He Who Dares: Book Two (The Gray Chronicals 2)

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He Who Dares: Book Two (The Gray Chronicals 2) Page 13

by Rob Buckman


  There were no short cuts here, and even a .0125 drops in pressure would indicate they had a leak somewhere. Although the fuel tanks were isolated from the rest of the ship, except for the fuel lines, no one wanted hydrogen leaking into any dead spaced. The civilian work crews looked pleased when Adam reported no leaks, and the transfer of hydrogen began. Even so, he stopped all hot work and shut down anything that might cause a spark and had his engineering staff constantly checking with monitoring equipment. Hydrogen was a great fuel for the fusion reactors, but it was deadly outside. A small leak and a spark could potentially blow the ship apart.

  The fueling went on all night, but this was only a fraction of the amount they need in space. This was only to get them up and running out to the re-fueling dock on Europe, or one of the others. They could scoop, but that took time, and was only efficient on long journeys at high speed. Even before they’d finished transferring the last of the hydrogen, four more tanker barges turned up, this time with liquid air. This wasn’t so potentially explosive, but even so, Adam’s crew took their time about checking for leaks and pressure drops in the line. In one way, the liquid air was even more critical than the hydrogen, as it ran all over the ship. It provided breathing air to each compartment and workstation for use in combat condition in case of a hull breach, or for the crew to use it rather than the air tanks on their battle armor. That way, if and when, they disconnected each had a full 12-hour supply of air in their suits tanks. As the pressure came up, the engineering crew began purging and testing each section of airline and installing the drier units. This prevented ice build up, and a possible blockage, something just life threatening in space as it was for terrestrial submarines.

  Again, this was only their initial supply, and they’d fill all the tanks when they refueled. The one thing they couldn’t take from Earth in any great quantity was water, needed for the cooling, personal use, cooking, cleaning and sundry other uses. A small amount of ultra pure water would start them off until they could fill up at a re-fueling station in space. The main reason for not filling on Earth was not just to prevent depletion of Earth's water supply, but for bacterial, microbe content and residual chemical traces. Even before they’d finished unloading the tanker, another pulled in with their reactor coolant, and this was what they needed the most. Without a full system, they couldn’t start the fusion reactor, or run it for more than a few minutes. The whole crew worked long into the night and into the next day, full of sleet and icy rain, each crew taking turn to get inside and warm up. Late that night they’d finished and many just crawled into any available bunk they could find empty and fell instantly asleep. The next day dawned bright and clear, the sun turning the salt marshes into a magical place as it sparkle with a thousand points of light from the snow and ice covering the estuary, a wonderland of diamonds.

  “Captain, I have the Yard Superintendent on the line for you.”

  “Thank you.” Mike answered sleepily, having just woken up. “What’s up Cynthia?”

  “Trouble, or course, that nosy Parker, the Chief Investigator is back, and I think he knows where your ship is.”

  “Damn! We aren’t ready to lift yet, we don’t have an operating system!”

  “Sorry, Mike, there’s nothing I can do to stall him any longer, he’s on his way over towards you as we speak.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Cynthia, I appreciate that.”

  “You have maybe an hour at the most what with all the snow and ice, so if you have any chance of getting out of here, be gone when he arrives. Bye, and good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Mike keyed off and hit the ‘all station key. “XO and CPO Blake to my ready room, on the double.”

  “We’ve got trouble!” He stated as the two men entered, quickly explaining the situation while he dressed.

  “Then we’re sunk, Skipper.” Pete Standish took his cap off and sighed.

  “We can stall him for a while, sir.” Conner put in.

  “I’m not giving up without a fight, so what are our options?”

  “I don’t see any, Skipper, he has the authority to come in here and do what he wants, and there’s nothing we can do legally to stop him.”

  “What about illegally?”

  “Skipper, we can’t, not without risking court Marshall.”

  “If we could lift the ship before he see her, what then?”

  “Lift her? Well, if he didn’t actually see her, then he couldn’t do anything, but we can’t lift her, not without the operating system.” In fury, Mike thumped his desk, rattling the coffee mugs.

  “Damn it, we’ve come this close! There has to be something we can do?” He swung his chair round and looked at the computer. “Technology! In some way it the curse of mankind...” Somehow, they found his ship, spy sat, computer records, something, but without that very same technology, they were sunk. His face went blank for a moment. Then he smiled.

  “Chief, what would we do in a combat situation if they hit main frame or it went off line for some reason?”

  “Hit? Um, well, we’d have to fight the ship on manual, sir.”

  “Exactly, so.”

  “So?” They both asked.

  “As of this moment consider this a combat situation, a drill if you like, and let’s get the hell out of here.” The XO and Conner looked at each other, then at Mike.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you, Skipper.”

  “Yes, dead serious. If we were damaged during an attack, we’d have to run her manually, so let’s find out now how she handles, let’s go!” Grabbing his cap, Mike ran for the door with the others in tow and bounded up to the Bridge. Some of the crew and civilian dockworkers looked surprised, and ducked down, or back up as he yelled. “Captain coming through! Make a hole.”

  “Signal action station, Leftenant Fielding.” He snapped, pounding onto the Bridge.

  “Sir?” Janice asked, looking surprised.

  “You heard the Skipper, action stations, prepare to lift ship!” The OX shouted as he ran round the Bridge switching on different systems, finding that only half of them actually worked.

  “Aye-aye, sir.” Janice reached over and hit the general quarter’s alarm just as the XO hit the ‘all-stations’ key and nodded to the Captain.

  “This is the Captain, all hands and civilian personnel, prepare to lift ship, this is not a drill, I say again, this is not a drill. All civilian personnel who want, can leave immediately, or go with us, Captain, out.” There was no time to let the civilian works off, and those that were still here when he closed the hatches would go with them.

  “Engine room to Bridge!”

  “Bridge here.” The XO answered.

  “This is not a drill?” Adam sounded as if this was a joke.

  “You heard the Captain, Mr. Adam, prepare to lift ship!”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Comm, tell the Marines to block the road leading to the slip as long as possible without breaking too many regulations, then board the shuttle and met us.”

  “Aye-aye, Skipper.” Sally Goldman answered, already keying her communication set.

  Conner Blake brought the helm consult to life and started his check, just as the standby helmsman, Cindy Loftland, came pounding onto the Bridge and sat down in the second seat beside him, panting for breath.

  “You’ll have to handle the AG system on manual, Cindy.” Conner snapped as she sat down.

  “Oh Lord! I’ve only done that a couple of times in the simulator, and I wasn’t very good at it, Chief.”

  “This will be a piece of cake, all you have to do is keep the bubble centered so she’s on an even keel, got it?”

  “Yes, Chief.”

  “Good, I’ll take care of the rest, but when I say give me lift, I want it gently, evenly and just enough to get us off the ways, not put us through the flipping roof.”

  “Got it, Chief, nice and easy.”

  “Good gi...”

  “You can say it, chief, promise I won’t be offended.” She answe
red nervously, giving him a weak smile, sweating at the prospect of having to balance a 125,000 ton warship by hand.” The Chief smiled back.

  “Good girl, you’ll do.”

  “Sergeant Rice here, sir, I have a hover car coming down the road, sir.” Mike hit the key before the XO did.

  “Sergeant, this is the Captain.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Just use some delaying tactics, act dumb and look bewildered.”

  “Oh, you mean just act like a Marine then, sir.” He chuckled, and Mike had to smile, despite the situation.

  “I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Sergeant.”

  “Thank you, sir, how long do you think you’ll be needing?”

  “No sure, but long enough for me to get this ship out of here, say half an hour more or less, I hope.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Radio on a secure frequency once you are clear and you can home in on us and bring anyone we left behind.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Engine room to Bridge, fusion reactor start up sequence is off line! She won’t fire up Skipper.”

  “Damn it, Adam! Do something... I need those engines NOW!”

  “No can do, Skipper, we just have to lift on power packs and hope they have sufficient charge.”

  “Christ on a flaming crutch!”

  “I won’t be able to give you full power, sir, but she will lift.”

  “Just give us enough to get out of here, Adam.”

  “Aye-aye, sir, you’ll have it, and enough for manoeuvring speed.”

  “Release shore power and communications lines.” Mike intoned. So much for taking her into space, he needed to find somewhere to hide her. It was like a litany, with him calling out orders and hearing them repeated by his XO or someone else.

  “Ring for engines.”

  “Give me some lift, helm.”

  “Aye, sir, lift it is.”

  The ship quivered as the standby helmsman fed power to the AG system. She was as good as her word, and gave it just enough to lift the ship off the ways. The outside view showed scaffolding, tools, and miscellaneous debris crashing to the ground in a silent cascade.

  “Seal the ship and cross check all outer hatches, and release optical bollard.”

  “How does she feel, helm?”

  “We have lift, sir and no anomalies to report.”

  “All outer hatches close and secured, sir, all reporting condition green.” That was a relief, it meant, that if need be, he could take her into space, and not have to worry about air leaks, or a hatch blowing out.

  “Ask the ground crew to open the barn doors, Pete.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Secure landing sponsons.”

  “Aye, sir, securing landing sponsons.”

  Somewhere below, Mike felt more than heard the sound of hydraulic pumps, lifting and retracting the three landing sponsons into the hull. He looked around the mess that was his Bridge, shaking his head slightly. Some of the consults were open, with wires dangling out of them, and in a few places, not even a monitor. Even the battle tank was dark and lifeless, but they had power and lift, and they could see where they were going, it was enough.

  “Barn doors open, Skipper.”

  “Helm, back us out of here, very gently.”

  “Aye-aye, Skipper.”

  * * * * * *

  Sergeant Rice held up his hand as the hover car came towards him and put on his tired Marine look. The car came to a halt and a large fat man got out, immediately waving his arms.

  “Get out of my way, Sergeant!” Red faced and sweating, even in the cold. “I have to get down to that slipway down the road.” He stood on tiptoe and tried to see over the rise, but Sergeant Rice had picked the position of his roadblock with care.

  “Can’t do that, Mister, this is a restricted area.”

  “Restricted? On whose authority?”

  “Can’t tell you that, it's restricted.” Rice said with a straight face.

  “See here, I’m the Chief Inspector from the Bureau of Ship, and I demand you let me pass immediately!” He spluttered, digging his credentials out of his pocket and waving it under Rice’s nose.

  “Don’t care if you're ‘is his nibs himself, if you don’t have a pass or the password, I can’t let you pass.”

  “Pass! Password! What the blazes are you mumbling about! I don’t need any pass, or password you moron!”

  “Can’t help you there, chief, the Marine Corp don’t have any of those either.”

  “Have any of what?” The man spluttered.”

  “Mormon’s. We have a few Buddhist’s, some Jews, a couple of Moslems and more than enough atheist, that is until we get under fire, then they tend to get religion fast, but no, can’t say I’ve met any Mormons.”

  “I said moron, you stupid boot licking idiot, move that vehicle aside, or I’ll have your butt in a jail cell before you can say your name!” Rice bit his tongue, remembering the Captain’s words, all the time watching the clock in the corner of his HUD.

  “I’ve all ready told you, this is a restricted area, and unless you have a pass, or the password, I can’t let you pass.”

  The fat man stood there, looking over Rice’s shoulder towards the slipway, seeing just top of the snow covered environmental shelter. Other than that, all he could see was salt marsh and snow, but no ship, but it had to be here. His informant in London had assured him that something illegal was going on, and he meant to get to the bottom of it. In the end, he slipped and slid back to his vehicle, but not before he had the last word.

  “We’ll see about this, Sergeant!” He snapped. Reaching his vehicle, he jerked the comm unit from its hanger and keyed the switch. It didn’t take him long to get the connection he wanted, and spoke into the mike for a few moments, his face taking on a nasty grin as he sat in the car and waited.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  Any resemblance to any normal departure proceeding went right out the airlock. There wasn’t any for lifting a ship manually, and especially not out of a hanger with a ship they’d just finished building. They all felt the ships keel grate along the slipway.

  “Watch it, Cindy!”

  “Sorry, Chief, difficult to balance all six Ag zones manually.”

  “You’re doing fine, give me just a little more lift on the stern.”

  “Aye-aye, Chief.

  Cindy Loftland gently touched the keypad and watched the two monitors as the electronic ‘bubble’ came towards the center. Once there she cut back on the lift and held her breath. It steadied for a moment, then started to drift to the side. Normally the computer would have started compensating for that in a fraction of a second, but human reactions just aren’t fast enough.

  “Cindy, use your senses, feel what the ship is doing, and don’t rely so much on what the read-outs tell you.” Conner’s voice was soft, as he knew it would do go good to yell and snapping orders at her, that would only make her ever more nervous. Mike and Pete sat in their respective seat and just held their breath and watched, this was all up to Conner and Cindy.

  Either they could do it, or they couldn’t. Gradually Conner fed power to the forward manoeuvring thrusters and the ship slipped silently backward down the ways and out into the estuary. Here it bumped and slid into the snow bank on the other side, plowing a deep furrow through the spongy mass beneath.

  “Hmm, got my nice shiny new ship dirty already, Conner.”

  “Yes, sir,” he chuckled, “sorry about that, you want me to wash her off in the bay?”

  “You might just do that, we wouldn’t want to turn up on parade with a dirty keel, now would we.” That helped relieve some of the tension on the Bridge as everyone chuckled.

  Conner pushed the nose round so they pointed down the estuary and started her moving. The AG footprint depressed the water and ice below the keel and in a few placed exposed the mud flats beneath, then pushed them down as well.

  “Where to, Skipper?” Pete asked.

&nbs
p; “That’s a good point, where do we go?”

  “We need a place to hide for a few days, until we can get the operating system installed.”

 

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