The Hope Island Chronicles Boxed Set

by PJ Strebor

  As the boat lifted off on a reciprocal course, Nathan stepped into the EVA rig, strapped in and snapped the controls into place. Although designed for use in a vacuum environment, the boat’s senior engineer had a few days to modify it for atmospheric flight.

  Activating the anti gravs he took her up a thousand meters and surveyed the lay of the land. Saint Joan’s vast prairies stretched across the flat landscape to the horizon, a dirty green savannah teeming with life. There off in the far distance a wide valley cut a green and orange path through the flat expanse.

  At the valley’s opening, Nathan dropped to the deck. He steered the jury rigged transport through a broad valley, flanked by impressively rugged ranges. A giant eagle swooped close, curious, but not aggressive. An ear shattering squawk before it flew away. Nathan could only hope the majestic bird wasn’t warning him of a territorial infringement.

  He continued on toward a base about which he knew so little.

  CHAPTER 12

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: Deception, in orbit above Saint Joan.

  Status: Alert condition two.

  Max did a systems check. Damn, Nathan’s got guts. I hope he doesn’t get himself killed. Nathan had pushed, gently, to encourage Max to open up about the loss of his wife and three kids in a headhunter attack. Nathan had lost his entire bloodline. Despite Nathan’s resistance he couldn’t help but like and even admire him. To lose everyone at such a young age must have been incomprehensible. To do so and turn out to be the man he had become, that was the true miracle.

  Behind him the hatch to the Commander’s lair opened.

  “Report,” the Commander said.

  “Nathan is confirmed on the surface,” Stella said. “He should be at the base within the hour.”

  An unaccustomed pause from the Commander. “Load the torpedo tube.”

  Another pause. “Commander?”

  “Helm, prepare to target the base.”

  Max turned to face him. “Commander?”

  “Am I speaking in tongues, people?”

  “You gave Nathan twelve hours,” Max said.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Commander,” Stella said, “surely twelve hours isn’t too much to –”

  “What is our mission? Huh? To deny the enemy technology that could swing the balance of power. Yes?”

  “Max, after this is done, you can take the landing boat down and pick him up. If he isn’t too close to the blast zone.”

  Silence lingered.

  “Stella?” Stern, uncompromising.

  “Very well.” Remorse, acceptance. “Loading tube with fifty megatonne nuke.”

  “Helm, put us over that base.” An uncomfortable pause. “Max?”

  “Aye-aye, Commander.” What a prick.

  Max adjusted the controls to reposition the boat. The boat moved but not by his command. “What the hell?”

  The boat came about on a heading toward the mine field. Max hit every override control but the boat ignored him.

  “SMC,” Max said, “disengage from current course.”

  “Authorization code required,” the computer replied.

  Authorization code? For a moment Max felt only bafflement. Then he remembered who’d been the last person to sit at the helm. Nathan hinted that the commander had given him a very high security clearance.

  “Max, what the hell are you doing,” the Commander shouted.

  You cunning bastard. Max smothered his smile as he turned to face the Commander.

  “I’m not doing a damn thing, Commander.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: Planet Saint Joan, Pruessen space, the quarantine zone.

  It took Nathan just over an hour to breach the rise in the flat landscape. On the other side the base loomed. He dropped immediately to the ground, unstrapped and discarded the EVA rig. With the comfortable breeze gone the heat struck him. Hot he could handle but the humidity soaked his clothes within minutes.

  The base looked old, maybe dating back to before the last war. Not large but of course that could mean that the bulk of it had been constructed underground. Nathan ducked behind a tall stand of reeds as a figure rounded the building’s corner.

  Intell said that guards patrolled the outside of the base. An hour on an hour off. Nathan still found it hard to believe. Outside guards, on a plague world? Someone at this base had to have a serious security fetish. Another guard approached from the opposite direction. Both were clad in dark blue V suits with light armor. Nathan followed their actions with his monocular. They met and conferred before stepping to a keypad by the hatch. Nathan zoomed in closer and read the four digit code as one of them punched it in. The code having been lodged, the hatch slid open. Nathan sprinted the short distance and made it to the hatch in time to peer through the clear round port hole and into the bay. The guards appeared to be in a vacuum chamber, their bodies suspended from tethers. A few seconds of vacuum exposure ended, atmosphere returned and they removed their helmets. They disappeared from the chamber through a side hatch. Two more replaced them.

  Back behind cover Nathan watched as two new guards emerged. One went right, the other left. He checked his timepiece. Ten hours forty seven minutes remained before zero hour.

  Sprinting to the hatch Nathan punched in the code. After the hatch slid aside he ducked inside and tried to open the exit hatch. The handle didn’t budge. Red lights flashed as the computer prepared to activate the vacuum chamber. That would kill him. He pulled at the handle frantically but it wouldn’t budge. You’re on a Pruessen base, dummy. Turning the handle in the opposite direction opened the hatch. Quickly stepping inside he had just sealed the hatch when the vacuum chamber engaged. He wiped sweat from his face with the sleeve of his light shirt.

  “Now what?” he whispered. Reconnoiter.

  Stepping through another hatch, he checked the room. No sensor pickups. Good.

  Nathan considered his situation for a few minutes. Can I just stroll around the base? Can I pass for part of the base personnel? What’s my role? How many people are on the base? If there were only a few people, how do I explain my presence? Tick tock, Telford. He didn’t want to do anything stupid but he couldn’t sit in the room doing nothing. Time to check things out. He considered his appearance. Loose white pants with a lightweight shirt. Rummaging around, he found a clean towel and hung it loosely around his neck. A snigger slipped out. Stop it. He couldn’t help it. It came as his usual response to a highly stressful situation. He took a deep breath.

  Opening a hatch, he stepped into a corridor. No challenge was made. His pulse rate steadied. He jogged to the right, maintaining a steady pace. As he passed closed hatches he took note of the stenciled signs on each one. Infirmary, storage, admin, senior mess, junior mess, head. he really wanted to see a sign that said: Athenian prisoners held here. Still no sensor pickups.

  The corridor hit a T-junction and Nathan turned right. Two uniformed personnel stared at him as he approached, their eyes curious. As he jogged by he grinned and said, “Good morning,” and kept going. Their answering ‘good mornings’ put his mind at ease.

  He came to a flight of stairs and followed them down. Prisoners were, after all, traditionally held in deep, smelly dungeons. That’s what all the novels said. He chuckled at the thought. Stop it.

  The extensive lower level contained only storage, maintenance and machine areas. After jogging around the entire basement area he took another flight of stairs up. Another corridor, another uniform. He nodded as he passed the officer.

  “You there,” the officer yelled, “stop.”

  Nathan continued on for a few steps then casually looked over his shoulder.

  “You,” the officer repeated, “stop, and come here.”

  Nathan adopted a mask of annoyance. He jogged up to the officer, continuing to run on the spot.

  “Yeah,” he said, “what?”
/>   “I haven’t seen you before. Who are you?”

  Nathan deepened his irritation. “I haven’t seen you before. So who the fuck are you?”

  A haughty look, offended, his chin rose. “I am Commander Schmidt, military commander of this facility.”

  “What a coincidence. My name is also Schmidt. Doctor Hans Schmidt. And I’ve got work to get back to. So I’ll see you around.”

  He jogged away subduing a chuckle. More doors, more signs. One stood out. Armory. He would need a security key to access it. Where the hell are they keeping the prisoners?

  Nathan stopped and mopped his sweaty face. Intell said this was a research facility. Another group of egg heads trying to find a cure for the plague. So, there’s a military presence but it’s not designed as a military base. The Pruessens wanted to examine the captured monitor and needed a place where they could work without being disturbed. A plague planet certainly fit the bill. So, if I was a military officer, attached to a civilian base, where would I keep prisoners? He’d seen part of the base but had, so far, passed no doors with guards posted outside.

  The question in his mind kept repeating. How long can I get away with this charade? Standing before the hatch to the senior mess, he took a deep breath. Hopefully at this time of the morning there would be few, if any people present. Nathan pressed the admit button and stepped inside. He breathed a sigh of relief. No one else here. The fruit juice dispenser caught his eye.

  He had just poured his third cup of fresh orange juice when the hatch opened. A man, around Nathan’s age stepped inside and approached. Nathan smiled, nodded.

  “Good morning,” the stranger said.

  “Mornin’.”

  Like Nathan his clothes were sweat-soaked. He gulped the first cup of juice and sipped at the second.

  “Ah, that’s better. Got to keep hydrated, right?”

  Nathan chuckled. “Yep.”

  “I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”

  “I don’t know.” Nathan smiled. “Who are you?

  Careful.

  “Ha, fair point. Lance Neubert. Biology department.” He held out his hand.

  Nathan shook the hand of the Pruessen, forcing a smile.

  “Hans Schmidt, tech first class.”

  “Schmidt? Any relation to –”

  “No, thank god.” They both chuckled. “It’s a pretty common name, right?”

  “Yeah, right. So Hans, do you like to work out?”

  “When I’m not expected to do four people’s work in half the time, I love it.”

  “Ha, I know what you mean. Probably why I haven’t seen you around.”

  “Yeah.” Nathan refilled his cup. What can I get out of this square head? “Been here weeks and I have little idea of the layout.”

  “Ah, you’re a newbie. Came in on the Cormorant last month, I bet.”

  “Damn, was that a month ago?” Nathan shook his head.

  “Yeah. She’s back tomorrow. Just as well since we’re getting low on water.”

  “I just hope she’s got the service parts I ordered,” Nathan lied. “It’s driving me mad not being able to complete my work. Not that this place isn’t driving me a little stir-crazy anyway.”

  “Yeah, it can get to you after a while,” the Pruessen said. “Hey, if you haven’t seen much of the base I could show you the lay of the land. I’ve got an hour spare.”

  “Sure, why not.”

  Forty minutes later Nathan had a good idea of the base’s layout. Yet at no time had he seen any sign of Athenian prisoners. Back on the same level where they’d started he noticed a flight of stairs leading up. He moved toward them.

  “That’s military up there. You know quarters, communications and security. No civilians are allowed up there.”

  Security?

  “Damn silly idea if you ask me. But, you know, no one ever does.”

  “I hear you. So Hans, you think you can find your way around here now?”

  “Sure, Lance, and thanks for the tour.”

  “No worries. Maybe I’ll catch you around in another month or so?”

  They both laughed. “Yeah, you can never tell.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: One au from Saint Joan.

  Status: Deception, locked into a circular holding pattern. Alert condition two.

  “Well?” the commander grumbled.

  Jane looked up from her computer screen irritation eating at her. “I’m locked out. I can’t get in until the program runs its course.”

  “You’re my computer expert, Jane, I don’t want to hear can’t.”

  “Commander, if this was a reprogramming input I could probably work around it. But this is so simple it’s complicated.”

  “Is that supposed to make sense to me?”

  Jane shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “Put it this way. Reprogramming I can work around. But this is too simple. A timer, commander, just a simple timer. But it’s locked in at a level I cannot access. I should be able to but for some reason I can’t.”

  “That’s not good enough, Jane,” the Commander said. “We are vulnerable. I want control of my boat back and I want it now.”

  Jane rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been working on this for three hours and I’m no closer to breaking this code as I was at the start. I know what’s been done and how to fix it, but without an access code …” She shrugged.

  “Can’t you break the code?” The Commander looked to be having uncommon difficulty controlling his temper.

  “Sure, if I had another mainframe to work off and a month to run code breaking algorithms. I have neither.” Spotiswood sighed and shook his head. “And before you tell me to find a solution, do the impossible, make a miracle out of thin air, don’t. Sir. I’ve tried all my tricks and nothing works against a program with twelve billion possible combination codes. Sorry.”

  “You’ll be far more than sorry if an enemy warship turns up and we can’t even make a run for it.”

  He walked off in a huff muttering under his breath. Jane thought she caught the words ‘fucking boat jockey.’ Of course, she couldn’t be sure.

  CHAPTER 15

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: Planet Saint Joan. Preussen Imperial Space.

  Status: Intell collection – ongoing.

  Nathan continued to be astounded at the lack of security on the base. A facility which had guards patrolling outside, on a plague planet, but whose internal security was practically non-existent. If this were a military base he wouldn’t have lasted minutes, let alone hours. He could only hope that his luck held. If not he would stand little chance of rescuing Moe and the crew of Adroit.

  After considering his options, he devised the simplest plan he could think of. The upper levels were military. They would have access codes to all hatches and probably be monitored with sensors. Charging into the lion’s den would do nothing except get him killed. He checked the time. Eight hours forty-four minutes till the base disappeared from the face of Saint Joan. Tick tock, tick tock. Shut up.

  Nathan continued to jog up and down the corridor leading to the upstairs facilities. A uniformed officer walked by. No, an officer would attract too much attention. He poked his head into the senior mess. The smell of food preparation struck his nose. The local time on the wall mounted timepiece read 1152 hours. Midday mess? Now, how to cut one from the herd? Just before midday a rumble of feet on the stairway signaled that hungry men were on their way.

  The men, all enlisted personnel, sauntered to the junior mess. A petty officer, about Nathan’s height, build and age follow a minute later. Nathan continued to play the part of the civvy jogger and noted the name on the square head’s pocket. Vogel.

  He stood before him. “Hey, sarge, I think I need to report something.”

  “It’s Petty Officer and if you want to report something, then report it to someone else. I’m hungr
y.”

  “All right, sarge. And when they ask me why I didn’t report it sooner,” he glanced at his nametag, “I’ll give them your name.” He turned his back on the annoyed NCO.

  A heavy sigh. “Hold up. So what do you need to report.”

  “It might be nothing. You’re the military so you tell me.” He led the Pruessen down the corridor and around the corner, opened a hatch and stepped inside. ‘Sarge’ followed.

  Nathan had checked out the storage area earlier. “Over here,” he said, pointing to a storage locker.

  “What? All I see is a bunch of –”

  Nathan drove the heel of his fist into the back of the Pruessen’s neck. Enough to incapacitate but not to kill. With the petty officer bound and gagged with industrial strength tape and stored inside a locker, Nathan moved on. Clad in the Pruessen naval uniform, and with a security key tag in hand, he left the storage room and walked briskly to the stairs.

  Although the Pruessen had the same height, build and hair color as Nathan, he kept his head lowered in case the area was monitored.

  The upper levels, as he observed from outside, were smaller than the lower. He found nothing of interest on the first level and moved onto the next. This one caught his interest. Security, the name on the hatch said. The hatch responded to his computer access key. Lunchtime, not many personnel around. Nathan wandered through the area searching for the lost Athenians. To his left a sealed hatch. He tried his access key. It beeped negative.

  A body swung from around a nearby corner. A big man, mid-thirties, solid. He slowed his pace, his eyes curious. Nathan smiled. “How’s it going, chief?’

  “Yeah, all right.” The chief petty officer studied his face. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  “Just looking around, you know,” Nathan said. “I’ve been stuck on this rock for a month and this is the first time they’ve given me time off.”

  “Name, rank and position.”

  “Schmidt, senior tech, communication and maintenance.”