Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  Captain John Thompson occupies one of these work stations, while Andrew and Joe each have their own. John switches his attention from the alien console to a conventional one that has been recently added. Andrew and Joe quite excitedly review their own consoles and the bank of laptop computers that rest nearby. Andrew’s oceanic blue eyes sparkle at the excitement of the day’s upcoming tests. He turns and smiles, and then gives George a wave in acknowledgement.

  It is obvious to George that everyone is a little relieved upon his arrival. His eyes follow the many cables that snake their way to the various bridge terminals from their Japanese-built supercomputer. As his eyes rove the room, he can see Peter occupying the last of the four main terminals in front of Cindy’s command chair. Before them all is a large view screen, which also doubles as a window. The dry dusty desert, synonymous with the Australian Outback, stares bleakly back.

  The amazing computer system has somehow earned the innocuous nickname of, GUS. The supercomputer’s full name, once translated, is Gamin Umbilical System. Even when running through a special buffer circuit, the sheer incompatibility of the alien technology makes a direct connection to a Gamin terminal a risky endeavor. Joe found this out the hard way, when his laptop burned out even with a buffer circuit in place. GUS however, is able to handle the data exchange, though it too, still requires very specialized buffer circuits in order to avoid an overload. With so much hinging on these buffer circuits working, Cindy is pleased that their inventor, George, is with them.

  “Okay,” says Cindy, “Here we go.” Pressing one of many buttons on her chair’s built-in console, she activates the internal communications system. “All stations report.”

  One by one, department heads report their readiness.

  After the last department has checked, in Cindy says, “Captain John, will you do the honors?”

  John examines his console, its many alien words and symbols supplemented with sticky notes. He checks the temporary terminal which rests next to him. This rocket booster control panel is also connected to GUS.

  The Captain runs through his own checklist once more before he replies, “Yes, ma’am.” After another slight pause, he touches a symbol on the console before him. “Closing the ramp.” A symbol on his terminal lights up.

  Everyone holds their breath. The ship has a lot more people on board than its official launch crew. Many of these ‘extras’ watch as the massive ramp lifts up. It grinds noisily into place, thanks to the sand that accompanies it. With a clang that reverberates throughout the hold, the ramp stops. A few additional noises can be heard from the inner workings as it seals in place. Observers from outside watch in awe as armor plates slide over the ramp area, further sealing the craft. Within one minute of John touching the control, the outer hull over the ramp appears to be one impervious sheet of interlocking armor.

  John lifts his hands away from the alien terminal in surprise. “George, what’s this? I just touched one symbol, but come here quickly and take a look at my console!”

  George steps closer as Joe leans over to look as well. “Well, now that’s interesting!” George states in mild surprise.

  “George!” Cindy says with a little too much anxiousness. “Now is not the time to be coy. What is interesting?” She too, is leaning forward in her command chair, a little apprehensively.

  Before he can reply, the sound of hissing fills the bridge, actually, it can be heard throughout the entire ship. George responds calmly. “The ship has detected a ‘seal’ and has automatically enabled life support systems.” He smiles at the simplicity of the system.

  “Oh my,” says Cindy in shock as she gets a whiff. “It’s poison! Open the ramp.”

  George holds up his arm, which being as he is in the suit, looks pretty menacing. “Hold up on that,” he states calmly. “What did you think the Gamin breathed? This is their ‘air’, we’re fine.”

  John, with a finger poised over a symbol on his console, looks back at Cindy. “Your orders?”

  She shakes her head and stabs at the communications control on her chair in annoyance. “All hands, do not be alarmed. The air you’re breathing is not harmful.” She glances at George questioningly. As he shakes his head from side to side she continues. “We will provide further details shortly.” Glaring at George she says “You knew this would happen?”

  “Of course,” he replies with complete innocence. “This is what they breathe.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds. “Oh, you better be ready for the heavier gravity too.”

  John glances at the many consoles around the bridge area. It seems as if they are all displaying similar lights and symbols. He watches in fascination as new symbols light up.

  “Something is happening, and I think it’s ship wide.” John reports with nervous apprehension.

  A few of these symbols go blank after a moment, including the first one engaged. But with everything else that is happening, this goes unnoticed, for now.

  Cindy again jabs a finger to the communications symbol. “All hands, prepare for internal gravity.” Lifting her finger up, she again glares at George and demands, “How heavy?”

  George recalls his visits to the Regent’s flagship, and replies. “Oh, about fifteen percent over Earth’s” It suddenly dawns on him that in all the talks they have had, these minor details never came up.

  Reopening communications, Cindy continues. “Expect the gravity to be about fifteen percent over what we’re used to people.” A slight cough escapes her as the nauseating air thickens.

  Even as her message echoes throughout the ship, objects, leaning against walls, slip and fall to the ground as extra force is suddenly exerted upon them. The wings on all three shuttles dip and flex a little. Kitchen hands curse and swear as pots and pans fall from where they were carefully stacked.

  “George, George, George. We are going to have to talk about this later on. In the meantime, are there any more surprises?” Cindy questions disapprovingly.

  “I figured that all those science types would have let you know.” George replies as he shrugs his shoulders naively.

  “Well,” Cindy instructs, “We will need to fix the ‘air’, and the gravity before we launch!”

  John, Joe, and Andrew all nod in agreement. They are all feeling quite squeamish as the foul air circulates.

  George frowns at this. “The air filters may be something we can adjust, but the gravity, I wouldn’t dare touch it.”

  John turns to George, his face a little green, “Why not?” He demands.

  George opens his mouth in disbelief. “No one told you how the ‘RMC’ works?”

  Even Joe and Andrew turn to look at George now. “RMC? What the heck is that?” John asks.

  George goes to rub his forehead in frustration, but instead only succeeds in banging his helmet with the suit’s arm. He begins to explain, “It stands for Relativistic Mass Compensator. It’s a space flight system.” Sweat starts to drip down his face; all of a sudden he feels extremely hot.

  He steps clumsily over to John’s terminal and points. “It’s that symbol.” George’s eyes open wide as an unease enters his voice. “Umm. Why is it lit?”

  “Hey.” Says John in indignation. “I just touched one symbol, all this other ‘stuff’, well, it just happened.”

  “Reactor control, calling command.” The message comes over the bridge speakers, carrying with it an ominous tone.

  Cindy, feeling bewildered, replies. “Reactor control, we have a lot going on up here, is this important?”

  “Well, that depends? We’re monitoring the reactors, and all twenty of them are at one hundred percent. You guys are pulling a ton of juice up there with your tests.”

  “One hundred percent...” Cindy is barely aware that she has touched her panel as she absorbs the information.

  ‘Yes ma’am, and GUS wants more, but the safeties won’t let the computer take more without authorization.” Replies the man’s voice.

  Cindy looks to her bridge crew and asks, “Well
, any theories?”

  Everyone shakes their heads, even George.

  “Oh no, no!” George tilts his head to one side as he studies John’s terminal. “Those symbols that are lit, they’re not the ramp controls.” He feels sick to his stomach. “That’s auto-navigation.” Sweat rolls freely down his back and arm pits now, pooling at his encased feet.

  John stares at his terminal, and states adamantly. “But I touched that symbol!” He points indignantly at the icon, and then frowns. He does not understand why it is no longer lit.

  Cindy glances at John’s terminal, then back to George. “But we’re on the ground...”

  The bridge speakers startle everyone. “Terran, this is ground control, come in.” All eyes turn to Cindy.

  “Cindy here, we’re pretty busy at the moment. What do you want?”

  “Well, you do know that the external gravity plating is ‘polarizing’, or whatever? Don’t you?” Snaps the voice from ground control.

  An odd sound carries its way over the speakers, a hum, that gets louder with every passing second.

  “George.” Cindy’s voice is quite authoritative. “Shut everything down!”

  “With pleasure,” George replies. He walks unsteadily to a terminal, each step more difficult than the last. Making a connection with the suit, he swings his visor down, and starts to listen as the translator in his ear does its job. “Uh, who programmed GUS?” He asks, his voice is sluggish and filled with disbelief.

  Cindy is bewildered by the question, and says. “George, you’re making no sense, what has that got to do with anything?”

  George almost whispers the reply. “I think we’ve been sabotaged!” In the stony silence that follows he continues. “GUS has ordered the Terran to launch. It was a simple command really, we just never thought to look for it.” He opens his visor as the heat builds up to oppressive levels in his suit. Sweat flows freely down his chest and back. Feeling faint, he leans against the wall. The suit seems no longer able to keep him cool.

  “Sabotage!” Cindy stands up as she practically shouts the words. “Cut the power!” She slams the intercom selector for the reactor control room. “Shut down the reactors, NOW!” The bridge gets very quiet and tense, as everyone waits for a response.

  “Reactor control, come in.” Cindy shouts.

  Andrew is the first to notice what is happening outside. The view from the bridge encompasses the entire forequarters of the ship. From here, many of the support struts that hold the ship in place can be seen retracting. Andrew points wordlessly to his discovery while he tries to find his voice.

  John is stabbing at his touch screen in the hopes of somehow stopping the launch. None of his controls seem to be responding. He turns to Cindy, then George, in desperation.

  Joe reaches for his laptop, to find it smoldering. The wisps of smoke coming from the casing testify to its demise. He also turns to George, who is standing there, motionless.

  “Command, this is reactor control. We can’t shut down the reactors, and any disruption to the power grid is not recommended at this time. It’s energized.”

  Cindy stares at the bridge speakers as she absorbs this news. “Understood, command out.”

  Andrew finally catches everyone’s attention, just as George slowly turns and says lethargically. “I can shut down the launch and...” his voice trails off. He is incredibly tired all of a sudden. With internal gravity enabled, no one has noticed that the Terran is now leaning a little to one side.

  John is the first to look up, and when he does, he just stares, wide eyed at the tilted view outside. “Oh my! We’re sitting on over fifty million pounds of rocket fuel, and don’t ask me to convert that!” He turns to Cindy and in despair states. “Let’s just say, that if we hit the ground, Australia will have a crater, the size of which no one has ever seen before.”

  Cindy tilts her head as the scene before her pitches a little more. “Put the landing gear down then! George?” She turns to see the one man who could help them, fall out of the Gamin bodysuit, and onto the floor, unconscious. He is trembling, and drenched in sweat from head to toe. The entire bridge crew is stunned as events beyond their control overtake them.

  Lisa has been watching the spaceship from a safe distance with one hand pressed hard to her mouth in fear. The distant ship is leaning heavily against a few of the support struts, bending and buckling them. The noise of the ship’s armor grinding against the flexing struts is unnerving, and almost overpowers the hum that emanates from beneath it. The rocket boosters, with their enormous payloads of fuel, are so close to the ground now, they seem to merge. She stifles a fearful cry. Johnny looks up at his mother, then at the chaos developing around him. Something has gone wrong, terribly wrong.

  “C’mon dad, you can save ‘em. Please!” Johnny pleads.

  Johnny’s plea does not go unnoticed. Lisa looks down, and is no longer able to hold back her tears. She grabs his hand tightly as they watch the scene with morbid curiosity, transfixed on the impending disaster before them. Some of those observing, turn and run, as if adding a few steps is going to make any difference to their survival.

  Joe gets to George and shakes him. “George, George.” He is unmoving, covered in sweat, and out cold. “Get a doctor, and some water here, quickly!” Joe adds.

  Cindy carefully weighs the options available to her. After a moment of consideration, she turns to John and orders. “Launch the ship. Full power to the gravity lift system, and pre-ignite the boosters.”

  “No! Not yet,” croaks George from the floor, “Get me to my suit.” He adds weakly.

  Joe looks at those around him, seeking support. He is met by shrugs and nods. Helping George to his feet, and into the suit is no easy task, but with assistance from Andrew they manage it.

  George stares at everyone on the bridge with a renewed fierceness, even as a fresh wave of sweat droplets builds on his forehead. With labored breaths, he utters, “If the fuel in those booster rockets explodes, we all die. Even those watching, and that includes my family!”

  Looking at the stub at the end of the suit’s arm, he generates an unusual looking device, and slams it into a port on the console. Pointing to John with his other arm, his voice gaining strength, his instructions ring out. “Prepare to activate all the lower thrusters, but only use the energy stored in their capacitors.” His mind slowly clears as he reads the stream of data. “Oh my! We were badly deceived with the ship’s power requirements. Joe, I know you have a spare laptop. Hook it up and look at the power grid’s capacity. You will find that we’re running at approximately two percent capacity.”

  Cindy stands up in surprise. “Two percent! Will that even get us off the ground?”

  John shakes his head from side to side, while Andrew, confirming the information, quietly ponders. How could we not have noticed this?

  Joe is also stunned by the revelation as he mulls over the discovery. Two percent power. Twenty nuclear reactors, and all we have is two percent. He is astounded by the revelation.

  George glances back at Cindy. “We will not fail! But I will need everyone to do exactly what I say, when I say it.”

  Cindy meets his determined look and nods. “Do it George.”

  George, with his head finally clear, takes one more look at the scrolling marquee on his visor. “This is going to be a very rough ride people. Taking internal gravity offline, life support offline, navigational shields offline.” He gulps as he poises over the console, and says, “Setting reactors to one hundred twenty percent.”

  The hairs on the back of Cindy’s neck raise up as she presses a button on her own console. “Reactor control, we’re going to one hundred twenty percent on all reactors. Monitor radiation levels and be prepared to use the emergency cooling injectors.”

  John looks at his console, then the interface terminal, and relaxes his mind. It’s just like piloting a shuttle. With a renewed focus, he calls out confidently. “Thrusters ready, pre-ignition sequence for main boosters at your command.�
�� His hand moves to the special control terminal installed just for them, his fingers poised.

  Outside, Lisa is still standing transfixed when the Terran’s thrusters suddenly power up. The noise is as impressive as the display they make, and startles everyone watching.

  Johnny looks up, and starts to jump up and down with glee. “They’re gonna do it. Go dad go!”

  With dozens of thrusters firing, the ship halts its slow fall, and seems to right itself a little. A hopeful cheer comes from those that remain, as optimism replaces fear.

  Back onboard, things are far from being settled. George has no idea what knocked him out, or why he feels fine now. These mysteries are pushed out of his mind for the time being, as he focuses intently on the task at hand. “John, push those thrusters more, and power up the laterals as well.”

  John studies his Gamin console intently, it is starting to make a little more sense to him. Thruster settings, temperature, reserve power, and more. He dials up a number of thrusters, overcharging some, but not all, in his efforts to right the ship. He then begins the delicate balancing act of managing thrust and heat, to power reserves. The view outside starts to return to an even keel “If I am reading this right, we have about ten minutes of reserve power left in the thrusters.”

  The bridge speakers blare. “Command, reactor room here, whatever you’re doing, you had better do it fast, we just activated the emergency injectors, and temps are still climbing past critical.” With the voice carries the sounds of various alarms in the background, along with the harried voices of overstressed people. “It’s also getting pretty damn hot down here!”

  Cindy, feeling powerless, says with more than a little unease. “George, now would be a good time for you to pull a rabbit out of your hat.”

  George manages an unseen smile as he continues to study the display on his visor. “John, as soon as we level out, ignite every booster rocket.” He is racking his brains for ideas to gain even more power. It suddenly dawns on him. Of course! “Cindy, as soon as John ignites the boosters, shut down GUS.”