Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials

by Jerry Borrowman

  Of course the message also instantly alerted everyone to the fact that he was an infiltrator who really was on the side of the Unified Governing Coalition. That would please some people and aggravate others. The people it aggravated the most happened to be standing in the room with him just at the very moment. When the general spied the probe he lunged from across the room, knocking both Magill and the pretender down as he screamed at Magill. But it was too late and the general knew it.

  “So, in reality you are a spy—one of Lansing’s puppets as everyone supposed!” shouted the general, as he stood up, furious. Then, seeing Sean lying at his feet he stomped on his right foot, which caused the most intense pain Sean had ever felt. The wounds were already bad enough without this. “I’ll kill you for this you bloody little fool!” shouted the general, pointing an impact weapon at Magill. And that was the last thing Sean heard before passing out.

  The general would have been right about Sean dying, had it not been for one of the Loyalist guards in the room who had actually believed that the boy was a royal relative. The moment he saw the headline, recognized that the general had deceived them, and was now about to shoot Magill, the guard simply shot the general before he could kill Sean. The uprising ended even more quickly than it began.

  Reflecting on the sequence of events later Magill concluded, “There’s nothing more dangerous in the universe than a disillusioned idealist.” In this case it was a disillusioned, but well principled guard, who saved his life.

  * * *

  “So you used me?” The woman’s voice was just as silky smooth as when he’d met her in the bar.

  “I didn’t use you. Everything I said was true. And I asked you not to print it.”

  “But you knew I would.”

  “I thought you might.”

  She bit her lip. “But if it’s true, why didn’t you stand by your convictions and assist the insurgency? If all those horrible things happened after revolutions on ancient Earth, are we not in danger of the same thing now?”

  Magill inhaled. “Is this on the record?”

  She seemed surprised. “Not if you don’t want it to be.”

  “No—I do want it to be. I want everyone to hear what I say now because it’s essential that they have confidence in Prime Minister Lansing.”

  She nodded. “Alright—it’s on the record.”

  “I mentioned the failures—but not the successes. The United States is an example of a revolution that changed the history of mankind. The new government formed after the Revolutionary War became a light on the hill for democratic movements for hundreds of years. The revolution in France was bloody, but ultimately led to a successful and enduring democracy. And while England kept their monarch, it was only as a symbol of the state as they became a successful constitutional monarchy. Even Germany after Hitler—kind of the worst example, went on to develop democracy. And everyone knows how the Middle East, at one time a source of great contention, eventually prospered. So the examples of success far outweigh the negative examples I gave.”

  “So you said what you did just so you could get inside the uprising to prove that the claim of royalty was false.”

  Sean nodded. “That’s exactly why I did it.”

  “But what if you’d been wrong? What if he really was royal.”

  Magill smiled. “Then I’d have had to think of something else. But it just didn’t ring true—someone like that would have known long before now that he had royal connections. For him to show up at such a convenient time made no sense, so I placed my bet on the fact that he was a phony.”

  He looked down. “At any rate, I’m sorry if you felt deceived, and I’m sorry that sincere Loyalists were troubled by what I said. But I really do believe the Unified Governing Coalition is the best hope for Keswick. If I were a betting man, I’d wager that PM Lansing will lead this country on to a very bright future.”

  The young woman turned to her recorder so that her face was highlighted in the camera. “And there you have it—from the Hero of Cambriol himself—Lieutenant Commander Sean Magill, explaining why he helped end the uprising.”

  Sean took a deep breath to steady his hands. It had been a very trying week. And his feet really hurt.

  15– A Problem at the Helm

  “Too bad about the disqualification of your ship in the trials.” Kensington taunted Jesik as they walked down the hall. “But I’m sure you recognize the wisdom of my intervention. We have to maintain integrity in everything we do or the service becomes soft and sloppy.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  “Still,” said Kensington amiably, “events turned out well for the fleet that night. I was pleased that so many people acknowledged my original decision to let your team compete.”

  Jesik swallowed hard, continued walking. Fortunately, one didn’t have to say much in a conversation with Kensington. In fact, it was difficult to find an opening to say anything. Still, Kensington had seemed in unusually good spirits the previous six weeks that he’d been onboard and hadn’t intervened in any way, other than to occasionally reprimand a crewmember for a sloppy uniform or salute. Luckily, the incident with Sean Magill was over before Kensington even became aware of it, and when he did he simply deplored the use of espionage, but didn’t really take issue with the outcome. If he continued like this the voyage might be bearable after all.

  One thing Jesik did that pleased Kensington was to ask if he would preside over Sabbath services. Even though Kalenden’s orbit precluded a day titled Sunday, the tradition of observing religious ceremonies continued to bear that name – a carryover from ancient Earth that had been preserved by early Kalenden colonists. In spite of his pomp and bluster, Kensington could deliver a spellbinding sermon and had actually increased attendance at the services. Though his philosophies were a bit extreme from Jesik’s point-of-view, Kensington made a powerful case for adhering to fidelity, sacrifice, and self-denial. Perhaps he had missed his calling and should have stood behind a regular pulpit.

  As Kensington turned to enter his quarters, Jesik heard him mutter the now ubiquitous line that popped up in so many conversations, “The first Ambassador to Alturus in more than two hundred years. A great honor, yes, but an even greater responsibility.” Modesty was still not a virtue Colonel Kensington had explored.

  Jesik believed in an open, cordial atmosphere on the bridge, except during military exercises or a hostile engagement when reporting protocol was strictly observed to prevent distractions or confusion. But during routine patrols it was acceptable for crewmembers to talk quietly with one another. So, it wasn’t surprising when he appeared on the bridge to hear light-hearted banter between the Helmsman and other bridge personnel and to see Brighton in heavy conversation with the Communications Officer. He overheard the phrase “Auburn Hills,” which immediately told him the discussion was about Williams’ favorite professional soccer team and their recent loss at the Quadrant Invitational. No wonder Williams looked so somber.

  “Captain on the Bridge!”

  All officers acknowledged Jesik’s entry by a nod in his direction.

  “As you were.” Taking his seat, Jesik noticed that, in spite of his tolerant attitude, the conversations now focused on a scheduled shutdown of the main communications array for routine maintenance and testing.

  Lieutenant Wight and the current navigator were reviewing the Fleet’s various escape maneuvers on their monitors, quietly debating the merits of each, trying to come up with their own variations to recommend to the Captain during the next drills. Since the Allegro’s military engagements on Keswick, the crew had come to view these drills as significant, rather than theoretical exercises. The effect on motivation was pronounced. Working through complex evasion patterns wasn’t usually humorous, yet Lieutenant Wight and the navigator suddenly burst out laughing. Jesik bit his lower lip and looked stern as they apologized for their outburst. They returned to their conversation in more subdued voices, but continued to enjoy the chance to relive the Allegro’s
recent battles.

  For a moment Jesik felt a yearning for simpler days, when he served at the helm. Back then every waking thought and motion had been directed toward becoming noticed and moving up the ladder of command. Why was I in such a hurry to leave a post that gave operational control of a powerful star ship without having to worry about strategy and whether a decision will take advantage of our opponents’ weakness or cause our own destruction?

  “Mr. Brighton, do you have a moment to review one of our strategies?” Wight’s voice had an innocence about it that immediately involved everyone within hearing. His earnest tone made even the most trivial request sound important. His questions were always delivered with such an absolute lack of self-importance that a person couldn’t attribute any self-serving motives to what he said. Jesik liked the young man. In fact everyone liked Wight. At six feet even, with a slender, athletic build, he moved with unusual grace—more like a professional gymnast than the aggressive jaunt of a typical junior officer. He was unusually handsome, with deep blue-eyes and dark-brown hair that undoubtedly held special appeal to the young women in his life.

  Of course I’m biased. Kevin’s mother was a most uncommonly beautiful woman with eyes as deep as a brooding sapphire…

  “You’ve got to be kidding, Lieutenant!” Brighton laughed. “How on earth do you think the starboard stabilizers could stay attached to the ship if you executed a banking maneuver at that angle?”

  Wight laughed back, his smile animating his face as he launched into his counter-attack as to why the ship would actually welcome such a move over the Academy’s preferred maneuver. The intelligence of his response was confirmed by Brighton’s furrowed brow and positive nod.

  Jesik was grateful for the distraction. After two decades I can’t afford to start thinking about Helen, again. He sighed, because that meant he was already thinking about her. It probably would have been better if Wight had never been assigned to the crew. But, even as he thought that, he knew that wasn’t true. He loved having the young man on the ship, even though he knew nothing about Jesik and his mother. Kevin brought her closer to him.

  The port transport tube opened with a swishing sound, its light flooding into the more subdued illumination of the bridge. Lieutenant Eaves strode onto the bridge and proceeded confidently to the weapons array.

  Jesik glanced around the room and noticed that everyone had turned to follow Eaves, hardly the usual reaction to a Lieutenant’s comings and goings. But his obvious panache in the shuttlecraft competition added more luster to his reputation and no one’s stock rode higher with the crew.

  Eaves was a puzzle. On one hand he was supremely self-confident, so it was easy to assume he was arrogant. Yet, he never pressed for preferential treatment and the reports of his design work were outstanding, which meant that in addition to his natural skill as a pilot there was a good chance he’d go back to school to train as an engineer once his active duty was complete.

  Looking up, Jesik became aware that Brighton’s conversation with Wight was coming to a rather subdued end. Whereas moments before they’d been laughing and arguing cheerfully, Wight’s entire demeanor had changed dramatically, and his face looked flushed.

  “Thank you Commander,” said Wight, rather stiffly, “Perhaps the Academy was right after all.” Brighton stared at him, puzzled, but wasn’t the kind to worry about a Lieutenant’s tone of voice, so he moved back to Communications to resume his former conversation.

  Jesik shook his head. What in the world causes such a mood swing? It was no longer personal – the helm required someone who could stay focused in spite of outside distractions or irritations. Despite his usually bright temperament, Jesik had observed mood changes by Wight on a few other occasions. He’d be smiling one moment, then suddenly turn cold. It was like a thundercloud moving in to ruin an afternoon picnic.

  Piloting any kind of vehicle in space presented an unusual set of challenges – far different than those encountered with land or atmosphere based craft. In air or water pilots use the natural resistance of the medium to control turns, acceleration, and braking. Outer space presents a whole new challenge. There is no resistance – nothing to bank against or use to execute your turn. Early deep-space astronauts found there were only three ways to maneuver in the vacuum of space – use a complex array of internal thrusters, skip off a planet’s atmosphere, or use the gravity of a nearby star or planet. Modern space travel requires a ship to use a combination of the three. Even the vortex drive was but a method of combining gravitational effects of at least three celestial objects to create a whirlpool in space – a shortcut, as it were, from one place to the other. Finding the center of the vortex was critical to avoid having the ship torn apart by competing gravitational waves. That’s why the Helmsman has to be both agile and focused.

  “Do you remember the first time I was assigned to bring a cruiser into planetary orbit?” Jesik asked his yeoman, Sergeant Darcy.

  “Remember it! I thought it would be the last thing I remembered. Your angle of descent damn near burned the ceramic heat tiles right off the hull!”

  “Glad to know I’m still famous. But the depressive thrusters burned hot that day. The follow-up investigation showed it.”

  “All I know, Sir, is that I remember thinking at the time that if we lived through the experience, I hoped you’d be posted to a fine ship, a long ways away from me.” That was twenty-three years ago and Darcy had served with Jesik on every assignment since.

  Jesik smiled, but remained silent. Darcy glanced over at Wight. “Turned a bit quiet, didn’t he Sir?”

  “What? Oh, yes, I suppose he did. What do you make of it?”

  “He’s hard to know. On the outside, everything about him is open for discussion. He’s popular in the wardroom, not as loud as most of the others. Still, he carries on his fair share of the conversation. But then he goes quiet, with no warning, and it’s like he’s a million kilometers away. I think there’s a part of him he’s never spoken about – like a pocket of uncharted space.”

  When Jesik didn’t respond Darcy added, “I think it must have something to do with women. They’re usually the trouble with the young men.”

  “Women? That’s probably as good an explanation as any.” Jesik had heard everything he needed to. “Well, just as long as he doesn’t freeze in battle, he can worry about whatever he likes. And, there’s nothing better to think about than a girl.”

  Wight looked up at Jesik just in time to catch his eye. Jesik nodded slightly.

  Oh, no, thought Wight, he’s been looking at me. He must have seen my face flush. Everybody must have seen it. They must suspect!

  Just then Lieutenant Eaves saluted the Officer of the Day and exited the bridge. Wight held his gaze steady, not looking at Eaves as departed.

  Why do I have these thoughts? His stomach churned and he wondered if he was going to throw up. Oh, dear God, please help me to not feel this way. He looked up at the main viewer desperately. No one else in a thousand parsecs of outer space thinks like this – why do I?

  The original Kalenden colonizers had been utopians who felt that with a firm grip on ancient values, they could create a society free of the liberal vices that tormented Earth in 2238 A.D.. They felt the basic family structure was threatened. People used so many pharmaceuticals that real personalities had long since disappeared and virtually nothing was considered right and wrong by the majority. Each person determined his or her own morality and no one else had the right to question it. This was anathema to the fundamentalists, who yearned for more certitude and structure.

  With the invention of the vortex drive, it became practical for colonies of like-minded individuals to strike out to a distant space quadrant and create their own society, regulated as they wished. God-fearing people who shunned socially liberalized human interactions first colonized Alturus, before the great rift between the major families caused a second exodus to Keswick and Kalenden. All three societies remained socially conservative, however, in c
ontrast to Stirium and Tatrius. That’s why Brighton was at such risk with this out-of-wedlock pregnancy. For more than two hundred years, there had been careful monitoring of genetic stock to be sure that unwanted human weaknesses had been bred out of the society, including attraction to a member of one’s own gender. Even though accepted as normal by most societies on earth, those ‘deviancies’ had been effectively eliminated in the fundamentalist societies.

  Wight deftly executed a course correction of less than one degree to starboard. For a starship 800 meters long and with a 500 meter beam, that wasn’t much. But, in the vastness of space, that tiny correction meant they’d miss the Routienne Star System by more than 276,000 kilometers, rather than crashing directly into the star.

  Once he’d finished verifying the correction with the navigator, he returned to his thoughts, desperately trying to erase the image of Eaves’ walk onto the bridge from his mind. But the tight cut of Eaves’ uniform and open collar of his shirt was hard to dismiss. A few days earlier, he’d stumbled into Eaves exiting the shower. It meant nothing to Eaves, but the experience simply refused to stay out of Wight’s thoughts. It had been the most erotic experience of his life as well as the most horrifying. Why can’t I feel that way about women? he pleaded with himself.