Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials

by Jerry Borrowman

  Williams’ voice announced, “We have six of seven links completed, Mr. Brighton, you should have Tatrius in approximately two minutes.”

  The tremendous distances required a new form of communication. At first, lasers were used, but even at the speed of light communications could take years to transmit a message, then years to receive a reply. Aside from providing historical news, it was useless for contemporary communication.

  Then someone hit on the idea of studying Extra-Sensory Perception (ESP), that odd human ability to sense something is happening with another person even before traditional mechanical or electrical systems could respond. Unfortunately, researchers never succeeded in isolating how ESP worked, so they couldn’t duplicate its effect electronically. But they did learn to train those who were sensitive to such impressions to act as carriers for voice, visual and limited file transmissions across the darkness of space. Amazingly, a string of Espers, scattered across the quadrants, could transmit volumes of data without ever invading the privacy of those sending it, unless they consciously tuned into the impressions. Acting as a communications link had become one of the highest paid professions throughout the entire Earth Descendencies and some families actually made it their legacy to raise their children for employment as Espers in “ComServe,” where it was a matter of principle to strictly observe privacy protocols.

  Even at that, the distance two Espers could communicate across was limited, so it often took numerous links to get a message through. Contemporaneous communication was available for up to ten links. Beyond that, a delay began to set in, which required the parties to pause while awaiting a response. The distance to Earth was so great that it took more than 150 links from Kalenden, making contemporaneous communication impossible. That’s why nearly all messages were sent as text, which was less likely to deteriorate than a voice message and where a delayed response was acceptable. Still, Tatrius was close enough to Kalenden that contemporaneous voice was available, though expensive. A Code-6 Transmission meant that only the most reliable and experienced Espers were involved, with absolute privacy guaranteed. That’s why it took really big coronas to pay for it.

  “Final Link in progress, Sir!”

  Brighton’s heart rate increased at the thought of talking with Sondra again. He’d been very hard on her in their earlier conversation, even going so far as to question whether he was the child’s father. Although she acted tough, like it didn’t matter if he was willing to accept paternity, he knew that she was simply not one to make a false accusation. He suspected that he’d been the only man she’d been with, which added to his feeling of guilt.

  So, why would she call me, if not to hope I’d take an interest in her and the child? He pursed his lips and unconsciously rubbed his thighs, which hurt from the suppressed tension.

  “You have Tatrius, Sir,” said Williams triumphantly.

  “Terrific job, Mr. Williams, I doubt anyone’s ever connected in less than ten minutes. You’re the best.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Williams smiled, “I’ll activate the privacy field now and you can enter the remaining numbers.”

  Williams face disappeared and a holographic keypad appeared in front of Brighton. He typed in Sondra’s private communications address and felt his throat tighten as the audio indicator sounded its repetitive tone, indicating that the hail was being received at her residence. Of course he had no idea what time of day or night it might be on Tatrius, since he’d completely forgotten to have the computer check for the best time to call.

  “Hello?” Sondra’s voice sounded tense and tired.

  “It’s me again, Tom.”

  “Tom? I thought you’d said everything you wanted to say during our earlier call.”

  His face flushed with regret.

  “No, not everything. I didn’t tell you I’m sorry for reacting so badly. You deserved better.” He heard her catch her breath, probably her indignation turning to confusion.

  “The truth is, Sondra…” he struggled for breath. “The truth is that you took me so totally by surprise that my brain didn’t register exactly what was going on until long after my mouth had made a fool of me.”

  She attempted a laugh, but didn’t say anything.

  “Sondra, if you want to raise a child, then I’m glad for you. I still can’t entirely get my mind around the thought that I could be a father. For reasons I’ve never shared with anyone, I’d made up my mind to never have a child. But, that’s changed.”

  “Tom.” She worked hard to control her voice. “I’m … I’m sorry I dropped this on you, but I didn’t know who else to tell. My mother’s the only one I could count on to understand and she’s visiting her family on Kalenden. It was just too big for me to keep to myself.”

  “I understand,” he said, “you were right to call me. I think I’m better prepared to talk about it now. We’re certainly not the first people this has happened to.” He felt himself sweating, which annoyed him greatly. “We can work everything out.” He tried to sound reassuring, yet not endearing.

  Just as he was about to continue, a sudden, very cold dread started at the top of his head and worked its way down into his consciousness. When it reached his stomach, he felt like someone had slugged him.

  “Did you say your mother was visiting relatives on Kalenden?”

  “Yes, my grandmother and aunt.”

  Brighton gasped for air and mumbled weakly, “But, I thought your parents were Tatrians, that you’re Tatrian.”

  “My father is, but my mom moved here from Kalenden as a teenager, when her dad accepted an appointment to an interplanetary engineering exchange program. What’s wrong, you sound terrible again.”

  Brighton couldn’t talk. He’d placed the call on an impulse after the thought struck him that he could create a trust fund for the child without ever formally accepting paternity. That would have protected him from prosecution by the Fleet Adjutant, even if the whole thing were ever discovered. But, if Sondra was half Kalenden, then he was open to criminal prosecution.

  “Tom, what’s wrong?” Sondra pleaded.

  “It’s just that I didn’t know about your mom.”

  “Tom, nothing’s changed. I still plan to raise the child by myself. No one ever needs to know about it. I just wanted you to.” She sounded genuinely confused. How could she possibly understand the repercussions he would face? She’d grown up in a system that was so much more accepting of unusual situations that she simply had no way to understand his plight.

  “Sondra, we need to find a way to talk this over, face-to-face. Perhaps we could meet on Stirium and spend a few days together?” Stirium was a privately owned planetoid located about half-way between Kalenden and Tatrius, notoriously secretive so that prominent people could slip in and out undetected.

  “I’d like to see you,” she said, “but I’m not showing any signs of the pregnancy. In fact, it’s unlikely that I’ll ever show – you know that a Tatrian woman’s build helps keep private things private.” She tried to laugh. “So, I don’t see that there’s a rush for us to get together. Why don’t you visit me here on your ship’s next regular visit? I know you’d be embarrassed to have people see us together, but Stirium frightens me for some reason?”

  “It’s nothing like that, Sondra. I’m not ashamed of you. It’s just that I can’t risk being seen inside the Quadrant.” His mind raced. If he told her everything, she could blackmail him. But, if he didn’t trust her with the situation she could make an innocent mistake that would ruin everything.

  “Sondra, I could be arrested for getting a Kalenden pregnant. At the very least, my career will be over and I’ll have to move out of the system.” It was in her hands now.

  “But, how will anyone ever know? I told you I’m prepared to raise the child by myself.”

  “Oh, they’ll know. Believe me, they will.” She sensed the anger in his voice – not directed at her, but at whoever “they” were.

  “When the baby is born, they’ll post his or her g
enetic tracer to the Interstellar Registry. The Kalenden Department of Genetics has pre-programmed their systems to automatically identify all children born with more than 50% Kalenden DNA patterns. I’ll supply 50%, you’ll supply 25% and so there will be a positive match. Then I’ll receive a coded message to report to the nearest star base where they’ll start the inquiry. And that will be that.”

  “Tom, I’m sorry.” What more could she say? “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought I’d protected against pregnancy. But, as you may have guessed, I didn’t really have experience at that sort of thing and simply did it wrong. Being with you was great, but now it’s ruined everything for you. I’m sorry.”

  Brighton rubbed his temples. “Me, too” he sighed.

  Sorry, for myself, he thought savagely. But what about them, why don’t you feel sorry for Sondra and your child?

  “Sondra, we have to get together and talk. I need to think through all this.”

  “I’ll go to Stirium, Tom. When do you want me there?”

  “I’ll have to arrange a Leave of Absence and come up with some excuse to travel in that vicinity. I could probably get there in…”

  Brighton’s room suddenly went red, the lights pulsing in a Code 1 Alert. The alert overrode the Privacy Field, interrupting their conversation with the order,

  “All officers to the Bridge! All Officers to the Bridge!”

  “What now?” Brighton sputtered. “Sondra, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, something’s happening. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

  “But, Tom, wait, when,…”

  The connection was automatically broken by the fifteen-second protocol initiated by a Code 1 Alert. He stood alone in the silence, the lights flashing menacingly around him.

  It seemed an ideal metaphor for his life. A fifteen minute out-of-parsec communications link is going to cost a fortune. And now an alert. And a baby! Can’t forget the baby. What else can go wrong?

  2 - Troubled Frontier

  Brighton entered the bridge conference room to find the other officers taking their seat. The color of the month was blue, with all furnishings in the room color-coordinated with the military artwork to create a sense of visual unity. Brighton particularly liked this scheme since the paintings all featured ancient sailing craft on white tipped ocean waves. “Much better than next month’s theme,” he thought, when all the fabrics and textures in the room would automatically shift to “Crimson Sunset,” featuring desert warfare pictures. He shuddered at the thought.

  Glancing at a painting of a 72-gun frigate with all sails run out, he wondered what it would be like to have lived on Earth in those ancient times, when a sailor’s essential skills included navigating by the stars and figuring out how to beat against the wind to gain the advantage of an adversary in battle. Strategy was everything and men had to display a rare kind of personal bravery to engage in hand-to-hand combat once two ships grappled together in a life-and-death struggle. Of course the motivation was the promise of prize money – capture an enemy ship and everyone onboard got to share in the value of the ship and its contents. That was enough to motivate even the most cowering of seamen to throw caution to the wind. How different things were once the navies were automated and combat meant firing 2,000-pound shells across an expanse of twenty nautical kilometers, or, later, launching ballistic missiles that traveled upwards of a hundred kilometers. Then, when humans began to conquer space, deep-space torpedoes often traveled tens of thousands of kilometers before striking their targets. Battles became so impersonal you could kill people without ever seeing their face. Perhaps the old battles were better because you had to measure the real cost in personal terms and the blood on your hands was literal, rather than abstract.

  “Gentlemen, we’ve just received a coded transmission from Fleet Command indicating a problem in the Keswick System. As the closest ship, we’re instructed to proceed to the planetoid Keswick where a rebel force is threatening the Royal Family. Any trouble there can threaten the orchidite supply, which would cripple our economy. The Keswick Royal Family has sent out a general request for assistance and both Alturus and Kalenden have chosen to respond.”

  There was an audible gasp in the room, which forced Jesik to pause for a moment. “You heard right – Alturus is on their way. After 100 years our two militaries will be circling the same small planetoid. The risk couldn’t be greater. Lieutenant Wight will now brief us on our approach.”

  The Lieutenant stepped forward a bit awkwardly and motioned for the computer to display a two-dimensional map of the Kalenden and Alturus Star Quadrants. “As you can see, the Keswick system lies on the historical boundary of Alturus and Kalenden. Since it consists of just two stars, with approximately 1000 asteroids in orbit and twenty planetoids, it fails to qualify as a member of either quadrant. Previous applications to join our Quadrant have been rejected since the only planetoid that can support life is Keswick, which orbits the primary star. There are approximately thirty million inhabitants on a single continent. The population has been in balance for at least 150 years.”

  He paused to give everyone a chance to study the charts and get oriented to the course before them. “The approach is tricky, because of the high number of asteroids that interfere with a clear shot for the vortex. Captain Jesik has requested a maximum vortex drift to the outer boundary of Kalenden, with a forced reduction to light drive to maneuver through the asteroid belt. At that rate it will take us two Kalenden-months to reach Keswick, one in vortex drive to cover ninety percent of the distance, one in light drive for the asteroids. We’ll have a scheduled stop on Space Station Twelve for supplies and information when we come out of vortex drive.”

  “May I ask what our involvement will be, Sir?” asked Lieutenant Sean Magill, now grown up and appointed to serve. Both he and Travis Eaves had requested appointment to the Allegro because of their admiration for Pietr Jesik.

  Jesik frowned and asked if there were any questions about the approach before proceeding to the political questions. It was all pretty straightforward, so no one really needed more information at that point, although Brighton seemed to take a more active interest when Space Station Twelve was mentioned.

  “Alright, Mr. Magill, on to your question. I’ve asked our political officer to fill you in on the situation, as we know it. Mr. Barrows, proceed.”

  First Lieutenant Keith Barrows stepped forward and shifted the map to a three dimensional image. Pointing to Alturus he began his briefing, “As you know, Alturus is an historical rival to the Kalenden System. In the first 50 years after separation, we fought three separate engagements that cost more than one million lives on each side. The final war was so devastating that it cost nearly 15 percent military casualties on Alturus and effectively decimated the Kalenden military structure. Both sides agreed to give up in exhaustion. The neutral area between the two systems has been observed ever since. Kalenden society was so dispirited by the war that the formal aristocracy was abandoned and the system became a Republic. Of course families in our system are still categorized by class, but membership in the first-class is not a formal pre-requisite for government service.”

  “May I ask, Sir, if any sort of unofficial contact exists between the two systems today?”

  “A good question, Lieutenant Magill, with an unfortunate answer. While we maintain Space Station 12 to monitor any incursions into our space and to facilitate communications should Alturus wish to contact us, we now have more than a century under our belt with virtually no contact, until this past week. Our Espers occasionally detect communications emanating from the Alturian Quadrant, so we’ve known they’re still out there. Plus, we can monitor their video broadcasts to neutral systems, which has given us some insight to their continuing development.”

  Brighton joined in and added, “We also have occasional face-to-face contact when competing with the Alturians for trading alliances outside our own systems, but their people are quite aloof. As far as I know there’s never been even a casual con
versation with any of their representatives.”

  “Doesn’t sound very friendly,” replied Magill.

  Lieutenant Travis Eaves raised his hand. “In view of what you’ve just told us, I’m not entirely clear, Mr. Barrows, about the order of battle once we reach Keswick. Will we be fighting with Alturian troops, or in opposition?”

  “Both systems will be fighting as allies of the ruling family. The reason, quite simply, is that Keswick has an abundant supply of orchidite, which they sell to both sides. Their ore is particularly hot, so it’s extremely effective in powering a vortex drive. The rebels have been agitating for Keswick to raise prices to enhance their standard of living, but the Loyalist government wants stability, so hasn’t been willing to risk antagonizing their customers by a precipitous price increase. Of course neither Alturus nor Kalenden want the rebels to gain control of the mines, so we’ll be fighting as reluctant allies. As to your unspoken question, we quite honestly don’t know what this new contact with an ancient enemy is going to do. We can hope that it will give us the opportunity to establish civil relationships now that all the old combatants are gone. But, who knows, perhaps there are still some smoldering embers just waiting to be fanned back to life and we’ll find that even as we act as allies in the immediate conflict, old wounds will be re-opened. This is new ground for everyone.”

  “Which is one of the reasons why, gentlemen, you will drill your troops in battlefield etiquette and provide extensive training on Alturian customs and manners.” Jesik shifted his gaze to each officer in the room until he was satisfied they’d heard his threat. “Under no circumstances will this ship provide an excuse for hostilities between these two systems. Is that understood?” Each officer nodded assent. “Good. Thank you Mr. Barrows. Weapons, please continue the briefing about expected battlefield conditions.”