Henry Gallant Saga 2: Lieutenant Henry Gallant (17 page)

Overall the town of Hallo enjoyed stable warm tropical weather year-round. Housing construction used low-pitched roofs with overhanging eaves to improve air flow and ventilation. The foundations were heavily reinforced with rebar because of frequent earthquakes accompanying the nearby volcanoes. Bugs, birds, and rodent infestations, along with large temperature changes from day to night, were frequent problems for the local residents.

The Hepburn house was pleasing to the eye. It was a simple two-story structure with a spacious floor plan. The windows and doors were left open for improved air circulation. The house was painted a pleasant pale green with dark green eaves and window frames. The landscaping was well kept, and the vegetation was cut away from the house to avoid a buildup of dead material. White, yellow, and green flowers and plants adorned the walkways around the house.

Inside the furniture was simple but attractive and comfortable.

Gallant had been impressed with Hepburns’ home when he had visited it previously and he expected to enjoy a relaxed visit this evening, but that was not to be the case.

He had come to draw on Alaina’s grandfather’s vast asteroid mining AI control systems experience to learn how to improve the efficiency of the UP mining and manufacturing operations here on Elysium. However, James Hepburn’s cold reception was unexpected.

The professor sat in his living room, frowning.

Hepburn’s words were harsh and vitriolic as he lashed out. “Why are you arming Wolfe? Before you came, Wolfe’s Special Security Police had only a few crude revolvers. Now they’re walking around with laser handguns and plasma rifles. You’re undermining our people’s rights. We want a democracy on Elysium, not a dictatorship. I demand you stop immediately.”

Gallant took his most diplomatic posture. “My commanding officer has approved the agreement with President Wolfe. In return for the rights and assistance to mine and manufacture equipment to refit our ship, we’ve agreed to provide a limited number of small arms weapons. It was our understanding they would be used for the defense and protection of Elysium’s population. I also was informed this was agreed to by the Elysium Council and a plebiscite would be held as soon as possible to ratify it.”

“A plebiscite—what a farce! Like all the so-called elections we have held.” Hepburn was livid, his fists clenched. “You must not give Wolfe more guns. If you allow us time, we can organize a town meeting of Elysium citizens to discuss providing access to the heavy metals you desire without this appalling arrangement.”

“We don’t have the luxury of time.” Gallant crossed his arms. “The Titans are a serious threat. We can’t sit idle while you resolve your internal politics. We must refit our ship and prepare for battle.”

Hepburn faced away from Gallant, collecting himself, unclenching his fists. “True. True. I can’t expect you to take my concerns seriously while you have other worries—different priorities.”

“I’m sorry.” He waited to see if Hepburn would ask him to leave.

After several minutes of silence, Hepburn said, “Very well. I can see this is beyond the simple powers of persuasion of a single man, council member or not. But you came to ask about the mining and manufacturing operation, didn’t you? I have looked over the planned layout and the equipment assignments you sent over earlier. Here are my notes and suggestions for the AI control systems and software.”

“Thank you, Professor. I appreciate your insights.”

“You appreciate my insights on building a mining operation but not my insights on building a society.” He sighed. “You’re young. It may take time for you to understand where your responsibilities lie.”

Gallant stirred, troubled.

“Was there anything else?”

“Professor, what can you tell me about the planetary force field Wolfe controls? Did he build it? Was there a design and construction team? What’s its power source?”

“Humph,” said Hepburn. “He didn’t design anything. He didn’t build anything either.”

Thinking of the ancient technology in the ruins, Gallant asked, “Who did?”

Hepburn said, “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to look for answers elsewhere.”

Wolfe’s large three-story brick home was situated on a bluff overlooking Hallo. It was the largest house in the colony, with wood-carved eaves and a huge manicured lawn. A three-meter-high fence surrounded the property with a winding stone-paved walkway extending from the street entrance gate to the front door.

An armed SSP guard was stationed at the main gate. When Gallant approached, the guard opened the gate without saying a word. Gallant walked along the path to the front door, which swung open as he stepped on the top step. All the windows and doors were closed tight, but the entire building was air conditioned and the temperature was a comfortable twenty-two degrees Celsius.

A second SSP guard appeared and led Gallant to the ornate library, where a single large mahogany desk dominated the center of the room, behind which a comfortable-looking lounge chair overflowed with Wolfe’s large body.

Once more Gallant was disturbed by the greeting he encountered.

“I gave you my word and I delivered. I’ve given you access to mines near the volcano, along with all the men and equipment we could spare. What have you done for me?” demanded Wolfe.

“We’ve delivered the rifles and handguns as per our agreement, but we won’t provide heavy plasma cannon until after the mining operation has been completed. As for the nuclear reactor construction, we will have to wait until we can manufacture the necessary parts.”

“That was not my understanding,” said Wolfe, working his jaw up and down.

“That’s the way it’s going to be,” said Gallant, nonchalantly.

Wolfe drummed his finger on his desk for a minute as if examining his quarry for a better angle of attack. He stood up and pointed to a painting behind his desk. It showed a large house on the side of a mountain.
“The Wolfe family has a huge mountain estate, but I prefer staying in this modest house so I can be close to my constituents.” He pointed to several other paintings on the walls. “The largest factory and the largest farm are also part of the Wolfe estates.”

He waived to the SSP guard standing behind Gallant.

The man stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Wolfe fixed a wry smile on his face. “I trust your stay has improved since the nasty incident in the jungle? You must tell me all the details of the dreadful event, later, when we have completed our meeting.” He winked at Gallant, as if signaling a secret understanding between them.

Gallant didn’t respond. Wolfe was the type to dismiss detailed description of events as the concerns of others. Only things relevant to Wolfe were worthy of his time.

“It’s been my experience with young idealists that—no matter what lies you tell yourself—in the end you’re out for yourself,” said Wolfe, fixing his stare squarely at Gallant.

Gallant shook his head.
What a character.

“I hope you will trust me to continue to meet our commitments. I already gave you my word.”

What’s that worth? The politics of this colony is already fractured.

Wolfe tugged at the sleeve of his jacket as if trying to cover his oversized bulk.

“Likewise, the people of Elysium are expecting you to meet your commitments,” Wolfe added.

Gallant nodded, realizing the population might hold more diverse opinions.

“Your little display of the United Planets’ brave rescue of Elysium—fighting off the threatening Titans, saving the long-lost colonists—has gained the favor of some. But you and I know you didn’t come here to rescue us. You were as shocked as we were when you discovered us.”

Gallant leaned forward. “Are you concerned your domination of these people could slip? Is that why you are so careful to not throw me in prison, despite your disappointment in my performance?”

“Lives depend on order and stability. The temperament of a population must be carefully measured to avoid unpleasant events and outcomes. You’ve introduced a random element into our society, and who knows what can happen? Our entire system could be under threat.”

“It must be a fragile system if a few days visit from a traveler can disrupt it so completely.”

“It’s fragile, if left unattended, but I am attending to it. I am.”

Gallant would have more to negotiate with Wolfe, but trying to iron out difficulties of personnel and supplies wouldn’t be easy.

He shared intelligence on the Titan destroyer and his general plan for its possible capture. He discussed subsequently turning the alien ship over to Wolfe’s men and training them.

“It will not be easy to refurbish such a ship for your use,” said Gallant.

Wolfe seemed uninterested in the Titan ship, which confirmed Gallant’s previous suspicion that Wolfe’s request to have the ship was a ruse.

Gallant changed the subject by asking, “Tell me how you developed the planetary force field. What’s its design? What’s its power source? Can we use any of its capabilities to defeat the Titans?”

“Ah. I see we’ve another scene to play out, don’t we? I’m not prepared to reveal that information yet. If you’ll excuse me, I have other business I must attend to. Good day, Lieutenant Gallant,” said Wolfe, standing to dismiss him.

They exchanged a macho grip-fest handshake—each tried to out-tough the other.

Finally Gallant left.

In a prime corner of Hallo, a small well-landscaped verdant strip called Freedom Park catered to the town’s social, and more collaborative, citizens. In the center of the park was a monument dedicated to those taken by the Titans—a statue of Cyrus Wolfe, his arms extended as if he were gathering everyone to his bosom—along with several posted signs, presumably indications of protests, or dissensions over local issues involving housing and government services.

One day after his vexing meetings with Hepburn and Wolfe, Gallant wandered into Freedom Park. A few dozen people and their children were strolling through, or lounging about, taking in the ambiance, having picnics, playing games, jogging, or sitting with rapt attention, enjoying the music of a strolling guitar player.

He wanted to learn more about the people of this estranged planet, but he was stopped short when he spied a familiar figure.

Alaina stood in the main courtyard, oblivious to her own stature, painting the portrait of a vivacious five-year-old child who was sitting on the grass playing with a small toy.

Approaching Alaina from behind, Gallant admired her figure—stately and beautiful—poised before an easel, paintbrush in her right hand, dabbing flesh tone color onto the cherubic expression of the little girl. Her long graceful brushstrokes captured the appealing vivid image of the child—compelling him to conclude Alaina was an exceptional artist.

He walked slowly, taking in the sight and stopping several meters behind her. In accordance with the sunny tropical weather, she was dressed in a pleasant flower print blouse and light blue pants highlighting her slender figure.

“Alaina?” His voice came close to her ear, giving her a start. “Alaina?”

She must have recognized his voice immediately because he was greeted with a stunning smile as she turned her head toward him.

“Henry.”

Flustered for the moment, she turned back to her painting and the posing child as if reluctant to break her rapport. After a final stab of paint, she pulled a cloth over the painting and set down her brush on her easel.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come up behind you like that,” said Gallant, begging for forgiveness, yet unrepentant.

“No, not at all. It was silly of me—my mind was far away,” she said. She did not change her stance or move about; she merely returned his gaze.

She was dressed so differently from their days in the jungle, and her demeanor was likewise so demure that he wondered,

Is this Alaina, or an impostor designed to confuse me, more than usual—if that were even possible?

Alaina cast an approving eye over Gallant’s newly tailored and sharply pressed uniform.

“I know that look,” Gallant said, reaching toward her and touching her shoulder.

“Oh,” she murmured.

“What’s this
strange magic
you have over men?”

“Why, what do you mean?” she asked innocently, pursing her sexy pouty lips.

Gallant laughed out loud at her pose.

“Well, individually, I will admit men can be something of a puzzle, but I find a solution after a bit.”

“And then what?”

“Why then I move on to something, or someone, more challenging of course.”

“Is that your plan for me? Dropping me because I’m no longer so different, or intriguing?”

“But, Henry, you’re so handsome in your uniform. I’ve always found you fascinating.”

Gallant was trying to sort out his own feelings. Despite his excitement to find Alaina, he wasn’t sure how this day would play out.

“I’m here to learn more about Elysium’s people,” Gallant explained. Suddenly he didn’t want to admit he had been hoping to see her despite his ostentatious excuse.

“You’re not looking for another adventure then?” she asked, her voice trailing off as she tilted her head slightly to one side, her questioning eyes growing wide, her body language exhibiting a curled tension.

Gallant hesitated—the question appeared superficially guileless—but he suspected if he plumbed its depths, he could find hidden meaning.

“Well, ah, . . . maybe, but, after our escapade in the jungle, I expected to find you—well, I guess I don’t know what I expected. But I didn’t expect to discover your artistic flare.”

“I’m here enjoying one of my favorite hobbies. I do have business to conduct later this afternoon, but I’m free for lunch, if you’re interested.”

Gallant was consciously watching her face while listening intently to her words. He enjoyed the pitch and sound of her articulation and was sufficiently distracted that he didn’t answer immediately.

“Well, are you interested?” she asked, apparently miffed he hadn’t jumped at the chance.

“And does your business occur after lunch?” he asked.