Frowning at the displays, Harbin saw that one of his propellant tanks had been ruptured. He looked up at Starpower hanging out there and saw the big hatch of the ship’s cargo bay was open. They must have a laser in there, probably a cutting laser they use for mining. And they’re shooting at me with it.
He maneuvered Shanidar away from the open cargo hatch while checking his ship’s systems. Fortunately, the propellant tank they holed was almost empty anyway. Harbin could afford to jettison it. Yet as he did, he began to worry that they might hit remaining tanks before he had the chance to finish them off.
Staring at the dumbbell shape of Starpower rotating slowly against the distant, uncaring stars, Harbin’s chiseled features twisted into a cruel smile.
“Kill or be killed,” he whispered to himself.
CHAPTER 30
It took only a few days of running Helvetia Ltd. by herself for Amanda to come to the conclusion that she didn’t need to hire a replacement for Niles Ripley. I can do the systems management job myself, she realized.
With the habitat more than halfway finished, what was needed was a general overseer, a straw boss who understood the various engineering fields that contributed to the ongoing construction program. Amanda had learned a good deal of the technical skills in her training and experience as an astronaut. The only question in her mind was whether she had the strength, the backbone, to boss a gaggle of construction technicians.
Most of them were men, and most of the men were young and full of testosterone. In general, men outnumbered women in Ceres by six to one. The balance on the construction project actually was better: three men to each woman on the team, Amanda saw as she carefully reviewed the personnel files.
Sitting at her desk, she thought, If Lars were here there would be no problem. But if Lars were here he would take over the task, or hire someone to do it. Shaking her head, Amanda told herself, It’s up to you, old girl. You’ve got to do this for Lars, for all the people living here in Ceres.
Looking into the mirror over the dresser of their one-room quarters, Amanda realized, No. Not merely for them. You’ve got to do this for yourself.
She got to her feet and surveyed herself in the mirror. It’s the same old problem: the men will see me as a sex object and the women will see me as competition. That has some advantages, of course, but in this case the drawbacks outweigh the advantages. Time for baggy sweaters and shapeless slacks. Minimal makeup and keep your hair pinned up.
I can do it, she told herself. I can make Lars proud of what I accomplish.
She set a goal for herself: I’ll handle this project so well that when Lars returns he’ll want me to stay with it to completion.
Despite her best control, though, she could not avoid hearing a fearful voice in her mind that said, if Lars returns.
“He’s coming closer!” Nodon shouted.
Wincing inside his bubble helmet, George hollered, “I can see that! And I can fookin’ hear you, too. No need to yell.”
The two spacesuited men tugged at the big aiming mirrors of the cutting laser, clumsy in their suits as they tried to slew the coupled pair of copper slabs on their mounting. The mirror assembly moved smoothly enough; pointing it precisely was the problem. It had been designed for slicing ore samples out of asteroids, not hitting pinpoint targets that were moving.
“Lars, you’ve gotta rotate us so we can keep ‘im in our sights,” George called to the bridge.
“I’m doing my best,” Fuchs snapped. “I’ve got to do it all by hand. The steering program wasn’t designed for this.”
George tried to squint along the output mirrors’ focusing sight and bumped the curving front of his helmet against the device. Cursing fluently, he sighted the laser as best he could.
“Hold us there,” he said to Fuchs. “Bastard’s coming straight at us now.”
“Tell me when to fire,” Nodon said, hunching over the control board.
“Now,” George said. “Fire away.”