Harry Heron: Hope Transcends

by Patrick G Cox

  Zorvan called a meeting with the Pantheon via holo-link. Each appeared as the mythological figure they drew their names from, and it was part of the reason for the success of their organisation that no one knew who all the others were in everyday life. There had been some failures in the recent past, and Zorvan now took extreme measures to ensure it would not happen again.

  “Our contract is extended. Certain members of the Treaty Council and the Fleet Board have become a threat to our client’s plans.” He watched their facial expressions to gauge their reactions. He knew them very well, better than they realised, even though their faces were disguised by their avatars. He picked up on subtle cues and tells that most people ignored or were completely unaware of. “Our client wishes to send a message. She suggests that some of their family members be taken as hostages to ensure their cooperation.”

  The hologram representing Kali spoke. “I hope they are more of a challenge than the fat Senator and his cronies were—they gave my team no amusement at all, unlike the ambitious Councilman.”

  “No doubt the Senator was a mere diversion to your team. The client, however, was eminently satisfied, and that is all that matters. In this instance, however, the client requires that the selected targets remain unharmed. Of course, if the required conditions are not met…” He let them guess what the coutcome of that scenario would be.

  “That seems unusual, but an interesting exercise,” said the hologram depicting Horus. “Have you a suitable host in mind for the hostages?”

  “Yes. Arrangements are in hand for them to be cared for at our Daemon training facility.”

  “Excellent,” said the hologram depicting Ganesh. “Then they will also be readily available should it be necessary to dispose of them.”

  “I am forwarding the identities and the instructions by courier to your designated contacts.” Zorvan paused. “Which brings us to the matter of the Charonians. I will take care of that contract myself.”

  “We await your instructions, Zorvan.” The hologram of Vizaresha bowed.

  In rapid succession the holograms vanished. Zorvan, who in real life was known as Kharim Al-Khalifa, remained perfectly still to collect his thoughts. Then he stood, adjusted his bespoke tailored jacket, and said, “You recorded that, Reuel? Good. Kali needs watching. She is arrogant and ambitious. Make sure Sraosa is always near her.”

  “Do you wish to have her continue to lead the attempt to seize the new patrol ship and its commander for our client?” Reuel was aware that the client wanted this particular ship because they’d gone to great lengths to fit devices on it to take control of it and its sisters remotely, only to have their efforts negated by the appointment of one of possibly the only two men capable of detecting and neutralising the attempt.

  “Yes,” said Zorvan. “Kali has the skill for it, and the client doesn’t know her socially. Have they the equipment to neutralise Commander Heron? His ability to link to the AI could be a problem.”

  “Yes, the Charonians have provided what is needed. They were curious, of course, but do not seem to grasp the significance of Heron’s ability.”

  “Good. Have Sraosa deliver it and convey my instructions to proceed.” Zorvan paused. “Advise Kali that it is sufficient for the Commander to be placed beyond retrieval.”

  Harry gathered his junior officers for a meeting. “My friends, we have a change of schedule. Our working up is to be accelerated.” He watched the faces before him. “Some of you have noticed that our sister vessels are being given the same treatment.”

  Jens Jakobsen signalled a question.

  “Yes, Jens?”

  “Sir, there are several rumours about sabotage on all our ships.” He glanced at the others. “Is it anything to do with those devices that caused us problems?”

  “Yes.” Harry chose his words carefully. “I’m afraid I’m not in a position to tell you a great deal more. I have been briefed on what is happening, but it is restricted at present. It is sufficient to say that there is a serious problem. Currently only our ship and her brothers and sisters are unaffected. I am not permitted to say more.” He saw their baffled expressions and added, “I will say that the more extreme rumours concerning our ability to defend our colonies and worlds are exaggerated. If anyone asks, please make that clear.”

  The Lacertian spoke. “Captain, we will respond to those who speak from ignorance and little knowledge with what we know.” She studied her companions, her strange purring laughter barely audible. “It seems you humans must always fill any gap in your knowledge with speculations of disaster.”

  The others laughed, one or two looking a little sheepish. Lieutenant Matlock was first to respond. “Thanks for that reminder, Sci. Only some of us are terminally pessimistic, but I will say that not only is it a survival trait, but it has also led to some stunning discoveries.” She paused, a mischievous expression on her face. “Of course, that’s when we realise that what we were afraid of is potentially beneficial in most cases.”

  “Looking at the working up schedule, sir…” the Executive Officer interjected. Lieutenant MacKenzie-Banks had undergone something of a transformation since his interview with Security and a discussion with Harry. He waited until everyone had focused on the schedule again. “It’s going to be pretty intense. There are no rest days, and all the debriefs are scheduled for the evenings or the period immediately following an exercise.” He paused. “This looks almost like an extended wartime patrol.”

  Harry nodded. “It does, and it is going to be hard on us all.” He put down his pen. “It will put us under a lot of strain, the Rates and Warrant Officers in particular. I have no doubt we will make mistakes, and I know my temper may be stretched from time to time.” He smiled as they laughed. Most had heard stories of the very few occasions when he’d allowed himself to lose it, but none of them had actually seen more than the briefest glimpse of it. “As will yours, but I expect everyone to work together, to show a little tolerance and to help anyone who may not be coping very well.”

  Privately, when his officers had left to prepare their departments and brief their own people, Harry admitted to himself that it was going to be extremely tough, but they had no choice.

  “I shall do my best to learn quickly and not let you down, Harry.” The ship had adopted a rather pleasant female voice, and in keeping with the location of the river Lagan she was named after, she spoke with a soft Irish lilt.

  Harry was startled by Lagan’s response, having not made a conscious switch to speak to the ship. “I have no fear of that,” he replied. “It is we who may let you down.”

  He stood, tugged his jacket into place, picked up his tablet and made for the Command Centre. It was going to be a very busy day.

  The following weeks were intense. One exercise flowed into another. Tempers flared and frayed, but the Exercise Directors drove them even harder, testing their weaknesses and building up their strengths. Battle simulations mingled with damage control exercises, emergency repairs and, of course, live firing of their impressive weapons arrays.

  “Well done, Commander.” Rear-Admiral Pasco, Flag Officer Space Training, or FOST to the Fleet, smiled as he surveyed the assembled officers and warrant officers. “You’ve done exceptionally well. We’re a week ahead of schedule—itself an achievement—and you’ve all managed to cope with the pressure exceedingly well. Now you’re ready to deploy.” He indicated a Captain seated on his right. “Captain Jorgensen will see each of you individually to debrief you on your team’s performance and your own.” He nodded to Harry. “I’ll handle yours myself, Commander. You’ve got a good team here, and a superb little ship. Now we need to put you to work.”

  “Very well, sir.” Harry rose. “Would you care to use my quarters, or have other facilities been arranged?”

  “I think you and I can use your quarters.” He hesitated. “Ah, one more item. I’m sorry to have to tell you that your planned leave has had to be postponed. We need you deployed immediat
ely.” He held up a hand as a murmur of annoyance ran through the group. “However, I have managed to secure a week of rest and recuperation for you. I’ll give your Commander the details.” He stood and nodded to his team. “Carry on please, Captain Jorgensen.”

  Harry waited impatiently for the hyperlink connection to Mary. It was so damned unfair. They had looked forward to their brief opportunity to share a precious week together—difficult enough with her recital schedule and his deployment—but now this crisis, and the complete cancellation of all leave. Rest and recuperation, the admiral called it. Hah! It was hardly that. A week on a space station set up as a ‘holiday camp’ for the workers from the building docks. At least it wasn’t orbiting a barren world.

  The hologram of Mary appeared.

  “Mary, at last. Did you get my last message?”

  Mary smiled. “Good evening to you too, Mr. Commander Heron.” She laughed. “Impatient as ever, Harry. Yes, my love, I did get your message. It’s a pity, but it can’t be helped, I suppose.”

  Harry’s frown faded, and he smiled at her reassurance. Mary always helped him feel calm and centred. “I’m sorry, love, I suppose I was so looking forward to a little time with you. I beg pardon.” He frowned again. “But I shall be really angry if our wedding is thrown into disarray by the actions of these renegades.”

  “I hope not! Good grief, do you think it could be?”

  Harry checked himself. If the intelligence reports were anything to go by, there was definitely a risk of something interfering with their wedding—but it was labeled Top Secret and not to be discussed. “I certainly hope not, but given my usual run of luck, who knows.” He lifted his hands in surrender, shook his head and grinned, hoping it gave the impression he wanted to give. “As I told the College Captain, when I meet Mr. Exigencies, I shall horsewhip him.”

  Mary laughed. “Oh, Harry, I believe you would too. It’s okay, really. The news channels are all very excited about the discovery of a new race, though no one has any idea where they’re from or how to communicate with them.” She crooked one eyebrow. “Of course, the LPSL are very concerned the Fleet might provoke a war with them first.” She hesitated. “But I expect you know that already.”

  Despite himself, Harry laughed. “Yes, you’re right, I do know. And I can’t believe they have the nerve to demand of the Fleet Council that I be forbidden from any contact with them.” His anger flashed through again. “Damned impertinence!”

  Chapter 10

  Trap

  _________________________

  “Contact, bearing green zero-one-four, positive angle zero-four-five.”

  “Thank you. Transponder ID?”

  “Shows as the liner Harmony Voyager, sir. The scan shows an anomaly on the image, but I can’t make it out.”

  “An anomaly?” Harry focussed his cyberlink on the scan. It appeared normal, but then he saw it: a shadow behind and beneath the liner, which shouldn’t be there. “I see it. A ship holding position behind the Voyager perhaps? Or a fault in the scan?” He focussed again. “Lagan, have you any record of similar scan results?”

  “Negative, Harry. My scanners are fully functional, and there are no defects. There have been reports of such shadows by ships encountering pirates.”

  “Scan, run a check for interference. Targeting, obtain a lock on the lower edge of the shadow, please. Perhaps that will reveal something.” He glanced at the Communications Warrant Officer. “Open a channel to the Harmony Voyager, please. Get her Captain online for me.” He fixed his gaze on the small flashing symbol on the Command display.

  “Comlink active, sir. Captain Korrelli on link.”

  “Captain Korrelli? Commander Heron. Good day to you, sir. What brings you to this sector? It is a little off the usual tourist run for ships like yours.”

  “Commander, I’m very pleased to see your ship. Very pleased. We had a problem in our drives, so we dropped out to repair them. We’d appreciate a little help if you can stay a while to do so.”

  Through his cyberlink Harry watched the targeting scan. The shadow vanished as soon as there was a target lock. “We will do what we can, Captain.” He sent an instruction to the targeting console to do a wide search for the anomaly. “If you can have your Engineering Officer send us the details of the problem, I will ask my Engineering staff to look into it for you.” On his ever-present notepad he scribbled a note and passed it to Jenny, currently the OoW.

  She frowned as she read it, then slipped from her seat and joined the ScanRate at his console.

  “I’ll do that, Commander, but someone needs to come across and see it for themselves,” replied the man identified as the liner’s Master.

  “Understood,” said Harry. “Have them send the information. My Engineering Officer will have to make that assessment.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell my Chief Engineer to send it,” said the Voyager’s Captain. There was a pause and another voice in the background. “Oh yes. I should inform you that one of my passengers is Senator Samland.” Again there was a pause. “She’s—er—insisting you come in person.”

  Harry’s temper flashed and he had to bite back his retort. “I see. Please inform the Senator I shall convey her request to my Admiral and await orders from the Flag.” Was arrogance a required qualification for being a politician? He’d seen this Senator on the news channels, an overbearing, bullying woman whose preferred method of dealing with her opponents was to adopt a sneering line of denigration toward them and, if that failed, to launch a personal attack. A new voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Mr. Heron? I’m Senator Samland’s personal assistant. She expects to see you in her suite as soon as possible.”

  Harry felt the glow of anger spreading. The only sound in his Command Centre was the quiet hum of the air circulation fans. Everyone focussed on their work, carefully avoiding any temptation to look his way or utter a word.

  “Please inform the Senator that I thank her for her invitation; however, as I am sure she is aware, I cannot leave my command without first alerting my Flag Officer of the reason and my intentions. When I have that authority, I will certainly visit Captain Korrelli and the Senator to make the arrangements necessary for your continued safe passage. Good day.” He killed the link and glared round the Command Centre.

  No one spoke.

  “Scan, what do you have of that shadow? It vanished as soon as we had a target lock. Where is it now?” He turned to the Communications Warrant. “Get the flagship on the link for me. I want to speak to Admiral Le Jeune.”

  The Flag Captain answered Harry’s call, not the Admiral or her staff. Harry was blunt and to the point about his suspicions of the shadow contact.

  “Senator Samland has already been in touch, Commander,” said the Flag Captain in near complete dismissal of Harry’s concerns. “You’re to give whatever assistance she needs. If she requires your presence on her ship, you will comply with her request.” The Flag Captain ended the connection and the hologram vanished.

  Harry turned to his Executive Commander. “Well, Mr. Banks, it appears I have little choice. I must board the Voyager and deal with the Senator. You have command in my absence. Be alert, something is not right here, and that shadow we observed may be some new form of masking device that hides an enemy.” He glared at the display. “This damned liner is a decoy—I’m sure of it, but I have nothing to support my feeling on it.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Lieutenant kept his expression neutral. “Senator Samland has a lot of influence, sir. She could make or break our future careers—”

  “I’m aware of what she might attempt, Mr. Banks. Thank you. I think my responsibility to this ship, the Fleet, and our people takes priority over concerns for my career.” Harry realised he was being harsh and made an effort to soften his response. “But yes, I agree, we need to be careful. She is one of those who played both sides in the Consortium conflict, and I think we may be sure she is playing a double game again. Why else w
ould she be here? Why else would this ship be so far from her scheduled route?” He pushed himself out of his command chair. “Prepare to launch my gig. The Lagan is in your hands, Mr. Banks.”

  In his quarters, Harry pulled on his formal jacket and adjusted his belt with its hand-held plasma projector, a recorder and the pouch that contained his pen and a small notepad. A thought occurred to him, and he slipped a second recorder into the fob pocket he’d had tailored into his uniform trousers. “Lagan, keep this recorder active, and log everything you hear on it.”

  “Do you need me to record everything on both recorders?”

  “It will be best if you do. I do not trust the Senator, and I think she may attempt to prevent my recording our conversation.” He weighed his thoughts. “Create a link to me directly through the Voyager, please. Then you will know what is afoot if they attempt something against us.”

  “Do you consider that likely, Harry? The Voyager is unarmed.”

  “So she appears, but that shadow we detected is not—of that I am very sure.” Harry hesitated. “Keep your link to me open. This is one occasion when I need you to eavesdrop on everything I see, hear or say.”

  “I shall do so, Harry. You appear to be very concerned about this visit.”

  He adjusted his jacket and settled the utility belt. “I am. Mr. Banks will be in command until I return. You’d best record everything that happens here as well. Store it in a file to be read only by me.” He hesitated. “Or perhaps on instruction from a member of Admiral Stotesbury’s department if they request a full record of these events. If Mr. Banks should appear likely to allow you to be taken—take immediate action to avoid it.”

  Making his way to the access bay, Harry keyed his comlink. “Mr. Banks, I am boarding my gig now. Maintain coms contact with my Coxswain while we are away. I suspect communication may be a trifle restricted while I am with the Senator.”