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"He'll have to be sober by—" Benden consulted his digital. "—0900 tomorrow or he'll be nauseous in takeoff, and I don't want to have to clean that up when we reach free-fall. Good evening and thank you, Chio, for such a magnificent meal," he added, and after Saraidh had also complimented the women, the Erica's complement left.
Kimmer looked none the worse for the drink the next morning as he and the others reported on time to board the Erica. Nev strapped them in, but Benden made a final check himself. The women were all red-eyed and Chio patently so nervous that Benden wondered if he should get Ni Morgana to give her a mild sedative.
At the exact second calculated by Lieutenant Zane, the Erica lifted from the plateau, blasting her way skyward, tail rockets blazing.
A fisherman, standing the dogwatch on his trawler off the coast of Fort Hold, saw the fiery trail, vivid against the gray eastern sky, and wondered at it. He followed the blazing lance of light until it was no longer visible. He wondered what it was, but his more immediate concern was keeping warm and wondering if the cook had made klah by now and could he get a cup.
"The roll rate's too low!" Benden cried over the roar of the engines, exerting all his strength to keep the right attitude. "She's a slug!" Suddenly Benden realized that the Erica's reluctance could be caused by only one thing. "We've got too much weight on board. She's too bloody heavy through the yoke," he said through gritted teeth. He forced his head to look to his right at Nev, strapped in the copilot's seat. Ni Morgana was in the next row with Greene beside her, while the other marines stoically endured acceleration g-forces in makeshift couches. "I've got to increase thrust. And that's going to take one helluva lot of fuel."
Benden made the adjustments, swearing bitterly to himself over the expenditure of so much fuel. His calculations could not have been wrong. The gig was too far gone in its path to abort, and if they did, there was no way to contact the Amherst and arrange a new rendezvous. How in hell could she be so heavy?
"Nev, give me some figures on what this is costing us in fuel and the estimated weight we're lugging up."
"Aye, aye, sir," Nev said, slowly moving his hand in the g-force to activate the armrest pad.
Benden forced his head to the side so he could see the bright green numbers leap to the small screen.
"Twenty-one minutes five seconds of blast, sir, was what we should have needed," Nev replied, his voice genuinely strained. "We're bloody twenty-nine point twenty into flight and still not free! We're, uh, four-nine-five-point-five-six kilograms overweight! Free-fall in ten seconds!"
Ten seconds seemed half a year until they were suddenly weightless. Benden swore as he read the ominous position of the fuel gauge. Still cursing, he adjusted her yaw with burst of the port jets, swinging her nose toward the sun. He already knew that they hadn't enough fuel to make their scheduled rendezvous with the Amherst. And the cruiser would currently be in a communications shadow as it made its parabolic turn about Rukbat.
He called up Rukbat's system on the console monitor. There was no way they could use the second planet as a slingshot. But… He pulled at his lower lip. There was a chance they could make it to the first little burnt-out cinder of a planet. They would come awfully close to Rukbat, and even closer to the surface of Number One, in order to use its gravity well. That would save fuel. But they'd need a different rendezvous point—if they could get to the same point at the same time, at the same speed and heading in the same direction as the cruiser at some point earlier in her outbound hyperbolic orbit of Rukbat.
"Nev, figure me a slingshot course around the first planet." There was only the one option left to Benden.
"Aye, aye, sir." The ensign's voice was full of relief.
Then, in a taut hard voice, Ross shot out a second order. "Greene, bring me Kimmer. Tell the others to stay put."
He flipped open the harness release and let himself drift up out of the pilot's seat, trying to figure out just how Kimmer had managed to sneak 495.56 kilograms of whatever it was on board his ship. And when? Especially as the man had been under Bender's own watchful eye for over three days.
"Lieutenant," Nev said in an apologetic voice, "we can't make a slingshot around the first planet—not with the weight on board."
"Oh, we'll be lighter very soon, Nev," Benden replied with a malicious grin. "Four hundred ninety-five point fifty-six kilograms lighter. Figure a course with that weight loss."
"What I can't understand," Ni Morgana said in a flat voice, "is what they could have smuggled aboard. Or how?"
"What about your headaches, Saraidh?" Benden asked, seething with anger at Kimmer's duplicity. "And those catnaps no one else's had the guts to report to me."
"What could they possibly have done in ten or twenty minutes, Ross?" Ni Morgana demanded. "Nev and I searched for any possibly smuggled goods or tampering.
Benden pointedly said nothing and then scrubbed at his face in frustration. "Oh, it's no blame to you, Saraidh. Kimmer just outsmarted me, that's all. I thought removing him from Honshu would solve the problem." He raised his voice. "Vartry, you, Scag, and Hemlet will conduct a search the most unlikely places on this ship: the missile bins, the head, the i
Kimmer overhanded himself into the cabin then, a smile on his face for the fierce expressions on the three marines as they passed by.
"Kimmer, what did you get on board this ship and where is it, because we've got less than an hour to make a course correction, and thanks to you, we've lost too much fuel lifting the bird off Pern."
"I don't know what you mean, Lieutenant." Kimmer looked him squarely in the eye. "I was with you for three days. How could I have put something on board this vessel?"
"Stop stalling, man. It's your life you'll lose, as well."
"I'm flattered that you've asked my opinion, Lieutenant, but I'm sure you know better than I what equipment can be jettisoned to lighten her."
Benden stared him down, wondering at the malevolence in the gaze Kimmer returned. "You know what weight I'm referring to, and it was all put on at Honshu. If I don't know what that was, Kimmer, you'll be the first thing that lightens this gig's load."
Suddenly they all heard hysterical weeping from the stern, and Vartry propelled himself back into the cabin.
"Lieutenant, they started the minute I said we were going to search because the ship was overweight. They know something!"
As Benden hand-pushed himself deftly down the short companionway to the marines' quarters, the wailing rose to an eerie ululation that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
"Stow it!" Benden roared, but Chio's volume only increased. The others were not as loud, but they seemed just as distraught, plainly terrified and far too hysterical to reply to his demands for an explanation.
Ni Morgana arrived with the medical kit and injected Chio with a sedative that reduced the hysterics but had no effect when Benden questioned her, trying to keep his voice level and reasonable.
"They will not tell you what they have done," Shensu said, careering into the marines' quarters. Absently rubbing the arm he had bruised, he looked down at Chio. "She has always been dominated by him, and so have the others. If Kimmer can be made"—Shensu's voice was hard-edged with hatred—"to give them the necessary orders."
"I think Kimmer will explain, or take a long step out of a short airlock," Benden said, pushing past Shensu. There was no time for finesse or bluff with the Erica currently on an abortive course for the second planet. They had to make a correction soon—and do it without the excess weight, or they'd be beyond rescue. He'd have the truth if he had to space Kimmer and enough of the women to get one of them to tell him what he had to know.