“Sir, the configuration was identical to the rebel fighters we encountered on Keswick. It is not part of our active fleet. Its approach was clearly hostile and if I didn’t take action when I did it would be impossible to avoid contact.”
“But how could you know it was hostile and not just an unexpected variation to the trials?”
“I wish I could tell you I had absolute knowledge, Sir, but I didn’t. There wasn’t time. But I could see from its exhaust plume that the ship was accelerating, not decelerating and it was aimed amidships, not forward or aft as one would expect if it was a fly-by. Finally, the computer positively identified it as Keswick rebel and so I felt I had no choice but to fire.”
Eaves looked at the monitors, expectantly, saw that his explanation had done little to quell their uncertainty. Kensington glanced up several times, fury in his eyes.
“One more thing, Sir.”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“I believe you’ll find, Sir, that they actually fired their missile before we fired our weapons. It’s just that the laser was instantaneous and it masked their launch.”
Carter’s fingers moved frantically over the keys. “He’s right,” said Carter in astonishment. “They did launch their missile first.”
There was some whispered conversations on the monitors and then an unidentified officer came into the Admiral’s monitor and handed him a printed readout. The Admiral looked up and said, “Our records verify what you’ve reported, Lieutenant. They did fire first. It appears your actions were definitely defensive in nature, although for the life of me I can’t see how you figured that all out in fifteen seconds. Hold your current position while we assess what’s happened. We’ll need a political decision as to whether the trials can proceed.”
“Yes Sir.”
“ And don’t share this intelligence with anyone.”
Kensington glowered from his monitor, but kept silent. A few moments later all four monitors went blank.
Carter saw Eaves relax, loosen his grip on the ship’s controls. Even the color returned to his knuckles.
“So, how do you think the Keswick rebels got past Boundary Patrol?”
“You saw the ship, it was almost perfectly disguised as a private commercial aircraft. Boundary Patrol probably thought it was coming to join one of the parades.”
“But, why disrupt the shuttle trials. What’s to be gained? They had to know it would infuriate the entire system.”
“You’ll have to talk to Magill for a good answer for that.” Eaves sounded dejected. “Politics is his specialty. My guess is that they hoped to provoke an overreaction by the government, which would piss off all the second and third-class families here. That would create the needed dissent to bring their revolution to Kalenden. I’d bet everything in my wallet that a similar incident has, or will happen on Alturus. It’s an act of terrorism that’ll shake up a few star systems and that turned you and me into killers.”
Glancing down, Eaves saw that Carter’s hands were trembling. “You did great, Jason. I know you thought I was crazy to order the attack, but you followed my orders anyway. It took a lot of courage. Thanks.”
Carter looked away momentarily and acted like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. It had probably been a lot tougher to follow that order than he wanted to admit.
“Let’s check on our passengers. After all, their comfort is the second most important factor in our overall score.”
Carter smiled and said, “I think that’s the ship’s Commanders job. I’ll watch the console while you go back and talk with them.”
Eaves was more than his usual charming self. He apologized for the bumpy ride, explained that a non-holographic ship had launched a missile and that he’d taken the necessary precautions to protect the ship. The minor damage they’d suffered would soon be repaired and their shuttle was now in the safest place in the universe, since a full-scale military alert was providing them with complete fighter protection. Perhaps it was the confident demeanor that he exuded but the passengers all relaxed.
Turning to a steward he said, “I understand you have new clothing for each of our passengers.” Then, looking at the floor, which still showed spilled coffee and snacks, he continued, “Perhaps this would be a good time for them to take a break and clean up.”
“Yes, Sir,” said the steward, happy to be noticed. “Before takeoff, we contacted their home planet to learn each of our guest’s measurements, fabric preference, etc. We’ll be glad to provide them each a private cubicle to collect their thoughts and change. Then we’ll serve an early luncheon, if that’s alright with you, Sir.”
Eaves looked around at the astonished passengers, amazed that life was to go on as normal in spite of what they’d been through. He was pleased and embarrassed when they applauded.
“Show them the way, Steward. It seems they like your style!”
Nearly three hours later they received word from Fleet Headquarters. Fortunately, the guests weren’t impatient, since they’d all budgeted plenty of time for a leisurely ascent to the Allegro. But it had been nerve-wracking for Eaves and Carter. Every communications hail was answered immediately, but all proved to be routine updates and course corrections. While their shuttle sat motionless in the atmosphere, the planet continued to rotate, which meant they’d passed into a new air control sector.
Finally, exhausted by the waiting, Captain Jesik initiated the awaited hail. Eaves was visibly relieved when Jesik informed him that it was decided that the Trials would continue. A planetary search confirmed the destroyed fighter as the only one of its kind on the planet and so the Prime Minister announced that he was not going to let the terrorists stop the games. The entire planetary defense establishment went on full alert and the increased security would make it safe for the games to carry on. Eaves wished Jesik had used a secure channel, so he could pass on a concern he’d been thinking about, but it was an open link and anyone might be listening, so he kept his thoughts to himself. Jesik wished them good luck and signed off.
The robots finished their initial repair to the hull, so Carter cleared a new flight plan and Eaves resumed their ascent.
“I guess it was dumb luck that at the precise moment the fighter attacked us, the computer threw us our first random, the communications blackout.”
Eaves smiled at Carter and agreed. Then he initiated a quick communications blackout, so that no one could overhear his next comment. “It was either bad luck, or someone in the command structure is in league with the terrorists.”
A cold chill shot up Carter’s spine. “There might be more?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. But we have to be on full alert for the next four days, which is why I want you to take a nap right now so that you’ll be fresh when I get tired. But make it a short one.”
Carter knew better than to argue with Eaves, so he stepped back to the small cot nestled in an alcove behind his position. He assumed it’d be impossible to fall asleep, but was startled when the alarm woke him a couple of hours later.
The rest of the ascent went without incident. They reached static orbit, where the anti-gravity-membranes lost their effectiveness, at precisely three hours behind their initial estimated time of arrival. Commander Brighton positioned the Allegro ten kilometers above them and the shuttle pulled forward. The docking maneuver was flawless and the shuttle’s passengers stepped easily through the pressure seal into the comfort of the Allegro where they were escorted to visitor’s quarters for a shower and some much needed-sleep.
The only dangerous part of the whole operation was when O’Casey got a look at the shuttle’s hull. He’d flown up earlier on a high-speed propellant shuttle and now widely cursed the terrorists, Eaves, Carter, even his own parents for having children. He deployed his entire maintenance crew to inspect the shuttle, with special attention to the robot welds.
Then, after making an appropriate show of indignation, he pulled Carter and Eaves aside quietly and said, “Naturally the entire shuttl
e service is up-in-arms about what happened. Everyone on the planet is speculating whether you were the specific target of the terrorist attack because of the Allegro’s role in suppressing the Keswick Rebellion, or if the fighter simply meant to destroy the first shuttlecraft to launch. One thing for sure, if it had been any other team, their shuttle would lie in pieces on the planet surface. At any rate, I’m not sure it’s over, so you two have to be extra cautious.”
It was Carter who replied. “Thank you, Mr. O’Casey, but I think that if we were specifically targeted, the reason may be that we’re both from first-class families. It wouldn’t do the rebels any good to blow up just anybody.”
Eaves was surprised by Carter’s words. They showed good insight to the political aspect of the situation, something Carter usually ignored.
“Could be.” O’Casey nodded. “With your permission, I’ll pass that comment along to Shuttle Command. They need all the information they can get right now, for the whole planet is in an uproar and the authorities are scrambling to make it look like they’re in full control of the situation.”
He studied the two Lieutenants, who looked dead tired. “I know you have some post-flight details to follow-up on, but leave them to me if you will. I want you to both to head to your quarters for some food and high-quality sleep. You’re already three hours behind schedule and will have to leave early tomorrow afternoon for your next round of trials. So good night!”
Carter and Eaves gratefully accepted his offer and stumbled off to their cabins where they skipped the food and went straight to bed.
* * *
At 07:00 the next morning, Eaves made his way to the Recreation Deck, where he spent an hour water-skiing on the simulator. He loved skiing when the surface of the water was smooth as a highly-polished mirror, a phenomenon that occurred twice each day as the sun rose above the horizon and again when it set. The calming red-rock scenery of Colorado provided a needed diversion to the winter storms that occur on Kalenden. After that, he played racquetball for another hour, then took a leisurely shower and steam bath. By noon, he was famished, but chose to eat only a simulated seafood salad and fruit juice since he made it his policy to never eat anything heavy before flying.
Carter dealt with his nervous energy in a different way. He spent the morning reading a novel he’d put off for three months. It was an old Earth science-fiction novel that was a real scream to read some four hundred years after it was written. The ancient English grammar was sometimes difficult to interpret, but was the kind of challenge he enjoyed.
At 16:00, he met Eaves at the shuttle to review their flight plan and at 17:00 the small crew re-boarded. As it unfolded from its docking bay, Eaves strained to see signs of the damage from the previous day but found none, for O’Casey had his crew work all through the night to reinforce the robot welds and buff the exterior to a dazzling silver sheen. A maintenance man whispered that O’Casey had even unfolded it in the middle of the night and ran a second pressure check on the structure, including the passenger compartment. So, barring any new threats, they were in great shape mechanically.
I wish the same could be said about the weather, thought Eaves. The forecast for Wednesday showed gale warnings. Two shuttles had already washed out of the competition by either forfeiture or getting so far off course, they couldn’t complete their drills.
“Jason, I think we’re going to need our modifications. Can you configure the computer to make the necessary adjustments to the membranes?”
“I’ve already stored the program, so I can initiate it immediately. And, I’ve noticed you don’t give a person a lot of warning when you need something.”
“I always intend to do better, but then life throws me the equivalent of a random. Sorry about that.”
Only two-thirds of their scheduled passengers boarded, all a bit nervous. There were no further incidents since their encounter the previous day, but the risk of another attack was enough to frighten some of them into taking the high-speed shuttle back with O’Casey. Still, the stewards did their best to reassure those who did board and made them as comfortable as possible.
Separation from the Allegro was always an impressive sight. As large as the shuttle was, it was dwarfed by the massive hulk of the battle-cruiser and at the moment of separation, the morning star splashed the alinite hull with a brilliant crimson reflection that increased the ship’s grandeur. The planet’s atmosphere radiated an iridescent golden glow that also illuminated the natural skylights of the shuttle. It produced a good omen for the trip ahead.
As they drifted into the lower atmosphere, they hadn’t yet encountered their second random and Carter had convinced himself that Flight Control was going to count the terrorist attack in lieu of another random. That’s when all onboard power failed, causing a sickening lurch as the shuttle began dropping uncontrolled to the planet below. At 300,000 meters, the only thing to do was to let the ship drift, leaf-like, back and forth in the atmosphere. There was no danger at this point, but it did make some of the crew and passengers a bit nauseous. Eaves instructed the crew to manually unfurl several large sails that slowed their descent even further. Then he made his way back to engineering.
“Is this a real emergency or a random?” he asked Sergeant Price.
“I’m not supposed to tell you until you figure it out, but after yesterday, you deserve to know it’s a random.”
“Good, I’m not up for anything too serious. Let’s figure why the system failed, so we can program in a correction and regain power.”
It took about fifteen minutes to isolate the computer-generated problem. The cold fusion rod was supposed to have slipped from its mount inside the reactor because of some earlier turbulence. Using a robotic arm, Sergeant Price was able to re-establish the connection and full lighting and power replaced the puny emergency lighting of the previous half-hour. Through the intercom system they could hear the passengers applaud.
Returning to the bridge, he turned to Carter as he settled into his seat, “See, I’m not always a jinx!”
They prepared for the storms now just 100,000 meters below. The sails were furled, all unoccupied compartments were folded in to increase structural integrity and non-essential systems idled so that maximum power could be directed to the anti-gravity-membranes. Then there was nothing to do but wait.
Their flight plan called for an approach up the East River until they were even with Sixty-Seventh Street, then drift over the Upper East Side until they reached their assigned landing pad in Central Park. The problem with this approach were the high winds blowing from the southeast and they would have to pass over the observation buildings, meaning they’d have to come in higher than usual, with greater exposure to the wind. One wrong move could prove very embarrassing. At 09:30, they were being buffeted mercilessly, although Eaves was able to keep most of the movement to the outer edges. The passengers had acceded to his request that they buckle their lap and shoulder belts, although that was a seldom used precaution on shuttle trips. Of course, most shuttles would simply not fly on a day like this, or choose an alternate landing point several hundred kilometers to the west.
At 09:50 they successfully fought their way up the river and started their drift eastward. With no forward motion to steady them, the ship began to warp violently, creating the real risk that a sudden downdraft might pull them into the buildings below.
“Time for Phase I modification,” said Eaves. This time he received absolutely no static from anyone. They were all scared witless and ready to do anything to stabilize the ship. Carter punched in a series of commands to his computer and the systems’ monitor immediately reorganized itself from the standard four control zones on upper and lower membrane into twelve. That meant Eaves could now use twenty-four anti-gravity-membrane zones to respond to changes in the air pressure above and below the ship. Such a thing had never been tried before and the communications panel immediately lit up with hails from ground control asking what was going on.
“Carter,
you tell them what they need to know” Eaves voice betrayed the strain he was under. “I need full concentration to manage all this.” His face was buried in his main video monitor, which was programmed to display the air currents passing around the ship. He used a second monitor to control twenty-four virtual joysticks that controlled each one of the membrane panels. At first the ship bucked even more violently than before the reorientation and there was the sound of dinner plates crashing to the floor in the galley behind them. Then slowly, but surely, Eaves found the rhythm of the wind and acted in harmony with it. Instead of huge, lurching motions that threatened to tip the ship on its side, it undulated evenly in the breeze, with the air currents moving across it like a wave through water. Even though the winds were nearly hurricane force on the ground, the passenger cabin stabilized to where it was almost motionless. More confident than before, he moved the shuttle to the proper position above their landing pad and began his final descent. Now nearly full power was being channeled to the port membranes to resist the wind coming at them from starboard. Ever so slowly the giant ship settled towards the ground as Eaves’ hands flashed madly, controlling drift and descent. At 10:06, just fifteen minutes after their scheduled arrival, the ship was about to land.
“Steady, steady, There!” Eaves yelled exultantly, as he released the final energy.
“What’s that,” Carter replied.
“What?”
“Look, Travis, the main observation building has torn free from its mooring cables and is headed straight for us!”
They felt the giant landing paws touch, but immediately Eaves shoved the lift controls forward to rise as quickly as possible. That close to the ground, the greater than 100% humidity in the air gave them incredible lift and the vehicle shot up like a rocket.
Eaves quickly illuminated his side view panel to see what was happening to the observation building (which was shaped like the whimsical Guggenheim Museum). It was still tethered by a single mooring cable, but clearly could not hold for long. The anti-gravity-membrane on the observation platform was programmed for only repulsion from the ground, since gravity was used to lower it onto its foundation. There was no way the pilot of the platform could resist the force of the wind and re-land it. Just as Eaves feared, the final cable snapped and the giant platform began a tumble to the west, directly through the Park.
Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials Page 22