Time Commander (The First Admiral Series) (29 page)

Trying to justify his decision, John argued that there was likely to be some scenario where Earth could potentially be under threat from asteroids, comets, or other large objects that could impact on the planet’s surface and cause untold damage and kill millions of innocent people.

What could science and technology do at the present moment? He speculated that they could perhaps throw nuclear missiles at these objects and hope that the explosions could divert them from their course or, perhaps, destroy them entirely. That was in realistic terms, wishful thinking, when some of the rocks out there in space could be the size of entire continents. All the nuclear warheads on Earth wouldn’t even scratch the surface of such a planet-killer.

Yet, there was also a part of John that wanted to build the device, simply to prove that it could be built. He rationalised that whoever got the weapon would have a range of problems to solve before they could effectively use it.

Firstly, there was the deployment problem. Whoever controlled the Trionic Cannon would have to deploy it from some large space vehicle in Earth’s orbit. The Trionic Cannon would be useless for controlling the Earth if it could not be pointed at a target on the Earth’s surface. The problems of building a large enough vessel to carry the device without anyone else noticing were not impossible, but it was highly unlikely to be achievable. Whichever side gained control of the weapon’s technology could count on their opponents doing everything humanly possible to disrupt and destroy their facilities. There was the option of putting the Trionic Cannon on the moon. The Americans had succeeded in sending men to the moon in small, cramped vehicles, but, that had been astonishingly expensive. To build a Trionic Cannon on the moon would require the building of a full scale base. Unfortunately, that could well effectively bankrupt even the great economic superpower of the United States.

Secondly, there was the problem of providing power to the Trionic Cannon.

Having scaled up the little pistol device he had created, John had calculated that it would require the output from a large nuclear reactor. The only realistic way of firing the device was from the surface of planet Earth.

The problem of sufficient power would always haunt whoever controlled the Trionic Cannon, and John knew that the first step to solving that power problem was his “Nuclear Battery”. In his mind’s eye, John could see the solution to his problem; he could draw out the blueprints and schematics for what he wanted. The technology to create his “Battery” was only just feasible to develop on Earth, with a little bit of hard work, dedication, and, most importantly, the right facilities. John had the motivation. He had the money to make the obsession a reality, or, to be more accurate, he had a plan to get that money. The money from Nakamura for the three-dimensional music player would part-finance a significant part of his new project. With a few more of his consumer electronic devices marketed and distributed by the Nakamura Corporation, John knew that he would have more than enough in terms of financial resources. The facilities existed on Earth, but what he needed was access to the equipment, laboratories and the highly-skilled scientists and technicians to make his dream a reality.  Hideaki Nakamura was the right man, with the right name and with the right connections to open all of the doors that John would have to get through to bring his project to life.

Through his contact with the Development Staff at Nakamura Electronics, John had politely and respectfully asked for a private meeting with Hideaki Nakamura himself to discuss a new venture. The appointment was duly arranged, and John found himself on the long haul flight to Tokyo via Malta, Bahrain, Delhi, and Singapore.

The interview with Hideaki Nakamura was conducted, as John had requested, in one of the research laboratories at the Nakamura Corporate HQ. After a brief demonstration of the prototype Trionic-pistol, Hideaki Nakamura had dismissed his stunned and astonished staff with an instruction to say nothing of what they had seen. A small pistol-like device that could blow a hole twenty centimetres wide through fifteen centimetres of armour plating was not something Hideaki Nakamura, nor any other manufacturer, wished to broadcast to the world.

To an incredulous Nakamura, John explained his thinking behind what he called ‘The Trionic Cannon’. For John, what he was proposing was a planetary defence system; for the benefit of all mankind, in the event of a large celestial body likely to strike the surface of planet Earth. As John explained his idea for the Trionic Cannon, Hideaki Nakamura asked Chief Physicist Mifume to join them down in the underground laboratory.

The argument and questions had ranged back and forth for almost two hours, with an increasingly confused and astonished Hideaki Nakamura taking an ever increasingly secondary role in the proceedings.

Hideaki Nakamura, a highly regarded scientist and theoretical physicist, in his own right, had become completely lost in the conversation between the two men. Having lost any comprehension of what he was hearing, Hideaki Nakamura did what most astute business men did; he kept his mouth shut and his ears open.

The conversation carried on for a further half an hour, with Mifume and Caudwell completely oblivious to the presence of the President of the Corporation. When the conversation finally petered out, an emotionally drained Chief Physicist had sat down beside the small pistol-like device. Looking over at Nakamura, Mifume declared the Trion Theory utterly brilliant. Pointing to the holed armour plate, Mifume indicated that the damage pattern showed signs of destruction occurring from the inside of the plate outwards as John’s theory had predicted. The de-stabilisation of the molecules had increased to a point of critical mass, and the structure of the armour had failed; producing an explosion from the centre, to both the front and back of the plate. This was why the centre of the hole in the plate had a sharp inward protruding rim.

After shaking John’s hand and bowing deeply as a sign of great respect, Mifume was dismissed back to his duties. Having had his final question answered, Hideaki Nakamura made the decision to help John with his project. Deep down in his being, Nakamura instinctively knew that this foreigner was something special. Nakamura’s instincts told him that the three-dimensional video and music player was a winner. The blueprint for the hand-held arcade game player that John had offered Nakamura in exchange for his knowledge and assistance would also make billions; featuring specifications that blew away any competing devices while making it easily affordable to the masses. With a nod, and a handshake, Nakamura agreed to make the introductions John needed to get his Trionic Cannon project moving. He had already managed to draw up quite a sizeable shopping list, but in Nakamura’s world, where there was a will, there was a way. Not to mention the money, which is was always a useful lubricant to the wheels of progress.

With a list of contacts and a new contract for the hand-held arcade game player in his pocket, John stepped brightly out into the warm, humid Tokyo evening. The ever shrewd Nakamura knew that now John needed lots of money, so there would be new and more exciting innovations for a company like Nakamura Electronics to market and distribute. If Nakamura kept giving Caudwell good terms for his inventions, then Caudwell would keep coming back to Nakamura. It could potentially be a very lucrative partnership.

If, that was, Hideaki Nakamura played it right.

Watching John step happily into the evening, Hideaki Nakamura had also decided that, perhaps, he should do something more proactive about protecting his future investment. If the military found out about the Trionic Cannon project, then John, and the profits of Nakamura Electronics, would be in serious danger. So, Nakamura concluded that assigning a special Guardian Angel, or two, to watch over him might not be such a bad idea. This was, after all, the man who could save the planet with his Trionic Cannon... or destroy it.

Below the airliner, the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean seemed to stretch into eternity as John closed his eyes and hoped that his dreams would not be plagued by more nightmare devices.

Slowly and deliberately, the young Imperial Guard officer walked absent-mindedly down the brightly lit corridor. His attention apparently focussed on the small reading device in his hands, he walked at an excruciatingly slow pace through the light-blue coloured corridors. Passing Guards stiffened their shoulders and held their heads up straight as they passed the young Ganthoran with the Signals Captain’s insignia on his uniform sleeve. Obviously deep in concentration, the young Captain failed to acknowledge their salute, and carried on slowly towards his own destination.

His name was Thripval Branthus, and he had been an Imperial Guard for the majority of his adult life. However, all was not what it appeared to be with Signals Captain Thripval Branthus. Over many years, the young Signals Captain had perfected the deep-in-thought, absent-minded meander through the corridors of whatever posting he had found himself in, and, on this particular day, the years of play-acting and developing his character would finally reach its culmination. The apparently absent-minded, but highly-focussed, technically-brilliant and courageous Signals Officer would strike a blow for the freedom of all Ganthorans. Today, he was going to influence the destiny of the entire Empire.

Despite wearing the dark blue circle of the Signals Regiments, charged with maintaining communication with the Imperial Palace, Imperial Guard HQ and the planet Ganthus, Thripval’s true talent was in an entirely different field. Like his father before him, Thripval Branthus had a gift that very few Ganthorans possessed. Signals Captain Thripval Branthus was a Binary Code Reader.

The massive holographic projectors of the Arena were programmed to create the enormous Vide-orb that was viewable from every seat. To programme the Vide-orb to show whatever was desired in its three-dimensional format required a great deal of very simple Binary Code. The Binary Code, made up entirely of relatively simple “1” and “0” characters, was far easier to use for transcribing the much higher coding languages into the Time Warrior ritual computers.

The major problem for anyone wishing to interfere with, or sabotage, the Time Warrior ritual, was that every programmer more or less had their own particular higher coding language. With no one single programmer aware of what other programmers were doing for the ritual, the uniqueness of each coding language added a further layer of safety and security to the ritual. The weakness with that system was that each unique programming language was then converted to the Binary Code to integrate the pieces into the overall programme. With the computers so dependent on the Binary Code, security at the facility had to be of the highest level.

Thripval Branthus, like his father, was the one in twenty billion Ganthorans that had a small genetic mutation. This mutation altered his style of perception and allowed him to look at Binary Code to see the patterns and structures of the Code itself. With some simple training, Thripval had been able to penetrate the Binary Code and amend what was written.

With a quick glance to his left and right, the apparently deep in thought Captain Branthus turned swiftly to his right. Taking a small, flatly-squared device from the rear panel of his reading equipment, he set the small square against the door frame of the Programming Interface Room. Within a few seconds the small square device illuminated and the door to the room flew upwards to allow Thripval access. Then, calmly, Thripval retrieved the device and stepped, unchallenged, into the most sensitive part of the facility. Despite being the most sensitive part of the facility, the Programming Interface Room was not securely locked.

The day before the Time Warrior programme was run, there would be a final scrutiny of all the routines, sub-routines and parameters. Only essential personnel were allowed onto the Interface Room level, of which the Signals Duty Officer was one such individual. As Duty Signals Officer, Thripval Branthus was responsible for ensuring that the Binary Code signal ran smoothly and uninterrupted from the facility to the Arena floor and the Vide-orb. The final test of the system would be that afternoon, when Thripval was off duty, and be conducted by his commanding officer.

The Programming Interface Room was starkly white in comparison to the rest of the facility’s pale-blue. Hexagonal in shape, with no decorations or visible equipment, the room was a series of six benches attached to the wall. At each bench, a small, square, single-support stool could be raised and lowered from the floor to accommodate each programmer. Each programmer brought their own Encryption Ball; a black spherical device with four grooves embedded into each half of the sphere. With this device, each programmer could upload or download their code into the programme, with the grooves of the ball being used as the keyboard-like interface. Every sphere was unique, and bore no numeral or letter characters. Each programmer had their own unique language, which used coded figures that they were compelled to memorise. They then had to memorise the groove settings to their own Encryption Ball. Thus, each programmer had their own unique coding language and their own unique Encryption Ball. It was more layers of security on top of what already existed.

Working swiftly, Thripval took two pieces of equipment from his uniform pockets. They were slim, narrow and rectangular on three sides of their structure, but rounded on the fourth short side. Pressing the two pieces of metal together side-by-side to form a thicker version of the original two shapes, he operated a small switch on the left hand side of the new structure. Slowly, four indented grooves depressed inwards from each side of the shape. This was a Binary Code Interface Device. Made to look like two Signal Resistance Detectors, Thripval had designed and built the device himself for this day.