Battle Station by Ben Bova Read Free Book Online

handle that themselves. Come on, you and I will check it out together.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Varshni spoke into his helmet microphone
briefly, then straightened up and tried to smile. “I am ready, sir.”
    The two men glided up a passageway that led to the outermost level of the station, Hazard wondering what would happen if a laser attack hit the area while they were in it. Takes a second or two to slice the hull open, he thought. Enough time to flip your visor down and grab on to something before the air blowout sucks you out of the station. Still, he slid his visor down and ordered Varshni to do the same. He was only mildly surprised when the Indian replied that he already had.
    Wish the station were shielded. Wish they had designed it to withstand attack. Then he grumbled inwardly, Wishes are for losers; winners use what they have. But the thought nagged at him. What genius put the power generator next to the unarmored hull? Damned politicians wouldn’t allow shielding; they wanted the stations to be vulnerable. A sign of goodwill, as far as they’re concerned. They thought nobody would attack an unshielded station because the attacker’s station is also unshielded. We’re all in this together, try to hurt me and I’ll hurt you. A hangover from the old mutual-destruction kind of dogma. Absolute bullshit.
    There ought to be some way to protect ourselves from lasers. They shouldn’t put people up here like sacrificial lambs.
    Hazard glanced at Varshni, whose face was hidden behind his helmet visor. He thought of his son. Sheila had ten years to poison his mind against me. Ten years. He wanted to hate her for that, but he found that he could not. He had been a poor husband and a worse father. Jon Jr. had every right to loathe his father. But dammit, this is more important than family arguments! Why can’t the boy see what’s at stake here? Just because he’s sore at his father doesn’t mean he has to take total leave of his senses.

    They approached a hatch where the red warning light was blinking balefully. They checked the hatch behind them, made certain it was airtight, then used the wall-mounted keyboard to start the pumps that would evacuate that section of the passageway, turning it into an elongated air lock.
    Finally they could open the farther hatch and glide into the wrecked storage magazine.
    Hazard grabbed a handhold. “Better use tethers here,” he said.
    Varshni had already unwound the tether from his waist and clipped it to a hold.
    It was a small magazine, little more than a closet. In the light from their helmet lamps, they saw cartons of pharmaceuticals securely anchored to the shelves with toothed plastic straps. A gash had been torn in the hull, and through it Hazard could see the darkness of space. The laser beam had penetrated into the cartons and shelving, slicing a neat burned-edge slash through everything it touched.
    Varshni floated upward toward the rent. It was as smooth as a surgeon’s incision, and curled back slightly where the air pressure had pushed the thin metal outward in its rush to escape to vacuum.
    â€œNo wiring here,” Varshni’s voice said in Hazard’s helmet earphones. “No plumbing either. We were fortunate.”
    â€œThey were aiming for the power generator.”
    The Indian pushed himself back down toward Hazard. His face was hidden behind the visor. “Ah, yes, that is an important target. We were very fortunate that they missed.”
    â€œThey’ll try again,” Hazard said.
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œCommander Hazard!” Yang’s voice sounded urgent. “I think you should hear the latest message from Graham , sir.”

    Nodding unconsciously inside his helmet, Hazard said, “Patch it through.”
    He heard a click, then Buckbee’s voice. “Hazard, we’ve been very patient with you. We’re finished playing games. You bring the Hunter