He Who Dares: Book Three (11 page)

“No, you have to be reading it wrong; you transfer from one point in space above or below a system star out of the gravity well to another or to another gateway that’s in the range of our sensors with an active beacon, right?”

“No, sir, the chart shows sixteen different possibilities just from Pluto WP,” she whispered.

“Good god!”

“That’s what I said, Skipper, and what we’ve been banging our heads against the bulkhead over for three days.” Janice was no dummy, and she’d clearly thought this out before coming to him.

“Sixteen?”

“Yes, sir, and we could have traveled to Avalon in three weeks. That’s three jumps of a week each, instead of three months.” The implications were staggering, yet there had to be a catch.

“What about a jump from above a planet?”

“That I can’t say, sir. Only that’s what the charts show. I’m not even sure you could jump to another star, but you could jump into interstellar space.”

“And risk re-materializing into a space occupied by something else, another ship, or asteroid… hell even a small meteorite for that matter. You do know what happens in the event of that happening, Cooper?”

“Y… yes, sir. Mutual annihilation. No two objects can occupy the same space at the same time.” She quoted.

“That’s the penalty for disobeying that rule, and the reason no ship’s captain will even risk micro jumping within a star system. But, I think you have something else to tell me, right?”

“Yes, sir, but...”

“Here it comes,” he sighed, “what’s the ‘but’, Janice?”

“We have no idea how to do it or how they identify the star they want to jump to without a beacon to lock onto.”

“Oh, wonderful.” He muttered. “It is possible to jump to an unmarked star, but you know as well as I do that you can only get to within a week or more, unless you want to take the chance and jump right into the star.”

“True, Skipper. But I think they… the alien ship that is, had a way of locating a star without a beacon and calculating a jump within one light minute.”

“If we can only figure out how they do that, it would give us an edge over the bloody Sirriens.”

“The alien’s understanding of these gateways is way beyond anything we know, and I suspect that ship has additional equipment and technology to do it.”

“If we could get that out of the bot, and nothing else, we’d have a tremendous advantage.”

“Yes, sir, but the astonishing fact that Grace came up with, is, she thinks she knows where the ship comes from.” Janice bit her lip and looked at Grace.

“And that is?” Here comes the other shoe, Mike thought.

“The Andromeda Galaxy.” Grace whispered.

Mike just sat and looked at her for a moment, digesting the information. The distance involved was a mind boggling 2.5 million light years, a distance, at the present level of drive technology that was impossible to cross in any one man’s lifetime or even think about crossing.

“Keep working on those charts, Cooper. Maybe between you and Jan, you can come up with something we can use.”

After they departed, Mike sat there sipping coffee and pondering the implications. It was odd that no one had thought of investigating the gravitational flux above a planet. It might not be as strong as the ones above and below a star, but if there was one, and they could find a way to detect it, even jumping from a planet to one AU above a star would be a tremendous advantage. The problem was, with the new information, it just added to his nightmares, now he was running from room to room and jumping through a warp point to sixteen different cavernous rooms, lost in a maze with no way out. All the time getting farther and farther away from Earth and Anne. He could hear her calling his name, begging him to come and find her, and more than once, he woke up in a cold sweat. It got to the point where even Jenks had to say something.

“Captain…” he started to say, then changed it, “Skipper, it’s none of my business, but you need to get a good night's sleep. It’s no good you tossing and turning in your bunk all night worrying about… well, whatever it is you are worrying about.”

“Jenks, it’s none of your damn…” Mike snapped, then stopped and looked at his friend with tired eyes, and nodded. “I guess it is your business, seeing as how you’ve taken on the job of mothering me.” He smiled slightly.

Jenks sniffed. “Well, someone has to ’cuz it’s bloody sure you ain’t doing it yourself.”

“Might I remind you, that I am the captain of this ship, and…” He said, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his knees.

“So? You think killing yourself worrying about something is helping this ship, or the crew?”

At the best of times, Jenks didn’t have much respect for officers, as most didn’t know their heads from a hole in the ground. Jenks had a point, though. His worrying about the alien ship instead of worrying about his ship and crew was probably having a detrimental effect on morale.

“You’re right, Jenks. It’s just that… well, that bloody ship has me puzzled.” He grumbled, without the need to specify which ship he was referring to, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bunk.

“You’re not the only one. I think half the crew is pulling their hair out trying to get their minds around the bloody thing. Have breakfast ready for you, and a large pot of coffee.”

“Thanks, Jenks.” Mike stifled a huge yawn as he pulled on a pair of pants.

Later, Jenks cleared away Mike’s half-eaten breakfast, knowing Mike wouldn’t finish it no matter how long he sat there and pushed the food around his plate. “The best thing for you to do is take a shower to wake you up and go for a walk. Let everyone see you, ’cuz I think a lot of the crew think you’ve either jumped ship or I’m covering up the fact that you died in your sleep.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Just thank your lucky stars that Taff isn’t here, that’s all I have to say.” Mike smiled.

Taffy was worse than Jenks and could find something negative to say about a bright sunny day in the park. Probably that they would all get sunburn or something equally negative. Not that he was. If anything, Taffy was the most pragmatic man he’d ever met, outside of Jenks, that is. His “walkabout,” as the Australian’s liked to say, did cheer the crew up as he did his informal inspection and Q&A sessions with the department heads. At last, he entered the bridge, hearing the familiar ‘Captain on the Bridge’ from the Marine guard on the hatchway.

“Carry on.” He ordered, seeing his XO get up and vacate his seat.

“Just when I was getting used to sitting in it,” he muttered, smiling, as he theatrically dusted off the seat.

“Still after my nice cushy job, huh?” Mike smiled in return. “What was it Caesar said, ‘Et tu, Brute?’ just as he felt the knife slip in.” Standish-Owen tapped his porta-comp and looked pensively at the screen for a moment, and then shook his head.

“Nope, can’t do that. It isn’t March yet.” Giving Mike a killer smile. Janice giggled, which was very unlike her.

“I’ll just have to watch you two when the ‘Ides of March’ arrive.”

“What on earth?” Vera Kennedy exclaimed.

“Vera?” Standish-Owen queried.

“Believe it or not, XO I’m picking up a message drone signal about a flower delivery for us… well, you, Skipper.” Pete looked at Mike and shrugged.

“Can you download the message?”

“Yes, sir. I can download it but it’s encrypted, ‘eyes only’ but it’s doesn’t say who’s ‘eyes only’.”

“Send it to me, and the captain’s station.” Pete ordered.

“Downloading now.”

Mike tapped in his security code, and his biometric signature, seeing Pete shrug as his didn’t work. The message opened, and one look made Mike sit up.

“Helm - reverse thrust - cloak engage and hold this position! Sensors, are there any ships within our sensor range?”

“All stop, Skipper.” Cindy Loftland called as she applied reverse thrust.

“Cloak engaged, skipper.” Gable reported.

“No, sir. There’s nothing in our sensor range.”

“Skipper?” Pete asked, looking over his shoulder. Mike crooked a finger at him.

“Nigel, extend your sweep out to as far as you can and report anything that might look like a ship heading in our direction. Jan, switch on our cloak.”

“Aye, sir. Cloak activated.”

“Extending sweep…. Hmm, I have a lot of echoes for normal traffic coming and going or moving around the system, but nothing coming our way, sir.”

“Keep an eye on it and see if anything gets closer.

“Aye aye, Skipper, watching faint echo.” Nigel answered as Mike pointed to his screen. Pete looked at it and raised his eyebrows.

“It looks like we’ve worn out our welcome.”

“Damn. I was looking forward to the big brass band and the dancing girls,” Pete grumbled as he read the message again.

To: Captain Bear: Mercenary ship Hemlock.

Please be advised, that as of this date, the Royal Navy considers any armed mercenary vessels entering Sol system to be ‘persona non grata’ and will be fired upon without warning until further notice. This notice in no way prevents Earth citizens from visiting family and friends on compassionate grounds.

End Message.

Admiral of the Fleet. Sir Anthony Rawlings.

“Well, so much for the big brass band.” Mike muttered.

“And reading between the lines?” Pete rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Not sure, but it looks like the admiral doesn’t want anyone seeing this ship.”

“And yet, it appears he wants us… well, you to go and see him,” Pete said, looking pensive.

“Yes, and it solves another problem that’s been bothering me.”

“Which is?”

“What to do about the alien ship. There’s no way I’m going to turn that ship over to the Admiralty now, not if what I suspect is going on, is going on.”

“I agree, Skipper. It looks as if the Sirriens are making moves on the home system. And, if that’s the case, no way can they even know about it or us for that matter.”

“Right. So, what are our options?” Mike looked up at Pete, an open expression on his face.

“Why not send her home, Mike?”

“Damn! She’s going to need a lot of fuel just to get her out of the trap she’s in let alone get her to somewhere she can scoop or pick up fuel.”

“That means she’s going to need about four tankers full.”

“Pete, you’re not suggesting we um… borrow some, are you?”

“Well, Captain Bear, You are a pirate… I mean a mercenary ship’s captain, aren’t you?”

“You have a devious mind, Mr. Standish-Owen. I’ll have to keep my eye on you.” He laughed. “But you are incorrect, rightly, we should be called buccaneers, not pirates.”

“Yo ho ho, and all that... ” He stopped and looked at Mike, “I’m not sure what the difference is, Skipper.”

“Then I shall enlighten you, having recently looked up that particular point. A pirate is someone who preys on ships of all nations without regard to what flag its flying. A buccaneer, or privateer, on the other hand only preys on ships of an enemy nation after a state of war, or similar event, has been declared.”

Pete nodded in understanding, “So, do we steal them as the
Nemesis
or the
Hemlock
?”

“Humm, that’s a good point.” Mike pulled his earlobe for a moment. “I’d put it down in the ship’s log that we are refueling the
Nemesis
, as prescribed in naval regulations. After that we become the
Hemlock.
”

Pete smiled, “It’s going to come as a surprise to RNSTS that this ship could carry that much fuel.”

“They will be even more surprised when they find out this ship doesn’t even exist.” That brought laughter around the bridge.

At least he’d made his decision about the alien ship even knowing he might get brought up on charges if they ever discovered he was Captain Bear. The fuelling station on Europa had a dense string of fuel barges orbiting Jupiter. All RN ships use Helium-3, or H
3
, to feed their fusion reactors. That meant that there was a ready supply of liquid H
3
available to fill the alien ship’s fuel tanks so she could move. Once out of the dead spot, it should be able to jump to any H
3
source and fill up its fuel tanks for the long jump home. If Jan and Ensign Cooper were correct, that was a long jump indeed. Now all that remained was to use the admiral’s authority to highjack at least four of those ten-million-barrel tanker barges, and get them through the Pluto WP.

The trouble with that was, once the unauthorized transfer of fuel worked its way through the system, it would put Admiral Rawlings in a very difficult position of having to explain it. Far better would be to just steal the fuel in the first place. A few missing fuel barges would go unnoticed for a while what with the semi-auto barges moving to and from Jupiter and the fleet and stations around the system. Being semi autonomous, meant he needed to get someone onboard each of those tankers and upload the nav data. Janice, Ensign Cooper, Wheeler, and Cindy Loftland could upload the data, but they’d need a little help getting aboard. Sergeant Rice and his Marines should be able to take care of that using their shuttle and their two-man scooters.

Timing was going to be critical and he’d have to get Jan to work out the exact moment to board the tanker while they were on the “dark” side of Jupiter and out of visual and sensor range of the control station. She’d also have to work out the course to Enright’s Folly and time it so their departure wouldn’t be obvious. With extraction ships coming and going from Jupiter’s upper atmosphere to refill empty tankers that shouldn’t be too difficult. Add to that, tankers moving out to refuel ships of the fleet and others returning to refill and there should be enough traffic to cover them part of the time. Janice and Pete smiled when he laid out his plan and agreed with him about refueling the alien ship and letting it depart for its home world. The icing on that particular cake came when Adam asked him to come down to engineering, and for once Adam wasn’t smiling when he walked in.

“What’s up, Adam? You look a little frustrated.” Adam had his office and workshop on the mezzanine level of the engineering space and it looked as cluttered and untidy as Adam himself.

“You have to see this to believe it, Skipper.” He moved over to a heavy work bench and pointed to a flat plate of grayish material.

“Is that a piece of the hull plate from the alien ship?”

“Yes, Skipper, it is.”

“How on earth did you manage to get a piece that large into the retrieval bag let alone on the shuttle?” The sheet, or slab of metal was almost five feet across one way by ten feet the other.

“I didn’t.”

Mike gave his a sharp look. “Come again?”

Adam reached into a canvas bag on the end of the bench and pulled out a curved piece of metal about five inches by three inches. The piece was almost bent in half one way and bent in an odd direction in another along the outer edges.

“This is a bit of the hull plating that got blown off by some sort of horribly powerful weapon. I picked up a lot of them and brought them back. Watch.”

Saying that, he looked for and found an edge on the large plate about the length of the bent piece. Carefully, he held the bent piece against the edge of the larger plate and to Mike’s surprise they mated and came together as if they were magnetically attracted to each other. Once they “bonded” Adam let go and stood back.

“I’ll be damned!” Mike muttered and leaned closer and watched as the bent piece of hull plate slowly straightened itself out. In less than a minute it was as flat and straight as the rest of the plate. On top of that, there was no sign of any junction, or any way to tell that it wasn’t part of the plate to start with.

“If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I don’t think I would have believed it.”

“Sort of said that myself, Skipper, but that's not the strangest part.”

“What else?”

Adam hurried over to a large boxlike machine off to one side. Adam opened the side exposing a cutting platform and an inch thick slab of laminated metal.