by S. H. Jucha
Production had continued at full pace during the search for Velis. GEN-2 machines produced raw nanites while GEN-3 machines processed them into differentiated classes—medical nanites, cable repair nanites, and an injectable liquid for hull and bulkhead plate molds.
As the supplies were produced, New Terran personnel moved aboard the Rêveur to take on the expanding repair work, getting their first taste of life with the Méridiens. Major Tachenko assigned a few specially chosen troopers, mostly women, to maintain the good behavior of the New Terrans.
EVA teams buttoned up the remaining hull interiors—repairing the internal bulkheads; reconnecting severed comm, power cabling, and lift tubes; and reinstituting environmental systems.
Each evening was a novel experience for the New Terrans. They indulged their taste buds with Méridien food and, one by one, told their stories. More than one individual experienced a cathartic moment when a deeply personal story, locked inside for years, was finally shared.
Twenty-seven days after the New Terrans first boarded, the Méridiens had access to every location on the ship, except the engine space. However, they were still dependent on the power supply from the Outward Bound’s generators.
* * *
After evening meal, Alex and Renée retired to the bridge, where they sat alone.
“Julien, is there any concern for our power supply?” Alex asked. He’d never operated the tractor generators for such an extended period of time. There was no reason to suspect a problem would develop. He was just anxious for the safety of the Méridiens.
“There is no concern, Captain, I’ve been monitoring your generators since we installed the inter-ship link and your equipment remains within operating parameters. You have, as you’d say, gotten your creds worth.”
“Good to know,” laughed Alex.
“Captain, Ser, I have an update from Minister Drake. The President has authorized the funds for Transfer Station Two and located a site. Purchase of the site will be concluded tomorrow.”
TS-2 would manufacture the Méridien crystals. For safety, the site was located far outside of Prima. Crystal growth was innocuous, but even Méridien tech hadn’t devised a sure means of testing the electrical pathways of a power-crystal as it grew. Once a crystal fully matured, it was placed in a re-enforced containment facility and powered up slowly over two days. If it reached full charge without exploding, it was deemed stable, discharged, transferred to its new location, and installed in a power bank.
All Méridien crystal varieties—power, navigation, and communication—were produced at TS-2 for the Rêveur and the Outward Bound as well as the new smaller crystals for the fighters that Julien had designed.
Medical nanites from TS-1 were the first tech transfer to the New Terran populace. Since New Terra practiced socialized medicine, the nanites were quickly integrated into hospital procedures and employed by emergency wards in life-threatening situations.
Following the distribution of medical nanites, the Ministry of Technology announced electrical companies could purchase power-crystals at cost from TS-2 to replace worn transformers or to install them at new facilities. The Méridien crystals were rated for 300 years, eight times the life of New Terran transformers. Their companies’ contractual agreement with the government required they pass the maintenance savings on to the populace.
Nano-cables were next, right behind power-crystals. They were also purchased at cost and used in backbone comm and power cabling. Again, savings were to be passed on to the populace, a decision generating widespread public approval. Of course, the fact that the distribution scheme was the plan of a self-aware digital entity from another star system wasn’t published.
-22-
When TS-2 began growing its first crystals, construction began on Transfer Station Three. Located on a rocky outcrop off the coast of Prima, the government owned strip of land was aptly named Barren Island.
The Rêveur’s engines and support structure along with the new fighters would be built there. In the future, a second orbital station would be built to construct fighting ships to protect the New Terran system and sail between the stars. The island’s future naval academy graduates would fill the ships.
Barren Island’s craggy terrain was transformed into a complex complete with admin and engineering buildings, testing and supply warehouses, manufacturing structures equipped with GEN-3 machines, a flight terminal, and two landing strips. The TS-3 Station Manager worked hand in hand with the President’s new naval appointee, Commander Jerold Jameson.
* * *
Late in the evening, Alex and Renée were reviewing the latest TS-3 update. “Julien,” Alex said, “I need a conference call in the morning with Commander Jameson. Please schedule that when he is available.”
“I’ll take your request under advisement, Captain,” Julien rejoined.
Alex and Renée were speechless. But before either could respond, they heard, “I believe levity relieves the pressures created by continuous work.”
“You see,” Renée laughed, striking Alex on the shoulder hard enough to hurt her hand, “Look what you’ve done to our SADE. You’ve ruined him.”
Alex grinned back at her, pretending to rub a hurt shoulder, “I don’t know about that. I think he’s much improved.”
But Julien had the last word. “Alas, there’s no pleasing the two of you. I fear the strain on my circuits may become too much to bear,” and he basked in the laughter of his favorite people.
The initial reports from Commander Jameson were encouraging. There was no shortage of volunteers for fighter training and many had solid experience as shuttle pilots. To aid their training, Julien mocked a fighter cockpit on the bridge holo-vid then transferred the program to a dedicated GEN-3 machine on Barren Island. This particular machine was the prototype for the fighter’s controller, an extremely intelligent computer than could compensate for the lack of a Méridien SADE, the one item Julien couldn’t create.
Renée took the opportunity to broach a tender subject that had concerned her ever since their discovery of Earth’s military weapons. “When our repairs are completed and we leave for home, what will you do, Alex?”
“Do you mean will I come with you?”
“No, we know you will come,” she said quietly. “All of us have come to rely on that fact. The question is what duty you will perform on the Rêveur. Will you serve as one of the fighter pilots?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered.
“And you think you can help us in this manner?”
“I think I can keep you safer than anyone else.”
There it was—the heart of the dilemma. She’d see him safe, but he was willing to risk himself first and foremost to protect them all. So Renée relied on what she knew best—negotiation. After all, she was a daughter of House de Guirnon. “Well, then let us discuss our personnel requirements. We will need a ship’s crew for our return trip, which means New Terran volunteers. And if you’re going to be a fighter pilot, who would you recommend as the Rêveur’s Captain?”
And just like that, she exposed his quandary. He’d considered asking for both positions but coordinating the efforts of Julien, the T-managers, the Tech Team, and Commander Jameson had taught him about the demands of command and the value of delegation. He knew he couldn’t hold both positions, and he knew only one person who was qualified to be Captain, even if the term qualified was being generous. And now Renée was asking him to choose.
When Alex failed to respond to her question, Renée signaled the command chair into a horizontal position and turned to face him, dangling her legs over the side. “Alex, we have need of you but not as a fighter pilot. Your skills are needed on the bridge.”
“Captain of the Rêveur,” Alex whispered into the darkened bridge as New Terra rotated below them.
“Yes,” she said and reached across the gap to slide a hand under his. “Whatever awaits us, I want to meet it with you as our Captain.”
* * *
The next d
ay, after morning meal, Renée stood up at the head table. “The day approaches when we will depart for Méridien. To safely manage our flight or, more critically, to deal with whatever may have happened in our absence, we will need New Terran crew. Toward that end, I’ve taken the first step by asking Captain Racine to be the Rêveur’s Captain, and he has agreed.”
As Renée finished her announcement, the seventeen other survivors jumped to their feet and, in unison, pumped a right fist into the air and shouted a Con-Fed phrase over and over.
In his ear, Alex heard Julien. “It’s a traditional Méridien phrase to celebrate a new Captain and to wish him safe voyage. And may I add my congratulations, Captain?” Alex bowed his head to acknowledge their tribute and whispered a thank you to Julien. Each Méridien came up to him, either shaking his hand or bestowing a kiss on each cheek as they had done on their first evening together.
Alain and Étienne were the last to congratulate him. As Étienne shook his hand, he leaned close. “Alain and I have agreed—he will protect Ser. I’ll serve you, Captain, and I’ll keep you safe as your mother asked of me.”
-23-
The following day, at 15.75 hours, Alex was headed to meet the next shuttle delivery at the mid-ship airlock. He had hoped to have been able to repair the bay doors and accept deliveries there, but offloading the damaged shuttles for transfer to the Joaquin orbital station had taken a full day, several grav-lifters, and lots of manpower to manually lever the bay doors open and then close them again. Normal operation of the bay would have to wait until the ship was docked at the orbital station where they would replace the bay door motors and tracks.
On the way to the airlock, Alex stopped Renée in the corridor to tell her there was no need to continue with the retro-fit of the Outward Bound since he would be leaving with them.
“Nonsense,” she replied. “It’s in the contract, and New Terra is being well compensated. Consider it a gift from my people to do with as you will.” Then she abruptly turned and walked away, ending the conversation. He stood there with a reply on his lips before shrugging and continuing on to the airlock.
The shuttle was delivering power-crystals, deemed Security Level-1, critical or dangerous materials, so Tatia accompanied the shipment and took the opportunity to board the Rêveur, stretch her legs, and see if her persona grata Méridien was available.
Tatia had first met the twins when they accompanied Alex and Renée to the Assembly. Her initial reaction was one of dismissal. Despite their otherworldly beauty, they appeared too delicate to qualify as a casual liaison. She had a mental image of a dalliance with one of them resulting in their considerable pain if not their hospitalization. And, professionally, she doubted their capability to perform their jobs adequately. Later, she revised her initial opinion, having been impressed by the manner in which they shadowed their charges—under-stated and professional. An incident at TS-1 did even more to sway her opinion. A heavy-set engineer seeking Renée’s attention had, without thinking, reached out to grasp her shoulder from behind. Alain’s speed and execution in blocking the beefy arm was extraordinary. It revised her estimation of his delicateness.
In the early morning hours following that incident, she found herself alone in the canteen with him. They shared hot drinks and talked shop, which led to conversations about their families and eventually their relationships. Neither of them had found that special someone—dedication to the job, relationships with the wrong people, and the other hurdles facing singles had limited their opportunities.
After that first conversation, they would often steal a little time to talk, walk, and enjoy each other’s company. Several days later, Alain had returned to his ship, but they continued to see each other whenever Tatia came aboard the Rêveur with shuttle deliveries. She was about to say goodbye to him one day when he leaned in to kiss her. His kiss was tentative until she returned it; then it became passionate. When she finally pulled back, he had a beatific smile on his face that mirrored her own. After that, they always found an evening’s hour to chat via the ship’s link to TS-1, and Tatia rarely missed a shuttle visit.
As Tatia watched Alex attach trace-tags to each container, enabling materials to be located within the ship, she was reminded of a nagging question.
“Captain, do you have a moment? There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Alex finished tagging the shipment then two Méridiens attached grav-lifts to the containers and guided the delivery away. “Certainly, Major, accompany me to the bridge.”
“How are the repairs going, Captain?” Tatia asked.
“They should take another forty to fifty days at most, and we will still need to recruit a crew, which I don’t have a timeline on yet. Now what was your question, Major?”
“Good day, Julien,” she said.
“Good day, Major Tachenko.”
“Actually, my question was for you and Julien. I received information on the Frasier brothers’ memory account from the General, who got it from the President. But the President doesn’t have any immediate resources capable of obtaining that type of information. He would have had to use our services, but he didn’t.”
Deciding Alex would be better at this game, Julien kept quiet.
“My apologies, Major,” Alex said, “I don’t understand the question.”
“I wonder how the President managed to obtain information that would have been protected by very stringent security protocols.”
“Did you ask the President?”
“Me, question the President how he received the information?” she said, laughing at the very idea. “I like my position. I might make Colonel in four or five years.” After a moment she added, “Still, I wonder how he got the information. He even had the account password.”
Alex, searching for a way to change the subject, realized he had the perfect excuse. “Major, now that you’re here, I could use your expertise.”
Tatia recognized equivocation when she saw it, but was curious enough to accept the diversion.
“Julien has completed his fighter design, which you’ve probably heard is our best option for offense. I’m working on the weapons system.”
The holo-vid displayed a narrow fuselage craft with four rear boom-mounted engines that revolved in front of her. As a subject change, she had to admit it was quite good.
“How far have you gotten?”
“That’s the problem. I’m still at the strategy stage.”
“Well, I like to attack problems in small steps,” she said, fascinated by the challenge. “In your case, what would you say is the easiest weapon to develop?”
“Of our choices, that would be a missile, a small missile that mounts on the fighter. Julien can design any type of mount and control we need.”
“So, number one, best choice is a missile. What’s the next issue?” She asked.
“We’ve reviewed the encounter a hundred times. That alien craft was agile, its beams were powerful, and it could fire frequently. Even if we mounted missiles on the fighter, they wouldn’t be many. One silver ship could easily destroy all of them before they got close, making our fighters vulnerable.”
Tatia began pacing and made an entire orbit of the bridge while she considered Alex’s problem. “One of our crowd control tools fires a single shot that breaks into multiple sleep canisters. They can be fired from drones or a shoulder launcher.”
“A single shot that breaks into multiple shots…a second stage?” Alex mused. “We could use a high acceleration first-stage missile that fires a second stage of multiple heads to overtax the enemy’s energy weapon.”
Tatia stopped to regard Alex, who had also begun pacing the bridge. “Can you make an explosive device?”
“They’re called warheads,” he explained. “Yes, we have several choices. But there are other complications. First, we don’t know what defenses that ship might possess.”
“So, you can make missiles with multiple warheads, but you don’t know if they’ll do any
good.”
“Accurate summary,” Alex replied, circling the bridge in one direction while Tatia paced in the other. “And, second, most missiles are designed to target the engines or any strong heat signature. Julien’s spectrographic analysis shows the alien ship is as cool as a refrigerated vita-drink. It has no heat bloom at all.”
“No heat bloom?”
“None at all, which begs the question of how they move around. Julien surmises that they may use gravitational fields. But, there’s no evidence either way.”
Alerted to their discussion, Julien focused his attention on them. Despite the gravity of the subject, he was amused by their actions—motion to focus thought. The more motion, the better the focus, apparently. For an entity that lived in crystal, it was an alien concept.
“So, you face a superior foe,” Tatia continued. “In our self-defense courses, women trainees are taught that males, 8.4 times out of ten, will be the opponent, and, since males often outweigh them, they must use superior strategy.”
“So you’re saying we must be clever. But where does that lead us?” he asked, the vagueness of her response not eliciting any ideas.
“You’re facing an unknown and superior foe, Captain. You need to be sneaky. Discover their weakness and hit them where they can be hurt!”
Alex rolled her concept over in his mind, his analytical skills kicking into gear. “So, if their defensive weapons are unknown, then we have two choices—we discover them or we ignore them.”
“Why would you ignore them?” It was her turn to stop pacing and stare.
“Well, what can you do about something you know nothing about?”
“What if they have superb defenses?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Alex as he resumed circling the bridge. “That silver ship was small, but it didn’t hesitate to attack two comparatively enormous ships. My guess is that it expected to win.”