LEVIATHAN WAKES

“That is the Earth science vessel Charles Lyell moving toward Eros at full burn. She’s accompanied by what we think is a Phantom-class escort ship.”

“The Roci’s Earth navy cousin,” Holden said.

“Well, the Phantom class is an older model, and largely relegated to rear-echelon assignments, but still more than a match for anything the OPA can quickly field,” Fred replied.

“Exactly the sort of ship that would be escorting science ships around, though,” Holden said. “How’d they get out there so quick? And why just the two of them?”

Fred backed the map up until it was a distant view of the entire solar system again.

“Dumb luck. The Lyell was returning to Earth from doing non-Belt asteroid mapping when it diverted course toward Eros. It was close; no one else was. Earth must have seen a chance to grab a sample while everyone else was figuring out what to do.”

Holden looked over at Naomi, but her face was unreadable. Miller was staring at him like an entomologist trying to figure out exactly where the pin went.

“So they know, then?” Holden said. “About Protogen and Eros?”

“We assume so,” Fred said.

“You want us to chase them away? I mean, I think we can, but that will only work until Earth can reroute a few more ships to back them up. We won’t be able to buy much time.”

Fred smiled.

“We won’t need much,” he said. “We have a plan.”

Holden nodded, waiting to hear it, but Fred sat down and leaned back in his chair. Miller stood up and changed the view on the screen to a close-up of the surface of Eros.

Now we get to find out why Fred is keeping this jackal around, Holden thought, but said nothing.

Miller pointed at the picture of Eros.

“Eros is an old station. Lots of redundancy. Lot of holes in her skin, mostly small maintenance airlocks,” the former detective said. “The big docks are in five main clusters around the station. We’re looking at sending six supply freighters to Eros, along with the Rocinante. The Roci keeps the science vessel from landing, and the freighters secure themselves to the station, one at each docking cluster.”

“You’re sending people in?” Holden said.

“Not in,” Miller replied. “Just on. Surface work. Anyway, the sixth freighter evacuates the crews once the others are docked. Each abandoned freighter will have a couple dozen high-yield fusion warheads wired to the ship’s proximity detectors. Anything tries to land at the docks, and there’s a few-hundred-megaton fusion explosion. It should be enough to take out the approaching ship, but even if it doesn’t, the docks will be too slagged to land at.”

Naomi cleared her throat. “Uh, the UN and Mars both have bomb squads. They’ll figure out how to get past your booby traps.”

“Given enough time,” Fred agreed.

Miller continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

“The bombs are just a second line of deterrence. Rocinante first, bombs second. We’re trying to buy Fred’s people enough time to prep the Nauvoo.”

“The Nauvoo?” Holden said, and half a breath later, Naomi whistled low. Miller nodded to her almost as if he were accepting applause.

“The Nauvoo’s launching in a long parabolic course, building up speed. It’ll hit Eros at a velocity and angle calculated to knock Eros toward the sun. Set off the bombs too. Between the impact energy and the fusion warheads, we figure the surface of Eros’ll be hot and radioactive enough to cook anything that tries to land until it’s too damn late,” Miller finished, then sat back down. He looked up as if he was waiting for reactions.

“This was your idea?” Holden asked Miller.

“Nauvoo part was. But we didn’t know about the Lyell when we first talked about it. The booby trap thing’s kind of improvised. I think it’ll work, though. Buy us enough time.”

“I agree,” Holden said. “We need to keep Eros out of anyone’s hands, and I can’t think of a better way to do it. We’re in. We’ll shoo the science ship away while you do your work.”

Fred leaned forward in his chair with a creak and said, “I knew you’d be on board. Miller was more skeptical.”

“Throwing a million people into the sun seemed like something you might balk at,” the detective said with a humorless grin.

“There’s nothing human left on that station. What’s your part in all of this? You armchair quarterbacking now?”

It came out nastier than he’d intended, but Miller didn’t appear offended.

“I’ll be coordinating security.”

“Security? Why will they need security?”

Miller smiled. All his smiles looked like he was hearing a good joke at a funeral.

“In case something crawls out of an airlock, tries to thumb a ride,” he said.

Holden frowned. “I don’t like to think those things can get around in vacuum. I don’t like that idea at all.”

“Once we bring the surface temp of Eros up to a nice balmy ten thousand degrees, I’m thinking it won’t matter much,” Miller replied. “Until then, best be safe.”

Holden found himself wishing he shared the detective’s confidence.

“What are the odds the impact and detonations just break Eros into a million pieces and scatter them all over the solar system?” Naomi asked.

“Fred’s got some of his best engineers calculating everything to the last decimal to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Miller replied. “Tycho helped build Eros in the first place. They’ve got the blueprints.”

“So,” said Fred. “Let’s deal with the last bit of business.”

Holden waited.

“You still have the protomolecule,” Fred said.

Holden nodded again. “And?”

“And,” replied Fred. “And the last time we sent you out, your ship was almost wrecked. Once Eros has been nuked, it will be the only confirmed sample around, outside of what might still be on Phoebe. I can’t find any reason to let you keep it. I want it to remain here on Tycho when you go.”

Holden stood up, shaking his head.

“I like you, Fred, but I’m not handing that stuff over to anyone who might see it as a bargaining chip.”

“I don’t think you have a lot of-” Fred started, but Holden held up a finger and cut him off. While Fred stared at him in surprise, he grabbed his terminal and opened the crew channel.

“Alex, Amos, either of you on the ship?”

“I’m here,” Amos said a second later. “Finishing up some-”

“Lock it down,” Holden said over him. “Right now. Seal it up. If I don’t call you in an hour, or if anyone other than me tries to board, leave the dock and fly away from Tycho at best possible speed. Direction is your choice. Shoot your way free if you have to. Read me?”

“Loud and clear, Cap,” Amos said. If Holden had asked him to get a cup of coffee, Amos would have sounded exactly the same.

Fred was still staring at him incredulously.

“Don’t force this issue, Fred,” Holden said.

“If you think you can threaten me, you’re mistaken,” Fred said, his voice flat and frightening.

Miller laughed.

“Something funny?” Fred said.

“That wasn’t a threat,” Miller replied.

“No? What would you call it?”