The party was short lived. Alexis demanded a nap and Ellie, Mike, and Jake were anxious to see what George had up his sleeves for them. They went back to work.
George reconfigured Resolve into a flight simulator, allowing them to experience the new duties they would have when under way. Their first simulation taught them to move the ship underwater, but they quickly graduated to the real thing: space. They commanded Resolve to simulate orbiting Earth, then planned and executed a flight plan that took them out beyond the inner planets to where it would be safe to execute a jump.
Travel between the stars took place in three phases. Phase one required a ship to travel outward through a star’s system until reaching a safe jump point, usually several weeks of travel at normal speeds. Jumps attempted any closer to the primary star or other strong gravity wells such as planets and large moons could be disastrous, at the very least erratic and unpredictable. Jump physics caused a ship to seek strong gravity wells, bending the ship’s desired course toward those gravity wells. The result was that jumps could, and often had before these simple rules were established, proven fatal.
Phase two required jumps through hyperspace, and not just one or two jumps. Long jumps simply were not accurate; strong gravity wells continued to act upon the ship as it progressed through its jump. The process required a series of comparatively small jumps that were time consuming and technically demanding to set up.
A number of calculations came into play in resolving a jump computation: the ship needed to know where it would be at the beginning of the jump; it had to navigate to that point, establishing proper aim and speed prior to arrival; determine the jump ending coordinates; compute the power output and duration to get there; do its best to calculate the effects of gravity wells that would affect it during the jump; and execute the jump at precisely the correct instant, then monitor everything as the jump progressed.
Phase three was similar to phase one. The ship came out of hyperspace at the extremities of the destination solar system and completed the trip with a few weeks of travel at normal speeds.
George took care of all these things. A number of different computers came into play, George directing them like a conductor directing a symphony orchestra. All Jake had to do was tell George where they wanted to go. But blindly allowing George to fly the ship, as Jornell and Wooldroo had, was what had brought them to Earth in the first place. Something was wrong with the system, something in either George’s programming or the computers he directed. Had regular pilots been available, they might not have ended up here. Regular pilots were trained and expected to double-check jump calculations when time permitted. The lesson had been learned far back in the infancy of space travel, usually the hard way, and Mike, Jake, and Ellie would not put all their eggs in one basket ever again. They would take the time and learn how to confirm George’s calculations.
He guided the team through jump after jump until they had the process down, then he had them do it again individually. None of them excelled at the tedious process, but to everyone’s surprise, Mike proved to be the most persistent at directing the various computers accurately. George was marginally satisfied with his performance. Jake and Ellie would have to specialize in other areas.
The first time George threw a simulated Chessori attack at them, the team was completely caught off guard. The ship was destroyed before they even recognized they were under attack. Thereafter, George taught them how to monitor other parameters to ensure that no one sneaked up on them.
Weapons lessons began in earnest, all in simulation. George provided the attack scenarios, and the team learned to interpret them, determine tactical responses, use the onboard weapons whenever running away was not possible, and monitor Resolve’s well-being during the process.
Their only weapons consisted of four laser-disintegrator systems, each of which was driven individually. A laser lit up the target and tracked it, then the disintegrator fired immensely powerful particle beams along the laser-aiming beam. Each weapon could shoot twice per second, so a total of eight shots per second could be sustained. Located two in the top and two in the bottom of the saucer-shaped ship, the weapons could be operated manually, if necessary, or through interface with George.
But enemy ships did not approach on smooth trajectories. Ships’ drives permitted instant acceleration in any direction, and targets danced all over the sky. Despite this movement, attacking ships had to hold to some semblance of trajectory or they would not approach their target, and careful but fast analysis by George provided a predicted trajectory. Gunners applied intuition and luck to light up the target. As soon as a lock occurred, the disintegrator beam could be fired. It all happened quickly, and Resolve, too, was dancing all over the sky to prevent lock-on by the enemy lasers. It was a difficult process to master, and they worked hard at it.
Under normal circumstances the bridge crew consisted of one pilot, two pilots when jump computations were in process, one engineering/communications officer, and a watch commander, with the captain joining at his/her discretion. During critical times all were plugged-in to George. During battle stations four gunners supplemented the bridge crew, one manning each weapon, and a gunnery control officer guided their efforts. At least one engineering specialist, and often two, supervised repairs during battle. A normal tactical crew therefore consisted of ten individuals, all plugged-in to George. Therein lay the challenge: their team had only themselves, and although they counted as three when in the net, they were nowhere near the ten needed. Nor was there a relief crew. They would be in space twenty-four hours each day. Demands upon their time would never cease.
George never let up. Before long they grew exhausted and disheartened. They simply could not plan strategies, oversee Resolve’s movements, and control four weapons simultaneously. To further complicate matters, George, though eminently capable of managing Resolve’s normal systems, insisted they periodically keep an eye on the ship’s well-being. He constantly reminded them that space travel took place in a dangerous environment. If their ship failed them, all was lost. Periodically, whether in the midst of jump computations or under simulated attack, he threw distractions at them in the form of onboard problems, most often the result of battle damage. He insisted that care of Resolve never be left to chance.
After several days of frustrating effort, the crew got together for a conference. Nearly a month had passed since Mike had awoken to meet Jake, and they were nowhere near ready to go. They had to speed things up.
After heated discussion, they decided to split up the team, to focus each of them on one or two areas of specialization. Ellie immediately claimed weapons. She liked the challenge, she preferred working on problems with immediate results, and she was aggressive with the guns. No one disputed her claim. Otis, too, would be a gunner, operating one weapon manually from outside the net. His training as a Protector suited perfectly. He would double as engineering officer if repairs were needed.
Jake, naturally, would be the pilot and be in command of the ship, leaving Mike to man a weapon and double as engineer, but before anyone could state those obvious assignments, Jake called for a time-out. He and Mike held a private conference. Mike leaned back in the couch with his eyes closed. It was just the two of them.
>You have to be captain, Mike,< Jake demanded.
>Get out of here! You’re our captain. You have been all along.<
>I can’t be captain.<
>Why not?<
>Because I’m a Rider. Riders ride, they don’t control. And there’s something you’ve all forgotten.<
>What?<
>The Chessori mind weapon. I’m not immune. If we encounter it, I’m going to be useless.<
Mike started to protest, then paused. Jake was right. After just a little more thought, it got worse. >You’re spread throughout my body. You’re going to take me out with you.<
>Not if I can help it. I’m going to find a way to isolate myself from you, but when I do I won’t be any help to you, and I’ll def
initely be out of the net. Otis manages with sheer willpower. I will just have to do the same. Wooldroo’s memories of this mind weapon are vivid. Quite frankly, I’m terrified.<
>I’m really sorry for you, Jake. I saw what it did to Ellie and Jornell. Maybe my immunity will transfer to you.<
>Are you willing to risk the ship to find out? I’m not.<
>No. You’re right.< Mike paused to think, trying to come up with a better solution, but he could not. >This thing doesn’t affect George, does it?<
>No, it doesn’t.<
>This is not the way to protect the Heir, Jake. We’re crazy trying to leave the planet. Why not just stay here until reinforcements arrive?<
>What reinforcements? No one knows where we are. I doubt if anyone even knows we’re still alive.<
>So you want me to fly the ship, huh?<
>I do. Admit it - you’re the best pilot aboard, and more important, you’re a good decision maker. Our performance is always best when you’re calling the shots.<
>I never signed on for this. What if I run us into a black hole or something?<
>You know George won’t let you. If he could make such a decision, he would agree that you should be our captain. I’m certain Daughter will agree, as well.
>No way!<
>Trust me. We’re now into politics where I’m the expert. Suck it up, Mike. Be in command. You are in command.<
Mike stood up and paced for a time. When he looked to Ellie, she was leaning forward, almost as if she anticipated his words.
“Jake thinks I should be our captain,” he said softly.
Ellie sank back into the chair with her eyes closed, clasping her hands together over her heart. “Thank you, Jake,” she breathed. Otis let out a roar. Mike looked at him, startled, then turned back to Ellie. She instantly tensed. “I told you weeks ago that you were the right person for us. I sensed it immediately in the net, and I have sensed it with my special skills, as well. Jake’s skills will be needed later. So, do we call you Captain Mike, or do you prefer Captain Carver?”
“Uh . . .”
“And don’t forget, I still own the ship. I choose where we go and when we go. Your responsibility is to get us there in one piece. Let’s get back to work.”
“Wait! I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“Since when did I need your agreement on anything?” she stated, rising to her feet with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
They tried the new arrangement immediately. Jake, by default, would fill in where needed, either with guns, backing up George as engineer, or assisting Mike with navigation. Otis stationed himself at his gun in the upper turret, surrounded by targeting computers and gun controls. The rest of the team, though physically sprawled around the bridge, was hard at work in the net.
George wasted no time, sending four Chessori fighters at them. Otis proved his worth, warming up quickly and demonstrating his natural talent. Ellie, as usual, became overwhelmed as she targeted three weapons. Jake raced to help in the midst of the crisis, but George threw a hull breach at them. With air pressure dropping, Jake was forced to drop everything else while he sealed off the leaking section, a job George could have done if he’d chosen to.
Mike raced in to help but was no longer needed. Ellie had gotten creative, slaving her three guns together to focus on one target at a time. While giving up versatility, she gained a more powerful weapon since she sent three shots in place of one. Her hit ratio improved dramatically, and she whooped with glee.
Though operating independently, they still functioned as a team, encouraging and supporting as time permitted, helping each other when someone got overloaded, and congratulating each other on the rare occasions that George let up.
Mike suspected that their efforts, though the best they could hope to achieve, were probably not enough. He knew that ultimately the only good defense was a good offense, but against more than two or three ships, they were totally on the defensive. And if these Chessori, or the traitors who assisted them, continued to stay one step ahead of them, as they had already proven they could, their best efforts were likely to fail.
To do this right, they needed more ships, lots of them. At the very least, though, this ship badly needed more crew, at least one more person. The one insurmountable problem George threw at them was damage repairs that required someone to leave the bridge. There were times when someone actually had to go fix something. Mike had his hands full, Ellie didn’t have a clue how to fix things, and Jake, though independent when in the net, couldn’t go anywhere without Mike. That left only Otis, but they needed him on his gun.
They needed one more body, a gunner who could leave to fix things, but there was no one else. Mike tried to cajole George into helping, but George’s most fundamental programming specifically prohibited him from activating any weapons at living targets. Once they got underway, George would be out of his training mode and on ‘their side’ again. He could take over Jake’s engineering duties, allowing Jake to man a gun, but they were still short a body to make repairs. Unfortunately, what they had now was as good as it was going to get.
They were as ready to go as George could make them. They just had to take care of the comparatively minor problem of fixing the ship. Resolve had come to Earth in spite of instructions from Jornell and George to the contrary. Someone had fiddled with the navigation computer, and the whole thing had been part of a plan. Whose plan, they did not know, and discovering the answer to that question was high on their list of priorities. That the Chessori had been involved was obvious, but someone from the Empire had to have done the actual work.
Mike, considering what he knew about castle intrigues from history books, knew only that things could get very, very complicated. If someone was after the Heir, wouldn’t they also be after the king, or queen, or emperor, or whoever led this empire? With just a little more speculation, the thought that the Heir might suddenly be much more than heir, that she might already be Queen, stunned Mike. And just a child!
Fixing Resolve was Jake’s problem. Had the virus been recognizable to George, it would never have been accepted, which meant it had been inserted into an area of programming George was not permitted to access. Jornell had fully intended to look into the problem, but he had never found the opportunity. Had enough of Wooldroo’s knowledge been transferred to Jake?
Jake was itching to prove himself. He had, in fact, been considering the problem for some time. He went right to work, complaining all the while that he was still just a baby and how could they expect so much from him? Through Mike’s fingers he began querying the ship’s computers, working his way into the navigation computer. They spent the rest of the day scrolling through line after line of code. Mike’s eyes finally grew so heavy that they had to quit. Even Jake felt discouraged, and he remained quiet, allowing Mike to fall into an instant sleep.
They got an early start the next morning, working straight through breakfast and up to lunch, still without result. By lunchtime Mike was fading fast, much faster than he should have, considering how exciting everything was. He mentioned it to Jake as they rode the central shaft down to the lounge, and Jake guiltily replied that some of it was his fault. He was a high-energy consumer. Mike was going to have to eat regular meals and eat much more than he was accustomed to eating.
>You mean I don’t have to worry about getting fat in my middle age?< he asked Jake over lunch while bouncing Alexis on his knee.
>Child’s play, Mike. You will not get fat. I will not allow your body to be unhealthy. About reaching middle age, I offer no guarantees.<
>How do you do it?<
>I just do it. You think of me as a blob of protoplasm in your leg, but Mike, I’m not like that. I’m distributed evenly throughout your body. I’m everywhere. My system automatically monitors everything going on in your body. You’ll never be sick again. I think you call it payback.<
>Well, look, I’ve been staying out of your way on the computer search, but I don’t think we’re gettin
g anywhere. Do you?<
>We have a long way to go. For a simple navigation computer, there’s an awful lot of code.<
>I would hope so. Navigating between the stars can’t be simple, but we’ll never get done at this rate. We need to attack the problem from a different direction. Can we get the computers to help us in our search?<
>Hmm. Computers were not an item of great interest to Wooldroo, but he may have passed information on to me that I haven’t fully considered. Let me think on this.<
>I use computers a lot in my work, Jake. I know everyone around here thinks I’m a throwback, a Neanderthal, but I’m a respected engineer on Earth, and I’m no idiot when it comes to this stuff. Heck, physics is physics. Computers can only work so many different ways.<
>I’m sorry you feel that way, Mike. I have never thought you were an idiot, though as you suggest, I have not considered all your talents.<
>I thought you could read my mind.<
>I try not to. I’ve had to pry in some areas, to learn your language for example, but I try hard not to pry deeper than necessary without your approval. Just as I would hope you do not pry unnecessarily into my mind.<
>I can’t read your thoughts at all, Jake. Not outside the net, anyway.<
>Maybe not yet, but you will. In fact, you already are to a small extent. You sense my feelings much of the time. I don’t know exactly what, if any, limitations we will end up with.<
That quieted Mike for a time. This whole arrangement was so alien to him that he was really off balance trying to evaluate it. In fact, he sort of shied away from all thought of it.
Jake left him for a time. Mike suspected he was deep in his own thoughts, and he was right. When they returned to the bridge, Jake was ready with a new plan of attack. The sabotage was probably limited, not extensive, or it would have been detected by the test routines constantly run by the computers themselves. He asked the computer to list all programming changes smaller than a certain size, sorting by date. He also ran a search for substitution routines, a type of program most likely to be the culprit in sending the ship to the wrong place.
Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One) Page 9