Harry Heron: Into the Unknown

by Patrick G Cox

  Laughing, Harry responded, “That will be helpful. Paddy—Midshipman Murphy—fair boxed the compass before he was taken ill, and the lieutenant not much better. I’ll ask.” Finishing his notes, he looked up as one of the saurians approached. “Hello, I am anticipated, I think.”

  In the strange hissing language and with hand gestures, the saurian indicated that it should relieve Ferghal at the helm.

  Harry considered this. “Very well. Ferghal, take Danny and find us something to eat. I shall take the first watch, and you shall take the next. We shall rotate until we can get the others to understand the helming.”

  Reluctantly, Ferghal surrendered the wheel, surprised by the manner in which the creature tested the wheel, checked the makeshift compass and, with one clawed finger, indicated the bearing to be held, seeking confirmation.

  “Aye, that’s the heading, east by south-south-west and a half west.”

  Harry chuckled. “Aye, I expect he understood that. Find us something to eat and check on our colleagues.” Stepping to the wheel, he pointed to the compass, indicated the lubber’s line and then the bearing. “Keep her so, as near as possible.”

  STANDING WITH DANNY AND FERGHAL at the helm position, Harry watched as the first of the moons rose and then the second. They’d made far better progress than he’d expected.

  Noting their angle relative to the ship, he recorded this on his note pad, saying, “I shall attempt to calculate a table to assist our navigation. I will need a number of observations and the time of the moon rise for successive days to do it.” He glanced at Ferghal and then at the compass card, checking that they were holding the course and heading he had set. He grinned at his friend. “Does it not feel good to know how to do something the others cannot?”

  “Aye, Master Harry.” Perched on top of the container they used as their accommodation, Ferghal laughed. “Though I’m thinking they’ll learn the way quickly enough as soon as they can keep their dinner in.”

  “That too.” Harry grinned. “But remember how ill we were on our first voyage.”

  “Me too,” Danny said. “I wist I could die then!”

  Laughing at the memory, Harry said to the alien helmsman, “Hold her steady. I wish to climb to the crosstrees and see if I can get a fix on the land before we lose the daylight. I will indicate the bearing if I can and must rely on you, Danny, to mark it on our compass.”

  With that, he walked forward, swung himself outboard and began the climb when he saw one of the saurians climbing after him, always keeping itself between Harry and the water.

  “I am accustomed to climbing the rigging,” he said. “You do not need to accompany me. Thank you for the consideration, though.”

  The saurian creature stared for a moment and then, with a sweeping gesture that took in the sea, Harry, the injured leader on deck and the ship, indicated its intention to remain there.

  “Oh, very well, if you insist,” Harry said, between annoyance and amusement. Reaching the crosstrees, he hauled himself upright on the yard and looked about him. He took time to study the surface of the sea to windward, noting the swell patterns and the surface texture as the wind ruffled across it. Then he looked to the eastward and tried to make out the shoreline as it caught the setting sun. He noted the line of the hills that formed a spine running south along the eastern side of the long island and searched for the headland, which he knew from the map should be a marker for the halfway point on the southerly run.

  He was on the point of giving up when the little ship lifted to a larger than normal sea, and he spotted it. He called to Danny, “Mark my direction.”

  Danny bent to the compass and then, through cupped hands, called, “I got it, Mister Her’n.”

  Harry looked again at the seascape, now rapidly darkening as the sun dropped below the horizon, and just as it vanished, leaving a brief twilight, he saw a sudden eruption and disturbance in the sea far to the west. He climbed swiftly down the ratlines, his escort still between him and the sea.

  Harry was secretly afraid that he had just been given a preview of the dreaded pleurodon.

  WRITING THE BEARING ON HIS PAD, Harry pulled the chart toward him and found the headland on it. Taking the parallel rule one of the villagers had created from his sketch, he drew a line along the bearing. Where it intersected his line drawn from the harbour and checked against bearings on other coastal features, he made a cross and circled it noting the date and time.

  Murmuring to himself, he said, “If my estimates are right and our bearings are accurate—we make good time. If I can see the stars tonight, I will have a better measure.” He became aware of an audience, and looked up to find the saurian leader and several others watching him. Embarrassed, he smiled. “My instruments are crude in the extreme, and this is a poor substitute for a proper chart, but it is all we have.”

  The saurian leader addressed the others, and they spoke among themselves as if making a decision. The leader turned to Harry, pointed to him and said very carefully, “Nav-i-ga-tor.”

  “Er, yes, after a fashion—and a poor one with these instruments.”

  The saurians spoke amongst themselves, and the leader signalled for silence. Again, he indicated Harry. “You. Expected nav-i-ga-tor.”

  “Very well,” said Harry. “If you wish.” The statement puzzled him, but clearly it meant something more to the saurians than the simple fact that he was attempting to navigate this small ship.

  To Ferghal, he said, “I shall turn in and have some sleep now. Wake me in three hours—or sooner if anything should occur. I shall take the middle watch, as I want to take some star sights.” As an afterthought, he added, “Stay away from the gunwales and make sure everyone else does too. I think one of those pleurodon creatures is out there, and I have no desire to test our boarding nets in the darkness.”

  Chapter 31

  Clash of Titans

  ABOARD THE CONSORTIUM FLAGSHIP, Chairman Khamenei watched with satisfaction as the planet of Pangaea and its moons leapt into view. The shining, jewelled dots of the two equatorial docking platforms showed plainly, as did the slightly smaller bright stars, which were two of the ships he had expected to see.

  He turned to the rest of the board. “As you can see, they are sitting targets. Gentlemen, I do not think this will take long at all.” He touched a key pad on the desk. “Admiral Hsu, you may commence the attack. We have fewer ships to deal with than you thought.”

  “Chairman....” The admiral’s voice held a note of concern. “There is something not right here. That is the Sydney, and the second ship is a cruiser, one of the goddess class, but the other ships we expected are not visible on our preliminary scans. The anti-scan device limits some of our scanning ability as well as theirs.”

  “Admiral,” snapped the chairman, “do not offer me excuses—destroy those ships and hunt down the others.” Stabbing the comlink, he leaned back. “Once we have destroyed these, we will be in a position to destroy the Vanguard and her consorts as soon as they are located. We hold the advantage—they cannot detect us.”

  He turned as a heavy cruiser and then another one were illuminated by a great flare of fire, and the frigate on her quarter suffered three explosions in rapid succession, leaving the smaller ship a shattered wreck.

  As he watched in spellbound horror, another frigate vanished in a massive flare.

  “What the devil was that?”

  “A minefield, sir.” The Admiral’s voice was dispassionate. “I suggest we withdraw until we can ascertain its extent.”

  “Nonsense, Admiral. The fleet ships have been alerted already, and I expect them to call for reinforcements any minute now. I insist that you commence the attack immediately. These losses will be avenged.”

  “OUR DRONES HAVE CONTACT, SIR. Difficult to identify from the passive scan, but it’s a squadron at least. They’ve dropped out where you anticipated, sir.”

  “Good. Give me an all ships link, and pass the coordinate
s and formation to all ships. Scan Ops—advise me the moment you have any indication of a hostile scan locking on to us.” James Heron keyed a comlink to the ship’s Command Centre. “Richard, we have them incoming, still screened. They seem to have taken the bait. I want you to execute the manoeuvre we agreed on my mark. Keep this link open. I’m about to address all ships.”

  “Execute Manoeuvre Five on your mark. Yes, sir.”

  Keying the second link, the commodore ordered, “All ships, execute orders as directed. Good luck.” The ship accelerated into the hyperjump.

  THE ENERGY SURGE AS THE VANGUARD AND HER consort went hyper alerted the Consortium ships.

  “Possible contact in our rear, Admiral, two large ships plus escorts. They were using the gas giant as a screen.”

  “Monitor for a drop-out. They’ll try to close and engage.”

  “Yes, sir. We have three more transit signatures in the asteroid belt, possibly cruiser class ships.”

  “Watch for a drop-out in firing range. Increase scanner spread. They won’t be running away.”

  The scan officer’s order focussed attention on the expected attack source, which diverted attention from the four ships in orbit, already identified as one starship and three cruisers. The restriction caused by interference from the anti-scan screen meant that the small signatures scattered among the asteroid field went unnoticed.

  “Ships dropping out directly astern, sir—two starships.”

  “Command, two starships on scan. Directly astern, closing on an attack vector.”

  “What? Is the screen functioning?”

  “Yes, sir, screen is up.” The officer paused, studying another display. “The ships’ hyperpods are running hot! They may be preparing to transit.”

  “Three more ships dropping out, sir, approaching from ahead. They’re cruisers, sir.”

  “Engage.”

  The ship shuddered as she took a hit, and the scan displays flickered, blanking for several seconds. “Sir, they’ve hit us with an EMP—it’s knocked out our screen.”

  Admiral Hsu maintained his calm as he watched the swarm of strike fighters hurtling toward his fleet. “So, they can now see us. Launch our defensive squadrons and strike craft. All ships, engage in sequence. Captain DiMaggio—engage the Vanguard.”

  “SEVEN BELLS, MISTER HER’N.” Danny took care to follow the naval tradition of not touching a sleeping man in his hammock as he whispered his wake-up call in Harry’s ear.

  Instantly alert, Harry turned his head. “Thank you, Danny. I shall come up immediately.” As the boy scampered off, Harry eased himself out of his hammock, slipped on his boots, and climbed to the deck clutching his improvised sextant.

  To his relief, the sky was clear and, despite the moonlight from the three moons, he could still pick out his navigation star. Testing his instrument carefully, he found he could line it up successfully on the horizon, and with a little difficulty, get the right line on his chosen star. As midnight approached, he took several readings, then from the angles of the holes, did a quick estimate of the declension. Some calculations on his pad confirmed his confidence in the system, his efforts watched keenly by the saurian leader.

  Moving to his improvised chart, he measured off his distance run since the last point. Checking his calculation, he found and marked the latitude. Where this intersected with his estimated track, he marked the position. Straightening, he murmured a brief prayer. “I can but hope I have guessed correctly. With no chronometer, no chart, no sextant and no navigation tables—all my calculations are little better than a guess.”

  Ferghal, watching his friend’s efforts, nodded. “It is still a great deal more than most could do, Master Harry. It gives us at least the hope of finding our destination.” He was about to go below and get some sleep when something caught his eye and Harry’s too. Brilliant bursts of light—greens, reds and occasionally brilliant white winked across the arc of sky overhead.

  “What the devil? A meteorite shower?”

  “Looks more like rockets an’ port fires, Master Harry.”

  “Not in that brilliance or in those clusters—and they’re too high.” Realisation dawned. “Quick, Danny.” The urgency in his voice spurred the boy to action. “Get below and rouse Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney! I think this is something he needs to see immediately.”

  The sub-lieutenant stared aloft with a growing sense of unease. He knew all too well what the brilliant streaks of light were and what the great bursts of different coloured flares represented. He felt completely helpless as he watched, desperate to know who was attacking, and more importantly, who was gaining the upper hand. By this time, everyone was on deck gazing in awe at the titanic display of light overhead.

  A brighter than usual flash followed by a comet trail of light as something large entered the atmosphere suggested a large ship in its death throes. The brilliant trail, separating into smaller trails as it extended, inscribed a blazing path across the night sky. Other smaller trails told of smaller craft burning up in uncontrolled re-entry and testified to the savagery of the battle.

  The sudden clatter of the sheet blocks brought Harry fully alert as the ship’s head came dangerously to wind and almost into irons. He leapt to the wheel and snapped at the saurian helmsman. “Watch your course, man! Steer small, or you’ll have us all aback.”

  The helmsman’s reaction showed that Harry’s meaning was understood even if his words weren’t, and the motion of the little ship settled quickly into its steady movement.

  Harry moved to stand next to the helm where he could watch the trim of the sails and the compass card as they dipped and surged steadily on their course. Glancing at the sky again, he saw that one of the ship stars, as he thought of the orbiting ships when they were visible to the naked eye through reflection of the sun, seemed to be emitting a series of flares. Others seemed to be getting brighter or to be flickering, and he prayed silently that Vanguard and his friends and protectors would be safe.

  THE ENGAGEMENT RAPIDLY TURNED INTO a ship-to-ship slugging match, complicated by the weaving strike craft as they targeted their opposite numbers and the larger ships.

  “Signal Ariadne, Penelope and Phoebe to take on the cruisers making for the lift docks.” The Commodore watched the display, anticipating the intentions of his enemy. His strategy of dividing his squadron seemed to be paying off as the Sydney joined in the slugging match.

  The close quarters at which they were fighting and the heated exchange made it difficult for the Consortium units to employ the usual tactic of mini-transits. Thus, they fell back on the strategy of making sudden accelerating manoeuvres using the hyperdrive to achieve short bursts of speed, moving them large distances in minimal time.

  Calling up a display, the Commodore checked on the ships closing the lift dock. Both had taken a lot of damage but were obviously preparing to launch boarders. “Flight, send the nearest strike craft you have to Lift Dock Two—they’re attempting to board it.” A movement on his main plot caught his eye. Keying his link, he ordered, “Captain Grenville, engage the big Consortium ship targeting Penelope. It’s their flagship, and I want it knocked out.”

  “I have him, sir.” From his Command Centre, Richard Grenville gave the orders to the manoeuvring team and navigator then relayed the change of target to the weapons commander. “Give him hell as we jump in close, Val.”

  “Will do.” Commander Petrocova turned to her weapons targeting team and gave a string of swift orders for a change of targets.

  The Vanguard leapt forward into a micro transit, swinging over and dropping into place parallel to and slightly below her opponent. Forewarned, Valerie’s team were ready as the ship slowed, their weapons already focusing and locking on, their first burst of fire tearing a vast opening in the other ship’s hangar spaces venting atmosphere and debris, including personnel and interceptors.

  But the Consortium ship’s captain was a man of some skill, and he moved his ship swiftly, jum
ping out of range, and returned to face the Vanguard, his own weapons doing damage as they came.

  Now it was Vanguard’s turn to make a rapid shift of position and return the compliment, beginning a cat-and-mouse exchange that gradually drew them away from the main body of ships locked in mortal combat.

  THE SMART USE OF STRATEGY, MANOEUVRING and quick-witted command all played a vital part in the successful prosecution of the battle, but there was also an element of luck. The Commodore watched as one of the Consortium starships struck a minefield and had to take evasive action as two Fleet cruisers attacked its flanks. A large explosion on the ship’s disengaged side spoke of another mine strike, and the cruisers’ captains exploited the opportunity.

  “Looks like we’ve gained the upper hand, Flags,” said the Commodore, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant winced as the ship shuddered. He pointed to one of the ship images. “Another of their heavy cruisers in trouble, sir. Looks like he’s lost his hyperpods.”

  “Yes, but still fighting.” Several weapons bursts showed. “He’ll be unable to manoeuvre much longer.” His attention switched to the second enemy cruiser. “Our mines are taking a toll on them as well. Sydney’s holding her own, and Bellerophon’s giving her target hell.”

  “The ship that was trying to engage us has attacked Bellerophon, sir.”

  “I see her. Order Penelope to support Bellerophon.” He watched the battle plot. “Contact Flight Command. Tell him to send in a strike force against the ship that Bellerophon has crippled.”

  SEETHING WITH FURY, THE CHAIRMAN WATCHED as the Fleet squadron used their minefield to limit his ships’ ability to manoeuver. “Am I surrounded by incompetents?” he fumed. The ship shuddered again as it took hits from the Vanguard. “There is only one explanation for their ability to target us. Someone has given them the key to our screen. I want to know who betrayed us. If someone doesn’t tell me now, I can assure you, I will find out.”