by Ken Pence
About the Author
Ken R. Pence, PhD is an engineering professor at Vanderbilt University and an active martial artist, a 5th degree blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do. He is a retired captain from the Metro Nashville Police Department where he served 31 years (16 on SWAT) and has taught police and military in the US, and Europe (England, Germany, France, and Northern Ireland) in confrontation management skills.
He researches advanced sniper location systems for DARPA and is currently investigating inexpensive magnetic levitation.
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A Certain Expertisé
© 2012 by Ken R. Pence
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without email permission of the author.
ASIN: B008Q27BCE eBook
ISBN 978-1478314486 Print
Printed in US
PROLOGUE
This is a work of fiction. Any semblance to real people and events is purely coincidental and characters do not represent any living persons. A Certain Expertisé shows our young race suddenly moving into deep space. Empires had existed before us but we had come from the fringe of the galaxy and the older races were near the core. Some races progressed slowly even though they were much older due to their bureaucracy. Others appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye. We were currently leaving a mark on our galactic arm through our trade and rediscovered ancient technology.
We have overcome local competition and are probing deeper toward our galaxy Core. We are searching for the creators of the molecular circuitry that can improve electronics or form intelligent machines. We are also struggling with our humanity and facing political jockeying at home due to radical changes in longevity, energy availability, and mobility. A society’s standard of living is based on the average energy available to individuals, and ours has just increased by orders of magnitudes.
The new power sources and alien influences may be a bit much for Earth should we even survive the tourists and traders. The more advanced species that are further inward on the spiral arm are another kettle of fish altogether.
Major Characters
Andrew Williams – Captain of Earth’s first star ship
Tod Schroeder – a physicist because of the dead cat
Desiree Bardeen – Linguist -- Martial artist – wife of Tod
Eugene Bradley Phillips - capitalist left @ Bellatrix
Susan Kama Siriluk – Materials specialist – wife of Andrew
Ling Tanaka – psychologist/biologist/psychiatrist
Fran Bergdal – environmental scientist and wife of Brad
Joel Fredrickson – Mechanical Engineer – fabrication
Steve Cutcher – electronics/IT/circuits
Admiral Bradford Kyger– Earth Regulatory Force
Rett – Tros scientist/Inventor
LeiLei – Lemsla (feline-like) female – mate of Joel
Shiv – Vicvic (Mantis) female
Lee Post – Post Ylee Lamlee construct being
Shuma – Bellatrix scientist - inventor of the Maker
Xilatoi – knowledge master of the Phafalotoi
Will Castellano – ERF Lt Commander assigned Bellatrix
Umma – Exploration Service Cruiser Captain
Donald Beasley – head of mission diplomat to Bellatrix
Cetosme – Allung Master Arbitrator on the Council
Lamlee – molecular circuitry with telepathic assembly – used as currency in some areas of the galaxy – improves function of electronic devices if applied properly.
Eugene Bradley
Eugene Bradley Phillips had not been idle since being abandoned on Bellatrix. The 91-year-old had the lithe body of a 35-year-old after a rejuvenation treatment. He had asked his Earth “kidnappers” to leave him on Bellatrix – “throw me in the briar patch,” Phillips thought. They didn’t want him with them but he had seen the obvious. The aliens they had encountered did not know how to be a proper host…at least according to Earth five star hotel and restaurant standards. The Exploration Service trade manuals had laid out the requirements for a huge variety of alien species. The manuals had laid out the ideal conditions for each species and admonished readers to try to approximate the ideal environmental conditions for visiting aliens.
The manuals left out so much. It had not taken Phillips long to conduct the first marketing research on Bellatrix. He had visited local bars and restaurants to see what his prospective clients would want, if these aliens could get it. He had set out to get it for them. He had first purchased and demolished a large building near the center of the capital city – near the embassy. He had it rebuilt using local spray concrete and arranged liberal wiring and environmental access. He could totally manipulate the gravity, lighting spectrum, humidity, atmosphere, acoustics, and security environment of each suite or section of suites. He contracted with local greenhouses to raise plants from a number of worlds for the interior. His marketing team gleaned Marmut art and Earth entertainment complements. Each suite had access to showers, baths, sand pits, pools, alcoves, breeze generators, sky simulations and the like.
Phillips was trying for the holodeck comparison from old science fiction shows – it wasn’t a bad comparison. His new, hotel restaurant was initially a disaster. Food was mediocre at best and that wouldn’t do. Luckily, Phillips had made friends with the Marcle captain of the Queen – the liberated slave ship that had been converted to a luxury liner. The Marcle had directed him to an obscure cult that believed in reaching nirvana through food – well – that’s what it seemed like to Phillips. They produced a kitchen staff that could proselytize their religion to a whole new array of species. They were damn good chefs – fast, competent and willing to adapt – thank God, or Annapuma – the Hindu goddess of cooking – or whatever was their equivalent. Their food was great and the cult – Phillips chefs – really latched on to reasonable facsimiles of Earth dishes. Earth dishes and drinks were going to be a specialty and Phillips was going to make sure any guests paid the transport, setup costs – plus some. This hotel’s rates weren’t going to be for pikers.
The grand opening was slated for next week. Phillips had invited the civilian embassy staff and local dignitaries for a trial run a few days prior. A lot of the wine had evidently been diverted and Phillips had had trouble, keeping the staff from taking souvenirs themselves. Evidently, there was a brisk black market in diverted hotel merchandise. Phillips had been without mercy on staffers that were caught and his draconian enforcement measures had paid off as less and less was – diverted. He had acquired a sizable security apparatus. He wasn’t about to get kidnapped again if he could help it. His nearby restaurants and bars were making him filthy rich – again. He considered it heaven to start a business without licenses, taxes, blue laws – except – there were weird restrictions on gambling on Bellatrix – though drugs, sex, liquor – no problem. Child labor, no problem – just don’t gamble or they’d rain on your parade? Whatever…each culture enforces its particular insanity. Phillips pushed the envelope on that while calling it entertainment and the locals were left scratching their heads in consternation.
***
Will Castellano, Earth Regulatory Force lieutenant commander, had been left at the new Earth Embassy on Bellatrix. He was in charge of the security contingent. There had been no contact with Earth for the last two months and Castellano felt like he was being left swinging in the wind. Locals, with a scary problem, had approached him. Seems like some real heavy hitters had been buying up Earth products and stealing what they couldn’t buy. They had gotten their hands on an English language cylinder and many brochures about Earth. They had killed one local and left him hanging where he had been…questioned. They meant business and were heavily armed. The local reporting this heard…”they weren’t sure of the strength of the embassy to a space based attack and heard them say they would be back with ships (plural). That didn’t sound good.
Th
e locals here had heard of embassies but had never really formalized the concept. The fact that this land belonged to Earth was something that he had had to shove into the head (couldn’t always say face) of many creatures that thought they had the right to visit, to inspect, to tax, or to investigate anything at the embassy at any time. Will’s personnel would set them straight...often by physically picking them up and carrying them a discrete distance from the entrance. This treatment of locals had caused a concerted effort by a business cabal to hinder the Earth personnel from acquiring a small space hull – or any other business ventures. The cabal’s hindrance had been thwarted by the huge financial resources the Earth personnel had been amassing by selling NuRiz, the nearly indestructible paper substitute that allowed color printing. The Earth entertainment technologies were also extremely profitable. Small 3-D video game projectors had become the rage and they had sold out the last shipments. The locals hadn’t quite mastered their manufacture yet though they could play them.
The newly acquired space hull had been retrofitted with Earth propulsion, navigation, weapons, defenses, and communication. The last shipment from Earth had brought several quantum-entanglements, communication systems; so, the new ship, christened the Osprey, could message the embassy or select Earth registry ships if they were within 100 lightyears. A new transponder was also installed on the frigate class warship.
The waste disposal system for the ship had been discovered at Eridani and had been successfully mated with a new invention. The Bellatrix scientist, Shumatralla, Shuma for short, had constructed a device that could convert elemental hydrogen into almost any other element. He was enjoying the notoriety his invention had caused. His going from being academically ostracized to celebrated status hadn’t gone to his head. He was turning into an outsourced research arm of the Earth embassy civilian staff. He was working to further develop his device to produce complex molecules plus a hundred little side projects. The idea of turning waste into hydrogen and then into useful elements would prove a boon for supplies on a long mission. He had gravitated to the Earth team on Bellatrix because they were ones that encouraged his work and appreciated all its nuances.
Osprey’s First Flight
While the captain of the converted slave ship, the Queen, was directing the luxury liner to Earth, the ERF Osprey, was undergoing shakedown trials around Bellatrix. The Osprey was a converted hull that had been retrofitted with all Earth, and Bellatrix, had to offer. The lieutenant commander from the embassy on Bellatrix, Will Castellano, commanded the ship because the Earth Regulatory Force was spread so thin. The ship had a skeleton crew but only required a crew of six to function. The Bellatrix scientist, Shuma, was aboard, constantly fiddling with his mass converter. There was little margin of error with only six crewmembers but they had gone so long with so few that it seemed almost the normal way to do business.
They were still in the Bellatrix system when the navigator alerted Castellano.
“Sir, we have three unknowns inbound pretty fast. They are much faster and larger than normal freighters,” the navigator stated before Castellano could answer. “Sir, they must have detected us because they’ve changed course to intercept.”
“Bring us to battle stations ensign,” Castellano said and wondered why things never could just go easy. “Let’s see what they want.” The crew rushed into their suits and awaited the arrival of the three ships.
***
.
The captain of the Exploration Service had seen the new ship near Bellatrix. He had been sent to investigate reports that Earth had set up an embassy on the planet and were building warships. It was convenient that the ship they were investigating was out here so conspicuously lurking around the planet. There had also been a report that pirate scouts had been snuffling around this sector.
He’d see about their unchecked imperialism. You have to stifle seedlings before they grow. He thought he could easily handle this small Earth ship with his cruiser since all three of his ships out-massed the little frigate class ship.
***
Castellano was thinking furiously. I can outrun them but what type of impression would that create? They are probably Exploration Service. They will want to board – no way, that is happening. Nowhere to run to but the surface and that’s not happening. Well – a strong defense is a strong offense. “Hail them Sparks. Welcome them to Bellatrix and invite them to visit us tomorrow at the embassy. Offer them lodging at the Eugene at our expense tonight. That will make that slug Phillips happy too. Send them a Care Basket Mister Oakley.”
***
“Captain,” the communications officer of the ES ship said, “I identified our ships as Exploration Service to them and demanded they identify themselves. The ship identified itself as the Earth Regulatory Force Osprey.”
“They do not deny it then,” stated the Captain.
“Captain, they’ve offered to pay for our stay at the Eugene. That is a lodging or tavern I presume. They said they would like to welcome the Exploration Service to the neighborhood and were sending over a gift.”
“Battle stations,” the captain bellowed. “We’ll see how much sarcasm they use after this cruiser punches holes in their little ship. What are they doing now?”
“Nothing, Captain. All sensors show they are just sitting there. They don’t seem to be doing anything.”
“Prepare to fire. Wait for them to start something. This may be a quick trip.”
A few moments later, the intercom lit up from amidships. After a jangled conversation, the comm officer of the ES ship turned to the Captain and grunted to get his attention.
“Well,” said the Captain – obviously annoyed. “What is it?”
“Sir,” the crewman struggled with what to say, as he seemed embarrassed.
“Grunt it out Tros – what is it?” the Captain hated some of the Tros crew – subspecies everyone.
“There is someone banging on our airlock amidships,” said the comm officer.
“Well. Which of our other ships has the audacity to send someone to our ship without contacting us first? Turn on the outside camera and tell me who it is?”
“We turned it on sir. There is no one there!”
“Captain,” the comm officer grunted gently to get the Captain’s attention. He grunted again, “Captain. The Osprey says they have one of their crew at our airlock.”
“Impossible,” said the Captain. “Open the damn airlock after you assemble a team. Get full decontamination gear and make sure they have armor and full molecular disruptor gear. If they grunt wrong – turn them into molecules. You understand me.”
The crew acknowledged and disappeared quickly.
***
ERF Tech Seaman Oakley saw the outer airlock door cycle open and then tugged his package inside. He turned off the visibility screen on his suit and thought he had figured out how to turn off the invisibility function on the bulky pack he was carrying. Shuma had tinkered up two packs last week to transship his own pressurized cargo. He had done it for himself but the fellow was way smart, reminded Oakley of an absent-minded professor.
Hell – he knew where the controls were supposed to be but it was tough with gloves on when you couldn’t see the thing you were carrying. Where was that damn switch? He thought. Oakley could hear the atmosphere cycling and when his suit announced the atmosphere was breathable – he turned his helmet faceplate transparent.
***
The ES crew was nervous to say the least. The equivalent of the bosun aboard the ES vessel banged the camera mechanism when the outer airlock door closed and the airlock started to cycle. He banged the monitor again and a figure in a silvery suit appeared. Cheap electrics he thought. He had heard these Earthers were supposed to have some hot electric gear. He hit the monitor again and the creature’s silvery helmet was suddenly clear. He could see its flat, pink head. Yukk. Wonder why our cameras weren’t showing this creature earlier? Cheap Tros junk…
***
Oakley decided it wa
s best to keep his suit field turned on to be in case the ship’s crew overreacted. Commander Castellano had emphasized that he should be on his best behavior – what translated as best to aliens – he didn’t have a clue. The inner door opened and five aliens: a couple of Tros, an Ullumff and some other species were holding molecular disruptors pointed at him and they were in the gall-darndest looking pressure suits you ever saw. They looked like some parents had caught a bunch of teenagers doing something naughty at a Halloween party and they had thrown on the nearest costume. “Hello. I bring gifts for you from Earth,” he said, in Trade, in Tros, and then in Ullumff. Oakley grinned when he saw the disruptors because he knew they couldn’t harm him.
The senior looking of the five aliens spoke in Tros and said, “Do not even grunt unless I tell you. Take off that helmet.”
Tech Seaman Oakley removed his helmet and put it under one arm. He still hadn’t made his package visible yet. It lay at his feet but wasn’t visible. “Okay. No problem,” he said. “Do you want these gifts?”
“Step inside and shut that door behind you. Move slowly. The Captain may want to talk with you.”