The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [84]
“He’s dead,” Robb added, swallowing hard.
BeBob shook his head sadly. “Poor Davlin.”
Rlinda found herself growing both angry and stubborn. “Right. I’ve heard that one before. We saw the Blind Faith destroyed before our very eyes, and he managed to survive.” Rlinda leaned across the table, scowling at Tamblyn and Brindle. “I can’t believe you just left him there! What were you thinking?”
Tamblyn didn’t flinch. “Davlin did it to buy our freedom, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him waste the sacrifice.”
“Thanks to him, we saved almost a hundred other people,” Brindle added.
Rlinda sat back, crossed her heavy arms over her breasts, and clung to her optimism. “Some people have a knack for getting out of desperate situations. After all I’ve been through with that man, I know not to underestimate Davlin Lotze.”
* * *
58
Caleb Tamblyn
Caleb had never much liked people, but this maddening solitude was getting on his nerves. Lost on a barren planetoid, he felt like Robinson Crusoe. From what he remembered of that old tale, Crusoe had been ingenious at using scant materials to make a functional home for himself.
Caleb figured he could achieve a lot more than that. After all, he was a Roamer.
Having scavenged the few marginally useful items at the melted ruins of the hydrogen-extraction facility, he used them to reinforce his modest habitat. After that, he resigned himself to utilizing the slim pickings in his escape pod. The only other technological items on Jonah 12 were orbiting ekti reactors, automated cargo-transfer satellites, and communications boosters, but they circled high above the frozen planetoid.
Eventually, with all the time in the world to think, Caleb convinced himself that those items might not be out of reach after all.
Though the pod’s transmitter wouldn’t reach beyond the Jonah system, he could use it to send coded commands to the mothballed equipment in orbit. It might take a while to decipher the protocols and Roamer programming, but it wasn’t as if Caleb had anything else to do. Tinkering with the emergency transmitter, he scanned through hundreds of possible frequencies and tried different electronic handshake routines as he attempted to wake up at least one of the satellites. Though he was wasting battery power, he considered the gamble worthwhile, given the potential payoff.
Finally, his constant pleading ping was answered when a production satellite recognized the signal. Caleb lurched over to the slanted control panel and keyed in the secondary protocol, which locked the two signals together. “Gotcha!”
The production satellite dutifully transmitted its schematics so that Caleb could see what he had latched onto. It was little more than a box with attitude-control thrusters, a storage unit holding supplies for passing cargo ships so they would not need to drop into Jonah 12’s shallow gravity well.
Now, if he could remember his basic celestial mechanics.
Since Jonah 12 had no atmosphere to speak of, he couldn’t use drag to slow down the satellite; that meant he would have to bring it down under its own power. At least he had a good estimate of the planetoid’s gravity, and that was the main thing he needed.
Under his command, the satellite’s rockets fired, decreasing its orbital velocity and forcing it to spiral down. It was easy to make the satellite crash; the tricky part was making it crash nearby. Even bounding along in the low gravity, he wouldn’t be able to cover much distance in an environment suit.
Four more orbits, and the satellite had spiraled down until it raced only a thousand feet above the surface. Caleb suited up, carefully checking his seals, locking his helmet down, closing the faceplate, and pressurizing his suit. One more orbit, he guessed, and the satellite was going to come down.
He stood outside, watching for the tiny glimmer to pass overhead as he stared up at the stars. They all