The Stellar Death Plan (Masters of Space Book 1)

  THE STELLAR DEATH PLAN

  ROBERT E. VARDEMAN

  © Robert E. Vardeman 1979

  Robert E. Vardeman has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in 1987 by Avon Books.

  This edition published in 2017 by Venture Press, an imprint of Endeavour Press Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  For Mike Montgomery

  CHAPTER ONE

  The blare of the siren brought Barton Kinsolving out of a deep sleep. He had partially dressed before he came fully awake and had reached the door to his small house before he even realized he responded to the undulating warning.

  Thick, work-hardened fingers pressed shut the last fastener on his shirt as he dashed outside and into the compound. Already, harsh carbon-arc lights had come on all around.

  “What’s happened?” he yelled over the siren. A curly-haired woman shook her head. She appeared to be in a daze. Kinsolving cursed under his breath. This was the fourth time in as many weeks that the alarms had gone off. And each disaster deep within the bowels of the planet had been worse than the time before. Kinsolving hoped that this was only a short circuit, a false alarm, a mistake on a new recruit’s part that would give him something to rail against, then peacefully return to his bed and sleep without nightmares.

  His dark eyes focused on the rising plumes of bone-white smoke from the mouth of the distant mine shaft. The turbulent dust, sprinkled with flecks of mica that turned into artificial lightning bugs when the spotlight hit them, told the story. Kinsolving ran a hand through his hair and tried to calm himself. At this time of night it wasn’t likely that many humans would be deep within the rare earth mines.

  But what of the robot miners? Kinsolving cursed so loudly at the thought of losing another shift of the machines that several of his gathering coworkers edged away from him. He ignored them and ran to the control center.

  “Ala!” he cried. He stopped just inside the door and looked at the lovely woman seated behind the console. Some of the anger at his sorry fate faded. When Ala Markken was near, things always went better for Kinsolving. He knew that wasn’t strictly true, but it seemed that way and that was all that counted.

  “Glad you got here, Bart,” she said. Even mixed with the wail of the warning siren, her voice was level, low, sultry and exciting. “Stoop twenty-three went this time. Got a damp warning, then a gas release and … ” She shrugged her shoulders. Kinsolving forced himself to concentrate on the readouts rather than the brief flash of bare shoulder she gave him.

  He bent forward, frowning. A few minutes’ work on the computer gave him numbers that weren’t as bad as he’d expected — but were still far from pleasing.

  “The robominer in the stoop failed to detect moisture and drilled through into an artesian spring. That’s the only way it could have happened.” He sighed. This shouldn’t have happened. The robot sensory equipment was better than that — yet it had occurred.

  “What about the gas indication?” the brunette asked him. “I got a strong positive reading for methane.”

  Kinsolving shook his head and straightened. “I think the sensors shorted out when the water hit them. We’re going to have to drop a hose from number seventeen and pump out the water before we reopen.”

  “If we’re lucky, you mean. There’s no way to tell if the robot hit an underground river or just a trapped pocket of fossil water.”

  “There’s a way. Send down the fiber optic probe. Check the rate of water flowing through the stoop, use visuals, use IR if necessary to find the robo-miner and see if we can’t repair it by remotes, get it back online. You know the drill.”

  Ala turned and looked him squarely in the eye. “Bart,” she said softly, “the foptic probe equipment is gone. It was on twenty. Water’s already risen to nineteen.” She tapped the readout on the control console for emphasis. “We’re going to have to close three entire levels. Might even take more than that by the time we’re finished.”

  “Level nineteen!” Kinsolving yelled. He spun and thrust aside an empty chair to get to another computer console. A cold lump formed in the pit of his stomach when he saw that the storage bins had been lost. The lanthanite and gadolinite holding areas were gone. The rare earth oxide ores were separated on level nineteen, then transported to the surface once a week when the heavy-lifter robots were brought over from the other mine shaft.

  He had lost more than five days’ worth of output from the mine. Kinsolving reached over and pulled the chair toward him. He sank into it, the soft pneumatic wheezing of the chair adjusting to his burly frame equaling his own heavy sigh.

  “I’m going to find myself in a dole line back on Earth for this one,” he said. “Four years of good record, now this. Four major setbacks in as many weeks. I’m going to be fired and buried as deep as — as that robominer.” Kinsolving pointed toward the steady red light glaring at him from the console indicating a malfunctioning miner unit.

  “We’re almost three months behind production quota,” Ala told him. “The yields on the gandolinite and monazite haven’t been up to assay.”

  The woman’s fingers ran lightly over the panel until most of the red lights went out, replaced by blinking amber caution signals. This was all anyone could do until the mine was pumped and cleaned. She rose lithely and came to him, arms circling his neck. She held him close, her head resting next to his. Ala kissed his shoulder and turned her face slightly so that she looked around at him.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said. “The powers that be at IM know that. You’re a good engineer, Bart. A damned good one. They won’t fire you over this. It’s not your fault. The readouts will prove it.”

  “Mining is a dangerous profession,” Kinsolving said, resting his hand on Ala’s soft cheek. “But Humbolt made it clear that high production and no glitches were what he expected — or he’d replace me.”

  “Humbolt’s a fool. What does he know about fieldwork? He sits at a desk all day and makes pointless decisions.”

  “He might be a fool,” Kinsolving said, “but he’s still our boss.” Kinsolving swung around and let Ala sit on his lap. Her nearness usually pushed back the darkness he often felt, but this time his depression had plunged to too great a depth in his soul. Interstellar Materials held a ten-year lease to mine the rare earth oxides on this alien-held planet only through great diplomatic skill and immense fees paid on the precious 57-71 atomic number metals lifted from the surface. Barton Kinsolving had been drawn to IM because of the high salary — payable at the end of his contract — and the chance to leave Earth.

  To leave Earth. He almost snorted in disgust. Earthmen had heaved themselves out to the stars a century earlier only to find a dozen alien races already populating the nearby star systems. Humans were less than an oddity — they were an annoyance to the older, better established races. Worst of all for a
culture that had exhausted most of the resources of its planet, the juiciest plums had already been picked.

  Deepdig was one such plum. The humanoid Lorr had established colonies on the planet fifty years before the first primitive starships had warped the four point three light years from Earth orbit to Alphacent. In the council of stargoing races, this century and a half of habitation gave the Lorr full rights to the planet’s exploitation. Kinsolving had no idea what IM had promised the Lorr in exchange for the rare earth oxides, but he knew it had to be significant.

  Earth needed the gadolinium and cerium for optical glasses and the lanthanum for fiber optics. Most of all it needed the pink and green samarium salts for use in the stardrives. Without it, the star-spanning engines wouldn’t function reliably. And without a dependable stardrive, Earth would again be isolated and choking in its own debris.

  Kinsolving held Ala close, her warmth driving away some of the tenseness in his body and her scent making him feel things would work out.

  “I’ve got to go down into the mine,” he said at length. Reluctantly, he pushed her away.

  “You take this too personally, Bart,” she said. “Accidents happen.”

  He started to ask why she hadn’t picked up the robot’s sensor signal indicating water and turned off the unit, but he held back. Ala Markken was more than his lover, she was the best technician on his crew. Too many of the others had rotated through, going on to other jobs with Interstellar Materials.

  Ala had stayed for the full four years he had been here.

  Only her presence had saved his sanity. The Lorr inspectors were openly hostile, existing only to find minute violations of their intricate safety and lifting agreements. Humbolt came to Deepdig once a planetary year for on-site inspections. Ala placated him and acted as a buffer between corporate director and mine supervisor. For this alone, Kinsolving loved her.

  He stared at her soft brunette hair, her deep, penetrating eyes, the face that rivalled any tri-dee star’s. Ala Markken had been a minor functionary at IM’s headquarters on Gamma Tertius 4 before coming to Deepdig. He had always wondered why she had left the heart of corporate power and had asked her once, getting no real answer. Ala could have progressed far up the IM corporate structure by now if she’d remained at headquarters. But she had chosen to do fieldwork.

  Kinsolving was glad that she had. The four years at this mine would have been intolerable without her. And the past few months would have driven him to suicide.

  Robot miner breakdowns, lower grade ore than expected, now this major disaster.

  “All units are gone, Bart,” she said. “Why not order over the heavy-lifters from the other mine and work back down? The ore bins on level nineteen might be intact.”

  He shook his head. Kinsolving knew better than to hope for a miracle of this scale. “If the robot dug into a river, the surge would have scattered the ore and put the separated dust into collodial suspension. Who knows where it has washed to by now?”

  “No way to siphon off the water and distill it?”

  He didn’t laugh at her. Kinsolving knew that Ala’s knowledge of computers was without limit but her instincts about mining operations left something to be desired.

  “No way,” he said.

  “It’s not your fault. Not even Humbolt can blame you for the shoddy equipment they send out. It’s been malfunctioning for months and months. It’s a wonder that you’ve been able to hold it together.”

  “I know,” Kinsolving said. He frowned. When he had come to work on Deepdig only the finest robot equipment had been shipped to him. Why send broken-down units forty-nine light years from Gamma Tertius 4? Especially when the rare earths were so desperately needed by Earth? Kinsolving wondered if Humbolt — or someone at operations and supply on GT 4 — wasn’t siphoning off funds for the top of the line equipment and sending the cheapest robominers available.

  “What now?” Ala asked.

  “We follow the logged procedures. Call the Lorr-representative, get him out to investigate. I’ll send a message packet to Humbolt. He’ll probably want to drag his fat ass out here to personally fire me.”

  “Bart,” Ala chided gently.

  “All right, all right, no more self-pity. Get on the com-line and arrange for the Lorr agent. I’ll see if anything can be done down in the mine.”

  “Be careful,” Ala said. She bent and gave him a quick kiss.

  “For more of that, I’ll be damned careful,” he said, smiling a little.

  Ala Markken turned back to begin the report that would summon the Lorr. Kinsolving left the control center and shouted orders to his human workers as he walked to the mouth of the mine shaft. Seldom did humans enter the underground world of the rare earth mine. At the periphery of the hole stood a wide variety of computerized equipment, all the inputs funneled to Ala Markken in the control center.

  It didn’t surprise Kinsolving to find that no humans had been on duty at the shaft. As long as no trouble developed, Ala was capable of running the entire operation.

  “Who was scheduled to be on-site?” he asked. Kinsolving looked around the small circle of technicians. No one volunteered the information. “Garibaldi, check it out for me. Get the roster up and on a screen where I can see it.”

  The man tapped in the request. Kinsolving peered over his shoulder as the data emerged from the control computer. Kinsolving frowned and ran a hand through his sweat-lank hair at the answer.

  “Keep checking,” he said. “I don’t believe no one was scheduled to be out here.”

  “No one was, Mr. Kinsolving,” spoke up the curly-haired woman he had seen back in the compound. Nina Porchek pushed through the crowd. “I told Ala she’d missed posting anyone to oversee operations tonight but she said I didn’t know what I was talking about. If someone had been present, the robo-miner might have been shut down in time when its automatic cutoff failed.”

  Kinsolving frowned even more. Nina Porchek was a replacement for a transferred computer operator. Her interests lay more with promotion to a management post than mine output. She had seen Kinsolving’s attachment to Ala and had instantly resented the brunette. Kinsolving had little time for such politics.

  But he saw that Porchek was right. If an operator had been present at the mine shaft controls, this would have given another chance to shut down before such extensive damage occurred.

  “We’ve had too much equipment failure in the past few months,” Kinsolving said. “I want a full maintenance check of all circuits, plus a visual of all mechanicals.”

  Groans of protest rose.

  “Get to it now,” Kinsolving said, voice cold. “Section chiefs, I want detailed reports by dawn. The Lorr representative will accept no less. I’m not going to be the one to lose IM’s lease on Deepdig. Get to work. Now!” Kinsolving took no pleasure seeing the twenty hasten to their chores. He was left alone with his thoughts to stare down into the dark mouth of the shaft.

  The rising dust had settled. Straining, Kinsolving heard the deep, dangerous rumble of water eighteen hundred meters below. Level twenty-three, another forty meters deeper, would be impassable except by sophisticated rescue equipment — which he didn’t have.

  Kinsolving made a cursory examination of the monitoring equipment, then started down into the mine. Nina Porchek called out to him, “Mr. Kinsolving! You’re not supposed to go down alone! That’s against the rules!”

  “Give me your com-link. And get back to work.”

  “But the safety regs say — ”

  “Back to work,” he snapped. He was in no mood to argue over such trivial matters with a power-hungry underling. Kinsolving took her com-link and switched it to central control frequency. He flipped the Attention toggle until Ala Markken answered.

  “Ala, this is Bart. I’m going to look around a bit down in the mine shaft.”

  “No, wait, Bart, wait!”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, angry that she would duplicate Porchek’s objection. “Kinsolving, out.” He sav
agely thumbed off the unit. The flashing red indicator showed that Ala tried to reach him. He kept the sound off. Let it record and nothing more, he decided. The com-link’s optical and audio sensors would pick up much that he missed with a visual inspection.

  Swinging down the steps two at a time brought him to level one. Kinsolving took the time to put on a heavy respirator. In spite of his feeling that only water had invaded the lowest levels of the mine, Ala had gotten a transient indication of gas. The com-link would warn him of unsafe air, but Kinsolving preferred to avoid the chance of a microburst of methane rendering him unconscious for even a few seconds. Such might prove deadly in a mine inoperative due to disaster.

  He found a hand flash and shone the brilliant light along the equipment shaft. Kinsolving saw nothing amiss; he descended to the next level. He wished that he dared use the elevator but as long as the water boiled at level nineteen, it was more prudent to leave off any electrical power to avoid further equipment damage.

  He smiled ruefully. He worried about equipment damage more than electrocution. Being supervisor for four years had given him a skewed picture of safety, at least for himself. Better to risk himself than either other human personnel or the increasingly precious robot mining equipment.

  Kinsolving found the emergency ladder at the side of the shaft. He turned the flash down into the depths of the stygian cavern and shuddered. The light failed to pick out the raging torrent of water far below — but he heard its hellish din. Only luck would keep him from losing another level to the rising underground river.

  Carefully descending, Kinsolving checked the readouts at every level, both on the permanently mounted equipment and on his com-link. Temperature rose, atmosphere remained breathable although he kept his respirator on, the automated mining equipment worked independently and well. Kinsolving shook his head. It was always this way, it seemed. The levels with the lowest grade ores had the least problems. As he continued on his way down past the fifth level, Kinsolving felt a shivering in the ladder’s plastic rungs.