Saucer: The Conquest by Stephen Coonts Read Free Book Online Page B

Earth. To save money and weight, the French made their ships more self-sufficient than the old American space shuttles or Apollo spacecraft. Mission Control was always there, a valuable asset in case things went wrong, only a push of a button away on the radio, but truly, the pilots were in charge.
    Charley was wearing a headset so that she could hear any transmissions from Mission Control. There had been none since she checked in twenty minutes ago. She had to check in every hour on the hour.
    She pulled the earpiece from her left ear and placed it against her head so that she could listen to the sounds of the ship.
    One would think that every click and clang inside the ship would carry throughout the structure, and it did, but not as audible noise. The ship was too well insulated for that. If one put a hand on the outside hull, the random tapping and rapping could be felt. One could almost imagine the ship was alive. She rested her right hand on the frame of the side window to enjoy the tiny tremors.
    She was gradually coming down from the adrenaline high that had kept her wired for the last twenty-four hours. Maybe after this watch she could sleep.
    She yawned. Actually, she was getting sleepy now.
    Okay, Charlotte, old girl, stay awake!
    The good news was that if she drifted off, any ship’s system that failed or exceeded normal operational parameters would illuminate a yellow caution light and sound an audible warning. It sounded like a siren and would wake the nearly dead. A different tone would sound if one of the flight computers disagreed with the other two.
    If she slept, the ship would continue on course, precisely as if she were awake, and Mission Control would give her a blast if she missed her hourly call-in. And yet, she was a professional. “I am not going to sleep in the cockpit,” she declared out loud.
    “I certainly hope not,” said a male voice behind her, startling her. She had heard nothing as he came in.
    She glanced over her shoulder. Pierre Artois.
    “Bonjour,” she said, successfully hiding her irritation at being surprised.
    “Bonjour, mademoiselle. How do we progress?”
    In answer, she punched up the navigation display on the MFD and pointed to the readouts. “Zipping right along, as you can see.”
    “So how does Jeanne d’Arc compare to your flying saucer?” Artois asked as he maneuvered himself into the pilot’s seat and donned a seat belt to hold him there.
    Charley considered her answer before she spoke. “This ship is nicer, more people friendly. The saucer was more of a pickup truck, designed to haul people and cargo back and forth from orbit to a planet. The saucer had no cooking, sleeping or toilet facilities. Very Spartan.”
    “Ah, the creature comforts. These days one expects them.”
    They discussed the differences for a few minutes, then the conversation petered out.
    Finally Artois said, “And Madame Courbet, your stateroom companion, are you getting along with her?”
    “She’s very nice.”
    “Yes,” he agreed. “Nice. Indeed.”
    Artois sat for a few more minutes, then unstrapped and pushed himself out of the pilot’s seat with a gentle nudge. As he floated aft for the hatch he said, “I hope you have a good voyage.”
    “You too,” said Charley Pine. She glanced back to make sure he actually left the compartment.
    What was that all about? she wondered.
    A few minutes later Joe Bob Hooker caromed into the cockpit. “Just like a goddamn cue ball,” he said to Charley. He held himself suspended behind the seats and stared through the windscreen.
    “Oh, my God! Would you look at that?” He shifted so he could look out the pilot’s side window. “If that don’t beat all! Who’d a believed it, I ask you that. Who’d a thought it?”
    “So is this worth twenty-five mil?”
    “Can’t take it with you, kid. No, sir.” Hooker crept forward so that he could look back over the tiny left wing at earth. Finally, when he had had enough, he slid backward