Josiah West 1: Kaleidoscope

by C. T. Christensen

  “Brilliant idea, Chief, make it happen. Hmm, a Gardener has a passenger section; are there any sizeable single drop groups waiting here?”

  “That, sir, is also a brilliant idea.” He started tapping on the display again, “I have...seventeen people going to the Starline Research Facility and two that are going to the Caldwell.” He looked back at Josiah, “A fairly direct route and no returns. It would save everybody some time if you could do it, sir.”

  “That sounds perfect, Chief, but can you scrape up a co-pilot; the Gardener is a two pilot rated boat.”

  He smiled at Josiah, “I have an ensign that is working on her rating and would kill to get off her desk and fly with you.”

  Josiah smiled back, “Ok, Chief, it sounds like a plan. How soon can you get it organized?”

  He stood up from the desk, “Let’s say thirty minutes, tops.” He pointed toward the apron, “It’s that first one, number 246D1. Excuse me, sir; I have to go put the lash to a few people.”

  “Do your thing, Chief, and send my co-pilot out ASAP, I’ll be at the boat.”

  Josiah left the terminal, walked toward the Gardener, and started his pre-flight inspection as he approached. As was typical of assault and cargo boats, the personnel and cargo areas were placed at the bottom for fast loading and unloading with the systems section on top. The stub wings were rooted at the top of the cargo section and angled down slightly with the drive coil pods attached along the outer edge. Smaller, personnel-only, and light cargo shuttles usually had the machine area below for easy maintenance. The Gardeners were a mainstay in the cargo and light transport role. This one looked to be in good shape; Josiah liked what he was seeing.

  He walked around the nose and along the side; he ran his hand along the gleaming gray side of the fuselage while eyeing the landing struts, pads, and the underside of the stub and coil. The rear cargo hatch was open and down in its ramp position. He walked around it and was starting up the other side when a loaded cargo platform started toward him from the building behind the terminal. At the same time a door at the back end of the terminal building opened and a rather tall raven-haired young woman in greens started in his direction. She waved at the driver of the cargo platform.

  When she arrived, she saluted, “Lieutenant West, I’m Nora Parente. Chief Rosenberg says you need a right-seater.”

  Josiah returned her salute as he looked her over. She was--to put it simply--drop dead gorgeous. She had to be 185 centimeters, short, almost boyishly cut curly hair, eyes so dark they had to be black, cheekbones that would give Molly Shepard a run for her money, and light caramel-cream colored skin that could only be described as perfect. She had third-class wings over her left breast pocket. Nice breast too! “You’re on a desk wearing greens?”

  “Sir, around this place I do everything. I do so much cargo handling that I have a first-class loader rating. I haven’t had a single day in the last four months that I haven’t had to wallow around in some mess.”

  That seemed reasonable, “I see only a third-class pilot rating. That’s a long way from driving one of these things. Have you had any time in a Gardener?”

  She looked slightly annoyed at his observation, “Again, sir, I do everything around here. I have more than enough logged time for my second-class, but we have trouble getting the final check ride set up. I have twenty hours Gardener simulator time, most of it involving improbable disasters. I have fifty-four hours right seat on actual missions, and five hours left seat training time. It’s pushing my rating to the edge of a cliff, I know, but I have always brought back all of the paint I left with.”

  I wish I could say that. Hmmm…kind of cocky. “Let me see your logbook.” She looked surprised and, maybe, a bit offended by that request, but pulled out her pad, opened it, and selected the proper file. He took it and started checking the entries and instructor sign-offs. After a minute he looked up from the screen, “Are these entries accurate?”

  This time there was no doubt, she was a bit offended, “To the minute...sir.”

  A might testy, too. He continued checking the entries for another minute before he handed the pad back. “Ensign Parente, you are now on your check ride for your second-class rating. You will fly this mission as PIC. I will act as a minimal right-seater, and I will expect you to handle everything that can possibly be handled from the left seat. Do anything that you believe is necessary for a safe flight. If I have to intervene, you will fail the check ride, and this will just be more logged time. I might ask questions; consider that as just part of the exam. Have you been briefed on our mission, and do you feel ready for this?”

  The irritation was gone; it was replaced by wide eyes and an open mouth, “I...yes, sir.”

  He thought it was interesting the way he could almost see the wheels turning. She looked around with a calculating air then took off at a run to the driver of the second cargo platform, “Marty,” she yelled, “what’s the load-up?” She was back in a minute, “Ok, a full bay with even distribution, I can start the pre-flight.”

  Josiah walked behind her--it was nice walking behind her--as she did the external check. He was glad to see her sliding her fingers along the fuselage. He thought of it as something that “real” pilots did.

  They entered the boat through the personnel hatch in the passenger compartment just behind the command deck. A tech was checking a system display on the command deck bulkhead and comparing it to a data pad he was holding. He turned to Josiah, “Sir, all systems an--” Josiah just held up a finger and then pointed at Parente. He got the idea and gave her the ground crew report briefing; she signed off on the pad he handed her, “Chief, would you please post someone at the hatch to keep our passengers off until I’m ready?”

  “Yes ma’am, no problem.”

  They stepped through the hatch to the command deck, and she took the left seat. Josiah stood behind the right seat and watched as she initiated the reactor start sequence and code-locked the drive system. Active drive coils were deadly to living organisms--like humans--within a ten meter range depending on power settings. She was now the only one that could activate the drive system without getting a logic tech to clear the lock. Satisfied that the start sequence was running correctly, and that all interlocks were engaged, she got out of the seat and turned to Josiah, “Time to see how loading is going.”

  The passenger compartment behind the command deck had twenty-four utility seats, two web-net luggage areas, and smallish ceramo-plast ports along both sides of the hull. It wasn’t luxurious, but it wasn’t intended for long trips. At the center of the rear bulkhead was a hatch that led to the cargo area. As they stepped through, they were looking at the side of a container that the first cargo platform had brought out and rolled onto the boat. They went around to the side and down the narrow space between the line of massive containers and the hull. She checked the load screen and top and bottom clamp indicators on each container as they went. They stopped short of the last loaded container and watched as the handlers rolled in the rest of them.

  Parente turned her head toward Josiah, “I’ve been working with these people for almost a year; they’re very good. There’s so much pressure to get the job done in less time than it should take that nobody makes mistakes. I’m sure that a person like you,” she nodded at his wings, “has noticed how clean and correct this boat is. I have no qualms about jumping into anything on this flight line and blasting off without a pre-flight check if I had too.”

  The last container locked into place, and she waved at the driver as the platform turned away. When it was clear, she palmed the hatch activator and held it there as it pivoted up and locked. After an examination of the individual lock indicator lights around the door perimeter, they continued their walk around the containers and back to the passenger compartment. After sealing that hatch, she stuck her head outside, “You can come onboard now.”

  “Lieutenant, would you please see to our passengers?” She smiled as she said that. She well knew that that annoying
job went to the, normally, lower life form that occupied the right seat. “I won’t do anything critical without you. I’ll set up the flight plan with traffic control and make sure the Caldwell knows that a staff officer is arriving.”

  Josiah held his hand up at that, “Whoa, I would just as soon that was not announced.”

  She got a questioning look on her face, “But, Lieutenant, regulations require that I have an ‘Admiral’ call sign with a staff officer aboard so they will probably know anyway, and my CO would have my hide for that breach of courtesy.”

  “Well, alright, but be very clear to the Caldwell that my visit is of a personal nature and not official.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll be very clear on that.”

  She entered the command deck; Josiah turned to the passengers that were busily stowing their luggage and finding a seat. This staff officer thing could be annoying.

  Josiah had been facing forward while he talked to Parente. He now faced the group of junior officers and enlisted personnel. A Lieutenant Commander that had finished shoving a couple of bags behind the web-net finally looked at Josiah, “GROUP...ATTEN-N-SHUN.” The Commander’s loud command resulted in the usual confusion as everyone tried to figure out who was kidding and why. Eventually, the whole group was braced at attention, and the Lieutenant Commander was saluting, “Sir, Lieutenant Commander Mannheim, ranking member of this group.”

  Josiah took a moment to get over the surprise. Very annoying! He returned the salute, “I thank you for the courtesy, Commander, but my presence here is strictly unofficial; I have been pressed into service as I, too, am headed for the Caldwell. At ease everyone, and finish stowing your gear and belting up.” As they settled into their seats he made one last head count, “Ok, we are headed for the Starline Facility and then to the Caldwell. If you are not going to either one of those then you are on the wrong bus.”

  That got a laugh. Commander Mannheim spoke up again, “Lieutenant, I have to say that I have a sense of relief knowing that a staff officer with a CI rating is flying this boat. I admit it worried me to think that that Ensign…that...girl...was our pilot.”

  Josiah thought about it for a second. Awww...why not! He smiled at the Commander, “Actually, she is your pilot. I’m giving her the check ride for her second-class rating.” At that point he palmed the plate that closed and sealed the outer hatch, “Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.” As he turned to enter the command deck, he heard Mannheim mumble something about “second-class rating.”

  Parente had her work cap off and the com headset on. She turned her head toward him as he belted into the right seat and put his own com set on. She was smiling and spoke in a low voice, “I heard that, sir; you have a nasty streak.”

  “One of my most endearing traits.”

  He finished fastening his harness and went through the right-seater check list while Parente started activating flight control systems. His last item was a check of the access interlock panel to his right. The line of green icons showed that all through-hull hatches were sealed. He then tapped a command into the screen in front of him that vented a high-pressure air tank and raised the pressure in the boat by five millibars. Noting that the pressure remained constant he declared, “Sealed up; pressure in the boat.”

  Parente went through her final litany, “Reactors at critical, hydraulic pressure in the green and stable, environmental systems in the green, com system tested and set to standard order, nav systems zeroed, inertial compensators to reactive 1, drive cross-link verified; primary, secondary and tertiary links set to stand-by and standard consensus mode, drive set to stand-by and awaiting release. Sir, I have a green board.”

  Josiah made a last scan of the screens and indicators in front of him, “I, also, have a green board.”

  Parente entered the code she had used to lock down the drive system then raised her hand with the fingers pointing forward and the palm down. The rating that had been standing patiently twenty meters in front of the boat came to attention. She raised her hand to point straight up indicating that they were ready to lift. The rating did a last check to make sure there was nothing near the boat. He then stuck out his hands with palms up indicating it was clear to lift.

  She touched the com switch on her left attitude grip, “Tampa Ground Control, this is Admiral two-zero; ready to lift.”

  “Admiral two-zero, you are cleared for north departure to climb corridor Victor 4 as filed; Contact Orbital Traffic Control on channel 4 on entry.”

  She touched the switch again, “Admiral two-zero; north departure to Victor 4.” She placed her feet on the power level pedals and right hand on the right attitude grip. With her left hand she slid open a small cover on the armrest and touched the pad inside, “Going neutral.”

  Drive coils could be built with a variety of output capabilities, but as a general rule they were all built with maximum thrust capability oriented toward the “forward” direction of the vessel. The other directions--left, right, up, down and backwards--were a compromise determined by how large, heavy and expensive you were willing to live with and by how much power there was available to feed them. Tugs were the primary example of large, heavy, and expensive with lots of available power. But, even their common design involved a double set of drive coils with one set oriented for a heavy reverse effort. Almost all drive coil type vessels designed for planetary surface operations had the ability to lift straight up against a 1G gravity field using the coils even if the ship was fully loaded; the problem was that the power levels that were required to do that created the largest possible danger zone. So, for the last thirty years, all drive coil vessels short of deep-space-only types were fitted with a GS system on the underside that cancels any gravity field and gives the vessel a “neutral buoyancy.” This allowed the drive coils to be able to maneuver the ship in any direction with minimum power settings when deep in a gravity-well.

  Parente placed her left hand on the left attitude grip and swept a look to the left side of the boat, “Clear left.” Josiah did his check to the right, “Clear right.” They lifted straight up for 200 meters and then forward away from the buildings before swinging north to intercept the Tampa area climb corridor that went straight up 200 kilometers.

  “Landing pads up.”

  Josiah pushed the slide switch at the end of the center console to the upward position. In a few seconds the six indicators alongside the switch went from a blue ‘DOWN’ to a yellow ‘UP’. “Landing pads are up.”

  Josiah noted her handling of the ship with critical attention at this point. Most flying was done on auto-pilot because of the speeds involved and the usual inability to see any problems before you were on top of them. Takeoff and landing were the two parts of a trip when the pilot got to actually fly the ship. A vehicle designed to move in three axes without atmospheric influence had a control system that required skilled coordination to say the least. Josiah was pleased to see the smoothness and skill that she displayed. A natural, he thought.

  They entered the climb corridor at the west side and rotated to a vertical climb in the “09” slot or sometimes called the “9 o’clock” slot that was reserved for high speed or critical traffic. The “Admiral” call sign gave them critical status and Parente had taken advantage of it. On entering the 09 slot and beginning the climb, she switched to auto-pilot and watched the screens as the boat stabilized its alignment and accelerated to 1000kph. “OTC this is Admiral two-zero, I am in the zero-niner slot at one-triple zero, say traffic my slot.”

  “Admiral two-zero acknowledge zero-niner at one-triple zero. Traffic times two your slot.”

  “OTC, Admiral two-zero say range to traffic my slot.”

  “Admiral two-zero, range is five-zero and eight-zero at one-triple zero, no conflict.”

  “Admiral two-zero.”

  She moved her elbows back on the armrests and interlaced her fingers in front of her while her eyes kept sweeping the screens, “That matches my readings. ETA to Starline is 58 minutes from lift-off
.”

  Josiah turned his head in her direction, “My readouts say something closer to 54 minutes.”

  She kept her eyes on her screens, “A dose of reality, sir, I figure metal-to-metal, and those Starline TC people tend not to be the brightest bulbs on the string. Hopefully, our Admiral call sign will help.”

  Ten minutes later they were reaching the top of the climb corridor. “Admiral two-zero, transfer to Starline direct as filed, monitor OTC on one-niner-two.”

  “Admiral two-zero, transferring to Starline direct and switching to channel one-niner-two.”

  She did nothing but watch as the auto-pilot followed the flight plan, aligned the boat onto the traffic corridor to the Starline Facility, changed com channels and ran the drive up to 5G’s. Fifteen minutes later the power came off the drive and the boat rotated for deceleration. She watched as the nav system made its calculations and, at the calculated moment, ran the drive back up to 5G’s. Thirteen minutes later they were coasting up to the mid-Atlantic synchronous orbit of the Starline Research Facility. The landing pads touched the traffic deck at 57.5 minutes after takeoff.

  CALDWELL

  37 minutes later they were on final approach to the Caldwell’s cargo reception deck.

  “Caldwell, Admiral two-zero, I have visual and automatic alignment on bay 1, continuing approach.”

  “Admiral two-zero, alignment confirmed; you are clear for entry and contact.”

  “Admiral two-zero.”

  Parente had her hands and feet near the controls in case any automatic system failed. Unlike the arrival at Starline where it was only necessary to touch down on a landing deck and unload passengers through a pressurized walkway, this was a full cargo situation that required the boat to enter the Caldwell. It did so by entering a long airlock structure. With the boat in and down on its pads the outer hatch sealed behind them.

  She went through the post-landing check list; placing most systems in stand-by and locking down the drive. When she had finished securing the boat she turned to Josiah, “Ready to vent.” Josiah nodded and tapped his com switch, “Caldwell, Admiral two-zero is secure and venting.” He then entered a command that vented a high-pressure air tank into the airlock. This method of vessels arriving from the surface bringing their own air supply to fill the airlock kept the host ship from wasting their supply because it wasn’t possible to pump an airlock down to near zero in any convenient time span; some air was always lost. After pressures in the airlock and receiving deck had equalized, the sides of the long lock structure lifted and slid up over the top to give complete access to the boat.