CHAPTER 4. A TRICKY OPERATION.
Michael had just finished showering when 762 requested entry. He had with him a large amount of clothing in two large, luxurious, leather suitcases which he stood on the floor.
"This is your Company uniform, Captain. Your Security Tag is also in there; it should be worn at all times and you are cleared to level Black which is the highest level clearance available, unless you are an actual Director of the Company."
“Thank you," replied Michael. He had never given this obvious notion of uniform a thought; naturally, all Aviation and Mercantile-type Companies had their own distinctive dress. It would seem strange not wearing his usual military one
“How did you know my size?" he asked.
"That's easy,” said 762, “When you arrived for interview, you passed through the Security Tele-scan system. It weighs you, photographs you, measures you and does a sonic scan for weapons which also picks up your dental record. The Company Tailor has every dimension he needs exact to a hundredth of an inch. Don't worry, Sir, your uniform will fit perfectly. Every Captain receives the same issue as you. There is only one item missing and that is your hand weapon. You will find that in the safe in the Captain's quarters when you board your vessel. "
“Is the weapon the standard issue electronic stun gun?" inquired Michael.
“The standard weapon is the basis of the design but we have added a few little refinements for our own use. For instance there are two highly compressed gas cylinders inside the weapon: one is a knock out gas for quickly and harmlessly immobilizing a lot of people and the other is a foam device which could put out a fairly large fire if required. It is a tidy, useful piece of hardware.”
Weapons with standard bullets and high velocity muzzle speeds had been outlawed following the disaster which had befallen the American Cruiser Apache. A soldier, who had been standing guard over some prisoners they were transporting, was attacked by a crazed inmate. In the struggle which followed two prisoners and the guard were shot; another bullet shorted out some essential wiring and yet another smashed a large viewing panel.
The ship depressurised very quickly and the Captain was unable to seal the doors due to the damaged circuitry. Apart from three crew men who managed to scramble into space suits, all one hundred and eighty seven prisoners and crew perished within ten minutes. The other three died an hour later due to the fact that they had picked up bottles which were nearly empty; they could not get full ones because the doors were jammed by the faulty circuitry. It was still the worst space tragedy on record.
The result was that a new stun gun was developed which had enough power to disable a man and render him unconscious but did not have enough power to harm the ship or cause fire.
“I think I had better have breakfast before I dress,” observed Michael who had horrendous visions of a brand new uniform with egg and coffee stains down the front.
“Will it be your usual, Sir?" asked 762.
Michael decided to be contrary because he did not like to think of himself as being predictable. “No thanks,” he replied, “I will have a slice of cantaloupe, two boiled eggs done three minutes and three rounds of toast."
If he had expected any reaction from 762 he was disappointed. He simply said, “Very good, Sir,” and left to organize it.
He inspected his uniform while he was waiting for his breakfast. It was very smart and was a combination of white and slate grey with the gold trimmings of a Senior Captain. There were other items in the issue apart from the full dress uniform. These included a lightweight lounge suit, several coverall-type working garments, thermal spacesuit undergarments, a selection of shirts and an array of hats and caps with the appropriate boots and shoes. Each garment bore the Company logo or the appropriate insignia of rank. "A better issue than the Military,” thought Michael.
His breakfast arrived and Michael quickly finished it. He immediately wished he had ordered the other but was too stubborn to ask for more, so he suffered in silence. As he dressed he went over the plans in his head again looking for obvious flaws: he found none. Eventually he went over to the mirror to inspect the results. The clothing fitted perfectly and was extremely flattering. The insignias were all done in genuine gold thread and the full dress hat sported a solid gold Company emblem. The perfectly polished shoes finished the image off.
Michael looked at the face in the mirror. he wondered if he was too old to be starting another career, then remembered that they had chosen him in preference to younger men; experience had to count for something. The eyes were still blue and alert; some said they held a hint of cruelty. Personally he thought that was a little unfair but then again he had never had the misfortune to look at himself when he was annoyed. He knew that he could be ruthless in matters concerning duty but that was not cruelty, it was merely determination.
He looked again and noticed that his hair was still plentiful although there was a little frost round the edges. He was physically quite fit and not overweight; he was six feet one inch tall but the uniform made him look bigger. All in all he was quite pleased with what he could see and, most importantly, he still had that certain air of authority which a Captain needed.
A curious thought crossed his mind. What did Charlotte think of him? Would she see him as dashing and debonair? Perhaps ruggedly handsome and mature? He hoped it was something reasonably flattering.
He pulled himself together with an effort and stopped his day dreaming. It did not really matter what Charlotte thought, it was what Sir Richard thought that really mattered, at least for the time being. In his heart he knew it was a lie even as he thought it.
Fred Ford arrived at precisely 9.53: at 9.58 they were standing outside Sir Richard's office, The 'Enter' light flashed on at exactly ten o-clock. They walked straight in and Sir Richard stood to greet them, "Come in, Gentlemen and please sit down!”
The office was put into 'Secure Mode' immediately and Sir Richard sat down to join them. The room had been rearranged since their last visit. There was now a beautifully polished, circular hardwood table with three matching upholstered chairs. There was no attempt whatsoever to give anybody a dominant position. Michael liked that and appreciated the psychology that went with it.
There was a pitcher of water on the table which was standing on a refrigerated tray along with three matching goblets. They were not made of glass but from a special quartz which was now mined in some quantity in the Asteroids, particularly in the Trojan group. It had the peculiar quality of always being ten degrees centigrade cooler than its surroundings, a phenomenon which nobody had been able to explain yet. The quartz was very easy to machine, fine grained, infinitely colourful and enormously expensive.
The material had been very useful in the development of C.A.M.I.D. Electronic circuitry went back one hundred and fifty years when Professor Crest developed the new system. Transistorised circuits were unable to handle the huge currents which were generated and the long extinct valve which had been invented by Lee DeForrest in the nineteen twenties had, from necessity, been resurrected.
For many years large, energy consuming fans were installed to dissipate the heat from these immense electronic dinosaurs and there was an unhealthy failure rate due to burn out. Simon, Sir Richard’s father, had been working with the new quartz and he had decided to experiment with the material in the production of these troublesome valves in preference to the silicon glass they normally used.
The results surpassed all expectations and failure in these valves became a rarity. It was the crowning touch to the whole system.
Sir Richard picked up the pitcher and poured water for everybody, “You can always tell a man who is used to wearing a uniform. You look very smart this morning, Captain.”
“Thank you, Sir Richard,” murmured Michael self consciously.
"Well... we had better get down to business,” said Sir Richard, taking some documents from his security case. “Captain, I have the results of your Competency Test from the Simulator.”
He inspected the papers closely and showed about as much reaction as a poker player. "Well, Captain, it would appear that you gave Mr. Langley a hard time yesterday.”
Michael was a little taken aback; he was convinced that Mr. Langley had given him a hard time. "How do you mean, Sir?" asked Michael with as much politeness as he could muster.
“Apparently your response to his instructions was so quick at times that his computer had difficulty coping with it. In fact he said that your 'Heave To' from maximum speed was so expertly done that you nearly burnt out his Simulator. He had to slow you down by throwing you a faulty giro: even that did not work, he says, you sorted it out so quickly that he still had to replace some badly burnt circuitry after the test.”
Michael was now feeling uncomfortable, "Will I have to take another test then?"
"Good Lord, no,” smiled Sir Richard. “Mr. Langley informs me that you are the best pilot he has ever had the pleasure of testing. He was most impressed by the thoroughness of your procedures on the Deimos landing. He has studied the tapes of what you did and will now introduce this sequence into our training programme."
He reached into his case and presented Michael with his Certificate of Competence and a small black box.
"Congratulations, Michael! In the box are two, solid gold, matching comets which are to be worn on the lapels of your uniform. They signify a pilot of outstanding ability, so be proud to wear them. The only other pilot with a pair of these is Clive Twist, so you are in good company."
“I am honoured, Sir," said Michael blushing slightly. He realized that he had stood up so he sat down again.
Fred Ford was grinning all over his face. "Well done, Captain Stephens! I knew you were the right man for us.”
Sir Richard became serious again. "Have you come up with a workable plan that can be quickly executed, Captain?"
"Yes, there is a specific course of action I would like to follow, Sir.”
"Good! Do not hesitate to ask for anything you need, my private vessel is at your disposal, as are the whole of the resources of the Company."
Michael pondered the enormity of that last statement for a moment, then he began to unfold his plan.
"First of all I feel that secrecy on this mission is vital and, under the circumstances, I would prefer to run it as a military operation. I do not wish to draw attention to the mission so I would like to use a conventional freighter, similar to the ones that disappeared. I want real cargo and I want a flight plan which takes me straight to Ceres. However there are a few alterations which I would need doing.
In addition to the normal twenty containers, I would like another four stowed immediately behind the Command Module. These four should be filled with as many extra power packs as we can fit in and then wired directly into the standard C.A.M.I.D. power pack already on board. I will need as much extra power for the system as possible. The mission stands a much better chance of success if I do not have to be power efficient".
“Can you arrange that, Fred?" asked Sir Richard.
"We have never had to do it before but I don't think it is beyond the limit of our ingenuity. May I ask why you need this vast amount of power, Captain?"
Michael replied, "I am used to piloting very fast craft. With this extra power I can prolong acceleration to gain much higher speeds and cut down the E.T.A. There would also be plenty of power left for pursuit if that proved necessary.
They both nodded. "It makes sense, Fred," said Sir Richard. "Even in my own craft I would be short of power when I arrived at the rock-fields. Yes, you're right, Captain, a modified freighter it is. What about armament?"
"I was very tempted at first to ask for some external armament, such as missiles, but I feel that it would deter any aggressor if they could see obvious armament. It would also draw attention to the freighter as being something different."
Mr. Ford looked directly at Michael and said, "It is becoming obvious that you intend to set yourself up as bait. You want whatever is out there to attack you, don't you?"
“Considering the vast volume of the Asteroid Belt our chances of finding them if they choose to hide is practically nil. I fail to see any other alternative."
Sir Richard spoke again, “Captain, you do appreciate that you are subjecting yourself and the crew to a considerable risk?”
“I fully understand the risks we are inviting. However, we are going into the situation with some knowledge. We will at least be expecting trouble, the other Captains were not. That in itself gives us some edge. Also we will have personal weapons on board, with your permission, Sir, and I will have exercised the crew to expect trouble."
"You seem to have thought everything out, Captain Stephens. Are there any other details you wish to tell us?” asked Sir Richard.
"Yes Sir, I want the launch to look as routine as possible and I will not be on board when the freighter leaves. It is my intention to board the vessel and assume command a little way out from Moon orbit. I will bring the weapons on board there. Also I will need a container left empty for my Moon Shuttle, which could be very handy for searching among the rocks. That also means that an adjacent container will need to be carrying spares and fuel for the shuttle.”
“Any other problems?" inquired Mr. Ford who had been taking notes.
“The big problem is the crew. They will need to be briefed that they are on a special mission. I would prefer volunteers and they must be prepared to train in a military way. The Captain who pilots the ship from Earth must be prepared to stand down and become co-pilot. It would be essential to have at least two pilots anyway on this trip. The detailed briefing would be given by myself when I assumed command. The crew must be good loyal men, Sir Richard. Without their full cooperation the mission is doomed before we start."
"I think we can guarantee some excellent crew,” said Sir Richard knowingly. “How long do you think it will take you to prepare for launching, Fred?"
“I would think about seven days, Sir Richard, if everything goes smoothly."
“Make it go smoothly please, Fred. I want the vessel ready in five days; the loading of the cargo and the preparation of the containers can start immediately. Final assembly will take place on the sixth day and the launch will go ahead exactly one week today.
Captain Stephens, you will have a chest of personal hand weapons installed in your Moon Shuttle by tomorrow evening and you can return to your Moon Base the following morning. Before you leave you should give Mr. Ford the co-ordinates of the rendezvous and the exact time.”
“I already have these written down, Sir Richard,” said Michael and passed the sheets on to Mr. Ford.
Sir Richard continued remorselessly. “I will deal with the question of the crew. It would probably be a good idea to increase the crew to a total of twelve instead of the usual ten, so I will pick an extra man if you think you can use him, Captain.”
"There is an extra duty to cover, Sir. From Mars onward there will be a constant visual lookout posted, so an extra man would be a great asset."
“Is there anything anybody wishes to add in conclusion?" asked Sir Richard.
“Yes Sir,” said Michael. "It is not pleasant but I think it needs to be said. I am not hopeful of finding any crew members of the other two ships alive, unless they have mutinied."
Fred Ford sat up with a jerk, "Mutinied ? What a preposterous notion, what would they have to gain by mutiny?”
Sir Richard interceded, “lt is a possibility we must face up to, Fred. The financial gains for the crew members would be enormous; greed does do strange things to people.”
“Well I don't believe it for a minute,” insisted Fred.
Michael spoke again, "There is nothing to be gained by closing your mind to any eventuality. I am a newcomer to the Company and, at the present time, can think without emotional involvement. In a few years time I might adopt your attitude, Mr. Ford, but for the present I must remain cynical for all our sakes.”
Mr. Ford and Sir Richard nodded in agreement.
Michael continued, “The most we can expect to gain is the recovery of the ships and the hides of the men or things who have perpetrated this atrocity, if, indeed there has been one. I personally do not believe that any untrained man would have a clue how to pilot a C.A.M.I.D. powered vessel, however in time they could learn. These vessels must not be allowed to remain in the wrong hands. If I cannot recapture them, I intend to destroy them any way I can.”
There was a stunned silence round the table. Finally Sir Richard spoke, “It is inevitable, I suppose. At the bottom of my heart I hoped to find the ships and crews still intact but, in reality, it is probably very unlikely. Your appreciation of this situation is very pragmatic, Captain you’re a hard man when you have to be.”
Michael smiled coldly, “I do not enjoy it, Sir Richard, but conjecture will get us nowhere. Only straight facts acquired the hard way are going to get answers in this case.”
"Again your thinking is correct. Have you anything else to add?"
“One last item, but an important one,” continued Michael. “Communications are going to be very important. I want to be able to contact the Company Base anytime I think fit, so please could you arrange to have a station manned twenty-four hours a day specifically for this mission. The twelve hour report will still apply, but only as routine. Any important messages will be sent on the scrambler and even if we lose contact, please keep the station manned for a while afterwards.
It would also be a good idea to have a remotely controlled distress beacon hidden inside the hull of the freighter which could be activated by any search vessel if the worst comes to the worst and we are taken. This would give them a clue where to search, even if it was discovered after only a few minutes." Fred Ford was amending his list and added, "This really should be standard equipment on all our vessels from now on, Sir Richard.”
"Yes I agree, see to it please, Fred.”
The three men sat silently for a moment, it seemed as though the talking was over.
"Well it seems that it just remains for me to wind up this meeting,” said Sir Richard finally. “Captain Stephens, we endorse your plan and give it our full backing. I would personally like to thank you for the selfless attitude and clear thinking which you brought to this meeting.
I hope you do not need it but I am going to wish you 'Good Luck' anyway. We all have our separate tasks to do, so let us not waste any time and be about our business. Captain Stephens, you now have our high level security clearance and I would appreciate it if you would tour this complex and familiarize yourself with its departments and facilities before you leave tomorrow. I will arrange it for you. That is all Gentlemen. Please seal your security cases."
They obediently complied and Sir Richard released the room from its 'Secure Mode'. As they left the room Fred Ford turned and said, "Look Michael, I know everything is happening very quickly, too quickly for me, but can we have a quiet chat before we do anything else?"
Michael suddenly felt very concerned for him and replied, "Of course Fred, will my quarters do?”
"Yes, they will do nicely and thanks for sparing me the time."
Ten minutes later they were inside Michael's room and the bar was open. Michael mixed an ample gin and tonic for Fred in the English way with a little ice and a slice of lemon, then he mixed another fruit juice and sat down opposite Fred.
"What's on your mind, Fred?" probed Michael.
"I'll come straight to the point," he said and took a pull at his glass. "It isn't common knowledge but there was a crew member in the Titan called Frank Jennings. He was the First Officer and looking forward to a very promising career."
"Is he one of your relatives?"
"Yes, he is, or was, my Son," confessed Fred sadly.
"Now I understand your emotional attachment and involvement in this case. Does Sir Richard know?”
“The answer to that is probably yes: he knows most things about the Company. We have never discussed it, I just wanted the boy to succeed on his own merits. My wife and I were divorced before he was born; it was the pressure of my work here. I was never at home for long and she got fed up and left. Frank was born when I was halfway to Mars; I hardly saw him at all as a baby. My wife had reassumed her maiden name before he was born, but he is my Son.”
Michael felt very sorry for him. Even a hard-nosed business man like Fred had his problems underneath that rugged exterior.
"I can't promise much, Fred, but I can promise you that I will be thorough in the search and if he is still alive I will do my utmost to find him. If not, I will try to bring those responsible to justice, or administer my own if that proves to be necessary.”
“I cannot ask for anything more, but I wanted you to know before you left just what the circumstances were. You know, of course, that I will be doing everything I can to assist you in your mission."
“Yes I do,” said Michael, “And thank you for confiding in me. Like you I will not discuss this matter with anybody.”
Fred pulled himself together with an effort, drained his glass and said grimly, "Well, I'd better get started, I don't want to be the one responsible for holding you up."
With that he turned and left the room. Michael sat there a while longer pondering this latest piece of information. It did not really change anything, he would have done the mission anyway for the unknown crew members; still he hoped that he could help Fred but in his heart he felt that there was little hope. He was jerked out of his thoughts by the buzzer of the video-com. It flashed into life and Charlotte Linaker spoke to him from the screen. "Good morning Captain, I believe Sir Richard has asked you to make a tour of the complex this afternoon?”
She looked very efficient in her Company uniform and her hair tied back.
Michael replied equally formally, “Yes, Miss Linaker, you are quite correct.”
Her face softened as she smiled, "Well can you be ready for one o-clock and I will conduct the tour personally?”
"I will look forward to that and thank you."
“You're very welcome, Captain. Goodbye for now.” The screen went blank.
Michael started to do his packing in readiness for his trip tomorrow. He changed out of his full dress uniform and into his working attire which was still smart but less ornate. He transferred his security tag and suddenly remembered the little black box with the golden comets in it. He took them out and studied them; they were beautiful.
He felt quite proud of himself as he pinned them on his lapels and adjusted them until they were perfectly matched. He had half an hour to spare and suddenly felt hungry. He contacted 762 who quickly brought him a bowl of soup and some sandwiches. He sat down and ate them appreciatively and prepared himself for what he hoped would be an interesting and informative afternoon. He was quite sure that he was going to enjoy it, simply because of the company he would be keeping.
That company arrived at precisely one o-clock, as promised, complete with a clipboard and an itinerary. They exchanged greetings and set off on their tour. Charlotte was deep in her official role as Senior Personnel Adviser and it soon became apparent to Michael that she was deeply respected throughout the Company, furthermore she turned out to be articulate and knowledgeable in every aspect of the Company's affairs.
Their tour took them through some of the component assembly lines. C.A.M.I.D. systems were made only on this complex and the Company produced every single component themselves. Michael found it interesting to see the entrails of the system which he used so well. The systems were always made to be inaccessible in the military vessels and it was the first time Michael had seen the huge valves with their strange convolutions. He realized that although he was a good practical mechanic and technician this was a specialty way above him; he found it to be absorbing and informative nonetheless.
The high point of the afternoon was the visit to hangar 'G.' Here Michael met his next command, the freighter Atlas. This was the one Sir Richard had assigned to the mission. It was a fine vessel and only six months old. He tried hard to show only a passing interest but he soon noticed two technicians gently easing back what was normally an ordinary panel in readiness for the distress beacon which he had requested, and was on a work bench close by.
He was amazed at the size of the vessels which were at least sixty feet wide and varied between three hundred and twenty-five and four hundred feet long, depending on how many containers they were carrying. He was surprised that he felt a touch of excitement at commanding a vessel he would have scorned five years ago.
From hangar 'G' they went to the 'High Security Cargo Preparation Compound.' At this point they both had to give their tags and submit to voice recognition procedures before being allowed entry. The security guards were carrying weapons, conventional types, and there were two manned machine gun posts to deter any would be aggressors or thieves. Michael also recognized the latest ground to air missiles, the G.A.350s, which would definitely deter any airborne attacks on the establishment. Sir Richard certainly did not trust to luck. There were many containers grouped here with vast quantities of merchandise in the warehouses.
The loading sequence was quite fascinating. The items were stacked inside the containers using adjustable shelving where necessary. The inside of the container contained a heavy, plastic-type, loose sheeting which was quite elastic and pliable. When the load was completed the outer doors were sealed and a polystyrene foam was pumped in between the outer casing and the plastic sheet which, eventually, firmly gripped the articles inside without damaging them and so prevented them from moving and vibrating.
The foam itself was a valuable commodity in the Asteroids where it was used as insulation against the intense cold.
The containers were transported to the hangars by underground railways where the final assembly of the loaded freighters was completed prior to launching. The whole business a skilful operation and Michael was impressed. The tour continued, taking in the Workshop and Servicing areas, the Catering Centre, Security H.Q., Sales Offices, Communications Centre ( an amazingly hi-tech operation), and finally the Armoury.
The Armoury was a surprise to Michael. Considering that the Company did not overtly carry weapons, the stock of the different types of weapons was staggering; everything from hand pistols to advanced missiles were included. There was also a weapon under wraps that he was not allowed to see. He was simply told that the world was not ready for this one yet. What was most certain was that anybody who came here looking for trouble would definitely find it.
Eventually the tour finished and to his astonishment Michael realized that it was six o-clock in the evening.
“Would you care to dine with me tonight?” asked Charlotte as they walked back towards the living quarters.
“I would be most honoured," said Michael gallantly.
“Oh no," quipped Charlotte. "I will be the envy of every female in the Company, so it is me that will be feeling honoured. It isn't every day that you get to date a man who is wearing a pair of Crest Comets."
“Oh, you noticed them, they really are beautiful, aren't they?”
"It's what they stand for that counts, Silly," growled Charlotte, “You do realize that the fact that Sir Richard sees fit to let you wear those gets you the immediate respect of every employee in the Company. Yours are the first I have ever seen.”
“I don't know what all the fuss is about,” complained Michael, “I didn't do anything special."
“Well, they think you did and that's all that matters,” chided Charlotte.
They arrived at Michael's quarters. “Are you fussy about what you eat?” asked Charlotte.
"No, I'm very easy to please."
"Good, we'll take half an hour to shower and freshen up and I will send my Maid to pick you up. I am going to cook dinner for us, and by the way. ..."
“Yes?”
“Dress will be informal, No new uniforms, please.”