Harry was glad that this observation was lost on the rest of the group, so focussed they were on the flight traffic control system and the landing control for the docking bays where a massive barge was entering the bay. He saw no need to talk about some of the things they’d done on Vanguard. As he joined the others, he was conscious of Arno’s silent appraisal of him.
The group moved out of the Flight Control Centre, and Harry found himself next to Arno as they made their way to the next station on their tour.
“I’ve heard that you are a navigation specialist,” remarked Arno. “They say that you are from another time.”
“’Fraid so.” Shrugging, Harry smiled. “My friends and I are here by accident, and we can’t go back, so we have to make the best of it.” He looked at Arno. “Is your brother really such a very good flyer?”
Arno glanced at Harry. “He thinks he is the best!” He grimaced. “And he never lets me forget it.”
Midshipman Barclay emerged from the Weapons Control Centre at the head of his group.
“There’s nothing here for you, fossil. They don’t use swords and bows and arrows on this ship.” He sneered at Harry, adding in a remark directed at Arno, “Heron and his sidekick O’Connor shouldn’t be allowed on board. They belong in a lab somewhere being dissected, or in a glass case on display so people can see what fossilised humans look like.”
Harry flushed angrily, but Arno beat him to a retort. “You have that incorrect. Herr Heron is not the fossil; es sind Leute wie Sie that need that treatment — as a warning to the rest of your kind.”
His icy glare and the tilt of his head coupled with the tight-lipped sneer as he said this made everyone present feel as if Barclay had suddenly been caught in a freezer unit.
The midshipman accompanying Barclay’s group smiled sourly. To Arno he said, “Typisch! Ich erwische immer die schwarzen Schafe.” He signalled his group to follow him.
Those in both groups who spoke German laughed as Barclay flushed a deep red. Harry could only guess that something had been said that was not complimentary to Barclay, and was left wondering what it might be as the two groups parted. He was certain, though, that Barclay would retaliate, not to Arno who made the retort, but to himself, and he said as much to Arno, explaining that he was Barclay’s favourite whipping boy. The other acknowledged that this was expected, but assured Harry that they would be on their guard.
The remainder of the familiarisation tour passed without incident, and the encounter with Barclay was soon forgotten as Harry focussed on everything he needed to remember to gain the maximum benefit from the cruise.
“MIDSHIPMAN BARCLAY, YOU LEFT THIS ON THE BARGE.” Lieutenant-Commander Vallance held out a holdall. “I assume it’s yours. It has your name on it.”
Surprise almost made Eon Barclay refuse the proffered item, then he realised what it was. “Er, thanks, sir. I forgot it when we disembarked.”
“You want to take more care of your belongings.” The words conveyed a hidden meaning.
Eon’s mind raced. Was Commander Vallance a part of this? Or was he just the messenger handing on something because it had been “found” on the barge with his name on it? All he knew for certain was that he now held the keys to the operation, and he must hand these over to another if that man gave him the correct password. “I will, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“See you do.” The Commander returned the salute and walked away.
With his habitual scowl back in place, Barclay walked to where his friends waited. “I’ve got the stuff. Now you’ll see.” He smiled suddenly and punched Miles on the shoulder. “You guys can look forward to a nice reward once this comes off.”
THE YOTTIES SETTLED INTO THE SHIPBOARD ROUTINE aboard the DGK, as her crew had dubbed their ship. Curious as ever, Harry took the trouble to search the ship’s data files for the origin of the name and discovered the fascinating story of the Markgraf of Brandenburg who had not liked Bach’s music enough to employ him. As Harry loved the music of Bach — and revelled in being able to access it at any time — he had studied this and the rest of the Bach story with interest.
The navigating officer watched Harry plotting in the waypoints for a transit. “You enjoy the navigation, Midshipman?” he asked.
“Aye, sir. Working with the ship’s mind is much easier than using a slate and tables.”
“Slate and tables?”
“Oh, my apologies, sir. Aboard the Spartan, I did the calculations for latitude on a slate, but used the logarithm tables to simplify it.”
The Lieutenant paused as he considered this. “You had no NavComp? What sort of ship was this?”
Realising the Lieutenant didn’t know where he’d learned navigation, Harry explained.
The Lieutenant laughed. “I expect the calculus needed for our transits would be too complex for that.”
Surprised, Harry blurted, “Oh, no, sir, it is a simple calculation if one understands the formulae and the process, especially if one uses the logarithms correctly.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But perhaps I’ll set you a little exercise to test your claim later.” Straightening, the Lieutenant studied the display. “Transfer that to the helm.” Touching his link, he said, “Command, transit coordinates ready.”
Chapter 12 – Suspicion
Ferghal felt a glow of satisfaction. The Electrical Engineer Officer, Lieutenant Commander Reuter, had a reputation for never considering any cadet’s efforts as being good enough, yet he grudgingly complimented Ferghal on his skill after watching him work through a series of complex drills designed to test damage control procedures and ensure that the ship never lost power.
“Mr O’Connor, you seem to have a good understanding of the processes, but don’t get too sure of yourself. One mistake could be disastrous for everyone.”
“Aye, sir,” responded Ferghal, flattered. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me, Cadet. You’ve still got a lot to learn before you can be trusted to do this unsupervised. But you’ll do well enough for now.” He handed Ferghal a data recorder. “Report to your Divisional Officer and give him that with my compliments.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Ferghal saluted and hurried away, oblivious of the amused expression on the officer’s face.
“THE INSTALLATION OF THE DISRUPTION UNITS IS COMPLETE, sir.” The Warrant Officer went through the motions of checking a work rota.
“Good. I have received the trigger unit.” The Lieutenant grimaced. “That arrogant idiot who delivered it could blow the whole operation. Thankfully he doesn’t know enough to be much of a risk.”
The Warrant Officer nodded. “The big midshipman that almost botched the last exercise? Ja. Thinks himself better than he is. Daddy’s important and has money, so he thinks he can pull rank that he doesn’t have.”
The Lieutenant shrugged. “If all goes smoothly, we will be with the Consortium soon, and so will he.” Glancing round to verify that no one was within earshot, he added, “Make sure Giorgio is ready to join us in the escape pod if anything goes wrong.”
“I will.” The Warrant Officer hesitated. “Can it go wrong? I thought the idea was for us to disable the ship, they board and seize her, and we deactivate the disruptors.”
“Yes, but that was before some of our people were transferred and replaced.” The Lieutenant pretended to concentrate on a piece of equipment while a TechRate walked past. When all was clear again, he said, “Now it’s just us and the four from the College. And I don’t know which of the officers sent with the midshipmen are on our side. One of them must be, or he could not have brought the disruption unit triggers on board. He had to have been able to get past the security checks.”
“But surely that doesn’t change the plan. The devices are in place. Everything’s a go now.”
“Perhaps. We’ll do our part. The rest is up to the Almirante.”
THE GUNROOM WAS EMPTY, WHICH SUITED THE LIEUTENANT perfectly. Entering with hi
s test instruments in hand, he checked the cabin allocations, walked to the cabin occupied by Harry and studied the plan of the air circulation ducts.
“Open the vent, Hans.”
“Jawohl, Herr Lieutenant.” The TechRate removed the grill.
The Lieutenant handed Hans a small device. “Push it as far as possible into the duct to the cabin, but not too far. We don’t want him to see it through the grill.”
Hans did as instructed then replaced the grill. “Done, Lieutenant. A good place to hide your hyperlink transmitter, but why this cabin?”
“It is the cabin of one of the pair who must be eliminated.” Standing aside he paused while the android steward entered then stepped out into the corridor. When the door shut, he explained. “If the signal is traced before the Almirante engages, it will divert attention and convince our wonderful Captain the midshipman is a spy.”
Laughing, the TechRate nodded. “Wunderbar!” He frowned. “Is there not a large reward for their capture? We could claim it once the ship is captured.”
“We’ll all share it once the capture is complete. It is too risky to attempt anything before then. Those Lacertian cadets are not here for training only. They protect this pair. Come, we must return to our stations before we are missed.” Striding purposefully toward his office in AI Maintenance, the Lieutenant thought of his future, assured by the promised payment of a considerable sum for his part in this business, plus the promise of promotion to Commander in the fleet the Consortium was building. Yes, things looked good for those who accepted what the Consortium offered. All that remained was to send the signal confirming readiness at the appointed time, and when the Almirante appeared, to activate the disabling devices.
THE COMSRATE STARED AT THE SIGNAL DISPLAY. “That’s strange. A hypercoms signal was just sent, but not from our transmitters. It originated from this ship, though.”
“Trace the point of origin, and put a trace on the destination. Track the hyperlinks it passes through.” The Communications Officer reached for his link. “Captain, we have an anomalous transmission originating from somewhere within this ship. I’m attempting to trace the source.”
“Do so.” Captain Haakon considered his latest briefing. “The security team think we have agents aboard from the Consortium. Do not discuss this signal with anyone. I wish to identify the agents.”
Acknowledging the order, the Coms Officer cut his link. Nodding to the ComsRate, he said, “You heard. No discussion with anyone. Have you traced the source?”
“Only that it came from somewhere aft of Frame 150 and forward of the Weapons Control, sir. The message was too short.”
“Verdammt. Okay. How about destination?”
“Hyperlink traffic makes it difficult, sir, but it seems to have gone to a deep space receiver beyond Seraphis.” The man looked concerned. “The receiver is in Consortium controlled space, sir.”
“Keep monitoring for more such signals. I want that transmitter traced.” Studying a schematic of the ship section of the area identified by the ComsRate, he swore under his breath. This part of the ship housed the wardroom, the Gunroom, the Flight Command Centre — it was crammed with key systems and services. Without a definitive location it would take days to search. He advised the Captain.
“OUR PEOPLE HAVE EVERYTHING IN PLACE ON THE KURFÜRST. She’s ready to be taken.” The Captain of the Consortium cruiser leaned back as he faced the hologram of his fleet commander.
“Proceed with the operation, but be cautious. Haakon is a cunning commander. He won’t surrender his ship without a fight.”
“More fool him. I know Haakon. We were in the same class as midshipmen. As long as his ship is unable to fight or manoeuvre, it will not be difficult to force a surrender.”
“You’ll have to be the judge of that. She isn’t up to strength on her Marine compliment, and she has around fifty cadets and midshipmen from the College on board for training.” The Consortium admiral paused. “Including the two the Board want. Johnstone Research is offering a very large reward if they are taken alive, but don’t take any chances doing that. The Board will be satisfied if they are killed.”
“Very well, sir.” The Captain watched the hologram vanish, and stared at the bulkhead for several minutes. He activated his link. “Number One, the operation is on. Assemble all HODs at twenty hundred hours for briefing.”
“ANOTHER SIGNAL, SIR.” THE COMSRATE FROWNED. “Got him. The transmitter is located in the Gunroom, sir.”
“In the Gunroom? So it’s one of the midshipmen. Verdammt traitor. Well, we have him now.” He contacted Captain Haakon. “Kaptein, we have the location of the transmitter. It is in the Gunroom. I’m going there now to recover it and find out who is using it.”
“Wait. I will send a security detail to meet you. I want to know whose cabin and how they are using this transmitter.”
The search was thorough, but the searchers almost missed the simple box-like device in the duct. “We have it, sir. Portable hyperlink transmitter, set to send only on a frequency the Consortium use. It was in the air duct in the cabin of a Midshipman Heron.”
Captain Haakon weighed the implications carefully. “Very well. Check the device for DNA traces and examine the access logs from that and all interfaces Heron has used. I want to know if he has accessed that transmitter through any system. Get Fleet Security on a private communications channel. Put it through to my office.” The Captain left the Control Centre and arrived in his office just as his service android accepted the connection.
“Captain, your call to Fleet Security is on link. Shall I open the projection?”
“Thank you, SSU-01. At my desk.” Seating himself, he addressed the hologram. “Lieutenant Van Damm?”
“Yes, Captain Haakon. What can we do for you, sir?”
“I need some information on two midshipmen in the College group I have aboard, Heron and O’Connor. Someone may be trying to implicate them in something close to espionage, and I need answers to some questions I have about them.”
“I have to refer you to a more senior officer,” said the security officer. “One moment please.” Within seconds, an older man not in uniform appeared in the holographic display.
“Captain Haakon, I understand you need information on Midshipmen Heron and O’Connor. I will attempt to answer any questions you have. Please go ahead.”
Aware the person he was addressing was very senior indeed, Captain Haakon gave a summary of what was happening and why he needed to know more about Harry and Ferghal.
“Very well, for your information only, please. They have abilities we don’t fully understand but which are unique, a result of the gene splice, perhaps, or some other influence.” The explanation continued, covering as much as the security service was prepared to release. “Does that answer your question, Captain?”
“I think it will have to do, sir. Thank you.”
The senior officer smiled briefly. “Good. Just be aware that a lot of people are after them, and the Consortium has placed a reward on their capture so steep that it would balance the budgets of several countries. Good day, Captain.”
The Captain leaned back in his chair. This conversation had answered one important question. He activated his link. “Send for Lieutenant Haäkinen and Midshipmen Heron and O’Connor.”
CAPTAIN HAAKON STUDIED THE PAIR OF MIDSHIPMEN who stood at attention before him. “At ease, gentlemen. Mr Heron, do you recognise this unit?”
Harry glanced at the small oblong device on the Captain’s desk. “No, sir.”
“It was found in the air duct in your cabin, and it is — or was — linked to the interface to the AI there.” He noted Harry’s sincere look of perplexity. “It also has traces of your DNA on it.”
“I cannot account for that, sir. It is not mine, and as far as I am aware, it has never been in my possession.”
The Captain was already aware that the trace DNA his surgeon-commander had found on the device
was probably due to airborne DNA from the occupant of the cabin. More intriguing was the absolute absence of any other DNA on the unit. He decided to take a different approach to get to the truth. “According to the access log, you do not use a manual interface unless you are under supervision. Why is that?”
“We have AI implants, sir.” Harry glanced at Ferghal. “They were given to us on the Vanguard so we could access information. We needed it to catch up on knowledge we did not have when we arrived in this century.”
Again, the Captain knew this from his contact with the Security Office. “But it does not function in the manner mine does, I am informed.”
“Correct, sir. Something happened to it while we were captives in the Johnstone Laboratory on Pangaea. Now we have to use a screening device to shut out the AI.”
“And they use a special code when they do access the AI through their links, sir,” Lieutenant Haäkinen interjected. “It is unique and random, generated by the screening device they carry. The AI recognises them through it. Anything that does not carry that code is not from Heron or O’Connor, even if it appears to be from their interfaces.”
“So I understand.” Hesitating, the Captain studied the pair. “This is very difficult. Mr Heron, someone is trying to make it appear you are a spy or a saboteur, so I have no option but to make them think I believe that.” He held up a hand to silence the protest he could see forming. “Trust me when I tell you we will ferret out the truth more efficiently with this ruse. I have no alternative but to order that you will, for the remainder of this cruise, not access the AI at any time unless it is under supervision. That goes for you too, Mr O’Connor. Lieutenant Hirsch and his specialist team are checking the system for any indication of sabotage. If they find nothing, I may reconsider.”
“IT’S BLOODY RIDICULOUS!” KEIRON VOICED THE OPINION of the rest of the class. “I’ll bet it’s one of Barclay’s stupid damn pranks.”
Harry Heron: No Quarter Page 10
