by Chris Burton
He knew Jake would follow her, and Jake’s potential intervention presented Carla with her best chance to break free from whatever power Winterburn had over her. Steve knew Jake wouldn’t stop until Carla was free.
He knew he must be there, because ultimately Carla needed him and not Jake. He would go with Jake and bring Carla home. It was as simple as that. He didn’t consider the consequences of his plan or what impact it could have on his graduation. At this moment, he cared only for two things: Carla and winning the Top Gun tournament. Jake pushed him all week for an expression of emotion. He knew if he let on how he really felt that Jake would try to dissuade him from coming. It was best if he pretended he didn’t care, even if he still yearned for her.
The twelve Rapiers stood side by side on the wide take-off strip on the far side of the space port, some two kilometers from their usual take off pads. It was important today that no-one had an advantage over any one of the finalists. They would all start together, at exactly the same time. The agenda for the final was simple. One event with a projected duration of over seven hours, a race over twelve laps covering the landscapes of Mars, the asteroid belt and some of the toughest and most dangerous terrain on Earth. The course was a one-off, designed for this race only. The Top Gun supreme and his team created a unique course for the final each year, and this year was no exception. It was fast, dangerous and testing to the extreme.
The finalists awaited their signal. It finally came, and all twelve lifted off simultaneously. They achieved minimum cruising height and immediately changed course heading for North America. Their first challenge was to clear the salt plains of Oklahoma. They were required to keep low to avoid radar detection and to fend off any bogey assault, individually and as part of a team. Steve was ready, and assumed a ground-hugging altitude of less than twenty meters and commenced his first run in earnest. Jake slotted in behind Steve; he began to set out his stall for a chasing strategy. Right, Steve was too fast. Jake pushed on in the knowledge that there would be other opportunities.
The jump ships left the desert and accelerated briskly into the stratosphere. The twelve Rapiers cleared Earth’s defense systems immediately and headed towards the main space ways, lead expertly by Steve, with Jake hanging back, followed closely by six of the remaining competitors. A gap opened between the lead ships and the back markers, as they each carefully maneuvered across the crowded space lanes.
* * * *
The Wessex Bulk Material Freighter had just cleared the Earth’s shield systems. The vast spaceship was at the start of a two year journey to the Southern Delta Cluster, a region of space rich in mineral ore and precious metals. The pilot was in a cautious mood. He knew how dangerous the space lanes could be, and in a ship of over one kilometers in length, he didn’t take chances and he didn’t like surprises. Unfortunately, he was about to have one.
Steve didn’t see the freighter until it was too late. He ploughed into the huge vessel’s aft thrusters just as she ignited them for a short power boost to bring her into the main shipping lane. The impact caused a cascade of sparks, but no damage to the freighter. The Rapier was pulled first towards the freighter, and then thrust outward into the space lane directly into the path of a variety of earthbound vessels. Steve took evasive action only to be confronted by the huge freighter once again. This time the freighter pilot fired up his ship’s powerful shields, which flicked the jump ship away like a mosquito being swatted away from a person’s face. Steve tried to pull the Rapier out of a spin only to find himself facing the wrong way once again, on the shipping lane towards Earth. He finally regained control of his ship and pulled the ship across the lanes in pursuit of the other Top Gun competitors. He had been first, he was now definitely last.
Steve was not going to let a moment of stupidity spoil his day. He was behind, but there was a long way to go. He must fend off the obligatory questions from the Top Gun supremo, then Jake, and finally the captain of the freighter, all of which was agitating and acutely embarrassing. Jake was enjoying his moment and Steve acknowledged that Jake was in a good position but this was a long way from over. First he must catch the back markers. He was about twenty seconds behind the ship closest to him, with the other three back markers between twenty-five and thirty-five seconds in front. There was then a thirty-second gap, for positions seven to three.
Jake and Bellamy were in positions one and two, with Bellamy twenty seconds ahead of the leading pack and Jake some forty seconds ahead of Bellamy. In all Steve was about two and half minutes behind Jake. He would make up half that distance in the next two laps. He would have to make up the remaining distance quickly to allow himself a real go at Jake in the last half of the final lap. The odds were stacked against him, but as Steve liked to tell everybody, he was no ordinary pilot.
Two and half laps later, Steve was in second place and chasing down a lead of just over a minute. Jake felt anxious. How had Steve managed to cut the difference between them in half?
Jake had just entered the Earth desert section for the penultimate time, and the artillery fire bugged him. It kept him on his toes, but the bastards changed their positions each lap. He had no way of preparing for each new onslaught. He took damage to his aft thrusters, from artillery fire, SAM missiles, and small impact asteroids buffeting his Rapier as he passed first over and then under the asteroid belt. Jake also suffered from fatigue. He had slept badly in the past week, and it now was taking its toll.
Steve was catching Jake. They cleared Mars and charged back towards Earth at high velocity. The gap was just three hundred meters and Steve could see his target. He needed to close to within less than fifty meters to take advantage of the desert terrain, where Steve knew he had Jake beat.
Jake really pushed. Steve needed to find some extra thrust from somewhere. He looked around for inspiration, but found nothing. His intermix was maxed out. Jake held Steve off. They were nearing Earth and quick clearance was crucial. Fortunately the shields proved no obstacle, and the two leading Rapiers headed towards the Oklahoma desert at mach 2.5. They both left their deceleration to the absolute last minute.
Jake straightened out fifty meters above the rocky surface. Steve followed just seventy-five meters behind. He is close enough to smell me, thought Steve. He must catch Jake and pass him. Both ships took artillery fire, but this was no longer about avoidance; they both took direct hits, causing damage to their fuselage.
They could see the finish: the rocky hills ten kilometers ahead. They both pushed to their maximum. Steve was catching up, sixty meters, fifty-nine meters, but still Jake held off. Then, as if pre-ordained, Jake took a direct hit to his main engine manifold. Power loss was instantaneous, and Steve swept past him.
Jake knew he had lost, but his battle was not over yet. He fought to keep control of the Rapier as he was peppered by still more artillery fire from below. Bellamy came in sight, behind him. Jake took a deep breath and opened the throttle to maximum, this was do or die. If he lost second place to Bellamy, he would be devastated.
He need not have worried, Bellamy was in trouble himself and Jake’s sudden burst of power was enough to bring him close to the finish. He stuttered across the line with Bellamy at a standstill. Bellamy did finish, but there was no disputing the winner. Steve had won the South Downs Alpha Academy Top Gun tournament and Jake must settle for second best.
Chapter Forty-Six
To Seek Out Carla
Steve was in an ebullient mood. He somehow, against all the odds, came from last place to win the Top Gun final, albeit by the slimmest of margins. He didn’t view his win as ‘lucky’; piloting a jump ship was about more than flying. It was about tactics. It was about exceeding your limitations and about avoiding enemy fire. Jake was caught out by enemy fire, pure and simple. He fell and Steve came through to win legitimately.
Jake’s view was somewhat different. He wanted Steve to get back into second place, but behind him. He didn’t want to finish second, after having come so far. He earned the victory. H
e had lead for the best part of five laps, and was unlucky to have been caught in the last few kilometers. Jake allowed Steve to take the glory. He knew finishing in second still qualified him with Steve as the two representatives from the Academy who would compete in the main Alpha Top Gun competition. He could put this matter to bed and concentrated on more pressing issues.
The Top Gun reception commenced as soon as the finalists touched down, and most of the twelve felt a little jaded. Jake made his apologies and crept away before 9 p.m. This was Steve’s party and Jake needed to rest. He would need to muster all of his strength over the following days if he were to make fast progress to the Tri-Star system.
He spoke to his tutor, via comm link during the reception. His explanation was brief but truthful. He needed to take leave of absence to seek Carla and bring her home. She was in big trouble and he needed to be with her. The tutor was reticent at first, but then realized Jake would go with or without his permission. He reluctantly granted leave for a maximum of one month. Jake knew that his career was on a knife’s edge. If he didn’t return within the month, he needed a damn good excuse to persuade the Academy to keep him in the course. That was not important right now.
* * * *
True to his word, Carla’s father delivered his yacht to Jake. His biological scan reading was held on the vessel’s hard drive. Recognition and approval granted him access to the yacht. Carla’s father had once again been busy. He installed various software upgrades, a new exhaust manifold and a geoscope.
The geoscope was the most fascinating piece of equipment. On the one hand, it helped to pull a ship into a standard orbit; on the other, it was a sophisticated stabilizer which allowed the vessel to be hit, knocked off course and still maintain equilibrium.
He also equipped the yacht with a vast arsenal, including high yield cluster bombs and miniature teutonic torpedoes, which although only a tenth the size of the full-sized variant, packed a charge equivalent to over a third of that of the standard size. The storage units were fully equipped with provisions, and the ship was well-stocked with components and drive system consumables. The ship was ready for anything.
The meticulous attention to detail reminded Jake of Carla. So often in the past, he or Steve ventured into something ill prepared and Carla stepped in to save the day. This was typical of Carla. What forced her to do something so out of character?
Winterburn had a lot to answer for. Jake secured the space yacht and headed to his apartment for some rest. He was ready to go, but needed sleep. It was a long day.
* * * *
Jake awoke at 8 a.m., took a shower, and ate a light breakfast of cereal and orange juice. He dressed and spent a few minutes transferring his server and comm link connections to his portable comm link. He then headed for the space yacht. He entered and set about the pre-flight checks so critical to any journey, but none more so than this one. Jake was about to make a log entry in the ships records, when an instantly recognizable voice came from behind him.
“You didn’t expect me to miss the party, did you?”
Steve Costello sat bold as brass at the navigation console. He wore blue standard Alpha pilot fatigues and appeared in a state of readiness for a mission.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you. I couldn’t let on that I was just as worried about Carla as you were. The Top Gun was at stake. I needed us to hang on until that was over.”
“What if I decided to leave earlier?”
“I would have stopped you.”
“Steve, I have Academy clearance for one month’s leave of absence. Have you spoken to our tutor?”
“I have just left him a long message. The bottom line is the Carla thing is unavoidable and I will return.”
“They won’t be happy with the way you have done this. If we don’t come back with a good result, you are going to be in big trouble.”
“I know, but what choice do I have. Anyway why is my way so different to yours?”
Jake ignored Steve. He knew he had no choice. He didn’t want Steve to come along, but it was clear, save from physically evicting him, that Steve was coming.
“So, we go together then,” said Jake.
“Yes, together. Though God only knows what we are letting ourselves in for.”
* * * *
Three days later, the space yacht cleared the Kuiper Belt and headed out beyond the Oort Cloud. The ship was about to cross the boundaries of the solar system into deep space. Traditionally, this was seen as the point where a rookie became a full-fledged pilot, in much the same way as crossing the equator for the first time by a sailor was seen.
Neither Jake nor Steve had ever ventured beyond the solar systems limits and today, albeit without the pomp and ceremony of a larger ship with experienced space farers to make the most of the moment, they were determined to mark the ‘special’ moment. Steve took the stellar drive offline and Jake got ready to plot the official mark by making a log entry as the ship’s master.
The journey to date was insignificant. Both men began to experience real space travel, long-distance travel where nothing happened for days on end, and where the view remained the same endlessly with only the most observant noting the variation in the star constellations. They talked, but Jake managed to keep the subject of his ‘new’ relationship with Carla off the agenda.
* * * *
The Oort Cloud and the Kuiper Belt gave variation to their journey. Jake and Steve took the opportunity to assume manual control through the cloud. This was a difficult navigational challenge, with the fabric of the cloud ever-changing, with pockets of plasma and space debris scattered throughout its sprawling mass.
Then there was nothing again. Nothing visible to mark their own personal landmark. This was a distraction. An important one, because even after two hundred fifty years of space travel, a very few experienced life beyond the Solar system. It was an ironic privilege, given their current circumstances. They celebrated the passing of a landmark, which paled into insignificance compared with the challenge ahead. The landmark passed, and they opened a bottle of champagne from a supply Carla’s father kept onboard to help capture the moment. They enjoyed a brief moment of complete insignificance. They were surrounded by trillions of kilometers of open space in a vessel no bigger than a small house. This was real space travel.
When the moment had passed and the champagne was consumed, they booted up the stellar drive, set course and engaged the NAVCOM. The two lightly-intoxicated space journeymen then both fell asleep in their chairs.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The Tri-Star Battle
The Nexus ship was ready. The convoy closed to within ten thousand kilometers of the nearest of the two wormholes and The Odysseus project leader, Dr. James Cameron, ran through a final check list to ensure the first section of the three part ‘exercise’ was one hundred percent ready. He sat at his desk in the makeshift operations center aboard the Botanic.
This was what all the planning was about. For six months, the team scrutinized and again scrutinized millions of pages of data, compiled by Nexus and associate laboratory resources. This was the result. They were in a war zone, light years from home, facing two wormholes and the possibility of the creation of one of the most complex structures in the universe. The creation of this structure was, in astronomic terms, as big as the stellar drive theory. The potential for the structure was enormous, not only as a transport source to potentially another universe, but also because of the immense power it would bring. If man could harness the power, the possibilities were endless. His team only just began to realize the possibilities of the discovery of a blue wormhole.
Yet opposition to the task at hand was rife. He could not rationalize the potential threat arising from the blue wormhole. He viewed Alpha’s presence here as a hindrance, and he just wanted to get on with things.
His own involvement in the project was a relatively new thing. He was aware of the research and the plans to open the w
ormholes. He hadn’t realized how far the project had come and how vast it became. He could not begin to fathom how the funding for such a project was put together. He tried to find out as Project Leader; he felt he had the right to know. This time, he had pushed too far and had come up against a metaphorical brick wall. He came close to giving up and pulling out of his new venture, but turned around in the last minute by the persuasive arguments of his peers. He accepted he didn’t need to know how the project was financed; he told himself it was better this way. He was a scientist and about to do his work. This was the moment of truth.
“Dr. Cameron, we are nearing proximity point A. Shall I charge up the vector components?”
“Yes, please do.”
He addressed the Alpha Commander, “What is the status of the Sentinel and the Sect vessels? Do we have a clear path to the wormhole?”
“Yes, Dr. Cameron. The presence of the Alpha Fleet is preventing the Sect and the Sentinels from engaging us. The Sect has taken a step back.”
* * * *
The High Priestess resigned herself to the inevitable. The number of Alpha vessels expanded rapidly, and to engage in a full-scale battle with Alpha could be counterproductive. Her quest was to prevent the Kryl from entering the galaxy. She would do everything in her power to prevent it and this is what she needed to concentrate on.
The opening of the first wormhole was not, in any case, the issue. She knew the first wormhole would be opened. Humans needed to fuel their insatiable desire for growth and she could do little to stop this. She could not allow the second one to open. She prepared to pay the ultimate price to stop this from happening.
* * * *
Jonathan Hoskins watched the events unfold. The Alpha/Nexus vessels slowly closed toward the wormholes. They were surrounded by Shenke’s mini-fleet, of which the Halo 7 was a key component. The Sect Fleet stopped attacking and stood at a standstill, less than a kilometer behind the Nexus vessels, but curiously with a clear path through. The Sentinel Patrol vessels also stopped and monitored the situation. Finally there were the onlookers: these included the AUSWAS ship and incredibly large numbers of individual craft of all manner and shape. These were the hangers-on. There were hundreds of them, and more arrived by the hour. They were mostly of Earth origin. He had never seen such a large number of non-military crafts so far out in deep space. This was absolutely fascinating.
