“Heavier gravity in space, that’s just damn weird.” Says another man. He suddenly stops and looks around. “Geez this thing is huge. What the hell do they need all this room for?”
“I see we have forgotten decorum already.” The last of the three men steps forward, his face a stern mask. “Captain John Thompson, I am Captain William Edwards. I do not find this casual approach of yours satisfactory, and will report your lack of protocol.”
John looks back at the man and tries not to laugh. “You will report me! How do you intend to do that Bill? You’re on MY ship now.” John is quite perplexed at the man’s brashness.
Bill’s face turns bright red with rage. “My name is William Edwards, and I do not defer to you. I will speak with your commanding officer, NOW!” His voice gets louder as he makes his demands well known.
John bites back a smile. Oh you are in for one hell of a shock, coming here with that attitude. “Well then, follow me,” he says, instead of what he is actually thinking.
Radclyf is also perplexed, none of the three had exhibited anything like this on the way up, in fact they had all been quite cordial.
The last of the shuttle captains observes the exchange from a distance. Aaron glances at his own flight crew, and then shakes his head while pointing his thumb at the commotion. “Why did they bring THAT hot head up here?”
No one around him replies, but a few nod their heads in agreement. Aaron is well respected for keeping his cool when under pressure. He is usually so quiet and reserved that his comment surprises those around him. His copilot is shocked to see Aaron’s jaw twitch while his green eyes blaze away at their new arrival. This behavior is completely out of character.
Meanwhile, George quickly makes his way to the life support area. He waves at Paul, one of Radclyf’s heavily armed men, and then proceeds to enter the guarded room. It takes him a couple of minutes to insert the new air sample. Like many others, he cannot believe that it is this simple. A few moments later, fans kick in with a whir. Shortly thereafter, George is rewarded with the scent of fresh air. People literally breathe a sigh of relief, as the foul alien air is replaced by a duplication of the fresh sample from the Tasmanian coastline.
George then replaces the samples in the other Gamin shuttle, and the Gamin ground vehicle, as requested. Next, he replaces the samples in his, and Olaf’s, bodysuits, then leaves his suit to charge up. Finding, and then persuading Radclyf to ferry him to his family is another easy task. They take the extra two bodysuits with them, a bonus for the ground crews.
John arrives at the bridge with Edwards and his two crewmen in tow. “Admiral Klein, I present to you Captain Edwards.”
Cindy’s eyebrows raise at John’s unusually formal tone. She sits back more comfortably in her chair and says, “Edwards, welcome aboard.”
“That’s Captain Edwards.” He replies with disdain.
“Oh is it now?” Cindy replies with feigned surprise. “You do know that this is not a military operation, don’t you?” She adds bluntly.
Edwards responds almost immediately. “I was that man’s instructor.” He points angrily at John, his finger, an accusing dagger. “He is border-line incompetent, fails to follow procedure, and if it were not for that foolish stunt involving the ISS, he would not be here now. I would be.” He almost snarls at John, his distaste for the man is clearly evident.
“Oh.” Cindy says as she smiles. “Well then, ‘Captain’ Edwards, please take a seat, and while you’re at it, why don’t you land us on the moon.”
Edwards walks to an empty chair, and then seeing the alien symbols on the console, turns and glares at Cindy. “What is this?” He demands.
“A lesson Captain, a lesson." Cindy replies with more than a little scorn.
Still unperturbed, Edwards goes on. “Where are the interface units that I read about? Where is the decipher code?”
Joe looks over at Cindy, then receiving a supportive nod, quickly jumps in. “They tend to overheat.” He picks up one of his burnt-out laptops. “Besides they’re too slow. John pilots the ship directly, using that.” He points to the alien console.
Cindy crosses her legs, and then stares at Edwards with venom. “This is a restricted area, and you sir are neither qualified, nor wanted. Now get off MY bridge.”
“Oh! Your bridge.” Sarcasm is thick in Edwards’ voice. Looking down his nose at John he continues, “He led me to believe that this was HIS ship.”
Cindy leans forward in her chair, and smiles. “I am in charge of the mission, but the ship, well, as far as you’re concerned, it is John’s.” She gives John a supportive nod, along with a warm smile.
Edwards gulps, he is used to his forceful methods getting him what he wants. He stands up as he mentally back peddles, for once in his life, he considers that perhaps he was wrong.
Cindy adds one more jab at the man’s battered ego. “If you ever want to pilot any Gamin craft, I suggest you zip your attitude. John will be your instructor, and that is only if, and when, he deems you fit for the task. You’re dismissed.”
Abashed, Edwards leaves the bridge, all the while rallying his thoughts.
Once Edwards is gone, Cindy leans toward John and states. “You say the word and he’s gone, there are plenty of others that want to be here.”
John considers the offer for a moment, and then says. “Nah. Actually, he is the best, he just wouldn’t volunteer for what was supposed to be a suicide mission.” John shrugs his shoulders.
Cindy frowns at this. “So, you’re telling me he is a space shuttle pilot who plays it safe?”
“Yeah, weird hey?” John replies with a little too much honesty.
This news bothers her, if they had played it safe, they would all probably be dead by now. She leans back and considers her options.
Later that night, when Joe retires to his quarters, he is surprise to find a note with instructions on it. Finding Andrew, they head to the hangar area, then to the Gamin ground vehicle. Once inside, Joe follows the notes instructions carefully. The subtle, yet distinct smell of eucalyptus leaves quickly fills the compartment. Joe and Andrew grin from ear to ear.
The next few days see the flurry of activities diminish. All that is left to do is drop off the second shuttle and collect George. Captain Edwards seems to avoid John, and fills his days by practicing launch and recovery procedures with each of the three American Space Shuttles. John smiles when he hears of the flights. Edwards is brave, he just does not know it. The skins on the shuttles are quite thin, and no one knew if the shuttles would be able to move through the Terran’s navigational shields safely, or if they would break up. When Edwards makes a fuss about fuel reserves, even the other two shuttle captains get annoyed with his negativity. The Terran stores enough fuel, and spare parts, that all three shuttles could operate non-stop for much longer than the expected life span of the engines themselves. The support crews can only shake their heads at the man’s lack of ‘people skills’.
George has had a great time with his family, and though he is excited about the upcoming mission, he is also at odds about leaving them. Lisa is so happy her man is alive, that thoughts of his departing for a short mission pale in comparison to her earlier fears. He spends as much time with them as he can, even though his days are filled testing candidate after candidate in the two alien bodysuits. Dozens and dozens of people try and fail, many being violently sick as they fall from the suits. Each failure shows George to be even more special in the eyes of those observing. Eventually, two people are found who can tolerate, and even operate, the suits to a minor degree. George shows the pair how to make a variety of basic items used in the ship’s construction, and then once satisfied, heads back to his family.
George then surprises Johnny with an amazing gift. His command jacket, though it is much too big, it is worn with great pride by his son.
Johnny looks at the rank insignia in awe. “You’re a Commander, WOW! But if I have this, how will everyone know you’re a commander?” He says in
nocently.
While ruffling his son’s hair, George smiles back and replies, “It’s okay son, everyone knows.”
George has trouble sleeping on this last night and chats with Lisa about his responsibilities to the ship and crew. They both know that he has to go, the almost disastrous launch showed them that. She is still surprised at how easily he has been swayed into going, as opposed to just a few short days ago.
Location:
Washington DC
USA
The President looks at the letter in astonishment, a wax seal. Has my Russian counterpart gone crazy? He dismisses the hesitant courier, breaks the seal, and then opens the letter. He skims through it quickly. ‘Improve Australian facilities, Russian support.’ Okay, no surprises here, so why the courier? As he ponders this, he turns the letter over in his hands. The ever-present secret service agents stand quietly nearby. He peels off the wax, expecting some clandestine message, but finds none. He tries to recall when they last met in Australia, and frowns. The Russian President was not wearing a ring such as this, this is something new. Is it special, or symbolic in some way? He shakes his head as his thoughts drift.
Looking at the agents he wonders what they would do. Something clicks in his mind as it registers. NEW! He looks at the letter again and smiles. There, the end of the letter, the full stop, it is slightly larger than the others. He considers what could be so important, that such measures were needed.
Tossing the letter down as though it were of no further interest, he turns to the agents and politely states. “I would like to be alone for a while please.”
Once he is truly alone, he opens his desk drawer and grabs a microdot reader, one which the CIA only recently invented. He gulps. This is… no was, a state secret. How can it be that the Russians not only know of this device, but they can send me something for it to decipher? He runs the reader over the letter and sure enough, the last full stop has a message embedded into it.
By the time he finishes reading he is as pale as a ghost. He finally understands why the letter was hand delivered, indeed, it was the only way. But how do we proceed? He gulps, carefully and with caution. Pressing a small button on the reader, he neutralizes the microdot on the letter, forever erasing the contents of the message.
He chews over the information, and then chastises himself. It will take the consortium months to get additional facilities in place, while the Chinese have already been hard at work. Their only saving grace is the Gamin construction facility, with its heavy rail and road systems having been constructed for the launch. So it’s a good old fashioned space-race they want. Knowing what the Chinese have, though disquieting, brings him solace. Now we know why they’re interested in Korea, it’s simply a diversion, or is there more?
At the next cabinet meeting the President plans to push for more resources, and more co-operation with other nations. Having two bodysuits, plus an alien shuttle that can fly to the moon and back, is a massive strategic advantage. With this in mind, he makes a few more phone calls.
Chapter Two - Spin Around the Block
Location:
Starship Terran
Earth Orbit
Cindy smiles as George steps confidently onto the bridge. He is clad in his original bodysuit, the small dent in its helmet testimony to its robustness. She sees something on the suit’s chest plate. As he strides closer, she discerns the same emblem they have on their arms, etched into it. She can almost feel the positive aura that comes from him. She imagines powerful drum beats accompanying his every step.
Cindy looks over at Joe, and smiles while she slowly shakes her head from side to side. At his feet are three laptops, and she knows he has a lot more in storage too. Well, she did tell him to get anything he needed. Andrew, on the other hand, only has one laptop, as he plans to work directly with the Gamin console before him. The number of hand written notes plastered all over the alien console show the extent of his efforts. John has had the now obsolete rocket control terminal removed, and in its place, now reside a pair of his own computers, affixed to a custom-made table. Peter occupies the last of the centrally located stations. He casts his gaze around the room, casually observing. Radclyf and Hayato are also on the bridge for this momentous occasion. They are fully armed and take up positions from which they can both see everyone, and cover the doorway.
Cables snake their way to and from the bridge, many connecting GUS to the additional laptops, along with the alien consoles.
Taking a deep breath, Cindy shifts her gaze forward. “John, prepare to take us out of orbit.” Without even looking down, she touches the internal communications symbol on her chair’s control panel. “Attention all hands, secure stations for departure.”
The original crew was supposed to be one hundred twenty-six, but with additional volunteers, their numbers are now one hundred forty-seven. Putting Radclyf’s report of possible stowaways out of mind, she focuses on the task at hand. George steps to his favored wall console and, in short order, interfaces with the Gamin systems.
With everyone in place, Cindy finds her excitement building. She gazes forward and orders, “Captain Thompson, thrusters only, break orbit, set course for Mars.”
This time it is Joe’s turn to monitor the twenty nuclear reactors, while Andrew brings up a map of solar system on his panel. Tapping the planet signifying Mars, Andrew is pleased to see telemetry information, and nods to John.
“Thrusters only, aye.” John confirms as he activates a number of them. He really enjoys the way the controls work. Banking the Terran, he gives them all a fantastic view of Earth. He rolls the ship and turns her away, building speed as he goes. Without any reference point, other than the retreating planet behind them, he has no idea how fast they are actually going.
“Thrusters at maximum.” Intones John as he keeps the star filled view as steady as he can.
Cindy gazes out through the forward view screen, deep in thought. “Prepare to engage sub-light engines.”
John reviews his notes one more time, even though George had quite clearly pointed out the symbol that would engaged them. “Ready at your command, Ma’am.”
“Fire them up.” Cindy orders. Everyone tenses up a little, no one knows what to expect.
John wonders if Edwards knows what he is missing. With the briefest trepidation, he touches the symbol while staring out the forward view. Nothing seems to happen, startled, thinking he hit the wrong symbol, he looks down at the alien console. It has changed a little. A few new symbols have appeared, as has a thin band that occupies the left side of his alien console. The lowest area of this band is lit. He notices that the symbol for the thrusters has gone out. Indeed, they are now offline, yet seemingly still available.
Glancing around the bridge he feels a little unsure, he had expected more, he is actually a little disappointed. On a hunch, he touches the band. The lighted area increases. He runs his finger further up, and the lit section expands. Looking forward, he can see that the stars seem to be shimmering.
Andrew glances back and forth between his laptop and the alien console. He leans toward Joe and exchanges quick whispers. Not feeling very confident, but wanting to report something, he sounds out. “If I am reading this correctly, Mars is approximately twenty minutes away.”
Cindy raises an eyebrow as an exciting thought comes to mind. We are flying to Mars in less time than most people spend getting to work.
“John, take us in slowly, let’s play it safe,” Cindy smiles as she adds, “this time.”
John slides his finger down the lit area and watches the band shrink down. He looks over to Andrew, questioningly.
Andrew taps commands into his laptop, touches a symbol on the Gamin console, then beams a massive smile. “A bit over an hour now, say seventy minutes, give or take.”
Cindy relaxes a little, still a quick trip.
Joe has been busy verifying Andrew’s data, while monitoring the twenty nuclear reactors. “This ship seems to have built in capacitors for every
system, as though the ship needs vast amounts of power for brief periods of time. I don’t get it, we’re running this entire ship on two percent power! What on Earth do the Gamin do with the rest?”
Though it was not really meant as a question, George answers. “This ship is missing main shields, weapons, and who knows what else.”
Cindy frowns a little at this, and asks. “So, we don’t have shields?”
George replies in his usual manner. “No, well yes, well it’s complicated. We have navigational shields, which deflect particles and provide data for the various systems that control gravity and inertia. Without those systems, we would not be able to accelerate or decelerate at these rates.”
Something about this bothers Cindy, but she puts it out of her mind. Later she will wish she had studied this whole process much more in depth. She asks the obvious question. “Am I to assume that the main shields are for combat?”
George is receiving a lot of data as he is literally monitoring every system, replies absently. “Yeah, and for deflecting larger objects.”
Joe has been watching power reserves and also starts to understand how the ship’s power grid and various capacitors work. “This ship is designed with an intertwining power grid. Even if one section were damaged, the various systems could probably still draw power. It’s like a city’s power grid really, very hard to knock out, and even if you did, just about every system has a built-in battery backup or capacitor, or whatever it’s called.”
Cindy considers this carefully as the minutes fly by quickly. Such redundancies would only be needed on a combat vessel, surely. She looks toward Peter, and can see that he is deep in thought.
The Terran travels through space with ease, its glowing sub-light engines efficiently driving them forward. Particles of space dust strike the ship, and are either deflected, or absorbed, by the navigational shields. The journey is swift, and seemingly incident free.
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 36