Henry Gallant and the Warrior (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 3)

by H. Peter Alesso

  Gallant thought,

  I have an idea on how we can fool the Titans.

  CHAPTER 19

  Bugged

  Gallant awoke with a delicious sense of well-being, eager to start the day. He sat upright on his cot, still bathed in the satisfaction of shaking off the Warrior’s shadow. His body was invigorated, and his mind overflowed with plans. He threw his legs over the side, leaned forward, and let his momentum carry him out of bed. He splashed water on his face and washed his mouth out. Then with a light heart, he showered and donned a fresh uniform. When he was ready for breakfast, a wave of temptation hit him—he had an impulse to treat himself to something special.

  While the ship’s synthetics were sufficient to sustain life, after a few weeks they played havoc with morale. He considered supplementing his normal breakfast repast with some items of real flavor and taste. Opening his personal locker, he rifled through a small refrigerator that stored the few real foodstuffs allotted to him. They included a few dairy items and several pieces of dried meats that he intended to ration over the course of the mission. He knew that, soon enough, it would be gone, and then he would be subjected to an endless stream of artificial food. Nevertheless, he was determined to enjoy this day.

  He took out two crackers, one-tenth ounce of cheese, a thimble of jam, and a capsule of real egg concentrate—priceless commodities to someone 300 million kilometers from home. He then closed the locker, and carried his treasures to the empty wardroom where he spread the food out on the table. While he activated a heating element and cooked the egg concentrate, he pressed a button to activate the coffee dispenser. Soon he was pouring himself a steaming hot cup of synth-coffee. He took two preliminary sips and grimaced at the bitter flavor. He tasted the cheese, and despite finding it salty, he spread a healthy portion on one of his crackers and then covered the other with jam. Pleased with himself for his culinary enterprise, he wolfed the cooked egg and crackers down with several large gulps of synth-coffee. Throwing discretion to the wind, he swallowed a second cup. After a moment he muttered, “A poor substitute for planet-side cooking.” But after a moment’s reflection, he reconsidered: “Still, it’s better than the usual imitations.”

  Satisfied with his start to the day, he made a quick tour of the ship’s spaces to reassure himself that all was well aboard the Warrior.

  He left his cabin and toured the ship, ending his trek in the CIC.

  Looking over the data collection results they had produced so far, Gallant wondered, Are we ready to take on more risk?

  “I think it’s time we carry out our first communication tapping operation,” said Gallant, challenging the techs.

  “What do you have in mind, sir?”

  “Some delicate and sneaky operations.”

  The war had become more than missiles and lasers; it was eavesdropping and sabotage and anything else that could disrupt the enemy’s effort. Special operations were normally kept secret in locked drawers behind closed doors, and they were assigned to knowledgeable veterans—assignments that required steely nerves and quick reflexes. Their success was a compelling testimony to the courage and ingenuity of the clandestine agents carrying them out. Yet the exigencies of war called upon novices Gallant and Gabriel to play their first espionage roles.

  They began planning a bugging operation. They decided to tap the main communication junction box on Ganymede. Once a tap was in place, they could collect messages and military orders being transmitted to and from Titan ships around Jupiter. Since the aliens didn’t believe the humans could understand Titan communication, they made no attempt to encrypt or codify their messages. That was lucky because it meant Gallant wouldn’t have to decrypt or decode the intercepts.

  The Warrior carried special electrical bugging devices capable of attaching to and penetrating the electronic signals to record the Titans’ communications. The greatest problem was getting the Wasp close to the Titans’ communication base on the moon’s surface. When they reached the location using the Wasp, they would perform an Extravehicular Activity (EVA) and land on the planet in order to insert a tapping device on the communication junction box. They would also plant explosives to destroy the devices if they were ever discovered.

  Worry was constant on a frontline spy mission, and Gallant watched how the crew reacted to the youngest officer on board as he prepared for the dangerous mission. There were 126 highly skilled crew members on the Warrior, but there was something about Gabriel that inspired the crew to rally around him. His youthful sense of duty coupled with a good-humored, friendly disposition seemed to draw them in. This was a young man they could stand next to and be proud of as he undertook one of the most dangerous operations of the war—slipping into enemy territory and eavesdropping. It was a mission no one had ever dared undertake. No other intelligence operation had embraced so many levels of technology integration coupled with human resources on such a far-reaching mission. In silence and stealth, they would have to creep into the enemy’s most sensitive areas to conduct their operation. There was only one good way to conduct such a mission—don’t get caught.

  In the cold and dark of space, the Wasp faced hazards worse than those of traditional military men in open warfare. Of course, there was always the fear of detection inside enemy territory. The catastrophes that could befall them would mean they might never see home again. The details of their mission were closely held by the top UP admirals, so their efforts—successful or not—might never be known. The risk of it all was increased by the frantic need to have an impact on the war as quickly as possible. They could end up anonymous men in a silent service. Or they might have a vital impact on war planning if they could obtain useful intelligence of the enemy’s intentions.

  ***

  Gallant and Gabriel launched the Wasp and headed for Ganymede. Eavesdropping equipment had been crammed into the over-stuffed ship. They operated the craft deftly and found a place to land on Ganymede near what they hoped, based upon CIC’s extensive analysis of the Titans’ infrastructure, was the main communication junction box. The SIA equipment on board the Wasp would help them snatch military intelligence from electronic communications. If the mission went as planned, the Warrior would be conducting many more operations such as this.

  The cramped quarters of the Wasp’s steel shell produced fumes and odors that were hard to completely erase, though its two occupants were so intent on their jobs they hardly noticed. The recycling systems for water, oxygen, and other minerals continued nonstop. Comfort was one thing, but staying alive was the main goal, and that required them to stay quiet, stay hidden, and above all, stay alert.

  “Were we detected?” asked Gabriel as they landed the Wasp near their selected site.

  “I don’t know yet,” said Gallant.

  Once the ship touched down their stealth field collapsed, and they were no longer cloaked. Only the natural camouflage of the surrounding hills protected them.

  “Are any ships coming in this direction?” asked Gallant.

  “No, sir. Should we get closer to the junction box?”

  “Closer? We’re practically in their back pocket as it is. How much closer?” There was little room for error.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “This doesn’t feel right. There’s no place to hide here. We’re too exposed,” said Gallant. They took off and moved the Wasp to what they hoped was a better location with more cover.

  “The best we can hope for is a semi-protected environment while we’re on our operation,” said Gallant.

  The two men exited the Wasp and began walking, bouncing, and hopping in the low gravity. They wore skin-tight suits that entirely enclosed their bodies including their heads. They also had short-term oxygen capsules that allowed them to breathe for several hours.

  There was a chance this would all lead to disaster, so Gallant spent a few minutes clearing his mind. He found the communication transmission equipment where they planted the bugging device. Doubts and worries were chased awa
y before he began crawling along the outer hub of the communication junction box. Soon they collected a few transmissions as a test to see if everything was functioning normally. Gallant boldly stepped out from the shadows and planted a briefcase-sized bomb at the base of the communication junction box so only he could recover the equipment.

  Unfortunately, the bugging equipment failed. The messages were garbled and unreadable. Gallant had to remove it. There is nothing as maddening as bringing your ship millions of kilometers across space, training your crew, and working endless hours to get into a difficult and dangerous position to execute your mission, only to fail because of some inexplicable equipment malfunction.

  They returned to the Wasp with the flawed equipment and took off.

  When they were back aboard the Warrior, Roberts said, “You’ve got to be outraged to undergo a high-risk mission like this and then find faulty equipment,” as he controlled his frustrations.

  “That damn piece of junk,” said Chief Howard, not even attempting to conceal his fury. He stared at the equipment, incredulous that it could have malfunctioned so completely.

  “We’ve got to find the problem and get it corrected before we can mount another bugging operation,” Gallant said with a frown.

  “This equipment needs to be planted and retrieved after it has collected data. Then we have to repeat the process over and over again on a regular basis. It will never be a viable operation if it’s constantly breaking down. It’s crazy. We can’t be running in and out like a subway. We’re sure to get caught. You can’t chance it, sir,” Roberts concluded.

  The atmosphere of tension grated on Gallant and the CIC analysts. This entire operation was like a blind man feeling in the dark, trying to make sense of what his fingers told him.

  ***

  As the communications officer, Gabriel was directly responsible for the bugging equipment. He studied the online tech manual for two days straight until he was able to find the problem. The device had not been properly aligned and calibrated in the shipyard despite the shipyard check-off signatures the equipment carried.

  Working without rest for eight hours straight and armed with Gabriel’s findings, Chief Howard and several techs managed to implement a fix and adjusted the bugging device with a makeshift calibration tool the chief built from scratch.

  “Thanks to Mr. Gabriel,” Howard said, “we can now have confidence in the bugging devices, but we will have to make adjustments and recalibrations to every bugging device on board before we deploy them. This should have been done properly by the shipyard before we left.”

  Gallant also blamed the shipyard for not doing a thorough job, but he held his tongue.

  Later that day they repeated their excursion to Ganymede and left a functioning recording device.

  A few days later they retrieved the recorder’s data and found it had performed perfectly.

  They were finally ready to conduct regular bugging operations. It was the need for stealth more than anything that convinced them to follow their current line of operations by putting the eavesdropping equipment close to the main communication terminal.

  After several excursions they accumulated a significant amount of information about warship operations, but nothing critical had been discovered.

  Because of his successful excursions, the wardroom gave the young midshipman a nickname. They began calling him ‘Gabe’ and treated him like their own personal good luck charm. They started thinking of him as the ship’s golden boy.

  CHAPTER 20

  Revisited

  Gallant stood before McCall’s stateroom door, poised to knock, yet hesitant to do so. He sorted through his thoughts and attempted to organize his ideas. Finally, he steeled himself and rapped loudly several times.

  “Enter,” said a muffled voice from within.

  He opened the door and threw an uneasy glance inside before stepping into the sparse room. Suddenly he felt himself, not unreasonably, second-guessing his decision to interrogate an SAI agent.

  McCall was seated on the lone chair in the room. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Leaning back, she let the leather upholstered chair rest against the bulkhead while she crossed her arms and legs—presenting a distinctly frosty welcome. Nevertheless, she managed a weak smile.

  “Come in, captain.”

  “Thank you. I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said in a quiet tone as he appraised her mood. “Can you spare a few minutes?”

  McCall’s expression appeared neither hospitable nor hostile as she replied, “Of course. Please be seated.”

  Gallant sat on the only space available—the end of her bed.

  “I’m sorry to intrude upon your free time, but there are a few issues I would like to discuss with you and I thought it would be better to address them in private.”

  “Oh?” she said pleasantly enough, but her eyes revealed that she was unhappy at being placed on the defensive by Gallant’s surprise visit.

  “You’ve expressed some concern about my translation of recent Titan messages. I wanted to confer with you about them.”

  “You’re referring to several messages, that when placed together, imply a strategic operation may be underway.”

  “Exactly,” he said leaning forward.

  “That’s one possibility,” she said. Shaking her head, she added, “but I’m worried about jumping to conclusions. We’ll have to get much greater detail to confirm it.”

  Now that he had committed himself, Gallant spoke rapidly, “I think there is a thread within the Titan orders that show the intent to move the entire armada deep into the asteroid belt in preparation for a major action.”

  “Ah, well, we saw them travel into the belt. That’s odd, but not definitive.”

  Struggling mightily to regain the initiative, she said, “My data analysis of your recent message translations is disturbing. I wish to relay a more generic view of the information to Fleet Headquarters,” exposing her veiled objective.

  “I disagree,” said Gallant testing her resolve.

  His comment was met with a cold reception.

  She demanded, “Disagree? Why?” It was as if she stood on a precipice deciding where to step.

  “We must protect our ability to spy on the Titans unobserved.” Gallant paused before adding, “They have been intercepting and reading our communication for decades that’s why we encrypt our secret messages. They don’t bother with encryption because they believe we can’t understand their communications. We must safeguard this fact until we have definitive information that will dramatically change the war, otherwise, once they realize we can read their messages they will begin encrypting everything, and our taps will be useless.”

  She said with emphasis, “But these messages may show a potential gathering point for a major operation, some general comments would be appreciated.”

  “We have not uncovered the details of this strategic military operation,” he said. He would have liked to temporize, but it was already too late for such half measures. “We must wait until we get more specific data by spying on the Saturn headquarters.”

  Her sour face revealed her contrast opinion.

  “Besides,” he added, “we’ve learned a great deal about their society and philosophy.”

  “Really? You think we’ve achieved a significant understanding about the motivations of these creatures?” her tone was suspicious and cautious. She was distracted from her original train of thought and sounded like her sense of the situation was uncertain.

  “Possibly,” he gestured with a nod.

  “I am uncertain how you were interpreting the meaning of certain words and phrases that lead you to these conclusions.”

  Enthusiasm appeared on Gallant’s face as he said, “The autistic nature of the Titans makes their social skills limited. Understanding these limitations give us an opportunity to pursue political options—to consider the possibility of negotiating a settlement with this enemy.”

  She didn’t respond.
Her stunned look said more than words ever could. Finally, she said, “I can’t help but feel you’re exceeding your authority by speculating on this matter.”

  Gallant could tell he would get no further on this point with her, so he switched subjects. “There are several other points that you may also find troubling.”

  “Please go on. I can hardly wait to hear.”

  Gallant did not answer immediately but marshaled his thoughts in preparation for what he assumed would be a prolonged and difficult discussion. He reordered his ideas to meet the belligerent mood McCall displayed.

  “It’s an important matter,” he said, “You told me in our previous discussions that the capacity to radically outperform the best human minds is called super-intelligence and that you were responsible for exploring this concept under the code name ENIGMA.”

  “Go on.”

  “There were several possibilities you were examining as emerging super-intelligence—natural mutation, genetic engineering, AI, and now savants.”

  She nodded and said, “As far as I can discern, emergence intelligence can represents a threat.”

  Gallant said, “You’ve considered AI and savants as mortal enemies in the past. You’ve never once explored the possibility of cohabitation with these life forms.”

  That was for her, a startling suggestion. A dark shadow fell across her face.

  “Super-intelligence would vastly outperform human brains in creativity, social skills, and wisdom. Unleashing it may be humanity's legacy since once it is achieved, super-intelligence could self-improve and surpass itself.”

  “We started the twenty-first century with humans adding significant cognitive and physical enhancements through genetics, but there was a dramatic drop in beneficial mutations among genetically altered population. That’s one reason you attracted such consternation.”

  Gallant frowned. He swallowed the realization that it was possible he would never be able to overcome that prejudice.