Bigg was one of the few who knew of the attack before being stationed in the chamber. He had been a UAV pilot and a liaison to a company whose gear had powered our fighters. After that attack, the chamber facility had been decided upon and funded through "black" programs. Very few outside the chamber knew of its existence.
The two fighters had taken out three strategic satellites and then attacked a military airfield in northern Alaska. We had scrambled all our fighters there to meet the incoming threat. It was a massacre.
The alien craft had only been taken out after being lured over a defended airfield. There we had two still-experimental high-powered coil guns sitting in wait. Nine aircraft with eighteen crewmen on board had been sacrificed just to lure the alien fighters to their end. It was costly, as those men and women had given their lives as bait.
Without the world being aware of the skirmish, the 126 brave souls who had given their lives had only been silently mourned by the few in the know. Families were told stories of separate incidents and asked to remain silent because of matters of the highest of national importance.
Back in the classroom, the history lesson went on for hours. With the new revelations, there was not a tired or dreary eye in the room. It was serious business, and the crewmen assembled there were now fully aware of just how serious.
The first of our new fighters was to be launched in three days. The four-man crew of the "Defender" series ship had been training in the simulators almost nonstop for a full year. Scenario after scenario had been placed before them in the holo-sims out in the chamber. Many of those training scenarios were of impossible missions where the crew was not coming back alive.
Each of the team had it drilled into them that the most important thing about each mission was for them to do the maximum amount of damage to the enemy. If they completed the sim run in one piece, any celebration was short lived, as it was right back in for another mission.
After eleven hours in the classroom, we were given one hour for rest and relaxation before a mandatory six-hour sleep period. This was to be our schedule for the next four months. We were on eighteen-hour days. It seemed odd at first, but with the proper lighting and ultraquiet sleep chambers, we were told the body would get into sync with it within the first ten days.
There was no scheduled sunrise or sunset to confuse our body clocks. We were deep underground, where the sun no longer mattered. Our crew of four became very tight, very fast. I was selected as our pilot. My focus would be on flying the craft.
I was told that by the end of our training, I should be able to fly the ship at Mach 5 down a railroad track and then roll over and under that track as it crossed a bridge over a small highway. At the time, I wondered how it would be possible to make the ninety-degree turns necessary for that maneuver. I was assured I would soon learn how.
Bigg was our defensive specialist. The ship would be equipped with a number of new defenses, and Bigg would become skilled at using them. His primary job would be to keep us alive.
Whip was our offensive specialist. She would be directing our four enhanced coil guns and our complement of thirty-eight missiles, four of which were nuclear tipped. Whip's job would be to do maximum damage to any and all targets identified.
Pop was our last specialist. He had been selected as our engineer. He would keep all the ship’s systems ready and active. Good engineers had always been worth their weight in gold as early equipment failure and other unseen problems were always waiting for an untimely opportunity to strike.
The training routine soon became second nature. Each of the squads of four was schooled on the ship, strategies, tactics, and the utter importance of teamwork. One weak or lazy crewman could easily mean death for all.
After a long day in the classroom, we settled into the lounge for our one-hour R&R. Pop was grinning from ear to ear, which was usual for him on the two days a week he was allowed a single beer.
The evening hour was for unwinding, but usually ended up with discussions about the day’s lessons. That day was special, as we eagerly awaited the launch of the first manned Defender flight in the morning.
The Defender ships were to be marveled at. The magnetic drive system from the alien fighter had been adapted for antigravity and inertial dampening purposes. But, David Brenner and the other scientists had not yet figured out how the aliens had actually made their ships move.
They could hover. They could turn instantly without affecting those inside, but the actual propulsion itself had remained a mystery. So, David and his team had come up with a new system. The Black Hole Drive had been born. The BHD consisted of five high-powered magnetic rings that functioned as neutron colliders.
Work done seventy years before on the Large Hadron Collider had led to the ability to create temporary microscopic black holes. The five rings were used to cycle neutrons up to speeds where the collision that occurred created a black hole that lasted fractions of a nanosecond.
In the Defender ships, the discovery had been used to repeatedly form five temporary black holes just in front of the ship, the result being a powerful pull exerted that would move the ship forward. The acceleration achieved was significantly faster than the current electric turbine technology. In the void of space, it was theorized it would work even better.
The strange thing about the black holes that were created was that the alien gravity wave was not immune to them. This meant that our ship, with its active skin, could be propelled forward by them regardless of the enemy’s gravity weapon, or concussion weapon as they had once been called.
The shell of the Defender was covered in a thin layer of sodium oxide. When a sufficient magnetic field was applied, the skin of the craft took on the anti-grav qualities that were needed for it to fly. A benefit of the active skin was that those inside the ship were nearly immune to inertial forces. We would each be seated in a comfortable chair, where we would watch and control everything from holo-displays.
Other than the holographic panels of controls that illuminated the interior of the craft, the remainder of the ship appeared jet black from the inside when the skin was activated. It was strange to be sitting in a chair that looked as though it was floating in the air. It would also be strange to have the other crewmen seemingly floating next to you.
On the defensive panel, Bigg would be able to control a gravity field similar to what the alien fighter had. A gravity wave could be projected outward from the ship into a point. David's team had again been unable to fully understand the physics behind the gravity wave, and because of that, we were only able to project it outward from the ship for a few meters.
On the alien fighters, this had been used for their shield as well as for the deadly concussion weapon that had devastated Central Florida during the apocalypse. If positioned properly, the gravity wave would act as a shield. Bigg's job would be to make certain it was always in the right place at the right time.
An interesting thing would happen when the skin of the ship was active. From the outside, it would appear to vanish. No light or any radio wave of any sort would be reflected. Anything with a normal particle spin to it would be absorbed by the skin, passed around to the other side, and then emitted.
A bullet fired at the ship would seem to pass through it and continue on from the other side as if nothing had been there. It was a fascinating anomaly that our scientists could still not fully understand.
But there were limits to the amount of matter that could be absorbed and reemitted. With a large enough mass the ship could be brought to a halt, and with an even larger mass the active skin could be overwhelmed. We were told, as an example, that if we flew directly into a large enough mass, the ship would enter the mass and then slow to a halt. The skin would be overwhelmed, and it would then go inactive, the result being that we would be trapped inside the object.
On the weapons front, Whip was excited about the prospect of firing a live coil gun. For her, to have four of them would only make it four times more exciting. Our conversa
tion then wandered onto the topic of the nuclear-tipped missiles. They would pack quite a punch if they could be delivered to their target. Currently, the aliens’ gravity wave technology could easily keep the missiles at bay. Command hoped to find other uses for them.
Pop would be schooled in keeping every system operational, while I would have the simple duties of starting, stopping, and turning. If I could get us where we were going and back safely, my duties as pilot would be fulfilled. Each of us also received training in the duties of the others. You could not have too much redundancy while at war and in space.
With a crew of four, we would each get six hours of sleep while rotating shifts if we were on duty. When the hour bell sounded, we all made our way to our sleeping quarters. We would have our daily sonic shower and then slide on top of our anti-grav mattress beds.
The bedding was definitely a perk of being in the USAC. You would float on top of it, which gave you the most restful sleep you had ever had. That was especially true for a heavy guy like me.
Even in our excited states, the prospect of the first flying Defender-class ship the following morning was not enough to keep us awake after our third day in the classroom. The needed sleep was an uneven match as we each powered up our anti-grav beds. With the ultradark and ultraquiet of our personal chambers, sleep came quickly.
Chapter 3
* * *
I was the first to arrive in the mess hall the following morning. The place was abuzz with anticipation of the launch. This would be the first of the Defender series ships to take to the sky. Whoever the first of our crew was to arrive in the morning would normally wait for the others before proceeding through the chow line. In my excited state, I could not wait any longer.
I expected to be chastised by the others, but my eagerness had only brought about their laughter. I had been lucky with the crew I was with. There had not been any tension between us, no hostile outbursts, and no jealous or selfish behavior, other than my minor infraction of that morning.
Our squadron of twenty-eight crewmen would pilot seven Defenders. We had eleven other squadrons training in the chamber for a total of eighty-four crews. If construction and training went well, we were told those numbers would be quadrupled in the coming year.
While well over three hundred craft should be enough to easily handle the current four alien fighters that plagued us, it seemed we might be grossly outnumbered when the full fleet arrived. It was scary stuff given the fact the first Defender was just preparing for its maiden flight.
When we had finished eating, we were herded out into the chamber and into an area that had been set up to address everyone. As we stood talking amongst ourselves, we waited patiently for a holo-screen to appear by the giant rock wall in front of us.
When the first image came to life, the crowd quickly quieted. It was David Brenner. Everyone there was well aware of who he was, so there was no need for an introduction. He gave a short greeting and then got right into the business of the day. Crew team A1 was standing behind him along with the first Defender, A000001.
David and the crew were topside at Regents Air Base. I was unsure of how the Defender had gotten from the chamber to the hangar at Regents, and at the time it was unimportant. David talked of the mission before us, he talked of the alien fleet that was on its way, and he talked of the struggle we all would face when it arrived.
Following David, we were then shown a feed directly from the White House. The President spoke frankly, and largely reiterated what David had already said. He then spoke of how not only our own nation was depending on our success, but the entire world and all mankind. It seemed a heavy burden, but it was a burden we were being trained to fully take on.
When the President had finished, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff spoke, thanking us all for our efforts and reminding us again of what we would be facing. When all the speeches were over, the focus was turned to the crew.
As team A1 walked toward the Defender, the tail end of the craft opened and lifted like the tailgate of an old SUV. The crew then stepped up into the Defender and walked to the forward cabin. The Defender was sixty feet in length, twelve feet high, and fourteen feet wide. It had an uncanny resemblance to a silvery-white loaf of bread. I salivated at the momentary thought of a warm slice of freshly baked bread.
The forward cabin contained the four crew seats, while a rear cabin was for the ship’s systems and supplies. The crewmen wore reclamation suits that would feed them through an IV and then absorb and send any waste product to a device in the rear cabin.
The waste would then be reconstituted and fed back into the IV solution as nutrition. It sounded disgusting, and I loathed the thought of not being able to eat, but we had been assured the advantages far outweighed our fears.
The tailgate of the Defender then closed and sealed. The crew were seated, connected to the ship’s systems, and then given the go-ahead to start their test flight. We stood watching the holo-screen for several minutes as the crew went through a thorough checklist. Then, in an instant, the craft went clear. Only the slightest distortion was visible, as the active skin had been engaged.
The Defender next lifted slowly off the hangar floor until it was floating about three feet in the air. As the Black Hole Drive came online, the craft started to move forward. A cheer arose in the crowd. The hangar doors then opened as the craft moved toward them.
What we saw next was both frightening and discouraging. The Defender turned at the last moment, sending the front end along with the BHD straight into the edge of the now-open hangar door. I cringed as I waited for the craft to crash into the door, ending its maiden flight.
As the ship reached the door, there was no impact. The door just disappeared as the craft moved through it. A perfect cutout of the craft in the door was the only damage done. The black holes of the BHD had disintegrated the door material that had come into close proximity with them. The Defender was undamaged.
The nearly invisible ship then proceeded out onto the tarmac as we all looked on silently. It came to a complete stop and then hovered for most of a minute. The crew executed a 180-degree turn, and then moments later, the craft turned up on end with the front facing skyward.
After several seconds of standing tall, the Defender then shot straight up, and within seconds the distortion disappeared from view. The hush and gloom of the crowd then turned back into cheers.
The holo-screen turned to a view from the rear of the crew cabin facing forward. The sky in front of the Defender turned quickly from a pale blue to the blackness of space. The HD views from the holo-screen were breathtaking. I turned and looked behind us, and the opposite holo-screen was projecting a view from the rear of the craft. Earth filled the view and then began to slowly shrink as the ship continued to accelerate.
As we watched in awe, the Defender slowly turned as it made its way around the back side of the moon. It had gone from the tarmac to the moon in under nine minutes. The pilot relayed her flight status, and every three minutes like clockwork the other crewmen chirped off a status of their systems.
On its return, the Defender did another 180-degree spin and then dropped straight into the atmosphere at more than 200,000 kph. I asked Whip why everything was displayed in kilometers. I frowned at the thought of the ships controls and displays being in metric. It was just one more thing I had to brush up on.
When the Defender came through the atmosphere, I expected the active skin to take on a bright white glow. When the air molecules came into contact with the skin, they were absorbed, passed around the craft, and then reemitted. There were no sonic booms, there were no light shows, only the peaceful, amplified sounds of the crewmen breathing.
The Defender then slowed rapidly and came to a complete stop just over a meter off the ground. After a ninety-degree rotation, the craft floated slowly back into the hangar. There was next a gentle set down, and the active skin then turned back into its silvery-white color.
Minutes later the tailgate opened a
nd the crew of Defender A000001 emerged. Again the crowd around me erupted in cheers. The maiden flight of the first Defender had been a resounding success. It was soon determined the glitch of destroying the hangar door had come about because ring number four of the BHD was only operating at 9 percent.
After the other four ring parameters had been adjusted downward to match the defect, the craft was easily steerable. The trip out and around the moon had been done at only 9 percent potential throttle.
I quickly did the math in my head and was salivating as I spoke of my trip to Neptune taking just over a month. That's when Whip corrected me. Nine percent throttle only meant the rate at which you would accelerate and not the speed at which you would travel. Theoretically, at full throttle, the Defender would reach the speed of light in about six hours, making Neptune potentially less than a day away.
David Brenner then came back on the holo-screen, offering congratulations to the crew and everyone else involved. We were then all granted a two-hour celebratory break before our work would continue. I convinced the others to join me in the mess hall for the first half hour, as everyone else would be crowding into the lounge. The thought of my only meal while in flight being from an IV had increased my appetite. The others agreed, but reluctantly so.
As we sat in the mess hall, we talked about what we had just seen. It was a historic moment we would hopefully one day be able to speak about with our children and grandchildren. We were there when the first Defender flew.
I then made the statement to the others that we were only 10.5 light-years away from Epsilon Eridani. Within our lifetimes, it might be possible to take the fight to the aliens’ suspected home world. Bigg quipped that we would have to get past the incoming alien fleet first.
Whip then raised an interesting question. Why was it that my great-uncle, David Brenner, looked like he was only fifty years old when in reality he was closer to ninety? He had explained it to me when I had first arrived. Every cell in the human body has strands of DNA. Each time a cell divides, the end caps of the DNA strand divide and become thinner and less stable. When typical humans reach their fifties, the DNA strand becomes too short to divide, leaving each of us with a more rapidly aging body... no new cells. It was an event called senescence.
SODIUM Trilogy Part One Page 31
