“I want to talk to Lieutenant Jackson.”
Admiral Ballard’s voice, even over the communicator receiving his broadcast from the Pangaea half a million kilometers away, carried an ominous undertone of menace. Given the delay in radio traffic, the