Rachel the Warrior

Rachel the Warrior

Part Six

by G. Lawrence

In outer space without a driver's license

Recap: With the terrorist organization Nomad seeking to take control of nuclear missiles, Rachel has volunteered for a hazardous mission to an orbiting space station.

* * * * * *

Chapter Eleven

ORBITAL PLATFORMS

Colonel McKay opened the hatch accessing the platform's lower deck emergency portal. It wasn't a quick process, needing the station's compromised airlock time to acclimate. A voice came through on the intercom.

"Who's there? Who are you?" a woman asked.

"Colonel Jeremiah McKay, U.S. Space Command," McKay replied. "Hi, Linda. How's tricks?"

"We've had no notice of a relief mission," Lt. Colonel Linda Brundage answered, forty years old with short brownish blonde hair and tired green eyes.

"Was General St. Claire supposed to tell Nomad we were coming?" McKay asked.

"No, I guess not. Give us a second, we'll clear the entry," Linda offered.

Rachel and McKay heard activity above them. Instead of electronics operating the equipment, it was being done manually. The hatch rose up.

"I'll go first," McKay said, climbing from the capsule into the access shaft. Rachel saw dim lights above her and several people moving around.

"Hey, Linda. José. Kayla. Where's Alex?" McKay asked.

"He's on the command deck keeping an eye on the computers," Major José Martinez replied. The younger crew members were in their early thirties, looking nervous. Worn out. Each was wearing a different-colored space suit with open faceplates.

"Why are you here? What are your orders?" Captain Kayla Scarborough asked, her long black hair tied back in a ponytail.

"I'm here to help," McKay explained, emerging from the tube.

"We've tried everything, Colonel. Ground control has tried everything," Linda complained. "What do you expect to do?"

"I brought her," McKay replied, reaching down to help his passenger float up to the lower deck.

"What the fuck? It's Rachel Montgomery!" Kayla exclaimed.

"Wow, how did you get her?" Linda asked.

"Can you fix the station?" José wondered.

Rachel wasn't sure what to say. They looked hard-pressed. Scared. Filled with sudden expectations. She almost climbed back down into the capsule, but McKay pulled her out.

"Captain Rachel Harper, reporting for duty," Rachel said with a salute. The movement threw her off-balance. Being weightless was going to take practice.

"Friends, I think we need to give Rachel a breather," McKay recommended. "She's not an old pro like we are. Let's go to the crew module. Unwind a little, then you can give us your status reports."

Rachel was helped from the lower deck to a corridor near the middle of the space station. A hatch resembling a revolving door went into the rotating crew section where modest gravity asserted itself. Rachel was glad to see it had a lavatory. The instructions weren't complicated, but Kayla needed to help her out of the bulky suit.

The crew module had six sleeping chambers, a kitchen, a gym, and a lounge. The fourth crew member, Captain Alex Blanchet, came down from the command deck, Martinez taking his place. They changed into comfortable jumpsuits. Kayla made coffee, though Rachel would have preferred tea.

"I'm under orders from the President," McKay announced. "Rachel will try to regain control of the station, if that's possible. If not, we're to set the self-destruct and evacuate.

"That will be difficult, sir," Alex reported. "The only way we've been able to stop the deployment was to shut down the primary systems. We're at minimal power."

"And we need to stay alert," Linda explained. "Every few hours, they find a way to turn the systems back on. We keep someone at the controls 24/7 to turn them back off."

"The platform has less than twelve hours of life support," Kayla added. "Another three days, if we shelter in the shuttle. After that, we'll lose heat and oxygen. And there's no way to evac. We can't uncouple the shuttle without the orbital's power."

"The six of us aren't going to squeeze into that tiny capsule you came up in," Linda warned.

"Mission Control understands all of that. It's why we asked Rachel for help," McKay answered. "She invented the Level 12 matrix, and she has knowledge of this Level 13 Nomad is using. She might be able to find a solution."

All eyes turned to Rachel, who dropped her head. Her long brown hair covered most of her face. Her hands were clutched in her lap.

"Well?" Linda asked.

"Well what?" Rachel replied.

"What are you going to do about this?" Linda clarified.

"I don't know," Rachel confessed. "Nomad's ground-based mainframe is capable of overwhelming the signal strength produced by your platform. It will give them control once your power systems are restored. But Level 13's foundation is fundamentally compromised. The search functions and layering work against each other. This creates windows of opportunity to insert contradicting formulas. Level 13 will recognize the contradictions and rewrite them, given enough time. I just don't know how much time that will be."

"How much time do you think? A few hours? A few days?" Linda asked.

"Days? Oh, no. A few seconds. Maybe a minute, if we're lucky," Rachel answered.

"Then they'll have control again?" Alex said.

"Not if I keep rewriting the program," Rachel replied.

"You can do that?" Alex said.

"It will be hard," Rachel conceded.

The group grew quiet. Rachel's opinion was not grounds for optimism.

"Need food? A couple hours rest?" Linda asked. "These last forty-eight hours must have been hectic."

"I just got married," Rachel said. "Last night, I was honeymooning with my new husband. He's very handsome. If I could see your status reports, I'll know more in about an hour."

"The crew module is secure, but we're wearing our space suits on the command deck. In case there's an emergency," Kayla said. "Need help?"

"Yes, please. Getting in and out of that thing is such a nuisance," Rachel replied.

The platform's giant outer ring housed equipment, tools, power plants, storage and recycling systems. Designed for a staff of six, the capacity of their shuttlecraft, only four were on assignment. The command deck featured a large window with a spectacular view of Earth and the stars. Chairs bolted to the floor provided stability while they were working at the control panels. Rachel took the center seat, briefly studying the many darkened inputs.

"Main power is here," José explained. "These screens provide status, monitoring, and communications. If we turn the power back on, the countdown on the missiles resumes. It's that clock over there. There are six warbirds."

Rachel took out the tablet she'd brought from Houston, reviewing her notes. Then she looked over the report each crew member provided based on their areas of expertise. The process took several hours.

"Your life support is compromised because you can't channel enough power from the solar collectors to the batteries?" she asked.

"Yes. We've been stretching our resources for the last week," José said.

"We can fix that," Rachel suggested. She took off her gloves, poised her slender fingers over the control panel, and switched the power back on.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" José said in panic.

All of the monitors were suddenly back up, many flashing brightly. One station showed the six missile silos with the launch sequences counting down. Rachel worked quickly, inputting codes, overriding encryptions, and installing new formulas. After thirty seconds, she turned the power back off. The countdowns paused.

"Life Support is up and running," Kayla reported. "Water. Heat. Air. Power on the microwaves."

"I was able to give your batteries an extra eighty-four hours," Rachel said. "The next attempt will be riskier."

"What about the primary systems? The shuttlecraft?" McKay asked.

"There wasn't much I could do there," Rachel admitted. "It will take several minutes to circumvent Level 13's grip on the grid, and it won't take them long to take it back. The margin of error is very narrow."

"How narrow?" McKay pressed.

"Under two minutes," Rachel replied.

"At least you've bought us some time," Linda gratefully said.

"What's the next step?" José asked.

"I don't know. It took me three years to stabilize the Level 12 matrix," Rachel explained. "The U.S. government's Level 13 was never fully stabilized, and Nomad is using a clone cobbled together by hackers. All I know at the moment is that it's very powerful."

"Can you take a break? I think you need it," McKay advised.

"Yes, sir. That would be good," Rachel agreed.

All but José returned to the crew module. Rachel took a deep breath as she got free of the suit. It was growing tiresome. She noticed a galley.

"Who does the cooking?" she asked.

"Mostly prepared meals, but we have a few spices," Kayla said. "Not so good as an aircraft carrier, but better than field rations."

"Mind if I make dinner?" Rachel requested.

* * * * * *

Walsh got home a little after midnight, finding an RV in his driveway. A young black man was sitting in a chair between the vehicle and the garage, watching. Walsh gave Darnell a nod and knocked on the aluminum door.

"Yes, Mr. Harper?" McLane said.

"May I come in?" Walsh requested.

Twenty feet long with three bunks, a kitchen, and stocked with communications gear, the RV acted as a mobile headquarters. Cameras studying the neighborhood were monitoring for threats. It also had a small arsenal. McLane seated Walsh at the table and poured him a cup of coffee. Then waited.

"I owe you an apology. You, and your daughter," Walsh said. "The night you were here with Rachel, I resented it. Strangers parked on my street. Intruders. And the stories I'd heard about Rachel ... I'm just sorry. Very, very sorry. When I saw you walking her down the aisle, I finally got it. I'm not making any excuses."

Walsh reached out his hand. McLane took a long look at the man without reacting.

"Did she scan you?" McLane asked.

"Did she what?"

"Did Rachel stare at you real hard. Enough to take your breath away. Did her eyes seem to change color?"

"How did you know?"

"What did she say?"

"She said I need to grow up."

"Have you grown up?"

"Yes."

McLane shook Walsh's hand, giving it a firm grip.

The house was quiet when Walsh entered. He saw Tom and Virginia on the back porch, looking at the bay. Everyone else had turned in, but he doubted they were getting much sleep. He found a beer and went out on the patio.

"Walsh, you look like hell," Virginia said, jumping up to hug him.

"It's been a long day," he replied.

"Rachel?" Tom asked.

"She gave their life support a boost. Enough to give them extra time," Walsh reported. "I presume we have guests?"

"I asked Pam and her daughter to stay over," Virginia said. "And Rory's girlfriend is here, too."

"Her girlfriend?" Walsh inquired.

"Rory's gay girlfriend," Virginia clarified.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Tom asked.

"No, Son. After this, nothing is ever going to be a problem again."

It didn't take long for Harpers and Bensons to emerge from their rooms. Walsh was introduced to Dr. Ashley Wilkerson, a bit surprised to discover the tall, freckled redhead was a general practitioner working at the USC Medical Center. He gave her a warm hug, welcoming her to his home.

"No one should be worrying," Walsh said once the crowd settled down.

Eric was sitting with Rory and Ashley. Kevin was in the kitchen preparing snacks, giving his mother a break. Walsh saw that his wife and Pamela were growing close, often whispering confidentially.

"Did you talk to her?" Rory asked.

"No, nothing like that," Walsh said. "Nomad still thinks they're up against a bunch of bush-leaguers. If they knew we've recruited Joe DiMaggio, they'd be playing this a lot differently."

"Joe DiMaggio?" Ashley said.

"He was a Hall of Fame baseball player for the New York Yankees," Kevin said.

"Everyone knows who Joe DiMaggio is," Ashley replied. "But Rachel?"

"We're hoping she's a game changer," Walsh explained. "Folks, I've got to be honest. We were out of options. We knew it, and Nomad knew it. It was game over. At least now we have a fighting chance."

"Sounds like you've changed your tune, Dad," Eric smugly observed.

"Son, I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid," Walsh replied.

"If anyone can make the difference, it will be Rachel," Pamela hoped.

"What's been happening in the real world?" Walsh asked. "We've been so busy at Mission Control, we hardly get a chance to breathe."

"Oh, not much. Just worldwide panic and chaos," Tom said.

Walsh waited for the punchline, but there wasn't one.

"He's not kidding," Virginia said.

"You didn't know?" Tom questioned. "They're evacuating New York, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C."

"London and Berlin are targeted," Rory said. "New Delhi and Tokyo. Millions of people are running for their lives."

"China's scared, too," Eric added. "Nomad says if Premier Xiang betrays them, they'll be on the list."

"Nomad only has one friend," Pamela said. "Russia. And my sources say Nomad is holding back a missile to keep them in line."

"Your sources?" Virginia asked.

"Not to brag, but my cousin is head of the most powerful communications corporation in the world. There's nothing Sheila can't find out if she wants to," Pamela answered.

"Two months ago, that would have made me mad," Walsh said. "Now I'm grateful. Can't WHD's Level 12 do something about this renegade matrix?"

"Our techs say the operating parameters are fundamentally different," Pamela replied. "WHD is an interactive library. Level 13 is command and control. Rachel could have configured Level 12 that way, but she thought it was too dangerous."

"And it was," Kevin concluded.

"Rach is so far ahead of us," Rory said. "Years ahead. I wish the government had listened to her."

"They will the next time, if we get through this," Walsh hoped.

* * * * * *

"That was another great meal, Rachel. Thank you," Alex said. "I didn't know you could make a decent beef stew out of all that junk."

"Just the right ingredients, combined in the proper order, and heated at exactly the right temperature," Rachel said. "It works for baby food, too."

McKay and three of HEO-6's team members were gathered in the crew module comfortably dressed. Two had just woken up, and one was about to turn in. The fourth remained on the bridge, watching the controls.

"You have a baby, don't you?" Kayla inquired.

"He's not really a baby anymore. Danny will be three in September," Rachel replied. "He lives at Canby Place with his half-sister and half-brother. Lisa and Gabe are two and a half now. My new sister-in-law is pregnant, too. Samantha and William haven't even been married a year yet. Canby Place is going to look like a daycare center."

Kayla noticed a special light in Rachel's eyes when talking about her family. It hadn't occurred to her that a celebrity scientist like Rachel would be so centered on her home life.

"We're thankful for your help," Linda said. "If you hadn't arrived when you did, we'd be hunkered down in the shuttle wondering how to shake loose."

"That shuttle isn't shaking loose, Linda," McKay said. "We need to get the platform to drop it." The four of them looked at Rachel.

"I haven't discovered how to do that yet," Rachel said. "Not without releasing the missiles at the same time. But I'm working on it."

"If worse comes to worst, two of you can escape in the capsule. Draw straws or something," McKay offered.

"And who's going to fly it?" Alex asked. "Can't Nomad seize the guidance system the moment you turn it on?"

"Maybe Nomad will be preoccupied with something else?" McKay suggested.

"No. We all go or none," Linda decided. "We're still military. United States military. We don't cut and run on our brothers and sisters."

"Do you know what you're saying?" McKay warned.

"Better than you do, Jeremiah," Linda replied.

"We'll know in the morning," Rachel concluded with a yawn. "When is morning? How can you tell?"

"It's already morning. 0800," Linda said.

"I should get some sleep. Four hours will be enough," Rachel requested, getting up from the kitchen table.

"You've hardly been away from those control boards for two days. Take a few extra hours," Kayla recommended.

"I'll try. It's hard to sleep with so much to do," Rachel said, going into one of the empty compartments and closing the door.

"What do you think?" McKay whispered.

"She's doing everything that can be done, I just don't know if it's enough," Kayla answered. "The way those panels are locked up, whenever we make a move, it's unraveled within seconds. We're lucky they haven't been able to get ahead of us."

"They will eventually," Linda worried. "They have time, the power, and staff to make it happen. All we have is a tired woman and clueless ground teams."

"Nomad can't be that much better than our guys," McKay protested.

"They were the world's greatest hackers, roaming the planet causing trouble. Then they got their own country, and Russia to protect them," Alex said. "They had the first strike advantage, and now they have some nutjob calling the shots who wants to make a new world order. I don't think this is going to end well."

"Don't give up hope," Linda urged.

"I'm not giving up anything. Just saying the obvious," Alex replied.

"Rachel has been developing matrix systems since she was a sophomore at Harvard. Back then, no one even knew what that was," McKay reminded. "If she thinks there's a chance, we should believe her."

"She also has a reputation for a mental disorder," Alex pointed out. "People I know say she's crazy. How do we know if her meds are working?"

"I guess we don't," McKay conceded. "We'll need to have faith."

In the light-gravity bedchamber, Rachel was having trouble sleeping. The solution was increasingly apparent. Not a solution she wanted, but that wasn't up to her. The reports from down below were awful. Jammed highways. Swamped airports. People were getting hurt trying to flee the target areas, and some of them were children. Millions may not escape in time.

Is there something I could have done to prevent this? she wondered. She had the opportunity to destroy the government's Level 13 several years before, but it would have been illegal. She would have gone to prison. Would it have been worth it?

No, she thought. Mother always says that everything that happens in the world isn't my fault. People need to take responsibility for their own actions. Their own decisions. Just like she would need to take responsibility for hers.

The next morning, or afternoon, as the artificial time had it, Rachel donned the heavy silver space suit she'd brought from Houston, keeping the faceplate open. Kayla helped her find the most comfortable fit, having years of experience.

"Are you good?" Kayla asked.

"Yes, Kayla. Thank you," Rachel confirmed. The other crew members were suited, too. Thought to be necessary in the outer ring, where the life support systems were at risk. They left the crew module, transitioning to zero gravity on the command deck.

"This is the day decisions need to be made," McKay announced. "We can't maintain this platform much longer."

"I realize that, sir. I have a plan," Rachel said. "You need to prepare the shuttle. I've discovered a program that will allow it to detach without launching the missiles."

"We can't leave them intact. Nomad will get control, probably within hours," Linda warned.

"I have a plan for that, too," Rachel assured her. "Sequences will be implemented to destroy the platform before Nomad can launch the missiles."

"Are you sure?" José asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Rachel replied.

"These are high stakes," Alex doubted. "If you're wrong, entire cities will be destroyed."