Harry Heron: No Quarter

by Patrick G Cox

  “Not enough, or they’d have acted already. Now shut up, and for God’s sake, man, get a grip.”

  “Mr Barclay, Mr Laschelles, we’re ready when you gentlemen are.” The Lieutenant Commander’s expression was unreadable. “MWO Västeros will brief you. You’re to work with his party for the exercise.”

  “Gentlemen, suit up, please.”

  Barclay glared at the warrant officer then realised the man had no intention of backing off. In fact, he looked quite capable of enforcing his request if necessary. “Yes, MW.”

  Miles joined them, his blanched face betraying his nervousness. “They must suspect us,” he whispered. “The MW is Special Branch.”

  Barclay started to swear, then thought better of it. “Shut up and get rigged,” he muttered under his breath.

  “MR HERON.” LIEUTENANT GROSSMANN INDICATED the vacant station next to hers. “You’ll be assisting me with the manoeuvring plot.” She waited as he took his place. “And this time we will have the AI do the calculations.”

  Recognising the gentle acknowledgement of his efforts during the recent crisis, he returned her smile. “I think it will be quicker than my efforts, ma’am. After all, it can perform all the calculations simultaneously and not, as I must, in sequence.”

  Laughing, she nodded. “True. But your method worked very well. I think the AI is concerned it has a rival. Now, let us begin. Enter these coordinates, please.”

  Harry set to work, aware as he did so of the flow of orders around him.

  “Ready, ma’am.”

  “Very good.” She accessed her link and reported, “Navigation ready, sir.”

  “Commence plot for La Grange manoeuvring.”

  Repeating the order, the Lieutenant nodded to Harry. “I’ll do those. You’ll find them interesting, I think.” She plotted the waypoints using a menu displayed on a screen beside her. “These are supposed to give us a course that is efficient, avoids known bodies and gives the Weapons team the best chance of holding a lock on the target as we weave and dodge him in an effort to do the same.”

  Harry watched the stream of results appearing on the screen before him. “I see, ma’am, but with the alternatives and the permutations all dependent on your choices, how will the targeting controllers know which you have used?”

  She finished her input and leaned back in her seat. “Good question, and the answer is simple.” Making a further entry, she ordered, “Helm, accept the course orders, then link to targeting.”

  “Accepted, Lieutenant. Targeting linked and tracking.”

  “See?” She said, touching her link. “Command, courses plotted and targeting linked to helm.”

  Fascinated, Harry watched as the ship began its first manoeuvres. In the time it took him to blink, she vanished in a quick transit from her start position and flashed into a new position some ten astronomical units away.

  “Target acquired. Firing!”

  On the helm display, the beams of plasma lanced from the ship and engulfed the target, a large asteroid.

  “Helm, next sequence. Commence.”

  Once again the ship vanished, reappearing on the other side of the asteroid and in a different aspect. The great beams of fire engulfed the asteroid again.

  “Shift position. Adopt Pattern Three.”

  “Pattern Three. Commencing.”

  Harry watched, aware the Navigation Officer had skipped several of her original planned courses and adopted a later sequence. Once more the target acquisition was rapid, and the asteroid took yet another pummelling. Without a pause, the Lieutenant repeated her command, this time choosing an earlier sequence.

  “Secure weapons. Navigation, plot course for Neptune. Prepare for the next series.”

  Acknowledging the order, the Lieutenant told Harry, “Go ahead, Mr Heron. Give us a course to Neptune, please.”

  THE FIRING EXERCISE PROVIDED AN OPPORTUNITY for all other departments to conduct trials of their own. Shadowing the Lieutenant Commander overseeing the power supply to the ship’s weapons batteries, Ferghal was interrupted by an order to simulate a hull breech affecting the control room.

  “Don survival suits! Schnell!” The Lieutenant Commander thrust himself into his suit then verified that Ferghal and the others were properly dressed. “O’Connor, with me. Rudi, transfer power to the secondary banks. We meet in the Emergency Control. Go!”

  Hurrying to keep up, Ferghal dodged aside as a team from Damage Control lumbered past, burdened with their equipment. He grinned as he recognised Barclay with a tight-lipped Warrant Officer hard on his heels, and wondered what they were exercising. Engrossed in his thoughts, he collided with the Lieutenant Commander.

  “Was ist?”

  “It was an accident, sir!” Midshipman Miles, scarlet in the face, was flustered. Two TechRates stood back to allow the Lieutenant Commander to peer into the cabinet. “No one warned me the fire fighting system was live. It went off when we simulated a fire, sir, as ordered, sir.”

  Lieutenant Commander Reuter struggled with his temper for several seconds. “Your name, Midshipman?” His voice almost produced ice, and the TechRates paled.

  “Miles, sir. Dreadnought Class.”

  “Miles.” For what seemed an eternity, the officer paused. “Return to your assigned station, report what has happened — no.” He reconsidered. “I shall report it. You will accompany me and take no further part in these exercises. You are now a casualty — und Sie beiden auch!”

  Miles followed, with a rueful glance at Ferghal. For a moment Ferghal almost felt sorry for the midshipman, but it was merely a passing thought, as he had to focus on the task of running the auxiliary system to power up the weapons.

  Watching him, the Lieutenant Commander snapped, “O’Connor, take two men and deal with that mess in 302ANd.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Glancing at the two men who’d accompanied Miles, he asked, “May I have these men, sir?”

  Lieutenant Commander Reuter nodded. “Richter, Kosch, you heard Herr O’Connor.” To Ferghal he said, “Get it sorted out and run a full diagnostic on it. Any problem, contact me.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Ferghal nodded to the men and led them back the way he’d come. He asked the AI, “What is the problem at 302ANd?”

  “There is a short circuit due to the extinguishing agent. You will need to remove the components, clean them, and replace the damaged elements.”

  Taking care to isolate the fire protection system, Ferghal opened the cabinet and almost whistled in surprise. “Damn, this extinguishing foam makes a mess.” He eased himself out of it. “Mr — er — Richter? We’ll need to dismantle the unit. Mr Kosch, clean the area so we can see the damage.”

  The TechRate nodded. “Sehr Gut, mein Herr. I will fetch the cleaner tools.”

  Ferghal turned to the second TechRate. “Have we access to a maintenance kit?”

  “Jawohl, mein Herr. It is here.” He indicated an adjoining cabinet. “It is this your colleague was looking for.”

  Extracting the kit, Ferghal frowned. How could Miles have mistaken the cabinets? Or had he simply not bothered to ask? Probably the latter. The indicators on them were clear enough. A thought occurred to him. “Why did Midshipman Miles need this kit? Was there some other task?”

  TechRate Richter shook his head. “He did not say, sir. Our orders were to carry out a simulated response to a fire in the Node at 303ABn1. He said we should take the Maintenance Kit from here with us.”

  “So who opened and set off the suppression system in this node then?” Studying the casing of the damaged unit, he added, “That foam certainly got into everything — just as well it is protected by isolators.”

  “Der — the Midshipman, mein Herr.”

  Engrossed in his task, Ferghal grunted. “Well, what’s done is done. Pass me the testing kit. We’ll need a replacement neural junction I think.”

  TechRate Kosch returned with the equipment for removing the extinguishing foam
, and at Ferghal’s order, cleared it from the cabinet.

  HARRY WATCHED THE PREPARATIONS WITH INTEREST. The flow of orders between the Command Centre, Navigation, Weapons Control and Engineering brought home to him just how essential each component of the ship’s operation was. With his isolation device from the AI deactivated, he had the added advantage of being able to see and hear the AI at work.

  “Shift position. Transit to Grid 4405 at plus 22 degrees. Target Asteroid 93-93-555-Jupiter-67.”

  Harry ran the calculation for the change of position, transferred the solution to the helm, and watched as the hemispherical 3D display revealed the asteroid looming close. Even as he registered this, the brilliant beams of the weapons flashed into focus.

  “Micro-transit. New position Grid 4406-Left, negative plane 30 degrees.”

  As soon as Harry entered the coordinates, the solution appeared in his eyes before it showed on the screen, and without hesitation, he ordered, “Transfer to helm,” through his internal link to the AI.

  The displays showed the asteroid hovering above and on the ship’s starboard side. Even as the weapons fired again, the Captain’s orders for the next shift in position arrived.

  “This time let me see them before you activate them, Mr Heron.” The Navigation Officer saw Harry’s surprise. “You didn’t with the last one.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Setting to work, he found the solution and waited for the display as well as the order to execute it, aware that the AI considered this delay strange.

  “THE EXERCISE WAS A COMPLETE SUCCESS.” Captain Haakon swept the assembled officers with his gaze. “The Damage Control teams performed very well despite there having been a small accident when someone set off the fire extinguishing system in the main weapons power distribution module.” He frowned. “It is fortunate that it could be repaired and that the auxiliary system cut in immediately. Commander Reuter, your comments please.”

  “Luckily I discovered it moments after it happened, sir. A midshipman apparently opened the cabinet unaware that it would set off the fire extinguishing system. Midshipman O’Connor was able to repair it immediately, sir. I have spoken to the Divisional Officer concerned.”

  The Captain nodded. He knew there was considerably more to it than his Engineering officer was prepared to say publicly. “Thank you, Jorgen. Navigation? The course transfer and transits were excellent.” He paused, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “There was one, however, when the ship entered transit before the solution appeared on my repeater. Is there a problem with the system?”

  The Navigation Officer smiled. “No, sir. I had Midshipman Heron on the plotting table. On one of the manoeuvres he allowed the ship to read his thoughts, and it acted on them immediately.”

  The frown deepened. “Have you talked to him since then? I know the ship sees him as a mobile node, but he must not let his thoughts become an alternative to proper command.”

  “I’ve explained it to him, sir, and he agrees. He wasn’t aware that the ship considered his thought process a direct order.”

  “Hmm. Very well. Is it in your appraisal for the College?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Right, then we can leave it there.” He turned to his Executive Officer. “Damage Control report, Dieter.”

  Chapter 19 – Bad Judgment

  Security was tighter than usual during Regatta Week, which led to some frustrations and delays for the visitors, but most accepted the necessity with a reasonable degree of equanimity. Harry and Ferghal were delighted to find that their visitors included Chief Justice Theo L’Estrange and his wife Niamh with their friend Danny.

  Ferghal greeted them with a smart salute and a smile at Danny’s eager expression. “Welcome to the College, sir, ma’am. I’m to show you to your suite.”

  “Thank you, Ferghal. Is the Commodore here yet?” Theo noted Danny’s eagerness. “You’d best show Danny round once you’ve deposited us before he strains his neck trying to see everything from here!”

  Ferghal laughed. “Aye, Harry’s with the Commodore. He’ll be in the suite on the flat above yours.”

  Ferghal and Danny walked a few paces ahead with Theo and Niamh following. He was curious to learn more details of Danny’s unwitting adventure. “What happened when those Consortium agents tried to kidnap you, Danny?”

  “One of them had me almost into their transport when Sci’sinada took him down. It was a bit messy after that — not as bad as the gundeck on Spartan after grape shot, but close!” He grinned. “She’athe wasn’t playing, and the guy that Sci’sinada took is going to be in the med-units for a long time.” He smiled as Sheoba fell into step beside them with a group of Lacertian guests. Danny added, “I wish I could move as quickly as your people can, Sheoba, and that vanishing trick is fantastic. I wish I could do that. I could dodge some of the boring classes then!”

  Ferghal laughed, but Sheoba remarked in her sibilant hiss, “Then, Little One, you would find our ways harder, since you can never be still as we are taught to be.”

  “Now there you have the flaw in your wish, Danny.” Theo gripped the boy’s shoulder in a friendly squeeze. “Is this our suite, Ferghal? Then we shall be fine. If you’ve no other duties, perhaps you can show Danny some of the College.”

  HARRY STOOD TO ATTENTION AND SALUTED AS THE TALL and distinguished figure of Commodore Heron approached. “Sir!” he exclaimed. “I am ordered to conduct you to your suite and ensure you have all you require.”

  Returning the salute, the Commodore smiled. “I am delighted to have your company, Harry. It’s lucky that my squadron is currently home for replenishment and maintenance, and I’m Earthbound for the enquiry.” As they walked together, he said, “And this gives me the opportunity to check on you myself. The judge was very pleased with your evidence and conduct at the enquiry, by the way. I didn’t have the chance to tell you, as you’d left by the time I’d finished giving my evidence.”

  “Aye, sir. They were afraid we’d miss too much classwork if we didn’t return as soon as possible.” Standing aside, Harry waited for his guardian to enter the suite. “I’m flattered that you have chosen to attend the Regatta and our Passing Out parade, sir.” Harry smiled. “It has been a challenging course — even without the other distractions.”

  The Commodore laughed. “I wouldn’t have missed it even if it meant giving up my command. I’ve been keeping a close watch on your progress, and your distractions have had us all worried. Still, your instructors seem to think you and Ferghal have done well.” Studying his ward for a moment, he paused. “And I hear the Yotties intend to change the record books this year. As a Yottie myself, I felt I had to be here for it.”

  “We hope so, sir.”

  “Good. I hear the Yotties are showing great promise for certain races this year. I will be eager to see if you can reverse our sad lack of performance in sailing, pulling and the Field Gun exercise.”

  LIEUTENANT COMMANDER VALLANCE GLARED at the cryptic message on his tablet. This was getting out of hand. Didn’t the damned fools know how tight the security here was? Did they have any idea how difficult this would be? Did they care? Deleting the message, he pocketed the device and stood. He was in way too deep to get out now. Even if he turned himself in to Fleet Security, the best he could hope for would be a plea bargain and a shorter sentence.

  Well, too late now. He’d taken the money, and he’d delivered what they asked. His team had been the best. Now three were dead, two on the run, and just himself left at the College — and now this message from the Consortium could blow his cover completely. Walking briskly, he made for the reception and signed himself out.

  “I’m going into town for some peace,” he told the desk attendant. “Getting too full of top brass around here.”

  “I take your meaning, sir.” The attendant was a retiree, a former TechRate who enjoyed his duties because they kept him in touch with his Service. He smiled. “Must be half the top command here, not to mentio
n the Chief Justice, the Fleet Board and several other senior politicians.”

  “Quite. The gleam of gold braid is straining my eyes.” Vallance smiled amiably. “See you later.” He stepped outside glad to be rid of the confines of the building and its rigid structure —both external and internal.

  Now to link up with the special team and get them in place. With the damned Lacertians everywhere, that is going to be a challenge — a big one. This whole damned thing has gone sour.

  He walked to where he kept a small recreational vehicle. This whole plan was supposed to have been simple and straightforward. Just recruit people with the right skills and talents. Make sure they were on board with the idea of bringing in a new world order — and God knew, in his opinion, it was needed — and in the meantime enjoy some rewards and benefits for their loyalty.

  Then it got more intense. First it was acting as the inside contact for agents sent to deal with specific problems for the Consortium. He’d had a few qualms over that, but then there’d been a request that he arrange an accident for someone, with the threat of exposure if he didn’t. Next, he’d found himself leading a special ops team — again reluctantly, but, as with everything else he did, meticulously planned, managed and executed for his controller in the Consortium.

  Deep in thought, he failed to notice he was being followed.

  The Lacertian noted his direction then moved swiftly. By the time Vallance reached his pride and joy, an expensive personal runabout, one of the Lacertians had planted a tracking unit on it.

  After standing outside in the near dark for longer than he would’ve liked, Vallance felt relief tempered with foreboding as he watched a transport pod approach the gate on schedule. Stopping a little short, a light flickered.

  Using his own device, he replied from his side of the gate. After the recognition signals were exchanged, he opened the gate and admitted the vehicle. It slipped past silently without stopping and vanished into the night inside the College grounds. Now he had to make sure he was where he was supposed to be next.