“WHAT! We don’t know what would happen if you set that thing loose on a body the size of a planet! You could destroy this whole sector of the galaxy!” said the president.
“I don’t see that we really have any choice, Mr. President. The Jerrollites have told us they intend to destroy our planet. We have no way to stop this from occurring. What I propose is that we use the generator to hold their world hostage, sort of. We wouldn’t have to use it unless they refused to call off their attack. At least then we would have a bargaining chip.”
Mark spoke up. “General, this is really a moot point anyway. We don’t have any type of ship that could possibly get there in time to prevent the attack.”
The twinkle came back into the general’s eye. “Oh, but that is where you’re wrong, my boy. Not only do we have the technology to build such a ship, but it already exists in prototype form. Hyperspace drives were under development a long time before the Jerrollites got here. Just before the attack, I received a report informing me that the engine was complete and lacked only trial runs, and a pilot crazy enough to fly it!” Matheson said, a wry grin on his face. “A TAC-WING fighter has already been fitted with the new engine and is ready to go.”
Mark’s mind began to play out various scenarios, each one giving him a renewed hope that they just might be able to pull this off. “Just how fast is this ship, anyway?”
“It could reach the Jerrollite home world in less than three hours,” said Matheson.
“WHAT! How come we haven’t used this before now?” asked Mark.
The president responded. “The ship was completed just before the attack. There was no time to outfit our ships with the new engine, and only the single prototype exists. If it’s destroyed, the technology will be lost. All the plans, as well as the original designer, were destroyed during the attack.”
“I see. Is the prototype operational?” asked Mark.
“Yes, it is. We can have it on board and ready to go in as little as thirty minutes. Are you willing to fly it?” said Matheson.
With no hesitation whatsoever, Mark replied. “Yes.”
“Very well. General Matheson, you may proceed with my full authorization to do whatever you must in order to defend this planet. Keep me informed. Good luck, Mark. Out.”
“Well, I guess we had better get busy,” said Matheson. As the general outlined his plan, the kamikaze nature of this mission hit home.
“I don’t have a very good chance of getting back, do I?” Mark asked.
“In all honesty, I can’t say. It depends on how close you have to get to their planet. All I can say for sure is that this is our only shot. If it fails, Earth will fall.”
Mark considered the alternative. He would rather go down fighting than just sit passively by, waiting to be destroyed. Stiffening his back, he responded. “I’m ready, General.”
“Excellent. I knew I could count on you, Mark.” The general placed his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “We still have a lot of preparations to make before you can depart, so the sooner we get started, the better.” The ship’s intercom sounded as they were preparing to leave the room.
“Sir, the new ship has just arrived in Bay Twelve.”
“Thank you,” said the general. Turning to Mark, he made an after you motion with his hand as they both left the planning room, heading for Bay Twelve.
CHAPTER 23
As the two men entered Bay Twelve, crews were swarming all over the new TAC-WING that had just arrived. Its basic shape was much the same as before, with the curious inclusion of a small, bubble-shaped extension on the underside of the nose.
“That’s an odd-looking modification,” said Mark.
“That, my boy, is the hyperspace field generator. When that baby kicks in, you’ll be goin’ faster than a teenager with a new hot rod! It generates a field around the ship that in effect creates a tunnel that you go through to get from Point A to Point B. Pretty weird effect, from what I hear.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” Mark said, running his hands over the curves of the ship, admiring its simplicity and deadly nature. The fate of the human race rested on this little ship performing well.
“This thing has been through the simulator thousands of times, Mark. Everything checks out. Anyway, if anything goes wrong, you won’t ever know it,” said Matheson.
“What do you mean by that?” Mark asked, nervous.
“Well, the containment field for the hyperspace field is not one hundred percent effective, so we had to build an auxiliary shield into the armor surrounding the cockpit. Because of the extra shielding, you’ll be flying blind.”
“What!? Oh my god. You mean I gotta fly this thing without being able to see where I’m going?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Along with the new shielding, we installed a tracking computer, so you will have a fairly realistic representation of your surroundings on your screen. Just like flying in the simulator back home!” Matheson clapped Mark on the back. Attempting to calm Mark’s nerves, he said, “Maybe you could just use the Force…” Mark scowled at him through slit eyes.
“Why don’t you hop in, and I’ll show you the new controls.” They walked over to the crew chief servicing the craft.
“Chief, let Mark get into the cockpit and see what’s going on up there.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, stepping aside as Mark climbed into the cockpit of the fighter. Sliding down into the pilot’s seat, Mark was at once familiar with the controls.
“Put your helmet on,” Matheson said.
Mark reached behind him and slipped the helmet onto his head. Engaging the safety before activating it, he powered up the system and was startled by the display that came up. What he saw in front of him was a grid, with his current location mapped out and marked by a flashing dot.
“What is this?” he asked.
“That’s the hyperspace grid display. Everything is tied in to the helmet. Basically, if you think of where you want to go, the computer will plot the proper course through hyperspace for you. Try it!” he said.
Mark thought of the Jerrollite home world, and after a brief delay, a set of coordinates came up on the screen next to a new dot with a connecting line drawn between them.
“There you are! All laid out and ready to go,” the chief said proudly.
“I must admit I’m impressed with the navigational capabilities, but I’m still more than a little nervous about taking this thing out on its virgin run,” Mark said.
“Well, I figured you might feel that way, so I took the liberty of asking Johann to join you. Here he comes now,” Matheson said.
Johann entered the bay. “Hey, boys! We ready to rock or what?”
“I’m glad you’re going, Johann.” Turning to Matheson, Mark said, “When do we leave?”
“As soon as you both get suited up and ready to go— say, fifteen minutes or so.”
“Mon, you don’ give a body much time, do ya?” said Johann.
“Time enough when you both get back. We don’t have enough time to install the singularity generator as a weapon on the ship, so we’re going to load it into the cargo module. You’re going to have to find a spot on one of their moons to set it up. Once you get there and get set up, you contact me here on the Hercules, and I will give you instructions at that time. If for some reason you can’t reach me, you have full authority to use the weapon as you see fit. Good luck to both of you. Launch is in fifteen minutes.” Matheson turned and headed back toward the bridge.
Mark and Johann left to don their flight gear as the generator was being rolled into the bay. Technicians loaded it into the cargo module of the fighter along with all the support equipment required to operate it. Once all the equipment was secure and the ship was ready to go, the crew chief took a moment to draw an image of a thunderbolt cracking a planet into two pieces, along with the words Jerrollite Enema on the nose of the ship. The chief smiled grimly at his artwork.
“Hey, Chief,” someone said from behind him. The
chief turned to see every member of his crew standing there. The man who had spoken to him took the marker from his hand and placed his name beneath the image. Each member of the crew stepped forward and signed it with a flourish, declaring the ship ready for the fight.
Mark and Johann put on their pressure suits and prepared for the upcoming flight. “Not really sure what to expect,” said Mark.
“I know. Do you fully comprehend what they are asking us to do?” said Johann.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. They basically want us to commit genocide on the Jerrollites,” said Mark. The gravity of that statement hit Johann hard. He had known all along, but hearing it said out loud really brought it home.
“I hope I can do it when the time comes,” said Johann.
Mark paused for a moment, turning to face him directly. “Johann, it’s a tough burden, I know, but it really is our only hope. They are coming to destroy this planet, and we have no way to stop them. We can only hope that the fear of losing their own home will prevent them from committing genocide on us.”
Johann hung his head and considered Mark’s words. Raising his head, he looked intently into Mark’s eyes and said, “I’m good. Let’s do this.” Mark and Johann emerged from the locker room in full pressure suits and flight gear and headed toward the waiting fighter.
“Mon, this stuff is heavy!” said Johann.
“Tell me about it, buddy,” said Mark as he hoisted himself up into the cockpit of the new fighter. Johann climbed into the secondary seat, located behind and above the pilot. Both men slipped the signal cables into their suits to activate the systems on the spacecraft. Because they were in full pressure gear, it would be necessary to use the helmets built into the suits instead of the one aboard the fighter. These helmets were specially designed to monitor the electrical activity of the pilot’s brain, using that to derive the requested actions and take them as appropriate. Flight crews leaned into the cockpit, checking each connection to their suits and making sure everything was secure and showing green.
Once everything checked out properly, the crew chief patted each of them on the helmet and made a thumbs-up sign. Mark and Johann both responded with a thumbs-up in turn. As the cockpit cover slid into place, all the lights and sounds of the busy landing bay were blocked out—both men sat in total darkness. Overcome with a sudden sense of claustrophobia, Mark was relieved when the control panels in the cockpit sprang to life, illuminating the interior of the fighter. Mark checked his communications with Johann.
“How you doin’ back there, Johann?”
“It’s like sittin’ in your momma’s womb back here. I hope you know how to fly this thing.”
“I thought you had the instruction manual!” said Mark. Johann stared blankly at him, pausing for a moment before realizing he was being teased. They shared a laugh.
“Don’t worry about me; just make sure you understand how to handle that generator in the back!”
“Got the instructions right here!” said Johann, waving a sheaf of papers where Mark could see them. Both men again shared a nervous laugh. The radio crackled.
“Mark, this is General Matheson. Are your communications okay?”
“Fine, sir. We’re ready to go.”
“All right, stand by for launch on my signal. Flight Control, clear the bay.”
Mark could hear the muffled warning klaxon going off in the bay, signaling the imminent launch of a fighter. Crews scrambled to clear a path so the fighter could be lifted onto the launch rails. Both men felt a jolt as a crane lifted the ship and placed it gently onto the rails. After a few seconds, the radio resumed its prelaunch chatter.
“The bay is clear. Opening outer doors.”
The adrenaline began to surge through Mark’s veins in anticipation.
“Very well, Flight Control. Mark, ten seconds to launch on my mark. Ready…mark!” the flight control officer announced over the radio.
The countdown proceeded as Mark and Johann watched the seconds tick by on the cockpit clock.
“Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four… three…two…one…LAUNCH!”
The engines ignited, slamming both men deep into their seats as the fighter roared down the launch rails, headed for open space. Mark fought through the pressure of nine g’s. Just as he felt he would black out, the fighter broke free of the gravitational field. Weightlessness took over. He throttled back the main engines and looked over his shoulder at Johann, who had remained silent during the entire launch procedure.
“How you doin’ back there?” Mark asked.
Johann looked at him as a huge grin spread across his face. “I ahm doin’ quite whell. Can we do dat again?”
Mark laughed out loud. “Maybe later, my friend. If we survive.” He contacted the bridge. “Hercules, this is TAC-WING One. See you as soon as we can. Wish us luck!” Mark visualized the Jerrollite star system, and instantly a plotted course popped up on his display.
“Here we go, Johann! Hang on!”
With Mark’s single thought, the hyperspace field activated and enveloped the small fighter, blasting it through a void never before traveled by man or machine.
On the bridge of the Hercules, the crew watched as the tiny ship disappeared in a brilliant burst of light, carrying with it the hopes of the human race.
CHAPTER 24
The ships of Earth’s decimated fleet were assembling in orbit—three battleships and a handful of troop transport ships outfitted with as many weapons as possible during the short period of time they had to prepare. The Hercules was by far the largest and most battle-ready ship in the entire armada.
On the bridge Matheson stood in front of his view screen and surveyed his resources for battle. The grim expression on his face revealed his inner thoughts regarding their chances of surviving the coming battle, much less stopping the onslaught. It would be up to the Hercules to take on all offensive actions; the other ships would act in supporting roles. A report from his logistics officer interrupted his thoughts.
“All ships have reported in, sir.”
“Understood,” Matheson said. You’ve got to be kidding me. This is impossible, he thought.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he gave the order to move out. One by one, with the Hercules in the lead, the ships began to lumber out of Earth’s orbit, heading toward a rendezvous with certain death.
“Helm, plot an intercept course for the Jerrollite fleet and relay it to all the other ships.”
“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said.
“Incoming message from Earth Command, sir,” said the comm officer.
“Put it on screen.”
The image of the stars was immediately replaced with that of the president of Earth Command. “I have some supplementary data on the Jerrollite fleet for you, General. Long-range scans are detecting a massive amount of energy being beamed out of the Jerrollite star system toward their fleet.”
“Some type of weapon?” Matheson asked.
“Our men don’t think so, General. It appears to be a power link with their ships. We can’t detect any self-contained power sources aboard the approaching ships. The labs here theorize that the Jerrollites are actually powering their ships from the home planet using their version of a Tesla coil.”
“Are you telling me they can actually transmit power through space?”
“Yes, it would appear so. Our guys here also tell me that there is no way such a transmitter could actually be located on the planet’s surface. The residual radiation would be enough to kill even Jerrollites. So we think it’s probably located on either a moon or perhaps an orbiting platform of some kind.”
The wheels of Matheson’s mind began to turn. For the first time since he had received the message informing him of the imminent attack, he could detect a thin sliver of hope shining in the cloud of despair surrounding him.
“If we could knock out their power source, their ships would be dead in space, right?” Matheson asked.
“We concur with that theory, yes,�
�� said the president.
“Then instead of attacking their home world, we should use the singularity generator to destroy their power station! That will leave their ships powerless and just might provide us with a reasonable chance of getting home alive!”
The president picked up on Matheson’s line of thought, growing more excited by the moment. “Excellent idea, General. Work out the details and implement the change in plans immediately. I will contact you if any more information becomes available.”
“Thank you for the update, sir. I will contact Mark and inform him of the plan. Hercules out.” As much as Matheson hated the Jerrollites, he was relieved at the possibility of not having to destroy the entire race.
The view screen blanked momentarily and then returned to a view of the stars.
“Comm, contact TAC-WING One immediately.”
“We can’t, sir; the hyperspace field blocks all transmissions. We can’t talk to them until they come out.”
Matheson clenched his jaw in frustration as his mind quickly ran over all the possibilities.
“Very well, monitor his progress, and the second his ship comes out of hyperspace, I want you to transmit this message as a top priority.” He tapped out the message on a keyboard. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
“I want you to handle it personally. Notify me as soon as the transmission is made.”
“Aye, sir. Message is ready to transmit; standing by.”
The monitor that showed TAC-WING One glowed red, indicating that the ship was still in hyperspace. When the fighter emerged from the field, the monitor would glow green, and communications would be possible. Matheson could only hope and pray that they could hold out long enough to survive.
“Flank speed, Helm. Now.”
“Aye, sir.”
The engines of the Hercules flared briefly as it moved out and began to gain speed. The other ships in the fleet took their cue and increased their speed to match it.
Gravitys Hammer Page 17
