I brought the treadmill to a halt. “Can they be recharged in the field like York’s?”
George replied, “They can. In addition, that plate at the base of your spine that you have repeatedly asked about—it will be receiving two power cells of its own. They will be configured in a balanced assembly that should provide backup power for an additional week, should you manage to exhaust any of the other cells.”
I stepped off the treadmill and tossed the dry towel I had thrown over the side of the display onto a chair. “Wow. Twenty kilometers at a heavily inclined run, and I am not sweating. My heart rate, it is only elevated about 5 percent. That took no more effort than sitting in the pilot’s chair of the Swift. You done good, Doc. Better than good, really.”
George spoke. “If you would care to step over here to the leg press, I would like to proceed with a strength test. I’m setting the resistive weight to five hundred kilograms.”
I pulled my head back in mild shock. “Five hundred! I don’t know, Doc, the most I have pushed before has been half of that.”
George replied, “The upper limit of the system we installed was seven hundred kilograms in the lab. When I say seven hundred, that is where a catastrophic failure occurred. I feel confident that five hundred kilograms can be repeatedly pressed without overworking the bonds.”
I set myself into the machine, grabbed the handles, pressed my shoulders up to the pads, and gave George a nod. “Ready when you are.”
George replied, “Give me one moment as I put your system into diagnostic mode. Each of those joints has a sensor that will relay stress data to my display. This will be the first test with a subject who has the reinforced Tantric skeleton. The results should be interesting. You may begin whenever you are ready.”
I lifted the load slightly to engage the resistive weight. I found the pressure to be more than I could handle, and I sank slowly down to the minimum stop as my neck muscles flexed and the veins in my forehead popped out.
When the weight hit the stop, I looked up at George. “What, what happened there? I lifted the two fifty OK. Why could I not stop that from going down?”
George tapped away on his display. “Hmm. Either the stress numbers those joints are putting out are flawed results or the Tantric layer fused into your bones is much stronger than I predicted. If these numbers are correct, your framework should be able to tolerate double, and perhaps even triple the load. This is quite interesting. I will have to give this data a thorough review.”
George turned away as he studied the numbers on his display. As he walked around the corner going out into the hallway, I raised my hands into an open-palmed gesture.
I spoke in a loud voice as I looked at the door. “What the…? Hey! Can I lift this weight or what!”
George returned and stood in the door. “I apologize, Don. Yes, you should be able to lift that weight. Your legs are capable. It is only your brain that is holding you back. You will have to focus, as your memories are telling you that it is too much weight. Believe that you can, and you will. Enjoy your afternoon, Don. I have much to do.”
My trainer entered the room as George walked away. “Back on the leg press, I see. Wait, five hundred kilos? Did the doc clear you for that?”
I grabbed the handles and grunted as I attempted to lift the weight. “He… said… I could… probably… do triple.”
The weight did not move. I again tried with no success.
The trainer spoke. “Those legs should push that weight without issue. It’s the rest of your system that will fail around seven hundred kilos.”
I replied, “We just did a test, and George said I should be able to do double or possibly triple that. I just want to do these five hundred kilos right now!”
I again strained as I attempted to push with everything I had. My head shook as if I was having a seizure while my neck wobbled and the veins on my forehead once again popped out.
I yelled, “Arrrrggghhhh!”
The weight lifted only slightly.
I again yelled and pushed with everything I had, and the weight moved a tiny bit further. “Arrrrggghhhh!”
I dropped the weight back down the centimeter it had moved, allowing it to bang hard on the minimum stop.
I firmed my grip and again yelled as I pushed with an intent that I had never before felt. “Arrrggghhhh!”
I next heard a snapping metallic clang, and the resistive weight machine bucked violently as I pushed the weight up to the maximum stop. The trainer pushed the Off Safety button, freezing the weight in place.
I again let out a yell as I stepped off the machine and flexed my prosthetic arms in a he-man fashion. “Yeeeeaaahhhh! I will not be denied! That… felt… great!”
The trainer then grabbed my shoulder and indicated that I turn back towards the weight machine. “Sir, look at that! The directional stops were set for down only! You sheared them right off!”
I looked down at the broken metal tabs that had held the weight down. “What? You are kidding me! No wonder my brain was about to come shooting out of my eye sockets!”
The trainer stood after inspecting the broken tabs. “Sir, forget about the five hundred kilos. I think you just surpassed your triple test right there. Those stops are designed to take way more than that machine can handle on the resistive side. Wow, Sir. All I can say is… that is impressive!”
I thanked the trainer for his assistance and stepped out into the hallway with a smile on my face. By the time I entered George’s office, that smile had turned into a grin. I plopped down in a chair in front of George’s desk.
George spoke without looking up as he continued to work on his display. “So, I guess that James showed you that the stop was applied. I’m sorry, but I sometimes do such things for amusement. I take it that you pushed up the five hundred kilograms?”
I leaned forward, looking upwards at George until I caught his eye. “Oh, James showed me that the down-only stop was somehow engaged. He was wondering who had set it. He also pointed out the metal tabs that made up the stop, after I had sheared them off! I broke the tabs off, Doc! They broke off like they were made out of cheap lead or something!”
George rose up in his chair. “Are you saying you pushed through the stops before standing that weight up?”
I replied as I looked down at my legs, “I’m telling you exactly that. And, I just wanted to say thanks for the A-plus equipment, Doc. I think I can get used to this!”
George shook his head. “So, what you are really telling me is that you broke the only resistive leg press that we have.”
I sat back in the chair. “Look at what you built, Doc. I have faith in you that you can repair a leg press. Should I take this as a sign that my training is done?”
George returned to the work on his display. “You are done. Go and do as you will. Come by tomorrow, and I will drop in those new power cells.”
I smiled and began to stand from the chair as George looked up at me. “Keep this in mind, Don: you are still made up of soft tissue. You may be able to push your arms and legs further, to jump higher or easily crush or break things that you could not crush or break before, but that soft tissue that makes up the rest of you is very limited in what it can take. Those tissues, including that soft brain of yours, will remain your weak points during combat or any other physically stressful event.”
I replied, “So, that’s it. You are turning me loose?”
George sighed. “Yes, you are free. Just continue to train on your own. After the new power cells, come back in a month, and we will test those reaction times again. The more you practice, the better your reactions will be.”
I left the infirmary floor with a smile on my face as I made my way back to Frig’s lab. I turned a corner and took note of York, who was having a conversation with another crewman.
As I walked up to Diane York, I spoke. “I finally finished my training. Doc says I am good to go!”
York replied, “Glad to hear it, Sir. It’s like I have been t
elling everyone since I got these. They can’t be beat. Everything I was able to do before, I am at least as capable of now, if not more so. I heard they were trying out new power cells? Have you been outfitted with them, Sir?”
I shook my head. “Doc says to come back tomorrow. Other than the wonders of our cyborg systems, how is everything going?”
York sighed. “Well, other than having worked through every form of entertainment we have available on this ship, I would say Captain Meecha and the other Gontas are getting very bored, Sir. I’m sure they are homesick for their own people and culture. Unless I am out there and fighting, the same thing happens to me. You can’t wait to leave home to go out on an adventure, and you can’t wait to get home afterward.”
I replied, “Tell me about it. I haven’t seen or heard from my wife in months. I wish we could get those demodulators working properly again. It would be nice to know if the Grid is still there.”
I walked down the hallway to Frig’s lab to find a still-frustrated Gambit banging his little fist on his desk. “These numbers should work!”
Frig stood and let out a long breath. I moved over to his station to have a look at the screen. A big red X flashed beside a long set of equations.
“I looked over at the demodulator circuit. Maybe if we give it a swift kick or something.”
Frig grunted and huffed. “No, I already gave that a try out of desperation. Everything seems to be in order, but we get very little signal out of the final antennae.”
I spoke. “Have you checked the signal coming in?”
Frig looked up with a sarcastic expression. “What do you think, Sir? Yes, the techs have repeatedly verified the input.”
In his agitated state, I knew I could easily get a rise out of Frig, so I took the opportunity. “No, have you verified the input signal?”
Frig stopped and returned an inquisitive look. It was not the response I was expecting.
Frig spoke. “Are you suggesting that I verify the signal myself?”
I replied, “Uh, sure. If that’s what it takes.”
Frig called over one of the techs and sent him off for a piece of test equipment. The tech returned with a small meter and two probes.
Frig powered up the system and proceeded to inspect the input signal. “Don, could you press that glowing green button on the display for me?”
I complied, and the system metrics on the screen all turned positive, all except for the output power. Frig set the meter and began to probe different points. Several seconds later, he looked up in disgust.
Frig spoke. “I have been over this entire system multiple times, and yet you walk in and point me right to the problem. I have to wonder now if you had this planned all along.”
I replied, “What are you saying? That I found the issue?”
Frig turned to the tech. “When I asked you the reading of the input signal, what was it that you told me?”
The tech replied, “I said the meter read ten, to which you always responded with a humph. It still says ten right there. What is the issue?”
Frig restrained himself from striking the tech. “I said ten kilojoules. What does this meter read?”
The tech looked again at the meter. “Ten… joules. Wow, Sir. I am sorry. I must have misheard that initially. Every time since the first, you have just said ten, and then grunted and turned away when I said ten.”
Frig sighed as his anger waned. “It is OK, Peter. It was a miscommunication between us both. At least we have found what should be our issue. Mr. Becket! Please bring us a new glass diode for the demodulator! It appears to be damaged!”
The tech named Becket headed off to the parts storeroom to find a replacement diode.
Frig looked up at me with a disgusted expression. “I am certain that you wish to rub this in my face, Sir. Please begin so that we can get on with our repairs.”
I smirked and shook my head. “As much as I love rubbing your flat little nose into things, I’m afraid I will have to pass on this one. Just get that thing working so we can find out if the Grid is still there.”
As Frig turned back to his work, I made my way down to the mess hall for a cup of java. I sat at a table and sipped away at the goodness that the elixir that we called coffee was. I looked around the mess hall at the others that were gathered there. I thought to myself about how these were all great examples of the Human spirit. Each and every one had originally volunteered to join our ranks. I knew that the people on this ship would do everything in their power to bring us back to the Grid. I just hoped there was still a Grid to be brought to.
Chapter 16
I sat in a chair in Frig’s lab as the first attempt was made to verify the Grid’s continued existence. I was nervous. I had a level of anxiety going that I had not had in a long time. The familiar hum of the driver circuits kicking in only heightened my level of fear.
Frig spoke. “Portal is opening. Performing scan.”
Several seconds passed.
Frig continued, “Scan complete. Portal closing. Now, let’s see what we have.”
The others in the room stood in silence as Frig looked over the results.
Frig turned in my direction. “Sir, I am sorry. The Grid has been moved. I will perform another scan for residuals. If it’s more than a few weeks or a month ago, we may not be able to follow a trail.”
I stood as I replied, “I guess it doesn’t matter. I know where the Duke took it. It is sitting back at his home base with the other destroyed Verna. It is now more imperative than ever that we ally with the Gonta. I will go and inform Meecha of our needs. Inform Captain Malta that we will be changing our direction. Have him turn us towards the location of the Verna.”
For the first time in my life, and for the first time in our recorded history, the Grid was under the complete control of other than Humans. During the last incursion, the Dakar and the Prassi had taken most of the great station from us, but we had overcome the invasion and regained control. This time was different. We had no foothold from which to begin our fight.
I joined the Gonta in a room that we had set aside for their entertainment. It was plush for a Human, but lacking for a Gonta on an extended vacation. I sat down in a beanbag-type chair with a depressed look on my face.
Meecha spoke. “It would seem that much troubles you, Don Grange. I take it that you have received some bad news?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we just found out that it looks like the Duke has taken possession of the rest of our population, our Grid, and everyone else we know. This fleet is all we have now, which is why I came to talk to you.”
Meecha continued, “Your home world? It has been captured by the Duke?”
Again I nodded. “Well, yes and no. We don’t have a home world, Meecha. We have a station where we all live. We call it the Grid. Remember me talking about the Durians and how they are coming this way?”
Meecha replied, “Yes. You described them in much detail.”
I spoke. “Well, they weren’t just headed our way, they were pursuing us. Much like a species before them, the Milgari, had been chasing us for a thousand years. You see, Meecha, our species, Humans, was dropped on this station a thousand years ago. We have no knowledge of where we came from or how we came to be on this station. It was there, we were there, and we made the best use of it we could in order to survive.”
Meecha reached out his hand and took hold of my forearm. “You are telling the story of my people, Don Grange. Our home world, Tresha, has four stations in orbit around her. We do not know of our origins, only that we came to be in this place at that time. Describe your Grid to me, Don Grange: the shape, the weapons, and its drive system.”
We talked for hours comparing our Grid to their Carions. The stations were nearly identical in design, build, function, and feature. They, however, had never fully engaged the gravity drive, as their needs for movement had been minimal.
The Gonta too had been attacked shortly after their arrival on the Carions, but the species that
assaulted the Gontas was weak and easily repelled. Since that time, the Gonta had been able to make peace with other local star systems, and the Gonta Federation was soon born. The Federation had continued on a slow and steady path of growth for more than two thousand years until their first encounter with the Colossuns. Their friendly culture of commerce had turned quickly into one of defense. For the first time since their initial encounters with hostiles, the Gontas feared for their existence.
Meecha spoke. “These Verna that you speak of—they were destroyed?”
I replied, “Yes, at least according to the Duke, they were. He described what had happened, and he sounded a little frustrated over it. The discussion we were having seemed true enough. If you are worried about your Carions, then I would say you should be. His ships may not be able to defeat one, but if he knows how to get on board, he knows how to set off the self-destructs. That is what he claims happened to the Verna.”
Meecha thought for a moment. “Has your method of communication been restored? Can we try again to contact our Central Command? I am certain that this new information would change things.”
I rose from the comfort of my bean chair and asked the captain to join me. When we arrived in Frig’s lab, he was busy with continued scans and searches of the area nearby where the Grid had last been.
I spoke. “Frig, the captain here has a set of coordinates that I would like you to open a comm channel to. It’s the Gonta Central Command, and it’s time we made and cemented a new ally.”
Meecha gave the coordinates, and a comm was soon open deep into Gonta space.
Meecha stepped forward, but I stopped his progress. “I’ll handle this one.”
I touched the comm button on my arm pad. “This is Don Grange, speaking on behalf of the Human race. May I speak with the officer in charge?”
A reply came over the comm. “Who is this, and how did you come by this channel? You are trespassing on a restricted communications network of the Gonta Federation. I repeat, who is this?”
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