Microsoft word wa book.., p.21
Microsoft Word - WA_Book_11.rtf, page 21
failure.”
She walked him through the schematic. Alkema
indicated a new augmentation on the side of the reactor
dome. “What is this L-Shaped device here.”
Toto explained in exaggeratedly grave tone. “That is
the L-Unit. It is a very important unit.”
Alkema asked, seriously, “What does it do?”
Toto brought up a schematic of the Unit emitting a
burst of Quantum Energy, causing the ship to vanish. “It
enables the Graviton Engines to Quantum Jump the ship.
Without it, quantum jump is but the fevered dream of a
madman.”
Toto tittered at this and Alkema chuckled with her,
adding, “Once again, all this effort seems like a waste of
resources to be upgrading the Aves. Most of them are
bound to become museum pieces, or transport systems
for backwater colonies6.”
Toto agreed. “I guess it has something to do with
transport regulations. Aves-class ships have to be
equipped with emergency jump systems in order to
transit through Civilized Space. Speaking of which,
what’s the deal with the Nemesis warheads?”
Alkema frowned. “They apparently have to be
destroyed. Pegasus will not be permitted to transit
6 In fact, Bodicéa was already preparing a bid for twenty of the Aves to service the Gethsemane Island Colony. Alkema knew this.
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through the Perseus sector with massive anti-matter
weapons on board.”
Toto asked, “Why?”
“Something to do with a Disarmament Treaty made
after the First Aurelian War,” Alkema continued. “I have
put forth a proposal that we simply detonate the
warheads. That would efficiently destroy them.”
Toto shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know if I would do
that. The components of those warheads are still useful.
Their carrier vehicles could be salvaged for spare parts
for the Aves and Shrieks. And the Anti-matter generators
could supply the power for entire planets. What a
waste.”
Blade Toto, Hardcandy’s husband, sauntered casually
into the lab at that moment and wrapped his arm around
his wife. “Hello, Beautiful.” Blade had held up pretty
well during the long journey. He was a little fuller in the
face and the waist, but his face retained some of his dark,
boyish charm.
“Hey, pumpkin,” she replied.
“I’m bored,” He sighed. “The DP (Doom Patrol) is
punching out to clear the Hangar for the refit. Would you
like to spend some time on the Lock with me?”
She thought about it. “Let me finish my
recommendations to the refit team and I’ll grab a bag.”
“Tight,” Toto agreed. He winked at Alkema. “My
wife is some kind of woman, isn’t she?”
Alkema awkwardly agreed. “She is at that.”
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A little crooked smile came to Toto’s lips. “She likes
you, you know. She likes you a lot. It’s perfectly level,
though. I like you, too. You’ve always been a good guy.”
Alkema tapped his datapad. “I’ll take the quantum
jump refit reports to Commander Change, I’m headed
that way now.”
Toto chuckled, as though conceding Alkema’s right
to play coy. “All right, do what it is you must do, my
friend. Tell me, is it true Commander Change has been
missing duty shifts?”
Alkema offered the preferred explanation. “She is
trying to rotate more of the officers through command
watch, so they will have better prospects when they
transfer into the fleet.”
Hardcandy Toto shook her head. “That isn’t what I
have heard.”
“What have you heard?” Alkema asked.
“One rumor says she’s already accepted an offer to
become General Fleet Administrator for the Mining
Guild,” Hardcandy reported. “Lt. Technician Shanks is
telling the people in Telemetry Core that she’s going to
step aside and put Warmaster Kitaen in command.
There’s also a rumor that she is pregnant.”
Alkema persisted. “I will abide by her official
explanation, as I have no basis for questioning it.”
Before he had finished speaking, his COM Link
chirped. “Lt. Commander Alkema, this is Specialist Brae
on Secondary Bridge. The Ship’s Watch has just been
dispatched to dispel a disturbance in Little Gethsemane.
Deck 16, Section K, Theater 1.”
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Alkema acknowledged the report. “I’ll be en route.
You’ll have to excuse me, Lt. Scientist Toto.”
“Join me for a drink later?” she asked.
“Maybe,” Alkema answered, as he made for the
transport dock.
Pe
P gas
a us - Deck
c
k 16
1 /
/ S
ect
c i
t on
o K
Lt. Alkema entered the theater to a scene of shouting
and chaos. A swarm of ship’s watch in their
checkerboard-trim jackets were trying to restore order
amid a mass of angry and shouting people. They had
positioned themselves in a line between the Gethsemane
Civic Councilors on the stage and a crowd of angry
Gethsemanians in the seats.
The leader of the protesters was pressing against the
line of cops and shouting at the Councilors, “We don’t
want to leave. This ship is our home.”
His shout was met with cheers and handclaps from
his supporters, and a chorus of boos from an equally
worked-up group of Gethsemanians who disagreed.
Pieta answered him right back with fire and spit,
“You’re living in a converted cargo bay. What kind of
home is that?” The boors and clappers reversed
themselves in answering her.
“It’s my home!” the protester answered, to a round of
cheers from those around him.
“You will have a new home on Bodicéa!” another
Councilor insisted.
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“Or Bountiful,” said a woman Alkema recognized
from the adverts, but her response was drowned out at
each partisans for both sides shouted out in dissonance.
The crowd pressed against the Watch, the Watch pressed
back.
Alkema sought out the Lead Watchman, which was
usually the guy with the biggest hat. After asking a
couple of the Watchmen holding the line he was directed
to an adjacent corridor, where a smaller group of
Watchmen was overseeing several men and women who
had been cuffed and removed from the theater. The Lead
Watchman was monitoring events through his COM
Link, and had just acknowledged that reinforcements
were on their way to take the prisoners to the Detention
Cells.
“What’s going on?” Alkema asked the Lead
Watchman.
The Lead Watchman shrugged slightly, as though it
were no big deal, and told Alkema. “There was a lively
debate that devolved quickly into a physical
confrontation. One of my men was injured in the fracas.”
Alkema could almost hear Keeler say, “And if you’ve
ever had an injured fracas, you know how painful that
can be.”
“I think we have this under control, Lieutenant
Commander,” the leader of the Watch assured him.
Alkema nodded. “Very well. Prepare a report for the
Command Core when you have the time. Make sure to
include the names of the men you round up.”
“Of course, Lieutenant Commander.”
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He wondered if he should try and talk to Pieta, but he
saw that she was in an intense conversation with a
woman he did not recognize at first because her head
was leaned into his wife’s. Only when she straightened it
up did he realize it was Averill Lear, the diplomatic aide.
Doubtless, she was sharing political advice with Pieta. He
would not need to interrupt this, nor would it be
advisable.
Pe
P gas
a us – Inhab
a ita
t ti
t on Deck
c s
k
As it lay between Little Gethsemane and the Main
Bridge, Alkema took a transport the short distance to
Change’s Quarters.
Despite her elevation to command, she had never
relocated from her Spartan quarters among the junior
officers on Deck 24 for more comfortable digs on Deck 22.
Her quarters consisted of a large rectangle with two
smaller rectangles for personal storage and a hygiene
pod. In her many years on the ship, Change had
accumulated almost nothing to personalize her living
space. Most of the crew had a souvenir or a knick-knack
from one of the worlds they had visited, or holo-images
to project on their walls. Alkema’s quarters had devoted
an entire wall of shelves to displaying their treasures,
which included a statue from Independence, a crystal
shard from Winter, a vase and plant-life from their
honeymoon on Ecco 1, and a long, tapered cylinder from
Aurora that vibrated when touched. (Pieta used it as a
“back massager.”)
Change’s quarters, as revealed when the hatch slid
open, were a simple white chamber with a bed, a couch,
and a table-desk. Change was sitting at the desk and
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General Kitaen at the couch when Alkema entered.
Kitaen was shirtless, but that really didn’t mean
anything. Change looked as well-kept as she always did,
and she was in full uniform despite being on her own
time in her own quarters.
Alkema handed her the datapad. “Here are the final
schematics for the systems refit to the Aves. Once you
have a chance to review them, the plan is to release them
to Flight Core so they can begin ship prep.”
With the barest perfunctory glance, she announced.
“Approved. Thank you. You are dismissed.”
He took back the datapad. He felt an urge to ask her
what was going on, if something was wrong, why she
was so withdrawn… but he felt a stronger urge not to.
With a quick nod and acknowledgement, he was out of
her quarters.
Alkema was halfway down the corridor when
something made him turn around. He turned back to see
General Kitaen standing outside the entry to Change’s
suite. With a slight movement of his head, he indicated
that Alkema should come and stand before him.
Kitaen spoke. “You are wondering why the
Commander has seemed so detached of late.”
Alkema admitted that this was true. “I’m not alone.
The crew has noticed.”
Kitaen cut off that line of talk. “I am not concerned
with what the crew has noticed.”
Alkema countered him, “I am.”
Kitaen continued, “Our captain is a Navigator, a
precognitive. She can perceive events before they
happen, and she is troubled.”
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“Troubled?” Alkema prompted.
But Kitaen spoke over him, “She dreams of a burning
circle. She runs away from it, but a great black cloud
appears and she is set upon by flocks of large black birds.
They swoop at her, pecking at her. As she runs from
them, she leaps into the sky and transforms into a great
white bird.”
Alkema waited until he was sure Kitaen was done
talking. “What does it mean?”
Kitaen shook his head. “I don’t know, but it vexes her
profoundly. She believes it to be a dream of death.”
Alkema scowled. “She thinks she is going to die.”
Kitaen hesitated, and gave Alkema a strong look as
though measuring him before deciding to provide an
answer. “She believes it is a dream of death, but not just
hers. She thinks the dream may portend that we are all
going to die before we return to Sapphire.”
Alkema asked him. “Is that what you think the dream
means?”
Kitaen was evasive. “I cannot be certain. I have
always felt that some greater destiny lay ahead for this
ship; a great battle for which I and my men have trained
these long years. But I am not precognitive.
Alkema asked him, “Why are you telling me this?”
Kitaen conveyed dead seriousness to him. “Because
you know enough to put this information in its proper
place. You will keep the speculations of the crew to a
minimum. And you will protect your captain.
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Pe
P gas
a us –Tu
T beway
An Advert was playing in the transport Alkema took
to the Main Bridge.
Bountiful Welcomes You
Opening Montage of landscapes, beginning with a
desert vista painted in color before a sun that
crests the horizon, followed by ocean surf pounding
towering rocks beneath a sky dominated by the
bands of a colorful gas giant, followed by thick
green forest and a city built into and among the
trees, followed by a view of great canyons of
golden cliffs and rocks, an image of a milkbeast
munching blue grass beneath a purple sky. Then,
flower petals fall like snowflakes over a playground
where children laugh, and then a sweep across a
plain of dark grassy hills rolling beneath a golden
sky, and finally, it come to a majestic city where
tall, pointy skyscrapers reach for the sky against a
backdrop of sharp-angled mountain ranges. All of
which was accompanied by stirring choir music.
Voice Over, female: The Bountiful System has nine
worlds to welcome you. Gideon, known for its
expansive skies and beautiful sunrises. Gabriel, of
the mighty forests, mountains, and seas. Deseret,
the desert world where life abounds in the valleys
and canyons around its warm black seas. The
moon Canaan, blessed with warmth and water and
good, rich soil. Alma, the moon known for its wide
open spaces, its cattle ranches, and fields of grain.
Chaldea, renowned for its steaming rainforests.
The Moon Moab, a warm desert on its sunlight
face, a winter wonderland on its dark side.
Columba Zion, a mighty world whose deep blue
seas are dotted with ten thousand wonderful
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islands. And of course, the home planet of
Bountiful Prime, a world of cities, and faith, and
commerce.
Whatever life you desire, the Bountiful System has
a home for you. All Gethsemane refugees are
welcome in the Bountiful System.
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W O R L D S A P A R T B O O K E L E V E N : C H A R L E M A G N E
CHA
H PTE
T R
R NIN
I E
A pair of large, ugly ships, each towing an even larger and uglier
space-barge, exited the Starlock. Galactic Condor and Space
Vulture were Cathartidae- class salvage and repair vessels. They were independently operated and contracted to the New
Commonwealth, the Free Worlds Alliance, or anyone else
depending on who needed them. They were brutally utilitarian
vessels; giant space docks constructed of big slabs of metal
knocked together without any consideration of aesthetics or
streamlining (neither of which were essential to their function)
with bulky Graviton-Drives bolted underneath. The barges they
