The Chronicles of Henry Harper Read online

  The Chronicles of Henry Harper

  Jacen Aster

  *******

  Copyright 2016 Jacen Aster

  Cover By: Cover Bistro

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Exploration

  Chapter 2: Of Aliens and Men

  Chapter 3: The A.I. Affair

  Chapter 4: Privateer’s Paradise

  Chapter 5: The Colony of Shien

  Chapter 6: The Gate to Everywhere

  Chapter 7: On Station 7

  Chapter 8: The Transient Planet

  Chapter 9: Children’s Tears

  Chapter 10: Starlit Politics

  Chapter 11: The Forgotten Planet

  Chapter 12: The Last Chronicle of Henry Harper

  Afterward

  Thank You!

  To my family who put up with me.

  To Matt (you know who you are) who believed in me even when I myself couldn't.

  And most of all to God, who saw me through all the lows and highs without fail, whether I deserved it or not.

  Chapter 1 - The Exploration

  My name is Henry Harper, and I am nobody important. I'd love to say I don't know why I'm writing this, but anyone who knows me can tell you I'm a sucker for puppy dog eyes and a pretty face. Doubly so when brought together. In this case, the eyes and face belong to Kayla, the ship’s new diplomatic assistant. I suspect only she and God know why a successful young beauty on the diplomatic fast-track has been slumming with the usual gallery of rogues and reprobates in the engineers’ quarters since her first day aboard ship. Whatever her reasons, it was only a few days into our voyage that she began pestering me to write down the stories of my “adventures,” as she insists on calling them. I confess, I can't see why anyone would be interested in the tales of an old engineer, no matter where said engineer has been and what he had seen there. Still, in the end, I buckled to the lethal puppy dog eyes and pretty face combination and agreed to document a few tales of my voyages.

  I suppose I should start at the beginning. I've always had a craving for adventure, and right out of technical training I managed to talk my way into the lowest rung of the engineering corps for the Experimental Space Vessel Exploration. Yes, that Exploration, the original proof-of-concept ship for faster-than-light travel, the very beginning of the great “diaspora” of humanity to the stars. I was just a snot-nosed nineteen-year-old kid at the time, only worth taking on because I was a prodigy with the new drive technologies. At any rate, I suppose I should get to the telling. It all started when I first arrived at the Exploration's shipyard. So, there I was, staring out the station viewport for my first sight of her half-finished hull....

  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

  Henry dropped his duffel by the station viewport and took a good look at the prototype he'd be working on for the next year, possibly longer. “That is a big ship,” he muttered, and it was definitely an understatement. At over four hundred meters long, fifty meters tall, and the same wide, the ship dwarfed nearly everything in the solar system that could move under its own power. The only exceptions he knew of were the monolithic city-ships mining the Kuiper Belt.

  He drew a deep breath as he took in the view and grinned. His former classmates were all insanely jealous that he'd managed a space berth right out of training. He hadn't had the heart to tell them it wasn't just any space berth, but aboard Jack Amaril's great experiment, the ship which was supposed to prove Einstein a fool.

  That thought caused Henry's grin to trade for a smirk. Only Amaril could get away with telling the whole scientific community that Einstein was “smoking something funny” and that his famous theory of special relativity was “total crap that no right-thinking individual would seriously consider.”

  Which was so much smoke and mirrors, of course. Mere showmanship for the common masses. In reality, Amaril's new “infinity” engine subverted and abused that very same theory...but it didn't break it. The trouble with accelerating to or past the speed of light is fundamentally about relativistic mass. At high fractions of light speed, relative mass increases, requiring an increase in power for each additional gain until the point is reached where infinite energy is needed to progress. Unless, of course, you're Jack Amaril, and you remembered that the whole point of the matter is that mass is energy and energy is mass. Find a way to steal the increase in mass and convert it to energy and you break the process. Amaril's infinity engines did just that. Subsequently converting the stolen mass into energy, then dumping it back into propulsion, was really just a bonus, all things considered. Thus, the mass of the ship is limited to its rest mass, denying the need for any increase of power, and the power is increased anyway, just for grins. Freed of the issue with increasing mass, surpassing the speed of light becomes inevitable rather than impossible.

  At least, that was the theory anyway. Henry didn't know if the man was right or not and honestly figured it didn't matter. Either the experiment worked, and he would be among the first to explore the newest frontier, or it didn't, and he would still get to play with the bleeding edge of new tech for as long as the experiment lasted.

  Smirk fading back to a small smile, he snatched up his duffel and headed for the main docking bridge to the ship. There was surprisingly little security, actually no security at all, until he reached the midway point. There he found a simple barrier with a bored-looking guard.

  The guard perked up at Henry’s approach and growled out a query. “You ain’t ‘nother of those ‘porter types, are you? If’n you is, you can just take y'self back the way ya came!”

  “Not me! I’m just a new engineer reporting for duty.” Pulling out his papers and ID from his duffel’s side pocket, Henry shoved them at the guard. “Have you really been having trouble with reporters?”

  “Reporting for duty? Whaddya think this is, the army?” Warily taking Henry's papers and looking them over carefully, the guard added, “Yeah, we’e been havin' 'porters snoopin' 'round 'ere from day one. Anything Mr. Amaril touches 'tracts 'em like flies ta honey.” Apparently satisfied with his inspection of Henry's papers, the guard handed them back and opened the barrier gate. His accent was notably absent and his eyes much sharper when he spoke again. “Straight on, then take a right to engineering. Once you hit the engineering section, ask for Ernie.”

  Giving a slightly bemused thanks, Henry passed through the barrier and crossed the last distance to the ship. Once inside, it became obvious that the ship was nowhere near as complete as it appeared from the station. Construction debris and half-finished installations ran the length and breadth of the ship. The gaps in the unfinished bulkheads provided more than enough of a view to determine such a thing, even at merest glance. Henry couldn't help but think that the whole place looked like a death trap for the unwary.

  Following the vague directions of the guard, and the familiar sounds of engineers at work, he soon located what could only be the ship’s drive section. Even half completed and strewn with bare wires and tools, the consoles and controls here were unmistakable, thrumming with power more felt than heard as the engineers ran diagnostics, calling out arcane numbers and commands to each other in a subtle dance decipherable only to their fellows.

  A few questions to various crew led Henry to Ernie.
Walking up to his presumed target, he started the conversation with the obvious question. “Hey, you Ernie?”

  His target, a heavyset man with graying hair and a rough goatee, turned from watching the latest tests and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “That’s me. The real question is, who the hell are you?”

  “Name’s Henry Harper, new hire and all that. The bridge guard told me I should report to you.”

  Recognition sparked in Ernie’s eyes. “Ah, you’re the whiz kid they said tested out damn near perfect on the new drive tech. I don’t have a ton of time to spare myself, so we’ll grab Pete. He’s been here long enough to show you around.”

  Pete turned out to be an older engineer, looking tough as old boot leather, as the saying goes. Still getting around just fine at sixty-eight, and as Ernie said it, bringing five decades of experience to the table. Pete was a personable soul and happily showed Henry around to all the needful things, and a few extras besides. The biggest surprise for Henry was that the crew was actually living aboard ship already. Apparently, the crew quarters had been among the first sections completed. It seems Amaril wanted his people off the station, safely tucked away where reporters and industrial snoops couldn’t get their claws into them. No one was barred from the station exactly, but everyone was encouraged to keep their time off ship to a minimum. Pete left him at his, surprisingly spacious, cabin to settle in, telling him to use his first day to set up his quarters, meet some people, and get familiar with the ship’s layout.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  The next several weeks passed without major incident as Henry settled in at his new job. He was definitely the lowest of low in amongst the engineers and was largely assigned to desperately boring jobs. Even so, the tedium of wiring nonessential systems and other grunt work was made bearable by a great team. The other engineers were almost always willing to take time to show him the higher-end equipment and frequently let him assist with some of the more complex installs during his downtime. In what little free time he didn’t use up in such a way, he’d taken to wandering the ship, often spending a few hours in the science section, talking shop with the crew there.

  A little over a month after Henry first set foot aboard the Exploration, he stumbled across Ernie during his wandering. His boss was hunched over a drafting table with a set of blueprints displayed on an unrolled flex-screen, arguing with a man in a business suit. Curious, Henry stopped nearby to listen in.

  “The line is still running too hot. It's just a few degrees, but it's enough to melt everything in the time frame we're talking about.” The businessman sounded more than a bit irritated.

  “I know! I know, but I'm out of ideas here. We've done everything. Look at this,” Ernie tapped a point on the blueprints and a whole host of notes detailing the tapped section appeared. “There's simply no room to put in any kind of cooling, and we can't lower the output any more than we already have. I just don't see how we can bring the temperature any lower without pulling the auxiliary engine and shifting everything around.”

  “That will take months! We don't have that kind of time to waste on a minor line for a minor system. You know that, damn it.”

  Henry was only half listening as he stared at the blueprints. These were far more complete than what he’d been allowed to see thus far, and the secure looking cylinder at Ernie’s feet that the flex-screen had doubtless come from probably indicated Henry shouldn’t be here. Even so, Henry couldn’t help but stare instead of retreating. The whole engineering section of the ship was laid out in such detail that he finally began to understand why they wanted only the most experienced sort of people for this build. Hell, he had no idea what half of what he was seeing even meant. The line they were talking about was clearly outlined, but what the various annotations surrounding it described escaped him. He’d love to sound intelligent by offering up some solution but...wait, what if it didn’t matter? This whole ship was just a prototype, right? So why not simply cheat a bit….

  “Hey, why can't you just run the line through there, by the coolant conduit? If you wrap it around the conduit and strip the insulation, wouldn't the temperature bleed from the coolant drop the line temperature?” The words were out Henry’s mouth before he could stop them. He cringed a little, hoping they wouldn’t take exception to his presence.

  Ernie and the businessman both stopped talking, looking up at Henry a little slack-jawed. The suited man quickly started looking over the blueprints where Henry had pointed, but Ernie's expression turned to stone.

  “Henry, you can't just expect every ship to—”

  His building head of steam was cut short by the other man. “No, Ernie, he can't expect every ship to use a patchwork fix like that, but he can expect this ship to do it.”

  “But—”

  “Ernie, you told me not a half hour ago that this whole problem could have been fixed by putting the components over in that free space we had by Generator A. We can't do that now, we built up the structure around there to the point we can't get the larger parts in that deep. We'll just earmark that space for any future ships and use the coolant line trick for the tests.” The man looked up at Ernie, as if waiting for him to protest.

  “But—”

  “I know, I know. It's sloppy, but this is a prototype, Ernie. Purely proof of concept. It only has to work once. As long as it breaks the light speed barrier once, just once, and comes back more or less intact, and with everyone alive, of course, we can iron out practicality in either a rebuild or a new ship entirely. I want you to run the line along the coolant conduit. No arguments.” The businessman's voice was firm and it was clear he expected Ernie to obey.

  Ernie shook his head and sighed. “All right, you’re the boss. I'll have it done by tomorrow.”

  “Good. Elana?”

  At this, a rather stunning woman in a sleek suit pulled away from where she had been leaning, somehow unnoticed, against the nearby bulkhead. She slid into place next to the businessman, somehow seeming to belong there as much as his own shadow did. “Sir?”

  The man straightened from where he had been hunched over, poring over the blueprints. Turning to face Henry fully, he asked, “What's your name, kid?”

  “My name is Henry Harper...er, sir?” Henry mentally kicked himself for his hesitation over form of address. Everyone outranked him, possibly even the janitor.

  The man smiled. “Jack will do, kid. I'm only ‘sir’ on the business side of things. Elana, Harper here just saved me several months of delay. If this little scheme of his works, make sure he gets a bonus. Ten thousand should suffice, I think.”

  Elana didn't seem surprised at the figure. She just said, “Yes, sir,” and pulled out a sleek-looking portable to make note of it.

  Henry must have looked rather bemused and not a little shocked once Jack left, because Ernie quickly lost his irritated expression and started chuckling. “You don't even know who that was, do you?” This seemed to amuse him greatly, if his ear-to-ear grin was any indication.

  “Haven't a clue,” Henry admitted.

  If anything, Ernie’s grin widened. It was a disturbing look for the typically serious man. “That was Jack Amaril, the big boss himself.”

  Ernie's grin broke into booming laughter at the shock on Henry’s paling face.

  “So you impressed the big boss and got yourself a bonus that must be, what, half your salary? Got any big plans for it?”

  Now that was an interesting question, Henry thought, as he recovered a little. What was he going to do with ten thousand credits? Well, there was that gorgeous redhead over in science. He remembered hearing her wax poetic about the Earthside Café. Plates there were five hundred credits each, easy. If he could get a reservation there….

  “Oh, you do have an interesting plan for it if that grin means anything. So who’s the lucky lady you’re going to spend it on, eh?”

  “What makes you think I’m gonna spend it on a girl?”

  Ernie just laughed again. “If I wasn’t sure f
rom that stupid grin on your face, the blush you’re sporting now would seal the deal. So, who is it? Sally? No, I’m guessing it’s that young tech over in science I’ve seen you hovering around. What was her name?”

  “Mira.” The name slipped out before Henry could stop it.

  “Ah ha! I thought so! So how are you going to wow her?”

  “Well, she was talking about the Earthside Café a few days ago….”

  Ernie let out a low whistle. “Holy shit, kid. You take her there and you might just get breakfast included in the deal, if you catch my drift.”

  Turning six shades of red, Henry sputtered an unintelligible protest.

  Ernie, still grinning, looked entirely satisfied at having struck him dumb. “Just messing with ya, kid. I’ve gotta get a little revenge for you convincing Jack to use such an inelegant fix on my ship, don’t I? Go on. Go find your future girlfriend, yeah?”

  Gathering what little remained of his dignity, Henry just nodded and made his escape.

  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

  Several weeks after a spectacular first date with Mira, which was in fact followed by breakfast, as well as a number of equally excellent follow up dates, Henry was waist deep in the auxiliary engines, running lines for the ship's internal comm systems, when Ernie came looking for him.

  “Henry, I've got something for you!” Ernie called.

  Jumping in surprise, Henry's head struck a piece of pipe and he cursed. He crawled out of the engine housing, rubbing the growing knot on his head, and winced when he spotted Ernie. Realizing he’d just cursed in front of his boss, he winced a bit more. “Sorry, boss, you surprised me.”

  Ernie simply smirked. “Relax, kid. I've heard a lot worse from far older. Come with me for a minute. Jack has a little something for you to work on.”

  Wondering what on earth Jack Amaril could want the lowest guy on the totem pole to work on, Henry followed Ernie as he led him back to one of the build stations.

  Ernie took a seat at an empty drafting table and gestured Henry into the chair across from him. Once Henry was seated, Ernie started talking. “That coolant line trick of yours worked beautifully. As a matter of fact, it impressed Jack so much that he's sent another little problem your way.”