by Rob Buckman
“You’ll need these if you are going to watch. It gets a little bright in here, even with the polarized windows and monitors.”
He was right. The first frame member hung in midair, suspended in an anti-gravity field. The crew remotely position the induction-heating coil into position, each crew chief crosschecking with the other to double check that the alignment was correct. Each crew chief reported back to the shop Foreman that everything was ready to start the process. After one last check, he pressed a button on his panel and immediately, a horn sounded and the red warning lights in the chamber started flashing. This was the last step to ensure the forming chamber was clear of all personnel. Thirty seconds later the power bar on the screen started to rise as more and more amps were pumped into the heating coil. For a while, nothing happened, but after a few minutes, the frame member started to glow. First orange, then cherry red as the power input slowly climbed until it started the glow light. It didn’t take long before had to pull his goggles down, but a quick look at the temperature gage before he did showed it passing two thousand degrees. At two thousand eight hundred degrees, the frame member began to flex in the anti-gravity field.
“That will do it.” The Foreman announced.
The coils retracted and once clear, the frame member was lowered into the new jig where it slowly conformed to the new shape and began to cool. Before the glow started to fade, the Ag plates under the floor came on, pulling the glowing frame down into the jig under six gravities, making the frame member start to glow white-hot again. Then the jig was flooded with coolant, instantly boiling as it met the glowing metal, quenching and hardening the member. For a moment, it was difficult to see through the cloud of white steam, but the blowers soon cleared it out and Mike could see the finished frame member again. Between the heading, compression and quenching it was hard to guess just how strong they were, something even beyond the armored plates used in the hull.
“That went well, Leftenant. Once we’re moved this one out to the shop for polishing we’ll start on the next one.
“Thanks for letting me watch, it was very educational.” The Foreman laughed.
“Not very often one of you naval officers comes down here to see this, so it was a pleasure having you.”
“Maybe more of them should. They’d learn a hell of a lot more about their ship if they watched it being built.” They shook hands and Mike went off back to his rooms to get some sleep.
With double work crews, and a constant flow of material through the double door it was difficult to keep the place warm, but within three days, everything began settling down into a steady rhythm, that was until the same old battered Land Rover came slipping and sliding down the road in a spray of slushy mud. He passed through the Marine checkpoint, and after a short delay, a yard dog escorted Mr. Tottenham into the shelter.
“Nice to see you again, Leftenant Mike Gray.” A little portly man smiled as he shook hands.
“I have your first shipment, Leftenant.”
“Thank God for that, what do you have?”
“Your power plant, main engines, the AG components and your warp drive.” Mike breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s a pity you aren’t female, I’d kiss you otherwise.”
“Oh, that’s really not necessary.” He chuckled. “If I get a kiss for the first shipment, I wonder what I get for your second one.”
“What else do you have?”
“Your main and secondary armament, navigation’s equipment, radar and sensors and just about every other major component you need, Captain.”
“ You are a life saver.”
“Thank you, sir, I appreciate that.” He looked around at the salt marshes. “Not exactly the place to spend Christmas and new years, is it.”
“No, it isn’t, but what about the rest of the equipment?”
“Oh, I pick that up directly from the R&D facility, that’s why it won’t arrive until tomorrow, a few of the items were still being packaged when I departed.” He beamed, happily. “I also have a few items in the vehicle to unload and give to you.” Mike raised an eyebrow in question. “Your O & M manuals.” Mike called Conner and arranged for him to send two men to help unload while he read and signed the requisition documents, in triplicate of course. In the mean time, Mr. Tottingham hurried out to his vehicle, dived inside, and began handing out armfuls of data pads.
“I have a lot more, sir, where would you like me to put them?” He said, arriving back at Mike’s Command shack.
In all it took the men, two trips to carry all the manuals inside, much to the delight of Adam, Gable, and Spencer. An hour later, Mr.Tottingham’s comm unit paged him, and he gave directions to someone. The short while later, a giant transport lifter came slowly up the estuary, its sides, scraping the banks as it maneuvered itself into position to unload the cargo. Mike had called Cynthia, and she had two heavy cranes on hand by the time it arrived to lift the units inside the hanger. No sooner had they unloaded the first, when it pulled away to make room for another. In all, three heavy cargo haulers arrived, and the last one wasn’t completely unloaded until late evening. Mike signed for the last shipment as the transports rumbled off into the darkness, thanking the little man repeatedly.
“I’ll see you again tomorrow with the remainder of your equipment, Leftenant.”
“I’ll have the coffee and donuts waiting this time.”
“Oh, that would be nice.” He beamed as he climbed into his Range Rover. “See you tomorrow.” He waved, and drove away.
Mike smiled and walked back into the hanger, stamping his feet to remove the snow and trying to get the blood circulating again. The inside became a beehive of activity around the main engines, and a few shouts and lots of laughter.
“Okay, what’s the joke?” He asked, walking up.
“Good God, have you seen the size of these bloody power plants?” Adam asked. Mike blew into his hand to warm them.
“No, not yet Adam, what’s wrong, too big?”
“Oh, sorry, sir, of course you haven’t, they are too small.”
“Too small?” That brought more laughs. “Yes, sir, these fusion plants are half the size of the old one, and I hadn’t realized until I saw them that it’s not one unit we are talking about installing, but three.” He looked like a small boy who just found out he’d inherited a toy store. “They have tripled the power output I expected in half the size.” Silently, Mike thanked Lady Luck. “So, what did they send us?”
“Gravatronics Tokomak Mark 6 high energy fusion reactor.” He breathed a look of awe on his face.
“Christ! I didn’t even know they made one this powerful. At peak, it puts out 150 thousand terawatts.” Mike was impressed, but a little worried. Had he considered the size of these units when he designed the ship? They were about to find out. Whoever was behind this had made sure he got the best. These were experimental units, and not even in service yet.
“And the rest of the equipment?”
“Even better than I imagined. It’s all brand new, and the latest design, wow!” As he spoke, he flipped through a material list on the data card, then stopped, and waved it at Mike. “The turbines are all magnetic bearing with ambient temperature super conducting stator, rotor, windings, and Ag field magnets.” The expression on Adams face made it look as if he’d died and gone to heaven. “This is going to be one powerful warship when she’s finished, Skipper.”
“If we get her finished that is.”
“Yes, Skipper, right, but it won’t be for a lack of trying.”
“Let me know if you need anything, or another pair of hands.”
“Will do, Skipper, thanks.” Whoever orchestrated this effort from behind the scenes had kept their promise. He had the best and the latest equipment possible. Now it was up to him to get the ship finished and into space, before whoever they were, could stop him.
Now the yard crew had the equipment they were waiting for the pace kicked into high gear. Now that all the frame members were reform
ed, they were set into position along the lower and side transoms, and fusion welded into place. After that, Mike watched in amazement as it appeared they were building the ship from the inside out, but after he’d thought about it for a moment, it made sense. The first things to go in were the laminated armor plate that surrounded the crystal matrix super computer, which was the heart and soul of his ship. After five sides were fusion welded into place, the fitters slid a non-descript looking steel box containing the computer into place inside. The six and final wall was placed just short of fitting in place and held there while the electricians ran the power and data cable through the pre-drilled holes and tied to the computer. The last plate was carefully lowered into its place, and bolted rather than welded in place. In theory, that some time in the future, it could be replaced with an updated unit. Mike suspected that to do that, they have to rip half the ship apart to get the old one out. Once that was completed, they started building the combined Bridge and combat information center, or CIC right above the computer chamber. Mike had incorporated both functions into one, with a smaller, more compact auxiliary CIC near the stern of the ship. In combat, this would be the first officer, or XO battle station, ready to take over should the main CIC go down or off-line. As the days rolled into months, the inside ship began to take shape much quicker than normal, thanks to Mike design and having many of the major compartments fabricated in modular form in various yard shops, some of them already fitting out with the equipment and instrument panels. All that was necessary after they’d been fitted into place was wiring them up.
CHAPTER THREE: Royal Command
The engine room crew stood in open-mouthed amazement, while the crew chief scratched his head, wondering how he was going to get all three fusion bottles and ancillary equipment inside the ship. Thankfully, they hadn’t done much in the way of work on the engine room, other than lay in the deck plates. If they had to, they’d redo those as well as these engines didn’t need anywhere as much space as the older units. A mini convoy and three heavy lifters arrived the next day and unloaded tons of equipment and much of it had to remain outside, as by this time, there was little space to spare inside the environ shelter. After that, work sped up to a fever pitch, and as one crew of fitters finished a compartment, another crew began stuffing equipment into it. Thankfully, each day, more of his ‘office staff’ turned up and Mike and Peter assigned them to work under one of the Officers, CPO Blake, or alongside the yard crews. December the 23 came around, and Mike told Conner to call a halt to work at Noon and gathered the yard crew together. Standing on a crate, Mike looked over the group, feeling slightly self-conscious with all eyes on him.
“Thank you for coming, but I am calling a halt to the work as of 12:00 today.” Mike held his hand up for silence, as that set of a murmuring through the group. “Hold on, it's not what you think.” He smiled to reassure them.
“As much as I would like to get my ship finished, its December the 23, so I’m sending you all home, have a merry Christmas. I’ll see you all back here after the holiday.” For a moment, there was silence. Then they clapped, and cheered. Conner nodded to the crew supervisor, as if to say ‘I told you’ a smile wreathing his weathered face.
“Thanks, Captain,” a small man stepping forward, “Able March here. I’m the chief union steward, and speaking for us all, if it's all the same to you, we’d like to carry on and finished her.”
“But?” Mike stammered, taken completely by surprise. He thought they only be too glad to get a few days off.
“The thought is appreciated. But we feel that getting this ship finished and out into space, is a little more important somehow than us missing one Christmas with our families.” With that, they clapped again and went back to work.
“Chief?” He appealed to Conner, but found him already shaking his head.
“It's already been settled, sir.”
“But… but...” Mike was at a loss for words, suddenly feeling insecure again.
“Besides that, you have an official party at the Palace to go to.” Conner’s eyes twinkled as he said it.
“I do?” Mike tried to remember if he’d receive an invitation or not. The last few days were a fog and he groped about in it, trying to remember.
“Yes, sir, the invitation arrived two days ago, but being so busy, you didn’t see it.”
“Oh Christ!” He groaned.
“That’s all right, sir. I answered the RSVP, and your dress uniform is packed.”
“I’ll have to cancel then. There’s no way I can get to the Palace in time now?” As much as he wanted to see Ann again, his ship was far more important.
“No problem, sir, I have the pilot standing by in the Marine scout car to take you to London.”
“I can’t go Chief!” He protested, looking around for support, seeing all four of his command staff standing there grinning at him.
“No choice, sir, Royal Command, and all that.” Pete grinned.
“Yes, sir, give the King our regards when you see him.” Adam said, taking him by the elbow and leading him firmly towards the hanger door.
“Don’t forget to say Merry Christmas from all of us here.” Was Gable’s contribution. Before he even realized it, he was aboard the scout car with the sound of the hatch closing behind him.
“Lifting, sir.” The pilot intoned, and Mike quickly buckled in as he felt the vehicle quiver under his feet, a bemused look on his face.
“I’ve been press-ganged!” He yelled at last.
“Yes, sir.” The shuttle pilot chuckled. “You could say that.”
“Sheesh! That’s tantamount to mutiny.” He grumbled, feeling something tug at his heart. That the pilot was in on the plot was obvious.
His only answer was another chuckle from the pilot as he lifted off and headed down the estuary before climbed into the traffic pattern. Mike resigned himself to his fate, yet he felt it unfair for him to take off for a party when the other remained behind to work on the ship. The XO and Conner Blake stood watched the scout car climb away, and shook hands.
“Nicely done, Chief.”
“Thank you, sir. I knew he wouldn’t voluntarily go to the party with us all working so I hide the invitation.”
“He’s been working himself to death, and needs the break.”
“He still has a lot to learn, sir.”
“Not much from what I can see.”
“At least you had the advantage of getting used to your rank at each step before going to the next, sir.”
“That’s true, Chief, I did, but I have the feeling that my new Captain is a fast learner.”
“That he is, sir, that he is.”
“Hope he enjoys himself at the party.”
“Oh, I think he will.” Conner’s battered face remained blank, except for the shadow of a smile around his lips.
“Someone there he might like to get together with?” Pete asked, shooting the CPO a quizzing look.
“You could say that, sir, but that would be telling tales out of school, now wouldn’t it sir.” The XO chuckled.
“Wouldn’t want you to do that, Chief.” Together they walked inside and went back to work, and as the XO turned away, he never saw the broad smile on Conner’s face.
Mike’s only recourse was to settle back in his seat, and take a nap. Trying to get the Marine pilot to turn back proved fruitless, as the man kept tapping his headset and saying he had a communications problem. With a sigh, Mike closed his eyes and tried to relax as a thousand and one uncompleted problems marched through his head in a seemingly endless parade. He wasn’t the only one with a multitude of unresolved issues crowding in on him, and the Prime Minister looked up at his private secretary with a sour expression on his face.
CHAPTER FOUR:
“Every time I turn around, the bloody Navy comes up with another load of shit not to do what they are told.” He grouched.
“Yes, sir. It would seem so.” Gordon Atkins murmured.
“We have to get as many of those
ships retired to the breakers yard as quickly as possible, and their crews on the beach.”
“Yes, sir. The First Space Lord is doing his best, but going too fast could cause more trouble than we need right now.”
“Yes, I know.” The PM sighed, eyeing his calendar. If the promises he’d received were to be believed, the clock was ticking. If he didn’t deliver what he’d promised, the question of his ‘advancement’ would be null and void.
“A rumor has come to our attention the Navy is building a new warship, sir.”
“How creditable are the rumors?” The PM asked, looking up sharply at his secretary.
“At the moment, nothing more than a whisper.”
“We’ve heard these stories before.”
