Wills had to stop and think about that, “Hmmm . . . the cargo ships should be good for a thousand each, the passenger ship maybe another eight hundred, say about another five hundred between the Streak and the patrol ships; a bit over three thousand between them. However, the big problem will be the Weasel at around 250,000 or thereabouts.”
A feeling of depression went through him, “That’s still only half their known population if we don’t have time for a second trip; doesn’t sound like much, does it?”
Copeland waved a hand at him, “It’s worse than that, sir. The interior of the Weasel has been highly modified; we might get about 100,000 aboard.”
He turned to face her, “What, we’ve lost over half its capacity?”
“Yes, sir; the Berlin’s reactors are huge and required both room and massive structural reinforcement at the midline level; all of the passenger decking from just below midline up to the crew decks was removed. What remains are the cargo decks and fourteen passenger decks.”
It was bad enough before he heard that; now it seemed like all of this effort was useless. Wills closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“Alright, whatever; Erica, we will need some form of housing for however many we manage to rescue from Forest. You will be in charge of moving them to those areas. To help you, I am going to authorize activation of the T8 project on a crash basis and assign the Marine detachment to you.”
As he said that, the door opened and a short, solidly built, middle-aged man walked in; he was dressed in work clothes and had a red hardhat under his arm.
Wills put out his hand, “Benais Salmond, it’s been a couple of months since I last saw you.”
“It has Admiral; you should drop in at the Engineers Hall more often.”
Benais nodded to the Police Commander, “Good morning Erica.”
“What can I do for you, Admiral? I assume it has to do with the activation of Article Six.”
“It does; in two to three weeks there will be refugees from Forest arriving and they will need housing. I want you to transform the T8 project into something that they can use. Pull the data from the file system, and see what you can do to build something that resembles their habitats. You can expect 100,000 of them and you don’t have much time. You are authorized to acquire any equipment, supplies, and assistance that you need which are reasonably available. If you need any help convincing anyone to cooperate with you, I am placing Erica in charge of civilian activities while Commander Copeland and I are on Forest. This construction operation has the highest priority; any questions?”
“Two weeks, huh?”
“’Fraid so.”
Salmond turned and headed for the door; he put his hardhat on and waved a hand over his head, “It will be done.”
They watched him disappear through the door. Wills turned to face Erica again, “I wish I had his confidence. I was beginning to think this day would never come; now that it has I feel like everything I do will be so ineffective as to be a well planned joke.”
She looked up at him, “What you do will be all that you can do; it will be all that can be done, and it will be greater than the nothing that would have been done if we were not here.”
“Erica, your philosophy is correct, but right now I need a couple of unmodified Weasels.”
The door opened again and Captain Ellias Helt walked in; the tall, thin Maintenance Operations Director stopped in front of Wills and saluted.
“Well, Admiral, that day has arrived.”
Wills nodded, “Ellias, I need the Weasel; please tell me you can get it ready by tomorrow.”
Captain Helt smiled, “It will be ready in no more than twelve hours; as soon as I heard your announcement I called everyone in and started final prep work and provisioning. The interior is not pretty in many places, but all flight systems and life-support are operational. We were about to begin work on the lift ring and had all the sheathing removed. Right now, I have a dozen people going over the ring millimeter by millimeter checking for problems.”
He put his hands in the pockets of his coveralls and changed mental gears, “You know Wills, The last fifteen years has had far more times when the Weasel was not operational. To catch it at the end of all major aspects of the project and just days before we pulled the last major system down for reman is . . . hmmm.”
He smiled again and gave Wills a calculating look, “Do you believe in God?”
That was an unexpected question, “Ahh . . . no!”
“Do you believe in luck?”
“No!”
“Do you believe in coincidence?”
“No!”
“Do you believe in Fate?”
“Nooo . . . where are you going with this?”
Ellias’ smile turned into a full grin, “You had better reevaluate your beliefs because one of those four things just happened.”
He started for the door, “I have work to do. Send your . . . ” Ellias stopped halfway there and turned around, “Do you have a crew for the Weasel? Do we even have a qualified pilot?”
Wills froze as his mind tried to come up with a name of someone, anyone, that was even remotely qualified to handle a Rhino-class starship. The names of every available pilot on or near Archer went through his head without triggering a response. He reached the end of that list and became aware that he had turned and was looking straight at CeCe. She saw his eyes focus on her and recognized that look.
She pointed a shaking finger at him, “No! No! No! Absolutely not! I haven’t been behind the wheel of a shuttle in four years and a starship since I brought that thing here. Even then, I was only the co-pilot.”
Wills pulled out his pad and called Nanci, “Nanci, do a file search for anyone on or near Archer that is or was rated
