Midshipman Henry Gallant in Space (The Henry Gallant Saga)

by H. Peter Alesso

  Chests heaving and arms dragging, with shirts soaked and breath labored, Gallant imagined the three of them were a ragged sight. To revitalize them, he got three bottles of water from a nearby dispenser. They sat on the seats of available workout machines, consuming the liquid and gasping every few swallows.

  “I think yoga might help your training program,” suggested Kelsey, looking at Red.

  “This body wasn’t meant for those kinds of contortions.”

  “Your lop-sided dimensions shouldn’t be a serious impediment,” she said, pursing her lips into a grin, enjoying the chance to bait the oversized pilot.

  “I think, you’re the one who's size-challenged." He moved to the edge of his seat and stretched his elongated arms to pat her on the head. "Anyway, why are you picking on me? It’s Henry who’s the freak,” he chortled.

  “Don’t pull your punches, Red,” she said, letting her grin expand into a broad smile, “let Henry really have it!”

  “Oh. Why am I a freak?” asked Gallant, his face contorted in bewilderment. He looked back and forth from Red to Kelsey and back to Red.

  “Henry, don’t be so sensitive,” said Red, giving Gallant a friendly poke. “You must know that everyone talks about you behind your back. You should be open to discussing your peculiarities with your friends.”

  “What Red, is trying to say,” Kelsey said tactfully, “is that you need to change how you think about yourself, Henry. You’re not just a little different,” she paused and licked her lips, searching for the right words. “From our perspective, you’re unique. You’re literally one in a billion.”

  Completely nonplussed, Gallant did not reply.

  “Henry, Henry, Henry, how can I explain?” she said. “Every midshipman pilot on this ship can fly an Eagle, using a neuron interface. It allows them to literally fly a huge powerful antimatter space fighter, traveling at 1,860 miles a second with their thoughts - instantaneous control by mere thought.”

  “That’s true, but it took a century to develop that technology,” replied Gallant.

  “Sure. It started with implanting chips into the brain,” contributed Red.

  Kelsey moved closer to Gallant and began speaking in a helpful voice, “Then genetic engineering, which had only been used to eliminate birth defects and disease, was transformed to create designer enzymes and hormones. They radically altered brain chemistry. Today, those ingredients allow pilots to network directly into AI machines, through their neuron interface.”

  “That’s my point,” said Red, getting excited. “After a century of trying, only those who were genetically enhanced could make the neuron interface function efficiently." He waited an uneasy second then added, "Until you.”

  “That’s why you’re special. You were born to be a fighter pilot — a Natural,” concluded Kelsey. “The question everyone wants to know is, are you a once-in-a-century affair, or the first of your kind? You’ll have to admit, it’s a rather intriguing prospect.”

  “That’s why you got into the academy. That’s why you’re here. That’s why Caine was observing you at the mock battle. You’re being watched,” said Red, sucking his checks until he had squished his face into prune.

  “Now you’re exaggerating,” said Gallant, but casting a look over his shoulder, nonetheless.

  “Henry, you've got to think big. This is the century of genetic mind enhancement. It happens, however, that some are more talented than others. That’s why we’re not all pilots,” said Kelsey, blushing.

  “Think of it in terms of a sociological revolution,” said Red, spreading his arms wide to demonstrate the scope of the issue he was addressing.

  “You mean like the Industrial Revolution?” asked Gallant.

  Kelsey touched Gallant’s shoulder, “Exactly. Only while our 22nd Century Mind Revolution may have started with genetically enhanced neuron interfaces, you may be the fore bearer of something different - a future where mind control of AI machines can be accomplished without an interface. Control by mere thought. That’s why Neumann resents you so much.”

  “Oh, so you noticed, did you?” asked Gallant, nodding his head for emphasis.

  “You’re stealing his spotlight,” she said.

  -------------------------------

  Gallant had just fallen asleep when he heard Red’s muffled yelping, “Hey, stop poking me! What do you want?”

  “Mr. Gallant? Mr. Gallant?” a whispered voice queried.

  “No. He’s in the upper,” growled Red, as he rolled over to return to sleep.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Huh ..., Mr. Gallant?” said the intruder redirecting his attention to the top bunk. “It’s Chief Howard, sir. I need you to get up right away. I need you in the communication shack. An emergency data feed from a space probe is arriving. Do you hear me? Mr. Gallant…?”

  “Lights,” said Gallant. They came on, just as he sprang from his bunk. He had one leg into his trousers and one arm into his shirt, even while he was stepping into a shoe.

  “Can I come too?” asked Red, throwing off his blanket.

  Howard shrugged, deferring to Gallant.

  Gallant said, “Get dressed.” But he didn’t wait. He followed Howard at full speed through the common room on the way to CIC.

  Gallant was surprised at how fast Red moved his bulky frame when he arrived only a spilt second behind.

  Howard said, “Haggman, explain the nature of the data dump to Mr. Gallant.”

  “Yes, Chief,” said Haggman. “Sir, we are receiving a directional burst transmission from Deep Space Probe 161. That probe has been on a reconnaissance mission near Saturn for the past four months. It began transmitting an unscheduled data dump just seven minutes ago. The usual dump is on the first of the month. That optimizes the trade-off between stealth and data collection.” Haggman hesitated, as if he were uncertain about how much detail to reveal.

  The Deep Space Probe (DSP) was a tiny unmanned missile that passively collected data on clandestine missions. It reported its findings through directional burst transmissions. There were a number of probes exploring the outer planets specifically to scout the aliens.

  Haggman said, “We only get unscheduled dumps if the probe’s AI system determines it has an uncontrollable equipment failure, or if the probe has been detected. In either case, the AI will transmit a complete data dump and then self-destruct.”

  Gallant tapped his comm pin and said, “Captain.”

  He only had to wait a few seconds. “Captain, here,” came a groggy reply.

  “Captain, we have an unscheduled data dump from a probe conducting recon on Saturn.”

  “Okay. I’m coming.”

  Gallant stepped away from the compartment’s entrance and tugged at Red’s loose shirt. He only just succeeded in removing the large obstacle, when Caine burst into the compartment.

  “Go ahead Haggman, report on the data,” said Gallant.

  “Yes, sir. The initial information was a repeat of last month’s data. But in the last couple of minutes, we began getting updated images and statistics.” Haggman squirmed in his seat, not accustomed to being the center of attention of his commanding officer.

  Chief Howard spoke up, “Captain, Midshipman Mitchel is on duty in CIC Analysis. She can compare the new data with our last evaluated situation report.”

  Caine nodded.

  “I’ll get her,” said Gallant, stepping out and waved to Kelsey.

  Kelsey strolled confidently forward. She had been monitoring the flurry of activity in the communication’s shack and was ready to act. She bound in and plugged a memory clip into the console.

  “Captain, I’ve grabbed the data analysis we’ve been working on. You got a briefing on most of it just two days ago,” said Kelsey, working furiously to integrate her analyzed data against the new information.

  Caine ran a hand through his close-cropped hair impatiently. His other hand smoothed his rumbled uniform. It was obvious he had been sleeping in it. Gallant wondered if the alien activities we
re placing an additional strain on the captain.

  “You can see here,” she said, pointing to a section of a virtual screen display before them. “We broke down the information numbers according to the satellites of Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto. It includes composite estimates of alien bases and ships.”

  “You mean guesses, don’t you, Midshipman?” asked Caine with a resigned smile.

  “Well, sir, I’ve often heard you say, that an expert’s educated guess can be nearly as good as fact.”

  Caine blinked, but didn’t respond.

  Kelsey tried to disguise a disappointed look, “Should I call Lieutenant Mather, sir?”

  “You can fill in your department head later, Midshipman Mitchel. Right now, I want the expert opinion of my CIC analyst,” said Caine.

  Kelsey, her confidence restored, said, “The estimates I gave you two days ago, were for the Titans' industry and population infrastructure, as well as some preliminary assumptions about military strength. This display shows the number of energy emission sites, indicating communities, industrial, and mining operations in hundreds of locations. Our population estimates range from one to ten million for just Saturn’s satellites. We have a few crude estimates for Uranus, but we have been unsuccessful in getting a probe to Neptune or Pluto. I think they must have some kind of extensive sensor array near those locations that detect the probes, causing them to self-destruct.”

  “Yes, I see. Now show me the overlay of the updated raw data.”

  She adjusted the virtual screen to overlay the information. “Our population estimates don’t support a long term civilization on Saturn, unless there are billions more underground. But they would need a huge underground industry, as well. My guess would be they have inhabited Saturn's moons for less than a century. The Titans' home of origin must be further out. These updated images do not add very much and the statistics collected on ship traffic in the area are in line with our past information.” She stopped momentarily as she realized, “Mmm ..., the transmission terminated abruptly. We are missing the final output. There doesn’t appear to be much new here captain.”

  Caine said, “Things may not be what they appear."

  “If the aliens would only communicate in some way,” said Kelsey.

  Caine said, “The president has broadcasted messages to the Titans requesting we exchange representatives, but we’ve had no response from them, or from any of the many encounters with their scout ships.”

  Gallant thought, It seems as if the mere act of communicating will disadvantage them in some way. But he quickly dismissed the speculation from his mind as fruitless.

  Caine ordered, “If we don’t get accurate intelligence, we will face dangerous surprises before long. Mr. Gallant, prepare to launch another probe to Saturn. Midshipman Mitchel help him set the parameters. ”

  “Yes, sir. I would, also, like to try another probe to Neptune. If we strip it down to bare bones, we might have some success getting through whatever sensor array they’ve deployed. Though, that will mean a very slow voyage,” suggested Kelsey.

  “All right, coordinate that with Mr. Gallant, as well. I hope we have the time. In any case, I think it’s time we came up with a few surprises of our own,” said Caine with a cagey look on his face.

  -------------------------------

  An hour later, Gallant and Red were returning to Midshipmen’s quarters. As they walked through the corridor, Red said, “You saw the images with your own eyes. There were hundreds of ships around Saturn and we can’t even guess how many there are near the outer planets.”

  “I don’t know what I saw. Kelsey classified most of those ships as cargo ships or transports, only a hundred or so were possible warships.”

  “A hundred or so? Do you hear yourself? You say that like it’s a good thing.”

  “What’s your opinion of Captain Caine?” asked Gallant abruptly, lost in thought.

  "He's a great CO. Why?”

  “I think that before too long, we’re going to be glad he’s in command of the Jupiter frontier,” Gallant spoke with a faraway look in his eyes.

  CHAPTER 11

  The unrestrained sky permitted an expansive view of the heavens as Flights 3 and 4 escorted Repulse’s shuttlecraft to the surface of Ganymede and the Ganymede Research Laboratory. Flight 3 consisted of two Eagles fighters piloted by Neumann and Chui, while Flight 4’s Eagles were piloted by Red and Gallant. On board the shuttlecraft were the Repulse’s Science Department Head, Commander Jackson and her staff of three science officers.

  The landing beacons guided the ships to the moon’s surface. Volcanic islands of circular cones protruded from rough mountainous terrain along the horizon which surrounded the smooth gravel-tar landing strip. Valleys of cooling lava flowed over the irregular surface signifying the evolving nature of the moon. As the spacecraft landed, the Ganymede director was notified.

  The Repulse study team, consisting of the four scientists, four pilots and four astrogators, disembarked and strode under the light gravity, only fourteen percent of Earth’s, toward several small hangars. Only the landing hangars and a few relatively small buildings were visible above ground. Constructing the accelerator’s magnets, delicate devices and long linear tubes underground was necessitated by the very real danger of meteorites.

  The Ganymede laboratory consisted of elaborate research facilities and one of UP’s largest particle accelerators. The Ganymede accelerator was the most powerful physicist's tool available on the Jupiter frontier. With it they were able to explore the dynamics and structure of matter and space-time. The accelerator was their aid for unraveling high energy particle interactions of matter made from leptons (electrons) and quarks, as well as, bosons (photons and gluons). It used electromagnetic fields to propel charged particles within well-defined magnetically controlled beams to high speeds. This particular accelerator was a synchrotron which could reach the very highest energies for antiprotons production (billions of electron volts, or GeV) in a ring of constant radius of about 8 miles.

  The accelerator’s primary mission was to produce and store antiprotons for the engines of the UP ships. However, during normal operations it was possible to siphon off a small fraction of the particle stream into side branches for experimentation. As a result, the over one thousand personnel at the facility could engage in various aspect of research – from direct experimentation to computer simulations and analysis.

  “Welcome Commander,” said laboratory director, Dr. Edward Lawrence. “We're glad to have you and your team visit.”

  Lawrence was a small middle-aged man with a foxlike face. He had to look up at Jackson, a large woman with strong features.

  “Thank you, Dr. Lawrence. We’re glad to be here. We’re excited to learn more about your recent experiments. Captain Caine hopes some of them can be transformed into useful technology – something that might make a difference on the Jupiter frontier in the near future. I hope you don’t mind, I asked a few pilots and astrogators to join our evaluation team. Their nimble minds and hands-on experience may offer some useful insights.”

  “Quite possibly, quite possibly. We’re glad to have you observe our progress. A few of our more inspired researchers have produced some provocative results. Come along. We have a great deal to show you.”

  Dr. Lawrence led the members of the Repulse group on a tour of the extensive underground facility. Gallant, Red and Kelsey walked together, chatting about the elaborate structural supports for the underground corridors. Neumann and Chui were close behind them listening attentively. A group consisting of several of the lab’s scientists was waiting at the first of the experimental workshops.

  “We have three distinct investigations that have had some fruitful results. At this workshop, our team has successfully replicated Earth’s invisibility experiments.”

  The young scientific team consisted of a beanstalk of a scientist and three youths. The youngest of this team was Elizabeth Bolton an attractive woman who couldn’t have
been much older than Gallant. As she stepped forward to present the team’s findings, she stopped and stared with apparent interest at the fighter pilots. Then she extended her arm to point at the impressive apparatus before them.

  “We have created an energy source powerful enough to cloak an entire building. The process starts by coating the target object with a meta-material. The meta-material is created by embedding nano-implants that force electromagnet waves to bend in unusual ways. By attaching a power source, we can manipulate the index of refraction inside the meta-material. This bends light around the object, like a river flowing around a boulder. The result is that it renders the object effectively invisible to the entire electromagnetic spectrum, from x-rays to microwaves.”

  “Would it be possible to cloak a ship?” asked Jackson.

  “Yes, eventually,” said Elizabeth. “Though for now it would take several months to install this apparatus on your battle cruiser. It would also mean cannibalizing a lot of ship systems and missiles storage compartments to make room. On the other hand, I understand that a shipyard on Earth has begun construction on a ship with similar cloaking technology.”

  “I’ve heard the same thing, but that ship wouldn’t be completed for over a year,” said Jackson, nodding.

  “Would it be possible to cloak the entire aboveground hangar and buildings?” asked Gallant. He spoke before he realized that his very junior status might make it inappropriate.

  All eyes turned toward Gallant for a moment. Then Elizabeth responded, “Why yes, given the proximity to the existing experimental building. We could effectively cloak our entire aboveground facility in just a few weeks,” she said. Then turning to Commander Jackson, she asked, “Is that something Captain Caine might desire?”

  Gallant remained silent, and Jackson said, “Yes. It would improve the defensive position of this laboratory.”

  Dr. Lawrence stepped forward and said, “Very well, I’ll make arrangements for that. Now let’s move on to the next workshop,”