Chapter 19

            With his computerized brain, Dr. Ruff needed only five seconds to analyze the situation and come up with a solution.  “If we can modify one of our transports to emit the same kind of energy field as their ships, we should be able to land on the surface undetected and retrieve Captain Bulldog.”

            Jeremiah had come down from engineering for this meeting.  He shook his head as Dr. Ruff spoke.  “A cloaking device?  We’ve worked on those for years with nothing to show for it.  You think you can make one in twelve hours?”

            “We have been studying the energy field the Cats use to disguise their cities from our sensors.  I believe we can mimic the same energy field for one of our transports.”

            “Why not the whole ship?” Jake asked.

            “To create their fields, the Cats use a particular type of crystal as a conductor in their relays.  The crystal is not indigenous to any Bloc worlds.”

            “Then how are we going to get any of it?” Jeremiah asked.

            “The escape pod they delivered Lieutenant Bulldog and the others in contains some of the material.  I believe it will be enough to cloak one of our transports.”

            Spot smiled at this.  The Cats had inadvertently made a critical error by sending Jake and the Saint Bernards back in an escape pod.  He nodded to the others.  “How long will it take?”

            “With the help of Lieutenant Commander Mutt and a team of engineers, I believe we can make the modifications in seven hours.”

            “That doesn’t leave us with much time,” Jeremiah said.

            “Then we’d better get to work,” Spot said.  He turned to his brother.  “Give Dr. Ruff whatever he needs.  Strip parts off the hyperdrive reactor if you have to.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Good.  While you do that, Jake and I are going to figure out just how to get Captain Bulldog out of there.”  He patted Jeremiah’s shoulder.  “Keep me apprised.”

            Jake followed Spot out into the corridor.  “You really think this is going to work?”

            “It has to.”

            Marshy came running out of the elevator.  Though her face was white, it looked even paler.  “Spot!  We just received a transmission from Cattatonia.”

            “Cattatonia?”

            “It’s Ambassador Dodger.  He says they’re moving Captain Bulldog’s execution up by six hours!”

            Spot could only think to say, “Oh no.”

#

            The tighter schedule meant there was no time for mistakes.  Dr. Ruff and his team did the majority of the work, their cyber-enhanced bodies allowing them to work faster than Jeremiah and the other engineers.  Despite this, they still had to work at a feverish pace to meet the new deadline.

            Spot watched a live feed from the conference room, where he and Jake went over a rudimentary plan.  With the execution moved up, they would be unlikely to have any time to search for the dungeon where Buster was being held.  That meant they would have to wait until the execution itself.  They would have to hope they could arrive in time to rescue Buster off the gallows—or whatever the Cats used to execute their prisoners.

            Spot rubbed his tired eyes with one paw.  “I think the best we can do is lay down some covering fire from the transport while someone goes down to get him.”

            “I’ll do that.”

            “No, I should do it.  I’m the captain; I shouldn’t ask you to do something I wouldn’t do myself.”

            Jake snorted at this.  “I know you would do it yourself.  I just think it’s better if I do it.”  Jake flexed his muscles.  “If things get rough down there, I’d be better at handling it.”

            Spot sighed.  Things were very likely to get rough on the ground.  The Cats would have a lot of security down there and no matter how well-aimed their shots from the transport, they couldn’t take out all the guards.  “I suppose you’re right.”

            Jake patted him on the shoulder.  “I know you’d do anything to rescue Buster.  So would I.  We still got to keep our heads about this.”

            “I know.  Thank you.”

            The intercom buzzed.  “Commander, we’ve finished the modifications,” Dr. Ruff announced.  Spot turned to the monitor to see Jeremiah’s crews packing up their gear. 

            “I’ll be right there.  Can you ask your sister to meet me down there?”

            “Yes, Commander.”

            Spot turned to Jake.  “Get your team together and meet us down there.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Spot considered this enough of an emergency that he could run down to the hangar.  He just about ran into Jeremiah as the hangar door opened.  “She’s as ready as she’s going to be,” Jeremiah said, the fatigue evident in his voice.  “Wish I could guarantee that she’ll hold up, but we’ve had to rush this so much—”

            “I know.”  Spot gave his brother a hug.  “If anything happens—”

            “I’ll tell Mom and Pop.”

            “Thanks.  I’m leaving you in charge while I’m gone.”

            “Me?”

            “It’s either you or Nina.”

            Jeremiah looked down at the deck.  Although he was a lieutenant commander, Jeremiah had never been interested in commanding a starship.  He preferred to stay in the engine room, among his precious machines.  He snuffled and said, “I understand.  I’ll try not to let her go to pot.”

            “Thanks.  And you might want to give those engines a tune-up.  We may have to make a quick getaway back to Batpooh State.”

            “I’ll do what I can.”

            “That’s all I ask.”  After another hug, Spot went into the hangar.  The transport didn’t look any different on the outside, but inside he saw just about every access panel had been opened to expose its circuitry.  He saw a few strange crystal conduits that must have come from the Cat escape pod.  “That’s it?”

            “Yes, Commander,” Dr. Ruff said.  “I apologize for the mess—”

            “It’ll be fine, so long as it gets us there and back.”

            “Let us hope so.”

            Marshy poked her head into the transport.  She smiled at her brother and Spot.  “This looks different.”

            “It does indeed,” Spot said.  “Think you can fly her?”

            “Me?  I thought you—”

            “We need our best pilot for this, the one who holds all the Academy records.”

            Marshy’s smile broadened.  “Yes, sir.”

            Before she came up to the cockpit, Marshy gave her brother a hug.  Despite that he was largely a machine now, Dr. Ruff hugged her back.  Then Marshy slipped into the pilot’s seat and began flipping switches.  “Let’s do this,” she said.

            “And hope Dog is on our side.”

#

            They couldn’t use the cloaking device in hyperspace.  That would have to wait until they reached the moons of Cattatonia.  Going over the Batpooh’s chart of the system, Spot and Marshy had agreed that the third moon would make an ideal waypoint.  As far as they could tell, it was uninhabited.  It was also volcanic, spewing jets of radioactive gases into space.  That would help to provide cover for their approach.

            That was if they made it that far.  The Cats would surely have sensors along the way capable of picking up a hyperspace signature.  If their sensors were like those on Bloc ships, they wouldn’t be able to penetrate the hyperspace “bubble” around the transport to determine its make.  They might decide it was simply another of their ships coming back from patrol.

            Along the way, Spot kept an eye on his gauges, waiting for something on the jury-rigged transport to blow out or fuse into slag.  So far everything seemed to be holding together well enough, except that the inertial dampeners had been cannibalized, making for a bumpy ride.  Good thing he hadn’t eaten before the trip.

            “Everything’s holding steady,” Marshy said.  She punched the intercom button.  “How are you doing back there?”

            “We’re fine,” Jake snapped.  If they rescued Buster, there wouldn’t be much room to squeeze him in the transport, not with Jake, the Saint Bernards, and Dr. Ruff already back there.  Then there was the matter of Dodger.  Would he be there as well?  Would the Cats have already found and killed him?

            A clock on Spot’s side of the cockpit counted down the minutes until Buster’s execution.  They had only two hours left.  It would take another hour just to get out of hyperspace.  From there, at least forty-five minutes of flight time down to the surface.  That would leave them very little time to find where Buster was being executed and rescue him.

            The hour ticked down painfully slow.  He and Marshy said nothing except for routine status reports.  There was nothing they could say at this point.  They might both be killed on this mission.  If only they had met before this, so that they might have had more time to get to know each other—

            “We’re here,” Marshy said.  “Dropping out of hyperspace.”

            The third moon of Cattatonia loomed ahead of them, its gray-brown surface pockmarked with craters.  Marshy used the maneuvering jets to bring the transport to the right seconds before a crevice along the surface came to life with blue light.  A jet of blue gas lit out into space.  Spot checked his displays for any damage, but Marshy had moved them out of the way in time.  “Nice job, Lieutenant.”

            “Thank you, sir.”

            He hit the intercom button.  “Are we ready back there?”

            “Just about, Commander,” Dr. Ruff answered.  A few more precious seconds ticked away.  “Ready to initiate cloak.”

            Spot held his breath as he waited.  The lights on the cockpit dimmed and then went out completely.  Marshy slapped at the controls.  “We’ve lost navigation controls,” she said.

            “Dr. Ruff?”

            “A relay has burned out.  It should only be a minute to reroute power.”

            “Commander!” Marshy shouted.  Spot turned to look out the front screen.  He saw immediately what Marshy had seen:  another of the crevices was about to erupt, one directly in their path.

            “Dr. Ruff—”

            “Working on it, sir.”

            “We don’t have much time.”

            The crevice lit up with bright blue light as the previous one had.  Spot pounded futilely on the control panel.  Without the transport’s shields, they would be killed by the radiation when that crevice erupted.  “Dr. Ruff!”

            “Randy, do it!” Marshy screamed.

            The instrument panels came back to life.  Marshy wasted no time in firing the maneuvering jets to push them out of the way.  The stream of blue radioactive gas passed within meters of them, not close enough to do any damage.  Spot sighed with relief.  “Status of the cloak?” he asked over the intercom.

            “Fully operational, Commander.”

            He turned to Marshy.  “Take us down, Lieutenant.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            As the transport backed away from the moon to head for Cattatonia, Spot checked the clock.  They had less than an hour left.  Less than an hour before his best friend would be dead.