Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles)

by Rob Buckman

  “Hello, Scott. It looks as if you’re having fun,” he said as he came online. With one eye on the ships milling about the battle board, Scott took the call.

  “You have some good news for me, Devon?” Scott asked quickly, his eyes flicking back to the ongoing engagement.

  “You could say that. How about a brand-new ship to play with?” At that instant, a new element entered the battle, one that swept across the battle tank toward him at high speed. Even before he ordered the fleet to stand down, they fell in around the new ship as she pulled alongside the old New Zealand amid cheering and shouts across the comm channels. Her IFF flashed onto the battle board as the now christened ship, the Australia, came into optical view.

  “Ready to transfer your flag, Admiral?” Devon asked.

  “Hell yes!” he snapped, jumping up out of the command chair.

  “Good. I’m only using a steerage crew plus a few people to make up your complement at the moment, so I’ll switch with you when you’re ready, then send the NZ back to the moon base for upgrades.”

  “Where is the new crew for the Australia?”

  “Hopefully waiting to come aboard the moment the NZ gets back to moon orbit and hands her over to the yard dogs. Once there, the remainder will transfer here along with the rest of the crew, a very green crew I might add.”

  “We need them to get aboard and back out here to get some sim time under their belts.”

  His mind jumped to the possibilities with two major fleet elements to play with.

  In all, it took three hours to transfer what little crew he could take with him through the transfer rings. While that was going on, Scott settled into his new cabin with a glass of good whisky and sat with Devon as CPO Hardwick transferred his personal belongings and mess gear. Hardwick kept a sharp eye on the sticky-fingered marines he was using to trans-load his pantry supplies.

  “She’s ready to go, Scott, fully loaded with food, water, supplies, and power,” Devon said.

  “Good, I was hoping you’d say that, since the lizards could come through that warp point at any moment.”

  “Hopefully, this time they won’t know the layout of this ship.”

  “If they do, I’m going to go back and start shooting people in the so-called World Government until I find out who told them,” Scott growled.

  Devon nodded, understanding Scott’s ire. “I think you’ll like what I’ve done with her. Sorry about the delay, but I had to get that larger power plant built and put in her before I handed her over to you.”

  “Oh? How’d you manage that? I thought you said you couldn’t.”

  “That was before your idea about the rings.”

  It took a second for Scott to click. “You mean?”

  “Oh yes,” Devon said a broad smile on his face. “I cut the end off and opened her up and installed two reversed rings in the place where the engine room is, was, or should be.”

  “And now?”

  “Good god, you have a power plant in there that would supply a bloody planet, let alone this ship.”

  Scott placed his glass on the table. “Let’s go have a look.”

  “You sure you want to?” Devon asked.

  “Yes, why not?” Scott asked, giving him a puzzled look.

  Scott found out when he stepped into the so-called engine room. It was almost empty, except for the massive cylinder poking up in the center. It was also so quiet you could talk normally, which was Scott’s next surprise. Along each side of the cavernous room, he could see the massive hump-shouldered capacitors, six on each side. On the old New Zealand he only had two on each side. Six meant his cycle time between discharges of the main armament would be just a few seconds, instead of fifteen seconds in his old ship. Together they stood on a catwalk, high over the engine room, looking down. Pipes, conduit and cables ran along both bulkheads and the deckhead, all of massive proportions, and all terminating against the end bulkhead around the giant transfer ring.

  “The reason for the delay was in getting all the different-size rings made and installed. I had to bully my way to the top of the list to get them.” Devon pointed to the rings at each end of the cavernous room while they walked around the catwalk. “I won’t tell you the headaches I had trying to figure out how to make them as strong as I needed, and fit one through the other once they were made and activated.” He smiled, puffing on his old brier pipe.

  “Oh, by the way. What happens if the power goes off?” It had suddenly stuck Scott that the space inside the engine room depended on the rings being active. If that went off, the space between them would collapse, taking this whole room with it.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Devon said. “That occurred to me as well. The rings have multiple backup power supplies built in that will last up to six months.”

  “You said backup?”

  “Yes, normally they run off the power in the fusion reactor, a direct link I might add, so the question of collapse is marginal. You would have to destroy most of this ship and the fusion bottle for that to happen.”

  “And if it does?” Scott asked.

  “If it goes, you’ll never know it. The resulting explosion would probably destroy anything within a hundred cubic miles.” Not exactly a comforting thought to Scott, but Devon chuckled, unlocking a hatch and holding it open. Scott stepped inside, passing through a ring doorway. Devon entered and closed the hatch behind him, locking it shut.

  “You can’t open the other hatch until this one is closed and locked, just another safety precaution.” Saying that, Devon hit a button and looked at the monitor. “Good, air pressure is equal.” He pressed a second button after unlocking the hatch, and cycled it open. Scott stepped though and immediately grabbed the safety rail as he looked down.

  “Good god!” he muttered. A shaft dropped away in front of him to at least five hundred feet.

  “Impressive huh?”

  “Jesus H … you could say that.”

  “I had a second pair of rings installed so I could drop the fusion reactor into its own well, instead of taking up space in the engine room.” The fusion reactor hung in the center of the shaft between giant girders, and he could see what Devon was talking about. It did look big enough to power a planet, let alone his ship.

  “I think you’ll have sufficient power now, don’t you?” Devon laughed. Scott nodded as he tried to take it all in.

  It was no wonder Devon had taken so long to deliver his ship. He must have worked day and night to get this installed and connected. He tried to imagine the amount of power something like this put out. A ship this size, and with this amount of defense and firepower, plus auxiliary systems and usage … he could understand Devon’s concern. That was all put to rest now.

  “How often do you need to refuel this damn thing?” he asked, thinking he’d be running for the refueling dock every few days, or weeks.

  “Never. You can pick up all the hydrogen you need as you go. It’s the one element that can be found anywhere in the universe.”

  Scott stood there, looking down the shaft in awe. “Where did you store the fuel to feed this monster?”

  “Down there,” Devon said, pointing with his pipe. “All self-contained, and automatic. It’s one thing these people have a good handle on, so I just used the available technology.”

  Scott’s communicator buzzed. “Admiral, aye!” he said, touching the pad.

  “Two transport ships inbound. One is coming alongside now, sir.”

  “Who’s aboard?”

  “Would you believe the World Council, all three hundred of them?” His first officer chucked. Scott just groaned. That was all he needed right now.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” the first officer said. “Their children are coming alongside in the first shuttle right now.”

  At that point, Scott swore. “What brilliant idiot came up with that master stroke?”

  “Colonel Brock, sir. Remember, the council members were told their children were onboard ships of the fleet. The moment Co
lonel Brock heard the council was on its way here, he packed them into a shuttle and sent them ahead. So where shall I put them, skipper?”

  “Christ on a crutch! Of all the hair-brained, stupid, idiotic …” He ran out of words and stood there, looking at the fusion reactor. Then a thought struck him and a slight smile cross his face. “Stick them in the point defense centers. Scatter them so it looks as if they’re here for training. That should really piss off the council members. I’m on my way up right now. Have the council meet me in my quarters when they arrive.”

  Devon had the good sense to stay in the background and say nothing, and without anything else to do, he followed Scott. They went straight to CIC to check in, then to Scott’s quarters, finding the place a bit cramped with the entire council standing or sitting around. He was glad to see that Hardwick had found something potable to put in their hands, and the members weren’t reluctant to drink it, despite the supposed prohibition on alcohol. Even so, none of them looked very happy.

  “Attention! Admiral on deck!” Hardwick called. If nothing else, it did tell everyone he was here. The marine guard came to attention, which brought a few odd looks from the council members.

  “At ease everyone,” Scott announced, and shook hands with President Westwood.

  “I’m very impressed with your new ship, Admiral. It’s quite a sight from space.”

  “It’s a she, Mr. President. All ships are she … never it.”

  “Oh, why is that?” Westwood asked in surprise.

  “Because most of them have a bitch of a personality,” he answered with a chuckle, receiving a blank look in response.

  “I never thought of machinery as having a personality, Admiral.”

  “There speaks someone who never had much dealing with equipment,” Devon interjected. Scott introduced them, and for a while, they circulated around the group. It was inevitable that one of them would come to the point of the visit.

  “I want to see my son, whatever-your-name-is.” It was an obvious insult, but Scott couldn’t blame them.

  “It’s Admiral Drake, Minister, and if you would give your name to CPO Hardwick, we’ll get you together in a group and you can go and see your children, and have a look around the ship at the same time.”

  “I have no intention, or desire to look around this abomination.”

  With that, the minister turned away and pointedly started talking to the president again.

  This little ploy did give his people more time to get the children in place. Under CPO Hardwick’s direction, the council broke up into groups of ten and were led away by a marine to see their respective children, deliberately being taken the long way around through multiple rings, so it would look and feel as if they’d walked a long way. The cabin slowly cleared at the last group departed, leaving President Westwood, Scott, and Devon. It was obvious the president was upset, guessing that his missing children were the cause. Having lost two of his own, Scott could sympathize.

  “I’m sure you’d like to go and see your daughters, Mr. President, and I’d be happy to show you the way to where they’re training.”

  “Unlike many of my counterparts, I do value the lives of my daughters. Especially after losing my sons. I’m glad they could come here under your protection, Admiral.”

  “Thanks to you, Mr. President, I have a great ship here. I can now take this war to the enemy and exact retribution for all the lost children,” he murmured softly. The old man patted his arm in answer.

  “I know you will, Admiral, I know you will. Even if my myopic idiot colleagues can’t or won’t see that.”

  Scott wondered how much pressure the council was putting on the president while he took Westwood to see his daughters before leading him back to the bridge so he could get a better feel for the ship. He sat him beside Devon, in the extra seats behind his, before resuming the command chair. It only took a moment for him to fall into the pattern of the ongoing battle simulations and redirect the exercise. It was during a break in an attack run that his private comm channel buzzed.

  “Admiral Aye!”

  “Point defense CIC here, skipper.”

  “What’s up, Caroline?” Since this had come over on his private comm channel, he dispensed with formalities. His repeater screen lit up, showing Caroline surrounded by a group of excited children, all chattering at once. As yet, their parents hadn’t arrived.

  “Not much, skipper,” Caroline chuckled, raising her eye pleadingly to heaven. “As you know, we’re shorthanded down here, and the kids have been pestering me to let them climb into the weapon pods and try their hand.”

  Scott thought about it for a moment, pondering the implication.

  “I didn’t see any harm letting the little buggers fire a few simulation rounds, but I wanted to check with you first.”

  “You know their parents are on the way down to see them, don’t you?”

  “Yes, skipper, Chief Hardwick did inform me.”

  Like wheels turning within wheels, Scott pondered the implications and possible outcome of the parents seeing their children standing around in point defense CIC, or actually sitting in the pods. Clearly, seeing them firing the weapon, even if only in simulation, would have a far greater impact than merely standing around looking bored, as children with nothing to do usually were. His instinct was to say no, but then again, if the parents thought their kids actually were in harm’s way, it might just keep them in line a bit longer. As they said, one picture is worth a thousand words. It wouldn’t even matter if the kids told them that they were actually living safe and sound in New Zealand, and not aboard his fleet. Seeing their children actually sitting in a weapons pod and firing at simulated targets would stick.

  “All right, Charlotte, let them sit in. Just make sure they understand that this is a simulation, not an actual battle.” He said with a chuckle, “We don’t want them blowing a hole in one of our shiny new toys.”

  That brought a grin from Charlotte. “I’ll make sure the safeties are on, skipper.” With that, she signed off.

  Scott kept them at it for another two hours, before signaling an end to the exercise and headed back to moon orbit. This time there were no breakdowns, and none of the captains reported any significant problems. It also gave all the council members time to see their children, and become totally bored.

  “It looks as if both our QC programs worked, Devon,” he said, turning his chair around to give Devon a wink without the president seeing him.

  “Thanks, Scott, I agree,” Devon returned the wink. “I will say, we didn’t run into any major problems during the building, or any more, shall we say, errors.” He smiled.

  “Yes, that little problem seems to have disappeared completely.”

  “Having the yard crew do a shakedown as soon as each ship came off the ways was also helpful in bringing the ships into service quicker.”

  “Whatever you did, it looks as if most of the bugs have been worked out.” He reached over and shook Devon’s hand. “Let’s go get a drink and round up our wayward council members. All this war simulation must have them foaming at the mouth by now.” He could see that the president looked a little green around the gills. Even if it was make-believe. Scott keyed point defense CIC.

  “Yes, skipper?”

  “You can pull the little buggers out now, Charlotte.”

  “Thank the lord for small mercies.” She sighed. “Between their pestering and these council members bitching, they’re driving me to shooting a few as object lessons.”

  “Start herding the council members back up here as soon as they’ve had a chance to chat with the kids, but not too long.”

  “Aye-aye, skipper, will do.”

  “Number One, you have the con!” he said, standing up and vacating the seat.

  His steel-gray eye glinted with humor as the small figure of Akari Hirota turned towards him and bowed. He’d have to cure her of that habit, but then again he might not. It was an ingrained habit with Japanese culture that started as
soon as they were old enough to walk. Her long, raven-black hair was tied up in a tight bun, and the stern face belied the normally blinding smile she’d worn throughout their time at the academy. Her last position was as XO of the heavy cruiser Auckland, where she’d performed brilliantly. Scott had expected nothing less; she was the leading student behind him. He doubted he would have beat her to that position if he hadn’t had the years of combat training as he stepped up the ranks in his old life. He knew that being given the XO/captain’s position on this ship must have seemed daunting to her, but he knew she’d soon work herself into the position, as many of the new captains and XO’s had to. They didn’t have time to pamper anyone. It was sink or swim. If you couldn’t do the job, everyone would know, and you’d be asked to step down and work your way back up again.