Alien Enigma (10 page)

"Okay, here's the skinny. Suppose we don't make it back. It's rare but ships do go missing. Also suppose the crew survives whatever happens. Do we have any provisions for colonizing?"

Watkins rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. "I believe most interstellar space ships now include a basic allotment of farming implements and terrestrial seed stock as well as frozen embryos of some food animals and ...dogs, cats and a couple of other domestic companions, including the carpet cats from Wiggins World." He paused and wrinkles appeared across his forehead.

"So we're in good shape?" asked the XO.

More wrinkles appeared as Watkins thought seriously about the subject. "However, being
Doc Travis
is strictly designed as a war ship I wouldn't be surprised if that particular provision was overlooked. I'll take care of it."

Cindy nodded but there was more. "How about provisions for babies and children? Teaching materials, history books and so on? Whatever survey ships carry?"

"I'll take care of it, ma'am," he repeated. "Good thought. Damned good thought."

As he left she was glad it had occurred to her, too. Probably it wouldn't be necessary. More likely they would either come back or be killed but it was always best to consider all the possible contingencies. That was the essence of the military and one of the essentials that separated military thinking from civilian.

***

Brian was immediately put to work by Captain Keane. He spent all his days and many nights before launch checking the interfaces of the new weaponry with the original specifications for power outflow, gravitational settings and electronic synchronization associated with all three. He got practically no sleep, ate on the run and spent what seemed an inordinate amount of time on his hands and knees crawling around well-nigh inaccessible cubby holes where power cords seemed to grow and multiply in their dark abodes. At the present time he was sitting off by himself at a table in the officer's lounge trying to make sense of a particularly puzzling addition to one of the gravitic capacitor couplings.

He was amazed at the work and ingenuity that had gone into re-arming
Doc Travis
after the Navy had taken delivery. The pulse cannon and ECM systems were completely new to him, although he did have an extensive background on outfitting lasers to draw power from the excess flow of the quantum drive and its backup, but the new, much more powerful ones aboard
Doc Travis
staggered him
.
He had seen theoretical models of pulse cannons but thought them years away from application, which told him just how brilliant the men and women in DARPA were.

Even the meteor shield required hitting the operational manuals far into the night to see how it had been upgraded without reducing power drawn from thrust while underway. Only the rail guns were relatively simple but even those were much more powerful than what he'd seen anywhere else. All those systems drawing power from the quantum drive while still allowing it to push the ship twice as fast as the older models made him shake his weary head and wish he could have had more time to work with them before launch.

"You look weary, Brian," Fred Jergens commented as he sat down beside him the day before launch. "Anything I can help you with other than providing sustenance for that starved look you're carrying around?"

"Bless you, Fred," he said, picking up one of the chicken salad sandwiches Jergens brought. "You probably can help a bit later. Right now I'm just trying to absorb the basics of the new systems. You guys have done some magnificent upgrades on my ship." He noted that the electronics design engineer was sporting a much shorter haircut than the last time he'd seen him. "Hey, I see you got your ears lowered."

Jergens face colored slightly. "Captain Keane made a gentle suggestion."

Brian managed a laugh, tired as he was. "I suspect it wasn't all that gentle."

"Well ...let's just say I was told by Chief Mura I had an appointment with a barber at 0800 this morning and that the Captain was planning on having a trim done at the same time. I took the hint." He ran his hands through his shock of considerably shortened and thinned hair. "Have you met everyone now?"

"Most of the ones I'll be working with," Brian said. "Say, I talked to the crew of one of the assault shuttles. Now that's a real innovation. I guess you were the one responsible for squeezing the stealth and ECM into them, huh?"

"Yeah. That was my sneaky little hands, or brains rather. Of course, I did have to get my dainty little fingers dirty a few times, but it was worth it."

"I'll say. That Warrant Officer Hekstrom, Judy, I think her first name is, she's driving the one I looked at and she is one smart cookie. Even after the systems were installed and checked out she came up with a couple of new wrinkles. Now they can fire the wing guns at the same time as releasing their rockets. I wouldn't want to be one of their targets."

"They're Marines, and I heard they shipped some smart and crazy ones, if that's possible. Hell, even the captain's gone mad with weapons systems. I wouldn't want to be near anyone that pissed off Captain Keane while he's at the controls of
Doc Travis
." Jergens shivered theatrically.

"Let's hope the bad guys see it our way," Brian retorted. He finished the sandwich and his coffee then excused himself. "I've just got to grab a few hours sleep before launch. See you then, if I can finagle an excuse for not being at dinner with the Skipper."

***

Captain Trent Keane was almost trembling with pleasure and excitement as
Doc Travis
prepared for launch. He had not yet taken the captain's seat. He was too full of nervous expectancy at finally being ready to begin their mission. He had finished briefing his officers after the ship was sealed off from extraneous communication. In the interests of security, the only contact with ground control now was through the launch director, and then only if necessary.

"All control room sections report," he said.
Too loud
? No, just about right, because heads hadn't snapped around.

"Gravitics ready. Internal gravity on line, set for one G," Lieutenant Evonne White, the tall blond gravitics specialist and monitoring officer said. "Synchronized with external gravity, ready for launch."

"Internal environment optimum. No atmospheric leaks. Internal air at Earth normal. Hatches sealed," Lieutenant Commander Han Nguyen reported for his department.

"Weapons safed," Commander June Mundahan, the dark buxom weapons officer said from her alcove.

"Engineering ready. Quantum drive on line. Drive intersected with gravitic capacitor. All hatches show green for sealed," Lt. Commander William Levy announced.

"Astrogation parameters set and double checked by Chief Astrogator Mannheim. Helmsman ready," Lieutenant Anita Chavez, the assistant astrogator and helmsman said. The chief astrogator was monitoring from a secondary site in the ship.

"Weapons secure. Personnel secure and all accounted for. Environment secure. Engineering on line. All systems nominal. Ready for launch," Commander Dunaway completed the census as executive officer, his voice so calm that anyone listening from outside might have thought they were launching a rowboat instead of an interstellar starship. With Dunaway's deep blue eyes and grey-white eyebrows and hair, he easily looked the part of an extremely able XO.

Keane took a deep breath. "Astrogator, start the clock. Integrate with computer launch parameters."

Lieutenant Chavez toggled off the safety switch, flipped the lid hiding the controls out of the way and pressed the icon to begin the long voyage. "Launch programming initiated," she said. She had a pleasing Hispanic melody to her voice.

From one of the alcoves in back of the arc of control consoles, Chief Petty Officer Boris O'Neal glared at the Lieutenant. Captain Keane caught it and chuckled silently to himself. It was O'Neal's first interstellar slot. On wet navy boats the helmsman would have been an enlisted Chief Petty Officer. He could see how much O'Neal resented being relegated to the assistant's berth by the expression on his face.

The launch computer began counting down, giving everyone time to sit if they weren't already and to engage their safety harnesses.

It seemed hardly any time until Keane was hearing the last seconds being read off. " ...eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, launch."

Having been out before, Keane knew there would be very little sense of movement. It amused him to watch the reaction of the two neophytes. Whatever they were expecting, he saw surprise and puzzlement. He knew they were wondering if something had gone wrong and
Doc Travis
failed to launch.

"All launch parameters nominal," Chavez announced.

From his seat, Keane watched the view recorded by outside cameras. Earth rapidly became discernible as a globe by the curve of the horizon. The ship rose just fast enough not to heat up its hull, providing a spectacular scene for the crew. He knew that all hands not occupied with other duties tried to be in a position to see the Earth before its appearance grew too small to be significant. It would be their last sight of the home world for a long time, perhaps forever.

Chapter Seven: Bug Eyed Monsters

Dr. McCoy: "Please, Spock, do me a favor and don't say it's 'fascinating'."

Spock: "No, but it is... interesting."

"Attention on deck!" Sergeant Watkins said loudly, bringing all 613 marines to their feet, including the officers.

"At ease," Major Steel Rambling said as he entered, trailed closely by Captain Cindy Cantrell. The movie theatre, which also served as seating for observers of sports events, was the only place in the ship large enough to accommodate all the marines at once. Most of them were already seated or standing behind the last row of chairs. He could have given his talk through their personal comps. Most civilians carried their comps as a necklace or wristband but marines imbedded theirs into the tissue of their forearms, keeping it out of the way but ready during combat. Regardless of how he could have handled it, he wanted to see the whole rump battalion in person and let them get a reading of him while he did the same in reverse. The hurried advance of the launch had prevented him from gathering them dirtside because most of them had been extremely busy with combat loading and other last minute duties. He waited until all were seated and the scuffling and murmurs had died away.

"Good afternoon, Marines. Thank you for attending." He paused for the inevitable laugh. No marine would be stupid enough to refuse an order to be there from their commanding officer. The pause also was purposeful so they could get a good look at him. He was tall and muscular, with a face that wasn't handsome but which drew attention for its composed countenance and lack of smile lines. When he did occasionally let himself go, as now, it changed his appearance into that of a tall genial man, but one that still maintained a lethal command visage just below the surface. "Now that we're all here together and the ship is under way, I'm going to pass on a bit of intelligence to you. I know you've been waiting and wondering where we're going, haven't you?"

"Oorah!" they bellowed.

"Right. I have too, for that matter." That drew another laugh that he paused to let die before becoming serious. "
Doc Travis
is not only the finest ship in the United States Navy, it is by far the biggest and the best armed. Furthermore, it has the best crew ever assembled for an interstellar voyage. They are all volunteers, just like you. The only two persons in this ship who were ordered to go with it are Captain Keane and myself, but that's only because we got our orders before we had a chance to volunteer.

"All of you were told you would be going on a dangerous mission when you volunteered. Since I now know what it involves I'll let you in on it, too. We're headed to the Bolt Cluster, an area of close to a thousand stars relatively close together but rather farther from Earth than surveys have gotten yet. It is the cluster where four interstellar space ships have disappeared without a trace. It will be our job to find out why and take steps to prevent it from happening again.

"You have probably guessed that since there are far more marines on board than normally are sent with a star ship, you can anticipate ground action. It is possible that you may, but the fact is, we have no idea what has caused those ships to vanish. It might be the particular planet they landed on but it also could be a previously unknown astronomical phenomena operating close to the planet of our destination. It might be hostile BEMS. For the uninitiated, the acronym refers to Bug Eyed Monsters. Aliens, if you will. We simply don't know. All I can tell you is to keep your battle rattle in top condition and listen to your sergeants and officers because we shall be investigating an alien city on the planet near where the other ships vanished. Here is a recording of what little we know about it."

The lights dimmed and the marines were subjected to the same view Keane and his officers had already seen.

"Now you know about as much as anyone else aboard. The captain has told me that the voyage to the Bolt Cluster normally takes about six months, but I suspect the actual length will be determined by Captain Keane's observations as we close in on the cluster or arrive there and begin snooping around. Whatever Captain Keane decides to do or how he decides to approach the problem of a presumably dangerous alien city, I know I can count on you men and women for one simple reason: you are
Marines
, the finest fighting force in existence!"

"Oorah!" The massed chorus was almost loud enough to break ear drums.

"Right. Bullshit is for politicians and civilians. We take over after their bullshit has made us necessary to correct their errors. Attend me now. Whatever happens, we shall maintain discipline and conduct ourselves as a fighting force second to none. This is perhaps the most important mission since
Wannstead Industries
provided the ships to open up the galaxy for exploration. I expect you to conduct yourselves as Marines at all times, under the best and the worst of circumstances. Executive officer Cantrell and First Sergeant Watkins will now entertain questions and shall answer them to the best of their ability."