Ark Royal

Chapter Thirty-Nine

It had taken a considerable amount of polite arguing before Ted had been able to convince Commander Fitzwilliam that he should be allowed to board the alien craft. Captains were not supposed to risk themselves, Fitzwilliam had pointed out, reminding Ted that most television or datanet programs were grossly unrealistic. Ted had countered by reminding his XO that the alien ship had been rendered safe and he was damned if he wasn't going to take a look at it, just once. He certainly had never expected to be able to visit an alien ship before the war started — or even after it, for that matter.

Oddly, the alien craft was slightly disappointing. Once he’d come to terms with the moist atmosphere — the doctors insisted on everyone using breathmasks until they were sure there was nothing harmful in the alien atmosphere — he’d realised that there wasn't anything too different from human technology at all. Part of his mind realised that wasn't actually a bad thing — something based on completely different principles would require years to unravel, if it could be unravelled at all — but he couldn't help feeling as if some of the wonder of the universe had faded away.

He couldn't help envying the aliens for the sheer amount of joy they'd worked into their creation. Human starships were boxy, built more for utility than elegance; the only truly elegant human ships were the handful of luxury liners that plied the tramlines between Earth and the various wonders of the human sphere. They’d been built by shipping corporations willing to expend the money to design ships that looked spectacular, despite the inefficiencies. The aliens, it seemed, cared less for cost and more for elegance.

Or maybe there’s something in them that wants to beautify their ships, he thought. There were human movements that wanted to produce ships identical to science-fantasy ships from the previous two centuries. Most of them were utterly unworkable, at least as military starships, but civilian models could work if someone put up the cash. Wouldn’t we, if we could get it to work?

“We’ve moved the prisoners to Ark Royal,” Major Parnell said, when Ted finally reached the alien engineering compartment. “None of them talked to us, so we put them in with the others, in hopes they would speak.”

Ted nodded. The more samples of alien words they recorded, the quicker it would be to decipher the alien tongue. “And the self-destruct?”

“We accidentally disabled it, according to the engineers,” Parnell admitted. “We got lucky, sir.”

“I know,” Ted said. He looked over at Anderson, who seemed to have merged a chunk of human technology into an alien control system. “What can you tell me?”

“Good news and bad,” Anderson grunted. The engineer pulled himself away from the merged system with obvious reluctance. “I think I've figured out how they extend the range of their FTL drive; they actually create a stream of gravity pulses that boost the potential tramline into reality long enough for them to use it. It's actually much more flexible than we realised, sir. We may discover that there are more than two tramlines in this system.”

Ted blinked in surprise. “How do you figure that?”

He held up a hand. “Spare me the technobabble,” he said, quickly. “Just plain English, please.”

“There's a difference between potential tramlines and real ones,” Anderson said. “Our assumption was that it was impossible to actually do more than ride the tramlines we knew to be real. But this left us with the mystery of why some tramlines exist and others do not — or at least seem not to exist. It’s possible that space is threaded with potential tramlines the aliens might be able to activate at will.”

“I see,” Ted said. There were five known tramlines leading from the Sol System to various destinations, nine counting the projected alien tramlines. But what if there were more? The aliens might be able to leapfrog across far more of humanity’s territory than the Admiralty had realised. “Can we duplicate the system?”

“There shouldn't be any problems with producing a duplicate,” Anderson said. “I’d prefer not to start dissecting the system until we got back to Earth, though. The alien command and control unit is quite complex and I don’t want to risk annoying it.”

“Which leads back to the important question,” Ted said. “Can we use the drive to get back home?”

“Easily,” Anderson said. He grinned, suddenly. “We’d just have to secure Ark Royal’s hull to the alien ship.”

Ted blanched. Securing one capital ship to another was dangerous, even when both ships belonged to the Royal Navy. If something went wrong on the alien ship and she exploded — he found himself wishing that he knew the ship’s name — Ark Royal would be caught in the blast. Even her armour probably wouldn't provide protection against such a close encounter.

“Do it,” he ordered. If nothing else, the reporters would get one hell of a story. And besides, if they got home, the entire crew would be eligible for the prize money. “But I suggest you hurry.”

James couldn't help feeling nervous as the engineering crew carefully linked the two starships together, ensuring that parting contact was impossible. He couldn't help the feeling that it would be impossible with or without the cords; Ark Royal moved like a wallowing pig and the alien starship, as yet unnamed, was little better. The engineers might be fascinated by the chance to study so much alien technology, but James had to concentrate on the dangers. And it was perhaps the riskiest manoeuvre the Royal Navy had ever carried out, at least in the face of the enemy.

“We’re linked, sir,” Anderson reported, finally. “We’ve attached a tube so crewmen can move between the two ships, as well as supervising the alien drive.”

“Understood,” James said. The reporters had been begging for a chance to board the alien craft as soon as they’d realised what had been accomplished. He sighed; sooner or later, he would have to surrender to their request, even though it was quite likely that all of the details would be thoroughly classified. The Royal Navy wouldn't want to give up any intelligence on the alien ships without a fight — or at least getting something of equal value in return. “When can we jump?”

“I’d prefer to spend more time monitoring the alien power curves,” Anderson said, “but we should be able to jump as soon as we reach the tramline.”

James smiled, ruefully. The longest jump ever recorded — at least before the aliens arrived — was ten light years — and that had only been possible because both stars were massive enough to create a longer than normal tramline running between them. Now, Ark Royal was going to set a record, at least until human researchers started messing around with the potentials of the alien drive system. Genuine original science would be done, Anderson had claimed, during one of his brief naps. Humanity would learn a great deal from the alien ship.

“Good,” he said. Manoeuvring interlinked ships through interplanetary space would be tricky, but doable. “We will leave as soon as the Captain gives the command.”

Ted felt his heartbeat pounding faster and faster as the conjoined ships entered the phantom tramline. Human technology could barely detect its existence, let alone traverse it to an unknown destination. But the alien systems seemed to have no difficulty recognising that it was there. He hesitated as the two ships came to a halt — the whole jump was dangerous enough without trying to do it at speed — then gave the order. The universe seemed to darken…

For a terrified moment, he was sure he’d killed them all. The moment of darkness stretched on and on, then cleared with astonishing speed. He felt his ship lurch, as if it had rammed something, then quieten down. The display was already starting to fill up with data.

“We made it, sir,” Lightbridge said. “All systems report nominal.”

Ted sat back in his chair, feeling sweat running down his back. Fourteen light years. They’d jumped fourteen light years, effectively instantaneously. And the aliens did it all the time. The implications hadn't changed from the conclusions in the half-panicky reports he’d been sent the Admiralty, but they hadn't quite seemed real. Now… now he comprehended, finally, that the territory the aliens controlled might be much greater than the human sphere.

“We have several reports of crewmen fainting,” Commander Fitzwilliam said. There was an odd note of amusement in his voice, which seemed out of place until he continued. “All, but two of the reporters also fainted.”

Ted nodded, then looked down at his console as the reports flowed in from all over the ship — both ships. Spacers were used to normal jumps, but this one had been unusually violent, although no one was quite sure why. Perhaps it explained, he decided, why the aliens were so lax about chasing the human ships through the tramlines. Their drives reacted poorly when asked to jump at speed.

“Check the aliens,” he ordered. Was it possible that they were stunned… or dead? “How did they handle the jump?”

“They seem fine, sir,” Major Parnell reported, two minutes later. “But clearly a little agitated.”

Ted nodded. Clearly, the aliens had sensed the jump… but they hadn't suffered any real ill effects. Were they experienced spacers, then, or were the aliens actually less inclined to be harmed by the jump?

“Understood,” he said, finally. “Keep an eye on them.”

He keyed his console, linking directly to Anderson. The Chief Engineer and a third of his staff had taken up permanent residence on the alien ship, despite the doctor’s warnings that they still couldn't guarantee that the environment was safe. Anderson sounded tired, but very happy when he answered the call.

“The jump functioned as advertised,” he said. “If we lose the alien Puller Drive next time, sir, we will probably still be able to devise our own version.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ted said. He looked at the new star system on the display, his eyes tracking the four tramlines leading out of it and back towards human space. Two of them were useless without the alien drive. “Can we jump again?”

“I think so,” Anderson said. “We only need three more jumps to get us back to Earth.”

Ted shook his head in disbelief. Three more jumps… when it had taken nine to reach New Russia from Earth. They’d be jumping through the scene of their first successful engagement, he saw, as the helmsman plotted out the series of jumps. Three more jumps…

“The sooner we duplicate this system, the better,” he said, flatly. “We need it for ourselves.”

“I never expected to survive,” Rose said.

Kurt nodded. She'd come to his office… but instead of making love to him at once she'd sat down, twisting her hands in her lap. Oddly, he found himself torn between relief and disappointment. He might have cheated on his wife, but he wasn’t going to deny that the sex had been great. But really… what kind of future could Rose and he have, even if he left Molly for her? He was old enough — almost — to be her father. He’d be old and gray long before her.

“Nor did I,” he said. He swallowed. It was time to act the mature adult. “Rose… what do you actually want from me?”

“I don't know,” Rose confessed. “I want you and I don’t want you and I don't want to hurt your children and yet I don’t care if they get hurt…”

It took Kurt a moment to untangle her words and understand just how conflicted she was. “I understand why you came to me,” he said, carefully. “I wasn't only experienced” — Rose gave him a look that told him precisely where he could shove his experience — “but I was also safe.”

“Most starfighter pilots are selfish,” Rose said. “You weren't selfish.”

Kurt almost pointed out that Rose had been having an affair with one, which had resulted in her assignment to Ark Royal, but stopped himself just in time. It would have been thoughtlessly cruel to say something like that to anyone, particularly someone who had lost the lover in question soon afterwards. Survivor’s Guilt had probably played a big role in Rose’s decision to find someone else as quickly as possible.

And you are not blameless, he told himself, shortly. You didn't say no when she took off her top, did you?

Rose had been more than a little selfish herself, he acknowledged, but he hadn't been much better. No, he corrected himself ruthlessly, he hadn't been better at all. He’d made love to her despite having a family back on Earth, a family that would be torn apart by his betrayal… and it was a betrayal. Perhaps he could have sat down with Molly and talked their way through their problems, sharing blame as well as responsibility to find a resolution. Who knew — maybe they’d separate, but stay close for the sake of the kids.

And that might be tricky, he thought. Because you certainly didn't consult with Molly before finding someone else…

“I was,” Kurt said. Rose gave him an uncomprehending look. She was young and far too used to the immature idiocy of starfighter pilots who knew they could die at any second. It would be years before she gained the perspective that would show her that love wasn't just about sharing a bed, but sharing an entire life. “I could have told you to fuck off.”

A faint smile ghosted over Rose’s cheeks. “No man has ever said that to me,” she said, deadpan. Someone her age would have missed the pain hidden under the boasting. “And I’d bet that none ever will.”

“Probably not,” Kurt said. He cursed himself mentally, then looked up at her, trying not to imagine her body under her flight suit. It would be so easy, he knew, to pull her to him… and he was certain she wouldn't object. His cock twitched at the thought. But it would send the wrong message. “Rose…”

He leaned forward. “What we did, when we thought we would both die, was wrong.”

“I didn't notice you objecting,” Rose pointed out, snidely.

“I didn't,” Kurt said. “And if I’d known we would return to Earth, I would have objected strongly. But I didn't know.”

He pressed on, remorselessly. “I have a wife and children as well as a career,” he added. “You have a career, a career that has already been dented by one affair. And… I don't know how you feel about me, but I am not a good choice for you over the long term.”

Rose looked down at the deck. “Are you going to report me? Report us?”

Kurt shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. The report would destroy both of their careers, even if they were heroes — and rich heroes at that, if the prize money came through as expected. They would probably be permanently beached or dishonourably discharged. And, in his case, it would probably cost him his marriage too.

“No,” he said, when he could finally form words. “But I am not going to make love to you anymore.”

He’d expected anger, he’d expected a shouting match… but she responded with a calm sadness that worried him. As CAG, it was his duty to counsel any of pilots who required counselling -- he might have lacked training, but at least he wasn't an idiot psychologist — yet his relationship with her was hopelessly compromised. He couldn't play her father or a senior officer when they’d had sex countless times. And who could Rose talk to who wouldn't betray her confidences?

“I understand,” she said, quietly.

She stood, gave him a brief and formal hug, then turned and marched out of his quarters as if she were passing out on parade. Kurt watched her go, torn between calling her back and letting her go — and, perhaps, asking the doctor to speak to her. The doctor would keep secrets unless they threatened the integrity of the crew.

Idiot, he told himself as the hatch hissed closed. What do you think your secret has done?

“Jump completed, sir.”

Ted smiled as the familiar shape of the Sol System appeared on the display. He’d taken the precaution of insisting they came out of the tramline some distance from Earth, just in case Earth’s defenders were in a shoot first and ask questions later mode, but it seemed as though his precautions had been unnecessary. The closest human starship was over a light minute away.

“Send our IFF,” he ordered. The defenders, seeing them come out of a phantom tramline, would be more than a little suspicious. It would take time to reassure them. “And hold position here until they reply.”

It was nearly thirty minutes before a giant modern carrier, surrounded by a dozen frigates, approached Ark Royal. Ted smiled as her IFF — USS Enterprise — popped up on the display. Like most American carriers, she was overpowered and over-engineered… and, like all of the other modern carriers, hopelessly vulnerable if faced with alien starfighters. Ted felt his smile grow wider as electronic handshakes were exchanged, confirming that neither ship was under alien control. Whatever he was offered, he was damned if he was exchanging Ark Royal for any modern starship.

“They're asking what the hell we've attached to our hull,” Annie said, finally.

Ted smirked. “Tell them it’s several billion pounds worth of prize money,” he said. He wished, suddenly, that he’d thought to fly the skull and crossbones. Too late now. “And ask them for an escort back to Earth.”

He sat back as the giant carrier turned back towards Earth, her starfighters flying past Ark Royal in welcome. They’d made it.

They were home.