by PP Corcoran
What sealed Zarmina as the location for the research base, however, was the discovery of the system’s massive comet belt. At least ten times the size of that found in the Sol system it extended from twenty-five to sixty AUs from the star. It was this comet belt that held the necessary ingredients for some of the more complex and, if you paid any heed to mainstream scientists, far-fetched ideas that Doctor Jeff Moore and his research group had thought up, taking ideas from the methodical research that Persai scientists did on the Saiph database and good old human ingenuity. It was to see the fruits of their labors that brought Admiral Holan to Zarmina.
As the courier boat reentered normal space, the first thing that struck Holan was the complete lack of anything other than naturally occurring background radiation. Holan knew that on the planet below there was a facility containing over 6000 of the Commonwealth’s best and brightest. Never mind the self-contained orbital shipyard and construction facilities that built and supplied the facility with anything it needed. It was decided at an early planning stage that the fewer people who knew of its existence the better, the ability to be completely self-sufficient had been a priority from the outset. Hiding the massive amount of funding required to build, equip, and maintain it had called for some… creative accounting.
The physical security surrounding the facility was at a minimum. The idea being that Zarmina would rely more on guile than guns. Those who visited the facility held only the highest of security clearances and were never told the actual location of it. Any ship traveling to Zarmina was piloted by select crews who kept the coordinates of the planet in their heads. Nothing was recorded electronically. As far as any navigation computer on any ship within the Commonwealth was concerned, Zarmina simply did not exist.
Holan caught fleeting glimpses of large orbital structures in the darkness, passing close by, as his ship dropped lower, until finally it kissed the thin atmosphere of the planet. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and adjusted his harness as he realized his pilots were flying using only their own eyes and passive instruments. At least any pilot error would hopefully end in a quick death, he thought.
The gentle vibration of the engines increased as the pilots applied more power, slowing their headlong plunge into darkness. A faint whistling steadily rose in volume as the ship passed through the thickening atmosphere. Well, at least we didn’t hit anything in orbit, Holan said to himself. All we have to do now is avoid plowing into the planet’s surface. Holan felt his restraints hugging him to his seat as the small courier ship slowed further. His seat’s monitor displayed a view from the bow camera and Holan was able to make out a faint blinking light directly ahead. As the ship got closer the light got brighter and expanded into a well-lit landing pad, apparently situated in the middle of a barren, rock-strewn plain. No other artificial constructs could be seen in the blazing light of the pad. The landing gear rumbled as it extended and, soft as a feather, the little ship touched down. In contrast, the ship juddered on its skids as the entire landing pad began to drop below the surface. The landing lights extinguishing as it did so and the surface of Zarmina returned once more to its perpetual darkness.
The landing pad seemed to drop into the heart of the planet, but Holan knew that they had, in fact, only traveled 100 meters below the surface before coming to a halt. Holan released his seat restraints and stood as a crew member appeared from the cockpit to stand by the exit hatch. Quickly the tell-tale light changed from red to green as the pumps replaced the Zarmina atmosphere with one more suitable to both Holan’s and human lungs. When the indicator went green, the crew member punched the hatch release and stood back, allowing Holan to exit first. With a mumbled thanks, the diminutive admiral stepped out into the large hanger carved from the rock of the planet before his eyes focused on the small group waiting for him at the foot of the ramp.
“Welcome to Zarmina, Admiral Holan,” said a smiling, slightly overweight man wearing a one-piece coverall, with more pockets than Holan had ever seen on a single item of clothing. Each of the plentiful pockets seemed to be stuffed to capacity, this only served to make him look like some sort of maintenance man instead of the head of the Commonwealth’s premier research facility.
Holan made his way down the short ramp and extended his hand to shake that of the waiting human.
“Glad to be here, Doctor Moore. The Combined Joint Chiefs are anxious to see what progress you have made.”
Jeff gave Holan an enthusiastic smile as he absently rubbed at the lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses. “Oh, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, Admiral. Perhaps a short tour of the facility before a full briefing on our progress would be in order?” Jeff let out a short laugh. “And the opportunity to see where your money has gone, of course.”
“Please lead on, Doctor,” replied Holan graciously as they headed for the landing bay exit, trailed by the small group of scientists who all started talking at the same time about their pet project.
#
The peace and quiet of Jeff’s office was a blessing to Holan’s tired ears. Jeff’s idea of a short tour hadn’t proven to be the same as Holan’s. The admiral was glad he’d worn his most comfortable boots as he felt that he had been up and down each and every corridor in the facility at least once, probably twice. Keyton Joyce hadn’t been kidding when he had told Holan that once Doctor Moore started on a subject he was interested in, he forgot to stop talking or, as the tour had progressed, walking. It seemed to have completely escaped the good doctor’s notice that he was at least two feet taller than the Garundan admiral so for every step he took, Holan had been forced to take two. The subtle hints dropped by Moore’s staff about possibly slowing the pace or curtailing the tour fell on deaf ears. The final stop of the tour, Jeff’s office, had come none too soon for Holan who dropped into the comfortable chair with a barely hidden sigh of relief.
The rich smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the office as the door slid shut behind Jeff. An audible sigh left Jeff as he sat in the battered swivel chair opposite Holan and passed over the glass of ice water the admiral had requested. Lifting a steaming mug of his own to his lips, Jeff’s eyes closed and his features softened as he took a moment to savor the aroma from the beans. Opening his eyes again he caught the quizzical look on Holan’s reptilian face.
“My apologies, Admiral, but I’m afraid I have a weak spot for this particular blend. Have for as long as I can remember, in fact, and my mother ensures I always have an ample supply no matter where I find myself – a small packet of the stuff arrives every month like clockwork.”
Holan noted that while he had been talking, Jeff’s eyes moved to a small hologram cube on his desk displaying an image of a smiling Jeff Moore with an older man and woman who flanked him as they stood in front of a heavily wooded lake shore.
Holan pointed out the image. “Your parents?”
Jeff shifted slightly in his seat as if the question made him uncomfortable. “Yes it is. They’ve retired to a small place in British Columbia. I don’t get to see them too much being stuck out here in Zarmina, but we keep in touch by video mail pretty regularly.”
Sensing Jeff’s discomfort, Holan quickly returned the subject to the object of his visit.
“So Doctor, I must say that the facility is very impressive.”
“Thank you, Admiral. The Persai mining engineers were certainly able to show our own engineers a few tricks they hadn’t thought of before, it cut the construction time and got us up and running well ahead of schedule.”
“So, where exactly are you in terms of anything we might find useful? We’d hoped that the new surveillance drones would be available for the operations at 70 Ophiuchi.”
The expression on Jeff’s face hardened as Holan mentioned the assault on the enemy stronghold. Jeff had been privy to the after-action reports and was as struck by the casualty figures as the Combined Joint Chiefs. A few touches of the keyboard integrated into his desktop and a hologram above the desk sprung to life. On it was a sleek missil
e shape. A shape that looked remarkably like a communications drone except for the expanded bulbous head with prominent curved protrusions.
“I think this is what you’re looking for, Admiral. This is what we’re calling the S – R – D.” Jeff paused between the annunciations of each letter. “The Stealthy Reconnaissance Drone.” He went on to explain, “It has a fully functional Gravity Drive which will allow it to be launched from well beyond any enemy detection range. The body comprises the best Persai stealth material, which, in tests, have allowed it to approach to within 200 kilometers of our current best active and passive sensors without detection. The reconnaissance package on board is based on the package currently installed on our own orbital defense platforms but is probably a generation, if not two, beyond them. Give me a month or two and we’ll be able to start making deliveries to the fleet.”
Holan regarded the SRD with hungry eyes and spoke without taking his eyes from the image. “How have you managed to make such rapid progress, Doctor?”
Jeff was warming to the subject now and a gleam came to his eye. “I’d remind you, Admiral, that the Persai have had more than a 150 years to study the Saiph database. They were held back purely by their need to hide themselves from the Others, so instead of physically developing their advances, they simply stuck to theory. By marrying these theories with human engineers and giving them the resources of this facility, it’s like Christmas every day for them.” A large grin appeared on Jeff’s face. “To such an extent I’ve been forced to restrict the working hours of some of the scientists and engineers to stop them burning out.”
Holan finally switched his gaze back to Jeff. “Is there anything else we can expect to be available in the near future?”
Jeff’s forehead wrinkled as he considered the admiral’s question. After a brief moment, his fingers stroked the desk’s keyboard again and a number of schematics replaced the image of the SRD in the holo cube. “I’m fairly certain we aren’t that far from workable applications of these items, Admiral. I think I can safely say that the closest to actual practical use is the micro-fusion generators. They’re basically an upgraded model of the fusion generators we currently use to supply power to things like the SRD and communications drones but should be able to generate up to a ten-fold increase in usable power. We envisage them being used as power supplies for small, more powerful weapons packages. Possibly to arm ships such as couriers, which at the moment don’t have the spare power to support offensive weaponry or to upgrade orbital weapons platforms, although it requires upgrading the actual weapons package itself, it’s not an insurmountable problem.”
The idea of armed couriers appealed to Holan. At the moment, the couriers’ ion and gravity drive required the entire output from their power sources, so they were unarmed. Presently the only way to arm them was to increase their size to allow a larger fusion generator to be fitted and that was detrimental to the speed and maneuverability they required to complete their mission.
Jeff was getting into his stride again and his eyes gleamed as his words rushed out.
“If you liked that, Admiral, then the next couple of items should be right up your alley… What if I were to tell you that I could protect your ships from enemy lasers?”
Holan’s jaw dropped as he looked at the smug face of Jeff looking back at him from the opposite side of the desk. “Go on, Doctor.”
“Expanding on the Persai research into stealth materials, we have been looking into meta-materials. The same sort of stuff that the Chameleon units use to channel certain wavelengths of light around an object such as a ship or a Wraith-suited marine.”
Admiral Holan may have come from a Garunda that, until a few years ago, had been using steam engines, but his IQ was still above 120, allowing him to grasp the new sciences quickly but only to a level where he understood the practice not necessarily the theory behind them. “I have a grasp of how the Chameleon suit works, Doctor, but how does that lead to protecting our ships from laser fire?”
“Picture a straw going into a glass of water. The parts above and below the water point in slightly different directions. That’s a positive refractive index, and is the case for nearly all materials. A negative refractive index occurs if you try to stick the straw into the water and it bounces back at the exact but opposite angle of entrance. Now, imagine the straw is instead a powerful laser. A ship made of conventional materials struck by such a laser would be sliced in half. But a ship made with meta-materials would reflect the beam. And the more powerful the beam, the stronger the reflection.” Jeff leaned back in his chair as he watched the admiral absorb what he’d just said.
Holan’s mind raced with the possibilities. “Is this actually possible? Not just a fanciful theory?”
Jeff touched a key and in the holo cube one of the schematics expanded till it filled the whole display. “Meet the TDF Horizon. She’s one of four stripped-out older style Talos cruisers that the admiralty was kind enough to deliver to us instead of scrapping. We’ve been using the Horizon and her three sister ships as test beds for our gravity drive and advanced weaponry theories to see if the engineers can make them work in practice. Each ship’s been coated in the meta-materials developed here and re-equipped with micro fusion generators to power them. We’ve also installed our latest Artificial Intelligences, even more advanced than those found on your own Garundan Bassa-guided missile destroyers. So far we’ve had great success and expect to be able to field test at full power in six to eight months. Combine these ships with the research we’re doing into the development of anti-matter warheads for the next generation of GD anti-ship missiles and you have a ship the size of a cruiser which packs a punch bigger than our most advanced Bismarck battleship.”
“We never realized you’d made such astounding progress, Doctor. These advances could change the entire face of warfare. With the tactical advantage that our GD missiles already give us over the Others, they’ve been forced to rely on closing with our ships and getting into beam weapon range, but with your meta-materials, even that advantage will be negated. We’d be virtually impervious to all they could throw at us!”
Jeff could see the enthusiasm in the admiral’s face and felt it was time for a note of caution. “I remind you, Admiral; although I hold out great hope for these developments, necessity is sometimes the mother of invention and I cannot guarantee that the Others, once faced with our next generation of weaponry, won’t find a way to circumnavigate it. Granted, it’ll initially give you the upper hand, but for how long? I don’t think anyone can predict that.”
“I think it’s time for me to bid my farewell, Doctor. My fellow Combined Joint Chiefs and I thank you for your work and I’m eager to brief them on your progress.” Holan stood as Jeff came to shake his hand before they made their way to the door.
“I’ll pass your praise on to my staff, Admiral, thank you.” And with that the diminutive admiral walked down the corridor toward his waiting ship his head full of ideas on how to employ the new concepts Jeff had revealed to him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Algol Paradox
TDF CUTLASS – ALGOL 3 – 92.8 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH
The briefing room of TDF Cutlass was not the largest of spaces. Attendance was restricted to essential personnel and the flotilla captains appeared by hologram. Although both measures served to reduce the numbers, the room still seemed cramped to Christos as he watched the busy bees of department heads vie for a seat.
SurvFlot One had arrived at the edge of the Algol 3 system only two hours earlier; the initial readings from the system made the hairs on the back of Christos’ neck stand on end and caused untold consternation amongst the various scientists spread throughout the flotilla. Unexplained energy readings had been detected, scattered throughout the entire system. Christos had been loathe to send any of his Vanguards or Kulas in for a closer look until his science section got a better handle as to what the source of the energy readings could be, so, for the moment, SurvFlot One hung on the fr
inges of the system and waited. Now, at last, the civilian scientists had come to a consensus and were willing to put forward their initial findings.
Christos waited impatiently as Doctor Walter Kernaghan, Chief Physicist and civilian head of the science section, prepared his presentation. Normally Christos would have made his impatience known but Walter Kernaghan had been a member of the crew of the original gravity drive ship, the Marco Polo. For the past few years, Walter had worked for Research and Development but when David Catney assumed command of Survey Command, Walter opted to return with him and had jumped at the opportunity to head up the science section of SurvFlot One.
Walter used a finger to push his archaic bifocal glasses back into place as another former crew member of the Marco Polo clucked around him like a mother hen. Doctor Amanda Allenby, Chief Xenobiologist, was at least ten years younger than Walter but rumor had it that ever since the Marco Polo expedition they were inseparable. It was inevitable when Walter came aboard the Cutlass that he was accompanied by Amanda. Not that Christos complained. Having two scientists with their pedigree on board for this mission was a definite bonus. From what Christos had been told by Vusumuzi Mkhize, it was Amanda who had breathed down the various scientists’ necks to come up with an explanation for the strange energy readings, while Walter reviewed each theory and sent it back for further investigation or vetoed it.
Walter rapped on the briefing room table to get everyone’s attention, he eyed the seated officers and scientists over the top of his glasses like a senior professor presiding over a lecture theater of students before fixing his attention on Christos.
