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Authors: Christopher K Anderson
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times longer than the .4 configuration. The engineers refused to compromise the structural integrity of their ship any further and .4 was finally adopted.
The flight deck console blinked blue at Carter.
“Fully extended,” he responded.
“We have full extension.” Nelson turned to Carter. The next step was to spin the trusses using the Reaction Control System. “Proceed with spin.”
“Initiating RCS burn,” Carter announced as he punched the instructions on the keyboard to activate the miniature hydrazine-powered rockets located at the ends of the extensions.
The ship remained stationary as the two eighteen-meter extensions gradually achieved a speed of two revolutions per minute. The Russian craft possessed similar extensions, but was different in one notable respect. The entire ship spun, not just the extensions. Although the design was simpler to engineer, it had its own complications. Certain navigational and astronomical devices, such as telescopes, had to be spun in the opposite direction to avoid a constantly spinning image.
“Two rpms,” Carter announced.
“Houston, gravitational spin achieved, over.”
“Roger,
Liberty
. Congratulations, gentlemen. Godspeed and have a safe trip.”
D r. Takashi Satomura was seated on the floor with his legs crossed beneath him. He was studying a holographic chessboard that floated several centimeters from the ground. Miniature Russian soldiers, dressed in winter rags, stomped their boots to keep their feet warm as they glared across the board at their adversary, the French. Behind a line of foot soldiers, adorned in full military regalia with one hand tucked conspicuously inside his jacket, stood Napoleon and, beside him, his lovely wife Josephine. A royal purple evening gown flowed from her shoulders and fluttered delicately in the wind. She acknowledged Satomura’s gaze with an elegant curtsy. The French foot soldier several squares in front of her shook his bayonet at his opponents and spat in their direction to register his disgust. A Russian soldier yelled back profanities and soon the entire board was engaged in a violent shouting match.
“Quiet,” ordered Satomura.
The pieces stopped immediately and froze into tiny statues. Eventually, a few of the soldiers began to shuffle their feet impatiently. A restless knight reared back on his horse. The Czar carefully pulled out a gold watch connected to a fourteen-karat chain and held it at arm’s length. He motioned to Satomura to check the time.
“I know. I know,” Satomura replied. He looked up and down the board. He pulled on the stubbly hairs of his chin. He closed his eyes to concentrate. When they opened several minutes later they were bright and alive. He announced his move in a slow and deliberate voice.
“Queen to bishop two.”
“Ah,” Napoleon said. He pulled a map from his vest and rolled it out on the snow-covered ground in front of him. He studied the map carefully. It was a two-dimensional representation of the chessboard upon which he stood. Josephine bent over and whispered something in his ear. He waved her away. If he had wanted her advice, he would have asked. Moments later, he looked up at Satomura and smiled.
“Pawn takes pawn,” he ordered. He wiped the snow from a pair of leather binoculars, then peered through them to watch the ninth move.
The soldier in question unslung his rifle and readied his bayonet. He pointed it directly at the Russian soldier standing on the white square diagonal from him. The queen’s bishop’s pawn dropped to one knee and readied his gun. He aimed carefully and pulled the trigger as the French soldier charged. The rifle exploded violently in his hands, leaving a pair of bloodied stumps. He was blinded by the hot powder of the blast, and it was not until he attempted to rub his eyes that he realized he had lost his hands. He never saw the bayonet that pierced his heart. He screamed, then slowly faded away. The snow upon which he had stood was
The flight deck console blinked blue at Carter.
“Fully extended,” he responded.
“We have full extension.” Nelson turned to Carter. The next step was to spin the trusses using the Reaction Control System. “Proceed with spin.”
“Initiating RCS burn,” Carter announced as he punched the instructions on the keyboard to activate the miniature hydrazine-powered rockets located at the ends of the extensions.
The ship remained stationary as the two eighteen-meter extensions gradually achieved a speed of two revolutions per minute. The Russian craft possessed similar extensions, but was different in one notable respect. The entire ship spun, not just the extensions. Although the design was simpler to engineer, it had its own complications. Certain navigational and astronomical devices, such as telescopes, had to be spun in the opposite direction to avoid a constantly spinning image.
“Two rpms,” Carter announced.
“Houston, gravitational spin achieved, over.”
“Roger,
Liberty
. Congratulations, gentlemen. Godspeed and have a safe trip.”
D r. Takashi Satomura was seated on the floor with his legs crossed beneath him. He was studying a holographic chessboard that floated several centimeters from the ground. Miniature Russian soldiers, dressed in winter rags, stomped their boots to keep their feet warm as they glared across the board at their adversary, the French. Behind a line of foot soldiers, adorned in full military regalia with one hand tucked conspicuously inside his jacket, stood Napoleon and, beside him, his lovely wife Josephine. A royal purple evening gown flowed from her shoulders and fluttered delicately in the wind. She acknowledged Satomura’s gaze with an elegant curtsy. The French foot soldier several squares in front of her shook his bayonet at his opponents and spat in their direction to register his disgust. A Russian soldier yelled back profanities and soon the entire board was engaged in a violent shouting match.
“Quiet,” ordered Satomura.
The pieces stopped immediately and froze into tiny statues. Eventually, a few of the soldiers began to shuffle their feet impatiently. A restless knight reared back on his horse. The Czar carefully pulled out a gold watch connected to a fourteen-karat chain and held it at arm’s length. He motioned to Satomura to check the time.
“I know. I know,” Satomura replied. He looked up and down the board. He pulled on the stubbly hairs of his chin. He closed his eyes to concentrate. When they opened several minutes later they were bright and alive. He announced his move in a slow and deliberate voice.
“Queen to bishop two.”
“Ah,” Napoleon said. He pulled a map from his vest and rolled it out on the snow-covered ground in front of him. He studied the map carefully. It was a two-dimensional representation of the chessboard upon which he stood. Josephine bent over and whispered something in his ear. He waved her away. If he had wanted her advice, he would have asked. Moments later, he looked up at Satomura and smiled.
“Pawn takes pawn,” he ordered. He wiped the snow from a pair of leather binoculars, then peered through them to watch the ninth move.
The soldier in question unslung his rifle and readied his bayonet. He pointed it directly at the Russian soldier standing on the white square diagonal from him. The queen’s bishop’s pawn dropped to one knee and readied his gun. He aimed carefully and pulled the trigger as the French soldier charged. The rifle exploded violently in his hands, leaving a pair of bloodied stumps. He was blinded by the hot powder of the blast, and it was not until he attempted to rub his eyes that he realized he had lost his hands. He never saw the bayonet that pierced his heart. He screamed, then slowly faded away. The snow upon which he had stood was
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