The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

by John Thornton

  “Maybe Tiffany is working on reestablishing contact?”

  “I hope so. I feel lost without Tiffany’s feedback and advice,” Gretchen said.

  “Do not forget Tiffany’s humor.” Paul laughed a bit. “So what do we call this place? Inaccessible Island sounds dark and mysterious and takes too long to say.”

  Gretchen looked at Paul in the fading light. Her eyes were filled with love and compassion for him. “I say we call it home.”

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  John Thornton lives with his wife; two silly dogs who love to pull on the lease and chase rabbits. Two ancient cats allow us to share their home. The best days are when John’s grown daughters and their husbands come to visit.

  Danger on the Vanguard

  Book 3 Colony Ship Vanguard

  John Thornton

  Copyright © 2014 John Thornton

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13:

  978-1499395457

  ISBN-10:

  1499395450

  DEDICATION

  For my wife and daughters. Thanks for helping me dream.

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Cover art by Jon Hrubesch

  Back cover by Dedefox

  1 unwelcome surprise

  The yellow warning lights stopped flashing as the hanger bay doors slid into their open position and revealed the scattering of stars on the backdrop of the blackness of space. It was a sight Zoya had seen before, but never when she had been in the pilot’s seat.

  “Remember there is danger,” Eleonora told her daughter Zoya. “Flying a model 14S shuttle, even though it is small, is very much like the bigger shuttles. We will start by…”

  “Momma, I know what to do. I have watched you since I was little. I can do this easily,” Zoya said. “Even wearing this stupid spacesuit in this tiny ship.”

  “Zoechka, this is serious,” Eleonora replied.

  Zoya knew when her mother used her full name it was indeed serious and so she relented. “Forgive me momma. I will follow your instructions exactly.”

  “Yes, Zoya, you will,” Eleonora replied. Her eyes twinkled as she looked in compassion on her daughter. Those eyes were so dark brown that they nearly matched her pupils, yet love shined brightly from them. “Or you will not have any flight today at all, and you will not become a pilot in the Free Rangers.”

  “Thank you for teaching me. I apologize, for was too eager,” Zoya replied. Her own hair was just about the same shade of dark brown as was her mother’s, but her eyes were a hazel color, more like her father’s. “I will not interrupt again.”

  “I doubt that very much, my daughter. But as I was saying, there is danger every time a new pilot is tested. That is why we are both wearing the spacesuits. In fact, when we get outside of the Vanguard, you will place your helmet on and will operate this shuttle as if I am not here. This is your testing flight, and I require that of you.”

  “But momma!” Zoya replied, then caught herself for interrupting. “Please proceed.”

  Eleonora chuckled a bit at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “I know, we normally do not wear the suits, but how will you know what they are like if they stay packed away forever. They are not for suspended animation; they are for us to know how to use. So today we use them. Now, the hanger bay has been cycled and vacuum surrounds us. When the observation deck lights shift to red, be ready for the loss of gravity manipulation.”

  “Yes, momma.”

  “Only after that happens, may you engage the thrusters and move this 14S shuttle off the deck.”

  The observation deck, which had a large section of clear permalloy, jutted out from the rear of the hanger bay. Zoya’s father, Carlos, watched from that secure spot. He was part of the service crews who maintained the shuttles for the Free Rangers. Nonetheless, he was proud of his daughter for being like her mother, a person of courage and skill who sought to fly the shuttles which were the lifelines of the Free Rangers.

  The light around the observation deck shifted color to red, and the loss of gravity was felt immediately.

  “Now do I use the thrusters?” Zoya said before her mother could give the instruction.

  “Yes, my impatient child. Take us up and hover here in the hanger bay,” Eleonora replied.

  With tedious precision, Zoya selected the controls for the thrusters. The small instrument panel in front of her had numerous buttons, levers, and switches. Some of those were inert, due to the lack of any artificial intelligence systems interactions. Others were not ever used because the old communication system did not function, and had not for as long as Zoya could remember.

  The boxy shaped shuttle lifted ever so gently from the hanger bay deck. Zoya used the ship’s bottom thrusters to give it lift, and then used the ship’s top thrusters to counteract that and keep it neutral in the zero gravity. Zoya, as her mother had taught her, always thought of the top of the ship as up, and the bottom of the ship as down when in zero gravity.

  “Momma, may I take us outside now?” Zoya asked, the fervor was heavy in her words.

  “Yes, my child. Take us slowly out of the hanger bay and let us exit the Vanguard. You are in command of this flight.”

  Zoya carefully fired the thrusters with just a tap to bring the shuttle to movement. She adjusted their trajectory so as to perfectly align them with the open doors. The shuttle floated over the wide yellow stripes which were painted on the permalloy deck outlining the landing zone.

  “Now, my smart daughter, if this was a trade mission, what things would you have also had to do before departure?” Eleonora asked.

  “In addition to making sure the shuttle had fuel, and I inspected it for proper operations, I would have made sure the Trade Master had been paid.”

  “Yes, that is good. And?”

  “I would have made sure I knew the route to the destination,” Zoya stated.

  “Yes, that is important. And?”

  There was a momentary pause as the shuttle glided past the thick hanger doors and ventured into space. Zoya was careful to make sure that the ship moved right through the center of the open hanger bay doors.

  “That was nicely done, my daughter,” Eleonora praised her. “So we are outside the ship now. But what else would you have done if this had been a real trade mission?”

  “Well, I would have kissed you and father goodbye.”

  “So you would have gone on a trade mission with an empty shuttle? You might as well have taken a runabout,” Eleonora laughed.

  “Oh, momma, of course I would have secured the cargo!”

  “And what things most need securing for zero gravity?” Eleonora asked.

  “Everything!” Zoya giggled.

  “Indeed, everything needs to be secured for zero gravity,” Eleonora stated. “But what is easily lost in zero gravity?”

  Zoya recited off a list. “Liquids in breakable containers. Live animals. Perishables. Delicate equipment. And flammable or explosive materials.”

  Eleonora pulled out a sheaf of documents, manuals for the various shuttles and quizzed her daughter. She posed questions about the flying of different models of shuttle, the trading between destinations, and general Free Ranger knowledge. Zoya answered every question perfectly.

  The view outside was spectacular, but very familiar to both Eleonora and Zoya. The shuttle moved away from the hanger bay and the doors silently shut behind them. The stars were myriad and of various intensities, all on the blackness of space. The exterior hull of the Vanguard reflected back some of that starlight, but the deeply irregular surface of the ship with its various projections, systems, equipment, boxes, pipe-work, ducts, and apparatus mottled that starlight into every shade of grey imaginable. There were occasional hull surface lights, which lit small areas of the hull in various colors, but the vista stretched away into the distance. It was predominantly gray.

  “Now what is our destination?” Zoya asked. “You told me to be prepared for any of the
known trading centers.”

  “So Zoya, you decide. This is your testing flight, and you need to make the decision. To what destination do you wish to travel?”

  “Momma? You will really let me decide?” Zoya asked in amazement.

  “Yes. A pilot needs to know where she is going. Usually that is decided before departure, but in this case, you decide now.”

  “Can we fly over the Wilds? I would like to see where the disaster happened,” Zoya replied.

  “Why am I not surprised? Yes, I know it is probably my fault for having you memorize the route to those poor souls' safe zone. I did not want that knowledge to be lost like those Free Ranger’s lives were lost. You do know we cannot dock there, correct? And we will not really see the Wilds?”

  “Yes momma, of course. I know the difference between a hanger bay and a habitat.”

  “So since we cannot dock at the destination you selected, your docking test will just be back at our home?” Eleonora was stretching out the suspense of Zoya’s question. “That is rather boring is it not?”

  “Yes momma. I know. Docking and departure are always boring. So may we go there? To the Wilds?”

  “You are the pilot. Just remember, even though docking and departure are routine, you cannot ignore being careful. Danger can come unexpectedly, even in a maneuver as boring as a docking or departure. I said you could decide the destination. If you wish to fly to a dead hanger bay, who am I to stop you? Just do not be too disappointed when all you see is vacated hangers. What little could be salvaged there was already done by others. So you know the route?”

  “Yes momma. That route and the others are memorized and will forever be in my mind,” Zoya replied. “I know the danger of getting off the known paths and routes.”

  “So put on your bubble helmet, and I will sit back and observe you as you fly to your selected destination. Pretend that you are all alone with a valuable cargo of commodities. Show me how well you can do. If I need to, I will put on my own bubble helmet and we can converse over the short range transmitters, but I want to see how you do without me telling you every little detail.” Eleonora gave her daughter a warm grin.

  “Yes, momma. I had sort of hoped you had forgotten about me wearing the full suit. It is so bulky and so clumsy.” Zoya put the bubble helmet on and sealed it to the rest of her gray and red suit.

  Eleonora nodded and gestured for the mission to begin.

  Zoya manipulated the controls and the shuttle began its journey across the hull of the Vanguard. She sighted in on distinctive places on the hull which were landmarks for her to use for navigation. She made the correct turns, and alteration of course as needed. The route was not the most familiar one she knew, but it was memorized and exactly as she expected.

  Everything did look normal and routine until, they reached the hanger bays which had once been the busy and active home of a safe zone of Free Rangers. As her mother had told her, the hanger bays were dark recesses which seemed nearly empty. The large doors were still open, and looked like they had suffered some structural damage. There were some burnt marks on the exterior sections of one frame. Zoya considered that the scorching might have been from explosive damage or it might be some kind of repair attempts. Zoya’s eyes traced the marks which gave her the impression of a rough outline of a medium sized shuttle. The stories she had heard of hundreds of Free Rangers being slaughtered by automacubes haunted her mind. Sure, everyone knew the Central Planning Office was hostile to Free Rangers and would sometimes arrest them as ‘smugglers’ and rarely even execute them. That was understood, the CPO did that. And yes, there was the danger of flying shuttles around the Vanguard. Not to mention the always present danger of the Roe, the people suffering from the Outbreak who lurked among decks and corridors outside the safe zones and between the habitats. All that being known, still the carnage she had heard about here, that massacre, was unusual in its violence and in its scope.

  A knuckle tapping on her bubble helmet brought her attention back on the controls. Her mother rotated her finger round and round and then pointed over her shoulder. Zoya knew that was a signal for her to plot the course back to their home safe zone and begin the return trip.

  Zoya easily turned the shuttle and engaged the thrusters to head back to Hanger Bay 984, C Cylinder, the Woods, when the unexpected happened.

  Wham!

  Suddenly, the shuttle bucked and jarred severely. The two people inside it were thrown sideways, against their restraining harnesses, by the lurching and spinning of the craft. The vehicle careened away from the flight path. The interior lighting flickered and was replaced by the dull glow of red warning lights. ‘Alert’ flashed on the displays in front of Zoya. ‘Alert…Alert…Alert’

  From the view ports the stars rapidly came into view and then were replaced by the hull, and then the stars came back, over and over. The shuttle was whirling about. The paper manual was floating about, and the bubble helmet and gloves which Eleonora had secured next to her came free from the netting and were bouncing about the cabin.

  Eleonora grabbed for the control panel and ran diagnostics while Zoya used the thrusters to stop the swinging rotation of the shuttle. Zoya saw the hull of the Vanguard slow down then come to a halt as she adjusted the thrusters to keep the craft in place.

  Eleonora did not find any primary mechanical systems failures or malfunctions, and could not understand what was happening. Seeing that her daughter had the shuttle back under control she started doing analysis of secondary systems. They too were reading normal.

  Wham!

  The shuttle shook violently. This time Zoya felt something impact the side of the shuttle and knock it about with great force. She ignited all the thrusters and got some control back, but was unsure of the direction of travel. She looked out and saw the hull was moving away from them, then remembered that it was the shuttle that must be moving away. She corrected that with another adjustment of the thrusters, but then saw that they had been carried over away from the habitat where the hanger bays were. They were in flight between that habitat cylinder and another one.

  Wham! Wham!

  The shuttle bucked under the impacts of something yet again. It rocked and jumped with stress. It whirled violently. Again the shuttle was out of control. This time something had smacked directly into the view port just to Zoya’s left side.

  Zoya and Eleonora looked in terror as the clear permalloy, which constituted the view port, did the unthinkable. It cracked. Eleonora was shocked and fascinated at the same instant, as she had never known anything able to simply crack permalloy. Permalloy was spun into shapes by making it in a pseudo-liquid manner and spraying in out using compacted layers. It then dried into the hardest material known, and when spun properly was in the exact shape intended. The view ports were more than a few centimeters thick. In repair settings in the hanger bays, she had cut permalloy, both clear and opaque, many times, using vibration saws, drills and other tech tools. She had also welded permalloy parts together with the proper equipment. She had even helped to spin out new liquefied permalloy for manufacture of parts. But she wondered, ‘What could hit the shuttle and crack permalloy?’

  The crack spread, and Zoya looked at her mother in alarm. Eleonora glanced over at Zoya and saw her daughter’s spacesuit was secure and intact: air supply in-place, seals established, and Zoya was belted into the chair. She then reached for her own bubble helmet and gloves which were needed to secure her own spacesuit. They were loose in the cabin. ‘Is it possible the permalloy will actually break?’ Her mind hesitated at the thought. “Can that really happen?” she said aloud. Her rational and mechanical mindset had never considered that permalloy could be broken in space. “If that happens? We....”

  Wham!

  The shuttle again was stuck, and the cracks in the transparent permalloy rippled outward. Then there was a slight popping sound as the interior layer of the transparent permalloy shredded and peeled away from the outer layers. Small shards of transparent permalloy fl
oated about the cabin of the shuttle. “It really might break!” Eleonora cried as she grabbed again for the loose gloves and bubble helmet.

  The ship was wildly gyrating and Zoya was unable to get the thrusters to fire properly to stop those swings. Instead she reached over and grabbed the bubble helmet for her mother and pulled it back. She then placed it over her momma’s head and locked it into place. Eleonora connected in the air hose to her helmet and slipped on the gloves completing the spacesuit. The seal was now established. The transparent permalloy of the view port was still cracking and shredding more of the materials.