Free The Krone Experiment by J. Craig Wheeler Page B

the other. That’s the
end pointed Earthward now. It’s got these four weird stubby wings.
They stick out about two meters, and run the length of the
cylinder, equally spaced around the circumference. I guess they’re
what we’re supposed to lop off to get the thing in the cargo bay.
The whole thing is rotating once about every, oh, ten seconds. I
can make out thruster nozzles. There are four pairs of them at each
end, midway between the wings. Each of the pair points in opposite
directions along the circumference of the hull. There are a number
of small ports and one big one, maybe a meter across, halfway along
the cylinder between two of the wings.”
    Jupp was silent for a moment, watching the
dark maw swing across his field of view. “I guess that must be the
laser.”
    When Jupp saw the Cosmos disappear above the
cockpit window, he hit reverse thrust and stopped, hovering just
beneath it. He spoke into the microphone.
    “Colonel, there it is. Good luck.”
    “I’m sorry, Major.” The voice was ice. “I
can’t see it. You’ve got the mirror in the way.”
    “Christ!” thought Jupp. “Larry, can you move
that boom on toward the tail?”
    Wahlquist had not released his grip on the
controls. Jupp strained to look through the overhead cockpit
windows.
    “Good, that’s it,” he said crisply when the
boom was pointed at a forty-five degree angle toward the tail. He
leaned over and worked the controls of the camera on the boom until
he could see the Cosmos clearly on the monitor. They were drifting
just slightly. He brushed a thruster to give a small opposing
acceleration. Eleven minutes since the last shot from Cosmos.
    A small figure appeared on the monitor,
heading slowly but directly toward the antenna on the lower spin
axis. A white plume shot briefly from the top of the backpack, then
a shorter blast. The figure hovered next to the projecting antenna
just below the spinning base of the Cosmos. An arm reached back and
unsnapped a tool from the side of the pack. In a moment a torch
flared brightly and was applied to the base of the antenna. The
antenna fell free and drifted off.
    “That should prevent any control commands,”
came the voice over the radio.
    “He just cut the radio antenna off the
bottom,” Jupp informed Wahlquist.
    “Now what’s he doing?” Wahlquist’s voice
betrayed his fear and frustration.
    “He’s got the torch on again. He’s holding it
up to the bottom about eighteen inches from the center. I’ll be
damned. He’s using the rotation as if the thing were on a lathe.
Cutting a circle as slick as can be. I guess he’ll try to cut a
hole and then get inside to disable it.”
    “Wait a minute!” The pattern shifted,
drifting. The torch went out.
    “What is it!” shouted Wahlquist.
    “Major!” came the curt command. “This thing
is still alive. Must be an internal antenna. It’s changing its
pitch. Get your craft the hell out of the way!”
    Jupp hit a thruster and backed the shuttle
away and down. When it was in his line of sight again he could see
the rhythmic puffs from its thrusters and see that the laser portal
had already been slightly tilted down toward him. He began a
frenzied game with the control thrusters, monitoring the Cosmos and
keeping the shuttle out of the rotating, sweeping aim of the laser.
He was not too busy to marvel at the actions of the diminutive
figure that hovered around the massive contraption.
    He watched the figure maneuver to the
perimeter of the base of the Cosmos. An arm snaked out.
    “What’s he doing?” Jupp narrated to
Wahlquist. “Slapping at it? My god, no! He grabbed it! He grabbed
the nozzle of the thruster!” The figure was suddenly whipping
around with the Cosmos, feet flung outward by the centrifugal
force.
    “He’s got a hand on it, but I don’t now if he
can hold on. If he loses his grip and it slings him off, we may not
get him back.” A burst of white exhaust came from the thruster.
“Damn! There it goes again!