Earth Vs. Aliens (Aliens Series 1) by T. Jackson King Page A

computer come up with an approach vector to comet Karla that keeps us in radar shadow?”
    Denise nodded. “Yup.” She touched on the front screen, then tapped the Astrophysics control arm to display their approach trajectory and adjacent bodies. “Karla shapes out at 175 kilometers in size, a bit smaller than Smiley, but it is orbited by a small satellite. The way Dactyl orbits 243 Ida in the Asteroid Belt. Anyway, last century they named it Mole, like the mole on your cheek,” she said, teasing him.
    He blushed. Denise’s good looks, bright humor and irrepressible optimism had gotten to both him and Max. Romance wasn’t the cause. She’d come to mean too much to them and neither wanted her to die young. “Now I see why Hortie chose to mentor you—you’re a delight to have around.” The mention of Hortie made Denise frown worriedly. “Sorry.” He gestured at the front screen. “Ready to offload the Lander?”
    “Yes, we are,” Max interjected from the rear, “and she did a good job on that NavTrack program.” The Engineer’s compliment brought a smile to Denise’s young face. “The Lander’s Auto-Pilot is set for an open approach to Karla, the ball-bearings are on-board, and why do I have to sit back here?”
    Denise chuckled. “Because, good Max, the Engineer always sits at the back of the Hopper bus.”
    “You’re too smart!” Max said with a chuckle.
    Jack valued his friend’s release from depression over the death of Monique. But their luck in avoiding Swarm detection would not last forever. “Max, launch the Lander. And let it drift away from our vector for awhile before keying it to Thrust mode. I want us to be behind Mole before the Swarm sees our Lander and decides to look around for other ships.”
    “Launching.” Max hummed low, but pleasantly, as if he enjoyed the engineering challenge involved in a delayed start of the Lander’s Auto-Pilot computer. “In one hour, without any deceleration, the Lander will be a thousand kilometers from Mole and heading for a near approach to Karla.”
    “Jack,” Denise said tentatively, “we should make our final blip jump pretty soon, to set us up in the radar shadow of Mole. Like about now. You ready?”
    He glanced at the NavTrack panel that faced his Pilot seat. “Ready. Parameters are laid in. We’ll approach at high delta vee, using the gravity-pull drive, flip over, then decel abruptly using the Main Drive. You ready for four gees of thrust-weight?”
    “Yah.” Denise scrunched down in her seat, as if that would make her more comfortable. “Ready to feel squashed.”
    Squashed was right. Jack looked back at Max. The man’s rad-tanned face twisted into a wry grin. “Well, Jack, I may have to sit in the back of this Hopper, but you two are going to learn what high-gee decel feels like. Activate your seat restraints, please.”
    “Yes, boss.” Jack looked forward, laid his head against the seat’s neck support, tapped the High Gee support control, and suddenly felt smothered in a pile of pillows.
    “Oh,” Max said lightly, “I forgot to tell you—the decel at four gees will last six minutes but feel like forever.”
    “Max!” complained Denise.
    “Blipping!” called out their Engineer.
    Ahead on the screen, the starfield blurred, blurred again and again in a series of sequential uses of the drive to pull them ahead on their approach to the backside of Mole. Then the blur of the starfield shifting in and out of focus became a constant blur as the graviton field, alternating like the frames of an oldstyle celluloid film, dragged along the Uhuru . Would the structural support weldings they’d done inside Uhuru stand up to the gravity-pull stresses? Jack felt sick suddenly, but not from the field effect. He felt sick due to the imminent possibility they might all die, quite soon.
    “It’s okay,” Denise murmured near him, her form also enveloped in high-gee pillows that fluffed out from her Astrophysics station seat. “I’m