seawasp | FENRIR: Chapter 33

The project was moving along...

Chapter 33. Interrupted Triumph

Days to Launch: 20

"Madame President, I want to reiterate that I absolutely hate this," Roger Stone said as he followed Jeanne.

"So do I, Roger," she said, trying to keep her strides steady and measured as they should be. Tension was not helping her focus now. "But the positive side is that if we can get through today, we should make it the rest of the way. Is everything prepared?"

"Hailey says 'Mix and Match' is a go. We've got security drones in the air everywhere that matters, and eyes on the ground for the full perimeter. Mr. Flint's Bells are fully charged and on alert. Three different groups have checked the viewing stands. Werner's on board Carpathia, ostensibly overseeing the transfer."

"But he's got Task Group 1 ready?"

"Set to go. Hopefully won't be needed, they're there if we do."

The stands surrounding Carpathia had been carefully upgraded to provide shelter from the intense sunlight of the American desert, and were discreetly equipped with the maximum possible surveillance equipment. Straightening and shifting her walk to her public "confident and in control" gait, Jeanne looked around. God, I hope everyone's precautions hold. I don't know where there's been an assembly of targets like this.

Xi Deng and his security detail were already in place; She could see the General Secretary gesticulating with excitement as he studied Carpathia, towering up before them on its building-sized shock mounts; President Murmu of India appeared to be the target of his current discussion. Jeanne waved her hand as she saw Kier Sunnak, the UK Prime Minister, begin mounting the stands on the other side; Sunnak returned the wave. Other heads of state and their representatives were arriving.

The press were recording all the arrivals, naturally, and – unsurprisingly – even the President of the United States wasn't their primary focus. That was reserved for Dr. Bronson and her entourage, as members of the Carpathia team began to fill their section of the stands.

Which is as it should be. They're the ones who will be climbing into that monster and flying to meet the only starship we've ever seen. Jeanne sternly suppressed the pang of annoyance and envy; there had never been the slightest chance that she would be on Carpathia, any more than Secretary Xi Deng or Japan's Emperor.

From the stands, the completed Carpathia loomed more like a mountain than a human construct, broader and more squat in outline than the typical vision of a spaceship. Massing more than the Empire State Building, it was less than half as tall, the heaviest single part of it being the gleaming metal curve of the drive or pusher plate, which now sat in a slightly curved depression, supported by multiple columns between which could be dimly seen the bulk of literally thousands of tons of explosives, carefully distributed and placed to provide the best initial impulse to the ship.

If someone detonated that, they'd wipe out half the leaders of the world in a single shot – and more than half the crew. Ironically, it would probably not damage Carpathia in the least; anyone currently inside the interplanetary vessel was safer than anywhere else.

Now that it was complete, the Carpathia shone in the light of the sun. Encircling the squat nosecone shape of the main ship were numerous symbols – the national symbols of every nation of the world, as well as that of the United Nations, the European Union, and other international organizations. This made a chain of multicolored brilliance enclosing Carpathia in the representations of Earth's peoples who had brought her to life.

Down each side of the vessel, emblazoned in immense golden letters, was the name CARPATHIA. Across the front of Carpathia, pointing towards the sky, was the symbol of the Carpathia project itself, a depiction of the original seagoing vessel launching itself into a sea of stars, surrounded by the motto Ad Astra Pro Vita – To the Stars for the sake of Life.

Spaced around the Carpathia, more streamlined duplicates of their mothership, the ACES hung in little notches around the main vessel; unsurprisingly, their individual names echoed their acronym, with the two that Jeanne could make out being the Ace of Hearts and Ace of Clubs. She admitted to herself that those seemed a bit pedestrian to Dr. Jerry Freeman's suggestions of Aces High, Aces Wild, Four Aces, and Flying Aces.

Experienced from reviewing intelligence briefings for the past few years, Jeanne was also fairly certain she could pick out the locations of the Carpathia's armaments, as well as the more obvious mountings of her maneuvering jets.

As with all such gatherings, it took a while for everyone to get seated, and even longer before all the myriad tiny technical glitches were smoothed out and the event could actually begin.

"Welcome, everyone," York Dobyn's voice came smoothly over the speakers. "This is a momentous occasion – one of quite a few we've had over the last couple of years!" A spatter of chuckles followed that dry assertion. "But today we will be finally turning Carpathia into a fully-capable spaceship. You are here as witnesses to the completion of the most capable and powerful vehicle the human species has ever created – a creation that could not have happened without the support of each and every one of you, and those that you represent, support, and advise. On behalf of Carpathia, we all thank you. Now, I turn this over to Director Stephanie Bronson, the discoverer of Fenrir and the leader of this project!"

That garnered over a minute of enthusiastic applause. "Thank you, thank you all," Stephanie said at last, with a little laugh, and Jeanne noted with approval that there was no trace of the nervous, self-conscious young woman she'd first met almost three years ago. Whatever her internal insecurities, Stephanie Bronson had learned how to look and sound like a leader. "We know it's not terribly comfortable out here, so we'll try to make this quick enough so no one has to run inside to the air conditioning."

Another ripple of laughter. It was obvious that no one was likely to leave their seats before the main event. "In line with York's thanks to all of you gathered here, we invite each country's representative to say a few words. And I've emphasized to them a few words!"

To prevent any accusations of favoritism, Stephanie called on the representatives in alphabetical order of their country. Thankfully, nowhere near all nations had sent a representative – that, she thought, would be reserved for the actual launch – but there were enough, starting with Afghanistan, Argentina, and Australia and going through Brazil, China, Columbia, and Denmark and continuing on through the alphabet, from the large countries like India and the tiny like Nuaru. Each representative did, thankfully, restrain themselves to a few sentences rather than the usual ten-minute speech, and it wasn't a too very long time before it was the turn of the United States of America.

"We are immeasurably proud to launch Carpathia from our own soil, and grateful for the support of all the rest of the world in this project," Jeanne said. "All that I can add to what everyone else has said is this: rescue Fenrir."

It wasn't long until the rest finished, ending with Venezuela, Vietnam, and Zimbabwe. There was a somewhat tired round of applause at the conclusion, and then Director Bronson stood again. "Only one thing remains to make Carpathia fully functional: the antimatter that's essential to the controlled nuclear fission that makes the ship possible. This is to be transferred to Carpathia today, in preparation for launch, giving us time to verify the functioning of all systems including the vital antimatter containment systems."

She pointed, and Jeanne stood with the others, squinting down one of the long dusty streets that radiated out from Carpathia.

A large, white truck, with a generally spherical container mounted to the rear, had just turned up the street towards the Carpathia, four much smaller military trucks surrounding it as escorts. Jeanne could also see the presence of drones on high watch, and suspected there were other guardians she couldn't see.

"In that container is more antimatter than humanity had ever produced in history, prior to the Carpathia project," Stephanie continued. "And it is only one-third of the total. Each of these transports carries enough for Carpathia to fulfill her mission; with all of them loaded, she will be provided with enough reserve to meet even unreasonable demands – and that's a good thing, because no one will be able to help Carpathia once she lifts.

"That's why every system that can be redundant has been duplicated, sometimes triplicated, to ensure that there is no single disaster, no one emergency, that can prevent our ship from surviving and doing her job."

"Our ship," she repeated, and her voice was warmer; Jeanne saw with approval that she was wearing the same awed, joyous expression that Audrey had mentioned more than once. "And it is ours, every single one of us. The news sites and talking heads have mentioned it, but here, now, it's true."

Jeanne smiled to herself. She's done some growing since she first walked into a conference as a terrified post-graduate student. She's bringing everyone together now, at the end, just as she did at the beginning.

"The whole world," Stephanie bowed to the stands holding all the representatives of countries, "has come together like never before, to achieve something none of us could have imagined doing alone. This isn't the USS Carpathia, or the PRC Carpathia, or Her Majesty's Spaceship Carpathia. This is the United Earth Ship Carpathia, from every one of us to our stranded visitors in the sky."

As Stephanie paused, catching her breath, the representative from Italy began clapping, and suddenly the entire crowd was applauding, President Sacco as enthusiastically as any. Perhaps she didn't plan to stop there, but that was a perfect pause.

Dr. Bronson stood quietly, an embarrassed smile on her face, and waited for the clapping and cheers to die down. "Thank you," she said, and her voice might have shaken just a touch. "Thank you – all of you – for everything.

"The antimatter," she gestured to the approaching white truck, "will be loaded –"

The truck detonated.

At a distance of over three hundred meters, it was momentarily a silent scene, a flash of dazzling light and smoke that wiped the antimatter tanker out of existence, cast its four escorts aside like a child sweeping blocks off a table. Jeanne's stunned perceptions saw a hint of distortion, a flicker of motion that disturbed the dust along the roadway in the second before the sound and shockwave struck them.

It was a swift thundercrack of sound, KA-WHOOM!, and a blow to the body that staggered everyone on the stands. A red-orange fireball ascended, trailing fire and smoke, becoming an ominous mushroom shape. Antimatter explosion? A part of her asked, even as the other, still rational part, replied Don't be ridiculous!

Screams and curses echoed across the stands, as security teams began to close in. But there was no clear target of action, nor an immediate route to safety for most who were on the stands. The security detachments recognized the dilemma, and quickly began to direct the frightened and confused crowd, guiding them to exit the stands in an orderly fashion, as quickly as possible.

"Well, we'll have to be patient," Jeanne observed, keeping a grip on her own emotions. Can't afford panic. I'm the President. Everyone takes their cue from me. "We chose to be seated in the higher areas."

"Yes. Jesus I don't like this." Roger was scanning everywhere nervously.

That's an understatement. "Even if we planned for something like this, no." She glanced back to where the remnants of five vehicles were burning. Parts of the buildings around them were blown in, and smoldering as well.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a sudden movement, and something struck her in the side. There was a whipcrack of sound and she was falling, the sky blotted by something dark as she crashed painfully to the bleachers, agony spreading along her ribs, her head cracking painfully against the wooden supports.

The world was receding, but she thought there had been other gunshot sounds, and the ground heaved, shaking the bleachers beneath her, as pain rose in a red wave and crashed down in a black foam that wiped away awareness.

Well, THAT doesn't sound good at all.