that were constantly moving. I made an effort to overcome an instant dislike as Hari introduced him as Toms Tindarr. “Toms is the best asteroid mining boat pilot on the rim,” he concluded.
Tindarr grinned, a grin that looked somehow feral. Hiding my reluctance, I shook his hand. “’At’s right, Comm’dore,' he said in a grating voice. “Yer boys here called f’r th’ best, an’ ‘at’s me!”
I hoped that my greeting didn't sound as insincere as it was.
Hari noticed my dislike instantly. “C’mon, Toms,” He said hurriedly, “Let’s show the Commodore your pride and joy.”
The grin was back, looking if possible even more feral, but the man started off toward the hold eagerly. Hari hung back as we followed.
“I know the first impression he makes, Val,” he said quietly, “But he really is the best around; and I've seen no sign that his personality matches his appearance. Try to ignore his looks and give him a chance to show what he can do.”
If I was disturbed by the appearance of Toms Tindarr, I was appalled by the contents of the forward hold. It took a moment for my vision to adapt to the dimness of the interior of the hold, but it was just as well. Squatting in the center of the deck was the ugliest assemblage I’d ever seen. It looked as though someone had gathered bits and pieces of various vehicles, and just bolted them together haphazardly. There wasn’t even a perfunctory attempt at style or grace.
Hari strode up and patted its side familiarly. I hung back in case it fell apart at Hari’s touch. “Here we are,” Hari said, “A typical asteroid mining boat — well, as typical as they get. There are some pretty strange designs out there.” I looked to see if he was joking, but he seemed serious enough.
“There’s a pretty strange design in here,” I replied dryly. “You are joking, aren’t you?”
A strange, hurt look crossed Hari’s face, and I realized that he’d been serious. This… abomination was something he thought was important. Tindarr was glaring at me.
“Look, Hari,” I continued, trying to recover, “You’ve had some time with this thing, and have some familiarity with it. Maybe if you explain it to me, and why you think it’s so important, I’ll see the beauty in it, too.” However, I doubted it.
The boat was about 25 meters long, and some 15 in diameter, if you can use that term for something so irregular in shape. As I stared, some surfaces connected in my mind and I realized that the rear of the thing consisted of an inertial drive engine nearly the size of the one in the tramp, almost buried in fuel tanks. Sandwiched in the middle was what must be a large cockpit or small cabin. In front of the cockpit was a dizzying array of pipes and cables, jumbled into an apparently haphazard pile of varied shapes. I recognized the object at the extreme front of the thing, though. It’s hard to mistake a cruiser-sized laser for anything else.
Hari stepped back and considered the boat for a moment. Then he chuckled. “I forgot how they look at first glance. It isn’t until you appreciate the elegance of the engineering that they start to look good.”
I pointed to the rear of the thing. “Is that really an inertial drive engine back there? It's almost big enough to run this ship.”
Hari nodded. “Yes, both times. It’s an engine that's big enough for a small ship. After all, these things have to be able to push asteroids around. That's why they have this.” He patted the bizarre assemblage in front of the cockpit. “It’s a tractor/pressor generator,' he added.
“What? I’ve only seen those on large ships… and judging by the ones I’ve seen, I’d say this one is huge!”
Tindarr grinned. “How else would ye hang onter an asteroid t’push it around?”
Hari was flushed with excitement; he was like a child showing off a new toy. “See, the miners cruise the asteroid belt looking for suitable asteroids. When they find one, they nudge it into an orbit that’ll carry it in-system to an orbital or moon-based plant where the asteroid is processed into its component metals and minerals. So, they have huge engines, huge tractor/pressor generators and huge ballistic computers for computing the orbital deflections and delta-vee requirements. The cabin, on the other hand, has just enough room for a miner to get out of his suit. It’s amazing that they spend days in these tiny cabins before returning to a larger mother ship.”
Now that I was beginning to understand its layout, the thing didn't seem as ugly. Homely, yes, but Hari was right; from an engineering standpoint it was a thing of beauty. Amazing power in a remarkably compact package. There had to be a way to use them. “I noticed the laser,” I said, “You obviously have something in mind for them.”
Hari nodded. “The laser’s mounted on the centerline,” he said. “No fancy targeting system, just some calibrated crosshairs etched into the plas of the cockpit screen. You aim the boat to aim the laser. Actually,” he added, “That’s nothing new. They use laser-equipped boats at the orbital factories to chop the asteroids into chunks for processing. We also thought about a centerline-mounted mass driver. A boat could handle one fifty centimeters in diameter.”
I was beginning to get excited. “These things could be better fighters than strengl s! How much acceleration do they have?”
Both Hari and Tindarr grinned. “More than the pilot can take. This model is rated for 12g — with a robot pilot, of course.”
“Aye, I’ll show ‘ee!”
Tindarr reached into the maze of pipes and touched some hidden latch. The cockpit clamshelled open. He reached into the cockpit and retrieved a helmet, which he began to don. “We’uns put tergether a show f’r’ee, Commodore. G’wan up t’ye bridge, ‘n see what m’beauty c’n do!” Somehow, when he was talking about his craft, Tindarr’s face lost some of its ratlike appearance.
Hari led me out of the hold and toward the bridge. “As Toms said,” he told me, “We’ve arranged a demonstration. The Captain is launching Toms’ boat now.”
At the bridge hatch, Hari paused. “You’ll see, Val. Toms is amazing! Don’t prejudge him.” I promised I wouldn’t, and Hari led me onto the bridge and presented me to the Captain, Fors Lentarr.
Captain Lentarr explained that Toms Tindarr’s boat had been jettisoned, and that Tindarr was setting up on an attack vector while we retreated to a safe distance. He also told me that the target hulk had been pressurized with flammable gas at three atmospheres, and all airtight hatches had been dogged. “If we’re lucky,” He said, “We may be able to see some of the hits. If,” he added dryly, “You left any compartments unholed!”
The target hulk, magnified by the bridge screen, appeared stationary. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then a tiny splinter of light appeared in the corner of the screen. At an impossible speed, it shot toward the hulk. As Hari had said earlier, the laser’s beam wasn’t visible. When the captain increased the magnification of the hulk’s image, though, it sometimes became possible to detect a pinpoint of white where the beam hit the hull. Suddenly a white pinpoint slashed across the hull, and there was a flash as it apparently ignited the gases inside the ore carrier.
However, that wasn’t what I was watching. I was watching the boat. It was incredible. The thing flashed across the screen, firing as it came. As it passed the hulk, it seemed to slow at an incredible rate, and the laser again raked the old ore carrier. Its speed and maneuverability were incredible. The thing was actually corkscrewing around the target’s hull — literally running circles around it.
With a flare of fire, hulk's image split in half. The halves began to drift apart.
I stared at Hari, dumbfounded. He was just shaking his head. “I’ve seen it several times, but I still have trouble believing it,” he said.
I began to get angry. “It’s a trick! Hari, if you think…”
He gestured impatiently. “Oh, Val, it’s no trick! I grant you that it seems impossible for a vessel under human control to maneuver like that, but it is true!”
“But… But how can a ship maneuver like that? And how can a man stand those acceleration stresses?” I demanded, “And don't tell me you found room on that thing for gravity compensators.”
Hari and Captain Lentarr burst into laughter. “No. As far as the maneuvering capability is concerned, I was just as flabbergasted as you are until Toms explained. He uses the tractor and pressor beams. If he flips the tractor on for a fraction of a second as he's passing, he’s whipped around the target. If he uses the pressor for a split second, he’s slowed. Leave it on a fraction longer, and he’s kicked away.”
“And as for his tolerance of high g,” he continued, “It's just a mixture of drugs and a skinsuit-type space suit. Toms can tolerate over 8g without blacking out.”
Ideas began pouring forth from all of us as our excitement grew. Finally, I drew a deep breath and tried to
