by Bob Mauldin
Simon stood as the first tour group returned. He realized he was frowning and tried to turn it into a smile. He came away with something less than a frown. “Ladies and gentlemen, during your tour, Commander Walker pointed out that I presented an image that was something less than ... amiable. For this I apologize. I am not used to public speaking as you have undoubtedly figured out for yourselves. It’s just that I,” he paused, looking for words, “I feel so strongly that turning this ship over to any one government or group would be the worst possible course of action for humanity. I hope you will allow me the opportunity to change that impression at another time.”
As soon as Simon finished speaking the visitors began to seat themselves at the table. One man remained standing. “I’m Adam Gardner, Captain, and personally, I’ve put up with a lot worse to work in less interesting places.” He glanced around at his companions. “Besides, Commander Miller has explained how much pressure you folks are under. She also outlined your general plans for the future. I won’t presume to speak for the others, but for me, where do I sign?” The other three were echoing Gardner’s sentiments when Kitty led her entourage into the room. He repeated his apology to the new arrivals, sat down, and looked around the table.
Spreading his hands in an all-encompassing gesture, he inquired, “Well, folks, what do you think of the Galileo?” The dam broke. Not one word of sense came out of the babble that followed.
Kitty got control of the situation by the simple expedient of tossing her notepad out into the center of the table. It landed with a sharp report, halting all conversation instantly. Gayle took the rest of the pressure off. “Commander Hawke does have a way with words, doesn’t she?”
As the laughter died down, Kitty put forth a suggestion. “How about everyone start a list of questions, comments and suggestions? We can go over them at future meetings. What I would like to do right now is get each of you outfitted with wristbands like ours.” The physical effects and general use of the transporter had been explained as well as possible by Kitty and Gayle during the tours. “One thing to remember: beam-up is not automatic. Make sure you are in a secure location. Since that place is where you will usually return to, a locked room is always good.”
Stephen found his colleagues in the briefing room getting fitted with their wristbands. As the last one was finishing up, he stepped forward. “Folks, we need to get you back to Earth.” At the shocked looks he got, he laughed out loud. “Get used to it. Those wristbands make it a fact of life. One thing of note: those bands are connected directly to the computer on board Galileo. If you wind up under too much pressure, get given something to change your basic metabolism or some such, the band will notify the computer and you will be beamed out of your situation. It is a bio-monitor, pure and simple, and lets us know your location and general situation as well. It will not automatically beam you out just for getting incarcerated or overly, shall we say, excited. Your stress levels have to go pretty high before that happens. Otherwise, you have to request a beam-out by pressing the red spot on the band. If at all possible, try to do that where the results won’t be seen since you are scientists.”
Stephen and Gayle started to lead their charges back down to the transporter room when Kitty spoke up. “There is one more item of some importance to most of you. We have found that our anonymity has been breached already. Who says our government isn’t good at its job?” A few nervous titters sounded in the room.
“Anyway,” she continued, “so far it appears that only we four, me, my husband and Commanders Miller and Walker have been identified. Make an active effort to keep your involvement unknown or you, too, will be receiving late night callers. If that should happen, and you don’t want to escape, tell ‘em everything they want to know. Tell them also that the wristbands are attuned to each specific individual. If they should figure out how to get it off without destroying it, it still won’t work. At least not as a transporter. It becomes an automatic listening device and locator beacon, but you don’t have to tell ‘em that part.” With a wicked little grin on her face at the thought, Kitty turned and headed off to find Simon.
She found him in the ready-room slumped in his chair, glaring at his notepad. “Okay, I know something’s wrong. Spill it.” She sat down beside him and grabbed a coffee cup.
He slid the notepad toward her, picked up the pot and filled her cup. “Stephen has suggested that our best course of action is to expand the plans we’ve already made. From one dock to four. In two years we can have six operational ships. That circled number is how many people we’ll need by then. Over five thousand.” Simon sat there tapping a pen on the table. “These numbers scared me for a while. “I was only in charge of forty guys. A rifle platoon, for Christ’s sake! Not even a jeep.”
Kitty leaned over and laid a hand on Simon’s arm. “I’ve never seen you quite this indecisive about anything before, Dear. You always seem to know what you want and how to go about getting it. And here you are ... dithering. What’s the worst that can happen? We could all get dead, of course, but that’s going to happen sooner or later, anyway. You’ve always told me that if you act like a boss, then people will look at you as one. Okay, you’ve set yourself up as one,” she said, her voice trembling. “So, start acting like a boss. All we’ve done is up the scale.”
Simon spent a long minute thinking over Kitty’s comment. “Okay. The only thing I can see to do is take the opportunity and run with it. I guess if we don’t pull it off, we can always give the ship to something like the United Nations rather than a single country. But I must say that you surprise me. You’re the last person I would figure to push for keeping this thing to ourselves.”
“In a perfect world, I wouldn’t,” she retorted. “But have you looked around lately? The sarin gas attacks, India and Pakistan with nuclear weapons, shit starting in the Middle East, and to top it all off, look at the similarities between Drake and Hitler. Both of them stole the leadership of their respective nations, and both of them immediately started wars. At least Drake has the dignity to not grow a mustache. He looked silly enough as it was.”
Simon looked at his wife as if she had grown a second head. “So you’ve got this all figured out, have you?”
“No,” she answered, sitting down across from him. “But I’ve got some ideas. Hell, you gave me the glue to bind it all together.”
“Me? What did I say?” Simon sounded defensive.
“Well, it was more your dream than anything else. Remember it? You said you could never forget it. One of your first nights aboard. About starting an empire.” Simon’s features got more animated as he recalled what she was talking about.
“But,” Kitty went on before he could speak, “I applied that technique you taught me to the situation. I kinda tranced out and looked at the possibilities as my mind laid them out for me, and as far into the future as I could. In most of the futures I saw, we were better off keeping the technology away from the powers-that-be down below.” She referred to a meditation technique that Simon had taught her, picked up in his travels somewhere Oriental. He had always been rather vague about just where.
Simon thought for a time, himself lost in that realm where some of the more probable futures were laid out, almost like chess moves. Cutting the visit short, he said, “I see what you mean. You realize that this means that the government is going to do whatever it takes to get possession of this ship, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kitty said, reaching out and taking Simon’s big hands in her tiny ones. “It means that since they can’t get at us, they’re going to go after those we care about. My folks are dead, but you ...” Her voice trailed off.
Simon spoke well of his mother when he spoke of her at all, but only once had he spoken of his father. An innocent question had once led to a half-hour rant that ended with a penitent look, and a heartfelt apology. And it was never repeated. Nor was mention of his father ever made again, by unspoken consent.
Now, though, things were
different. “They aren’t going to care if you hate your dad, They’re going to pick him up along with your mother and brother. Wanna bet they use the words ‘protective custody?’ You’re going to have to face him sooner or later.”
“The later, the better,” was all Simon said. Pointedly changing the subject, he said, “That thought about my old platoon is really first rate. For now though, let’s get Gayle and Stephen in here. Send for Ensign Marshall, too. And the two pilots.”
Twenty minutes later, the four ship's officers were seated around the conference table. Simon took a breath and said, “It’s time to fish or cut bait, people. I’ve been worried about personnel, but I’m going to go ahead as if that were assured. If it doesn’t come to pass, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. This way, we can start training them as fast as we can get ‘em. Gayle, among other things, you are Communications Officer. That puts you on command staff and in line for command. Our two pilots are going to start hands-on training tomorrow for shuttle/fighter training. Stephen, you need to get ready for the convention in Denver. Let any of us know if you need help on that. Kitty and I will be reachable by wristband at all times once Stephen gets to the convention. We’ll use the same routine on whoever you can manage to attract as we used on the scientists. If a system works, go with it.”
Gayle jumped in when Simon took a breath. “The convention center is expecting a couple of assistants.”
“Fine, just don’t take any unnecessary chances,” Simon agreed. “You guys work it out and let me know what you plan to do.” His voice trailed off.
Before she could respond, Ensign Marshall knocked on the door, both pilots behind him. “Ensigns Marshall, Johnson and Quinn reporting, sir.” He stood at a civilian’s idea of attention and saluted, mimicked by the two pilots.
Simon self-consciously returned the salute and said, “At ease, Ensigns.” He proceeded to fill the three men in on their duties. “All three of you will start flight training. Tomorrow you start hands-on training ... in the bays! No excursions until authorized. Johnson and Quinn, you are both promoted to Lieutenant, junior grade. Ensign Marshall, you are promoted to Lieutenant and temporary Chief of Security. I want you to get as intimate a knowledge of this ship as possible. As temporary Security Officer you need to have that knowledge of this vessel. As soon as you can demonstrate that, you will be posted to Commander. As soon as we have insignia, we’ll get them to you. Wait for me in the briefing room. We can discuss things in more detail shortly.”
Gayle spoke up as the three men left the room. “They’ll have those insignia before you know it, Simon. John, Lt. Marshall, that is, and I designed insignia for all officer ranks and made up a few sets of each rank up to Commander. Only one for Captain, and none for the admiral ranks. Just designs for those. We still need to do the enlisted ranks though. We made them in one of the smaller factories down on deck four. They’ll draw them from Supply before going off shift. Trust me. I know those guys. Ensigns wear a small silver pip we call a planet. Lieutenants, jg, wear a silver crescent moon. Lieutenants wear a gold crescent moon. Lt. Commanders wear a silver eight-pointed star, Commanders, a gold eight-pointed star. Captains wear a silver comet with a tail. Hope that meets with your approval. And I guess l‘d pass stuff like that by you first, huh?”
Assuring her that it did indeed meet with his approval and noting that he had already seen a few, he called for questions and, all three demurring, he closed the meeting. “Good luck, Stephen. I hope you’re as successful as you were today. Call if and when you need anything. I guess that’s all for now, folks. I’ve got people waiting in the briefing room. Meeting adjourned.”
The mess hall had been rearranged into auditorium-style seating to accommodate the thirty-five young men and women who had attended Stephen’s lecture. Their presence was a direct result of what Stephen called smoke and mirrors.
“Without the smoke or mirrors,” Gayle said to Kitty, her nervousness causing her to forget for a moment that Kitty had been there, too.
The presentation easel had read Teleportation in the Twenty-First Century, on the first line, Lecture from 6 PM until 7 PM, on the second and, Guest speaker Dr. Stephen Walker, PhD., M.A., B.A., M.S., on the third. The time was scheduled to be between two of the more major events of the convention, and it was hoped that enough people would drift in to make the whole thing worthwhile.
Almost forty people wandered into the room, set up lecture-style, before Stephen took the microphone. “This is really not my forte,” he said, “public speaking, that is, but thank you for coming. Why I’m here isn’t to lecture on the possibilities of teleportation in the twenty-first century, but to show you that we actually have it.”
The room started to buzz immediately and Stephen, a teacher as well as anything else, waited for his moment and then took it. “Teleportation exists. The ability to teleport is currently beyond human reach. That means that the ability comes from an outside source. We, humanity, were lucky enough to get possession of alien technology and it is in civilian hands. I have with me an officer of a very large and dedicated space ship. One of the pieces of technology aboard this remarkable find is the teleportation device, and we propose to demonstrate it to you right now.”
He gestured to Gayle, a striking figure in her space black shirt and pants, boots polished to a high gloss, and golden hair in a ponytail that reached her waist as she stepped to the lectern. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m relatively certain that not one of you believes that we can prove that teleportation exists in a single hour. I propose a quick and easy way to prove it.” She reached into the lectern and pulled out three transporter disks.
“These are tickets to a real, live, working space ship. It’s not the Enterprise or the Millennium Falcon, but it is capable of building those ships. Let me put it another way: what we’re doing is recruiting volunteers for a crew. All we ask is that you go along with the gag until you are convinced.”
She tossed the disks out into the audience where each one was looked at and passed around for a few seconds. Gayle stopped all inspections by her announcement. “I am about to push a button on my wristband, I trust you’ve all noticed that we are all wearing them,” she said raising her own. I will press it in ten seconds. At that time anyone holding a disk will be transported aboard the Galileo, as we have named our ship.”
“You should have heard the commotion the ones left behind caused,” Stephen complained. “I thought we were going to be raided by convention officials. The only thing that saved us was Gayle and the first three finally beaming back in.”
“Well, we had to show ‘em enough of the ship to prove it wasn’t a setup,” Gayle interjected.
“Anyway,” Stephen said, “the rest of the group got so into questioning them that they forgot all about us for a while. Finally, some of the braver ones said they wanted to take a ride, too. Eventually we got the entire group up for short tours, gave them an address to come to the next day and sent them on their way. I’m both pleased and surprised to find out that thirty-five showed up.”
The three commanders stood out as they walked to the front of the room in their solid black uniforms. They faced the group of young people from behind a long table. Kitty, as senior officer present, called the meeting to order by tapping on her as-yet-unfilled water glass. She was finally getting comfortable telling the story of how they had come by the ship and what they planned to do with it. She, Gayle, and Stephen answered questions for about twenty minutes, stopping when Simon entered the room.
Stephen, watching the door, spotted Simon. He stood up and announced, “Captain on deck!” Kitty stopped in mid-sentence and she and Gayle jumped to attention.
Simon took his place at the table. “Be seated,” he said to the three in black and the few who hesitantly rose to their feet as he made his way to the front of the room, making a mental note of each person who had stood up, however hesitantly. “Commander,” he said to Kitty, “if you would finish your presentation.
” He had been listening to the meeting via comm link and timed his arrival accordingly. When Kitty reached the point where she, Stephen and Gayle had been sent to Denver, she shut up and looked at Simon, who began his part of the presentation. “I am Captain Hawke, commanding officer of the Galileo. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have a unique opportunity here. A real chance to start something new. An ability to make a difference like no other group in history. Until now, mankind has just dreamed about the stars. Written about them, wished for them, wished on them. Now, we can actually go there. Those of you sitting here today can actually be in command of some of the first ships to visit many of those stars. There is a hitch though.”
He hesitated for a moment to let that sink in. “The ... people ... who built this ship are going to want it back. They are going to come looking for it. And, I and my officers believe, they will do whatever they have to, to get it back. Now, I’m not saying we won’t give their property back to them, but I am saying that we are going to duplicate it first. And all the technology it contains. We also need to worry about whether these aliens are going to object to us being the new kids on the galactic block. To that end I propose that we start a program of building and expansion like nothing seen in the past hundred years. I’m asking you to make a sacrifice equal to that of the patriots of the American Revolution. I am not talking about an overnight project here. We have five years minimum to build up, gear up, and prepare to repel invaders. Or greet visitors. And, as surely as this ship is here, the aliens will come looking for it. So, I ask you now: give me your time, your bodies, and your hearts, and we can forge a whole new direction for humanity. A direction that has Earth as a beginning, and the entire galaxy as a destination. But only if we take the opportunity that chance has provided for us. Now, if your manner of transport hasn’t convinced you of the truth of the situation, then the tour we are about to take you on should do the trick. Afterward, there will be another question-and-answer period followed by interviews for each of you who choose to sign on. If you have any skills that will qualify you for specific berths, we will find out about them then. Those without specific skills who wish to join the crew will be given a few simple aptitude tests and assigned positions. As soon as the first ships start rolling out, those of you who have qualified for posts on those ships can be transferred to the new vessels and assist in the training of your new crewmates. If you find yourself in a post you don’t like, you can cross-train for another as soon as it is available. Now, if there are no questions, we can begin the tours.”