Méridien (The Silver Ships Book 3) (46 page)

Alex sent.

Julien replied.

Alex and the First went back to observing the building of the shell while Alex waited for the model. Hours later, a transport pulled up and a New Terran tech jumped out with a bundle in his arms and raced toward Alex. He arrived panting, and his eyes started to roll up in his head. Étienne grabbed his arm to steady him, and Alex pulled out his coat’s oxygen tube and plugged it into his nostrils.

When the tech’s vision cleared and he steadied, Alex admonished, “A few ticks more or less will not matter in what we do, Lamont. At the present time, we have no enemies who threaten us.”

“Your pardon, Mr. President. I was told this delivery was critical.”

“Understood, Lamont. Oxygen plugs first … hurry later.”

After the tech left, Alex walked with the First over to the house site. Alex displayed the model, removing the roof to show the home’s interior. Eyestalks compared the model to the outline Alex had made in the sand. His sharp whistle of “Affirmative” pierced the air, and he scurried off to draft his own crew.

“I’m going to space the Home Committee,” Alex muttered, taking off after the leader. What he didn’t need was to have the Swei Swee females pulled off the shell’s construction to build his home. When he caught up with the First, it took another half-hour to get across the idea of traveler first and then his home. Eventually the leader understood, whistling his affirmative, and then leapt into the pool, joining several matrons who were taking a break and wetting their breath-ways.

Mickey, who had been party to the entire episode of the First and the committee, asked, “You sure about this, Mr. President … the Swei Swee building your home, I mean?”

“No, Mickey, I’m not. But if this is what it takes to keep our First happy, it’s a small sacrifice,” Alex replied. “Besides, Mickey, think of the prestige. Renée and I will be living in possibly the only Swei Swee built home for humans.”

“What I’m thinking, Mr. President, is the mood you might be in every morning when you come to work, leaving a home you can’t stand the sight of.”

Mickey transported the Swei Swee spit samples back to the fabrication facilities, specifically the transport hatch testing room. The analysis of the saliva compounds gave the SADEs the answer they had sought. There was the briefest moment of celebration between Julien, Cordelia, Z and Mutter before Julien contacted Mickey.

The engineering team felt exhilarated and worked around the chronometer for two days to test the new concept. They combined the Swei Swee process with human tech. Each edge of a cut panel was coated with an application of nanites that had proven to bond with the Swei Swee shell. A second, controllable layer of nanites was laid over the first application. A traveler’s controller could signal this second layer of nanites to form or release their bonds.

The concept’s true beauty was that the switchable coatings when linked to complete the seal could be tuned to the shell’s resonance. Once the process was refined, a final test was performed on a fresh meter-square piece of shell. A square was cut from the middle of the shell, and the fixed nanites were bonded to the cut edges. Then the second nanites coat was applied and the square was replaced in the opening. The opposite edges of the shell were tied into a controller, completing a circuit.

When an engineer activated the controller, sending a signal to the switchable nanites, the square snapped tightly into place. Then Mickey tuned the switchable nanites to match the resonance that had been detected in the shell before the square was cut out. The final step was the application of a wave generator. The engineers and techs held their breath as the strength of the resonance was checked. It worked—the cut-out square stayed locked in place and the resonance level was maintained.

The engineers celebrated, jumping up and down and dancing around. Mickey called for quiet for the final step. The controller sent a release signal to the tunable nanites, and the square dropped out of the shell.

Mickey commed,

Alex sent. Next, he linked to the SADEs.

When Alex cut the comm, the SADEs reviewed the next hurdles, as the President had called them, to prioritize their new points of focus. Few Harakens realized the extent to which the SADEs were incrementally managing the efforts of the people to achieve goals that rewarded both humans and SADEs. Actually “few” was a misnomer. Only one human knew the truth, and he was the one requesting the SADEs’ help.

Emotions ran high on the day of the traveler’s first test flight, and it wasn’t just for a successful flight. Mickey had explained repeatedly that the day’s test was only a lift test, but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone. Hundreds of people had assembled to witness the historic event, and the entire flotilla was watching.

The traveler floated over its grav-lift cradle in Hellébore’s early morning light. Coral light splashed across the translucent shell’s blues, greens, and creams. This was no dark traveler, and Alex was infinitely grateful that his people would not be easily reminded of their nemesis.

The engineers had cut a small one-meter-square hatch in the side of the traveler for access by the pilots. Alex had considered requesting volunteers for the test flight until cold, hard logic took over, and he asked Commander Reynard and Lieutenant Ellie Thompson. He had been surprised and pleased that both felt honored to have been considered and readily accepted.

The traveler floated a meter above the cradle, and the hatch was another two and a half meters up the side of the traveler, necessitating a maintenance grav-lift for entry. Alex greeted his two pilots, exchanging polite conversation until Mickey, with the SADEs’ approval, signaled all was ready. The pilots turned to board the craft, and Alex followed—only to be halted by the pilots, who had stopped and abruptly turned around. René, Tatia, Tomas, Eric, and the twins took up stances beside the pilots, and Alex’s senior officers stood behind them. Alex took a small step back at the faces that challenged him. His anger rose, and he thought to argue, but these were his close friends, and he hadn’t the heart to fight them. As quickly as his anger had risen, it subsided. When he felt in control again, he raised his hands out to his sides in surrender, saying, “Safe flight, pilots.” In a fluid movement, the pilots saluted and headed for the grav-lift while Alex’s people formed beside and behind him again as if nothing had happened.

One senior member who hadn’t left Alex’s side during the confrontation had been the First, who warbled softly at Alex. The easily translated message said, “Star Hunter First seeks shelter, positive.” A sharp claw was held up and Alex rapped it twice with a knuckle.

Renée had resumed her place beside Alex. She felt angry and ashamed at the resistance she had organized, knowing full well what Alex had intended to do. That every participant in her resistance had readily agreed to her request didn’t mitigate her feelings. They had denied Alex a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He would have been one of the first to ride aboard a Haraken traveler. Renée sincerely hoped her desire to keep Alex safe would not injure their partnership.

Sheila and Ellie had visited the traveler’s fabrication site many times to become familiar with the frame’s grav-drive and equipment that had been installed. Mickey had made the decision to create as exact a copy of the dark traveler as he could. Therefore, their Haraken traveler had no human amenities, no shuttle seats, no galley, and no refresher. There were two pilot chairs and a human-built controller to interface with the Nua’ll circuitry.

At the test site, the maintenance grav-lift elevated the pilots up to the small hatch, but they were forced to hunch down and crab-walk to reach the interior.

“A little inelegant for such an auspicious occasion is it not, Commander?” Ellie quipped, bent over double and staring at the broad beam of her Commander.

“I don’t mind the crawling in, Lieutenant, as long as I will have the opportunity to crawl back out,” Sheila replied.

“You have a manner of striking to the truth of a matter, Commander,” Ellie said.

Once strapped into their chairs, the pilots reviewed their controller’s command-control sequences for the thousandth time. When ready, Sheila signaled the controller to close the hatch, and she was rewarded with a feedback signal of a complete seal. Immediately the controller registered an energy surge on the shell. Per Mickey’s instructions, they were to wait until the collectors registered three-quarters full. The grav-drives would require nowhere near that amount of power for the test, but the engineers and SADEs were collecting vast amounts of data at every tick.

For today’s test, the pilots would engage the drive, lift the traveler straight up for one hundred meters, hover as they rotated on a horizontal plane for 360 degrees, and then return the vessel to its cradle. There was only one problem—without flight simulation practice or drive power testing, the controller interface couldn’t be calibrated. The controller could certainly signal when one hundred meters in altitude was reached, but how much signal was required to drive the traveler to that altitude was unknown.

In addition, Sheila and Ellie flew an empty traveler. There were no hive members and no payload. So when Sheila signaled the controller to direct their flight straight up at 20 percent power, the traveler shot up and out of the atmosphere.

Alex sent, exercising his priority mode,

Sheila replied, mirth sprinkling her thoughts.

Mickey said.

Sheila replied soberly. But the look she and Ellie shared was anything but sober. They were two teenage girls who saw the opportunity for mischief. Since they were already in orbit and still accelerating, Sheila chose to stretch the traveler’s virtual legs, and the pilots took turns testing the controls while they circled the flotilla’s ships.

At one point, Ellie had command control and spotted one of Little Ben’s incoming ice asteroids, and she brought the traveler around to keep pace with it. The controller relayed a wealth of energy data it collected from the shell to the pilots’ helmets. They were able to monitor the ice and space dust streaking off the asteroid as it neared the planet and Hellébore. Entering Haraken’s atmosphere, ice water boiled off the asteroid in great quantities, and the imagery was relayed to the flotilla, courtesy of Julien.

Alex sent.

Ellie shared a chastened grin with Sheila and relinquished command control.

Sheila acknowledged.

Once the traveler was resettled in its cradle, the pilots crawled out through the hatch to the cheers and applause of the crowd. As their grav-lift reached the ground, they watched the audience make way for Alex as he marched toward them. Ellie glanced at her Commander and found her wearing the same expression of concern as she did.

Several thoughts raced through Sheila’s mind to explain their deviation from orders as her President came face-to-face with her. But instead of the severe reprimand she expected, Alex grabbed her face and planted a full kiss on her mouth.

Alex finished his kiss, but he still held Sheila’s face in his hands. He shook it gently side to side, giving her a huge smile and simply said, “Well done, Sheila. You have my deepest thanks.”

Much relieved that they were not on the receiving end of the President’s wrath, Ellie could not believe she heard herself say, “I was a pilot too, Mr. President.”

Alex regarded the slender Haraken with the elfin face and gently cupped her chin to place a chaste kiss on her forehead.

Later, Sheila asked Ellie, “Why the glum face, Lieutenant? We just flew the first alien ship.”

Ellie replied, “I was hoping for a kiss like yours, Commander. It appeared … nice.”

Sheila smiled, recalling the kiss, and said, “Our President has been practicing, and let’s just say he has gotten quite good.”