Others, who wished to maintain anonymity, slipped off to the West Side of Eighth Avenue, where the buildings resembled old brothels and porn houses, but without actual pictures or prostitutes. There were, however, enough dark corners in which some ancient vices were actually played out. Parents passing through these areas in quaint old wheeled-vehicles called busses lectured their children sternly about the wickedness of the ancient times and about how lucky they were to grow up in a civilized society. They were often embarrassed when their kids asked them what was evil, back when.
Kalenden’s theatre community added to the festivities by building numerous temporary playhouses to perform old shows like “Cats,” “Phantom” and “Les Miserable.”
The bazaar and competition was a grand extravaganza that left everyone exhausted when it was done, but immediately afterward, planning for the next year’s event began.
Like most first-time visitors, Eaves and Carter wanted to try everything, but ended up spending most of their time moving between lines without doing much of anything. Finally they contented themselves by walking down Broadway to a busy intersection called Times Square where they enjoyed a delicious, old-world delicacy called pizza.
“What a mess of a place this city must have been,” Carter said in awe. “Imagine, having a series of streets set up on a grid, only to be sliced through by another street that runs on a north-south diagonal.”
“The historic guide says that Broadway was originally a Native American trail that was left where it was, as the rest of the city grew around it.”
“Well, from an engineering point-of-view, this place is crazy,” Carter continued, “and the sooner we get out of here, the better. Besides, these people are acting like idiots.” He said that as they walked past a somber fellow wearing a wig and playing a stringed instrument called a sitar.
“Jason, if you stay with me long enough, I may be able to help you see that there’s more to life than right angles and quadrants. Personally, I love this place – it’s so alive with energy and fun. It makes me wish time travel was possible, so I could go back and see what it was really like. But, good old Stephen Hawking took the idea of time travel away from us with his stab at unified theory, how many hundred years ago?”
“I wish you’d show proper respect when talking about the great philosophers,” Carter hissed. “The reason we’re here is because of men like Hawking. And he didn’t take time travel away, he just stated the natural law that makes it impossible. You can be so juvenile, sometimes.”
“I’ll try to be more serious when talking about important people. Just promise you’ll help us win the competition, so we get invited back next year. There’s a lot more of this place I want to see. Besides, I’ll bet Stephen Hawking and Einstein both liked New York.”
Carter shook his head and hailed a yellow device called a taxi. Fifteen minutes later, the two Lieutenants emerged at a drab place called Pennsylvania Station and entered a permanent structure named Madison Square Garden, although it didn’t look like there was a garden within thirty blocks of the place.
“Wow and I thought it was exciting to fly space fighters,” Eaves said exultantly. “When I get really good, I may try driving a taxi at the Manhattan Festival.”
“Well, that’s where our partnership ends,” said Carter, rubbing his temples. “There’s no way you’ll ever get me back into one of those things. It’s no wonder our ancestors couldn’t wait to leave Earth.”
The evening variety show in “the Garden” was a lot of fun, with period actors singing and dancing and loud bands playing outlandish music. In any normal circumstance, people would have left the place disgusted, but a festival gives everyone the chance to loosen up a bit. Even four hundred years of the best genetic engineering wasn’t enough to breed out every single aspect of mankind’s ancient urges and impulses, although the government certainly tried its best.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, with a stiff breeze blowing in from the west. At 06:40 O’Casey grasped Eaves hands and implored, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along. I’m certain I can get an exception since you’re a fighter pilot.”
“You’d embarrass us if you did, Chief,” Eaves replied simply. “Carter and I either have it, or we don’t. With all due respect, Sir, I’ll be more relaxed if you’re not there.”
“I suppose so,” O’Casey said with resignation. “But, if you damage my shuttle…”
“You’ll kill us where we stand,” Carter and Eaves said in unison.
“To hell with you, then,” O’Casey retorted. “If you need me, I’ll be at a place called an Irish pub somewhere south of here. Find your own way out of a jam!”
“Thank you Sir. Thanks very much for all your time.” Eaves sounded unusually sincere. “And thanks, too, for believing in us. It means a lot.”
O’Casey blustered about the atmosphere on Kalenden in winter as he wiped some moisture from his eye and hurried out of the shuttle. Jesik wished them luck, then turned to the maintenance crew and shook each of their hands in turn. Then he, too, departed. Left onboard were Carter, Eaves, seven engineers assigned to the technical crew and five stewards to serve the twenty-five guests seated in the passenger cabin. Normally, a passenger shuttle would accommodate fifteen hundred, but there was no need to move so many for the competition.
Eaves gave last minute, unmonitored instructions to the technical crew. There was one engineer assigned to the reactor and electric generator, one crew member for each corner and two rovers who directed the small platoon of robots that fixed any external damage while the shuttle was in flight.
“Everyone clear on what we need to get done on the trip back down? You need to slip the modifications onboard the shuttle while we’re docked with Allegro.”
“We’re clear, Lieutenant. I sure hope you’re right about these enhancements. If not, O’Casey will bust us all.”
“He’s right,” Carter chirped in. “Plus, we’ll be a laughingstock, forever known as the guys who aren’t smart enough to know the difference between a shuttle and a fighter. Are you sure you want to do this?” Everyone looked at Eaves expectantly.
“If we lose, no one will give us trouble. If we win, they’ll have to check the rules and we’re on solid ground. I don’t plan to use any of these things unless the competition is close. You know the weather reports as well as I do – a gale warning for Wednesday. If it becomes as bad as they predict, most crews will forfeit the day’s competition, rather than risk damaging their shuttle or a permanent structure. We can, too, but that means a lot of time wasted in training and practice. But, with these adjustments, I believe I can control the ship no matter how bad it gets outside. Then, nobody will laugh.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” said Master Sergeant Price, “but if you promise you’ll only use them in an emergency, we’ll get to work.”
“Promise. Now assume your assigned positions for take-off.” Even though barely twenty-three years old, Eaves spoke with the authority of a line officer and the crew responded instantly. Many were at least a decade older than him.
The view out the front of the shuttlecraft presented a stark winter landscape, sculpted by drifted snow. Perched nearly thirty feet above the ground, Eaves looked out on the crowd assembled to watch their take-off. Glancing at the video monitors providing a 360-degree view of their surroundings, he noted the large apartment buildings that floated on either side of the park, hosting some of the system’s most influential politicians and military leaders. The advantage of an early start was that most of them were still asleep, thanks to the previous night’s partying.
With an acknowledging signal from the Judges’ Platform, Eaves turned to Carter and spoke briskly, “Coordinates for a direct ascent to Allegro?”
Carter punched controls on his navigation console. Displaying a large map on their common video monitor, he acknowledged, “Course laid in for a three-quarter orbit ascent.” That meant the planet would complete approximately three-quarte
rs of a revolution in the fourteen hours expected for the ship to rise to the Allegro which, at the moment, was in a geo-synchronous orbit directly above them.
“Any traffic concerns?”
“There are routine flights out of JFK and LaGuardia airports so you’ll need to watch your drift to avoid their flight paths.” It had been hundreds of years since people boarded aircraft to go from city to city. Now, individual membrane pods propelled forward by an excellent grid of high-powered super-magnets provided far greater speed, using far less energy. But, to keep the Twentieth Century feel of the competition, the shuttles had to maneuver between ancient air lanes populated by holographic jet aircraft.
With a final “All Clear” from the control tower, Eaves pushed the electrical control lever that released the cold fusion rod in the main reactor forward, which, in turn, sent a flow of current to the lower membranes. Their anti-gravity-membrane computer instantly analyzed the content of the bedrock just a few feet under the surface of Central Park and the ship began to rise up confidently. Eaves delayed activating the upper membranes until he could get a feel for the various air currents.
“All four landing paws left the ground at precisely the same moment,” said Carter with obvious satisfaction. As they reached an altitude of fifty meters, the breeze off the Hudson River caught their port side and the ship started to drift. Eaves activated the starboard membranes, advancing the control stick slowly until it’s resistance matched the force of the wind. At five hundred feet the wind intensified and they sensed a rolling motion caused by updrafts from the city canyons.
“I think it’s time to get out of here.” Eaves cheerfully activated the massive upper membrane, which had lots of moisture to pull against in the heavy cloud cover. The ship’s ascent rate increased noticeably and the wind started a rolling motion that was briefly disorienting. Eaves divided the upper and lower membranes into the traditional four quadrants, which allowed him to electronically compensate for some of the rolling motion by opposing the waves as they passed under and above the ship. In a few moments, the passenger cabin amidships was rock steady, although the outer edges of the ship continued to flex with each succeeding blast. Carter glanced at the passenger monitor and saw that everyone was settled comfortably in their seats.
“Clear of the buildings and well out of the airline flight paths,” Carter called out in his routine voice. Their intra-ship communications were now being monitored in the judges’ booth and the observation buildings. Once above 60,000 kilometers, they would have privacy, except for surface-to-shuttle or ship-to-shuttle communications, which would also be available for those wishing to listen in via the inter-stellar net.
Their assigned flight path called for a pass over New Jersey as the planet rotated beneath them. As the Hudson River drifted 40,000 meters below them, this was a perfectly routine flight. Suddenly alarm bells sounded and red warning lights started flashing on the instrument panel.
“Collision Warning! Collision Warning!” the computer repeated in an urgent tone.
Eaves reached down and hit the mute button.
“A high speed private jet is off course for a landing at Newark International,” Carter said evenly. He pushed a button on his console and called out, “Unidentified aircraft, acknowledge hail and change course to 180 degrees east, vector 12 south.” He’d activated an all-frequencies hail that would override all other communications in the area. It was standard operating procedure. The jet aircraft, however, continued its approach.
“Control tower, please identify alien jet and advise action.” Protocol required that military aircraft submit to the direction of civilian command in such situations. But, at this point it was impossible to determine if the jet was a routine flight that was off-course or had a more sinister intent.
“Control tower, please respond!”
There was no response from the unidentified aircraft or the control tower. In fact there was absolute silence from all communications ports.
“I believe we’ve had two randoms thrown at us,” said Carter, “An unidentified bogey and a communications failure.”
“A great way to start the morning. How long before collision?”
“238 seconds on present course.”
Eaves had a number of choices. If the unidentified aircraft continued on its present course, the standard response was to initiate an emergency descent, using maximum power to both upper and lower membranes. He took just five seconds to determine that because of the strength of the wind current, which was lifting the ship from the west, there was not enough time for the standard procedure. His only real choice was to re-direct all power to the forward membranes and depress their attitude more sharply, thus barely avoiding a collision. However, that would also throw the passengers out of their seats and perhaps start an uncontrolled spin towards the planet.
Instead of instituting the emergency dive, however, Eaves zoomed the starboard cameras to bring the unidentified ship into close focus.
“Quit wasting time!” said Carter as the computer screamed, “Collision Imminent! Collision Imminent! Take Evasive Action!”
“Travis, do something!”
Eaves punched a spot on his computer screen, which responded with an acknowledging beep. He shouted, “Hostile Alien! Fire anti-ship lasers and an air-to-air missile.”
Carter froze for a moment, as did the passengers and crewmembers who were following the action on their video screen. But, his military discipline took over and Carter’s fingers moved faster than the eye could follow. A blinding light seared out from the starboard side of the shuttlecraft as a missile deployed from its underbelly. The laser caught the enemy craft head on, obviously destroying its sensors. It started a high-speed spin towards the ground. Then the missile struck, incinerating it a fiery ball.
“What have you done?” cried Carter. “That was a real target, not a holograph. We’ve just killed people!”
Their instruments picked up an approaching missile launched by the destroyed alien ship. Eaves thrust the two forward quadrant controls to provide maximum lift, while executing a sharp turn to port. He mashed a button that Carter had never seen used before that controlled an old-fashioned grape canister cannon, which shot out debris three points below their starboard side. The lumbering shuttle inched up precipitously in the forward two quadrants while the aft quarters settled back. The missile was expected to strike in twelve seconds but, at ten seconds, it veered off course and exploded as it impacted one of the grape clusters. A tearing noise ground throughout the shuttle. The lights went out, throwing the passenger cabin into complete darkness.
Now there was absolute silence, except for the sound of Eaves working to bring the ship back level with the horizon. Then, all hell broke lose! The lights came back on, the communications panel lit up with more than a dozen incoming hails and the sound of all seven maintenance stations trying to report simultaneously overwhelmed the intercom system.
“Everyone quiet!” ordered Eaves. “Carter, don’t answer any hails until I get a damage report. Mr. Price, follow standard reporting procedures and let me know the condition of the ship!”
“Yes, Sir. We’ve taken a number of shrapnel hits on the northeast quadrant, but fortunately there’s enough outside air pressure to maintain environmental integrity. One power line was cut, which is why we went dark, but we’ve managed to restore power. All systems are functional.”
“Casualties?”
“None among the crew and the chief steward reports just minor bruises and perhaps an arm sprain among the passengers.”
“Very good.”
Before he could turn to Carter, Price interrupted, “What happened, Sir? Why would a real ship attack us? There’s never been a random like that.”
Eaves looked at the anxious faces in the monitors, as well as Carter’s, and replied, “I don’t know for sure, but I do have a theory which I need to confirm with ground control. Mr. Price, how long will repairs take?”
“I’ve got all robots deplo
yed and they should be able to patch the holes in about three hours. You can continue an ascent if you wish, but at some point I’ll need to complete a pressure check for any small holes.”
“Let me know when you’re ready and we’ll bring the ship to neutral. Will you be able to isolate the passenger cabin during the test? A pressure test is extremely painful to people’s ears.”
“Yes, Sir, I can.”
“Thank you… and thank your crew for the excellent work. Okay, Jason, get me ground control.”
“You have an Admiral on another hail.”
“Like I said, ground control.”
Upon contact, Eaves quickly brought ground control up to speed on the action they’d taken, as well as the damage suffered.
“Maintain your position and clear communications for an urgent connect to Fleet Command.”
Colonel Kensington’s face appeared on their monitor. “What the blazes have you two done up there? You shot down a live fighter in full view of half the quadrant. Explain yourself.”
Four other monitors activated as others in the command structure came on line, including the image of the Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff, the highest ranking Admiral in the Fleet, the Defense Minister and Captain Jesik. It was intimidating to say the least and Eaves hesitated briefly.
“Just tell us what happened, Travis,” said Jesik.
“Yes, Sir. At first I thought it was a random and was about to take standard evasive action. But something in the shape of the ship caught my attention. I knew I’d seen it before and something was wrong. So I hesitated just long enough to confirm with the computer. I checked to see if it was a live ship or holographic image. Then I had three independent systems confirm its identity before I fired our laser blast and missile. Finally, I took evasive action to avoid their missile.”
Kensington began to shout again, saying it was natural for the ship to launch a counter-missile after Eaves’ attack, but the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs interrupted. “Tell us what you saw that made you launch your missile.”
Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials Page 21