“Yep, that’s right. As a matter of fact, half of these sows are due to give birth on the same day. An easy way to remember the length of gestation in swine is the rule of threes: three months, three weeks and three days, for a total of 114 days. Now that isn’t always dead on. It can vary a day or two each way and the piglets will be fine. Most of the problems have bred out over the centuries and raising pigs is no longer the trouble it once was.”
Terry was quick to add, “Most litters have 10 piglets and it’s safe to allow a sow to have two litters a year. They can breed at six months. So, you see we can have a well-producing pig farm up and running in a short time. If these Trolls really enjoy hams they’ll love bacon and BBQ.”
They all turned when I entered and greeted me. Julie was standing amongst the herd in a pair of rubber muck boots. Her face was beaming and glowing while she chased a sow in the pen. This had to be a great relief after the corporate dealings of the last two months. She looked at me and with a hitch in her voice, she said, “I know, I know, don’t get too attached. I promise not to name any of them. We need to slaughter and butcher them in the end. Still, this is fun. Maybe I should have gone into farming, not geology.”
“Terry, Andy, if she gets in the way, shoo her out of the hold. Don’t let her breathtaking good looks sway you.”
“Skipper she’s helping and a pleasure to work with. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty like so many folks.” Terry said.
I noticed Julie was dirty and not just her hands. She must have slipped and fallen in the pen and then rolled in something. She didn’t seem to notice, and it wasn’t bothering her at all. “Julie make sure you shower before dinner. Okay? Maybe you should hose off down here.” I said.
“How are our porcine guests handling the flight? They are VIPs after all.” I asked the brothers.
Andy responded, “They seem to be doing fine. They like the feed we have, and the conditions are nice and clean for them. You know pigs are clean animals. They only wallow in mud when it's hot and they want to cool off. The climate controls in here have them thinking they’re on vacation.”
“Gentlemen and Lady, I’ll see you at dinner. I’ve some more work to do and then I’ll be taking a shower before we eat.” I waved as I left the hold.
Next on my ship’s tour was engineering. I'd convinced Thom Rustack, the engineer on Julie’s luxury transport ship the Orla, to stop in and see what we could do to make Lola more efficient. He spent three days going over the engineering section with a fine-tooth comb. Two days later he sent me a report with his recommendations. I went through it and realized Rustack was a genius. I forwarded the report to Chris who said he would implement the changes while we were in route to Chico 7.
Ducking to go through the hatch to the starboard engineering bay, I saw Chris and our new ship’s engineer Jim Thule, hard at work. Jim was a graduate of the new merchant marine academy, not the military. He came out of the second class of graduates. His school records were promising. When he interviewed with Chris and me, Jim impressed us not only with his grasp of theoretical physics and propulsion but also with his real-world abilities. We gave him five old-fashioned drill bits to sharpen and the tools you might find in a 20st-century machine shop. Without batting an eye, he had those bits as good as new. He explained that he grew up with his grandfather who was a machinist on earth. Grandfather had earned his living as a tool and die maker who had learned his trade from his grandfather. Jim knew how to work with machines, not just the principles that made them work.
Neither of them noticed me as I approached them. They were both hidden under a plasma generator used in the initial warm-up of our engines. I tapped Chris’ foot with mine to get his attention. He pulled Jim out with him.
“How’s the ship look, Jack?” Chris asked.
“Everything is squared away. How are things here in Engineering?” I asked.
“That guy Rustack, you brought over, he sure knows his engineering. We've been going over the changes he suggested and, well I’ve got to tell you, Lola will be faster and more efficient than ever after we make his upgrades. Not just that, but she’ll be much easier to work on.”
“I thought Thom might have a few good ideas.”
“Are you sure he's just the ships engineer on Orla? The man is brilliant.”
“Yes, he is, and we have access to him now that he is in the family business.”
“You should try to get him to spend a month here and see what he might be able to do,” Chris suggested.
“In time, in time, right now he wants to work on the Orla. It took some bargaining to get him to stop over here with Lola. But I’m working on it.”
I left Chris and Jim to finish their work and left the bay. As I walked down the corridor I could hear the noises of the ship at work. The air scrubbers purring in the background, troopers talking and laughing as they went about their chores and training. Off in a new section, a debriefing was being held by Tony Nicosta and Larry Stacey. They were going over the takeoff and landing cycles the pilots had gone through.
Tony was my senior pilot on Lola as well as the senior shuttle pilot. Larry was the senior fighter pilot. In the room with them where the other pilots. They were having an open discussion on the procedures for the flight deck operations. They were developing the rules that we would operate under in the future. Since the flight simulators were in the room next to this one, they could immediately test an idea and work out the bugs. I didn’t want to disturb them, so I kept going towards my stateroom. It was time to take care of some paperwork and get ready for dinner.
Chapter 4
The cruise to Chico 7 continued to be pleasant. No one was shadowing us. At least no one our sensors could spot. I had a complete electronic sweep of the ship, looking for tracking beacons, conducted by Tony Nicosta. The Organization had used them against us in the past, and it almost worked. I wouldn’t take that chance again.
The crew and the Troopers from Genus had fallen into a daily routine of training and exercise interspersed with dining in Lola’s gourmet galley. Most of the Troopers had spent a lifetime in the military and their tastes were simple. Our chefs didn’t let that stop them from preparing mouthwatering meals that appealed to them and challenged the chefs. Much of the Earth’s classic dining is peasant food. It's prepared with the best ingredients to maximize the flavors then presented in a pleasing manner.
Most days you’d find a mouthwatering Pad Thai, Bouillabaisse, Beef Bourguignon, Shepherd’s Pie, or Goulash among the choices on the menu. Each originating among the working class and poor of their home country. They'd been perfected by chefs over the centuries until our chefs had presented their versions to our crew.
Seldom does anyone show up late for a meal. Never do they leave unsatisfied. They all knew they had to hit the gym hard the next morning to burn off the extra calories. Nicky C. made sure they trained hard to make room for their next dinner. He also reminded them that when they got to Chico 7 and were living on the planet, it would be time to go back to MREs.
Julie joined me for dinner and we sat with Leroy Bowman and Chris. Dinner as always was excellent. Afterward, I took a stroll around the ship and ended back on the bridge. Iwona Grolski had the helm and was scrolling through the sensor readouts as I entered.
“Hello Skipper, how are you?”
“I’m good Iwona. How's everything look?”
“We're on course and on time. Space is clear ahead of us with only the occasional freighter skirting our sensor range. Nothing appears to be following us or paralleling our course.” She said.
“That’s good. I want a nice quiet transit. I see you've been checking the sensors. Is that just to stay on top of things?” I asked.
“Yes sir, I don’t want a computer glitch to cause problems because we didn’t notice something. Lola is good but why take the chance?”
“How long to our ETA?”
“At our current speed, we’ll arrive in orbit around Chico 7 in 8 days and 6 hours, give or
take a few minutes,” Iwona answered.
“Iwona, I want to sneak up on Chico 7. Use the outlying planets as cover as we move in. If there's a bandit ship in orbit I don’t want them to know about us until they're in our sights."
“Yes, sir. Got it.” She replied.
We knew that the Organization bandits had attempted to land on the planet. They'd suffered at the defense put up by Jason Henry and Tommy Clarkson. The two Genus Troopers had booby-trapped the landing zone. Once the bandits landed and begun to take up defensive positions the trap was sprung. All that remained after the bandit spacecraft escaped was the charred, skeletal remains of too many sacrificed men.
The bandits hadn’t made another attempt to land. Suspicious darting lights in the night sky had both Jason and Tommy sure the bandits were still in the area and getting ready for another attempt.
At first, no one understood why the bandits would risk so much for this little planet until it was discovered the planet, or at least the section where the Trolls lived, was saturated with a dark green diamond known as Carbonado. To the Trolls they were just colorful stones. In fact, these diamonds, form with the collision of inter-stellar bodies and are then irradiated to become green, were extremely rare and valuable.
When cut, they made stunning pieces of jewelry. More important, they were being used in quantum physics experiments regarding interstellar space travel. I don’t know the details, but the idea is to jump a ship from one part of space to another by causing a warp in the space-time continuum, which the spaceship could then travel without passing the speed of light. It’s beyond my comprehension, but I hope to use it one day.
Because of the rarity of these diamonds, the research has been slow. Keeping the value of the diamonds high. Julie believes that by setting up a trust for the Trolls and funding it with the profit from the Carbonado sales, Chico 7 will be self-sustaining. Since she is the majority stockholder of Hardcore Mining Corporation, she can pull this off.
As usual, the ship’s common area converted to a movie theater and everyone not on duty was pulling up seats. Nicky C ran the antique popcorn popper in the back corner. Tonight, they were showing a classic movie from the mid-twentieth century, Damn Yankees. I had to chuckle to myself. Everyone would know the secret behind Lola’s name and my philosophy. Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.
Julie waved me over and had me sit beside her on a love seat. She already had a tub of hot buttered popcorn and was excited to see the movie. Here were some of the most deadly and skilled military operators, each honed to a fine edge and hardened in the fire of battle. They were laughing and joking waiting to see a musical. Tomorrow they would be singing and whistling the songs as they exercised and trained.
These movie nights helped forge team spirit and build comradery. The fact was, in less than two weeks, we stood a good chance we’d be in combat with bandits. The biggest and baddest of the Troopers would be smiling and singing show tunes later.
After the film finished I excused myself and went to my cabin. Julie followed close behind. For some reason, this beautiful woman who happens to be one of the wealthiest people anywhere has fallen in love with me and agreed to be my wife.
I sat in one of the rich burgundy leather club chairs and Julie sat next to me on the other. “Julie, I want to talk. We should be planning our wedding and setting a date but here we are speeding to another fight on a strange new planet. I’m sorry.”
“Jack, as long as we’re together it doesn’t matter. We’ll get to it. This gives me time to work out the details anyway. I know you and I don’t think you’re using this as a ploy to stay single. Besides, this is needed. You and I need to be here.”
Chapter 5
Julie and I had gone to bed after our talk, but we didn’t sleep at first. When we did, we were well spent. I awoke at my usual time and showered. As I was dressing, Julie stepped in to take her shower. We’d meet later for breakfast.
I left the cabin and strode to the bridge. I wanted to check on the overnight activity. Tony Nicosta was in the Navigators chair and Al Hogan was at the Weapons station and had configured it for piloting. Both said good morning without the fog of having been on duty all night. They had come on thirty minutes before I arrived and were going through the overnight reports.
“Anything happen overnight?” I asked.
Tony responded, “We got a message from Chico 7. They report there are more signs the bandits are in orbit, but there’ve been no further attempts to land in their area. However, they can’t say that there haven’t been any landings beyond the horizon. Dr. Dora and the rest of them are becoming well versed in what they are calling Trollian. Jason reports that they find Carbonado where ever they look in the caves. They're finding large stones too, many larger than a golf ball. This has to be an amazing find.”
“How is our ETA? Are we still on time?” I asked
Al answered, “Your request to slip in unnoticed added about two hours to our trip, but we’re still right on schedule.”
“Any nosey ships in the area?” They both understood I worried about bandits following or attacking us on our trip.
“Nothing that our sensors can spot. We appear to be traveling alone. That doesn’t mean that there won’t be a welcoming party waiting for us when we get there.” Tony responded.
I nodded back at Tony. “We’ll be ready.”
I composed a message for Chico 7. I wanted to keep them up to date on our ETA. I sent Julie, Chris, and Nicky a message to meet me in my galley. I wanted to go over the plan I was fleshing out in my head for our arrival.
Excusing myself from the bridge, I stepped into the passageway. Troopers and our new experts were busy training and preparing for the mission. We had a little over a week until our arrival. The new experts had to become qualified with our power suits and procedures. We didn’t want to lose any of them. Leroy Bowman was training them and putting them through the simulators. They were doing well and adjusting to the skin-tight suits.
We now had two suits. The original power suit wore like a second skin. It can be worn by itself but most of us had taken to wearing it under some clothing. It fit your shape and unless you were in the best physical condition it showed your every tiny flaw and extra ounce without much modesty. Most people took to wearing a flight suit or coveralls over them. This also gave you pockets which the power suit lacked.
The newer version upgraded the older suit with the addition of an exoskeleton and active camo. The old suits allowed the use of a helmet which had simple communication and heads-up displays. The new suits had helmets with a more substantial locking collar and much greater computing power. The new suits also sported a larger backpack.
The old suit had a thick belt that contained the gasses you needed in a sealed suit. By itself, you had a couple hours of breathable air. With the available add-on back-pack, you could get up to 24 hours. The new suit, helmet, and backpack would allow you as much as a week underwater or in outer space with no atmosphere. With greater ballistic protection and a protection from both laser and photon beam weapons, the Troopers were unstoppable.
These new suits were state of the art and the only reason we had them, was due to the good graces of our benefactor General Mauer. The General kept Genus on retainer and helped supply us with gear and manpower. In return, we acted as his eyes and ears out here. Sometimes we were a lot more.
Life in the military was hard on a person. Few people retired without some serious injury. The military would cut you lose once you no longer met the physical requirements, even if you could do the job. Lose a leg and you were out of work. With the cybernetic leg replacements provided by the military, your replacement leg was stronger than a real leg. Replacement eyes got you disabled out of the military even though your new replacements gave you greater vision than ever.
I know it doesn’t make sense, but bureaucracies are like that. That left Mauer short manpower and sent us the cream of his former ranks. Sure, the average Genus Trooper was a little older than you
find in the military ranks, but the skills and training the troopers had were worth millions. Their confidence level far surpassed what you found on a military transport.
You might expect to hear the Troopers boasting and bragging amongst themselves. In Genus, it was more professional. These Troopers knew what to expect from each other. Even more important, they knew what they were capable of themselves. They’d faced pain, death, and injury and they survived. They didn’t scare easily, and that meant they didn’t need to bolster their own bravery with loud bravado.
They cheered for each other during the combat matches in the gym. Of course, there was good hearted trash talk among the Troops, but more than anything, you saw and felt the deep respect they had for each other.
Chris Williams and Nicky Ceserea worked to ensure this atmosphere. They weeded out anyone that might be a troublemaker and not up to Genus standards. That didn’t happen often but on occasion, they would separate someone from the team and send him packing. Usually, the troublemaker had a generous separation check in their pocket and a referral for another job with some other company. No point in making enemies when they didn’t need to. After all, those that didn’t cut it were also highly trained. We didn’t want to see one working for the Organization’s bandits.
Rapparee: The Regeneration (The Journey of the Freighter Lola Book 5) Page 3
