by C J Klinger
In the last twenty-two years, the CSF had completed forty percent of their goal of surveying everything within 500 light years. Where the volume of space for the thirteen planets of the CSF was 2,356 CLY’s, the volume of space in a 500 light year sphere was a staggering 36,814,453 cubic light years. That space contained almost two million stars and countless numbers of planets, moons and smaller satellites.
In their surveys, the CFS ships had identified three sentient life forms in various stages of early development. Now, apparently, another sentient life form had been detected, a human life form. Admiral Dexter could not think of any explanation for an alien species to be speaking the ancient earth language, Latin. The early analysis of the discovery suggested the newly discovered sentients were probably one of the three colony ships lost in transit during Earth’s early efforts to colonize the stars. That information would not be included in the survey summary to be given to Representative Franklyn.
For Admiral Dexter, the issue was trust. Thirty-eight years earlier, Earth had attempted to steal the secret of the IS-Drive from Commander Jonathon McKinnah on his first visit to the colonists’ mother-world. It had taken fifteen years and a war with an outside alien force to create even a minimum working relationship between the newly formed Constitution Confederation of Planets and the Terran Federation. It had taken another twenty-three years for Earth to shed all vestiges of the Industrial Council that had ruled the planet for a hundred years. Now that they had a democratically elected government, the Terran Federation had qualified to become the newest member of the CSF, a confederation of human worlds.
Admiral Dexter knew that trust had to start from both sides at the same time. He readily confessed to having difficulty trusting the Terrans. It was not that evil men now ran the Terran Federation, it was their size. The Terran Federation had a combined population of thirty billion people. The thirteen planets of the CIP had a combined population of two billion people. If it had not been for the licensing of the IS-Drive to Earth for commercial use in a trade for weapons during the Muhyba Wars, Earth would have collapsed for lack of raw material. Earth needed to find space for its excess population. The choices of where to go were either to migrate to an existing CIP world or migrate to a suitable, unpopulated world. Simple logistics dictated that in twenty years of unfettered migration from the Terran Federation, the colony worlds would be overwhelmed by the poor and needy from Earth. The CSF’s survey of habitable planets would open the doors to the second option.
“We did all the work, and they’ll reap the benefits,” The admiral thought, succinctly capsulizing his dilemma. Then there was the Terran Federation’s own secret search of deep space. It was not designed to enhance the knowledge of their stellar neighborhood; they were in pursuit of a specific target more than 2,000 light years away. While it was possible to make such a jump in an instant, the trepid explorers had to first take many small jumps to survey the path. Only then could they establish the necessary coordinates to make a two thousand light year jump. It had taken the Terran Federation almost twenty years of trial and error to map a path to the mysterious signals coming from a star further out in the Orion-Cygnus galactic arm.
The Orion Spur was a cluster of stars positioned between two of the larger galactic spirals, the Sagittarius and Perseus Arms that made up the Milky Way Galaxy. These and other massive strings of stars and interstellar dust spiraled away from the galactic center to form a giant spiral wheel containing billions of suns and planets. Many small clusters of stars similar to the Orion cluster occupied the vast spaces between the more massive galactic arms. All of the worlds within the CSF were positioned in the center of the Orion-Cygnus cluster.
The admiral’s distrust of the Terran Federation was reinforced by their failure to include any details about their secret space exploration program during the final stages of admitting the Terran Federation to the CSF. “Trust,” the admiral thought, “Begins with honesty.” He made a decision and signaled his aide. When Ben answered, he said, “Send a signal packet to Captain McKinnah asking him to stop by my office on his return to Newhope.”
“Yes sir, Admiral,” Ben answered, wondering what his boss was up to now.
The admiral resumed his inspection of the field. The massive dreadnaught, the CSF Andromeda was due to lift off at any moment. Any admiral worth his salt would not miss such an event. Right on schedule the big ship lifted off silently and rotated on its axis. With increasing speed, it headed up toward the atmospheric boundary and freedom.
Chapter 3
Government Center, Earth
Hector Andreas Gavito rotated the holographic display revealing the survey results from the TFS North Star. This report contained the latest information on the position and movements of every object in a ten light year sphere. Collectively, the many reports gathered over twenty years revealed a safe path to the distant star, Alpha-Tau-Alpha, the mysterious source of undecipherable transmissions 2,000 light years from Earth. Unfortunately, the track was not complete; the Talo AI aboard the Terran Federation survey ship had reached the limits of its memory, or at least that’s what the computer was telling them. Hector had his doubts. All Talo AI’s on all Federation ships were supplied by the CSF. Their use was strictly limited to non-military activities outside the solar system. Thirty years of effort to crack the secret of the Talo computers by the best minds on Earth had failed to reveal the mystery of the IS-Drive or even the Talo’s operating codes.
It was beyond Hector’s comprehension of how a group of new scientist on a backward world like Islandia could have developed such a sophisticated AI system and an Interstellar FTL drive. Like many other people in the Terran government, he suspected the colonists had received help from an alien visitor. The best proof of that was the android that had accompanied Commander Jonathon McKinnah thirty-eight years earlier. Hector had reviewed the visual records of those visits repeatedly looking for clues to the android’s identity. His conclusion was the android was an avatar for an advanced civilization that had decided to intervene and assist the struggling colonist on Islandia. Pity they hadn’t landed on Earth.
From everything the Terran intelligence services had been able to gather, there had only been two androids, one always in the company of Commander Jonathon McKinnah and the other assigned to his wife, Captain Marcia McKinnah. On the commander’s first visit to Earth, his android had been detained by the Industrial Council and subsequently destroyed when it had self-detonated, killing a good portion of the Industrial Council leadership at the same time. When Commander McKinnah returned ten years later, a new android had taken the destroyed one’s place. The Islandians claimed to have manufactured the androids at their labs in Gruenwald. Every effort to place a mole inside those labs had been thwarted as soon as the mole was anywhere near the facility.
Both of the elder McKinnahs had retired from active duty and they, along with their androids had not been seen in public for several years. According to the CSF, they were on a “multi-year mission to explore the universe.” By Hector’s estimation, the pair was in their mid to late seventies. Even with the advances in geriatric care, that was not a prime age for a multi-year mission to explore the universe.
Hector focused his attention on the CSF’s program to map every object within 500 light years of Newhope, their capital world. It was one of the most exciting benefits of joining the CSF. The Terran government would soon have full access to all the coordinates painstakingly gathered during years of meticulous research. It would be a priceless asset in Earth’s thousand-year struggle to reduce its population. No one in the Terran Federation Government really believed it was possible to relieve Earth’s overall population solely by emigration. The numbers were just too large, but if they could reduce the numbers in the least productive segment of the population, the rest would breathe easier. Those same people were the segment with the higher than sustainable birth rate. They would also be the most eager to accept an opportunity to improve their lot by migrating to a pioneer wo
rld.
Hector was the Cabinet Secretary of a government agency with the ubiquitous title, “The Department of Future Public Welfare.” Most citizens would be amazed at the size and scope of his department. The mandate he had received from Secretary General Dong Chen twenty years ago and renewed by every Secretary-General since was simple; Find a way to reduce Earth’s population and discover the secret of the FTL drive. The two goals were not incompatible. Strict birth control was part of the answer, but not the only solution. When coupled with a systematic migration program to reduce certain segments of the population and at the same time create satellite economies to provide food and raw materials to the mother world, they could at least obtain population parity. A working FTL drive was an essential requirement to make it work.
The primary purpose of the twenty-year effort to reach Alpha-Tau-Alpha was to obtain an FTL drive from a source other than the CSF. Since the dawn of human civilization, reports of unidentified flying objects had been recorded, first in stone and later in electronic detection devices. These sightings had ceased abruptly when the Islandians had achieved FTL flight, but enough evidence had been gathered to strongly suggest the source of these UFOs was in the vicinity of a distant star called Alpha-Tau-Alpha, 2,000 light years from Earth. Whoever the aliens were, they apparently had a working FTF drive. The Terran government intended to negotiate with the aliens to acquire their FTL technology.
That plan was now being thwarted by a Talo AI supplied by the CSF. Just when they were getting close, the Talo AI claimed it had run out of computer memory space. Was the computer’s memory limitation a fact, or was it a conspiracy? Hector intended to find out. He pressed his intercom button, a relic from another time to signal his secretary, a human secretary, which was another archaic idea he thoroughly enjoyed. When the shapely young woman entered his office, he said, “Find Commander Masterson and have her report to my office.”
When his secretary had left, Hector rotated his chair and looked out the window of his 200th-floor office. He smiled for the first time that day and remembered a Shakespeare quote, “All’s fair in love and war.”
Chapter 4
Geisel Shipyards, Fairworld
Captain Jonathon McKinnah, III, Jon to his friends inspected his new command, a Grade One Frigate. He had been at the shipyards since the first day of construction, and now after ninety days, he was about to assume control of the 110-meter long ship. The launching ceremony was scheduled to happen in five days. After that, any design deficiencies were the problem of the CSF Space Force. Jon’s crew of fifty was busy checking every part of the ship plus all the systems against the specs to make sure the Space Force got the ship it had ordered.
“She looks mighty clean, Sir,” Jon’s second in command said when they met in the command center.
“Yes she does,” Jon said in agreement. “I think having the entire crew here for the full ninety days was a good decision. Nobody knows the individual workstations better than the crew members who will operate them.”
Lieutenant P. J. Burns nodded her head in agreement. “I’m not sure the Geisel work crew would agree with you, Captain, we were in their way a good part of the time.”
Jon laughed and said, “Yes, but Geisel’s management will be happy when they don’t get any chargebacks.”
The two officers stood silently contemplating the flight activities with the new concept, combat center. Instead of the traditional layout of stations arrayed against the bulkheads, the new design was circular with all critical stations located around a central holographic display. Each station would have individual screens slightly below eye level, but all of them could see the main holographic display. The stations included operations, combat situations, weapons, life support, engineering, navigation, and communications. Only the captain and the XO could change the central display. The XO sat in the operations chairs and ran the ship based on the captain’s orders. The captain sat in a slightly elevated command chair and managed all combat activities.
The ship was new in other ways as well. Grade One Frigates were considered the tip of the spear. They were the first to be sent into hostilities and were expected to deliver a lethal blow, one that would discourage any enemy from advancing further into CSF space. Fortunately, no hostilities had occurred since the Muhyba War had ended twenty-three years earlier, but that war had taught the Confederation to expect the unexpected when encountering an alien species. The Muhyba swarming tactic and hordes of small individual attack ships had almost overrun the infant Confederation. Jon’s grandfather, Jonathon McKinnah had been the commander-in-chief during that war and his father, Jonathon James McKinnah, Jr. had been the captain of an earlier version of the ship Jon was to command.
Jon asked his XO, “Are all the weapons aboard?”
“The last batch will be on board by second watch tomorrow,” she answered promptly. Lieutenant P. J. “Penny” Burns matched her boss in height, 202 centimeters. Where Jon’s hair was blonde-brown, Penny’s was raven black. Both were cut to military lengths. Her complexion was a shade darker than Jon’s, and her blue eyes seemed out of place. Jon’s were dark pools and unreadable. They had kidded each other in the past about trading eye colors because blue eyes went with Jon’s coloration and certainly dark eyes would have suited Penny’s hair and complexion. They were both graduates of the academy and as good friends as the difference in rank would allow them to be.
“I’m anxious to see the PBW Gun in action,” Penny said as she checked the weapons console. The Particle Beam Weapon was a new enhancement from the labs at Gruenwald. During the Muhyba wars, the Confederation had been surprised by the small, Muhyba scout ships’ ability to carry highly effective, electric rail guns that fired electrically charged projectiles. Their secret was an energy storage technology unknown to humans that allowed the small ships to store a large charge to power their weapons. Gruenwald had taken the technology one step further and used it to power particle beam weapons. Jon’s new ship had a low profile rotating turret on the top and bottom of the hull that carried two PBW guns, a long range gun for targets up to 1,000 kilometers away and a rapid-fire gun for close-in defense.
Jon too was just as anxious to see the new guns in action. “We’ll get our chance soon enough on the shakedown cruise.”
Jon’s communicator chirped, and he looked at the message with a frown on his face. “Wow, this is unusual. I’m supposed to report to Admiral Dexter’s office when we get back to Newhope,” Jon read aloud.
“Our next assignment?” Penny asked.
“I assure you, Penny the Commander in Chief of the Space Force does not take the time to hand out assignments to lowly captains,” Jon said, wondering what the highest-ranking admiral in the space force could possibly want with him.
“I guess you’re in trouble then,” Penny said with a straight face. “It must have been that loud, off-key singing at the pub the other night. What the hell kind of song was that anyway?”
Jon took her kidding with a smile. He did not often socialize with the people in his crew, but it had been a special occasion, his birthday, and the crew had shanghaied him to celebrate. A ship was a small confined space and the crew needed to know they had a reasonable man in charge, not an automaton that would risk their lives without consideration of the cost. The captain’s singing a bawdy song was a sign he was human, even though he was still the captain.
“I’ll have you know that was a Clanboat rowing chant,” he explained in a mock huff. “My grandfather sang that when he was an oar boy on a clanboat.”
Everyone in the crew was well aware of the legends surrounding the captain’s grandfather, Commander Jonathon McKinnah, Senior. Penny had heard all the stories like every other cadet in the academy. Some she knew had to be exaggerations. Who fought battles with a bow and arrow? The fact that he had started the CSF singlehandedly was undisputable. Penny also knew how hard Jon tried not to take advantage of his association with his grandfather and father, who had also served as commander-in-chi
ef. He wanted to create a career from his own endeavors. From what she had witnessed so far, he was perfectly capable of doing just that. In spite of her captain’s effort to disassociate himself from his predecessors, there was no question he was deeply honored to bear the McKinnah name.
True to the Lieutenant's promise, all weapons were loaded and fully armed by the end of the second shift on the following day. The new CSF Frigate, yet to be named was now a fully functioning warship of the Confederation of Independent Planets. All she needed now was thirty days of training to give her already experienced crew an opportunity to practice with the ship’s new weapons. At the end of those thirty days, Jon’s spaceship would be one of the most powerful warships within 500 light years.
Later, Jon was working in his wardroom when the ship’s com officer announced he had a call from his father, Admiral Jonathon James McKinnah, Jr., retired. His dad was a true hero of the Muhyba wars. His heroic action had not only saved Jon’s grandmother and grandfather in a ground battle with Muhyba warriors, but he had also singlehandedly destroyed a large portion of the enemy fleet in the battle of Sigma Draconis. If Jon had a role model, his father was it. He idolized the man.