by Jeff Sims
He replied, “John is/was a first class gamer. He spent all of his free time flying missions in the pilot simulator. He was ranked #24 in the world.” The engineer grimaced. He knew that Amy did not want to hear that piece of news.
Amy replied, “Is. We can’t write him or any of them off just yet.” She continued, “Why does it always have to be pilots that disappear.”
The top 20 ranked pilots disappeared. Then they reappeared. Then they disappeared a second time and took 20 more pilots with them. Now another top pilot disappeared along with 15 other random employees. She thought that the conspiracy theorists were going to have a field day with this news.
Amy’s workstation beeped and she saw an email arrive from Victor. “Good,” she said, “I just got an email from Victor. With luck, he has some information about the strange disappearance.” She opened the email and read it.
“Well?” The engineer asked.
Amy pulled the privacy screen off of her monitor and let the engineer read the email over her shoulder. He summarized, “That’s odd. Do they always leave at a moment’s notice?”
Amy shook her head and said, “No.” However, if he just sent the email, perhaps he is still in the building.”
Amy got up and walked to Victor’s office. She checked the door and discovered it was locked. She contacted security and told them to bring the master key.
The engineer joined her and said, “I just received a call from security. One of our transport trucks is missing.”
Amy: “Have you been able to find the security footage yet?”
Engineer: “Unfortunately, it was parked in an area with poor camera coverage. Whoever stole the truck may have selected that one on purpose. Fortunately, it is one of newer trucks and has GPS tracking installed. That means that we can track where it went…” The engineer stopped talking.
Amy grew impatient at the sudden lapse and asked, “Well, where did it go?”
The engineer made another call to security. A minute later he said, “It left here around 4:00 am, went about 2 miles southeast, sat there for an hour, and returned. Then it just disappeared around 8:40 am.”
Amy: “That cannot be a coincidence. I want you to find out where it went this morning and where it is now.”
The security guard opened the door and Amy entered. She half expected Crista to pop out of hiding and shoot her. Amy quickly verified the office was completely empty. She spotted the strange device laying on the floor beside the opposite wall.
The engineer approached, found a button, and pressed it. The electro cart activated. It gently raised up and began hovering 1 meter (about 3 feet) off of the floor. Amy walked over and pressed down on it. The cart briefly moved down, but then stabilized and pushed back up to its normal position.
Amy walked around the cart several times. The engineer crawled under it and then sat on it. In each case, the cart remained perfectly still and continued to hover at the exact same height. The engineer found the touchscreen and activated it.
Now Amy looked over his shoulder. She said, “Well, it appears Victor has invented something new. A hover cart.”
The engineer started reading the manual. He replied, “Yes. Victor Tyrano is an absolute genius. This technology is groundbreaking. It is possibly better than the new computer chips and the super heating/cooling units.”
“Why?” Amy asked.
The engineer responded: “Hysteresis.”
Amy gave the engineer a blank, expressionless look. This was her method of asking for a clarification. The engineer saw Amy’s look and quickly responded, “Hysteresis can refer to magnetic, physical, or rate dependent changes in ferromagnetic and ferroelectric materials.”
Amy maintained her expressionless expression. If anything, it became less expressionless than it was a moment ago.
The engineer continued, “Hysteresis is generally referred to as a property’s memory of stresses imparted to it.” He paused, checked Amy’s face, and continued, “Think of a rubber band that is stretched. You pull it back, release, and it returns to almost its original size. However, if you stretch it enough times it becomes deformed.”
Amy replied, “Well, how does that apply here.”
The engineer replied, “It doesn’t.” He received an expression that time. However, it wasn’t a good one.
Realizing that he was wasting her time, the engineer continued, “In electronics hysteresis refers to a circuit’s ability to remember its previous state. Further, all electromagnetic forces have a dynamic lag when they change state. This cart seems to both remember its previous state and anticipate its next, causing its hysteresis to be virtually non-existent.”
Amy stopped him and said, “Summarize, simply.”
The engineer replied, “This power generator is a miniaturized, working copy of the power generator in the video game and this hover capability is basically an electro lift from the game. This cart proves that both technologies are possible and are commercially viable. If we can figure out how it works, we can put this technology in just about everything.”
Amy smiled.
Chapter 8
Really Supreme Admiral Fruid’la’s ground car arrived at the military spaceport and he exited the vehicle the moment it stopped. He didn’t acknowledge the driver during the entire 19 minute trip – why should he? The driver was a private and a reservist. If there were anyone that was beneath his notice, it was this driver. And Fruid’la looked at him several times to make sure that the driver knew that he wasn’t being noticed.
The military spaceport was essentially just a large clearing in an otherwise populated section of the planet’s capital city. The spaceport, for lack of a better term, was very small. As a result, only transport shuttles could land there. Further, there were no shops, restaurants, or hotels nearby.
This spaceport had one positive though that easily outweighed all of negatives; it was located very close to the High Council building. The main spaceport, by comparison, was on the far outskirts of the city. It took nearly two hours by ground car to reach the government building.
However, public transportation was considerably faster; one could travel on a hovertram from the spaceport to the High Council in one hour. However, high ranking military officers such as Fruid’la simply did not ride public transportation and certainly didn’t have 2 hours to waste in a ground vehicle.
So, a compromise was reached, a building or two was destroyed, and military personnel had a convenient, if small, spaceport that they could use when they were summoned to address the High Council. It was a win-win for everyone.
Fruid’la entered the transport and sat in the unoccupied seat in the front row. He looked over at the pilot. The pilot performed a truncated greeting and said, “Are you ready to go?”
This time Fruid’la did acknowledge his driver. The reason for the change was that this being was a member of his bridge crew; specifically the ship’s pilot. Fruid’la responded, “Yes, take me back to the space station.”
The pilot asked, “How did the council meeting go?”
Fruid’la responded, “Fine, they approved us to move to the next phase of the operation.”
The Hiriculan master plan was broken into several main phases. Admiral Fruid’la was aware of the three main ones. He figured that there were probably more and that the council was intentionally compartmentalizing so that no one but them knew the entire plan.
Fruid’la had lobbied for the phases to be named something other than phase 1, 2, etcetera. He had ballyhooed the names Next Phase and Phase Next. Unfortunately, the names hadn’t resonated with anyone.
He then tried Phase NeXt. He figured that adding a second capital letter to the name would give it the extra emphasis it needed to gain widespread acceptance. It didn’t. He also tried intentionally misspelling it with two x’s for emphasis. He thought that would be the masterstroke that would push the name into usage. It wasn’t, but that didn’t stop Fruid’la. He continued to use the word NeXXt whenever possible.
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The transport exited the atmosphere of the planet and slowly headed to a large spaceport hanging in geosynchronous orbit. The station was beautiful; truly an engineering marvel. It was only about half as big as the Spindle Station, but it was completely dedicated to one purpose – the Hiriculan Navy.
Specifically, the station served two primary purposes. It housed naval personnel that were not assigned to ships. This included leadership, logistics, engineering, research and development, and finance. The second purpose was a massive space dock. The dock was used for refurbishment and repair.
The station had the capability to build ships, but most new ships were built elsewhere. The stated reason was that the Navy didn’t want to dedicate a dock for entire length of time that it took to construct a warship. The real reason was that the Hiriculans believed that the Alliance was spying on them and really didn’t want them to be able to obtain an accurate count of their fleet.
Fruid’la could have simply parked his command carrier somewhere in the vicinity of the military station and taken one of his ship’s transports to the surface. However, he couldn’t do that because his command carrier had been blown into pieces by the Sunflower.
It still made him angry when he thought about that battle. All those people fighting and dying at his command and not one of them had the gumption to save his precious ship. Its loss was truly a shame.
The pilot landed the transport on the 18th level. This was the highest landing area on the station and was reserved for admiralty or very important guests. Admiral Fruid’la appreciated the pilot’s gesture, but would have preferred to land on a lower level.
Landing on this level meant that he would have to walk past the admiralty lounge on the way to the electro lift. He really didn’t want to see any other high ranking officials right now because he had nothing to say to them.
The other admirals, though, probably couldn’t wait to offer ‘suggestions’ and ‘advice’ on his latest military debacle. They would tell him how he should have been able to defeat one tiny cruiser, especially with a frigate, a command carrier, an asteroid ion cannon, and an entire captured Advranki fleet at his disposal.
Admiral Fruid’la kept his head down and walked as quickly as possible across deck 18. He really didn’t want to listen to his fellow officers’ barbs today. Soon enough, he thought. He whispered, “I will listen to them when I am absolute ruler. Then, then can kneel at my feet and speak platitudes about my ultimate victory.”
“Admiral Fruid’la,” came a rather high pitched and whiny voice from his side. “What a pleasure it is to see you so soon after your interview with the High Council. I trust everything went okay at the meeting.”
Fruid’la knew what the other being was truly saying. He was wondering how Fruid’la managed to retain his job after his abject failure in Hepitila, Trilon, and Influenla.
Fruid’la responded, “Admiral Lopeq’la, what a pleasure to see you. Again, thank you for the ride back to Hiricula.”
Lopeq’la said, “It was my pleasure. I had nothing better to do with my time.”
Fruid’la mentally finished “like transport prisoners back to Hiricula”. He responded, “Perhaps someday you will have the pleasure of facing the Sunflower in battle and succeed where I have failed.” His words, though polite on the surface, were dripping with sarcasm.
Lopeq’la replied, “I certainly couldn’t do worse.”
Fruid’la had continued walking during the entire conversation. He passed the admiralty and now reached the electro lift. He entered the electro lift and activated it. He didn’t turn around and face Lopeq’la or even attempt to perform the traditional goodbye ritual.
Fruid’la rode the electro lift down 4 levels and exited on the 14th level. This level was filled with transports and corvettes. It was the level where the majority of small cargo items were shipped and delivered. Further, nearly all of the small ship traffic entered and departed from here.
If his pilot had flown him directly to this level to begin with, Fruid’la could have avoided the embarrassment of the last conversation. He briefly wondered if the pilot had done it on purpose. He walked across the deck to an awaiting corvette. He walked up the gangway and entered the ship. His pilot followed him up the ramp.
Fruid’la motioned him to the control room. He said, “Set course to the rendezvous zone and leave as soon as you obtain clearance. I will be in my quarters and I do not want to be disturbed.”
He hated traveling through hyperspace in these tiny ships. He knew that it was only his imagination, but he felt cramped or perhaps even claustrophobic in them. He preferred riding in a large vessel, such as a battleship or even the aforementioned command carrier. However, this trip was only 70 minutes long so the effect wouldn’t last very long.
They were going to take a secret route to a secret location. Well, technically they were taking two secret routes, since the Alliance didn’t know that the Hiriculans had charted a route from Hiricula to Neto.
As a result, only a few ships were allowed to travel on the secret route. Further, these ships were dedicated to that route. If a ship traveled on either secret route, then traveled to Alliance territory, the ship’ transponder would automatically transmit the secret route to the navigational beacon and the Alliance would immediately learn of the new route.
The secret route from Hiricula to Neto was one of those taboo subjects like Neto breeding that most Hiriculans knew about, but none ever mentioned. Citizens reasoned that when the High Council wanted the Alliance to know of the new route they would inform them.
The pilot contacted Admiral Fruid’la and said, “We have reached the outer limits of the Hiriculan gravity well. Our course is set for Neto. We are traveling at .01 light. We will jump in 3, 2, 1, now.”
Fruid’la was furious. His ear stalks were raised to their highest level. He had specifically told the pilot that he did not want to be bothered. And if he were to be disturbed, it certainly wasn’t for something as trivial as acknowledging that they were about to jump into hyperspace.
Fruid’la got up off of the bed in his quarters and stormed toward the door. Just as he was about to activate the switch to open the door, he remembered that he had earlier given the pilot standing orders to inform him every time they were about to jump.
He thought for a moment. Did his new orders not to be disturbed counteract his standing orders to be informed when they were about to jump? He sighed and answered his own question. They did not. The pilot had acted correctly by informing him.
Fruid’la returned to the bed and tried to get some rest. However, he spent the next hour staring at the ceiling. He really wanted to leave the room and talk to the pilot or wander through the small ship, but he knew that he would look foolish after having told the pilot he didn’t want to be disturbed. And if there was one thing that Fruid’la did not want to do at this point it was to look silly.
Frustrated, he pulled his communication pad out of his carrier and studied the recent Alliance troop movement update. “Let’s see what they have been doing,” he said to the ceiling.
Fruid’la reviewed each system and said the number of fleets and ships.
“Opron, one corvette.”
“Conron, 2 fleets, 19 total warships.”
“Advranki Prime, 15 fleets, 108 total.”
“Advranki-2 and 3, 6 fleets, 42 ships each.”
“Solaria, one cruiser, one giant EMP.” That made him giggle for some reason.
“Altian system, information sketchy, but it is believed to be 16 fleets, 112 warships.”
“That makes 280 total, active warships available to the Alliance.”
Exactly 70 minutes into their scheduled 5 hour jump to Neto, the corvette exited hyperspace. The pilot reoriented the ship on a new heading roughly in the direction of Netron.
He said, “Admiral, we have completed the first leg of our jump. The next set of coordinates have been entered. We are maintaining .006 light and are jumping in 3, 2, 1, now.”
&n
bsp; Fourteen minutes later they exited hyperspace in the middle of nowhere. Well, by definition they were technically somewhere, but this particular section of the universe certainly felt like nowhere to the few beings unlucky enough to have stayed there for more than an hour.
There was nothing of interest here; no planets, no comets, no meteoroids, asteroids, or even cosmic dust. There was no light, nothing. It was completely dark all of the time. In summary, the area was an empty, black void of complete and utter nothingness.
The area was designated on the Hiriculan astronomical chart as P190-42.47, but Fruid’la tenderly thought of the area as Nirvana. He mentioned the name to several of his peers. Unfortunately, it was about as well received as his suggestion for the second phase of the High Council’s master plan. Most other Admirals simply referred to it as the Parking Lot.
Fruid’la exited his room and joined the pilot in the control room. He said, “Scan the area and display it on the control room monitor.”
The pilot performed the scan and reported, “We are in the middle of nowhere.”
The Admiral studied the scan that the pilot had just performed. Although this particular section of the cosmos was devoid of any natural objects, it wasn’t entirely empty. The scan did reveal something of interest in the immediate area.
The interesting object in the object was a Hiriculan battleship. It wasn’t under power or moving or even crewed. It was just eerily hanging there in space. There was another ship beside that one; and yet another one beside it.
The ships were lined up in perfect rows – row after row after row. Each row started with a battleship, followed by two destroyers or a combination of one destroyer and one frigate, and finally followed by four cruisers. Each row consisted of one battle group.
Fruid’la said, “I want to fly in a giant circle around the entire area.”
Admiral Fruid’la began counting battle groups. This was a fairly difficult task because the rows seemed to stretch on forever. Plus, the battle groups were stacked in rows vertically as well as horizontally. The volume of space encapsulated by the entire fleet was tremendous, but was still insignificant compared to the nothingness surrounding them.