Midshipman Henry Gallant in Space (The Henry Gallant Saga)

by H. Peter Alesso

  “They have a space station at Titan that has a field generator that distorts their emissions, and it’s tough to evaluate. The aliens are going to try and surprise us with their actual strength and play misdirection, as much as possible,” said Gallant.

  “Look at these images around Titan. Would you say they are orbital fortresses?” asked Kelsey.

  There was a thoughtful silence while they considered the information. “The probe has been collecting emissions from the ships to identify them, but it’s also collecting communication signals between ships and facilities. We can make neither hide nor hair of what the signals are,” said Howard.

  “That can’t be right. You mean you can’t decrypt or decode them?” asked Gallant.

  “I mean the signals are a combination of dots, dashes, musical tone, frequency oscillations, and harmonics combined into a complex pattern that weaves them together beyond our understanding. I mean I can’t tell if it’s a language, an encrypted language, or if we’re getting their music videos,” said Howard.

  Once again, they remained lost in their own thoughts.

  “This information means that at least they will not achieve a complete strategic and tactical surprise. We have an opportunity to prepare,” said Kelsey.

  “Nevertheless, this is going to be a massive attack that will test our strength,” said Gallant.

  As the meeting was winding down, Captain Caine arrived and listened to their findings. He said, “Mr. Gallant, I want you and Midshipman Mitchel to go to Ganymede — immediately — and brief Colonel Ridgewood of the 7th Marines about what he may be up against. In addition, I want you to send Chief Howard and a team of communication techs to set up a stealth relay communication satellite, so Ridgewood can stay in contact with Repulse while he’s in deep underground bunkers.”

  -------------------------------

  Landing beacons guided Flight 4 and a shuttlecraft onto the touchdown pad for the Ganymede Research Laboratory. The surrounding valley was alive with volcanic plumes of ash and lavaflow activity. Chief Howard and his communication team left to set up the relay communication link. Red’s astrogator went with them.

  As they marched in step along the corridor on their way to meet with Colonel Ridgewood, Kelsey said to Red and Gallant, “We need to talk.”

  “What’s on your mind,” asked Red.

  “I wanted to congratulate Henry for his exchange of ideas in the common room. He really made a breakthrough,” said Kelsey.

  “Do you really think so?” asked Gallant.

  “I do. Your performance over the past three months as a pilot in Flight 4 has exceeded everyone’s expectations. The Mids are beginning to see you as an equal, and the discussion today has finally broken the ice. I think, the silent treatment is over,” said Kelsey.

  “Thanks, that means a lot,” said Gallant, displaying a grin.

  “I’ve heard Barrington and several others express similar feelings,” said Red. “They all feel you’ve held up your end pretty well—with the exception of Neumann and Chui.”

  Red made an excuse to leave once they entered the inner lab facilities. “I’ve got some unfinished business,” he said tersely.

  “I’m sure you do,” said Gallant, “but since you may just run into Elizabeth, would you mind getting a report on efforts to camouflage the aboveground accelerator facilities. I believe the captain would appreciate an update.”

  Red blushed and then flashed a broad grin. “Sure thing, Henry,” he said, leaving Kelsey and Gallant to proceed to their meeting.

  They passed civilian workers and lab personnel calmly carrying out their daily routines. The individuals went about their business with sober purposeful steps.

  Kelsey commented, “You’d never guess they were facing an alien invasion.”

  Gallant said, “Pioneers are a hardy stock. It takes a lot to shake them. I think they’ll hold up well against any hardship.”

  The two made their way to the main conference room, where Dr. Lawrence and Colonel Ridgewood were waiting. Their briefing went rapidly, and both of the senior men were quick to grasp the essentials of their plight.

  Ridgewood asked, “If there is an invasion force, how much fleet support can I count on?”

  “Captain Caine said he would make every effort to defend Ganymede, but it’s likely the fleet will have its hands full,” said Gallant. “My communication division is currently setting up a satellite relay so that you will be able to stay in touch with the fleet during the action.”

  Ridgewood asked, “What tactics would be most effect against these methane breathers?”

  Kelsey said, “Their landing forces will undoubtedly wear body armor and their own methane-breathing apparatus. We believe they will fight with conventional hand laser and plasma weapons.”

  Ridgewood asked, “You don't think their fleet will conduct a nuclear bombardment of the surface and attempt to exterminate the civilians?”

  “Our analysis team doesn’t believe so,” said Kelsey.

  “Why not?” asked an incredulous Ridgewood.

  “For the same reason they haven’t already tried to bombard our planets with nuclear weapons. Either they fear retaliation, or they have an ethical threshold, and genocide crosses the line for them, just as it would for us. Commander Jackson feels that this colony of Titans must still have elders back on their home star that may, someday, hold them accountable for their behavior. That said, there is no assurance that the war couldn’t escalate at some point,” said Kelsey.

  “Well, my marines will be ready for anything, including close-in combat. Our heavy weapons company is deployed around the accelerator since it’s critical to the fleet’s long term operations on the Jupiter frontier. Hopefully, the invisibility shield will hide the facility and prevent a direct assault there. Regardless, I’m deploying one battalion to defend the lab and accelerator. Another battalion will defend Jupiter Station, and the remaining one will hold Ganymede's capital city, Kendra,” said Ridgewood.

  “Likewise, the civilian population is preparing throughout the Jupiter colonies. They are stocking food and life-support supplies and transporting them into underground shelters,” said Dr. Lawrence.

  After a while, Gallant and Kelsey left the men to proceed with their preparations, while the midshipmen went to look up Jake’s son, Sergeant Bernstein, who was with the marines deployed around the accelerator.

  They found him on the gun range checking his weapon sights by using his AI-controlled rifle to identify and center on targets. After firing pellet rounds, laser beams, and plasma blasts from different available magazines, he looked at the midshipmen. He asked, “You know my dad?”

  “I met him when I reported for duty and again when I had to travel to Jupiter Station. We traded background stories, and he was very kind to me,” said Gallant. "I told him that if I ever had a chance, I'd look you up. He seemed very pleased about that."

  “That’s Dad,” the marine said with pride.

  The three of them chatted amiably for some minutes until it was time for Gallant and Kelsey to leave.

  “Is there anything we can do for you?” asked Gallant.

  “Actually, there is. My family members are scattered over the colonies out here. With the evacuations and restricted communications these days, it’s nearly impossible to locate individuals. Would it be too much to ask for you to try to get a message to my wife and kids, on Europa?” asked Bernstein.

  “Don’t worry; I can find them. Just record your message on this memory stick,” said Gallant confidently.

  Bernstein went into a secluded corner and quietly recorded his message. His face was somber as he pressed the recording into Gallant’s hand. He said, “You don’t know what this means to me.” He quickly left.

  Kelsey and Gallant made their way to the laboratory’s huge viewing dome and found Red and Elizabeth sitting in one corner. Gallant couldn’t be sure, but he thought Elizabeth had been crying. Red had his arm protectively around her shoulder.

&
nbsp; The four of them sat together for a long time, stealing glances at each other, no one giving voice to their concerns. All too soon, it was time to leave.

  CHAPTER 16

  Captain Caine began preparing his fleet to meet the enemy. He ordered all ships to conduct system checks, repair essential equipment, update maintenance, and complete any last-minute training of personnel. This led to a flurry of activity and the next day Gallant followed the XO and Neumann into the captain’s cabin. It had been three months since Gallant reported aboard Repulse. The XO had just signed off on all his certification endorsements for his advanced fighter qualification.

  “GridScape marks him passed on all advanced fighter exams and simulation training courses, Captain,” said the XO.

  “Excellent,” said Captain Caine, looking pleased. “Are you ready for your final flight test, Mr. Gallant?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I assume the XO has explained the process. You will proceed independently from Jupiter Station, circumnavigate Jupiter, and return to Repulse. You will have a flight monitor in the Eagle’s second seat instead of your astrogator. He will not assist you in any way. You are to do all the navigation and engineering duties yourself. The flight monitor will initiate computer failures and simulations into your ship’s AI. While the accidents will not actually cripple the equipment, the AI will lock them out as non-functioning until the flight monitor reinstates them. For example, if one of your twin engines is marked damaged, you will have to fly on one engine. If your environmental system is tagged as inoperable, you will have to ration the air supply until you return. A complete menu of system failures and accidents are is available to the flight monitor, and he will decide when and which problems you will encounter—all at his discretion. Any questions?”

  “No, sir,”

  “I see Mr. Neumann has volunteered to be your flight monitor,” said Caine.

  Gallant winced. He knew he was in for a bad time, but he had no recourse.

  Caine addressed Neumann, “At all times, you are ultimately responsible for the safety of the spacecraft. If for any reason Mr. Gallant fails to correctly respond to the accident scenarios you designate, you will terminate the exam, take over the spacecraft, and return to Repulse. Are you ready, Mr. Neumann?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very well, gentlemen. Proceed to the hangar. You have permission for your flight exam.”

  With Neumann sitting in the second seat, Gallant pulled on his neural interface gear and took off. He jockeyed his Eagle fighter away from Jupiter Station.

  The flight was scheduled to last for most of the day, even though the fighter could complete the 6.3- million- miles circumnavigation of Jupiter (at a distance of one million miles) in one hour at 0.01c. The accidents and system failures that Neumann was expected to introduce would undoubtedly lead to considerable delays and difficulties.

  For almost exactly thirty minutes, the Eagle flew flawlessly. Then when they had reached the opposite side of Jupiter, alarms and warning lights seemed to emerge from every corner of the cockpit. Gallant interpreted the AI representation of the ship and its emergency through his neuron interface.

  Gallant used his mental image to evaluate the virtual information data feeds.

  The AI reported, “Simulated fires in port and starboard engines - control panel and main electrical panel fused – atmospheric supplies contaminated – rupture of the antimatter plasma containment field – other casualties involving additional equipment are also starting to register."

  Without hesitation he cut the engines, stopped the environmental equipment and pulled the plug on internal cockpit power. He initiated fire suppression systems, manually, and he began to seal himself in his protective armored suit.

  He noted that Neumann had already sealed himself in his suit.

  Gallant began remedial action to assess the damage and evaluate his corrective actions.

  As he expected, Neumann threw the ‘kitchen sink’ into this accident scenario. Gallant recognized that Neumann had ‘red tagged’ so much equipment that it made his initial task difficult, but once he got a grip on the problems and repaired them, Neumann wouldn’t have much more he could do.

  “Give up?” asked Neumann, wearing his broadest smirk.

  “No,” Gallant responded defiantly.

  “Why not? You will fail eventually.”

  “Why don't you just let me compete?”

  “Because you can’t,” said Neumann.

  “Why don’t you just let me try?”

  “Because,” Neumann said, color rising in his cheeks. “I know that when it counts, you’ll let us down. Face it, the human race has moved on.”

  “Can’t you even consider that you may be wrong? Maybe one of the downsides of genetic engineering is that it eliminates the random mutations that offer new avenues for human development. Humanity could miss the next true branch in evolution.”

  “And that’s supposed to be someone like you? You're pretty full of yourself. Besides, it’s ridiculous. By eliminating weaknesses and reinforcing strengths, we guarantee superior development. You need to accept that you will eventually fall short.”

  “I’m going to prove you wrong!”

  Gallant stopped talking and gave his full attention to analyzing the signals.

  After four hours, Neumann said, “We’ve been stranded here for hours; it’s time for you to concede failure. Only those with the best genetic bloodlines should be officers. You just don’t have the capability. These complex AI interfacing problems are beyond you.”

  Gallant ignored the taunt and continued to work on unraveling the casualty.

  Eight hours passed; Gallant’s Eagle was drifting in orbit around Jupiter. He worked diligently on his computer system evaluating the various system failures and devising possible workouts. As he figured out the failure modes for each piece of equipment, he submitted his solution to the ship’s AI for evaluation.

  At first, it rejected nearly everything he proposed. But slowly, Gallant was able to first restore ship’s life-support and then he established minimal power for essential items.

  It was nearly ten hours after the start of the accident that he tried to restart an engine.

  Just then, Neumann initiated an additional failure, knocking out his restored power supply.

  That proved to be nearly a fatal complication, and he lost life-support again.

  Gallant knew that if he didn’t satisfactorily resolve this, Neumann would be justified in failing him. Concentrating with all his might, he focused his mind and visualized the ship, its controls, and the system failures, as one image. He then tuned his senses to see the path to recovery. Developing a sense of harmony between controls and performance, he created a solution in his mind’s eye. Despite his exhaustion and lack of food and sleep, he finally submitted his repair concept to the AI. It approved the plan and ruled that both life-support and the minimal power supply were successfully restored.

  Eighteen hours after the accident started, Gallant was able to get one engine operating at twenty-five percent power. It was enough to continue his flight around Jupiter at 0.0025c.

  Without stopping to rest, he worked to restore various other systems including radar and communications. Slowly they approached Repulse.

  In fact, it took a full twenty-four hours before Gallant’s Eagle returned to Jupiter Station. By then nearly every member of the Repulse’s crew had entered the ship’s pool, betting on whether Gallant or Neumann would be flying the fighter.

  The pool paid off big time for Chief Howard when a faint voice was heard over the minimally powered radio, crackling in broken static, “Gallant to Repulse ... request ...permission to dock?” An impromptu cheer went up from the communication division.

  As the captain had requested hours earlier, Howard notified him when the fighter made contact. “Who’s flying?” he asked shortly, before smiling at the response. A few minutes later, Caine pinned the advanced fighter designation—a silver star—on G
allant’s collar next to the thin silver bar, his rank insignia, and shook Gallant’s hand.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Gallant,” said Caine. “You're officially a ‘star’ fighter.”

  "Thank you, sir,” said a jubilant Gallant. As he stood there, justly bursting with pride, he understood that life had its special moments, and this accomplishment would be one of his.

  Caine's expression turned grave. He said, “Mr. Gallant, I’m going to need every ‘star’ fighter I have, over the next week. I’ve got a plan, but it's risky. I’m going to send your squadron as convoy escort partway to Mars.”

  Surprised, Gallant asked, “But what about the Titan fleet, sir?”

  “That's the risk. You’ll have to hotfoot it back to Repulse before the excitement begins!”

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  The dome window revealed a setting sun, as Gallant walked through the heavy ornate glass door of The Lobster Tavern, an upscale restaurant residing along the spiral arm of the entertainment district of Jupiter Station. Red was right beside him, gawking at the lavish cocktail lounge. The furniture and settings were extravagant for a neighborhood so far from home. Everything indicated it had been prepared with immense care, from table’s linen and cutlery, to food, drink and entertainment. Nothing had been left to chance. Gallant could see a waitress bustling around the room, ensuring that the last minute touches were completed for the evening’s activities.

  The main room had been reserved for Squadron 111’s party, in part to celebrate his ‘star,’ and in part as a last liberty before their escort mission. The officers were arriving a few at a time in their civilian attire with their last month’s pay burning a hole in their pockets. Prices for farm-grown lobster and drinks promised to quench those funds soon enough.

  Kelsey Mitchel was dressed in slacks and a sweatshirt that read UPSA. She was sitting in the center of the room, tapping her fingers impatiently on the top of her table. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face into a ponytail that fell across her shoulders. When she wasn’t tapping, she was making faces of displeasure, as if something important of hers had gone astray. With all of that, her classical facial features still made her the most striking woman in the room.