He Who Dares: Book Three Read online

  Shields

  Multilayer with five second recovery interval

  “What Captain Gray hasn’t mentioned is the fact that his ship doesn’t exist, at least as far as the Bureau of ships, and the Ministry of Defense is concerned.” The admiral added. Seaford looked at Ross and nodded in understanding.

  “Also, due to an unfortunate fire in the Drafting and Records room at the Devonport shipyard, her plans and specifications were lost. Other than whatever Mike has, she was never reported to anyone except me,” he smiled.

  “Now we know what Taffy was grinning about.” Mike and the admiral both cocked an eye at him. “Oh, I forgot… yes, well. Our esteemed colleague, Leftenant Evens, the Duke of Cardiff was walking around some months ago with a cat-ate-the-canary smile on his face and he wouldn’t tell us why, except that he helped a certain captain get supplies for his ship. Now we know which ship, but my god! What class is she?” Seaford exclaimed.

  “It's certainly not a Destroyer, or a Cruiser… it doesn’t fit,” Ross looked at Mike. “Come on Mike, tell us how you did it?” In turn, Mike looked at the admiral, seeing him nod slightly.

  For a moment, Mike pulled his earlobe in embarrassment. “Um… well, I designed her.” Suddenly everyone at the table, except the admiral was looking at him intently. “What?” He pleaded in self defense.

  “That’s not possible, Mike,” Seaford exclaimed. “You need a super computer and a full engineering staff.”

  “Everyone keeps saying it can’t be done, but… well… I sort of started designing her when I was twelve years old.” The Lady Anne reached over and patted his hand in support.

  “Okay, I’ll buy that Mike, but what on earth is she?” Seaford asked.

  “Never really thought about it. I just used several available concepts, such as what was once called a pocket battleship of World War Two, and the MTB, the motor torpedo, or fast attack boats. Fit the biggest guns you can find and mount them on a suitable size hull, throw in some fusion reactors to power the whole thing, and bob’s-your-uncle as Jenks would say,” Mike offered offhandedly.

  “I see, and the, what did the specs say…” Seaford look at the specifications again, “oh yes, Pykrete.”

  “What on earth is that?” Ross asked.

  “Yes, I’d be interested in learning what that is, Leftenant,” The admiral added. “It’s certainly not part of a standard hull design.”

  “No, sir, it’s not. It’s a variation of a substance called Pykrete, named after its inventor, Geoffrey Pyke. Originally, he mixed 14% sawdust with water and froze it. The resulting ice could stop a large caliber bullet in its tracks or a torpedo if it were part of a ship’s hull. It wouldn’t shatter or break like normal ice and could be repaired with just water as long as it stayed frozen. I took the idea and switched the wood pulp with 14% nanotubes and Bucky balls to siphon away radiation. I then placed it between two layers of anti-radiation impact jell. Even a direct impact on the hull by conventional, or particle beam weapons, has little to no effect on it. Even if some of it melts, it’s almost immediately refreezes.” There was silence around the table as each of them thought about it.”

  “Yes, of course it would in space,” the admiral muttered, thinking out loud.

  “The added advantage that I can see,” Rolly Vargas put in, “is that you’d have a lot of ready water and an extra radiation shielding to boot.”

  “So, I think I ended up with a ship that’s somewhere between a destroyer and a heavy cruiser.” Mike added.

  “I’d say it was more like a pocket cruiser with those oversized beam weapons on her,” the ambassador added with a laugh.

  “The question is, how best to use her, and her sister ships coming out of the Yards on Christchurch, can you use them in a combined fleet action, Admiral?” Anne asked.

  “At this point in time, I’m not sure, your highness,” he admitted with a sigh. “I deliberately issued orders to Captain Gray not to bring his ship in-system. The fewer people who actually see her the better. At the moment, she’s a ghost ship.”

  “How about in her role as a mercenary ship, the Hemlock?” She asked. The admiral gave her a startled look. “I mean, his Majesty could issue a Letter of Marque to Captain Bear and the mercenary ship, Hemlock.”

  “I take it you know about Mike’s little foray into Sirrien space as Captain Bear of the good ship Hemlock?”

  “Yes, Admiral, I did see the report. If that’s the case, the Sirriens are already set up to expect a mercenary ship operating in their space,” Anne added.

  “It’ll also give your father plausible deniability,” he chuckled for a moment, “and will give the PM and Whitehall conniption fits as they try to figure out what’s going on. I’d love to hear them try to talk their way out of knowing anything about it.”

  “There’s also the question of um… resupplying your ship, Mike,” Ross asked. “Where will you operate out of?”

  “That’s a good question... Admiral?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, that poses a small problem.” The admiral stroked his chin in thought.”

  “If I may. One of the reasons the Orion Dawn is here is to pick up cargo from the Gravatronics plant on the Moon.” Everyone looked at the ambassador. “One of the first targets the Sirriens will go after is that facility. I’ve recently been in contact with the director to relay instructions to him concerning his… um… inventory.”

  “I feel a ‘however’ in there somewhere, sir,” Mike had the feeling that there was more going on around him than the last time he was in London.

  “Your grandfather, and the council thought it might be wise to remove any temptations out of the reach of the Sirriens. To that end, he ordered me to ask the director to pack up and relocate his operation to Avalon.”

  “Why on earth would he agree to that?” Mike asked, a little surprised, seeing the ambassador smile.

  “Few people are aware that Gravatronics LLC has moved its headquarters to Avalon, and is now incorporated out of Avalon, not Earth.” That brought a few knowing nods and smiles from around the table. Mike did think it odd that Gravatronics was headquartered on Avalon, instead of Christchurch like other multi-stellar corporations.

  “What is it that I don’t know, Ambassador? Mike asked.

  Ambassador MacTavish looked a little uncomfortable, “Most people are aware that Charles Enright started the company with funds from his Majesty, your Grandfather, Lady Anne, but only partly. The bulk of the funds to build Gravatronics into what it is today came from Max Tregallion after he settled Avalon.” Setting off a grenade in the room couldn’t have been as big a bombshell to Mike as that.

  “What!” He sat there for a few seconds absorbing the information, and the implications. “That crafty old bugger. He lied to me… well, he didn’t exactly tell me the truth really.” Several people looked at him, but Mike didn’t explain who, or what they had lied about.

  “As we speak, everything from the Gravatronics facility is being loaded onto the Orion Dawn as well as its personnel and their families for transport to Avalon.”

  “Yes, I can see that. No one wants any of them falling into the hands of the Sirriens,” Seaford added.

  “That’s not all,” Seaford spoke up at last. “Through devious means the Navy is also putting together a supply convoy to go out at the same time as the Orion Dawn. With all the pirate activity along the way, it was thought best to incorporate the two for part of the journey. At some point along the way, the Navy will split off to go resupply naval outposts and depots.”

  “Won’t the Ministry of Supply get a bit suspicious?” Mike asked.

  “Not at all. The order came from them by way of my office, and as we haven’t done a resupply run in over a year, no one thought to question the order.”

  “How many ships will be in the convoy?” Mike asked.

  “Thirty-two, all told, including the seven Royal Naval escorts,” Ross added, then looked toward Admiral Rawlings. “I believe you are the one responsible for choo
sing the ships that will accompany the supply convoy?”

  “Yes, true, and I’ll have to pick carefully.”

  “The question remains. Where will you operate out of? Captain MaGinnus will need to know where to drop off those supplies.”

  “I have a few places in mind, Admiral. I’ll just have to decide which of them is best.”

  The Lady Anne leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “I was just thinking. As the founder of a crown colony, wouldn’t the real Max Tregallion have to visit the palace on an official visit?” She asked.

  “Well, yes, normally he would. What are you thinking, Lady Anne?” MacTavish asked.

  “Once my father knew he was in London, he’d issue a formal invitation. That would also give Captain Bear the opportunity to accept the royal commission as a privateer and receive his Letter of Marque from the King himself, thereby making it official.” Mike hid his smile as he wondered if that meant an overnight stay at the palace as well. Knowing Anne, he was betting it would. As the admiral was about to leave, Mike took him off to one side out of hearing of the rest.

  “One item neither of us spoke of was Enright’s Folly.”

  The admiral smiled and turned so his back was to the rest of the people across the room. “Correct, Mike. I didn’t bring it up, as you didn’t broach the subject.”

  Mike held out his hand with two data chips. “One contains the official report of my… um… search mission in the Oort cloud for Sirrien spy ships, and my trip to Avalon. The other contains details of how to enter Enright’s Folly from either direction. Any ship entering will have to follow the directions very carefully otherwise they’ll end up getting sucked into a black hole on one side or being pulled into a class II giant star.”

  “Good grief.”

  “There’s only a small margin of error, Admiral.”

  “Any other surprises you want to tell me about?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s about the alien ship we found guarding the WP.”

  “Alien ship?”

  Mike gave the admiral a lopsided grin, “I’ve included all the details, and a video log of what we found, and my disposition of the ship.”

  “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

  “It will all become clear once you’ve seen the video, and hear my conclusion for the actions I took, sir.” His smile got broader. “You might want to defer the court-martial until after this is all over.”

  “Court-martial?”

  “Yes, sir. I need to go and change out of this outfit, sir. That will give you time to read my initial report.

  That was what Admiral Rawlings muttered to himself again after reading the report.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  While he changed, he thought about what he’d heard earlier. To Mike, a lot of things were falling into place. Someone, the King and his grandfather probably, was staying ahead of the game. Cleaning out the Gravatronics plant made sense if you expected the Sirriens to make a grab for the home system. With the state the Royal Navy was in at the moment, they didn’t have a hope of stopping a Sirrien invasion fleet.

  He looked at the Lady Anne, Seaford and Ross, wondering what else of value was being shipped off world. There were a few things, and people, that needed relocating, and it occurred to him to wonder about the shipbuilding crew down at Devonport. They knew way too much about the Nemesis and how she was built.

  Once he started commerce raiding, it wouldn’t take the Sirriens long to wonder where she was built. There were only a few places a ship like that could be built and sooner or later, they’d get around to asking questions around the dockyard here on Earth. He hated to think of his friends, or their families, falling into the hands of the Sirrien secret police. He mentally marked that on his to-do list, but it saddened him to think that he couldn’t take everyone of value. That would be a good job for Jenks and Taffy while he was idling his time away at the palace. He also added talking with Captain MacManus to his list to arrange for passage for maybe up to a thousand people. The Orion Dawn was more than capable of handling that many people in her cavernous interior.

  Over a nightcap the group talked about a lot of things including the goings on at number 10 Downing Street and what the Prime Minister was up to. The consensus was, nothing good. The red-nosed, fat bastard, as Anne called him, was trying to stir up the populace against the royal family, but he wasn’t having a lot of success. The general feeling at the table was that he’d already made a deal with the Sirriens. At last, Anne put her buckteeth back in, and Seaford and his party took their leave and departed. Mike didn’t go outside, and simply shook hands with Anne as she left. They could see the longing in each other’s eyes, but they said nothing, and other than a light kiss on the cheek they didn’t show a lot of affection for each other in public. It was either that, or rip each other’s clothes off and make mad passionate love on the closest available flat surface, namely the floor or a table, if they could make it that far. The princess was of half a mind to do just that and say to hell with etiquette, but with an effort, she restrained herself, behaved like a Lady, and wished Mike a polite goodnight instead. After the Lady Anne and her party had departed, the admiral buttonholed Mike and he handed over the data chip with his formal report of his trip to Avalon, and their official response. The admiral glanced at him, as Mike sat opposite and sipped his brandy.

  “Now that the others have departed, give me your informal report, and tell me what’s not in that one.” He said, pointing to the chip in his hand.

  In a nutshell, Mike gave him the bare bones and the content of the letter from the president of Avalon. Admiral Rawlings nodded in agreement when Mike informed him that he’d already given the letter to the Lady Anne in her guise as a King’s Messenger.

  “Now then, what about the Pluto warp point?”

  “We can now get through it, sir.” Mike answered with a smile.

  “Great! How on earth did you manage that?” He asked, seeing the smile.

  “Believe it or not, all I had to do was move a mile long alien warship on the other side that guards it.”

  “Good god!” The admiral breathed, almost dropping his coffee cup. After Mike explained, the admiral looked pensive.

  “I’m not sure what we can do about it at the moment, not with all the holes in our security system.”

  “Oh… um… well,” Mike actually felt himself blush, “we don’t have to worry about that, sir. I sent her home.” Admiral Rawlings looked up, cocking an eyebrow, and scowled with displeasure.

  “You what… where is her home? Good god, do you know what the Sirriens would do if they even got a whiff that she exists.” He growled. “They’d search every damn planet from here to the Rift to find her.”

  “Not much chance of that, sir. She a long way away from here.”

  “A long way…” he spluttered, “that’s not far enough… where is she?”

  “Somewhere on her way to the Andromeda galaxy, sir.”

  The admiral stopped and blinked. “Yes, I think that’s far enough way,” he said at last. “I can see why you sent her home, but I doubt that His Majesty's government will.”

  “Who’s to know, sir?”

  “True. There was nothing in your official report…” he murmured, “so other than, you, me, Rolly and your crew, she doesn’t exist, much like your ship, but it’s a pity we couldn’t get a look at some of her tech.”

  “With that in mind, sir. I brought this back with me.” Saying that, Mike pulled out several chunks of hull plate from the alien ship and place them on the table. The admiral picked up one of the chunks and examined it.

  “Light for its thickness, but?”

  In answer, Mike picked up two bent bits, and as Adam had done found a straight edge where he could hold the two bits together. The moment they linked, he placed them on the table. The Admiral watched in amazement as the two pieces joined and folded out.

  “I’ll be damned. How…”

  “Exactly, sir. If the R&D people can figure o
ut how that’s done, it would be a game changer as far as our ship construction is concerned.”

  “You’re right, but take this and anything else you found with you and hand it over to the R&D boys and girls on Avalon. I don’t want these anywhere in-system where the Sirriens might get their sweaty hands on it.” Mike nodded in understanding.

  “By the way, your warning about the virus was timely. It did arrive as you predicted, but we were ahead of the game and managed to stop it on many ships. We even managed to find a few double agents and turncoats in the fleet as well.”

  “Good, it’s about time, sir.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean we’ve eliminated all the Sirrien spies.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want me to bring my ship in, sir?”

  “Yes. The less people who know about, or see her, the better right now.”

  “So what are your orders, sir?”

  “As the… Lady Anne suggested. That you go to the palace as Captain Bear and pick up your Letter of Marque. I’d also like you to trail along behind the convoy as a rear guard until they are safely at their destination.” Mike noted that the admiral didn’t specify the destination. “Once you have done that, find a safe place to operate out of and start um… blockading Sirrien supply lines.”

  “That’s a tall order with just one ship, Admiral.”

  “Didn’t you just go to Avalon and order one hundred Nemesis class ships?”

  Mike sat back in surprise. He never saw that one coming.

  “But, sir. I don’t have the authority to do something like that.”

  “As Leftenant Michael Gray of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, no. But what about as Captain Bear of the Mercenary ship, Hemlock?”

  Mike closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a massive headache coming on just thinking about the job of organizing a merc fleet.

  “What… um… latitude would I have, sir?”

  Admiral Rawlings smiled, “Do you remember the story, or history of Henry Morgan, Mike?”

  “From what I can remember, there’s no real record of Morgan before 1655. He later said that he left school early and was more used to the pike than the book." Alexandre Exquemelin, Morgan's surgeon at Panama, says that he was indentured in Barbados. Yes, I remember reading that somewhere.”