'I see that the commander of Berkut was cycled out with Brigadier Mortlock now at the helm,' Bob said.
'Yeah. Tough, very tough crafty thinker that one. Going to have to get up very early and be hellish smart to put one over that old bugger, Bob. Expect surprises, look at every possible angle, but hey, you are no slug yourself. Just think outlandish, because he will.'
Bob looked up at the now-standing Uncle, who towered over everyone in the crew with the exception of the extremely athletic Paul Black.
'Yeah, so I have gathered. Pleased that you agreed to come on this ship, Graham. Great to know that you are here. Right, I had better push on. See you later, sergeant major.'
'That you will, commander, that you will.'
A few hours later general quarters were sounded as Haast manoeuvred up against the enormous bulk of the Hauler Rose Foxtrot.
Looking from his command pod, with wraparound screens showing him all views of the ship and the imposing side of the Hauler, Major Nick Warne used two small controls to place the ship precisely where the Hauler had instructed them to be, twenty metres off its port side.
'Engineering, shut down, internally purge propulsion and manoeuvring systems as soon as the Hauler has locked on. Navigation, stand by to stand down. Crew, recheck that weapon systems are unloaded and stored correctly. Unit commanders, report when ready. All external hatches and doorways, excepting those under my or the commanders' express control, are now sealed.'
Watching his screens, he saw moments later the unit commanders' reports coming in. When the final one appeared he said, 'Hauler Rose Foxtrot. This is Haast. All internal reports and status are now available to you. Request that you take us onboard, please.'
Nick knew that the 'please' was not necessary, but believed that manners mattered.
Seconds later, the friendly but slightly schoolmarmish female voice of Rose Foxtrot answered: 'Welcome, Major Warne. Your documentation is accepted. My compliments to you and Commander Thompson. Yours is an impressive ship and crew. Docking is underway.'
On his screens he could see the huge arms folding out of the side of the Hauler that pushed up against the locks in the Haast's hull. There was a just-audible thudding down the length of the ship with a shudder as Haast was pulled towards the Hauler; huge doors folded up and out of the hull as the airship was placed inside. Five minutes later the doors closed, sealing them inside Rose 19.
Nick Warne tapped the 'all ship' icon on his comms screen. 'All stations. We are secure inside Rose Foxtrot. Watch rosters are now promulgated. One gravity will be maintained by the Hauler throughout the three-day journey to the moon around the closest local gas giant. Those not required at your posts may stand down. Training recommences at 0800 ship time tomorrow. Bridge out.'
Looking out of his pod, he saw the remainder of the night shift taking over from the late shif t, knowing they would be in for a quiet night.
Mark de Ruyter stuck his head around the side of the pod. 'The cooks have left out the usual spread for your squad. I'm just heading down to the garden decks. Shall I send back some fruit? Latest tangelos are ripe.'
'No thanks, Mark. Tai Chi usual time?'
Mark nodded. 'Yeah. As long as Bob does not get himself into trouble, should be there at 0715. You did well getting that Magret and Johan onboard. They are wanted on just about every ship I know for their Tai Chi instructor ratings alone.'
'Yeah. Not bad crew in a Maul either.'
Mark smiled as he lef t, knowing that Nick would have made one of his famous deals to get the two onboard and knew not to ask, as Nick would never tell.
Nick watched his old friend and colleague walk off the bridge, passing the immaculately attired commander on his way in. Bob saw Nick and stopped in the hallway, beckoning him over. Nick stepped out of the pod and walked across to his commander ... he had previously asked to see him before Bob left for the dinner.
Bob answered the unasked question. 'No need for you to call the bridge to attention. Just wanted to say, don't wait up, but hey, you will anyway cause you are on night shift, eh! You needed to see me?'
Nick smiled, wondering if Bob would eventually get used to the necessary ceremonies and protocols of the service, but also knew that in the long run it would not matter as Bob was good at what he did.
'Nice suit, Bob. Good idea not going over in your dress uniform. You always look more uncomfortable in that than most I have seen. Say hello to the brigadier for me and also Major Suzuki. Good people. Now, yes, I need a little favour. Can you please ask Rose if she could let me into her gardens? She has an extraordinary collection of orchids and I want to purchase some cuttings from her.'
Bob nodded. 'Of course. Any particular time?' 'Bit after 0900 would be good.'
'No problems. I will ask. Right. See you when I do.'
Bob turned and walked down two decks to be met by the beautifully attired Michelle who was carrying a cedar wood box with the wines and cheeses. He picked up another cedar and silver box at his feet, which he presumed contained the canapes. He gestured to the airlock with its airbridge from Haast to the scale-plated armoured side of the docking bay leading into Rose.
They cycled through, walked across the transparent tube then through the massively over-engineered airlock . on the other side. As Bob watched the outer doors closing, he knew that Haast could explode inside with all its ammunition and fuel systems detonating at the same time, and the only damage Rose would suffer would be the outer bay doors being wrecked. They stepped through the inner door into an elegant wood panelled, wide high-vaulted corridor where the tall, slim figure of Daisuke Suzuki awaited them. They all formally bowed then shook hands as Daisuke took them a few paces then opened a sliding panel to reveal an Art Nouveau-inspired bronze and dark leather car. They stepped in and sat opposite Daisuke and, as the doors closed, the car started moving at what Bob believed to be a relatively high speed up to the bow
section of the Hauler.
As the two crew of Haast looked about them, Daisuke said, 'My partner Wardah is uplif ting Brigadier Mortlock and his companion on the other side of the ship. I have had dealings with him before and it is a good exercise to be at least one minute ahead of him for your meeting, so I do apologise for my speed. And I do apologise if you already knew that, commander. We are also surprised that he was instructed to take this particular battle with you and Haast for the Games Board. 'It is interesting in that the Games Board were also greatly taken aback, and have had to send one of their specialist teams to cover him, knowing of his huge popularity throughout the Sphere.'
Bob and Michelle looked out the elegant windows of the car as it passed through various huge engineering spaces, long empty decks and cargo spaces packed with neatly secured multiple coloured containers. The last one they passed through housed dozens of what Bob recognised as salvage and repair craft as the car slowed, was lifted smoothly and placed onto another gently curving track.
The car slowed to a stop as Bob and Michelle smiled at the magnificent glazed Art Nouveau iron arches they could see, which made up the whole front of the Hauler.
Two tall humanoid machines, also showing heavy Art Nouveau design influences, took the boxes from Bob and Michelle as Daisuke led them to a sumptuously appointed bar with one of the most beautif ul women the members of Haast had ever seen awaiting them.
Daisuke gave her a nod and did the introductions. 'Rose, may I present Lieutenant Colonel Jeremy Thompson and the Adjutant Countess Michelle Yngling.'
Bob looked up into the emerald-green eyes of Rose and felt distinctly nervous shaking her hand. Michelle just smiled demurely and did not flinch, with Bob thinking that it had been a good suggestion on the Baron's part that Bob take her as his PA considering her family connections, great intelligence and ease of dealing with people in any circumstances.
They made small talk for a few moments before Daisuke's partner, the almost equally stunning-looking Wardah, walked in along with the brigadier and his companion, a severely dressed but haunt
ingly beautiful Petah Ortiz.
Bob looked down at the brigadier and was a little surprised that he was not a lot bigger and taller. He also moved as if he was constantly watching and planning alternatives and the quickest most energy-efficient way to attack or escape.
Rose got them drink from behind the bar. As they were taking a draught of a heavy black stout, Roger Mortlock surprised Bob with a question.
'You strike me as a well-travelled, intelligent and interesting fellow, Bob. So I shall ask you this question: who makes the best sausages around here? You can go a very long way and sometimes even between worlds to find a half-decent sausage maker.'
Bob did not know if it was a genuine question, some interesting trick question, or just a plain and simple one, but replied with little hesitation. 'On Haast. Believe it or not, Sergeant Major Mike Antipas, one of our engineers, makes the finest sausages I know of.'
The brigadier looked at Bob and gave a quick short bark of a laugh, then clinked his glass against Bob's. 'Good! Very good! You and I are going to get along just fine. Shall we join the rest of the group?'
Sergeant Major Mike Antipas cocked his head to the side, looking at the huge bird sitting across the table from him.
The ACE Haast looked back at the shortish, solidly built man and pointed at the plans of a machine displayed in the tabletop with a long elegant featherlike finger. 'No, Mike. This is a good design, but really a bit over-engineered, don't you think?'
They were in one of the smaller rooms on the crew recreation deck, relaxing, with Mike enjoying a tall tumbler of whiskey and the ACE a pineapple juice. Outside the room, in one of the larger areas, off-duty members of the crew were enjoying a pool competition that Haast was not equipped for, being too short in stature to handle a cue stick and that Mike had been earlier eliminated from.
'Yeah, but Haast mate, the boss was very insistent that no risks were to be taken with you. Every part of the flier had to have redundancies, even a spare antigravity unit, plus survival gear that is capable of making the sugars that you need from just about any vegetable or meat source that you could find. Sorry, but that all takes up physical space and power.'
'It's still too big, Mike.'
The hulking form of Uncle passed the doorway and Mike yelled out to him. 'Hey, Unc! Grab a beer and come join us. We are arguing about Haast's flier!'
Uncle stopped and looked in, then said, 'Hold on.'
A few moments he was back with a huge pewter tankard, topped with a tall cream-coloured head. He stood next to Mike and looked down at the plans. 'Can't see a problem with it. Hold on. I saw Robb in the bar.'
He walked out and a few moments later returned with another of the engineers, Staff Sergeant Robb Merrill, who was carrying two tankards of beer.
Robb spoke in his soft drawl. 'Wondered where you guys had disappeared to. Haast, have a taste of this. This, my friend is wheat beer. Dark and tasty. Hold on.'
He took a little shot glass from his tunic pocket and poured a little of the beer off for Haast. The eagle sniffed it, then dipped another of his long fingers into it and drained the glass. He sat briefly, then nodded up at Robb.
'Yes, that one I like. Much better than the last one you gave me, the pilsner. Not really interested in that one but this I like. A wheat beer. My thanks.'
'Pleasure. You drinking fresh pineapple juice! Damn! Latest crop must be ready. Back in two, people.'
'Robb must have made the drill sergeant a very happy human,' Mike remarked with a smile, 'when he did his basic training. He does military-style short quick steps naturally.'
Robb returned with a tray and two fresh pineapples. He pulled a long, slim knife off his belt and expertly dealt with the fruit. 'So, what's the problem with the flier, Haast? We made it to Mr de Ruyter's design.'
'It's too bulky, Robb. I feel like I am too enclosed. I need more freedom of movement. The ability to soar. I am a bird, you know.'
As they all grinned, Mike commented, 'Really! Had not noticed.'
Robb looked seriously at the plan for a few moments as the conversation of the others washed around him, then spoke. 'Why fly it all the time, Haast? We could rebuild it so that it slaved to you and would fly in close support when you are in atmosphere sufficient to give you lif t. When you have to get somewhere in a hurry, just lock yourself back into it and go. It's a sensible option, then we could set some weapon systems on it as well. Make it bigger in fact. Not smaller. Proper little support platform.'
The others agreed immediately. They welcomed Aaron Huriwaka into the room and started reworking the design, pushing over other tables so that the various sub-systems could be designed as the drink, jokes and food were consumed.
Haast looked around the tables and felt content, feeling that he was a real member of the crew. These augmented people of human stock simply did not care that he was an ACE ... he was one of them.
A bleary-eyed Bob Thompson looked down at Nick Warne who, with raised eyebrows, was looking back up at him.
'The light is too bright, Nick.'
Nick gave him a small smile. 'Did you ask about the orchids?'
'Nope. Did not have to. Rose asked after you. Said that you are welcome, any time. Why is it that the Haulers have such amazing-looking people and that Rose proxy ... Bloody hell! Extraordinary..And when Mark comes in, tell him that he and you were right. The brigadier has an amazing mind, talked and talked. Learned more in seven hours with him about tactics and strategies than in the months at the academies. Good guy, I like him. He will kick my arse but I like him. I need sleep. You don't need me. See you at lunch.'
He turned, walked a few steps, then turned back saying, 'Oh, yeah. Speak with Sergeant Major Antipas. Ask him to send a few kilos of his sausages over to Berkut, please. Mr Mortlock will be very grateful. Thanks, Nick.'
Uncle, who always awoke five minutes before his wake-up alarm sounded, rolled his torso towards the edge of the bed and cleared his throat. 'Haast. Blankets and social arms, please.'
The ship responded with the living bedcovers rolling themselves off his naked form while vinelike manipulators presented his almost-human arms down to him, so as he rolled first his right then his left shoulders the arms locked themselves on. He brought up the displays in his head, checking the interfaces, power settings and then sugar levels in the arms themselves, which the room had been maintaining for him. Satisfied by what he saw he activated them and pushed himself upright, lowered himself off the bed onto his leg stumps, and shuffled himself into the room's ablutions and shower unit.
Looking at his face in the mirror, he saw that another depilatory treatment was needed, so shaved the short stubble using a cut-throat razor, then sprayed a long-term oil over his face and rubbed it into his skin where he did not want the hair to grow for at least a month.
Wondering if he should grow a short beard again, but deciding against it, he sprayed a second light fluid over his skin to activate the treatment, then pushed his way into the shower.
As soon as he stood in the centre of the unit, pure water at the temperature he had always liked cascaded down over him for a few seconds before turning to soapy water. He reached up and tore a piece of cloth-like material off the wall, scrubbing himself with its coarse side, and when he finished, dropped it onto the floor of the shower, knowing that within forty or so minutes it would have been absorbed back into the bioengineering closed circuit cubicle. Deciding that he was clean enough, he tapped the wall and pure water rinsed him off. He pushed through the gel door and towelled himself off with the free-hanging self-cleaning towel.
He looked at himself in the mirror again: the biomechanical shoulders with their mounting points for heavy weapon arms; the interfaces for direct access to machine systems that were linked internally to his ivory chain-linked ribcage and spine; the access shunts in either side of his neck and the other metallised contacts above his ears; the shunts in his chest and stomach and the augmented hips and leg joints which terminated in totally artificial sockets. He wondere
d what he had become over the years and if he was still human. He looked at his eyes, seeing the slight metallic sheen of their armour, then down at his genitals and smiled. He decided, as he had every day since opting five years before to become mainly cyborg, that as long as they were still 100 per cent standard human, then he must be as well.
He stumped over to a container, reached up and grasped the overhead bar and effortlessly lifted himself up, simultaneously thinking of the legs he wanted which seconds later were presented to him by the container. They locked onto the stumps as his systems checked and activated them, then the room dropped the one-piece base coverall over his shoulders that slid over him forming his ship suit.
He gave a wry grin, wondering what the day would bring.
Harold
Human Settlement on Storfisk
The meeting place for the senior local ACEs was deep under one of the home trees a few hours after midnight local time.
The Tengu both looked at Harold with serious expressions on their faces. 'We are sorry, Harold, that we had to injure you so badly. It was necessary that the standard humans and, in. particular, the Games Board believed in everything that they were seeing. We had planned everything so carefully, but also admit that the beetles choosing that time to take flight was a most welcome bonus. We did not factor it in, but it worked to our advantage anyway.'
Harold sat very still in front of the much larger, more powerful ACEs and thought to himself that he had not done too badly for his first combat.
'So, Tengu, you are saying that to make it look good, you would have killed me if I had given you the opportunity?'
They both blinked and nodded at precisely the same instant. 'Of course. Your family would have built a new, and probably improved, version of you anyway, and as the link from your Soul Saver to the village AI computers was a continuous one, you would still be the real you and not a clone. But enough of this. We just want to know if you can work with us or not?'
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