Virtual

by S A Pavli

  Virtual

  Virtual

  Copyright © 2012 by S.A.Pavli

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of S.A.Pavli except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  ISBN-13: 978-1507885345

  S.A.Pavli (2012)

  Edition 3 March 2016

  Authors Note

  I’d like to thank my readers for their constructive comments, good or bad. It gives me pleasure if someone enjoys my book, and it helps me to improve when they criticise.

  Best Regards

  S.A.Pavli

  Chapter 1

  Mark admired the view through the cockpit windows. The silver wheel that was the Cyclops space station filled the windows with brilliant reflected light. Behind the Space Station, and providing a spectacular backdrop, loomed the vast globe of the planet Adelphi; blue, white and gold hues contrasting with the starry blackness of the void. Around him, an array of screens, lights, indicators, buttons and humming equipment formed the familiar womb that was the flight deck of the starship Bounty Hunter.

  “Hello Bounty Hunter this is Customs and Border Control. You are cleared for disembarkation.” The metallic voice from the speaker had a heavy accent, one that Mark had never heard before.

  “Thanks Customs. This is Captain Mark Alexander. How do I get flight clearance for my shuttle?” he asked.

  “Contact Air Traffic Control, channel fifteen,” replied the Customs man.

  The Bounty Hunter had arrived in orbit around Adelphi just a few hours previously, and had already been visited by a relaxed and amiable customs official. This was confirmation that they were clear to either fly down to the planet, or disembark to the Cyclops space station. Mark thanked him and leant back in his seat, a distracted expression on his face. He clicked a button on his consol and text scrolled down the screen:

  Captain Alexander.

  I require a fast starship to transport a number of individuals to a destination which I cannot at present reveal. You will be paid on a pro rata basis, fifty thousand credits per day. The money is deposited with my solicitors, name and address attached; please contact them to confirm the security of our funds. The destination is three thousand light years from the planet Adelphi and you will be required to transport the expedition there and back, with an indeterminate period at our destination. We are a private exploration team and strict secrecy is required on your part regarding the nature and destination of this charter. There must be no other passengers. You may contact me via my solicitors. Please confirm within the next three days if you can accept the commission.

  Geremy Phillip Carstairs

  Comm: GPC01 New Athens, Adelphi

  He had already confirmed acceptance of the commission. The money was too good to turn down and his preliminary enquiries regarding Geremy Phillip Carstairs had revealed that he was financially sound, but he was struck again by it’s secrecy and vagueness. Destination unknown, number of individuals unknown. And who was this Geremy Phillip Carstairs who could afford to blow a couple of million credits on the exploration of an unknown planet?

  “Alden, contact Air Traffic Control on channel fifteen and get us a flight plan for the capital city, er...New Athens.”

  “Yes Mark. When are you going?” The voice of his ship’s computer was smooth and mellow. When it came to choosing a ‘personality’ for his ship’s computer, Mark had opted for the ‘English Butler’ in the belief that he would have a polite and obedient servant who would respond obligingly to his every whim. Instead, Alden was acerbic and critical. He was occasionally tempted to change the personality program, but over time, he and Alden had developed a cantankerous mutual respect that seemed to suit them both.

  “Now is as good a time as any. Let’s go see what New Athens has to offer. I seem to remember that the original Athens was a pretty swinging city.”

  “It still is, as far as I know,” said Alden.

  “Mmm, long time since I’ve been to Earth,” said Mark. “Too crowded. I like room to move.”

  “You like room to be able to make a break for it when things get too hot,” said Alden.

  “Now Alden, you know I always operate within the law,” said Mark severely.

  “Of course, I would not allow you to do otherwise,” said Alden smugly.

  If only you knew he thought, but he kept the thought to himself. His life was a constant battle to avoid Alden’s officious scrutiny. Economic survival for a one ship operation sometimes made it necessary not to be too inquisitive about the customer’s operation or exactly what freight they were carrying. Customs control on the main freight routes would of course ensure that no inter-planetary laws were being broken. But there were many backwater settlements on three planets who wanted to save money and avoid official scrutiny. Mark’s main concern after that was whether the customer’s money was good.

  “Where is our Chief Engineer?” he asked.

  “In the electronics shop servicing the EE robot,” replied Alden.

  “What is wrong with the External Examination robot?” asked Mark.

  “It is a routine service I believe,” replied Alden.

  “Get her on the com,” said Mark. “Jo, disentangle yourself from that robot. We are taking a trip.” The com screen showed a picture of a rear end stuck in the air, with its owners head buried in the internals of a complex machine. The rear end being addressed righted itself and a slim dark eyed face appeared out of the mass of electronics. It was the not unattractive face of a young woman, tousle haired and smudged with grease.

  “I’ve got this thing in bits Captain,” she protested.

  “We won’t be needing it for a bit Jo. Some R’n’R wont come amiss hey?”

  “You don’t have to persuade me. What about Andy?” she replied.

  “Checking out the Small Fry,” he replied. “Get your bag packed and let’s check out what Adelphi has to offer.”

  “Yes sir, on my way!”

  Mark climbed out of the Captain’s chair and made his way to the lift situated in the dead centre of the starship. The Bounty Hunter was one of the latest Super Warp ships to be built. Anyone from the twentieth century, seven hundred years in the past, would have immediately recognised the ship as a ‘flying saucer’. Mark had read with amusement about the fevered imagination of that era, when aliens and their flying machines were apparently routinely spotted in the Earth’s skies.

  Ironic that flying saucers had become a reality he thought. But there were no aliens, only humans inside. After seven hundred years of Space exploration, humans had settled on more than twenty planets in the galaxy. But no other intelligent life had been found. Of course, most of the galaxy’s millions of stars were still unexplored, so there was still hope. It could be us that finds them! Marc smiled at the thought.

  The Bounty Hunter was a huge circular disc, one hundred metres in diameter. The centre section, eighty metres in diameter, was the habitable part, and contained all the power, electronics, supplies and cargo holds. The outer part consisted of two huge circular doughnuts. One was the Hyperspace Drive, the other was the Artificial Gravity generator. Both doughnuts worked on similar principles, gravity being just one dimension of Hyperspace..

  Two floors down was the shuttle bay, where the Small Fry was housed. The Small Fry also had an AG generator, a smaller version of the one on the Mother ship. She was a saucer shaped craft, just ten metres in diameter, which was used as a planetary shuttle. There was of course no reason why the Bounty Hunter could not land, but most airports were not very keen to accommodate ships of that size. The Small Fry was aptly named and ideal for th
e task of ferrying passengers to and from planetary orbit.

  Mark exited the lift in the shuttle bay. The Small Fry was housed in a circular bay in the base of the Boutny Hunter, and he could see the open hatch on its top surface. He walked down the ramp and into the ship’s main cabin. The Bridge or Flight Deck was a small cabin situated in the centre and at the apex, and was accessed by a short ladder from the main cabin. Inside the Flight Deck Andy Baross was concentrating on the main screen, muttering quietly into a microphone.

  “Ready to go Andy?” enquired Mark, taking the pilot’s seat.

  “Fifteen minutes to charge capacitors and bring the AG up to temp,” replied the Systems Engineer. He was a burly, middle aged individual with craggy almost intimidating features which were transformed when he smiled.

  Andy and Josephine Baross were that very unusual thing, a married couple. Mark had engaged them for the previous trip of the Bounty Hunter, a freight run of heavy machinery to a mining planet. Mark had liked them both immediately. He had been amazed to discover that they were not just partners, but had been married in a real church, and had the documents to prove it. Andy and Jo had decided to see the galaxy before settling down to have a family. But, they had been seized by the wanderlust, and the years had rolled by. The chances of returning to their little corner of Europe was becoming more and more remote as time passed.

  “Where’s that wife of mine?” asked Andy.

  “On her way,” said Mark. “No doubt struggling to decide what to pack.”

  “Yeah, what is it with girls and packing?”

  “Hey, you wouldn’t want her to turn up in her overalls?”

  “Does it for me,” grinned Andy. “She’s beautiful whatever she wears.”

  Mark smiled and began the pilot’s checkout, working with a secondary computer. The principle of independent checking using a separate set of sensors, instruments and computers was an established and essential safety discipline, albeit a tedious one.

  “Tell me about this job then Cap’n,” said Andy, his attention only partly on his instruments. Mark clicked a button on the computer terminal to display the message again.

  “That’s about it,” he said. “Now you know as much as I do.” Andy grunted as he read the message.

  “Mister Geremy Phillip Carstairs. Never heard of him, but he sounds grand.”

  “I asked Alden to do some snooping,” said Mark. “He’s good at that,” he added, giving a smirk in the direction of the nearest camera lens. If Alden picked up on his sarcasm, he ignored it. Andy looked at him enquiringly. “He is one of these obscure money men; you know, the type that owns a whole bunch of companies but remains largely invisible to the media.” Mark went on. “The Adelphians are very strict about giving access to personal information. Short of hiring a detective, there is no way we can get the dirt on this guy,” said Mark. “And of course, Alden will only use the legal channels. Just in case he gets his little pinkies grubby.”

  “Are you sure his money’s good?” asked Andy.

  “We’ve contacted his lawyers. They have sent us a Promissory Note from the Adelphi First National. Cross checks with the Bank of Adelphi. We get each day’s money paid into our account , starting with today.”

  “Sounds solid,” said Andy.

  “As a rock,” agreed Mark. The two men continued to work their way through the checkout procedure while the ship’s fusion reactor charged the AG Capacitors the AG core came up to working temperature. The fifteen minutes were up, and the ship was ready to go, but there was still no sign of Josephine.

  “Trust a woman to keep you waiting,” said Andy, stretching his arms and leaning back in his seat.

  “You are just full of old fashioned sexist philosophy,” said Mark with a chuckle.

  “Our little corner of Europe was very… um …traditional,” said Andy.

  “Where else in the known universe do people still get married?” asked Mark.

  “You’d be surprised,” said Andy. “Religion still hangs on in many remote corners of the Earth and its colonies.” Mark grunted with disgust.

  “As if two thousand years of religious conflict were not enough,” he said.

  “Well….,” drawled Andy. “It’s pretty harmless now.”

  “Ah…, no offence Andy,” said Mark, suddenly realising that he may have insulted the other man’s culture. “I am sure your religion was not responsible for any wars or massacres.”

  “No offence taken Cap’n. Actually, if you go back far enough, every religion has its shameful periods.” said Andy.

  “Ah well…it was all a very long time ago,” said Mark. “Alden, get me Jo. Josephine, where are you girl?”

  “Just finished packing Captain. Be with you in a minute.”

  “I bet you never thought to pack a suitcase?” said Andy to his Captain.

  “I have a bag permanently packed,” said Mark. “You never know when it may be needed.”

  Chapter 2

  The flight down to the planet was interesting, as always when landing on a new planet. Through the windows of the shuttle, the landscape took shape beneath them, vague blues and browns resolving into sea and land, trees and buildings. They approached the outskirts of New Athens, and were then directed by the city’s Traffic Control into their correct lane.

  It was early morning, and beneath them the city was preparing itself for another working day. But it was still early, and the traffic lanes beneath them were still only sparsely populated with speeding hover cars. These small AG powered personal vehicles were restricted in height and speed by the Traffic Control Mainframe Computer, which managed their complete journey. Small Fry’s own computer was also under the control of the TCM, strictly following its own Flight Plan.

  Ahead of them loomed the New Athens Metropolis Tower Hotel, their destination and the venue for their meeting with their client. The Small Fry’s computer slowed the craft and gently manoeuvred it over the roof landing pad. It was huge, as large as two football pitches and currently crammed with small flyers. The Small Fry, as an orbital vehicle, was too large to remain there. It would drop them off, and then fly off to park itself at the airport, where there was ample room.

  Contrary to her prejudiced male colleagues viewpoints, Josephine Baross had made a prompt appearance wearing a very fetching one piece outfit. She now led the way down the ramp, carrying a small holdall, with Andy behind her. The Captain was last off.

  “Alden, secure the Small Fry at the airport and keep in contact via channel five,” he said.

  “Confirm, channel five,” replied Alden.

  Mark followed his colleagues down the ramp and the airlock doors hissed shut behind him. Mark switched on the tiny comm set attached to his belt. It would keep him in direct communication with Alden, via his surgically implanted earphone and throat microphone. The air wafted strange odours at them, cinnamon and musk, seaweed and ozone. Strange but not unpleasant. The morning was cool, but the sun peeking above the neighbouring skyscraper had a warmth that promised a sultry day. They made their way to the roof entrance, which led into the hotel lobby, spacious and cool, humming air conditioning reminiscent of a starship interior. Pale blue, gold and grey predominated, the metal glass and plastic contrasting with the splashes of green and purple from strategically placed alien foliage .

  “Feels more like a starship then a real one,” muttered Andy.

  “Perhaps they want to make us feel at home,” said Josephine. They made their way to the steel and glass edifice that served as a reception desk. Behind it, a couple of individuals, one male and one female were engrossed at their computer screens, with their backs to the lobby. The female stood up and came to the counter as they approached.

  “Welcome to the New Athens Metropolis,” she said politely.

  “We are the Alexander party,” said Mark. “We’d like to check in.” She pressed a few buttons on the computer for a few moments, looking increasingly puzzled.

  “I’m sorry, we do not have a Alexander party
booked in,” she said. “Are you sure that was the name used?”

  “That’s the name I’ve had since as far back as I can remember. Captain Mark Alexander,” said Mark, giving her his most irresistible grin. She seemed unimpressed.

  “Did you make the booking?” she asked.

  “Ah no, it was made by Mister Geremy Carstairs. With a ‘G’,” said Mark.

  “Oh, Mister Carstairs party. Why didn’t you say so? Of course sir, we have a Penthouse suite of rooms for you. Seven double rooms.” The three looked at each other with puzzled expressions.

  “Well, I think two rooms will be enough for us,” replied Mark.

  “Yes sir. Mister Carstairs and his party arrived last night and took the other five. These are your two.” She smiled and batted her eyelids, holding out two silver cards.

  “So now we know how many of them there are,” muttered Mark to Andy, taking the keys off the girl and handing one to Andy.

  “I have a message for you from Mister Carstairs,” said the receptionist. “I’ll text you it now mister Alexander. I have your number.” She pressed a key on the computer and Mark’s comms beeped. “Your rooms are one floor down, take the elevator over there.” The girl pointed down the hall towards a polished chrome door. “Numbers 1012 and 1013,” she added.

  “Thank you….er…,” Mark looked pointedly at her name tag. “…Joyce? What an unusual name. Not much used these days.”

  “My family has Anglo Saxon roots,” she said. “A hangover from our past. I hate it actually.” The girl clasped her hands together and leant on the counter, smiling as she looked Mark up and down.

  “We are new to … er…New Athens,” said Mark. “Where would be a good place for a night out?”

  Andy looked at Jo and rolled his eyes.

  “We’l see you a little later Mark,” he said, putting his arm around his wife’s waist and guiding her towards the door.