“I understand,” said Sharné. “It cannot carry any weapons because it has no shields to protect them. Without shields, the weapons would be vulnerable and could easily be destroyed in a firefight. Besides, there would not be a real need for them in any event, since the ship is impervious to weapons fire.
*Yes, but it does carry quite a number of sacrificial sensors that allow you to get the lay of the land while under attack, if it were necessary. Plus, if needed, the ship itself can act as a weapon, a very deadly weapon, in fact. It can quite easily ram any conventional ship and come out unscathed.
Owens frowned, “If you can’t have holes in the hull, how do you connect to and control the engines, emitter and sensors?”
Well, I won’t bore you with the details, but the data communication pathways to the hull’s exterior instruments and drives use a form of the skip-wave technology; that’s how you control the subspace emitter, reaction engines and sensors.*
Owens said, “Now that’s damned incredible. What you’re saying is that you communicate and control the external aspect of ship using a form of subspace transition. It uses the same principle we use to travel between the stars, but in this case, you’re only going a few meters, sending and receiving telemetry to and from the hull?”
*That’s right.*
“Does that mean that it can function within a gravity well?”
*Yes, if you wanted to, you could jump right into orbit around a planet. The use of conventional reaction engines to travel through a solar system is not necessary for this ship, freeing up even more interior space. Back when they used one like it to intimidate Confederated Planets, the leaders of Golstar kept that capability in reserve.*
“So what else is in the ship’s bag of magic tricks?”
Well, since the Trah-tang didn’t exactly think the way we do, they weren’t particularly keen on AI interface. Instead, you communicate directly to computer sub-controllers via a neural interface. This one has been modified for humans. Now, if you will please take a careful look toward the nose of the ship, I think you’ll be pleased.*
Owens and Sharné looked to where Hec had directed and saw in golden glowing letters emblazoned on the nose the words, Sherlock Holmes II.
*She’s all yours. I’m sorry that the words are only a projection, at least for the time being. Its name will disappear any time you go into defensive mode. It takes a long time to etch permanent letters on the wood, and I know we can’t afford the extra time it would take. The time for your departure is getting really close. I’ll etch it permanently when you return, and we have more time.*
Owens shook his head, “Damn Hec, I don’t know what to say, but thanks!”
Sharné smiled, “It is truly perfect, thank you, Hec. This is exactly what we will need.”
*Now let me show you the inside.*
Once again, they were transported. Owens blinked and looked around.
*You’re in the master stateroom,* Hec informed them unnecessarily.
The room was three times the size of the one in the original Holmes. The walls were richly paneled in polished wood. A huge four-poster bed dominated one side of the room. Night tables, chests, dresser and lamps all reflected a distinct Victorian flavor. An oversized roll-top desk with matching wooden chair was positioned against the opposing wall. Two overstuffed leather chairs completed the room’s ensemble.
Then Owens noticed in one corner, sitting on its pedestal, the sculpture of the Trah-tang child holding the bird. It was the one from their quarters in the Prime. Owens walked over and touched the figure’s face, “Thanks Hec. This will help keep things in perspective.”
“Owens, look.”
He looked to where Sharné was pointing. Sitting on a shelf built into a wall perched another sculpture. It was a depiction of a bird. It was a Glow Hawk. It was just as Sharné had described. The body was silvery crystal, its head platinum with piercing eyes of glowing red ruby.
*It’s a copy. There were a number of them stored away in the Palace. I thought you might like it as a memento.*
“So it was real.” He walked over to it and admired its grace.
Sharné nodded, “I am afraid it was the only element of the story… the one I related to you while we were back aboard the old Sherlock Holmes, which was actually true. At least as far as its existence,” she added.
He shrugged and said with grin, “Well as a work of fiction, it was fairly entertaining.”
She rewarded him by sticking out her tongue and making a rude noise.
His eyebrows rose at her unladylike response. He said to Hec, “Thanks. It will make one hell of a conversation piece.”
*You’re welcome... Hey, don’t forget the bathroom.*
Owens turned and saw that on one wall was an ornate brass hatch which opened onto a luxurious bathroom. He and Sharné looked inside. The tiled floor led to an oversized porcelain tub which could accommodate two people easily. There was a separate shower, again big enough for two people, a toilet and dressing counters. All the metal fittings were brass as well. Owens said with appreciation, “It sure looks like you’ve thought of everything.”
*Well, I tried to duplicate the setup in the Holmes as close as I could. Owing to the extra space gained from not needing huge shield generators or weapons modules, plus its overall larger dimensions, the Holmes II has lot of room. There's another stateroom similar in size to this one that can be converted into a lounge. There’s also a good sized, dedicated conference room and the storage and kitchen/dining facilities are larger too.*
“What about the ship’s control? Can I pilot this thing?”
*I don’t think you’ll be needing it. But I went ahead and modified the manual control system, so everything should be familiar. The ship’s normal, automated transport and control systems have been keyed to your neural wave patterns, so only you and Sharné will have mastery over the ship. I think you’ll be surprised at how easy it is to pilot this ship in its normal operation mode.*
Sharné sighed happily, “This should be quite comfortable, and again, you have my sincere thanks for all of your thoughtfulness.”
“Mine, too. You did a great job, Hec, but I don’t think we’ll need the extra bedroom.” He winked at Sharné and watched with affectionate amusement as a rosy flush began to climb her lovely neck.
He was a little surprised when she said, “Do not listen to him, Hec. The extra stateroom will still come in very handy should we ever find ourselves entertaining overnight guests.” She nestled against him, looking pointedly at the bed and whispered in his ear, “I cannot wait to try this one out for ourselves.”
His heart began to beat a little faster. It was going to be an interesting trip.
Epilog
Three Years Later…
In a private room of the hospital’s recovery wing, Hec was sitting up in a healing bed. Since being awakened from his cold stasis sleep, he underwent a series of treatments for his rejuvenation rejection syndrome. Some months before, the clinical trials for the newly discovered cure had been completed and on the heels of its certification, he had been thawed and given the drug regimen that would cure his affliction. Much of the bed’s monitoring equipment had been shut down, a positive sign that his recovery was almost complete. He had recently received his last treatment and within a few days, he would leave the hospital and be once again free to pursue his life-long dream of travel.
His thoughts drifted back to the AI module that he had modified before entering cryo-stasis. It seemed as if only a few weeks had passed since he had created the template of his mind and transferred it into the AI module. He was looking forward to retrieving it and gleaning its memory. His contract with the cruise line had been suspended during his illness. But now that he was cured, his agreement would once more be in force. Having gotten rid of his old shop, he would be forced to lease a new one. It would only be for a couple of years, and then he could retire for real.
He sighed in contentment and rubbed the dark stubble on his hea
d. They had shaved his hair prior to his freeze-down and it was just beginning to grow back. He looked down at the light-brown skin on his wiry arms, pleased by his improving muscle tone. He had always worked with his hands as well as his head. Of course, his legs were another matter. Due to his illness, they had atrophied worse, before he had entered cryo-sleep, but with the physical therapy machines, he was rapidly regaining the tone and strength in his legs as well. He wiggled his toes and was gratified by their immediate response. He once again had full control over his body.
He looked back up at the room’s recreation holo. He selected an all-news channel. He figured he might as well catch up on what he missed during his long, cold nap. He frowned as he watched a newscaster with purple hair and matching eyes describe the latest trade agreement reached between Confederated Planets and a system called Golstar. Now where in the hell was Golstar, he wondered. The name didn’t ring a bell. He shrugged. Astronomy wasn’t his strong point, neither was interplanetary politics.
The newscaster then went on to an upcoming regional election. After a few minutes of listening to the candidates deride each other, he snorted in disgust and switched over to a sports channel. It was hardly any better. He watched a boring rehash of some local sporting event. He couldn’t understand all the excitement over a game played on hover-scooters with sticks and a flying disc.
His eyes were just starting to close when the holo-image changed to the hospital receptionist’s pretty face. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Joulez.” She didn’t look sorry. “But there are some people here to see you,” she said in an artificially cheery voice.
Hec sat up a little straighter, rubbing his eyes. He tried to think of who he might know that would want to visit him. His reawakening wasn’t a newsworthy event by any means, and he couldn’t remember asking for anyone to be notified on his resurrection. He asked grumpily, “Who are they?”
A tiny frown marred her perfect face, and then she looked and consulted another display. Turning back to face him, she said brightly, “They identified themselves as Ms. Sharné Firestone and Mr. Janus Owens. They seemed quite anxious to see you.”
He thought a minute, trying to remember if he knew anyone by those names. He didn’t. He said, “Ah, what the hell… send them in. I was getting bored anyway.”
Her face disappeared and the game once again flashed across the holo-screen. “Sound off, ” he commanded and the announcers’ voices were cut off in midsentence. Hec smiled at the sudden silence.
Less than a minute later two people entered the room. As with most of the buildings on Genhome, the hospital was designed for people of short stature. The man who entered had to duck to clear the doorway; he was huge to Hec’s eyes. His presence seemed to fill the room. The statuesque woman accompanying him was almost as tall. As they entered, Hec was struck by their appearance. To him, they looked like a pair of gods, right out of ancient Earth mythology. Being used to the diminutive denizens of Genhome, their statures were startling. The man came forward and extended an enormous hand toward Hec. He was indeed the largest human being Hec had ever encountered and with a disarming grin the stranger said, “Hec, you can’t imagine how good it is to see you alive and well.”
With a little hesitation, Hec Extended his own hand and watched as it disappeared in the stranger’s enormous, firm grip. “Ah, thank you.”
The handshake was firm, but not painful. Still, when the man released him, Hec surreptitiously checked to make sure that his hand was in one piece. He looked up at the smiling man, and wondered if he was suffering some sort of aftereffects from the cryo-sleep. He looked from the man to the woman and couldn’t remember having ever of met either of them. Both were certainly unforgettable, but for different reasons. The man’s body builder’s physique and chiseled good looks would be hard to forget. And as for the woman, well no one could forget a woman of such striking beauty.
He shook his head and said, “Forgive me, but do I know you?”
The man chuckled, “Not yet. My name is Owens and the dazzling young woman beside me is Sharné.”
“You are just as I pictured.” The woman called Sharné came forward, bent over and kissed him on the cheek. Her lustrous auburn hair brushed his face and her scent was almost intoxicating. He would certainly have remembered had he ever met this drop-dead gorgeous woman.
Owens confirmed his thought. “Hec, you don’t know us, but we certainly do know you.” Owens drew up two chairs. He and Sharné sat down. “It’s a long story...”
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