Midshipman Henry Gallant in Space (The Henry Gallant Saga)

by H. Peter Alesso

  Unceasingly, men she knew, as well as locals she didn’t, would come over and try to join her.

  “Hi,” she would say. “It’s great to see you, but I’m waiting for someone.” Then she would tilt her head to one side and flash a big smile that somehow said she was really disappointed and she hoped he would understand. This placated most, but one hopeful suitor remained hovering over her until she spotted Gallant and Red. She stood up, waving her arms excitedly. As they approached, her last admirer capitulated and withdrew.

  Red occupied the chair to Kelsey’s right, and Gallant took the chair on her left. Something about this arrangement was vaguely familiar and unsettling to Gallant. His uncombed tangled hair, casual shirt and khakis, and fresh-faced naiveté attracted a waitress’s attention. She came by to take their order.

  “Beer all around,” said Red, eager to get started before the dinner service.

  To his relief, Gallant’s seventeen-year-old illegal drinking status wasn’t challenged, and as soon as their drinks arrived, Red raised his mug and said, “Here’s to the newest star pilot in the fleet.” They clicked mugs, downed the beer, and brought empty mugs down to the table with three resounding thuds.

  “Again!” shouted Red, to a waitress who was servicing a nearby table.

  She laughed, waved her hand in acknowledgement, and went to fill the order. The crowd was rapidly growing. The combination of civilian garb and alcohol was having its predictable effects. The mood in the room was gay and boisterous.

  Sandy Barrington entered the restaurant and quickly crossed the room. She stopped at Gallant’s table. She tipped her head and waved her hand as if offering a non-verbal congratulation to Gallant.

  Gallant nodded back. He thought, And thanks for your help during requalification training. But already, her eyes were roaming to the farthest corner of the room.

  Gallant looked past the overexcited throng to see what had distracted her. He saw Neumann and Chui sitting at the table looking grim and somber.

  Grim and Somber — those could be their names, thought Gallant.

  Neumann’s good-looks and fashionable civilian attire were attracting stares from many of the young ladies in the room.

  Sandy gazed at Neumann. Suddenly she turned and glared at Kelsey for several seconds. Gallant had a sudden flash of insight into their triangular relationship.

  Sandy moved toward the contentious corner. She sat down next to Neumann and began what looked to be a heated discussion.

  After a few moments, Gallant’s attention returned to his own table when their waitress arrived with another round of beer. Gallant had no sooner filled his mouth with brew than Ed Stevenson came up from behind and slapped him on the back. He said, “Well done, Henry.”

  Gallant struggled to swallow the liquid in his mouth. Then he stood up to greet his friend. “Thanks,” he managed to stammer, extending his hand for the requisite shake.

  He said, “Red, Kelsey, this is Ed Stevenson. He was one of my academy roommates. He’s off the Renown.”

  “Hi,” Red and Kelsey said almost simultaneously.

  “Kelsey, you must be Henry’s astrogator whom I’ve heard so very little about,” Stevenson said with a quizzical smile.

  Gallant quickly diverted the conversation by inviting him to join them. Stevenson plopped down and began drinking beer, but after several minutes, he said, “I hate to leave the party early, but I promised some of my Renown shipmates that I’d meet them just about now. I’ll have to see you later.” He got up and began to leave.

  “I’m sorry to see you leave, Ed,” said Red. “I’d hoped to wheedle a few tales of Gallant’s academy days from you before you left.”

  Kelsey laughed.

  “Next time,” said Stevenson as he waved and quickly became lost in the milling crowd.

  The room continued to fill up and the empty seat next to the bar’s virtual electronic piano was soon taken by Chui, who started to produce amazing tones from the instrument. His selection of songs started with the most popular tunes but soon drifted to some oldies from a bygone era.

  “Kel—sey! Kel—sey! Kel—sey!” The chant was taken up from one table to another. Gallant was surprised when she got up and joined Chui at the bar.

  Calls came from every corner, requesting a half dozen of their favorite songs.

  Midshipmen were seated at various tables around the room, with local patrons choking the bar and surrounding area. The room fell stone silent as soon as she started to sing. She had their full attention. Within moments they were spellbound.

  Kelsey’s lovely voice blended with a sweet melody. The lyrics voiced a love story of passion and farewell. The melancholy tones touched the audience and filled the nightclub with elegance. After several numbers, she returned to her table as a storm of applauses broke over the room.

  “You were marvelous,” said Gallant, expressing his genuine admiration.

  “Thank you,” she said, blushing as if his praise was somehow more meaningful.

  Chui continued to play, and several couples got up to dance.

  Red nodded at Kelsey, while staring at Gallant, as if trying to convey some vital information. Gallant remained befuddled for a minute, which was all the time it took for Neumann to cross the room and ask Kelsey for a dance. She stood up and Neumann took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Chui began to play a romantic melody.

  “It’s been quite an evening,” she said, placing her hand on Neumann’s shoulder, her bright eyes shining with delight.

  “A wonderful evening—thanks to you,” he said as he drew her closer.

  Kelsey nestled comfortably into his arms. Her sweet breathe brushed past his cheek; her soft hand gently caressed the nape of his neck.

  Kelsey and Neumann were such an attractive couple that they invited stares from the evening’s crowd, but they seemed indifferent to their momentary celebrity as the joyful participants of the evening’s festivities swirled around them in rhythm to the music.

  After a few moments, Chui segued into an old-fashioned ‘cha cha.’ As Neumann and Kelsey began the dance, they separated slightly, and Kelsey turned away; Neumann followed behind her—one, two, three, cha, cha, cha. Then, in time with the music, they each turned around to reverse the chase sequence of the outdated dance. There was an impish gleam in Kelsey’s eye.

  “Which do you prefer: being the pursuer or the pursued?” Neumann asked with a grin.

  Kelsey didn’t answer but smiled discreetly as they continued to dance.

  Gallant sat rigidly and watched the couple with a dazed look on his face. To his eye, the old-fashioned dance seemed to provide a hidden metaphor and the participants seemed to be enjoying the byplay.

  Red, shaking his head in disgust, gave Gallant a withering look and said in exasperation, “Klutz!”

  CHAPTER 17

  Forty lumbering merchant ships, trudged through space in a convoy escorted by two destroyers and Squadron 111. The destroyers intended to make the entire journey from Jupiter to Mars. The fighters, scheduled to tag along for only six days, were deployed in a lattice radar formation to detect converging asteroids and any alien ships that wandered into their path. As the ships advanced, the density of the asteroid field increased, along with the level of danger.

  Gallant was surprised at how comfortable and relaxed he felt in his Eagle. His mind felt the control systems, and he adjusted the ship’s trim and thrust vector until it almost purred. His course through the asteroid field was constantly updated by Kelsey’s astrogation computer. She diligently monitored obstacles in their flight path. For each degree in her update, Gallant smoothly adapted the Eagle’s flight path. The ships in the convoy fired their lasers to destroy any meteorites that were a potential danger to the more fragile merchantmen hulls.

  Occasionally, the task-force commander in the lead destroyer, Fletcher, altered the convoy’s course to avoid the worst of the asteroid concentrations. When this happened, Kelsey swiftly laid out their new course.

&
nbsp; Gallant was pleased at how well they worked together. He wanted to tell Kelsey that he appreciated her expertise, but he couldn’t find the words to express this without sounding somehow inappropriate.

  He thought, If only I had Red’s confidence with women.

  Kelsey said, “Caine seems to have found a clever solution to his dilemma.”

  “You’re right,” said Gallant. “He’s planning on having it both ways.”

  “But will it work?” asked Kelsey. Seated tandem, she spoke loud enough for Gallant to hear her over the murmuring of the engines.

  “It should. Max speed of the merchantmen is 0.001c. That’s sixteen million miles per day. In six and a quarter days that’s a hundred million miles. That puts them well into the asteroid belt, but still three hundred eighty million miles short of Mars. There, they’ll rendezvous with Dauntless and Devastator. Then, as Captain Caine says, the squadron can 'hotfoot' it back to Jupiter, before the alien fleet gets there. The battle cruisers and destroyers will escort the convoy the rest of the way.”

  “That’s cutting things close. I wouldn’t want to miss all the action,” said Kelsey with concern.

  “Don’t worry. We won’t," said Gallant.

  As the convoy continued for a little over three days, Kelsey and Gallant alternated taking naps. When Gallant slept, Kelsey had to drive the ship using manual controls. Gallant was gratified to learn how adept she was at making delicate corrections with such blunt instruments.

  But then, the plan changed as far as Gallant and Kelsey were concerned.

  As commander of Squadron 111, Neumann ordered, "Gallant, drop out of formation and escort the Stella Bordeaux while she makes engine repairs. They suffered a fire and internal explosion. Your orders are to provide escort and assist repairs for three days and then return to the Repulse at maximum speed. Under no circumstance are you to fail to rendezvous in three days."

  “Aye, aye, sir,” responded Gallant. He banked his Eagle and positioned it adjacent to the ailing merchantman.

  "Now we have to play nursemaid," said Gallant, biting back a curse. He was frustrated that Neumann had singled him out for the thankless task and visited this problem upon Kelsey as well.

  “Don’t pout. It’s only for a few days,” said Kelsey, as they watched the convoy diminish into a distant point of light. “Besides it’s an independent command, an opportunity to excel!”

  Trust Kelsey to find the silver lining thought Gallant, smiling.

  Gallant contacted the Stella Bordeaux’s captain, Edward Dawson, and asked for a briefing.

  Dawson said, "We had a fire in the reactor compartment. It caused an explosion that breached the hull across both the engine room and the reactor compartment. It produced a serious radioactive gas leak as well. We put a quick internal patch on the engine room, but we couldn’t enter the reactor compartment with the reactor still running. We are conducting an emergency reactor shutdown now. That part of the hull breach can only be sealed externally."

  Gallant said, “Captain Dawson, we request permission to board Stella Bordeaux to visually inspect the damage and decide how best to help seal the hull.”

  “Permission granted—with appreciation.”

  Gallant flew a few loops around the merchantman and scanned the distance with his radar for enemy intruders. Finding none, he docked with the Stella Bordeaux.

  Kelsey and Gallant boarded the ship and walked through the damaged engine room and reactor compartment. Their shielded suits protected them from the radiation leak.

  had Gallant checked the reactor compartment pressure. He was sure it read near the normal range when he first arrived, but now the engine room was showing a dramatic drop in pressure. In fact, all the connected compartments were showing abnormally low pressure readings. The air loss was critically dangerous on its own, but worse, the differential pressure threatened the possibility of valve seals rupturing, which in turn could cause a plasma discharge and a reactor-core meltdown. This would be a disaster.

  Gallant tapped his comm pin and sounded the collision alarm. This made all the hatches and openings automatically seal, to maintain airtight integrity throughout the ship. Gallant concluded that when he had first looked at the pressure in the reactor compartment, the air leak had been masked. The damage in the reactor compartment must have led to the reactor overheating. The rising reactor temperature would typically have made the air pressure in the reactor compartment increase, but due to the leak, the pressure didn’t go up. Instead, it approximately balanced out against the leakage rate, so for a short period of time, the reactor compartment pressure looked nearly normal. The reactor temperature must have been corrected when Dawson started to shut down the reactor. The reactor bled away the air in its chamber and from the adjacent engine room as well. Then it began sucking out the rest of the ship’s air, until just now when Gallant resealed all the openings.

  The Stella Bordeaux was adrift while Gallant, Kelsey and Dawson, devoted their energy to finding a solution to restore power to the ship.

  Dawson had to seal the leak and return the reactor to a safe and reliable condition. Then, the crew would repair the hull and engines, as best as possible, given the scant resources available. Finally, they would need to find a safe route for the Stella Bordeaux, to avoid any wandering alien ships and drifting asteroids. Dawson stood next to Gallant and Kelsey, a frown on his face, as he said, “We are well along with most of the internal repair efforts, but I have no one who can do the external repairs. Can you help with that?”

  “I’ve had training for external hull patching,” replied Kelsey. "I'll do it."

  “No, I’ll do the spacewalk. The Eagle’s AI can guide me through the repairs,” said Gallant wishing to protect her from the difficult assignment.

  Kelsey got close to Gallant’s face, and said with authority, “When we're aboard the Eagle, you’re the command pilot and you give the orders. When we’re not, I’m senior. Don’t forget! I will do the external repairs. You return to the Eagle and use the lasers to keep meteorites from poking holes in me. Is that clear?”

  There was a long moment of brittle tension before Gallant, feeling properly chastised, said, “Perfectly.”

  Kelsey collected the appropriate protective gear and made her way to the air hatch, instructing Dawson to monitor her from the bridge of the freighter. She coordinated the repairs with Dawson’s crew and carried the patching material out of the airlock while Gallant returned to the Eagle.

  “Let’s get on with the job,” said Kelsey, as she exited the freighter and spacewalked to the damaged area.

  No sooner had Kelsey begun to work on the freighter, than Gallant felt a vague discomfort. He monitored her as she methodically began the repairs. She coordinated her efforts with the readings that Dawson provided from the reactor’s control panel. She was engrossed in placing the final seals over the reactor compartment’s exterior leak. Twice she had Dawson run pressure tests, and once she had him increase the temperature, all in an effort to evaluate the strength of the patches.

  “Captain Dawson, the materials we have available are not up to our needs. I’m afraid these makeshift patches may not last, but there isn’t a great deal we can do,” said Kelsey as she clung to the side of the freighter.

  "I understand. We'll make do," said Dawson.

  While Kelsey was finishing the external repairs, Gallant occasionally had to fire his laser at meteorites that approached the drifting Stella Bordeaux. They were on the outer edge of the asteroid belt, and Gallant was concerned because the repairs were still ongoing, many hours after they had separated from the convoy. Everyone was exhausted.

  Looking around, Gallant appreciated the spectacular view of the universe he was being afforded, but he would not let himself be distracted from the important task. He was more thankful for the sight of Kelsey returning to the Eagle than he was for the view of the stars surrounding them.

  After several hours, they were able to restart the reactor at low power. Soon they were lim
ping along on one engine. All the time, the leak continued to steal small quantities of air from the damaged areas of the ship.

  With the reactor power restored and the starboard engine on-line, the merchantman was moving sluggishly through the asteroid field, when Kelsey reported, “I’m getting a faint radar signature of a ship at the edge of the asteroid field and it's heading in this general direction.”

  Gallant looked at the display. It showed a small alien saucer that could outgun both the freighter and his fighter. He looked at Kelsey. She was waiting for his orders. Only then did Gallant feel the full weight of his responsibilities.

  Gallant opened a communication channel to the Stella Bordeaux and said, “I don't think that saucer is currently tracking us. It may have caught a glimpse a little while ago, and then, lost us when we moved behind this small planetoid. Dawson, what do you think would happen if we dumped your cargo of volatile fuel and then fired a missile into it?”

  For a moment Dawson didn’t respond, as he let the idea sink in. Then, a broad smile spread across his face. “We’d give them one heck of a headache!”

  "Right. Captain Dawson, plot the saucer’s best course toward us and begin discharging the cargo in that location. Then go back to the communication room and, when I tell you, start broadcasting on the radio."

  “You want me to transmit openly? The saucer will pick that up and—oh…OK,” Dawson responded.

  Gallant watched the saucer on the display screen and waited, until it reached a position that would require it to travel directly through the just-released cargo, to approach the Stella Bordeaux’s current location. "Now, Captain, come to all stop and start transmitting."

  “We’re broadcasting.”

  Slowly, the saucer responded to the transmission and changed course directly for the Stella Bordeaux. Gallant watched the approaching saucer and calculated its transit toward the fuel debris, all the while keeping his Eagle behind the planetoid. As he watched, however, he was concerned that the fuel was dispebursing. How long should he wait to fire? Would the amount of dispersed fuel be enough? Would the saucer detect the fuel and avoid it?