The Commander Page 8

  “What are you doing here?” she asked groggily, and then took a sip from a bottle of water.

  “George sent me. He was worried about your health when you passed out.”

  “I passed out?”

  “Out cold,” Luke assured her. “You were asleep on my desk. George has ordered two days bedrest.”

  She gave him a skeptical look and her eyes glazed over momentarily. “He said rest, not bedrest.”

  “Okay. I’m not trying to start a fight.”

  Annie’s expression softened. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Well, I’m not leaving for a couple of days. Otherwise, you’d go right back to work. We’ve been going nonstop for almost a year. We could both use a break. I already told Roth we’re going to be out for a few days.”

  “But what about the recruiting centers?” she responded with concern. “We’re about to go live in a million countries. I need to check my voice mail.”

  “Not quite that many, I think,” Luke corrected. “And besides, it’s still a month away.” George? he said mentally.

  Yes, Commander?

  Can you intercept Annie’s phone calls yourself?

  Yes, Commander. That would not be a problem.

  Okay, then. Return her voice mails. Handle whatever the call is about and let whoever is calling know she’s out for a couple of days. If you need help, get with Roth.

  Consider it done, Commander.

  “I take it you heard that?” Luke asked Annie. Her expression told him that she had. She looked both relieved and worried. “Quit worrying,” he said. “What shall we do for fun? You ever been scuba diving?”

  “Right. Where are we going to go scuba diving around here?”

  “No worries,” he assured her. “I came in our trusty faux-Gulfstream. I was thinking we could jet down to Bora Bora. We can leave after we eat and I bet Winifred could get us there in about fifteen minutes.” He pushed one of the Styrofoam containers across the marbled countertop. “We deserve a break.”

  # # #

  Luke could not remember a vacation he had enjoyed more. Annie had ditched the scuba diving idea and opted for surfing. As promised, they had flown to Bora Bora only to find that it was not the best location. The atoll was beautiful but dangerous for beginners. The locals encouraged them to try out Moorea, three islands to the west. It was good advice.

  They found a young woman named Elise who had permanently moved to the island with her beau to enjoy the year-round surfing opportunities. The couple ran a small business helping tourists, and Luke found them knowledgeable and good company.

  The two-day vacation turned into three, and Luke was toying with making it five. He wanted to stay but they were both feeling the heat, literally and figuratively. Lou Morrow sent word the latest combat warship prototype was ready for Luke’s approval. They needed to head back; Annie to the Baggs airport and he to Moonbase. But today there was still time for one more chance to surf the waves, enjoy a few last beers, and share a great sunset.

  In the morning they surfed until they were so tired they could barely stand up. Back in their rented vacation hut Annie was giving him uncertain looks. They were in the kitchen preparing an evening meal. She leaned across to snag the mustard and he had stepped back with an automatic apology.

  “Why?” she asked. “What are you sorry for?”

  “What?” Luke wasn’t sure what she meant.

  “Why are you apologizing?” she persisted. “Why would you apologize when I brush against you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Have you even noticed these?” she asked, sticking out her chest, displaying a tremendous amount of cleavage.

  Luke grew silent and his breathing slowed. He suddenly felt he was in dangerous territory. “Of course I have,” he admitted quietly. “But I’m old enough to be your father.”

  “No you’re not; I checked. I’m thirty-four now. You’re forty.”

  “Well, I feel older.”

  “So when you’re five hundred years old, and I’m four hundred ninety-four you’ll still be too old for me? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “What?”

  “I had a long talk with George,” she said. “He told me how we’ve changed.”

  “I was going to tell you about that.”

  “That’s not my point. He explained in detail about extended lifespans. How people deal with it. We’re here for the long haul. Just the two of us.”

  Luke felt unaccountably guilty. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to understand. I know you feel responsible for saving humanity, but I’m in this too.”

  “Annie…”

  “You know what George told me? He’s watched a lot of people who lived a long time. He said that people who do different things all their lives should do it with the same person. That way they share their experiences with each other and grow old together.”

  “We are doing different things,” Luke said. “And we’re doing them together.”

  “But we’re not together; you and I. We’re not a couple.”

  “I know that. I didn’t think it was fair.”

  “To you or to me?”

  “To you,” he said. “Of course I mean you. You have no idea how important you are to me.”

  “How would I know? Are you keeping it a secret?”

  “I’m not trying to keep anything secret. It’s just …”

  Annie massaged her forehead in frustration. After a moment she took a deep breath. “The point is,” she began. “The point I’m trying to make is that things are different now. We became colleagues a year ago. I want to be partners now. Life partners.” She moved against him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling his body to hers. “And if you’re smart, you do too.”

  She kissed him and Luke was lost. Without conscious thought, he responded, returning her passion fiercely.

  The vacation lasted five more days.

  # # #

  Linda looked up from her knitting when they walked into the terminal building. Luke was carrying a variety of packages, all the touristy gifts that Annie had insisted on picking up before departing the beautiful South Pacific island.

  “So did you two get everything worked out,” Linda asked with a mischievous smirk.

  Annie grinned widely in return. She took the packages from Luke and started digging through them, looking for the piece of coral she had bought for Linda.

  Luke didn’t say anything. He just looked from one woman to the other while his face turned bright red. Defeated and humbled, he walked out, headed toward the flight line. Linda’s joyous cackle followed him out of the building.

  “Winifred, take me back to Moonbase,” he ordered, climbing into the pilot’s seat of the faux-Gulfstream.

  “Course set, Commander.”

  Luke leaned back in the pilot’s seat and took a deep breath.

  George?

  “Yes, Commander?” George’s voice came from the front console.

  “That whole thing was a setup, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, Commander. It was.”

  Luke didn’t speak until they were almost at Moonbase. As the aircraft settled inside the hangar he whispered, “Okay. Thanks, then.”

  Day 341—Population 8,831

  Luke reminded himself again to stifle any negative comments about design during the upcoming meeting. Morrow had invited him to review the final warship prototype. “Don’t criticize,” Luke muttered to himself, and entered the workshop.

  “Just in time,” Morrow said. He stood next to the large design table in the center of the room. A hologram of the latest design floated in the air.

  Luke smiled. “Now that’s what I call a combat vehicle. I like everything about her.”

  He wasn’t kidding. The ship had elegant curved lines. In essence, her shape was a slightly stretched oval, flattened at the back where the gravity drives were mounted. The crew module consisted of a slee
k, emerald-shaped structure built into a notch at the front of the vessel. Parallel cannons embedded in the top ran lengthwise like the powerful sinews of broad shoulders.

  “We’re calling it the Ambrosia-class warship,” Morrow said.

  Luke was surprised. “After Ambrose?”

  “Yeah. We talked about it. Our construction guys put in a ton of work around here. They rarely get credit. We just wanted to say thanks.”

  “Great idea,” Luke replied.

  “She’s just over three hundred feet wide,” Morrow said, pointing side to side. “Almost seventy-five feet from top to bottom. Gives her a bulky look, but solid too. That’s actually four cannons on the top. Each tube can fire fore and aft, depending on targeting. Up here at the front is the command bridge and crew module. It detaches as an escape pod if necessary. On its own, the crew module is a large shuttle on steroids.”

  “So why such a big disc then?” Luke asked. “What’s inside?”

  “Engines, of course, and the generators. The AI is in the center section. But the rest is all replicator sludge.” Morrow nodded at Evan, his weapons engineer, to continue.

  “Commander,” Evan said. “The system uses the replicator slurry to manufacture ammunition. Each projectile is five feet long and four feet wide, giving it a volume of a little over sixty cubic feet, or about five hundred gallons. That’s a rather large round, exceptionally so by historical standards. For example, World War II ships used sixteen-inch rounds, but they were inaccurate. Current US navy guns are more precise but are only about six inches.”

  “So what’s the difference?” Luke asked.

  “The big difference is that our accuracy, projectile mass, and muzzle velocity are far beyond anything ever seen. Our projectiles are composed of depleted uranium. Combine that with a muzzle velocity of a million meters per second and you get quite an impact.”

  Luke was impressed. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said.

  Evan continued, “The rounds themselves are chambered by specially designed replicators in the center of each tube.”

  “So you manufacture the rounds in the barrel ready to fire?”

  “Exactly. The slug is a super-heavy material and the inside of each one contains a solid core of lithium deuteride. Depending on the density of the enemy’s hull, the projectile should tear right through it. If the target point is sufficiently solid, the heat and compression from the impact will result in a nuclear detonation. Our reload system will fire two volleys per second. It’s a limitation of the replicator.”

  “Why not have the projectiles prepared beforehand for a faster rate of fire?” Luke suggested.

  “Fewer moving parts,” Evan replied. “We assume the ship will be operating in combat conditions. It is possible that under the stress of a high-speed engagement, the linkages necessary to move the projectiles could result in a mechanical failure. In this fashion, the only moving part is the actual slug as it leaves the barrel. The projectiles are fired by maximally powered gravity plates. They generate two hundred thousand gees for one second. About half a second is transferred to the projectile itself.”

  “Doesn’t that push the ship around?” Luke asked.

  “All four barrels fire on each command. That creates offsetting forces so the effect on the ship itself is neutralized. Typically, only two of the barrels are loaded at any one time. Each volley fires two rounds forward or two aft. Fully loaded, the ship has over one hundred thousand rounds.”

  Evan nodded to another engineer who continued the narration. “Commander, the fire control system is effective in-system only against targets that are moving at sub-light speeds. As we’ve discussed in the past, our detection ability still does not allow us to engage targets that are moving faster than light. Also, if an enemy ship is moving in anything other than a straight line, the probability of kill is very low. We would not be likely to score a hit, other than by luck. The reason is that targeting calculations for a Bakkui ship maneuvering at near light speed in a curvilinear plane are simply not possible even for our AIs.”

  “Got it,” Luke said. “We’ve talked about that in the past. I don’t see any way around it. But it sounds like you’ve got basic in-system engagements figured out.”

  “Yes sir. The ship’s captain only has to designate the desired targets, which are displayed on any of the viewscreens on the bridge and the AI takes over. We’ve tested prototypes of the fire control system against target drones with excellent results. During the firing process, our AI maneuvers the ship using directional gravity drives placed throughout the hull. They are highlighted as you can see on this simulation.”

  Luke saw over a dozen gravity plates built into the disc. The ship’s AI would have the ability to target by pointing the large cannons on its back to the enemy’s projected location.

  Morrow took over the briefing. “A crew of twelve live in the forward module, although in a pinch, just the captain and the AI could engage in battle. The remaining positions on the bridge are mainly for monitoring the threat screens and assisting with analysis. There is also a communications station.”

  Luke pointed to the front portion of the module. “Is that a window?”

  “That’s correct,” Morrow replied. “It covers almost the entire width of the bridge providing an unrestricted view in front of the warship. I’ve built a lot of ships, boss. This will be a comfortable assignment for periods of up to half a year. The crew module has all the amenities and extends into the main disc when not in combat. That’s a half-size gymnasium there in the middle.”

  “What about the AI in emergencies?”

  “If the ship is seriously damaged to the extent the crew module jettisons, the AI within the disc, and the disc itself, self-destructs. Same thing applies to the crew module AI, which is a subset of the main AI. If the module is in any danger of capture, it will self-destruct and the crew will be lost.”

  “Let’s hope it never comes to that,” Luke said.

  “Amen to that, Commander.”

  “I am really impressed.” Luke smiled at the team of engineers. “This looks great and you guys have done an awesome job. I can’t think of anything to add. Let’s go into production.”

  Luke heard the collective sigh of relief from the engineers. He shook hands with Morrow and left the conference room. They were making progress.

  # # #

  Three days later Luke stood with Morrow and Roth on the construction tarmac outside the Far Side hangar. A second large-scale replicator had been completed and its first product was in the final stage of shimmering into existence. It had taken almost a full day to create the warship.

  “Her name is Ching Shih.” Morrow said proudly. “I named her after a famous pirate from the nineteenth century.”

  “Can we go on board?” Luke asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  The three men, with a contingent of engineers and the Ching Shih’s officers, approached the combat ship. As they neared, a wide door opened along the base of her hull. The entry was framed by the standard force field, keeping the interior airtight and livable. A small boarding ramp slid out, providing access to the interior. Inside the space was brightly lit and comfortably warm.

  As they came into the entry bay area a velvety female voice spoke. “Welcome aboard, Commander; Captain.”

  A young officer Luke knew as Joe Brady stepped forward to stand next to Luke. “Thank you, Shih. Welcome to the fleet. May I present your officers?”

  “Of course,” Shih responded.

  Luke could have sworn he heard a bit of wryness in her voice. She was already familiar with the details of everyone in the group, the information having been supplied by George during her creation. Shih’s AI was on par with the Demeter, which meant she was not quite as capable as George himself. But to her crew, the difference would never be noticed.

  For thirty minutes the group toured the ship. Hundreds of details reflected the effort that had gone into the design, from grab bars in just the right locations t
o the luxurious crew quarters, equipped with comfortable furnishings and private kitchenettes.

  The small gymnasium had a weight room and three treadmills for those inclined to exercise. The command bridge featured several battle stations curved in front of the captain’s chair.

  Luke summed up the feelings for everyone. “You’ve got a winner, here. It’s the start of our space navy.”

  # # #

  An hour later Luke sat in the living room of his quarters at Moonbase to review the day’s events with Roth and Morrow. Annie had not arrived from her activities on Earth.

  “I’m impressed with your new ship,” Luke said. “Let’s go to full production. How many for the first run?”

  “I can put out a couple a week,” Morrow estimated. “That allows time for flight testing. Give me more people and we can increase that.”

  “That’s the real question,” Roth said. “Even with all our recruiting, the number of people that we’re bringing in each week is starting to taper off. We were hoping the new recruiting centers would increase that number. And it did a little, but not what we were expecting. Right now, we’re still replacing the Mars colonists. That means most of our inbounds are dedicated to infrastructure and support.”

  Morrow agreed. “And we’ve got the university established now over in Far Side. Seems like every single day they want some kind of new toy. To keep them happy, we need to start making some purchases from places like Lockheed and GE. George can do a lot for us, but he needs access to some of those technical specs. I’m not exactly sure what that means in additional requirements. But bottom line is that our current recruiting provides us with enough new people to add two crew complements a week.”

  “That’s good news,” Luke said. “I like the idea of getting some warships out into the solar system just in case. That reminds me; we haven’t established any firm rules of engagement. We need to get that nailed down quickly. And we need to formally establish our military arm. Right now I feel like we’re just a bunch of gentlemen adventurers going along by the seat of our pants.”

  “There’s another thing that’s coming up fast,” Roth said. “We’re only about sixty days away from the expiration of our first employment contracts. You keep reminding me that if even one person exercises their option to go back it means the lid comes off. Everyone on Earth will know about us. I told Amanda Carlson to create a marketing and PR department. She’s hiring reporters and copywriters. Soon we will have our own newspaper and TV station.”