Torna

Live
by
the
Sword . . .

An Adventure Novel of Swords and Space and Such by B W Canfield

Torna: Chapter One

In 1959, the Soviet Union placed the satellite Sputnik into orbit around the Earth. In 1969 the United States of America placed a man upon the moon. Soon thereafter came the Spacelab, Mir, and the Space Shuttle. These were the publicly acknowledged accomplishments of man’s efforts to explore space. Technology available to the public advanced apace of the international space programs. By 1983, without the public’s knowledge, a manned spacecraft circled Mars and returned home safely. In 1988, the first fusion reaction was achieved. In 1998, man reached Pluto, the limit of our solar system. Soon after that, the internationally supported spacecraft Isaac Newton approached the speed of light.

A group of international entrepreneurs and world leaders formed the Inter-national Space Exploration Group (ISEG), with the purpose of exploring the viability and potential of a neighboring solar system. The largest, most extensive and ambitious project in mankind’s history, ISEG drew from the resources of the entire planet. The International, as our ship came to be called, was constructed on the dark side of the moon.

She was about the size of a WWII aircraft carrier. Being extensively automated and computerized, we were able to handle her with a crew of 250. The aircraft carrier Midway, by comparison, required a crew of 4,500.

The International was constructed around a central core, a cylindrical fusion reactor, which was the heart of a system called F.E.M.S.A., the Focused, Electro-Magnetic Shaped Array. She was shaped like a giant, hollow cylinder, with the ship on the outside and the reactor on the inside, with the necessary walkways and maintenance cells connecting everything together. She had everything a small town in space would need to survive on our own out there. We had a laundry service, with the most high tech dry cleaning you have ever seen. There was one deck entirely devoted to the Cray III supercomputers. There were three galleys, laboratories, male and female berthing, officer’s quarters, civilian and officer private offices and lounges, a medical deck with sick bay, an observatory, and an impressive machine shop. The top deck was the bridge, with an observation deck. On one of the lower decks, just above engineering, one of the labs was devoted to, of all things, animal husbandry, where they had pigs and rabbits, probably for experiments.

There was a weapons and armory deck, although the weapons were external lasers for purpose of shooting space debris or asteroids that may endanger the ship. One of the astronomers told me that in deep space, there were very few atoms, let alone space debris; but somebody with more pull (and money) than brains said they were necessary, so we had lasers. The rest of the armory consisted of a few tasers and shotguns armed with non-lethal bean bags. The powers that be figured out that bullets and spacecraft might not mix; but to that end, the small security force on board might need to subdue someone with terminal cabin fever, hence the bean bags and tasers.

The crew was made up of three elements: scientists, astronauts, and a few civilians, drawn from an international pool. We had astronomers, physicists, engineers, electricians, mechanics, pilots, soldiers, historians, anthropologists, linguists, weapons experts, astro-physicists, computer programmers, analysts, medical personnel, athletic trainers, sociologists, psychologists, chemists, photographers, cooks and maintenance personnel.

We launched during a lunar eclipse, for security reasons, I guess. The next week was our ‘shake-down’ period. At the end of the week, Lt. Lito Tanaka reported to Admiral Richard Nagato that all systems were fully operational. The orders were given to lay in a course to take us out of our solar system and into open space.

It was shortly after leaving our solar system that my assistant, Lt. Ben McAbee, knocked on the door to my quarters.

"Come."

McAbee entered. "Are you busy, sir?"

"Not at all," I replied. "Just jotting down some notes from my introductory tour of the ship. What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I wanted to know when would be a good time to interview you. I would like to get your preliminary views of this mission, the ship, what you expect of the future, that sort of thing."

"I suppose, now is as good a time as any. But I don’t know that my views would necessarily be of any value to you."

"Col. Grant, as a liaison between your department and some of the others, I am in a unique position. I am proposing to keep a journal, updated regularly with interviews of the different personnel I come in contact with. Since the mission will last several years, I think an outside perspective could prove historically valuable. With your permission, of course, sir."

"Mr. McAbee, it could be years before you would be able to publish such a journal, if at all."

"It’s not for me, sir. I really am interested in the historical value and significance of this mission. Before I left Earth, I read up on Sacagawea, and some of the diaries of civil war soldiers; you know, things like that. When Lewis and Clark went on their expedition, who would have thought an Indian girl would be important to history? But today, everybody knows about her."

"O.K." I tapped my fingers on the tiny desk that folded down in my quarters. It wasn’t much, but on this particular ship it was a luxury, fold down or not. I thought for a moment before replying. Everything about this mission was absolutely secret; non-existent, even. On the other hand, it was my job, as an historian, to keep an official record of everything that happened. As the top liaison officer aboard, it was also my duty to see that all the different departments worked together smoothly, without a hitch. I wanted to be sure that nothing extraneous cause friction between any of the people McAbee interviewed. We all had to work and live together for a long time.

"All right, Mr. McAbee. Potentially, you do have a very good idea. My concern, of course, would be that the smooth operation of all departments remains a priority. Would you agree to keep me informed as to the general content and who you intend to interview? I’ll try not to interfere, but in the end, you realize that I am responsible for my department."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir. I see your point, and I will be discreet. I will keep you informed. And I’ll try not to make any waves."

"Good. Good. I don’t think there would ever be a problem, I just like to think ahead and try to cover all the bases. Now, what would you like to ask me about?"

"O.K. Thank you, Col. Grant. First, why do you think you were selected for the ISEG program? I mean, besides for meeting the main basic requirements- being Air Force, a degree in history, physically fit, intelligent and single, what made them pick you for one of the most important jobs on the most important expedition in history?"

"Well, I’ll tell you what they told me, and then I’ll tell you what I think."

"When the top brass was interviewing me, I noticed that they kept asking a lot of "What if" questions. You know, situational questions. "What if you had to decide what was right when two groups were arguing?’ or ‘What if you had to get something done, and you didn’t have the right equipment?’ That sort of thing. And it became obvious after a time that they were interested in how I dealt with and solved problems. So one day I went ahead and asked if that was what they were looking at me for. And they said that was one of the main things they liked about me- how I had handled the problems up at Elmendorf A.F.B; co-coordinating things between the Navy and Air Force brass etc., between the Air Force and the civilian contractors. And most of them, especially the civilian academics, said they appreciated the objectivity and candor in what I wrote. But personally, I think they picked me because I can get along with just about anybody. On a trip of this magnitude and duration, amicability, the ability to like people, and be liked by them, is going to be of utmost importance. And being an Olympic medalist in wrestling didn’t hurt, either."

"What do you think of the International? What do you like most about her, and what impresses you the most?"

"Well, like everyone else, the propulsion system just blows me away, pardon the pun. Also, the artificial gravity, and the attention to ergonomic detail, if you follow what I mean. Usually, the last thing you find on a military vessel is comfort. Soldiers and sailors just assume when you board a transport ship, or plane, you’re just going to be miserable. But the designers convinced the engineers that form could follow function, and that a happy, comfortable well rested crew would perform better and last longer. This will prove to be really important two years from now."

"You played a big part in that, didn’t you, Colonel?"

"I did push for a little extra effort in making things a little nicer for the crew, as well as the officers. I’m a big believer in the pay-offs that come from investing in your men. The intangibles, like loyalty and integrity, come from the respect you earn from your crew. And that is important to me."

We spoke for another 20 minutes or so, during which time I came to realize that McAbee really had a sincere interest in the historical significance if the mission. He also seemed to be keenly interested in the crew as people. He was aware that the personalities, the sum total of the persons on board, would soon leave an indelible mark on history; and he wanted to record it all as it unfolded. Pretty insightful for such a young man. I told him so.

"Lt. McAbee, I think I will be watching your work with some interest. I have a feeling that what you write may be just as important , in its own right, as the official papers.

"Thank you very much, Col. Grant. If you’ll excuse me, Chef Ludwig promised to show me around the mess facilities."

"Very well, Mr. McAbee, I will see you at dinner, then."

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Chapter Two

© 2009 B W Canfield
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