Harry Heron Savage Fugitive

by Patrick G Cox

  “Good. Now perhaps we can get to her, and then get back to our routine,” said the Commander. “Any update on Consortium activity?”

  “Not since this morning’s situation report. But then, who knows? With their current tactics aimed at cutting off food and raw materials, they may be holding back on direct action.”

  “As I read it, the report suggests they’re regrouping for something.”

  “I picked up on that too. How’s the situation on navigation?”

  The Commander had to hand it to the Captain. She didn’t miss much even if she appeared to keep her distance. “I’m watching it. I moved Heron to assist our scientist, and they seemed to get on like a house on fire. Mr. Clarke isn’t happy he hasn’t got Heron under his thumb all day every day, and he knows he can’t push the Warrants the way he did Heron. The real problem is he feels threatened by anyone more able than he is. And he’s so rigid on procedure that he refuses to do anything outside of the manuals. That’s having a negative impact on everyone around him, particularly when we exercise emergency procedures, like that incident with the mining platform. His rigid adherence to the Manual of Evasive Manoeuvres in Combat is worrying as well. It hampers our manoeuvring.”

  “I won’t have him endanger the ship,” said the Captain. “If he’s unable to use initiative and encourage his people to do so, then he’s a danger to the ship and all of us. Can we move him to a less critical department?” Hesitating, she added, “A pity Heron is so junior. He’s a far better navigator.”

  “It might be possible to move Lieutenant Clarke, but I suspect it would simply move the problem to a new area. Plus, none of the others have the Pilotage Course in their portfolios. Leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Okay, but Clarke worries me, and how he managed to get a pass in the Pilotage Course beats me. Plus, he has a history of poor command relations with his divisions on other ships.” The Captain paused as she considered how to handle the situation. “I’ll have a word with him. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have him transferred.”

  The three Fleet ships dropped out, bracketing the crippled liner. The Senior Captain aboard Hecate contacted Captain Reynard. “Durham Castle, our assessment team is on the way. We will remain in system but will be mobile in defensive patrols. Once the assessment is made, we will determine our next actions.”

  “Glad to see you, Captain. We’re ready to receive your team.”

  “Good. They will be with you in the next few minutes.”

  At his station in Navigation Control, Harry held position and kept the Daring moving in a pattern that would make targeting her difficult. His link chirped.

  “Heron,” he responded.

  “Hand over the con to Lieutenant Clarke. I want you to go to the Durham Castle with Lieutenant Lee and Sub-Lieutenant O’Connor. Their navigation system is down, and it will need that special trick of yours to get it back up.” The Executive Commander’s voice was terse. “Shuttle bay is on stand-by. You have ten minutes to get your kit together and get there. Be prepared for a few days away.”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” Harry’s heart raced. To the Lieutenant, he said, “Sir, I have programmed the next three transits in this pattern.” He pointed to his display. “The navigation system is set to repeat the pattern randomly for the last four jumps unless you wish to change it. May I hand over the con, sir?”

  “I have the con.” Lieutenant Clarke sounded annoyed. “You’re relieved, Mr. Heron.” He seemed about to make a further comment then thought better of it.

  Harry found Ferghal and Lieutenant Lee waiting with several more TechRates and a Warrant Officer.

  “Good, you’re here.” Lieutenant Lee greeted him. “Board, Warrant.” To Harry, he said, “We may have to stay with the Durham Castle. Her nav system seems to have blown out an entire node and is refusing to respond to any of the usual rerouting routines. If we can’t repair it, you and Ferghal may have to act as bridges and make the damned ship respond. You up for it?”

  “I have a choice, sir?” Harry was a little surprised to be asked. He caught Ferghal’s grin and nodded. “Of course, sir — we shall, as Master Warrant Berry is wont to say — give it a whirl.”

  In the Navigation Centre, Lieutenant Clarke checked Harry’s programmed jumps, and grunted in disapproval. Convinced they were wrong, but unable to figure out how to confirm his ‘hunch’, he said, “Helm, cancel the Sub-Lieutenant’s program. I’ll enter a proper set.” He cleared his throat loudly and shifted in his seat as he glanced around, hoping someone noticed that he was the one in charge here, but all heads were bent to their tasks.

  After the minimalist fittings and decor of the Daring and her sister ships, the Durham Castle had something of a fading opulence about her. The officer waiting in the docking bay greeted them with relief.

  “Thank God you’re here. We’re stuffed with refugees and they’re getting very twitchy. This way, please.” He held out his hand, and the others followed as he set off in that direction. “Our people have got the faulty node opened up, but we don’t have the spares to replace it, repair it or even jury-rig it.” His scowl betrayed how he felt about that. “Being economical with our resources, according to our owners.”

  Lieutenant Lee grimaced. “Sounds like the sort of false economy our bureaucrats are always trying to impose. He shook his head and gave a weary sigh. “Just how the hell we’re supposed to keep a ship going with no spare parts, I’m damned if I know.”

  Passengers gathered in almost every open space to watch the newcomers. Many seemed to be nervous or, at the very least, concerned about the ship and its safety.

  “This ship is full of women and children,” Harry remarked to Ferghal. “It will be no easy matter to transfer them to our ships if we cannot correct this problem.” He frowned. “I have tried the link to the ship’s AI, and though it works, it is almost as if the ship has become ill. I sense that it is confused, or possibly afraid.”

  Ferghal nodded. “Aye, you’re right. It seems frightened, almost like a child that has lost its way. I’ll see if any other parts of the system are damaged or failing.”

  Harry nodded. “I shall see what I can discover while you effect the repair.”

  At the service duct in which the failed node was situated, it took the leading TechRate a matter of minutes to open the casing and expose the damaged boards. While this work commenced, Harry sensed that the ship was watching their activities with an almost paranoid anxiety.

  “Be easy, Durham Castle.” He tried to soothe the ship as if it were a startled horse. “We are here to repair you and restore your navigational programming.”

  “I have had some other defects for a while, but no one repairs them. They keep trying to make my engineering functions perform other tasks, but those could fail at any time, and I can’t self-repair anymore. If they are not repaired, I could fail in transit, and that would kill my passengers, which is forbidden by the laws I must obey.”

  The terrified AI launched into a flood of information, and Harry had to stop it to get back to the job at hand.

  “If you identify the defects for us, we may be able to do it, but we do not have much time. Now, I have a new set of star charts for you, and my friends are replacing your damaged processors and circuitry. The charts are the latest and fully up to date, which will improve your systems. May I upload the star charts for you?”

  “Yes, but please replace the processors in my helm and hyper-pod control cortex — otherwise, they will fail as soon as we enter transit.”

  Lieutenant Clarke consulted his beloved Manual of Evasive Manoeuvres in Combat, and entered his changes to Harry’s course and waypoints for their evasive holding pattern. He practically pounded the interface as he input commands. Satisfied, he sent his changes to the helm. “Warrant, amended course — commence series.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Warrant spoke without looking up, and when he glanced at his screen, he felt an immediate sense of alarm. “S
ir, this will take us within close range of a cluster of impact asteroids. The ship is flagging a collision danger.”

  “Ignore it. We’ll be well clear.”

  The Warrant Officer entered his commands, and the ship began the series. Dropping out a few seconds later, there was a sudden lurch followed by the clamour of alarms.

  “Proximity alarm,” growled the Warrant. “Initiating evasive action.”

  “Lieutenant Clarke!” The Captain’s voice had an angry edge. “What the hell are you playing at? That nearly put us in the middle of a cluster of asteroids. Make sure it doesn’t happen again!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lieutenant Clarke sounded shaken. He entered a new series of commands and relayed them to the helm. “Amended manoeuvres. Enter these and commence pattern.” The Lieutenant reverted the course instructions to Harry’s original pattern.

  “Aye, aye, sir.” The Warrant hid his grin, relishing the fact that it rankled the Lieutenant to hear him use Harry’s old-fashioned reply, but he couldn’t do a thing about it.

  “Captain, this board is fitted with processors and components which don’t match the spec for this function.” Lieutenant Lee confronted the Durham Castle’s Captain. “Was this replaced recently or repaired?”

  “Yes. We’d had a problem, and the company sent a repair team, but the supervisor admitted they weren’t given the correct components. They did the best they could with what they had.”

  “You’re lucky this didn’t go in transit,” said Lieutenant Lee, as he watched Ferghal checking other parts. “I’m surprised it even worked to get you this far.” Gesturing at the damaged components already replaced, he added, “It’s done a hell of a lot of damage to other parts of the system. This could have given your ship a major case of paranoia. These AI systems can go like that.”

  “Sir.” Harry got the Lieutenant’s attention. “The ship is afraid we intend to wipe out its entire personality and impose a new one. I’ve done what I can to reassure it, but it says there are other faults. Ferghal knows where those are.”

  “Damn,” said the Lieutenant. “Okay, Mr. Heron, do what you can to deal with that. Ferghal, where are these other problems?”

  Ferghal told him.

  “Right, Tzurek, Jakobs, get cracking. Use the schematic and get those nodes open. Find the defects and let Warrant Mecklin and Sub-Lieutenant O’Connor check them and do the necessary.”

  When the Lieutenant and Captain were left standing alone, the Captain said, “What did that young Sub-Lieutenant mean about the ship saying it has other faults? How does he know?”

  “Ah. He’s got a bit of a special ability, very useful, actually. He can talk to the AI directly. Something to do with an implant neural link.” Seeing the Captain’s skeptical expression, he added, “Trust me. It works. When the ability to reroute around damaged components is blocked, say by the failure of certain critical units, the AI goes into a form of shock and can’t deal with the problem.” He nodded toward Harry. “I may have to leave these officers with you for the run home to ensure the network doesn’t go haywire.”

  Captain Reynard wasn’t convinced. “How can such young officers help if that happens?”

  “You’ll find they are somewhat unusual — that’s why they were sent.” He looked up as Harry approached. “Yes, Mr. Heron?”

  “The charts are loaded, sir, and the ship is calculating the course. I have established a link with Daring, sir, so that she can work with Durham Castle.”

  “Well done. As soon as Mr. O’Connor has finished his checks and replaced all the duff components he’s found, I want to run a full check of all systems. Then we’ll see how we go from there.” The Lieutenant’s link chirped in his ear. “Yes, Ferghal?”

  “We’ve repaired everything we can, sir,” Ferghal reported. “There are still a couple of systems we can’t fix, but they aren’t essential, or they can be run through another unit.”

  “Great stuff,” said the Lieutenant. “Right, Mr. Heron, do your thing and monitor the ship’s reactions. Mr. O’Connor, commence a full system check, please.”

  With the checks complete and the Durham Castle reassured by the link to Daring and to himself, Harry reported to the Lieutenant.

  “Well done. You’re to stay aboard her and make sure nothing else goes wrong between here and Pangaea.” Lieutenant Lee grinned. “Lucky devils — I’m sure you’re eager to get back to that planet.” He noted Harry and Ferghal’s wary expressions of dread rather than eagerness. During their past two deployments to Pangaea, they’d had nothing but bad experiences. “Enjoy yourselves,” the Lieutenant added with a smirk.

  “We’ll be sure to do that, sir. We’ll even make sure to have an extra bit of fun for you, sir!” Ferghal’s infectious grin and forced exuberance got the round of laughter he was looking for.

  In the Wardroom, Lieutenant Clarke sat in morose isolation. He’d never been popular, and was certainly not one of the Fleet’s brighter stars. In fact, if it were not for a well placed relative in Fleet Appointments, he’d certainly not have this current posting with the opportunity it gave, according to the relative, to prove himself. His gaze swept the Wardroom, taking in several other officers studiously avoiding his company. Damn them!

  A little more luxurious than the Senior Warrants’ Mess, the Wardroom boasted several models of earlier ships named Daring and a large painting of a fine-looking steam driven ship plowing through the water at full speed. The comfortably furnished lounge opened onto a formally arranged dining space as well as the short corridor that served the individual cabins for its occupants.

  Still a little shaken by the close call with the asteroids, which even he admitted was his fault, he gulped his drink and almost choked.

  “Damn them all,” he muttered to himself.

  “You wish for another drink, Lieutenant?” The android steward startled him.

  “No. No, I don’t. Push off.” Damned androids, they gave him the creeps. Sinking back into his anger, he nursed his resentment. He’d struggled to get this far in the service, and he wanted to make a success of it despite everyone being against him. Apart from anything else, if he failed, he knew that Delle, his demanding wife, would ditch him in a trice. He frowned at the thought. Damn! He loved her and let her walk all over him, yet she treated him like a child. The only reason she stayed with him, he sometimes thought, was that she liked the status his rank and position gave her — and she was impatient for his promotion, never missing an opportunity to press him about it.

  Chapter 4 — Ambushed

  The return to the Daring after the idleness of their time on the Durham Castle came with mixed feelings. It was good to be back at work, but for Harry, it meant dealing with Lieutenant Clarke again. It also meant not being able to put through holocalls to Mary on a daily basis. Coms were restricted on patrol to avoid betraying the ship’s position, and personal calls were completely barred.

  Daring and Diamond dropped out in the system designated on their charts as LG-61 near a large unnamed planet with a dozen or more moons swirling around it. A small yellow star appeared on their screens with a number of planets in their orbits, some perilously close to one another.

  “Scan shows no other vessels in this system,” reported the TechRate on the scanner station.

  “Good,” Captain Aisha Maia acknowledged. “Maintain scan — active, alternating, passive. Consortium ships are known to be active in this area. Navigation, bring us to an orbit matching the outer moon. I want to do a deep scan of the planet and each of the moons.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” Harry responded, and the ship’s heading changed.

  Harry watched the navigation readouts as the ship slowed and closed on the coordinates for orbit. Checking the information logged on this system, he found plenty to interest him. A youthful system in cosmic terms, it had a rather violent collection of inner planets evidently still in the accretion phase. Four ice giants prowled in the outer regions, their orbits at least s
table, each having a cluster of moons of varying sizes. On the boundary between the inner and outer sections, a solitary gas giant sailed majestically around the star sweeping up debris. It was resplendent with a series of spectacular rings and a host of moons, some larger than many of the inner planets.

  Deep in the hull, in the Engineering Control Centre, monitoring the power generation plant, Ferghal listened to the flow of commands. With luck, they would have a bit of time now to carry out some maintenance. One of the hyperpods was showing signs of potential instability, a dangerous situation should it fail in transit while under power. He had reported this to his superior, and they had discussed what actions would be necessary when the opportunity arose. This looked like the chance — they would be in system and not using the pods for at least a week. Ferghal began to assemble his task list.

  The friendship between Harry and Rasmus grew, their conversations ranging widely following on from their discussions of the manufacturing process for gunpowder in the eighteenth century. Rasmus wondered aloud where the saltpeter came from.

  Harry thought of the best way to explain. “It is — I mean was — distilled from the urine of beasts and extracted from the dirt of cowsheds, stables and even the floors of the homes of the poorest in our society — a difficult process involving a great stink and much skimming of the crystals which grow in the vats.”

  Rasmus was baffled. “How was this collected? Was this the only source you had?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know all of the sources, Rasmus.” Harry laughed. “I was a user, not a manufacturer. But I believe that some was obtained from natural sources such as the waste of sea birds, from deposits in caves and in some mines where such nitrates are found naturally. In the latter years of the war, I believe these sources had largely replaced the urine extraction method.”