by M. Alan Marr
“Commander on deck!” Instantly, there are twenty-six pairs of feet stomping to attention, including Idris.
Dev takes a step inward. “Apologies for the interruption,” he says, in a clear, commanding voice.
The very serious Idris Adelle looks at Dev and smiles ever so slightly. So slightly, in fact, her face returns to the serious look before anyone in the class could notice. “Midshipmen,” Idris says, “we are in the presence of greatness.” Idris walks over to the doorway. “Flight Commander Dev Caelestis,” she says for the benefit of her class, and then renders a salute. “How may we be of service, sir?”
“Leftenant Idris.” Dev returns the salute and then speaks quietly to her. “I was hoping to speak with you a moment, when your duties permit.”
“Certainly, sir. I was just concluding my dissertation, but I can dismiss them early.”
“And deny these impressionable young Mids of your teachings?” Dev shakes his head in disapproval and then adds, in normal tones, “Please continue, Commander, We’ll wait.”
Idris invites them to sit at a vacant station, which is a relief to Chaz. He forces himself to reach the seat with composure, where he promptly sits down a lot harder and more awkwardly than he planned. His breathing becomes short and quick as he attempts to recover from his painful gaffe and display of discomfort. Dev leans in toward him and tells him to put the mask back on. Chaz does so and works to take deeper, more controlled breaths.
Some of the students notice and quietly make comments to their desk mate. Idris delivers a dagger-like glance to the class. “As you were, Midshipmen.” Her words unmistakably sound like a warning; they are not showing proper respect. Silently, the Midshipmen all sit down in unison.
Chaz listens to the short conclusion of the dissertation, not following any part of it, except that the compression system utilizes the main engines, reaction, and gravitation systems in concert. He also heard the instructor refer to the internal mechanics of the main engines as a Noey Photon Propulsion System. Setting aside the technology, the one thing that strikes Chaz truly odd in all this, is that Idris speaks with an accent that sounds remarkably like highbrow London.
A series of tones signals the end of the period.
“Midshipmen,” Idris says while standing, triggering her class to rise. “Dismissed.”
The class files out of the classroom in choreographed order from rear to front and out the door. Many students steal furtive glances at Dev and Chaz as they depart. Most of the students nod to the officers in passing, some say Commander, Lieutenant Commander, some say sirs as they file out. Many salute. The corridors fill with students, who all begin talking once they are outside their respective classrooms. Dev hears at least one person say his full name out in the hallway. Idris closes the door behind the last student and then approaches Dev and Chaz, who are getting up as well, Chaz with way more difficulty.
“Commander Dev, it is very good to see you, sir.” She smiles softly.
“And you, Commander,” Dev replies. “Idris, may I present Lieutenant Commander Chaz Ronaldi. Chaz, the eminent Leftenant Idris Adelle.”
Idris looks at Chaz. “Your reputation precedes you, sir.”
Chaz takes off his mask and replies with difficulty. “My . . . pleasure . . . ma’am.”
Dev comments on Chaz’s discomfort. “He’s really not used to this gravity.”
“Clearly,” Idris says with a wry smile. She eyes Chaz up and down innocently. “It should go without saying, I’ve never met an Earth resident before.”
“I’m . . . not . . . at . . . my best,” Chaz labors to say and winces from the effort.
“Quite understandable.”
The classroom is momentarily illuminated by the flash of static lightning and clap of thunder caused by the ash clouds. Idris looks toward the windows. “Can you believe this?” She turns back and sees Chaz trying to steady himself against the desk. “Sit down, sir, I beg you,” she says, and adds, “We were all newcomers to Bellerophon at one time or another. The gravity is kind to no one here.”
Chaz slowly manages to shake his head. “I’m . . . fine.”
Dev looks at Idris. “We were on Lyra. The devastation was terrible.”
“You were both in the combat zone?”
Dev nods. “Chaz saved a Lyran from a Yeti.”
“Really,” she marvels, knowing it meant Chaz killed the Yeti. “Well done, sir.”
“It . . . was . . . nothing,” Chaz manages to say.
Idris knows very well it was not nothing, but appreciates Chaz’s humility. She looks at Dev and continues, “What brings you to Bellerophon?”
“Idris, Chaz and I are heading up a special project for the Admiralty. I need a Tech Officer and wanted to see if you were interested.”
“TECHO, really?” Idris says. “I’m honored you thought of me. What is the billet?”
“We’re going to form a tactical fighter squadron on Earth.”
“On Earth?” she says with surprise. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
This is surprisingly new territory for Idris. “I can certainly point out several excellent candidates.”
“Actually, Idris, we’ll be training Earth pilots.”
The surprise look on her face was brief, but evident. Idris chooses her words carefully in Chaz’s presence. “That is . . . an impressive undertaking.”
Chaz looks at her. “It’s . . . okay. You . . . can say it.”
Idris raises her eyebrows at Chaz. “I really don’t know what to say. You’re here, sir, so there is obviously more to Earth than most of us realize.”
“Commander Chaz is a commissioned officer and former Naval Aviator,” Dev says. “He currently pilots civilian atmospheric transports. Chaz and a group of other Earth pilots are going to train to fly our TransAt fighters.”
The wry smile returns on Idris’s face. “That sounds like an adventure not to be missed.”
“The Flight Admiral himself granted me clearance to press any personnel for this. But I’ll ask, would you be interested?”
“A billet on Earth? I’d be delighted,” she says sincerely. “I haven’t been anywhere in years.” Idris looks out the window. “Plus, the climate here doesn’t agree with me anymore.”
“Excellent,” Dev says. “Chaz and I are heading back to Earth today to scout locations for the base and begin vetting candidates. We have to lay the ground work first, but plan on a transfer in just under a year.”
“Which fighters will you be using?”
“Class I.”
Idris nods. “And who is your LOGIC?”
“Joss,” Dev replies. “Tan’s working Constructs.”
“You three are still the stuff of legend here, you know.”
Dev answers, somewhat ashamed. “Yeah, I know.”
“Are you planning on training them on Bellerophon or Trieste?”
“Trieste,” Chaz interjects, with labored breath.
Idris looks at Chaz and smiles. She knows how hard it is for new arrivals to cope on Bellerophon. “I’d say you get used to it, but you won’t believe me,” Idris says with compassion. “No one ever does until it happens.”
“I’ll send you a cable on our progress,” Dev tells her. “Meanwhile, I better get Chaz back into normal gravity before he collapses.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander Chaz,” Idris says, saluting him.
Chaz manages a somewhat shaky salute. “You . . . too . . . Leftenant.”
Dev eases the fighter out of Bellerophon’s atmosphere in a gentle climb to reduce the g-loading on Chaz and make the ride more bearable for him. Chaz feels the gravity reducing to normal just as they leave orbit.
“Oh, that’s better,” Chaz says, pulling off his O2 mask. He takes a couple of deep, cleansing breaths. “That was horrible.”
“You do get used to it.”
“Pass.” Chaz stretches out his arms and flexes his fingers. “I feel like I just escaped from a vise grip.�
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Dev reaches down pulls a cylinder from the center pedestal lower sidewall. “Drink this.”
Chaz reaches for the cylinder, but just as it was difficult to move his arms on Bellerophon, now his tendency is to over control them. Dev leans slightly out of the way. His second attempt to take the cylinder is a success. “What is it?”
Dev smiles at Chaz’s difficulties. “Water and electrolyte compounds. Your muscles are decompressing. This will help with the soreness.”
“I’m not sore.”
“You will be if you don’t drink it.” Dev says. “And, by the way, even though the bulk of the training will be done on Trieste, you and whomever else we recruit will be spending six weeks on Bellerophon.”
“Ugh,” Chaz grumbles at the thought. “It’s not worth it. Let the Yeti have Earth.”
Dev laughs. “You’ll thank me later.”
Chaz is defiant, “No, I won’t.”
Dev makes light of Chaz’s misery. “Think you’re recovered enough to fly?”
Chaz smiles. “You bet!”
“Very well, you have command. Fly me home.”
Chaz takes the stick and flies a little erratically while he acclimates to the most recent change in gravity. A few minutes later, he seems his old self again, and his arms and hands are responding properly. He holds his throttle hand up and drums his fingers in the air and considers these new experiences and looks at Dev. “There is way more to this than just flying.”
Dev nods. “Yes, sir. Learning to cope with different gravities is just one of those things.”
Chapter 24
Second Star To the Right
Dev allows Chaz to pilot the fighter through reentry and into the Tertian atmosphere. Reminiscent to the simulator flight, but strikingly different because this is the real deal. Chaz’s first experience as a true astronaut-pilot is something he will never forget. Just amazing.
As they descend toward the oceanic coastline, Dev assumes command before their course takes them over populated land again. No sightseeing for Chaz, however, as he tries to take in as much information on their approach as he can. A few minutes later, they descend down over the arrivals pad at Port Admiralty. Dev hover taxis toward a designated parking ramp in a different, and much older section of the astroport, once part of the ancient fortress abutting to the ocean. Chaz is about to ask about the change of venue, but then sees a Recon ship parked on a nearby pad and notices Dev’s Range Rover on the tarmac next to it. There are numerous personnel tending to both the Recon ship and the truck. Dev sets down on a pad built into an old battlement along the sea wall.
Fighter secured and shut down, Dev hands over the fighter’s electronic logbook to a ground crewman and briefs him on the ship’s status, noting the intakes probably need to be cleaned of obsidian ash. Dev and Chaz depart on foot across the tarmac toward the nearby Recon ship, returned from Lyra. The wide boarding ramp is open, as are several maintenance panels along the hull. The ship is tended to by various TECHOs and Tech-Es (Tech-enlisted crew) standing on elevated platforms. Dev’s Range Rover has attracted a lot of attention from several people. Someone obviously managed to drive it out of the ship. Several cargo boxes are stacked on the tarmac next to the truck.
Dev is approached by a Supply Officer with a pad. After a salute and introduction, he begins a discussion of the ship’s inventory and requested materials. Chaz meanders towards the Range Rover, where Leftenant Bross is on hand tending to the cargo boxes. He notices Chaz and salutes him, then takes a shiny gold device from his pocket.
“Good day, Commander Ronaldi. Your new interlink device, sir.”
“Hello, Bross.” Chaz looks to see Bross has just handed him an iPhone. “I have an iPhone.”
“Our technicians are calling these Ti-Phones, Commander.”
“Ti-Phone . . . Oh, I get it, Tertian-iPhone.” Chaz looks over the device and in particular its casing and metal parts. “Is this made of gold?”
“Yes, sir.” Bross nods.
“A golden iPhone. Somehow this does not surprise me.”
Dev signs the requisition pad and then approaches Chaz and Bross. Bross hands an identical gold Ti-Phone to Dev, who turns it over and is impressed by how it looks. “This came out great!” He then explains to Chaz, “I had our Tech Division make these up using my iPhone as a model. It works just like your old one, but these have some advanced features. Oh, and you won’t have to charge the battery for ten years or so.”
“Wow.” Chaz looks at Bross. “Can I import the data from my old phone?”
“Yes, sir, just touch the new device to your old one.”
Chaz pulls his iPhone from his flight suit pocket and does as Bross instructs. The Ti-Phone chirps a few times. “How long will it take?”
“That was it, sir.”
Chaz looks at his old phone and sees it is now completely reset to factory settings. He swipes open the screen on the new Ti-Phone and sees it looks just like normal, complete with the lock-screen picture of him and Dev in Australia. Chaz’s personal settings seem present, along with all his music, photos, and movies. “Very cool.”
“Sir, if you no longer have use for the original, our technicians would like to have it. They dismantled the Commander’s device, but would like to keep this one fully intact.”
Chaz hands Bross the original. “Sure, Bross, all yours.”
Bross addresses Dev. “There are ten additional silver-clad devices in the small cargo box, sir.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Leftenant.”
Chaz looks at Dev. “How’s the other stuff work?”
“I’ll show you on the way to Earth,” Dev says. “But just swipe left from the lock screen to access the advanced features.”
Chaz presses the home button and then swipes, counterintuitively, to the left. The lock-screen picture dissolves, and the screen fills with Tertian icons. He presses the side button to close the screen and then turns the phone around. “Gold?” he says, flashing the shiny finish back at Dev and speaking discreetly. “Do you even know the meaning of low-profile?”
“You and I are the only men in the universe with gold iPhones from Hercules.”
Chaz considers this tidbit. “I guess can live with that.”
A single Class I TransAtmospheric fighter sitting on a transport pallet arrives by a ground tug to be positioned alongside the Recon ship.
“Are we taking that with us?”
“Yes, we are,” Dev replies. “They’ll mate it to the hull for transport.”
Chaz watches the tug and fighter roll by. “That’s the Class I?”
“It is,” Dev confirms.“The positron generator is that module on the aft section between the upper engine pylons.”
Chaz notices the fighter has the four stars of Oasis painted on its tail fins, along with the number 01. “Looks like you have a new fighter, Commander.”
“Those stars look good.” Dev smiles. “First time ever the stars of Oasis appear on our stuff.”
Chaz snaps a picture of the tail fin with his Ti-Phone as it passes. They watch as the ground crew disconnects the tug and manually push the pallet under the Recon ship midway down the belly, well aft of the seam for the open boarding ramp. One of the Techs activates a control pad, and the ventral hull plating of the recon ship shimmers briefly and then suddenly indents, forming the mirror contours of the upper surface of the fighter.
“Whoa,” Chaz says. “What happened?”
“Watch.”
The pallet slowly raises the fighter toward the Recon ship. The ground crew work in concert to guide the fighter carefully upward until it nearly connects. One crewman in the front gives a twirling hand signal to keep the ship moving upward. He slows his motion as it nears the hull and finally gives a closed fist sign to hold lifting. Another crewman activates some kind of internal mechanical linkage, which retracts the fighter snug against the lower hull of the Recon ship, and the mating is complete.
“That is very cool,” Chaz says. “Can you a
ccess the fighter from inside the Recon ship?”
“Of course,” Dev replies. “The ships are truly mated, meaning we can refuel the fighter underway. We can even fire up the fighter’s engines to drive the Recon ship if we have to.”
“That’s cool. I’m glad we’ll have some firepower available,” Chaz says.
“Yes, just in case any Yeti get through the perimeter.”
“Is the Recon ship armed?”
“It has a single cannon, but against a Brigand . . .”
Chaz nods. “Gotcha.”
Chaz and Dev approach the Range Rover. An open air vehicle bearing the Admiralty crest arrives with two more cargo boxes; one large, one small. The crewmen load to these new boxes onto the ship. They appear to be very heavy.
“What’s that?” Chaz says.
“Your Dreamliner,” Dev says.
“Huh?”
“I reported our intention to buy an aircraft, so the Admiralty Exchequer thought we should replenish those funds in the Swiss account.”
“Apparently he knows your spending habits,” Chaz laughs. “So what did he send?”
“Coins and gold bars.”
“Coins?” Chaz says with confusion. “Earth coins?”
“Yeah. They were brought back a couple of centuries ago, so they should be worth a fortune. The gold ingots are from Hercules.”
“Guess we’re making a stop in Zurich, then?”
“At some point, yes.”
Chaz references the stacks of cargo boxes being loaded in the ship. “That’s a lot of boxes. Are they all filled with gold?”
“No, just the two. The other boxes are ancillary supplies. Sidearm chargers, and stuff we’ll need later on for the base. We call it a pre-supply.”
“Good idea. Say, how long before we’ll be in voice contact with Earth?” Chaz says.
“It should take about four days to get there. Voice contact will be about a day out, but there’s a pretty small window for that.”
“How come?”
“We can’t transmit voice comms too close to Earth without risking detection.”