Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(48)

Izumi is with him. Maybe her training as a physician has taught her to be conservative. Or perhaps she’s against our idea because it’s so radical.

For Charlotte, the sticking point is the prospect of losing the drones—of having a successful first contact and no way to adapt her approach.

Lina is somewhere in the middle. The German programmer is the least talkative of the crew. She simply asks what the risks and rewards are, which sparks another James-Min standoff.

I think Harry favors the plan mostly because he likes building the drones, and I think he would follow James anywhere. I would too. But I also agree with the plan on the merits. My gut tells me the artifacts are hostile. That’s not just because I think they destroyed the ISS and killed my crew. The evidence supports it.

Grigory is in that camp: he thinks we’re at war. He favors, in his words, “finding our enemy.”

In the end, Lina votes with us, and a compromise is struck: parts for three small drones will remain on the Pax. That wins Charlotte over, leaving Min and Izumi. Neither of them is comfortable with the decision, but they will work to support it. And in private, James and Min apologize to each other for shouting.

We’re becoming more than a crew. We’re becoming a family, one that fights and compromises and cares about each other, even when we don’t agree. Even when we’re mad at each other.





The run-up to the Fornax rendezvous is hectic. It’s anybody’s guess which will happen first: the Janus fleet reaching Beta or the docking.

James and Harry obsess over the drone designs for the third fleet, which they’re calling “Midway” after the decisive naval battle that turned the tide of World War II in the Pacific. Harry, in addition to being a human repository of movie quotes, is a history buff as well. James is too, but to a lesser extent.

“Without Midway, the Japanese could have run the board,” Harry says, strapped to our work table in the drone lab. “Brilliance, that’s what it was. The greatest game of naval strategy ever played.”

I wonder if that’s what Harry thinks we’re doing out here: an elaborate strategy game against an enemy that looks as if it’s winning. And will win.

“The US fleet took down four Japanese carriers at Midway. Four of the six that attacked Pearl Harbor. The Japanese never recovered. Couldn’t replace those ships. Or the pilots they lost.”

James is untangling a ball of wires. “You could argue Guadalcanal was just as important.”

Harry pauses. “True. But that was a land campaign.” He smiles. “Our fight is in the air.”

I enjoy listening to them debate history. I’ve never had much interest in military history, but their enthusiasm brings it to life. I’ve learned more about the War in the Pacific the last two days than I have in my life.

They’ve named the elements of the drone fleet to align with their historical counterparts. There will be three carrier drones—Hornet, Yorktown, and Enterprise—and almost a hundred small scout drones, which don’t warrant names, just the designation PBY and a number. I had to ask what a PBY was (answer: a sea plane used extensively for scouting, rescue, and anti-submarine operations in the 1930s and 40s).

Finally, there are two specialty drones. Vestal is a large, slow drone with all the excess parts. The carriers will be able to offload parts from it as needed. And Mighty Mo is a battle drone with four rail guns and a huge battery to power them. It even looks mean. James and Harry laughed when they settled on the name. Apparently it’s the nickname for the USS Missouri, a storied US battleship that hosted the Japanese surrender. It was the last battleship the US commissioned and the last battleship to be decommissioned.

It also turns out James and Harry are a bit superstitious. They’ll only name the drones after “successful” ships. Harry tells me the US never lost a battleship at sea, though four were sunk during the attack on Pearl Harbor. It’s amazing the history you learn on an impromptu space mission.

My only worry is that Izumi might take offense at the carrier names. I go as far as asking her about it, but she simply stares back with a blank expression and says, “Why would that bother me?”

“Well, you know, because of the war.”

She nods absently. “No. It doesn’t bother me.”

I probably just earned myself a psych eval.





I’m in my sleep station, dead to the world, when the shouts wake me. I try to focus on the words, but I can’t make them out. Something in Chinese, and Japanese, and Harry yelling, “ET phone home!”

The curtain yanks back and James lets his momentum carry him into the cramped space. He’s nearly on top of me, his lips inches from mine.

“We did it. The Janus fleet reached Beta. We’ve got observational data. And first contact. It’s communicating with us.”





Chapter 30





James





I feel like a sailor, marooned on a desert island who has just seen a sail on the horizon. I don’t know if we’ll be saved, or if it’s even a friendly sail, but it’s hope. That’s what first contact with the artifact means. Hope. Hope that we can communicate. Negotiate. Find a way to survive.

In the bubble, Charlotte is practically buzzing. Everyone is here. Emma, sleepy-faced. Min, looking stoic as usual. Grigory, hair in a mess, expression skeptical. Lina and Izumi are uncharacteristically animated, and Harry and I are overjoyed.