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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Sometimes there is little a man can do, but does that mean he has to do nothing?

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Analog, 1999
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2002

22 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [74 KB], eReader (PDB) [30 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [17 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [16 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [66 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [88 KB], hiebook (KML) [71 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [47 KB], iSilo (PDB) [14 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [18 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [45 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [27 KB]
Words: 4542
Reading time: 12-18 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Alpha Centauri A was chosen for a few very simple reasons. First, it was close--a mere 4.3 light years from Earth. Second, it was a G2-type star, similar enough to the sun that data taken directly from Sol could be used in software models without requiring complex conversions.

But the most important factor was greed.

Each star in the Centauri system had adequate fusion material to support the new propulsion systems, but Centauri A was the largest of the three, with a mass ten times that of Proxima and twenty percent greater than Centauri B. The supply of resources in A would last that much longer.

And in the end, that was the factor that doomed the star to an accelerated death.

Lieutenant Commander Torrance Black stood on the gunmetal runway that circled Everguard's pod engineering assembly area. The rail was cold against his grip and seemed to adhere to his palms. Machinery ozone seeped through the open grate of the floor and hung around him like an acrid memory, unchangeable but vaguely distant.

Everything appeared to be on plan.

Each tube bay stood open, the collection forming a perfectly spaced row of a dozen chambers, their three-meter-diameter spans empty, pristinely round, and gleaming with stainless steel beauty.

The wormhole pods that went into these tubes were the size of G-class riders--fifty meters tip-to-tip but rounded in cross-section to fit into the circular tubes. Their surfaces were coated with rugged brown thermal material that made them appear starkly utilitarian in the brightly lit assembly area. Each end was capped with conical black boots of heat-treated alloy, and banded with a titanium-steel composite fashioned in the zero-g environment of Armstrong station.

His staff wore their fresh whites today. Their voices echoed with professional bearing in the open expanse. A computer reported the status of an automated routine that controlled much of the launch sequence.

"I want these tubes loaded by 1800 hours, folks," he barked at them with what, even he realized, was a little too much vinegar.

"We'll make it, LC," Malloy replied with a quick salute.