Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1)

by Parker, Gavin E

  Rawls picked Askel up early next morning. She had slept soundly and dreamlessly after finishing her work. The terminal had found a few minor inconsistencies and had made some very useful suggestions. She had quickly worked these into her documentation over breakfast and then showered. Her hair was still wet when Rawls commed through to tell her he was waiting downstairs. She buzzed him up.

  “Good morning,” said Rawls. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going great,” said Askel, closing the door behind her.

  “Everything’s looking good?”

  “I went through everything yesterday. I’ve got a full report, I just sent you a copy.”

  “I saw. I haven’t had chance to look at it yet. We’ve got something to take to the secretary, though?”

  “Yes, we have. It’s all doable, provided they’re willing to pick up the bill.”

  “That’s great, Askel. I knew you could do it. Can you get it down to four months?”

  “It’s down to three. And of course, as I’m sure you’re aware, there’s a massive bonus with the NFJs.”

  “I thought so,” Rawls grinned. “The poor defence secretary. She’s just a dumb civilian. I bet she hasn’t even thought about launch windows, which is a shame. She won’t realise what an incredible thing it is that we will be providing to her. But maybe for the best. If she had known, she might never have come to us in the first place.”

  Askel looked out of the window as London slid by. “I wish they were going into a civilian transport. Rather than this.”

  “In the fullness of time, Askel. This is a major coup for us. This will be a news story around the world. You can’t buy publicity like that. The whole world will be watching our ships, our engines.”

  Askel shook her head. “This is a hell of a job, Lewis. This only comes off if everything goes exactly to plan.”

  “I know. That’s why I want you to oversee it personally. Lead designer and project manager. How’s that sound?”

  Askel turned away from the window. It sounded good and terrifying. “It sounds great. When do I start?”

  “You already have.”

  They pulled into the Ministry of Defence local HQ at Whitehall, London and drove through the security checks down into the underground car park. They were escorted under military guard to the lifts, and were then whisked up to one of the higher floors. As the lift doors opened they were greeted by a huge bear of a man. He thrust a paw in their direction, beaming brightly. “General Terrence Cain, just call me Terry. Great to meet you, Mr Rawls, and you must be Ms Lund. Very excited to meet you, come this way. The teleconference will start in just over ten minutes. If there’s anything you need just let me know.”

  They nodded their ‘thank yous’ and, after the handshaking and pleasantries, followed General Cain down a series of corridors until they came to a room labelled ‘Conference Room A’. There were two armed soldiers guarding either side of the door. They snapped to attention and saluted General Cain as he approached. Cain returned the salute as automatically as he put one foot in front of the other when he walked. He held the door open and Rawls and Lund entered.

  The room was large and low-lit with no windows. It was air conditioned cool and there was bottled water and glasses on the large table that dominated the room. The far wall was blank white. That was where the images would be shown when the teleconference started, Askel guessed.

  “Please, take a seat,” said Cain. “We should have the feed from Dallas up in the next few minutes.” He seemed genuinely excited, like he had never done this sort of thing before. Maybe he hadn’t.

  Lund and Rawls took seats at the far end of the table near the screening wall. They sat on opposite sides. Cain took up a seat one down from Rawls.

  “This line is fully secure, is it?” asked Lund.

  “Oh, yes,” replied Cain. “Military grade. Literally. We’re sorry we couldn’t do this over standard coms; the secretary requested the highest levels of security.”

  “Can you patch my comdev in? There are some files I’ll need to show.”

  “Yes,” said Cain. “Can you just pass it here?” He took the comdev and held it under his own, slid his fingers about the screen and handed it back.

  “It’s Conference Room A, Screen 1,” he said.

  “Thank you,” said Lund. She fiddled with her comdev, her brow furrowed. Rawls seemed relaxed. He took a bottle of water and poured himself a glass. He took a few sips. He might have been sipping a G&T in some Mediterranean resort for all the stress he displayed.

  “Ah!” said Cain as the screen flickered to life. The head and shoulders of a woman appeared, three metres high, filling the screen. “Hello, London,” she said in a southern drawl.

  “This is London,” said Cain.

  “Hi, there. I have the secretary of defence here for you, we’ll be patching her through in just a few moments.”

  “Very good.” Cain winked at Askel.

  The screen cut to a conference room similar to the one they were seated in. The resolution was extremely high, and the three dimensional effect made it appear almost as an extension of the room they were in. Audrey Andrews was seated to the front and side of a similar conference table. About her were five or six senior staffers and assistants. A young, suited man was half leant over saying something to Andrews. She seemed to thank him as he left, walking across the screen and out of shot. Andrews looked at them. “Hello, Lewis. I see you have General Cain there.”

  “Hello, Ms Andrews!” said Cain.

  “And this must be Askel Lund.”

  “Good morning, Secretary,” said Askel.

  Andrews cut straight to it. “Ms Lund, Lewis has assured me that Helios can refit our two orbiting carriers, with engines and other necessary equipment such that we can transport them to Mars, within six months. Is that reasonable, in your opinion?”

  Askel glanced at Rawls. “I’ve looked at the figures and have come up with a preliminary plan. The plan is dependent on many factors - I’m sending you all the documentation now - but if we get all those in place I think we can deliver the modifications in three months.”

  “Three months!?”

  Askel beamed, just a little. “Yes, I think so. As mentioned, that would depend on many things. We would need some assistance cutting through some red tape and it would not be cheap. I mean, it would not be cheap anyway, but to do it quickly and safely will require a big financial commitment.”

  Andrews looked invigorated. “But in three months’ time we could set our two carriers off to Mars, if we had the will and the money to do it?”

  “That’s correct. And that’s only possible with NFJ engines.”

  “I’m sorry, what’s only possible with these engines?”

  “There are a number of papers in the tranche of documents I’ve sent over explaining it in detail, but with these engines we don’t have to wait for a launch window. As you know, with conventional chemical engines we can only launch about once every two years, during a very specific launch window.” Andrews nodded. “That is because the cost, in terms of weight of fuel, is too high at any other time. When the orbits of Earth and Mars are at just the right relative positions we can jump off the Earth, which is already moving around the Sun at about 108,000km/h, and accelerate up to a speed where we can travel to Mars within six months. We’re limited in how fast we can go by two factors. One is the weight of necessary chemical fuel and the other is our speed at arrival. If we’re going too fast the gravity of Mars won’t be strong enough to catch us when we get there. For every kilo of fuel we need to accelerate we need the same amount to brake at the other end. With conventional fuels the cost is just too high. To go fast and stop at the other end, or rather slow down to the speed necessary for orbital capture, the fuel tanks would have to be enormous - far beyond what is practical.”

  Andrews was nodding her head in all the right places, her brow furrowed with concentration. Rawls was looking content, like a proud father, and Cain was beaming li
ke he’d just received the best birthday present ever. Lund continued. “The ratio of thrust to fuel weight with a nuclear fusion jet engine is simply enormous. That means that for a trip to Mars we can accelerate to a speed far beyond what has been used up to now, because the cost in fuel weight is so low. It also means we don’t have to wait for a window when Earth and Mars are at their closest. We can go whenever we want, because we’ll have more than enough fuel left to decelerate to the necessary speed when we arrive at Mars.”

  “So three months from now, we could send the carriers off?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how long would it take them to reach Mars?”

  Askel frowned. “I think, given the current positions of the two planets, if we launched in three months’ time it would take approximately six to eight weeks to arrive in Mars orbit.”

  Andrews looked impressed. She leaned back and spoke to one of the men behind her, nodding at him as she turned back to the screen. “If we can get the funds and other resources, smooth out some of the paperwork, you can get us two carriers in orbit around Mars within five months. I’ve understood you correctly, Ms Lund?”

  “Yes, Secretary. If we start now.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for the documentation. I assume the costings are in there?”

  Rawls cut in, “Audrey, that’s the one on top of the pile.”

  Andrews smiled. “I’ll be taking this to the president. In the meantime, can you assume you have approval? Get things going?”

  Rawls puffed his cheeks.

  “If for any reason this doesn’t come off we’ll reimburse you for any losses. But we need to hit the ground running.”

  “I wouldn’t do this for anyone other than you, Audrey,” Rawls said, and chuckled to himself.

  “That’s great. Thank you for your time, we’ll speak again soon.” Andrews stood up and the screen cut back to the head and shoulders of the woman. “Dallas here, were finishing the conference at 08.47, London time, is there anything else?”

  “We’re all fine here,” said Cain. “Good morning to you, Dallas!”

  “Good morning to you too, sir, have a great day, Dallas out.” The image cut and the wall was a wall once again.

  Rawls turned to Lund. “Need a ride home?”

  “Sure. There’s a million things I need to do.”

  Rawls nodded. “And you’ll need to pack, too.”

  Askel gave him her quizzical glance.

  “Your new position. It’s based on Ephialtes.”

  Askel didn’t like spaceflight. The prospect of spending the next few months on Ephialtes filled her with a mild dread. Still, at least she would be busy. She’d hurriedly packed some things and had asked a neighbour to keep an eye on the apartment; she would be gone about three months. She’d made a few calls to a few people, letting them know she’d be gone, cancelling the odd arrangement. Then she’d taken the ride out of town in one of Rawls’ cars, which he’d sent over for her. She’d left London at dusk and now found herself heading out to Foulness Island in the growing darkness. She could see the port on the distant horizon, all glimmering lights and wisps of propellant venting off into the night.

  She was met at the port by a no-nonsense sergeant, briefed to see her aboard the bone-shaker taking her up to orbit. He was thorough and impersonal, which suited Askel just fine. She was in no mood for small talk and pleasantries. Her mind was occupied with the low-level fear of launch, overlaid with the million and one things she needed to do, check or delegate at the next opportunity.

  She had never been to Ephialtes before but it was practically the same ship as Otus, where she had spent some months soon after its float-out. She had contributed to the design of both ships, particularly in terms of their accommodation of dropships and drones. She knew the Commander Program well and she knew the dropship carrier system probably as well as anyone on the original design teams. Her AIs had done most of the design work and she had overseen the linking together of the two systems, carrier and dropship. The two great carrier ships, known together as the Aloadae, were the pinnacle of the Commander Program system. They could dispatch a fearsome fighting force anywhere in the world within hours, and with minimal notice.

  She had been moved to the NFJ project just before Ephialtes began fitting-out. It was a great opportunity to raise her stock even higher within Helios. She knew she had impressed Rawls and that he had great faith in her. She had been determined to prove him right.

  As well as the technical challenges of the NFJ project (designated Aphrodite) there were personal ones too. The project was based in Dorset, England and took Askel away from her settled home life in Kentucky. It took her away from Bobby Karjalainen. Initially, a long distance relationship seemed doable. Bobby was often posted overseas anyway. But it had put a huge strain on the relationship from the very moment Bobby had meekly responded ‘Okay’ to the proposal, rather than being taken aback like Askel had expected. Suborbital flight meant that the UK and North America were less than forty-five minutes apart, but the connecting journeys either end increased the length of the trip by a factor of ten. Over time the relationship faded and crumbled. Askel missed Bobby but she had no idea if he felt the same way. She’d noted that he hadn’t mentioned her in his book. Whether that was due to his respect for her privacy or whether he had airbrushed her from history she did not know. But he was gone. The last she heard he was truly gone - headed back to Mars.

  She checked her baggage with the sergeant and was fitted for a flight suit. She was given a medical scan, signed some papers and was then put on a bus with some other Helios personnel. She recognised some faces - many of the Aphrodite team were there, but there were some from other divisions who she did not know. One way or another they were there at her behest. She had detailed all the personnel she would need by skill and ability and here, less than forty-eight hours later, some of them were. Frantic dealing was still going on in the Helios HR and purchasing departments. It was an overtime bonanza as favours were called in, deals were struck and backs were scratched. There would be more flights like this, freight flights, too, over the coming weeks but, appropriately, Askel was at the vanguard.

  The bus ferried them to the launchpad where they got out and ascended the tower by elevator. Askel attempted some small talk with her team members but, with her mind racing from the fear of the launch and the enormity of the task at hand, she kept falling back to talking shop. She was constantly making lists in her mind and delegating tasks here and there. They got out of the elevator and were ushered across a gangway into the craft itself.

  The Heavy Lift Vehicle was a large SLSVII class rocket, the fundamental design of which had not changed in more than two hundred years, though it had been hugely refined. The cabin of the cylindrical spacecraft on top was divided into two floors. Each had around thirty seats, set out in rows and aisles like some sort of futuristic bus tipped up on its rear. The seats were large, with harnesses and ports for various life support, monitoring and coms systems. The passengers had to climb up a retractable ladder mounted in the aisle and then work their way along a small gantry above the rows to their seats. Askel worked her way to her seat in the front row on the top deck, plugged herself in, and waited.

  Coms crackled over Askel’s headset informing her that conditions were good and that launch was on schedule to proceed within fifty minutes. She was informed that a countdown was available should she wish to patch it through, but she declined. As she lay back into her chair she could feel it adjusting to accommodate every curve of her body. She absentmindedly thought about getting one for home - surely she could swing it with Rawls - but then her mind was racing again with a controlled anxiety about the project and about the flight.

  The last five minutes were the longest. She kept trying to distract herself but it didn’t work. She told herself it would be over in ten or fifteen minutes. She would be in orbit, and it would be over. Her colleague next to her tapped her on the arm and told her when it was T-1 minutes. She
nodded and smiled weakly at him, closing her eyes.

  When it began the first thing she felt was the rumble, which started powerfully and grew ever stronger. It felt and sounded like she was in a collapsing building, then there was a sudden kick in her back. It felt like one of those awful falling nightmares, except instead of falling she was rising ever faster and she didn’t wake suddenly, as much as she longed to. The incredible force and roar could hardly fail to impress, but Askel’s mind was in a place far away from such things. She was in a zone somewhere between serenity and panic, knowing that there was nothing she could do. She was committed to this and all she could do now was just be, until it was over.

  Very soon - Askel couldn’t tell if it was minutes or seconds - the violent shaking smoothed out and the incredible pressure she had felt on her body eased off. She felt the tension in her body relax a little and she started to feel light. She turned to her colleague and nodded a smile at him. He smiled back and gave her the thumbs up signal. A voice came over the com. “All passengers, following a successful launch we are now in orbit around the Earth and are due to dock with Ephialtes in approximately two hours. Please remain seated for the rest of the journey, if you have any problems we are right here for you. Thanks.”

  Askel let herself relax. It was going to be a tough three months and she thought she’d earned it.

  It was dark when Andrews reached the New Oval Office. She spoke briefly to Cortes’ personal assistant and let herself in. The lighting was low and Cortes was in his chair, turned away from the great desk of office, facing the window. At first she thought he might be asleep and she approached cautiously.

  “Thanks for coming, Audrey,” he said without turning. “Take a seat over on one of the sofas. I’ll be over in a minute.”

  “Yes, Mr President,” Andrews said, and she walked over to one of the sofas and sat down. She felt a little awkward, like she was intruding on some intensely personal moment. She was surprised when Cortes spoke again.