Intrepid

''Kris,'' Vicky said in a low voice, ''that is how I feel too. It's my dad's life we're talking about.''

''Your dad and a whole lot of people down on that planet,'' Kris agreed. ''But it's not as easy as that. Has anyone calculated the kinetic power of one of our pulse lasers?'' Normally Kris would have asked Nelly to do it, but the low hum in the back of Kris's head said that the old girl was fully occupied.

''I've got it,'' Penny said. ''Entered it before that battle above Chance and never purged it.''

Beside Kris, Vicky swallowed hard at the mention of the battle in which her brother died. She also threw Penny a hard glance, as if memorizing her face.

Penny looked back just as hard. ''A lot of us fought at Chance, and my husband died stopping those battleships above Wardhaven.''

Vicky started to open her mouth.

Kris cut her off. ''Enough, girls. A lot of people are hurting from a lot of things that might have been better not done. Today, we have today's problems. Captain, can you tell us something about the thickness of the hide on this thing? The decks and strength girders.''

''That is a state secret,'' the colonel pointed out.

''You can keep the secret and start looking for a new First Citizen, or you can tell us and maybe we can save his life. Your call. Or should I have Miss Victoria call Lieutenant General Boyng again?''

The colonel in black looked like he'd swallowed something bitter, but he nodded Captain Krätz's way. That Greenfeld officer ran off a list of numbers.

Penny fed them into her computer, then paused a moment before announcing, ''Not good. We'll achieve complete burn through, one side to the other, using only twenty-five percent of the power of one of our four pulse lasers.''

''So we can punch four or maybe sixteen holes in that can,'' Kris said. ''Can we slice it in half? Quarters? Sixteenths?''

Penny eyed her wrist unit. ''Half, definitely. Maybe into three chunks. Not four.''

''And they would hit the planet in three places with one-third the power,'' Colonel Cortez said.

''No,'' Kris said at the same time Krätz did. Kris deferred to the Greenfeld captain.

''If we do anything to the engines as we pass, the ship stops accelerating. Its course assumes that it will keep its acceleration constant right up to collision. If we stop its acceleration, it will miss the planet entirely.''

''Assuming they do not change its course,'' the security colonel snapped. ''Just one hit in the right part of its power plant, and the containment field collapses. The ship and terrorists vanish, and we have no more problem.''

''Kris …'' Vicky said, not quite pleading.

''That is an option,'' Kris said slowly. ''But it is my last option. I did not put on this uniform to kill five thousand people whose only crime was buying a ticket to ride or taking a job to pander to them. Am I understood, Colonel!''

Kris locked eyes with the man from State Security. He glared right back at her.

''My duty is to the state, and the First Citizen.''

''And you know way too much about blowing up a ship for my liking and seem only too quick to do it.''

''Enough, the two of you!'' Vicky shouted. ''If you don't want to hit the electric generators, what do you intend to hit?''

Kris ran her hands along the schematic on the wall. ''The bridge, the living spaces have no value to us. The colonel is right, we need to hit the engineering area,'' she said, coming to rest there. ''The question is how do we cripple and drive the ship hopelessly off course, so that it can't be put back on course,'' Kris glanced at the colonel. ''But not blow it apart.''

''The engines,'' Penny and Captain Krätz said together.

''Will someone turn the ship engine-on to me?'' Kris asked, again not wanting to bother Nelly. For once her pet computer did not cut in with some snide remark about her being able to calculate pi and chew gum at the same time. Nelly was busy!

''I got it moving,'' Chief Beni said from where he still sat at the table, quietly observing the rest.

Kris found herself facing a three-quarters on view of the aft end of the Tourin. Four huge rocket motors glowed along the middle of the ship's end. Above and below them nestled three more equally huge bells. A short row of two topped the three.

Fourteen huge rocket motors pumped tons of hot plasma into space, so a million tons of human engineering could safely travel among the stars—normally.

Now it was a million tons of death for those aboard and those on the planet below. Unless Kris stopped it.

''Can the jets move?'' Kris asked. ''How do they steer?''

''Very carefully,'' Captain Krätz said dryly. ''Assuming a speed of between .95 and 1.05 gees, there is a battery of steering jets circling the bow, amidships, and aft that make it as maneuverable as a ballet dancer … at 1 gee. At this speed, God only knows what they would do if you cut away three or four of the rocket motors. Nip three or four more, the thing will take off doing loops. They'll never get it back under control.''