Chapter 8

A spaceman opened a door on the wall of the Hangar, and Pandora looked. She was looking down at the spine entry hatch of the NSS Naha. “Thank you spaceman.”

“Welcome aboard ma’am.”

Estelle entered the warship first, then Pandora handed her the weightless children who were now squawking that they were hungry. Pandora grabbed the closest private and said, “Marine, this is our VIP transport. Please assist Mrs. Schirra with getting settled.”

“Yes ma’am,” said an annoyed Marine.

“She is the wife of Admiral Schirra and a personal friend of the President of Mars, you will make sure she’s well taken care of.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the unimpressed Marine.

“She’s my mother. Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the now terrified Marine.

Pandora stepped onto the bridge of the NSS Naha, which was quickly becoming her personal bomber, and was pleased to see that the Camp Schmitt’s pilot was still aboard.

“Attention on deck!” the chief of the boat, Master Gunnery Sergeant Vaneda, called out.

“Thank you gunny.” Pandora turned to the pilot. “You ready to take us back out?”

“Yes ma’am!” said the pilot, a navy lieutenant commander.

“Let’s go then. Exec, who do we have with us?”

“We have the NSS Lima nearby, and waiting for us at Mars is the NSS Krakow.”

“Thank you exec. Communications, send a message to the Lima to sortie to Saturn CXLII with all due haste and meet up with the SS Peake. Also, I want 601.5 Megahertz monitored at all times. Report any intelligible signal to me immediately.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Are you ready Mister Pilot? I need to go.” The Naha was stuck between the spokes of a giant wagon wheel, spinning slowly in the sky. Getting her free was the job of a professional.

The pilot tapped the joystick for the attitude thrusters a few times, then turned to Pandora. “We’re all lined up. Take her aft, nice and slow,” said the pilot.

“All back slow,” Pandora repeated. “Take her back five ship lengths.”

“Helm answering all back slow, ma’am.” Pandora listened for the sound of a strategic interplanetary bomber dragging against the space station, signaling the end of her career, but it never came. The pilot watched the approach radar carefully and, with minor adjustments on the attitude thrusters, the NSS Naha was clear and backing up. Finally, the helmsman said, “That’s five ship lengths, ma’am.”

“She’s all yours,” said the pilot.

“Thank you sir,” said Pandora and the pilot left. He had a scooter alongside the Naha to take him back to Camp Schmitt. They waited for the Pilot to enter the Escape Trunk, depressurize, then step off to his scooter.

“Pilot’s scooter is away,” said sonar.

“Navigator, set our course for Mars, best speed.”

“Aye aye ma’am.” The navigator bent over his workstation and plotted the course. “Course is set, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Sparks, extend the antenna.”

“Aye aye ma’am.” As the enormous ship pointed her bow to the course set, the huge dish antenna raised from its stowed position. For maneuvering close to a space station, the huge dish antenna was folded flat against the backbone of the Naha. The new antenna was able to fold down around the sides of the Naha as well.

“Ma’am, antenna array is up and locked, initiating standard sweep of the radio spectrum.”