Brandon had brought the “nose.” He removed a thin two-by-four inch case from his carry pouch, then nudged his EMU forward to the nearest wall. Here he opened the case and planted it on the wall. It was magnetic, but also had adhesive on the back. The case contained a test nose, a few red and green LEDs, and an analog gauge showing air pressure. It read just over twelve psi. The “nose” was a growth from human lung stock that ”breathed.” It was very sensitive and the ultimate test to see if the air was in any way harmful to humans.
After watching the atmospheric analyzer on her wrist for a moment, Evelyn cautiously announced, “The air looks…good.”
Leewood moved close to Evelyn and checked the read outs, “Ok, no indication of poisonous gases or dangerous organisms,” he said more to himself. He backed away and turned and looked at the ”nose” – it was still doing fine. The two-inch piece of flesh with a hole in the top rose up and down. Both LEDs were green.
He looked at the others and then seemed to make up his mind. He reached up and started pulling the quick release catches on his helmet’s visor. The others just watched. With a slight pop, his visor lifted away exposing Leewood’s face to the outside air. He kept his hands on the visor ready to close it again fast if need be. At first he held his breath and waited to see if the air burned his skin or his eyes. It didn’t, so far so good. He took a tentative breath of the cold air and blew it back out—a slight smile touched his mouth. “A little stale and very cold, but I think we’re all-green.”
The others removed their visors and looked around at each other. Evelyn then smiled and said with exaggerated fanfare, “I declare the Hideaway Shipyard officially open for business.” They all laughed with relief.
---
At the Anderson Shipyard, Radin strode across the vast assembly room. It was filled with people and activity, and to him, it looked the same as any other day which was good and as it should be.
The thing was, not long ago, none of these people knew why they were here. Two days ago the President’s speech had told them. But he assumed that actually they had known why in general terms: to serve and protect. Perhaps the specifics of the job really didn’t matter that much.
A thought occurred to him. Radin looked around at the elevators, then followed the elevator shafts up the wall to the third and upper most level before the shafts disappeared into the ceiling. At each of the three stops, walkways partially encircled the room with doors to offices. Just a few months ago, General Burnwall had led him out of the top most elevator door and stood with him overlooking this room. Over a thousand officers had stood at attention in parade formation, in full dress uniform, on this floor he now walked on. There had been L-Class fighters interspersed among them. He turned his head and looked at the huge window at the far end of the room—it was empty now, showing only the stars. However, on that day, they had placed the ten Leviathan Battleships out there so that they could be seen trailing off into the distance.
Burnwall had done all this to welcome him. And when he walked out of that elevator and saw it all, it had overwhelmed him. He tried to image what he had looked like to those down here on that day. Small, he decided.
Of course, Burnwall had not staged all of that just for him…he had done it for everyone in the Leviathan Task Force to kick things off and to infuse every member with pride, enthusiasm and initiative.
Anderson had not really had the facilities they needed – not enough classrooms, office space or even enough quarters to house the 1000 officers. So they had taken over the large assembly room.
The floor of the large room was filled with activity. To his left, ten L-fighter simulators just in from Hideaway via a Loud Umbrella Ship were being unpacked and assembled. To his right, twenty officers were seated taking a class. Ahead was an L-fighter – a dozen officers were gathered around it while an instructor pointed out and explained different parts.
As far as finding places for the officers to sleep, that had been easy – they had just housed them in five of the ten Battleships. Within the week the 1000 officers would receive their assignments and they would all relocate to their assigned battleships.
Radin reached the elevators and pressed the call button. He was headed for the General’s office. He had made the appointment first thing this morning and he again went over the proposal in his head. He knew he was about to double the stress levels of both himself and the General but…they had a problem, and Radin had come up with a solution.
The problem was that bringing everyone up to speed to fill the vital ship positions in all ten of the Juggernauts would take at least another eight months. Add six months of shake-out maneuvers, then say another six months travel time to Hideaway, and they were looking at well over a year and a half to coax the ten old Battleships to Hideaway. And by any yardstick, those timeframes were ambitious.
However, they needed to be out to Hideaway in half that time. Evelyn Eden said that in ten months, they would need to start moving five of Anderson’s battleships into the docks in order to test and fine tune the dock’s systems. According to Mrs. Eden, they couldn’t use any of the thirty ships they already had out there for a number of reasons, all of them relating to the fact that those ships were untested…untried. Both Radin and General Burnwall had told the Edens as well as the President that they were simply asking the impossible. But obviously…Radin’s subconscious had not given up and had been working overtime.
Radin was so focused on his pitch to sell his plan that his ride up the lift and walk to Burnwall’s office passed unnoticed, and he suddenly found himself in front of Burnwall’s secretary. “Well, hello, Talvin, how are you?” She was the only one, on this base anyway, who used his given name.
“Is the big guy in?” he stammered.
Jet had been General Burnwall’s secretary for twenty-three years and she was a force unto herself. She got to her feet and came around her desk smiling, “Oh…thanks for asking, Talvin…I’m fine, too.” Radin turned red and seemed to shrink in size. Jet came up to him and squeezed his arms. “Oh…I’m just kidding, Talvin… you’re just such an easy target,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. She guided him to Burnwall’s office door. “He’s waiting for you.” She gave him a puzzled look, “Since when do you make appointments to barge in here?” she asked. “This must be important.” She stretched the word important out making it sound more like “impotent.” She opened the door, guiding a somewhat verbally bruised Radin Talvin into the General’s office and closed the door.
Burnwall smiled broadly and set aside some papers he had been working on. “Please!” he motioned Radin to the two plush chairs in front of his desk, “Sit down!” Burnwall leaned back in his chair and sighed as Radin took his seat. “How are we doing out there?” he asked.
Radin still wasn’t used to seeing the young, well built kid sitting behind Burnwall’s desk. Burnwall had finally taken the Loud I-pill and it had taken him back to his early twenties. The “old man” wasn’t the old man anymore and Radin was still taken back every time he saw Burnwall. Hiding his reaction, Radin blinked and huffed, “You mean to tell me you don’t read those reports I spend hours on each week!”
Burnwall waved his hand, “Of course I do! But I’m busy as shit and a little behind…besides, if there was a problem, you’d be in here to tell me about it…” he gestured towards Radin and squinted, “just as you are now.” He gave Radin an expectant, if somewhat reluctant, look, “I’m almost afraid to ask.
Radin chuckled and replied, “It’s nothing like that, Joe. In fact, I think you’re going to like it!” Burnwall’s look didn’t change, but he opened his hands inviting Radin to go on. “We pretty much have two crews trained that could begin trials.”
“Yes, but if we let them do that, who will continue to train the rest?”
“You mean train them in classrooms and simulators?” Radin leaned forward not waiting for an answer, “Why not in the ships themselves.”
Burnwall barked a laugh, “Are you nuts! They’d
destroy themselves, the ships, and this facility!”
“Not if we left enough empty space between the ships and…anything else.”
Burnwall’s expression went quizzical and he leaned back and steeped his fingers, “We’d have to get outside the borders of the planetary system. They aren’t ready to take the ships out there. And even if they could, you’re adding the cost of fully stocking and fueling the ships…to what gain?”
Radin got a lopsided grin on his face and he made circles in the air with his right index finger, “We have tons of empty space on almost the entire route to Hideaway…and,” Radin held his palms up to Burnwall warding off the coming objection, “…the Leviathans have this little feature I recently learned about called…‘slave mode.’”
Burnwall’s head twitched, “Slave mode,” he repeated, and a very thoughtful look came into his eyes. “That’s very interesting.”
“It sure is,” Radin replied with a grin.
---
Four months later…
Wicker contacted the special team and held a very short teleconferencing meeting. He said, “In September, that’s about six months from now, I will hold a meeting, a large and top secret meeting to discuss our defense options. I want Hideaway to host it. This is where we will hash out everything with everyone who will be involved. Information will be coming to each of you. It will be…” he inhaled, “our first counsel of war.”
---
Two months later…
From her office door in sub-basement five of the capital building, Jan Parker looked over her domain. The large room was filled with the sounds of people working, people walking quickly this way and that. To her it was the sound of happiness.
She saw Lenny and smiled – it was time to put the boy out of his misery, but she’d make him pay just a little more first. She hid her smile, put on a serious expression and then got his attention, motioning him over. He came into her office and Jan started to close the door when she saw Woodworth and motioned him in as well. It was only fair.
Jan walked around behind her desk and sat down still wearing her stern expression. She had decided that she was definitely going to drag this out and play it for all it was worth! She just looked at Lenny and said nothing.
Finally, he shrugged, “Ah…er…what?” He waved his arms.
Jan slowly shook her head. "Okay Mister…” she said in a firm voice as if she were going to dress him down. He waved his arms again looking helplessly between her and Woodworth who had turned away and was pretending to look at some charts on the wall. However, Woodworth blew it by turning a little too much—Lenny saw the smile he was trying to hide. He looked back at Jan, a touch of excitement growing in his eyes.
The game was up and Jan slowly let her stern look start to slip, “Okay,” she said again with the last trace of forced sternness, “you can stop your pathetic pouting and mulling around now.” She could not hide it any longer and her smile broke through.
Lenny suddenly straightened and his eyes lit up. "I'm going! Right? I’m going…” he looked around and lowered his voice—he was really not supposed to know, “…out to Hideaway, for the meeting!"
"Yes,” Jan said dragging the word out reluctantly, “you and Trevor as well.” Lenny was almost bobbing out of his shoes. She shook her head, her eyes twinkling, "Thank Floyd, he convinced the powers that be that, like many others, we too needed 'our aids.’"
Lenny, who was all smiles now, looked over at Woodworth, "Alright!"
Woodworth smiled and said, "Well, I just couldn't stand to see it any longer…the two of you mulling around here looking like you'd both lost your best friends."
"Alright!” Lenny repeated. He bounded towards the office door, "I've got to go tell Trevor!"
Jan spoke up stopping him short, "Did I mention how we'd be getting out there?” Lenny spun around his eyes widening even further.
"Well, it seems we'll be hitching a ride with the Loud on one of their Umbrella ships."
"Alright!” Lenny said again. He flew out the door. As he passed the window, they saw him jump, punch the air, and yell “ALRIGHT!”
Jan looked over at Woodworth, "Did something suddenly happen to that boy's vocabulary shrinking it to just one word?” They both chuckled.
---
It had been eight months since Radin had discovered “slave mode” and discussed it with General Burnwall, a very busy eight months but it had been worth it.
High above Amular, Captain Radin Talvin strode across the bridge of the Leviathan Battleship Lambert and stood before the captain’s seat. He looked around the bridge at the various stations and crew, then looked up and studied the holographic tactical display – a semitransparent holographic sphere fifteen feet in diameter that floated in the air before him and over the heads of the eight officers stationed in the nose of the bridge. It showed all ten battleships in a widely spaced line that extended for twenty miles, starting from ten miles above the Anderson Shipyards at the Northern pole and extending into space. The Lambert was at the front of that line. All of the battleships were currently at station keeping.
A fully trained bridge crew of twenty-five including the captain manned the Leviathan Battleship’s bridge—General Burnwall’s presence made it twenty-six. A seat had been mounted slightly behind and to the right of the captain's chair for him. He was there as an observer only—it was Captain Radin’s show.
The bridge was roughly a large rounded triangle with three levels, all of it encased in twelve feet of battle armor. The front and sides of the bridge held massive windows made of five-foot thick transparent poly-steel. When at battle stations, the entire bridge was lowered into the huge hollow wedge it sat on top of – basically the entire front section of the battleship. This encased the bridge with almost one million tons of hardened battle steel intermixed with structural integrity fields and force barriers – a virtually impregnable nest which theoretically could survive a direct nuclear hit, though such a hit would likely seal them inside.
On the first level of the bridge, perched on the top of a five-foot high stepped pyramid, was the large captain’s chair and station. The ends of the chair’s arms held communication panels connecting him to every part of the ship. Above his chair, placed so that they did not block the windows or the hologram display, four large screens formed a semicircle around the chair. They displayed summaries of all system functions.
To Radin's front right and descending on each of the pyramid’s broad steps forward into the nose was his first officer’s station, then the Astrogation station manned by two officers, then just before the large front view port was helm control where a single helmsman managed the speed of the huge ship and steered her. To Radin's front left was his science officer, followed by the two officers at the science stations, and then the master sensor control station, again, managed by a single sensor specialist. Off to Radin's lower right and set slightly back, four officers operated the master weapons control station, and on the opposite side, on his lower left, four more officers operated the communication stations.
On the second level up, to the left and right, well behind the captain’s chair, were the traffic control stations for the starboard and port fighter bays. Finally, positioned directly behind but well above the captain's seat on the third level up, four officers manned the damage control and environmental control stations.
Towering over the entire bridge structure, large arches arced upward from the floor. Four ran from side to side with another running front to back – all merging high overhead approximately at the center of the bridge. They encased the bridge in its own dedicated structural integrity and inertial dampening fields.
Radin studied the hologram for a moment longer, double checking the position of every battleship, then sat down and cleared his throat. “Ms. January, please engage slave mode on all ships,” he ordered.
His first officer, Commander Susan January, turned in her seat, “Slave mode engaged, sir.”
Nothing changed on the h
olographic display…which was good.
Radin’s aid handed him a cup of coffee. Radin thanked him and settled back in the captain’s seat. Now he was ready to start the show, “Ms. January, ease us forward and let’s see what happens.” They had tested Slave Mode several times before with up to five ships, but this was all ten, and better safe than sorry.
The main engines came to life and a low rumble could be heard as a deep vibration ran through the deck plates. On each of the nine ships slaved to the Lambert, the same thing was happening. Slowly they all began to move forward.
Radin smiled and sipped his coffee.
After twenty minutes, Radin was satisfied and ordered the ships to half speed. Upon clearing Amular's planetary system, he brought their speed up to three quarters—their normal cruising speed. He looked over at General Burnwall and they shared a smile. They were on their way almost a year ahead of schedule!
---
Six months later…
A scant thirteen million miles from the sun, nestled in the shadow of the small planet Cinder, work continued around the clock at the Hideaway Shipyard. All five ship docks were functional and fully staffed now. Evelyn, Brandon, Harrington and Leewood had gathered in the Eden’s quarters to watch the monthly communication from Captain Radin aboard the Leviathan Battleship Lambert leading the ten battleships to Hideaway. The fleet had been traveling for months while at the same time training the new crews and conducting exercises. Radin’s communications still remained one-way affairs due to the response time.
Radin’s transmission was just wrapping up. "So,” Radin was saying on the com screen, “the training and exercises have been going reasonably well, though thankfully, Slave Mode continues to work great, and provided we maintain our current speed, we should be seeing you in about a month. Of course, we should be talking in real time in a few days. We rendezvous with a Loud Umbrella Ship two days from now to get our very own Tachyon com unit, and as I understand it, a day later you’ll get one. I think that’s about it. General?”
Encounters 1: The Spiral Slayers Page 27
