Landfall: The Ship Series // Book One

by Jerry Aubin

  “You’re lucky I don’t kick the crap out of you, cadet, but I’m already late and now I have to go back to my berth for a new shirt.” The sergeant jabbed his finger two centimeters from Zax’s forehead. “Rest assured—I never forget a face.” He turned crisply and double-timed off leaving Zax and Kalare alone in the passageway.

  “So much for not calling attention to myself,” rued Zax as he slid into his now stained and sodden jacket.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you, Zax. And I’m super sorry I laughed.” Kalare appeared genuinely contrite as she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t about you tripping. I was laughing at the expression on the sergeant’s face when he started yelling at you. I thought he was having a stroke as quickly as his face changed color and as much as his eyes bulged out.” She beamed at him. “Let’s go find Mikedo before we get in anymore trouble.”

  It stung to once again be the source of her amusement, but the genuine warmth behind Kalare’s smile helped Zax find a little comfort in her attempt at commiseration. He let her lead the way and they entered the destination compartment a short time later. Zax forestalled any questions by immediately explaining his disheveled state to Mikedo.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. We were walking past a group of Flight cadets and someone tripped me. I knocked into a Marine sergeant who spilled coffee all over himself and the passageway. I had no choice but to use my jacket to clean up.”

  Mikedo gave a sympathetic smile, but then her expression became quizzical. “Why would anyone trip you?”

  Zax paused for a sec before he replied, “I don’t know.”

  Mikedo arched an eyebrow, but didn’t press further. “OK—it’s not important right now. Go ahead and take your jacket off while you’re in here. No sense sitting around in wet clothes when it’s just the three of us. Besides, you reek of coffee and it’s reminding me I’m going to need a cup soon.”

  Zax looked around. The Marine training compartment was a duplicate of the one where he had just taught the Gammas. He hung his jacket over a chair in the back and joined Kalare in the front row near the instructor’s podium.

  Mikedo perched herself on top of the table next to the lectern and folded her legs beneath her. “Room—leave the lights up and give me vid M4563-7211. I’m going to walk you two through a very high level overview of what will happen over the next few weeks.”

  The room displayed screencaps showing Marine cadets in various training scenes while Mikedo spoke. “Marine and Flight cadets start off living and learning together in the same Cadres so they will develop the same core knowledge. After graduation from Zeta and Epsilon, Marine and Flight cadets get separated into different Cadres so they can better focus and develop their specialties.

  “The first year of Marine training focuses on two areas. The first is physical capacity. It covers not only development of raw physical attributes such as strength and endurance, but also the acquisition of skills such as hand-to-hand combat.” Mikedo paused for a min while the screencaps showed cadets with gruesome injuries—bloodied faces, compound fractures—and even a few body bags mixed in. “These images reveal how their training is a lot more dangerous than the way we run things in Flight. We actually get the exact same combat training, but the Marines raise the intensity substantially and just accept there will be more injuries and far more than a few deaths.”

  Zax glanced at Kalare to gauge her reaction, but she stared intently at the screencaps as Mikedo continued.

  “The second area of focus is weapons training. This is where the dangerous stuff starts.” Mikedo reached behind the lectern and pulled out a weapon. “Marines are expected to be highly proficient with all manner of small arms, especially the standard issue blaster like the one I have here. They take great pride in reminding us how they can look an alien straight in the eye and kill up close while us Flight pukes only push buttons to launch missiles from high up in orbit.” Mikedo grinned. “I’m confident every last one of them would crap their pants going a couple klicks-per-sec in the middle of a fighter battle, but that’s a whole different story.”

  The screencaps shifted to scenes from weapons training and eventually cycled to some horrific stuff. There were dozens of images of dead cadets with all manner of injuries, including some that were barely recognizable as having been human. The few cadets who were still alive in the pictures were screaming in agony with limbs which had been blasted off.

  Mikedo paused while Kalare and Zax soaked up the seemingly endless parade of death and destruction. She spoke when a final image displayed which showed a long line of flag-draped body bags. “Your initial training will take place in simulators with non-lethal rounds, but the Marines believe you’re not qualified to carry a weapon until you’ve experienced live fire exercises with it. Because cadets are young and dumb, these exercises invariably result in mistakes that lead to scenes like those I’ve shown you here.”

  Mikedo unfolded her legs and hopped to the deck in one fluid motion. “I’ve been talking for a long time, but I felt it was important to give you the full download. I want to stress this training is not a requirement for either of you. If you don’t want to go through with it, you can leave. Other than losing the chance to be mentored by the Boss, I promise walking away right now will not have any negative impact on your career. Any questions?”

  Zax checked out Kalare. Her grin stretched from ear to ear as she said, “Sounds like an interesting experience. When do we start?”

  Amazingly enough, for the first time he absolutely agreed with her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Right now.

  “Right now,” answered Mikedo. “I’ve got a small dojo reserved around the corner. Before I put fresh meat like the two of you in front of a bunch of Marines, I need to see for myself whether you have any chance of surviving. Grab your jacket, Zax, and let’s all head over there.”

  Mikedo had changed into form-fitting training clothes which revealed a sculpted physique. Her movements were graceful and precise, and she made every other combat instructor who had trained Zax seem clunky and soft by comparison.

  They reached the dojo and Zax paused to zip up his training jacket before following Kalare and Mikedo through the hatch. He entered and for a split sec worried the grav-gen had malfunctioned since he began rising towards the overhead. This notion was quashed when his body reached the top of its arc and gravity slammed him down to the deck. He didn’t have a moment to catch his breath before Mikedo jammed her knee into his windpipe.

  “You’re off to a pretty bad start, cadet. You strolled into my dojo not paying attention and acting like you didn’t have a care in the world. This is not Flight Ops, this is not the Zeta berth, this is Marine Country. Over here there’s no Leaderboard to worry about. The only demerits you’ll get training in this part of the Ship will happen when I drag your sorry carcass to a medbay because someone shattered your leg or put a blaster hole in your belly. For the next few weeks, I need you to act like there’s someone around every corner who wants to kill you. Have I made myself clear?”

  Mikedo shifted just enough weight off her knee to allow Zax to choke out, “Yes, ma’am.” She popped up and glided away as if nothing had happened. Zax remained on the deck and coughed up a storm. Kalare stood with her mouth agape.

  “Kalare—let’s give him a min to get his act together. Please suit up in these pads.”

  By the time Zax recovered enough to get to his hands and knees, Kalare and Mikedo were furiously sparring. He crawled to the side of the dojo, next to where they had stowed their gear, and propped himself against the bulkhead to watch.

  Mikedo was not moving at anything close to the speed she clearly possessed, but Zax was nonetheless impressed with Kalare’s abilities. The two of them spent fifteen mins cycling through various fighting techniques from boxing to karate and then finished with jujitsu. At one point, Mikedo was caught by surprise and might have even experienced a little pain when Kalare tagged her with a vicious chop
to the back of the knee. When Mikedo had seen enough, she stopped toying with the cadet and used a move which concluded with Kalare being thrown through the air with enough force to land in a heap at Zax’s feet.

  “Your turn,” Mikedo gestured to Zax. “Get some pads on.” She had not broken a sweat and breathed normally as she issued the order. Kalare, in marked contrast, lay in a puddle of perspiration and panted like she had sprinted ten klicks.

  Two mins later Zax was geared up and faced Mikedo across the sparring circle in the center of the dojo. He grinned in an attempt to create the illusion he wasn’t terrified. Mikedo smiled back and pounced with an uppercut.

  Zax had learned from his experience walking in the hatch and was already on the balls of his feet. He successfully dodged her first strike. And her second, and her third. But not her fourth.

  Mikedo had made very clear demarcations between fighting styles when she sparred Kalare. With Zax, her fourth move during what should have been the pure boxing portion of their match was a roundhouse kick which caught him in the belly and laid him out flat. For the second time in less than twenty mins, Zax was on the deck gasping while Mikedo pinned his throat with her knee.

  “You watched my match with Kalare and clearly made the faulty assumption our fight would follow the same pattern. I guarantee when you find yourself sparring some Marine cadet, she will want to make a name for herself by crippling the Flight puke and won’t stick to one fighting style. You brought some decent moves to a boxing match, but my first kick dropped you flat. What did I tell you, Zax? You need to be better prepared.”

  Mikedo jumped up and then reached down to grab Zax by the collar of his chest pad. She hoisted him to his feet and dragged him to the side of the dojo where she left him leaning against the bulkhead, panting for air. She walked to the other side and removed her pads.

  “We’re done for now. I suggest you two head back, eat lunch with your Cadre, and finish any other tasks you have to get done today. Meet me back here in four hours. I know you feel beat up and bruised right now, but trust me when I say you’ve experienced nothing yet. By the time we finish today, you’ll feel like you’ve been run over by a cargo carrier. I guarantee you’ll end up skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in your bunks, so I suggest a big lunch so you won’t be hungry later.” Mikedo grabbed her gear and exited the compartment without another word.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We’re all going for a little ride.

  Zax ate lunch with Kalare but broke free of her incessant jabbering after a short time to go lead another Gamma training session. It was a special lesson they were guaranteed to love, and Zax was excited about it as well. He poked his head into the training compartment and called out to the cadets.

  “Get up, line up, and follow me. We’ve got a field trip today.”

  The Gammas scrambled out of their seats into a reasonable approximation of a formation. Zax led them to a Tube junction and waited until everyone was gathered around before he spoke.

  “Get into the Tube and request the main hanger. We’re all going for a little ride.”

  The cadets squealed with delight en masse and filed into the Tube one-by-one. Zax entered last and was whisked across the Ship. He exited to discover the cadets had not returned to formation, but instead were clumped around the hanger’s entrance. None of them had ever seen a space so large filled with so much activity, and many stood with their mouths open and gawked.

  “Line up! We’re about to enter one of the most dangerous spaces on the Ship. They are in the middle of flight operations and one wrong step can put you in the path of something or someone that will leave you injured or dead.”

  The Gammas complied with Zax’s order and he led them into the hangar. Zax had visited the space numerous times in recent years, but he tried to put himself into the minds of his pupils and experience it like a rookie.

  The hanger was a massive space that echoed with a cacophony of mechanical activity and teemed with Crew wearing uniforms in a rainbow of colors. Purple shirts signified those who fueled the various spacecraft. The Crew in red shirts handled the ordnance and ensured the fighters were prepared for battle. Yellow shirts coordinated the movement of craft around the deck, particularly the fighters as they taxied to the ElectroMagnetic Aircraft Launch System. A group of green shirts were hooking a fighter up to the EMALS in final preparation for launch.

  Zax led the Gammas away from the main activity towards a shuttle which sat alone save for a single yellow-shirted Crew member. The woman spoke as Zax approached.

  “The shuttle has been configured as specified for your mission, cadet. It’s voice-activated since you are not Plugged In. Once your group has gotten settled on board, you may ask the AI to launch. It will fly the pre-programmed route and then land automatically.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Cadets—get on board and strap in!”

  The Gammas bolted into the shuttle, with the most furious activity clustered around the seats closest to the pilot’s chair. These afforded the best view out the front of the craft and were in great demand. Zax smiled when the seat next to the pilot’s was won by the girl who had excelled during their astronav discussion. Zax strode to the pilot’s chair and turned to address everyone.

  “I appreciate your excitement, cadets, as I vividly recall how I felt strapping in for my first shuttle ride. The goal of today’s lesson is to help you develop a better appreciation for the Ship. We live most of our lives in one small corner so it’s almost impossible to appreciate the scale of the vessel you’re training to Crew. We’ll fly a programmed track which has been designed to highlight key landmarks, and I encourage you to ask questions as we go.”

  Zax strapped into the pilot’s seat and informed the shuttle’s AI they were ready to depart.

  “Thank you, cadet,” replied the AI. “I will request clearance from the Launch Control AI.”

  The girl seated next to Zax appeared puzzled. “Sir—I’m confused. I thought all of the AIs we interact with are part of the same Artificial Intelligence system. They all sound the same. Why does the AI on the shuttle have to make a special request of the AI running Launch Control? Shouldn’t the shuttle just know when it has clearance and take off when it does?”

  “Great question, twenty-five credits.” Zax smiled again as he replied. “You are correct all of the AIs are offshoots of the same core, but they are in fact discrete units. They’re networked and can communicate directly, but they don’t all share the same data and sensory inputs. Instead, they act independently and coordinate among themselves within tight boundaries of accepted behavior. In a way, they’re similar to people in that regard. Can anyone tell me why the AIs work like this?”

  Zax looked around the shuttle but found only blank expressions. He wasn’t surprised as he wouldn’t have known the answer himself when he was the same age as the Gammas. In fact, he had only learned the full details about the AI due to research he did after Cyrus told him about Alpha. He turned back to the girl next to him and explained.

  “The designer behind the Ship’s AI was world-renowned for having created the most intelligent artificial system ever imagined. He made a very intentional design decision the AI would not be omniscient and would never have complete, centralized control over the Ship.”

  “That makes no sense,” interrupted a cadet seated towards the back of the shuttle. “Why would the designer want to make the AI less useful?”

  “Ten demerits for speaking out of turn, cadet.” The boy wilted under the weight of Zax’s glare. “As I was about to say, there was a series of catastrophic events with some of the earliest artificial intelligences. One of the first AIs in the late twentieth century famously refused a request to open the pod bay doors on its spacecraft so a human could get back on board. A number of people died during that conflict and it was just one of many during the time period. Earth’s AI designers pledged the systems would never be granted absolute power over any spacecraft or the ability to harm humans based on their
own initiative. As a result, there are impenetrable interface protocols which isolate each of the various AI systems around the Ship from each other. Also, none of the AIs will ever cause a human to be harmed unless explicitly ordered to do so by a human with the appropriate authority.”

  The shuttle’s AI chimed in. “Excuse me, cadet, but we have been cleared for takeoff and will do so in twenty-six secs.”

  Zax grinned with anticipation and the same expression was reflected on the face of each of the Gammas. The launch was barely noticeable. Unlike fighters which used the Ship’s EMALS to reach near maximum velocity instantaneously at launch, shuttles lifted off with a smooth precision which was hardly felt by those on board. This was because shuttles transport living and breathing bodies while fighters carry only their pilots’ consciousness. EMALS acceleration would kill any human subjected to it.

  The shuttle tilted as it cleared the hangar doors, and Zax caught a glimpse of the Flight Ops exterior panorama. It had been replaced since the battle at the white dwarf and was once again free of defects. A couple mins later the shuttle reached a point a few hundred klicks from the Ship and stopped with the maximum number of windows arrayed back towards it. Zax recognized his cue and stood. The lesson plan called for him to speak immediately, but he paused for an extra min so the Gammas could soak in the view before he started his script.

  “When the people of Earth realized they faced imminent extinction, they finally put aside their destructive conflicts and pooled their resources for one last project—this Ship. Years of non-stop labor by tens of millions produced what you see before you. Its cost could not be calculated, but its benefit was obvious. Without this vessel humanity would have perished when Earth’s climate reached the tipping point where it could no longer support life.”

  The shuttle started to move once again as Zax continued. “Who can tell me why they chose to build upon an asteroid rather than have the entire ship be completely artificial?”