Chapter 13

“Throttle up to seventy five percent,” said Berserker Control. The glow from the exhausts of the N-52 engines intensified and Alan was sure he could see faint but powerful flames extending from the fourteen engines. He looked up at the hulking SS Peake, the freighter that’s been their home, their workshop, and their carrier. Its marker lights glowed gently against the darkness of space. The sun, a tiny dot, pumped unimaginable amounts of power out through photons and other forms of radiation into space, but it looked so small! In six weeks, Mars will be at its closest point to them right now, and hopefully they’ll be there to meet it.

A radio call broke Alan out of his revery. “One meter!” called Berserker control. It’s moving! The moonlet is now one meter closer to Mars than when they started. They were the first persons ever to move a natural object out of its orbit. “Five meters!”

Alan could feel the excitement well up inside of him. It was happening! He could barely contain the excitement in his voice when he said, “How does it look Master Chief?”

The chief engineer on the project, Master Chief White, responded with, “Everything is stable, we’re good for one hundred percent.”

“Throttle up to one hundred percent,” said Berserker Control. Again, the intensity of the engine’s exhaust increased, the glow from the exhausts was nearly blinding.

“Berserker two, get ready to skedaddle,” Alan called to Pandora. These months in space, far from home, were coming down to the last test.

“Five hundred meters,” called Berserker control. “All engines are nominal.”

Half a kilometer! They moved a moon half a kilometer! But it could be all for naught. “Berserker control, Berserker one. Kill the engines.”

“Throttle to zero,” called control. The bright glow disappeared. This was where the N-52 engines were reported to explode, when their throttle was cut quickly after a heavy load. Is there a heavier load than moving a moon? “All engines quiet,” said Berserker Control. “All indications nominal.”

“Thank you control. Master Chief? These are your babies, how are they doing?” asked Alan.

The chief looked up from his screen, and his fellow engineers were grinning at him. They all told him that their systems were in good shape by giving him a thumbs up. “Everything is perfect,” said Chief White with a father’s pride. “They can do this for a year.”

“We only need six more weeks,” said Alan. “Berserker Control, you are clear to continue.”

“Aye aye, sir!” called control. Alan and Pandora watched as the engines re-lit. Without a problem, all fourteen engines came up to one hundred percent. Where did the bad reputation of the N-52 come from, Alan wondered.

“One kilometer,” counted Berserker control. It was boring, but Alan and Pandora sat in their fighters at a safe distance but close enough to see how the motors were working. Cameras on the nose of their fighters recorded every moment of the launch.

“Two kilometers.” Now Alan could tell there was movement. Stars moved behind Big Berserker, stars that weren’t moving ten minutes ago.

“Three kilometers!” called Berserker control. They had moved a moon its own length out of orbit! Big Berserker was flying under their control!

“Berserker one to all men and women of Berserker project, congratulations! You are the first people ever to move a celestial object. Next stop, Jezero Lake!”

The two fighters returned to the SS Peake docking at almost the same time, and as they climbed out of their cockpits, the captain of the SS Peake began the long, slow process of accelerating to keep up with Big Berserker. By the time they were out of their environment suits and into flight suits, they were up to 0.2G of acceleration and had ‘gravity’ for the first time in months.

Soon those champagne corks popped, and they could drink out of a glass instead of a squeeze tube. They cheered and clapped, congratulating each other until finally the new Strike Force Berserkers began chanting “Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech!”

“They want you to give them a speech,” whispered Pandora. The last time he gave a speech, everyone ended up dead. How can you give a speech with that hanging over your head?

In the end Alan shrugged his shoulders, almost launching the champagne out of his glass, then said, “I asked you guys to do the impossible, and you did it. What more could I possibly say?”

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For two weeks the flight schedule was fairly simple, sixteen hours of five G acceleration, followed by eight hours of rest at 0.5g so the crew wouldn’t have to be sedated like when they flew out to Saturn. After that, the Big Berserker was up to the speed they want it to coast at and they could coast for a while. Planetary alignment made the outbound flight to Saturn nearly three times longer than the inbound flight to Mars, and shortly after crossing the Jupiter orbital plane they sent the following message to Mars Central Communications, unencrypted on an open channel.