Retro Tomorrow: Part 6

Ambush

People were constantly being disappointed by space travel. That was because most space ships were small, cramped, box-like crafts. Old-style aero travel was glamorous in comparison. Never mind that these ships had some of the most advanced engines mankind had ever produced. Never mind that they had a degree of handling and control that was undreamed of. Never mind that the way they gleefully thumbed their noses at relativistic physics had made the colonization of space a physical reality in under a century. Space ships were ugly, and, therefore, no one was very interested.

This wasn't the case with the Glory. It was an aeronautical engineer's wet dream. It looked like someone had lacquered an eagle and then painted it gold. It stood there in the hangar that was adjacent to Dr Bartholomew's lab, somehow managing to find the self-respect to gleam, even though the room was almost entirely dark.

It seemed to be looking down at Jenny, silently saying to her, "Hey baby, forget these losers, let's go to some uncharted corner of the galaxy and get better acquainted."

"There are forms you have to fill out," interrupted Dr Bartholomew in his nasal whine, "That is, if you are sure you want the command."

Reluctantly Jenny tore her eyes away from the ship, how could she have even dreamed of refusing the commission.

Suddenly, a handkerchief was being given to her.

"You're drooling," said Betty with an evil smile. She was on her fourth cup of black coffee and had spent some time freshening up in the ladies room, so she now looked considerably more human.

If Jenny had not been so totally transfixed by the Glory, she had no doubt she could have come up with a devastating rejoinder to her friends comment. As it was, she just stared up at the ship with a sense of rapturous awe. She was hardly embarrassed at all when she noticed that she had been unconsciously dabbing at the saliva on the corner of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Andrew was looking at the ship a little more critically. He touched it carefully with his index finger.

"Warm," he said, "Its coated with nanotic solar cells? I didn't believe work on them had progressed past the theoretical."

Dr Bartholomew scowled, he had learned to loathe questions from Andrew, "Yes, well, we don't release all of our findings to the press."

"The paint is actually absorbing solar energy to power the ship," Andrew said to her, translating for the layman, then adding, "This new engine must use a huge amount of power."

Dr Bartholomew gave a pained look which Jenny knew meant that Andrew had caught him in a lie. The doctor was spared having to make a response by the Brigadier.

"Perhaps," he said, "Our new Captain Drake would like to take her ship on a test run, I'm sure that the paperwork can wait."

Dr Bartholomew clearly considered this the lesser of two evils.

"Fine," he said, hobbling towards the controls for the skylight. He flicked a switch and the ceiling of the hangar began to split in two.

Space Ports were always located high above any inhabited areas, for safety. Since Dr Bartholomew did so much aeronautics research, his lab was located at one of the highest points of the Academy, and it had its launch pad. Since so much of his work was experimental, it was located very far away from the official Academy space port.

As the skylight fell away, Jenny was treated to a breathtaking view of clear-blue sky unimpeded by any of the space-ships which so frequently cluttered up the sky.

Only it wasn't. Jenny noticed three black dots, in the sky, slowly growing larger before her eyes.

One look and Jenny knew that the Brigadier had seen them too. His body tensed up.

"This is a no-fly zone," he said, staring up at the dots.

Suddenly, the dots were very big indeed. From her courses in aircraft identification, Jenny recognized that they were Mercurian Light Warships. These were small, two-man ships used in bombing runs and in close combat. Everyone seemed transfixed by their approach. They must have been moving at terrific speed because they were now so close that Jenny could read their markings. Now they were close enough that Jenny could see their gun ports beginning to glow red, which, at the time, she recalled thinking was odd.

She remembered what happened next almost as if it was a dream, a barely coherent jumble of thoughts and sensations. She remembered being surprised and a little bit angry when the Brigadier suddenly and with no warning, grabbed her and roughly threw her to the floor. Then she heard the hot sizzle and smelled the faint whiff of ozone which was the hallmark of a ray blast. This was followed by the scream of metal being torn apart like tissue, then the smell of dust.

Something hard hit her head, and she gathered some time must have passed because someone kept screaming, "Are you alright? Are you alright?" at her. It was the Brigadier. Slowly, Jenny noticed that he was bleeding from his leg.

She wanted to tell him that she was fine, but the dust and the smoke which suddenly filled the room made it impossible. She nodded, which seemed to satisfy him, because he leaned backwards, groaning as he did so.

The hangar was covered in rubble. With relief, Jenny saw that the Glory was still in one piece. This was important, but at the moment she couldn't quite remember why. Surveying the room, Jenny noticed that Betty was still standing there, absurdly clutching her coffee cup, while she looked up out of the skylight. Then Jenny saw what she was looking at: the War Ships had veered back around for a second attack run. The gun port on the lead ship had begun to glow, and the only thing standing between it and the Glory was Betty, who stood their staring at it numbly, like a deer trapped in headlights.

Someone should do something, thought Jenny vaguely.

To be continued...