Henry Gallant Saga 2: Lieutenant Henry Gallant (26 page)

“Yes,” said Gallant as he got on his flyer.

“I’m coming with you. I can help,” she said.

“Alaina, it’s dangerous. You should wait here.”

“This is as much my fight as it is yours. I’m nominally a member of the Elysium Council when my grandfather is absent. I have a right and an obligation to challenge Wolfe’s authority and actions,” she said with her usual energetic zeal. “Besides have you ever known me to remain behind—waiting patiently?

He ran through a gambit of emotions from exasperation to appreciation. “I’m never going to win with you, am I?”

She flashed one of her dazzling smiles and hopped on the flyer behind him. Grabbing hold of his waist, she snuggled tight against him.

“Not likely,” she said.

As they flew over the earth at several hundred feet, Gallant and Alaina were buffeted by the cool night breeze. The clear panoramic sky exposed conglomerations of tiny specks of bright lights.

Gallant was able to pick out the speck that was
Intrepid.
He wondered which pin-point dot was the Titan destroyer. Alaina’s tight grip around his waist caused him mixed emotions.

Am I putting her in danger?
he wondered, yet he appreciated having her insight and judgment.

Flying with abandon at maximum speed, it was a short hop to the jungle ruins. When he set the flyer down, Gallant reluctantly left the containment bottle strapped to the satchel bag on his flyer.

The moonlight offered enough visibility for them to see as they set off at a brisk pace.

“Dragors,” said Alaina, pointing to fresh tracks alongside the trail of several large beasts.

“Keep your eyes open,” said Gallant, hoping they could avoid running into the dangerous animals.

They made their way through the ruins and into the tunnel entranceway without further incident. Traveling along the familiar smooth surfaces was a relief and they moved along the passageway into the underground machine. They came to the vaulted chamber they had visited before.

To their surprise Wolfe was already there—his corpulent bulk standing in the center of the vacant chamber.

“I demand to see Aristotle,” he exclaimed to a blank wall. “Aristotle, acknowledge me. I want to see you now. I demand it. You must stop shooting.”

“You can curse machines as much as you like. They don’t care,” said Gallant.

Gallant’s and Alaina’s improvident arrival startled Wolfe and he suspended his wrathful pose of fist shaking at nothingness.

“What are you doing here?” escaped his lips once he had recovered his wits.

“I’d ask you the same thing,” said Gallant.

“I came to raise the planetary force field for protection against the Titans,” said Wolfe as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He paused and then said, “But when I reached the edge of the jungle I saw the flashes of laser fire going into space. It may be targeting your ship.”

“It is,” said Gallant with eye narrowing.

“Aristotle’s not responding to my pleas,” said Wolfe, shrugging in dismay. He frowned and continued, “You think I’m responsible for this attack—and for all the attacks on the miners, as well, don’t you?”

Gallant said nothing.

Wolfe’s large frame was heaving in exasperation. “I’m not. I'm satisfied with our treaty. My deals with you and Aristotle suit my purposes. Honestly.”

Wolfe opened his arms wide and turning completely around, as if demonstrating he wasn’t hiding anything.

Gallant raised his eye-brow and looked at Alaina.

“Honestly?” mimicked Alaina in a disdainful tone. “Your choice of words is amusing.”

She raised her hands above her head and asked, “Who else could it be? What reason would Aristotle have to attack the United Planets?”

“I …, I don’t . . .,” sputtered Wolfe.

Alaina’s face turned beet red as she continued. “You’ve been busy building your egomaniac empire with Aristotle instead of addressing the needs of Elysium’s people. I intend to stop you—and Aristotle—anyway I can.”

Just as furious, Wolfe spat back, “How do you know what Aristotle wants? It’s a machine. No matter how many tests you give it—it thinks like a machine—you’ll never understand it.”

Gallant interjected, “I know you have your own agenda, not necessarily good or bad, just yours. Unfortunately, there’s more at stake than your personal greed and aggrandizement. After all the lies you’ve told how can I believe you now?”

“I can tell you about the origin of Aristotle,” said Wolfe.

“I’ve already discovered the truth about the ancient AI’s origin.”

“No! You only think you’ve discovered the truth. What you’ve discovered is that you don’t know the truth,” said Wolfe.

“What do you mean?” asked Alaina.

“Is it a lie to withhold information? No. It makes good sense to limit the amount of potentially dangerous information released to people of uncontrollable character. Aristotle claims to be a victim of an assassin, but you’ve only found the first layer of the onion. Dig deeper and you’ll learn there is likely a much more frightening truth,” said Wolfe.

“Ah? So you’re a sleuth of the truth now? Well, good luck with that. I find detecting lies is never easy, but detecting the lies of an ancient AI is an intractable problem,” said Gallant.

“Does this all
feel
right to you?” asked Wolfe.

“What do you mean?” asked Gallant.

“Something doesn’t
feel
right to me. It
feels
like there’s a hidden puppet master pulling strings somewhere deeper inside. I always assumed this was the main control chamber because it’s where I first met the Aristotle avatar. So I’ve only done a cursory exploration into other passages.”

Puzzled about what to make of the exchange, Gallant stared at Wolfe for a moment.

“You’re right about that. We don’t know what Aristotle’s motivations are, and we aren’t going to discover them in this empty vault. Let’s dig through the passageways below this room,” said Gallant.

“Good idea. Good idea,” said Wolfe as if he had won some debate point. “There are many passages leading deeper underground. I explored only a few, and that was many years ago. The door behind you leads to the main tunnel passage. We can start there.”

Alaina pushed against the door, which opened by sliding into the wall, revealing a wide corridor with numerous passageways branching off from a central hub.

Neumann sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge of the
Intrepid
—the symbolic seat of power and authority. He leaned to his right side and let his hand flitter over the vast array of virtual controls capable of monitoring and directing every aspect of the ship. A small part of his brain remained focused on the approach of the Titan destroyer while he swiped a screen to display a three dimensional color image of Elysium. The planet was as beautiful as ever, but now it posed a deadly threat.

Laser lightning bolts were being periodically fired through the atmosphere upward at the orbiting
Intrepid.

Just then, a laser blast struck the ship’s hull causing his chair to shudder. He leaned forward, his hands tightly gripping the chair, his jaw jutting out, speaking softly, but with an intensity that could not be mistaken for anything other than extreme urgency. “Engineering, I want power—now! Bring the fusion reactors critical and begin adding heat, immediately.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” came the disjointed voice of Ensign Smith who had only recently qualified as the Engineering Officer of the Watch. He was standing in the engineering control room hovering over the reactor operator who was pulling control levers to adjust the fusion plasma containment field. They watched as the compression heat increased and produced increased fusion reactions that heated the plasma thereby adding the necessary thrust to move the
Intrepid.

“Helm, get us away from this laser fire—plot a course from orbit to behind the moon,” said Neumann.

“Aye, aye, sir,” replied the helmsman. After a few seconds of touching his virtual chart screen he added, “Recommend course 120, azimuth 12, sir.”

“Very well. Helm, steady course on 120, azimuth 12,” ordered Neumann.

The
Intrepid
cut an impressive figure passing high above the planet—powerful and majestic—yet she was thrashing along with her engines straining beyond all design limits trying to reach orbital escape velocity.

Turing to his Weapons’ Officer, Lieutenant JG Palmer, Neumann said, “Lay down blanket fire to suppress the laser.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

A few seconds later, Palmer said, exasperated, “The laser cannon has been playing a game of hide-and-seek—firing a single shot, and then disappearing into an underground bunker for several minutes before firing again. I’ve got a general location, sir, but it would be pure luck to score a direct hit while it’s above ground.”

Sure it would,
Neumann thought harshly.

Anger shone in his eyes as he looked across the bridge at his fresh faced weapon’s officer at the controls of the ship’s laser and plasma cannons. The young man would eventually develop into a good weapons officer, but for now, his inexperience would weigh heavily against them.

Neumann observed the young man’s uncertainty, but rather than finding encouraging words, he said, scornfully, “Then get lucky.”

“Request permission to open fire, sir?” asked Palmer.

“Commence firing,” said Neumann.

“Sir, more flashes from the planet,” reported the radar-tech.

“On my display,” Neumann snapped, searching the screen for traces of the enemy. Dead silence filled the bridge. He sat tense and still, waiting for the next shot to strike. For just a moment, Neumann's brain refused to accept the visual images.

“Bridge, engineering—the reactor is critical and adding heat. We can answer ahead, one-third power,” came the report.

“Helm. Ahead one-third power,” ordered Neumann, grateful to be moving.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Slowly the
Intrepid
clawed her way out of orbit and toward the safety of the moon. All eyes clung to the screen following their trajectory toward the moon.

Thoughts of frustration twisted into resentment and flickered into Neumann’s mind,
Damn, Gallant. He’s running free on Elysium while I’m sitting here a prisoner of circumstance.

Years of built-up resentment at Gallant’s success as a Natural bubbled to the surface. It undermined everything that mattered to Neumann as a genetically engineered person. He even begrudged Gallant’s good-natured and natural ease with everyone he met—the crew, the people of Elysium, and most of all, with Kelsey Mitchell. Everyone
liked
Gallant.

Neumann had worked tirelessly to instill a disciplined approach to work and relationships, but the crew was nervous and ill-at-ease around him.

Gallant has Dan Cooper’s geniality.

The comparison to his dead captain reinforced Neumann’s bitterness.

“Winners always win.” I should be the winner, not Gallant.

Yet, if he were asked to specify what he should be winning, he couldn’t articulate it. He only knew Gallant had a unique mental faculty which allowed him to use higher brain functions to interface with AI controls—an ability that far surpassed Neumann’s own considerable talents. Gallant had an intangible something—something special.

The worst part was Gallant’s obliviousness to his own influence over people. He was unaware to how completely Kelsey had loved and admired him.

A momentary smile flashed across Neumann’s face as he recalled his satisfaction in sweeping Kelsey off her feet and away from Gallant.

Gallant might have won her back if he had made a serious effort, but that’s Gallant’s flaw—his failure to understand and nurture his personal relationships.

Neumann watched the screens around him as the minutes tick by. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, threatening to roll down his genetically perfect face. He quickly swiped it away.

After about ten minutes the laser cannon fired again. It missed.

The
Intrepid
continued moving toward safety.

Again after several more minutes the laser popped up and fired striking the
Intrepid
a glancing blow. It quickly disappeared before Palmer could get a tight fix on the target. He continued to fire the ship’s lasers in a general location to further suppress fire.

The cat and mouse game continued for nearly an hour. Neumann’s eyes were glued to the screen when another laser blast struck the ship and the virtual screen before him flickered and went blank.

Jerking his head around, Neumann spoke harshly, “How serious?"

But he could sense,
Bad enough.

A minute later the
Intrepid
was hit again with a devastating laser blast that struck the forward midsection of the ship and penetrated all the way into the bridge.

Metal shrieked and the hull moaned. The fire suppression system flooded the compartment, reducing the high temperatures, and causing the flames from ignited materials to sputter and die. Nevertheless, the newly renovated bridge suffered flash burns and heat damage to a large section of its structure. In particular, serious damage was done to the command and control systems.

Neumann was thrown from his chair by the blast and suffered severe burns. Panting, trying to suck in air to his seared lungs, his breathing was hampered by the hot stale fumes remaining from the mishmash of extinguished flames and retardant vapors.

He writhed in pain, but was grateful to hear the weapons officer report, “We’re blanketing the target area. The rate of fire has been reduced.”

Several nearby technicians were also injured and the ship’s medical response team removed the injured technicians to the medical center.

Relieved the ship was out of immediate danger, Neumann tried to hide the grimace of discomfort while he refused to be carried from the bridge.

As obsessed as he was to prove his genetically engineered superiority over Gallant, Neumann was even more desperate to obtain his father’s approval. Even when he won two gold medals at the Solar Olympics, his father’s expression indicated he would have preferred if his son had won a third.