The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  “You’re not wearing a hat.”

  “So, it’s off!”

  “Ensign Ruiz is the exception. You will see that she takes the usual dirty-foot transition classes, not to expend more than two hours a day. She should be able to get through them in a week. The rest of her time will be on watch. She can have her choice of departments, so long as they last one leg of the deployment.”

  “Agreed in a millisecond, sir!”

  “Before you leave, we need an answer to a question. If two ships on High Fan are linked by boarding tube, what happens to someone transiting the tube? Coordinate with Captain Shapiro and arrange for a test. You will test on inanimate objects first, next on lab rats and then on primates before you test with humans.”

  “I don’t think there will be a problem, sir. But that ‘maybe’ is sufficient reason to test,” Donna Merriweather told him.

  “And now, we need to inform the faculty committee of the change of plan,” Admiral Fletcher told them. “Are there any comments?”

  There were headshakes all around, before Admiral Sanchez and Captain Mikkeljon were admitted.

  “I have decided to amend the training schedule yet again,” Admiral Fletcher said. “I have assigned three hundred first- and second-year cadets to deploy with Thebes on a workup deployment. I have already selected the lucky cadets. A hundred and fifty from each class, half in the top third, half in the middle third, picked starting from each side of the mark.

  “This means I won’t pick the best or the worst. They have until Sunday night to shuttle up to Thebes. Please make some extra shuttles available, Admiral Merriweather. The crew draft for the fighter transition ensigns remains unchanged.

  “Only medical excuses that would normally preclude deployment will be tolerated. If there are any questions tell them they will be spending half days in classrooms and half days on actual watches with actual duties and responsibilities. They will be given until Thebes breaks orbit in ten days or so to pick a department to serve in.

  “The other class changes will be held in abeyance until the results of this test are known. Any questions?”

  Ernesto Sanchez shook his head and Tommy Mikkeljon just smiled. “It worked for Rhodes -- Ghu alone knows we need all the help we can get,” Captain Mikkeljon said.

  “Ghu, Captain?” Trudy Swenson asked.

  Turbine Jensen spoke up. “Invented by a Twentieth Century writer, a god with some -- exotic attributes. Tommy and I are fans, and we trade jokes.”

  “You are all okay with this?” Admiral Fletcher pressed.

  Ernesto Sanchez nodded. “Of course. You were here once upon a time as a student, again as an instructor and again as commandant. Each of us knows that there are some cadets who gallop through their classes, but for others it’s a labor worthy of Hercules.

  “Yet we’ve long held that slow and steady was the best way to proceed for everyone. Now we need better methods and we can’t afford not to push our best people ahead as fast as possible. If this upsets some pointy-headed twits in BuPers -- so be it!

  “It’s all well and good to pick the cadets as you’ve done for this program -- but we will need to do better at identifying the best candidates. I think we should use a mixture of self selection and faculty recommendation, but that can be studied in the time available. Eighteen weeks?”

  “Admiral Merriweather’s best guess. Thank you, Ernesto.”

  Tommy Mikklejon nodded as well. “I never met Rhodes, even if she was one of my operations officers in the Big Battle. Like Hannah Sawyer and you, Admiral Merriweather, I knew of you before the first day of fighter transition was over. I might not have met Rhodes, but enough reports about her landed on my desk by the next day!

  “I see that you want to call this an internship, but I prefer not to use the term ‘on the job training.’ I think there is a better way to characterize it -- an apprentice officer. We reclassify certificates like the ancient apprentice system, but allow for the former structure of certificates. Apprentice, journeyman, advanced and master levels.”

  “And now, we’ll go make a few cadets’ day!” Ernie Fletcher said, rubbing his hands in mock glee.

  *** ** ***

  Ernesto Sanchez was first to speak to the assembled cadets. “Good morning. Hopefully you will still feel like that in a few minutes.

  “I had prepared my final speech to my cadets long ago. Now I have one I never expected to have to give, but is absolutely necessary.

  “At the conclusion of this briefing, you will repair forthwith to the back of the auditorium. Some of my minions will be there with orders for each of you. There is a written summary and an HDD for you with the details.

  “You are guinea pigs. Adjust, adapt. Deal with the hand you are being dealt. You always were experimental cadets -- we’ve been refining our methods for more than three hundred years; with the war, we are struggling to come up with ever more optimal techniques.

  “You are hereby given formal notice of your upcoming deployment. The notice has been the same given to members of the Fleet for hundreds of years: it will grieve me to have to shoot any of you, but that is the current penalty for missing a deployment. You will pack for extended duty aloft for a period of months. You will report to Maunalua Shuttle Control with your orders by Sunday afternoon for deployment aboard Thebes. Sooner is better than later.

  “You are guinea pigs; be aware that you will be standing duty watches aboard Thebes. This is not make-work, not practice -- this is as real as it gets. You will be subject to the same rules as anyone else on a deployment. Talking about the deployment with anyone and we will shoot you -- and them. Speculation about your mission is forbidden.

  “Now, Captain Mikkeljon, the incoming commandant.”

  Tommy faced the cadets. “You are Fleet Aloft cadets, every last one of you. You will remain cadets before, during and after your deployment.

  “Your syllabus is going to change; the extent and nature of the changes are still being evaluated. Most likely, you will find yourselves free of artificial constraints. Do well on this deployment and the best among you will be ensigns. If you want to read about what is possible, read Cindy Rhodes’ public records.

  “As Admiral Sanchez has told you, you will be standing Aloft duty watches. You will also be in classes. Only one of those listening was slated for the Swensons’ classes. Now you all are. As always, you will be able to make of the opportunity what you will.

  “Lastly, you have another burden to bear. You are Fleet cadets. Your rank is lower than an ensign. You will be given duties the same as Fleet ensigns. However, that burden -- you will not be the only fresh caught aboard Thebes. There will be a thousand people slotted for officer familiarization, followed by fighter transition. For the first eight weeks they will be cadets as well and when they exit those familiarization classes, ensigns.

  “You may not ask how long your deployment will last, but it will be longer than twelve weeks.

  “Gentleman and ladies: you have your orders. When dismissed, report to the back of the room and pick up your individual orders. It would be pointless to ask you not to comment to each other, but this is for all the marbles. Quite simply -- don’t speculate!

  “Oh, and within limits, you may select any department aboard Thebes. You have a week to pick one. Again, sooner is better than later. Look up the first academic assignment given to the first fighter transition class, and the results thereof.

  “Fleet, Tenn-hut!”

  The call to attention caught the cadets napping. Still, it was now a Pavlovian reflex.

  “Chief of Fleet Operations, Fleet Admiral Ernest Fletcher!”

  Admiral Fletcher marched up to the podium and faced the cadets.

  “I’ll be brief.

  “We have been carrying the war back to our enemies, but our attacks have been pinpricks compared to what we have suffered.

  “Lately, I would characterize the fighting as skirmishing while both sides build afresh. I’m sure you are all aware of some of the
scope of our building program. We can build ships rapidly; we can staff them with competent techs and junior officers. More senior officers, we are running short of.

  “Admiral Nagoya established a project to train bright young officers, and I have continued and expanded it. In truth, project officers have performed in amazing ways and have been promoted to match.

  “Still, it’s a fart in a tornado! Seniors officers lead -- and that means they die in high numbers. We need more. Admiral Nagoya tried to locate as many project officers as he could find; still, there aren’t as many of us as there were before.

  “Cindy Rhodes was the slacker daughter of a slacker father and a worse mother. She attended a slacker secondary school -- not ten miles from where I’m standing. We can’t afford any more slackers. Simply and baldly put, we can’t afford to waste any more of our resources.

  “If you think you are badly abused, consider those secondary students! There are Fleet liaisons being placed, as we speak, everywhere in every secondary school on Earth. Slackers will not be tolerated -- instead they will be forcibly enlisted and run through the Fleet Testing Program and placed where they can do the most good.

  “You have an enormous opportunity here to excel. As the old recruitment slogan said, ‘Be all that you can be!’ As Rhodes should show, quite literally the sky isn’t even close to the limit of what you can achieve.

  “I have done something unprecedented. You cadets now have access to Cindy Rhodes’ full records. Read them. You will have access to them once you deploy. You will find yourself with raised eyebrows.

  “Cadets -- you are dismissed!”

  *** ** ***

  Susan Hightower read over her orders and queued up to ask a question. “My ship is in the basin, not orbit. My orders say to report aboard forthwith.”

  The full lieutenant she asked grinned. “In that case, leave a copy of your orders on your bunk, pack your ship bag as fast as you can and report aboard.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Are you dim, Cadet? Whatever your captain tells you to! Crew familiarization, I expect, but that’s for your captain to decide. And that is what the rest of your mates will be doing for the next ten days.”

  Susan blushed and rushed back to her room. Yolanda was lying on her bunk, but was clearly awake. She sat up on one elbow. “Susan?”

  “I’m to repair aboard Mad Hatter, forthwith.”

  “I have more meetings tomorrow, and then I’ll go up to Thebes.

  “Trust me, Susan, Mad Hatter has very good accommodations -- it was designed to go for years without fueling,” Yolanda told her roommate. “I can’t tell you about the deployment, but it’s not that long.”

  Susan went over and crouched down next to Yolanda. Yolanda saw that she was crying. “What, Susan?”

  “Since you arrived my life has been turned upside down, yet every instinct I have tells me that you aren’t the cause.”

  Yolanda smiled. “I never saw Steve before three weeks ago. I never knew there was a person like him in the universe. Scotland Yard had been investigating my mother’s murder for weeks. We went to talk to a detective in the morning, and that evening my mother’s murderer was in custody.

  “Steve is someone who makes things happen, Susan. Not me. I don’t know what-all he is doing, and while what I am about is important, it doesn’t seem to be a patch on Steve. Trust me, Susan, he cares about all of us and he is trying to do his best for us. I realize that I’m supposed to be partly responsible for rewriting the Academy and the Fleet certificate system.

  “But I think it was as much Steve as anyone else. Yes, I never forget things and it gives me an advantage over the rest of you. But the changes are for the rest of you, not me.

  “Susan,” Yolanda said, reaching out for the other woman’s arm, resting her fingertips lightly on the woman’s sleeve. “When Makaa and Captain Shapiro do the tests they have been required to do -- check their work. It’s probably safe enough, but there are reasons why live testing with a human are last on a long list of tests.”

  “What tests?”

  “I’m not permitted to say. I can’t believe either of them would slack in any way -- but it would be your life at risk. Check their work.”

  “And you can’t tell me more?” Susan asked.

  “I’m sorry, Susan.”

  “Well, I need to get out to your ship.” She straightened and wiped her eyes. “I’m a baby.”

  “I will tell you an official secret, Susan. I don’t look my age -- I turned fifteen in the last few weeks. I cried when I realized my mother was dead. I despaired at another point when I realized I wasn’t nearly as clever as I’d thought. Habit, training -- and determination -- kept me on course.

  “None of us, Susan, are immune to doubts. That’s what training is all about -- learning to deal with things, so your doubts are minimized. But doubts come, unbidden, to all of us.”

  *** ** ***

  Susan was composed when she reported aboard Mad Hatter. Captain Shapiro met her on the command deck. “Are you ready to go? Are you particularly susceptible to transition sickness?”

  “I’m ready to go, and like most people High Fan transitions make me uncomfortable, but no more so than most.”

  “I have to ask this, Cadet, please don’t be offended. There is a notation on your records that you have undergone four transitions in two minutes, in preparation for your master pilot’s certificate. The notes don’t say more than you passed.”

  Susan looked the captain right in the eye. “My limit was four. I canceled transitions five and six.”

  “You had enough gas to cancel the transitions, or you begged them to stop?”

  “I canceled the transitions manually, Captain. But I was out of gas after that.”

  Captain Shapiro laughed. “I’m here to tell you, you’ll never be a fighter pilot. A fighter pilot has to handle six in five minutes.”

  “Well, I never wanted to be a fighter pilot,” Susan informed the captain.

  “Smart woman! Let’s go forward and help Makaa with the liftoff checklist!”

  In ten minutes they were being tugged out to the launch area, then they launched. “Plot us a course for Tiger, Cadet,” Makaa told Susan.

  Susan did as bid, and six hours later they arrived at one of the most awesome warships of humanity. Nearly two kilometers long, a kilometer in diameter. Simply an unbelievable number of Blue lasers and Blue lasers mounted on missiles. Susan had put in for weapons training, but she was aware that cadets weren’t up on the latest weapons.

  The Tiger was “patrolling” in the Earth-Moon L2 point. There, it was ready to move to anyplace in the solar system in minutes, and anywhere in circum-Earth space in seconds.

  Susan wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Instead of the usual docking, they hard docked. Docking was normally defined as a “soft dock” -- close enough to extend a hundred meter docking tube where you could transfer to the larger ship. A hard dock was where the two vehicles were clamped together.

  Susan was aware that the docking procedure was much more thorough than usual.

  Then Makaa turned to her two companions. “Bubbles and gauntlets.”

  “I never had to on my fighter, sweetie,” Shapiro told the older woman.

  Then Makaa donned a bubble and pulled on her gauntlets. Captain Shapiro made a face. “You are ruining the mystique of fighter pilots!” But she did as bid, as did Susan.

  “Tiger will first test the clamps,” Makaa told them. “Prepare for a one hundred centimeter acceleration.”

  Lynn Shapiro laughed, “Is that a one hundred centimeters per second per second?”

  Makaa stuck her tongue out, and Susan felt the acceleration.

  “The clamps seem to be holding,” Makaa reported. “Prepare to reverse course and accelerate to a standard gravity.”

  The acceleration dropped to zero, then built up to a full gravity. “Okay, Makaa. Time for phase one of the testing.”

  A moment later, Makaa gr
unted. “The engineer that designed this! He was a genius! We have synced our fans to Tiger’s! Ninety-six fans running as one! In five seconds!”

  The acceleration eased, then resumed, but as before, one hundred and eighty degrees opposed to what it had been.

  “Bubbles tight!” Makaa ordered. “Phase three coming up!” Susan checked her bubble; it was fine. “High Fan transition in three...two...one...mark!”

  “Clamps holding, Tiger is still there, but now without fans!” Captain Shapiro reported. Susan blinked. She knew fighters could be dragged in tandem with tankers, but Mad Hatter doing that to a ship of Tiger’s size?

  A minute on High Fan, and they were down. “We are out about at Saturn’s distance from the sun. We can’t divert Tiger longer from her duty station than seven minutes,” Captain Shapiro told her two companions. “Now, Cadet Hightower, we rig for some tests. If you find yourself coming up against your transition limit, sing out! Come along, Cadet!”

  Susan found herself rigging a mundane boarding tube between Mad Hatter and Tiger. She even waved to the riggers on the other end!

  “Ready, Makaa!” the captain said.

  “And we have a resultant intrinsic velocity of a hundred kilometers per hour. Prepare for High Fan transition. You will have two minutes to run your tests!”

  The two ships went to High Fan, and Captain Shapiro grabbed a dummy and tossed it into the boarding tube. She was very accurate, and the master chief on the other end was just as accurate. Shapiro reported that the phase was complete and they came off fan.

  “You doing okay, Hightower? Can you handle another pair of transitions?”

  “These are further apart than my qualification test, Captain. I’m good to go!”

  They went to fans again. This time, it was a live rat in a cage that Shapiro tossed to the Tiger. The cage returned at once, but bounced once along the sidewall. Captain Shapiro called across the hundred meters. “You’re getting old, Pirate!”

  Captain Shapiro pulled the wiggling mouse out of the cage. “You think you are funny, Pirate! Substituting a mouse for the cargo!”