My birthday, Marjorie thought. God, I forgot about my birthday. 56 years old, old enough to retire, old enough to start a second career. She shook her head and closed her eyes. No, this was going to be her one and only job; fate had seen to that.
Chapter two
The mega city came about by accident. As the nations of the world slowly moved to global unity through trade, better communication, and the always present threat from an alien invader, more people migrated from rural areas into the cities. Cities all over the world were forced to grow outward absorbing the suburbs until they touched the boundaries of their closest neighbors. The first mega city happened in California when San Francisco, Oakland, Sacramento and San Jose decided they would merge to form the city of Sunshine. Los Angeles soon followed by merging with San Diego to form the city of Los Angeles Prime, a name San Diego is still trying to change.
The world’s largest merge happened on the East coast of America where Boston, New York, Trenton, Philadelphia, Dover, Wilmington, Baltimore and Washington merged. When the merger finished and the new city needed a name. Someone, a bitter Senator from Virginia who wanted Annapolis and Richmond to be part of the merger, yelled out, “why not just call it the God Damn capital of the world!” And the name, Capital City or simply The Capital, stuck.
Marjorie flew her shuttle over the Capital City and looked down in awe. She’s seen a lot of things in her days, most of them beautiful natural phenomenon, but seeing what her race could accomplish astounded her to no end. No star field she had ever witness was as dense as the large cluster of nights that glowed from the surface as the day passed easily into the night. She watched as night’s shadow raced across Asia and into Europe. She was low enough to see grey patches where the cities were laid out across the surface.
The David Bowman was the largest space port every built and was located at a lagrange point where the Earth and Moon’s gravity cancel each other out. Its size was mammoth and could easily be seen from Earth with a very low power telescope or a simple pair of binoculars. It was one of the few space ports that survived the Gyssyc attack.
The station itself was a large tube about fifteen miles from top to bottom and around 10 miles in circumference. Several hundred spokes jutted out from the surface and were attached to a large cage like structures. Inside the cages were the ships being repaired, built, or taken apart for scrap. It was easy to see thousands of sparks from welding torches flicker in and out of existence.
Marjorie moved her shuttle behind several dozen other crafts waiting to dock. The shuttles in front of her moved forward at incredible speeds. Some would bank sharply to the right or to the left while others would shoot up or down. A few continued forward and pulled to the side where they waited. She inched her way toward the front watching the dance play out in front of her. Once she was the first in line the computer took over. Within less than a second it connected to the David Bowman’s computer, gave it the destination and got a confirmation. The shuttle then took off on a predetermined route toward The Arwen. Marjorie was no longer in control; it was all automated from here.
Normally, she oversaw the repairs of her ship but when the Corps asked her to do another speaking tour she really had no other choice than to put Commander Pippleton in command. He was a fine commander and she trusted him as much as she trusted anyone who worked as her second. She paused remembering her lost friends.
The Arwen was a Tolkien class battle cruiser. It was cone shaped with a pointed tip at the front and a set of nine massive engines, each stacked in rows of three, in the back. The ship was coated in a reflective skin which provided camouflage by reflecting the stars back toward the observer as well as deflecting almost ninety percent of any energy beam harmlessly into space. The armor plating was designed to slide away to reveal the massive firepower they hid. Each section had four missile silos surrounding an energy cannon that could unleash powerful energy beams, enough to slice through the armor of any weaker ship. Properly armed the Arwen could easily handle any attack. It was a large ship with a crew complement of over 2,000 people.
She activated the radio and said, “This is Captain Marjorie Cook asking permission to come onboard.”
She got the reply back almost right away. “Captain Cook, this is Commander Pippleton, permission granted. Looking forward to seeing you on the deck and showing you around. I think you’ll love what we’ve done here.”
“I’m sure I will Commander. Captain Cook, out.”
******
Commander Pippleton ‘s Ulliam face did not allow him to frown; instead, he let his dissatisfaction with his appearance show in his shoulders which hunched up slightly before falling down as if being dropped by an invisible hand. This wasn’t the first time he realized he would never look good in a Corps uniform no matter how many tailors they sent him. It really wasn’t their fault; the Ulliam were never built to wear clothing. When the humans made first contact with the Ulliam, they were shocked to see those that greeted them were totally nude. It never even really occurred to the Ulliam of that time to wear clothes. They wore armor during times of war but other than that covering their bodies seemed useless.
Like almost everything else the views of the Ulliam changed the more they got to know their Earthly friends. The Ulliam were very easily influenced by outside sources. It was in their blood to want to please. An artifact of their heritage, one that Commander Pippleton did his best to suppress, but even he had to admit when he was asked to do something by the Captain he went as far as he could to please her. He guessed it was no different than other crew members but, given his heritage and the fact the Ulliam were bred as a slave race by the Gyssyc, he felt extra sensitive about how that appeared. He wanted to be treated as an equal, he wanted other humans to look at him and not see an Ulliam who wanted to please but as a Corps officer who was doing his duty. He was proud of the uniform he wore. Being the first Ulliam officer in the Corps was not a position he took lightly.
The Ulliam were short, stocky creatures with thick, badly wrinkled gray hides. In a battle it was hard to take an Ulliam down with just one shot and, in most cases, it took three or four to do the job. Ulliam heads were situated between two high shoulder blades making it look as if they were in the middle of a permanent shrug. Their shoulders were as expressive as a human’s face and often displayed emotions in sublet movements. The Commander decided it was the shoulders that always made him look silly wearing human uniforms.
He walked out of his room and down the hallway of the Arwen. Everything was polished to perfection. The grey bulkheads gleamed bright as light from the newly installed system shined on them. The red carpet had been cleaned three times before he gave the crew the okay. The crew members he passed all saluted him diligently, their uniforms pressed and cleaned on an order from him. He felt pride in his work here, and he worked hard to get the Arwen up and running since the Captain left.
As he approached the hanger, he started to see the band members he had commissioned waiting for him outside. Of the over 2,000 crew he could only find about 100 who could play instruments. Of them, he found 40 who played them well enough to become part of that welcoming home ceremony. He passed trumpet, drum, trombone, flute and clarinet players. In front of them were the tubas, the bass and violin section. It was a nice complement of players, another thing he was happy about.
He stood in front of them then placing his arms behind his back. “Okay, the Captain’s shuttle is landing in a few minutes. I want you all to be ready to file out the second we get the all clear. I have told the pilots to wait for my command before letting the Captain leave. Let’s give her the welcome she deserves.”
So they waited outside in the hallway. Occasionally, one of the shining brass instruments would touch the wall giving a loud or a soft clang, depending on the instrument. A few of the flutist blew air into their flutes to keep them warm. The trombone player was moving the slide back and forth to a tune that must have been playing inside his head. He had his eyes closed and was
tapping his foot to some silent rhythm. Perhaps it was the waiting but to the Commander it felt as if it was taking longer for the shuttle to land than normal.
Finally, he got word the shuttle had landed and it was safe to enter the hanger. The door opened and, two by two, the band strutted out playing an old medley of Earth songs. He didn’t know the songs but had been told that the first one was called ‘the Star-Spangled Banner.' The second ‘hail to the chief’ and the third ‘an ode to a Star Ship captain.’ The last one was relatively modern and was played whenever a new ship had been launched.
It was all noise to his ears, but he knew humans enjoyed the sound of a band playing. He held his hands up and the band stopped walking. He then traversed the remaining twenty feet and stood where the ramp to the shuttle would descend. He waited for that moment. The door opened, and a smiling Captain Cook stood at the top. She looked over at the band, folded her arms and nodded her head in time with the music. She waited for them to finish and when they played the last note to the last song she laughed then clapped. “Well done! Well done!”
She walked down the ramp to an awaiting Commander Pippleton. “Welcome onboard, Captain,” he said and saluted.
“At ease, Commander,” Captain Cook said after returning the salute. “That was some entrance. How long have you been planning it?”
“Not long, maybe a month or so. I knew you would be gone a while and I knew we had to welcome you back to your ship in a way befitting a highly decorated Captain.”
“This is wonderful, Commander. I want you to give everyone involved, including yourself, an extra week of shore leave when we return from our missing.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Commander Pippleton dismissed the band and the two walked out of the hanger.
“How have things been progressing?” Captain Cook asked. She seemed eager to cut to the chase; it was a trait the Commander liked in her.
“Very well. I can’t wait for you to see the improvements we’ve made. I believe you’ll be impressed.”
“I’m just happy to be back.”
“The first thing you’d like to see will be the bridge. We have worked hard getting it ready for your return.”
“Have they worked on my office or the meeting rooms?”
“No, I believe those will be upgraded during our next stop. They have also started work on a new generator which will allow us to eventually carry one Gamma laser which will have to have installed in a few years.”
“I don’t even want to think about the ensuing few years; I just want to live in the now. Commander have you had a change to look over our latest mission?”
“Yes, I have!” He said excitingly. “First, we are to pick up Professor Ricter from Ulliam. Once he and his team are onboard, we are to enter Wormhole space and set a course toward the Small Magellan Cloud. Between here and there, we are to come out of Wormhole space over a planet which the Professor wants to study.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you did your homework.”
They stood outside the door to the bridge and opened it. Marjorie walked in and looked around, in awe at what she saw. It wasn’t just a renovation of the bridge, they had taken the entire old bridge apart and replaced it with a brand-new one.
The Captain’s chair sat in the middle of the room. One large circular computer screen hung from the ceiling and surrounded the chair which could spin around to view any part of the screen. The armrest of the chair had a lettered keyboard split between the two rests right where Marjorie’s fingers would normally rest. It would be easy for her, once she learned the interface, to pull up any menu and any reading from any part of the ship.
“Each screen will provide you with a very high level of resolution from the new cameras located outside the ship.” Commander Pippleton said. “You can call up any image, both from the exterior and the interior cameras. All the blind spots have been eliminated.”
“That’s great,” Marjorie said. “I always hated them.”
“Also, the new display will provide you with complete control of the bridge. With a few simple keyboard strokes or, if you prefer, finger swipes on the screen themselves, you can view all the bridge computer readings. You can also take over a station if you need to. In fact, in a pinch you can take over all the stations.”
“Well, let’s hope I never have to do that. If I’m controlling all the stations then something really major has gone wrong.”
“Indeed,” The Commander replied with a humor shrug. “Also, each station can take over another station. Anyone below, with your authorization, can connect to another station.”
“So I take it that the new crew will be trained to operate any station on the bridge?”
“That is correct.”
To Marjorie this was good news. There was nothing more frustrating than having your communication officer hurt with no replacement available to help. The bridge crew normally only trained to do the one thing they were assigned; they would rotate eventually but when someone got proficient in their one specialty they would move to another ship that needed that talent. After the war, the Corps decided the bridge crews needed to be flexible, it was nice to see that policy in action.
“This isn’t the most impressive part,” Commander Pippleton said. “Each camera is also slaved to the new hologram room. Would you like to see what we can do?”
“Sounds exciting, lead the way, Commander.”
******
Marjorie felt as if she were standing on an invisible platform while surrounded by a million stars. She looked around at the cage which surrounded the Arwen and could see hundreds of individual people, all in force fields, floating between the giant beams. To her right was an Earth half in shadow, half in light. The Sun was to the left of that and above her; she saw the moon.
The moon had taken a beating in the Gyssyc war. The bases which, in the past, covered the surface from horizon to horizon, lighting the moon like a humongous Christmas tree ornament, where gone. All she could see now were dark black scorch marks where they previously stood. The moon still had some bases but it was nowhere near the peak they had once been. It would take decades to get back to that point.
“Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” The Commander said looking as if he and the control panel he stood behind were also floating in space.
“How are we doing this?” She asked.
“The computer is taking information from the cameras and combining them into one mosaic which the holograph room displays in real time.”
“This will be invaluable in combat,” Marjorie said. One of the major problems with space combat was not being able to view the battle from all directions. Three dimensional fighting was as old as the first airplane, and they were taught to think of how a 360 degree battle should be fought but until now, it seemed she could only see the battle like that in her mind. Now she could be in the middle giving orders and maneuvering into a position not based on a hunch but based on actual, real-time data. The thought sent a chill of excitement down her back. This was going to save lives.
“It gets even better. In combat all the ship’s cameras send information back to the flag ship. The computer can then combine all that information and create an even bigger picture of the battle. We can see the battle from the eyes of any ships inside the battle sphere or even pull out from the sphere and see it from the outside. That, however, takes a lot of computer power and is only recommended for a ship not fighting in the battle.”
“Amazing,” She said. “What else can it do?”
“We can view in any wavelength. We can slave in scanning information and display it here. We can run scans from here. We can fire a probe and have the information from the probe displayed. Oh, and we can do this.” He ran his fingers over the computer screen and image changed from outside, to inside the engine room. “We can view any station as if we were there.”
“Private rooms don’t have this, do they?”
“No, only the main hallways, the engine room, the partic
le accelerator room, the bridge, the recreation areas, the computer labs and all the gun and missile stations.”
“This is going to be a nice little toy to play with,” Captain Cook said. “Is there anything else you’d like to show me?”
“No, Captain, I believe that’s it for now. I’ll take you on a more detailed tour of the minor changes when we’re in wormhole space.”
“Good, are we ready to head to Ulliam?”
“All repairs are done. The crew outside is simply doing a quick clean up. We can be ready to leave within the hour. All you need to do is give the word.”
“Get the ship ready, we head off to Ulliam within the hour.” She gave a satisfied nod. A scientific mission with her old friend and an Arwen which hasn’t been in this good a shape in a very long time. To her it seemed more like a vacation, and she was looking forward to the boredom.
Chapter three
Professor Ricter quickly discovered it was hard to find a good gift in the market places of Ulliam. Most of them seemed to cater more toward tourist, but he eventually walking into a small shop and found something he hoped Marjorie would like. With the gift in hand, he walked up to the counter, placed his gift on the scanner and paid for it. It was cheap, but he knew the Captain didn’t put any value in how much something costs; it was always the thought that counted.
He and the Captain had been through a lot together. When they first met he thought of her as just another self-important Captain. It took some time but after they faced several life-and-death situations together he saw in her someone he could depend on. She seemed to be the only person who trusted his word over his findings. She didn’t need any evidence when, three years ago, he told her he thought Ulliam would plunge into the sun. It was hard to find someone who he could not only trust to believe a theory like that but to stand by you as you gathered the data to prove it right.
He walked out of the store and into the heat of an Ulliam summer. He looked up at the sun as it passed behind a cloud and frowned. How do you solve this problem? How do you prevent a planet from falling into the sun? The Gyssyc, who thousands of years ago faced the same problem, decided the best way was to place a large satellite moon close enough to the planet that it pulled it away as it swung around the sun. Eventually, that stabilized the orbit of Ulliam. The planet, the moon and the sun were in perfect synch and would have continued to be had it not been for the Ulliam/Gyssyc war. He was on the Arwen during the final battle when Ulliam ships were appearing from wormholes heading toward the Gyssyc battle ship. Each ship had fully charged participle accelerators, each with hundreds of strangelets, each on a suicide run to destroy the enemy. One ship appeared too close to the moon and was caught in its gravity. The Corps did all they could to stop the inevitable but there was nothing anyone could have done once the ship hit the moon’s thin atmosphere. It exploded and released its store of strangelets. Any particle that touches a strangelet turns into a strangelet. It spread like a virus through the atmosphere eventually touching the surface, destroying everything as it spread. It was over within minutes and when the giant wormhole the moon had formed evaporated there was nothing left of the moon.
The Arwen Book two: Manifest Destiny Page 2