“No,” Rose said. She shook her head firmly, then stood upright. If her face hadn't been stained with tears, it would have been convincing. “I can't show weakness.”
“Then I don’t want to see any problems from you,” Kurt said, changing his mind. If she felt it would be better to throw herself into her work, he would let her do it and hope to hell it was the right thing to do. “And we will be starting very early this morning.”
He pushed her gently towards the chair, then smiled. “There's a washroom through there,” he said, indicating the hatch at the rear of the room. “Wash yourself, then stay here for a couple of hours if you need to. I won’t be using the room.”
“Thank you,” Rose said.
She didn't look any better, Kurt decided. Perhaps he should call the doctor and ask her to take a look at Rose. But he knew she’d hate it. Doctors, particularly psychologists, were despised by pilots. And how could the pilots be blamed when psychologists tended to have no understanding of their lives, but banned them from flying whenever they thought there was cause for concern. But now there was cause for concern.
Loyalty warred with prudence. Loyalty won.
“I shall speak to you again before we go flying,” he said, finally. If she still seemed off, he would make her see the doctor, no matter what happened. “Until then, take care of yourself.”
Shaking his head, he walked out of the compartment and down towards the flight deck. There was a spare simulator there, one he could use to review the records from New Russia. He didn't know if he would find anything, just by replaying them time and time again, but there was no harm in looking. Besides, Rose wasn’t the only one who wanted revenge. Kurt wanted to make the aliens pay too.
Chapter Eight
A civilian, Ted knew, would not have been impressed with Ark Royal’s bridge. The modern Royal Navy had wasted time making bridges look photogenic – naval crewmen joked that the consoles had explosive charges underneath so they could be detonated on cue – but that hadn't been a concern for Ark Royal’s designers. The bridge was nothing more than a collection of consoles, organised around a large command chair and a holographic display system. There wasn't even a chair for the XO, who would be based in the CIC. If something happened to the bridge, the CIC could take over.
He sat down and looked from console to console. They were a curious mishmash of systems; thankfully, all of them were British rather than produced outside the British Commonwealth. The engineers had worked them all together, but they had never really been tested in combat; now, Ted knew, they would find out just how well their jury-rigged modifications had actually worked. He sucked in his breath as he activated his console and checked the situation reports flowing up from the various departmental heads. Everyone claimed to be ready for departure.
“Begin power-up sequence,” he ordered.
A low hum ran through the ship as all six fusion cores powered up together. All of them had been tested, one by one, but there had been no need to power them all up while they’d drifted in the reserves. Now ... he watched the readings, silently praying that everything would work properly without problems. In theory, they could operate with four fusion cores, but he didn't want to try it in practice. If nothing else, there would be no redundancy if one of the cores failed during battle.
Or was destroyed, he thought, remembering how effectively the alien weapons had sliced the modern carriers apart. What if we’re wrong about how effective our armour will be?
The thought made him scowl. Someone had released the recordings of the battle onto the planetary datanet, provoking panic. There had been riots in a dozen British cities, riots which had sucked away the attention of the military, making it harder for them to prepare for a possible invasion. If Ark Royal couldn't delay the aliens long enough to prepare additional defences, Earth itself might be invaded sooner rather than later. And who knew how the aliens would treat humanity’s homeworld?
He pushed the thought aside as Anderson called him. “All six fusion cores are optimal, Captain,” the Chief Engineer said. “Power curves are steady; I recommend we proceed with full power-up.”
Ted took another breath. “Do it,” he ordered. “Now.”
Ark Royal hadn't needed more than a tenth of the output of one fusion core to keep her essential systems running while she’d been in the reserves. The power requirements were minimal; Ted knew he could have reduced them still further, if he hadn't wanted to keep the starship in something resembling fighting trim. Now ... inch by inch, his starship was coming to life around him. Section after section responded to the call and came online; sensors activated, sweeping space for hostile threats, while weapons systems prepared themselves to fire on potential targets.
“We have four sections that need urgent replacement,” Anderson said. Red lights blinked up briefly in the status display, then faded away. “I don’t think our work was up to scratch. I’ve dispatched repair crews now.”
“Good,” Ted said. He wasn't too surprised. Given Ark Royal’s age and the number of different components that had been worked into her hull, he’d expected more than a few minor problems when they powered up for the first time. “Are we ready for deployment?”
“Main drive system; online, ready to go,” Anderson said. “Puller Drive; online, ready to go.”
There was a long pause as Ted closed his eyes, feeling his ship coming to life around him. In the reserves, she had felt as if she were sleeping. Now ... power was thrumming through her hull, her drives, weapons and sensors were online and her starfighters were ready to deploy. The oldest starship still in service, anywhere, was ready and raring to go.
He smiled. “Contact Nelson Base,” he ordered. “Inform them that Ark Royal is ready for deployment.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Annie Davidson said. The communications officer had not been best pleased to be assigned to Ark Royal, once she’d been called from the reserves, but she’d started to change her mind after hearing about the loss of two modern carriers. At least Ark Royal was capable of taking a beating and remaining functional. “Message sent.”
Ted nodded. Hardly anyone, apart from the First Space Lord and his staff, knew about Ark Royal’s mission. To everyone else, she was just another ancient starship, pressed into service to fight a dangerously powerful foe. Just like one of the civilian ships hastily being fitted with popguns, according to one reporter who’d been embedded on Nelson Base. Ted had been offended for his command, but the truth had to remain concealed. The reporter could be made to eat his own words later.
“They’re ordering us to proceed to our destination at once,” Annie said, after several minutes had gone by. “There's a classified data package for you, sir.”
“Forward it to my console,” Ted ordered. He looked over at Lightbridge. The helmsman was looking keenly determined, staring down at his console as if he expected to have to react within a split second. “Have you calculated an appropriate jump point?”
“Aye, sir,” Lightbridge said. “We can reach our destination in two jumps.”
“Then take us to the jump point, best possible speed,” Ted ordered. “But do not activate the Puller Drive without my specific authorisation.”
He settled back in his command chair and watched the updates from engineering as the crew scurried around, fixing the problems that had become apparent. If there was a real problem, he knew, they would have to hold position in the Sol System so that it could be fixed ... but, thankfully, it didn't look as though there was any need to wait. The engineering crew had the tools and spare parts to replace the useless or burned out components. Anderson and his staff had spent the last two weeks scrounging up everything they could and stuffing every last compartment in the ship with spare parts. Ark Royal could, in theory, operate for several years without needing outside supplies.
“The computer cores are holding together, thankfully,” Anderson said. “I was worried they would object when we actually started to move.”
“I know,” T
ed said. “Keep monitoring their progress.”
He scowled, knowing how tricky that was likely to be. The different generations of computer systems had never been designed to work together, let alone the ones that came from outside the Commonwealth. In hindsight, he suspected, the human race might have good reason to regret not establishing a few common standards for technology. Right now, a British carrier couldn't be repaired with spare parts from a Chinese carrier. If the human race managed to remain united – and without unity, they were surely going to lose the war – that was going to have to be fixed.
Assuming we trusted them not to play games, he thought. The Admiralty hadn't objected to Ark Royal’s crew using begged or scrounged Chinese components, but he'd always assumed that his superiors hadn't bothered to read his reports. His crew had always checked the systems carefully, yet it was quite possible that they’d missed something dangerous, something the Chinese could use to manipulate the carrier to their advantage. Would they try anything like that when the human race needed to remain united?
The starship quivered again as the main drives came to life, pushing her forward towards the jump point. Ark Royal handled badly, compared to a frigate or a starfighters, but there was a reassuring firmness around her actions that more modern carriers lacked. Or was that just his imagination, after seeing so many powerful ships torn apart with terrifying speed? No wonder the civilians were panicking – along with quite a few politicians. The Battle of New Russia had lasted barely ten minutes, most of which had been spent getting into position.
“Power curves remain nominal,” Anderson said. “The main drive system is functional, sir.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ted said, dryly. If the drive had failed, they'd know about it already. “Repeat the standard tests on the Puller Drive, if you please.”
“Yes, sir,” Anderson said.
Ted tapped his console, accessing the data package as Ark Royal continued to move towards the jump point. Every analyst in space had been working over the recordings from New Russia, drawing what conclusions they could. Much of the data wasn't new, not entirely to Ted’s surprise, but there were some interesting suggestions. One of them suggested that the alien ships could be tracked with a little careful effort. Another insisted that the alien starfighters weren't really effective dogfighters at all.
Not that it matters, Ted thought. They’re designed to break through to our carriers and rip them apart.
There was relatively little data on the alien capital ships, he noted, mostly consisting of uninformed speculation. No one was even sure where the carriers launched their fighters; unlike human craft, the fighter launch tubes appeared to be worked solidly into their hulls. It was an interesting design, he had to admit, suggesting that they weren't too worried about having their carriers targeted. Did they have a good reason to be confident?
They have energy weapons on their starfighters, he thought, sourly. Their hulls might be bristling with energy weapons too.
“Sir,” Lightbridge said, breaking into his thoughts, “we have reached the jump point.”
“Power up the Puller Drive,” Ted ordered. He couldn't help feeling the old thrill of jumping out of the Sol System, even though it had been years since he’d been on an interstellar starship. “And then sound the alert.”
Another quiver ran through the ship, followed by a low hooting that warned all non-essential crew to brace themselves for the jump. Most spacers grew used to it fairly quickly, but there were always a handful who couldn't take the jump without throwing up or even being rendered comatose. Over a hundred years of FTL travel hadn't yielded any way to identify such people before they took their first jump, although it manifested very quickly. Back at the Academy, British spacers were taken through a jump within the first six months of their training. If they reacted badly, they were assigned to in-system positions only.
Like Ark Royal, he thought, grimly. His crew included a few people who couldn't take the jump, but were desperately needed to keep the starship functional. It was something the Admiralty had overlooked at the time. Ted and Commander Fitzwilliam had dealt with the problem by ordering all such personnel to sickbay before the jump, but they knew it was only a temporary solution. The crewmen would have to be relieved of duty sooner rather than later.
“Puller drive online,” Lightbridge said.
“All systems check out properly,” Anderson added. “The drive is in full working order.”
And thank god for that, Ted thought. The Puller Drive had never seemed very important, not compared to all the other systems that had to be kept operational for Ark Royal to remain on the books. And it couldn't really be replaced without chopping open the hull, which would take months. He keyed his console, checking the power curves for himself. For something that was surprisingly simple, the Puller Drive was a colossal power hog.
“Good,” Ted said. He looked around the bridge, feeling a hint of pride in his crew. They’d practiced endlessly over the last two weeks, but this was real. “Jump!”
The Puller Drive wasn’t – technically – a drive at all. Over a century ago, Professor Wang had discovered the existence of gravitational tramlines running between stars and planets – and then worked out a system for exploiting them. If the Puller Drive was triggered at the right place along the tramline, the ship would jump instantly from one star system to the next ... providing the tramline was strong enough to allow it. There were stars it was possible to jump to, but not possible to jump back along the same tramline. A black hole, Wang had warned, might be impossible to escape. Its sheer mass would bend the tramlines out of shape. Fortunately, there were none within human space.
For a long moment, the universe seemed to darken ... and then snap back to normal. Ted let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, then glanced down at his console. The Puller Drive was cycling down, all power curves still nominal. Ted allowed himself a tight smile. His ship might be old, but she was still fully functional and ready for action.
“Jump completed, sir,” Lightbridge reported. “No problems detected.”
“Take us to the next tramline,” Ted ordered.
Jumping along a tramline was instantaneous – or close enough to instant to make it impossible to provide a precise estimate of how long it took. Moving from tramline to tramline, on the other hand, could take hours. Ted wasn't blind to the implications of the aliens having a Puller Drive that allowed longer jumps; they might easily outflank humanity’s defenders and then attack Earth, just as the First Space Lord had predicted. They might need to spend a few years mopping up afterwards, but the loss of Earth would cost humanity the war.
“Picking up a signal from Terra Nova,” Annie said. “They’re requesting our IFF. And they sound a little jumpy.”
“I’m not surprised,” Ted said. Ark Royal looked different enough from a modern carrier to be alarmingly unfamiliar to long-range sensors. They might well mistake her for an alien ship. “Shoot them a copy of our IFF, then inform them that we are proceeding to the next tramline.”
He sighed. Terra Nova had been the first planet humanity had settled, with each and every ethnic, racial or religious group being offered an enclave. It hadn't worked out very well; none of the interstellar powers felt inclined to invest in it, while the smaller powers didn't have the resources to turn the planet into a success. Ironically, it turned out that human groups were perfectly capable of getting along provided there was some distance between them. Several light years seemed about perfect.
And Terra Nova is practically defenceless, he thought, grimly. None of the bigger powers would risk political unrest by devoting starships to defending a world many civilians regarded as a barbarous backwater. There were only a handful of starships in the system, none of which were modern and several of which were older than Ark Royal. It wouldn't take the aliens long to overwhelm them and take the system. If, of course, they were inclined to bother.
Just how much did the aliens know about humanity? There was no way to
know what they might have recovered from Vera Cruz – an intact navigational database would have told them the location of each and every settled planet in human space – but there could be no doubt about what they could have recovered from New Russia. It was unlikely in the extreme that the Russians would have managed to destroy all of their files before the aliens landed ... no, they had to assume the worst. The aliens knew where to find their targets.
But what else did they know? If they had time to go through everything on New Russia, they probably knew just how vital Earth was to the unified defence force. And then ...
“Captain,” Lightbridge said, “we are approaching the second tramline.”
Ted pushed his morbid thoughts aside. “Understood,” he said. “Power up the Puller Drive, then jump us to our next destination.”
He forced himself to remain calm as the universe darkened once again, before snapping back to normal. This time, there were no major settlements in the system. The early survey parties had found nothing of interest, beyond a handful of comets, and nothing had turned up since to make the system more interesting. But that didn't stop it being useful. Four different tramlines ran through the system, allowing it to serve as a transfer point for interstellar shipping. The corporation that had laid claim to the system did a roaring trade in supplies, including some that were technically illegal elsewhere. None of the major interstellar powers wanted to intervene, not when it might have provoked a major confrontation.
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