She gave his shoulder a squeeze and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Oh shit,” he thought. “She ain’t making it easy for me to keep my mind centered on facing off against the Saurans.”

  He stepped forward and in a loud voice, he said, “Listen up, people. I don’t mean to rain on your parade. This idea is one of many we will need, in order to make it to the next level and the level after that.

  “Right now, we need something that will help us with the most immediate problem, which is, how do we prevent the damaged ship from sending an alert out of system. If they get it off, we’re going to have an armada of warships coming for us and we won’t stand a chance.”

  A tall man, with a hooknose asked, “Is there anyway we can find out how the alert transmission works. If we did, then maybe we could fashion some sort of jamming device.”

  Bambi gave them the bad news. “I am not programmed with the details of how it works. It’s very reliable, because it never breaks down.”

  Bet asked, “Bambi, apparently you can send an alert. From what part of the ship does it emanate? Also, would it be possible for you to generate a weak signal that couldn’t leave the solar system, so we can try to find out how this transmission works? There must be some kind of radio wave, or something we can track.”

  “No ma’am, there isn’t. I do know it works similar to the interstellar drive and has something to do with folding space. That’s all I know about it.”

  The tall man said, “Yes, of course. That makes sense. If they generated a transmission, as we do, it would travel at light speed, but no faster. It would have to be much faster than that, in order to be of any real use for them.”

  Bambi added, “If I sent an alert message right now to our former location, it would take approximately five weeks to arrive. A ship responding to my signal would take seven to eight months to get here. A signal has practically no mass to it; whereas a ship has billions of tons to be shielded and folded. I’ve heard the Saurans talk about how important it is to do it slowly, so they can monitor the progress and keep the mass of the ship aligned within the fold and properly aimed at the destination.”

  Mike wasn’t into the finite details of this and was becoming impatient. He told her, “Bambi, can you do a test signal, without actually sending it, or not.”

  “Sort of, sir. There is an internal check program, which I can utilize to be certain that a signal can be sent properly, although it doesn’t actually transmit. But, I don’t see how that could help.”

  The scientists were excited and frustrated at the same time. A short chocolate skinned man said, “If it involves folding space, we are way over our heads here. All we have is some speculative theories about how it might be done. One thing for sure, it would take an enormous amount of power. But then, this ship must be capable of generating that much energy, otherwise it never could have traveled here. Obviously, Bambi can fold space.”

  The tall man asked Bambi, “Young lady, can you give us any idea at all how you generate the energy needed for interstellar transportation.”

  Bambi explained, “All I know is that when we produced the fold, it took a great deal of power, more than I have available. We had to travel far away from solar systems, in order to have ‘Clean Space’ the Saurans called it. That was where gravity was smoother than in the tidal gravity pools that develop closer in to solar systems.

  “Also, I was tasked with monitoring and collecting the alternative energy, as we travelled out to our transfer point. That’s how I built up additional power for the move.”

  Bet asked, “What do you mean by alternative energy?”

  Oddly, Bambi hummed, as she thought before she answered. Finally she responded, “I’ve looked at a lot of the scientific work being done on the Earth and I think this involves what you might call dark matter.”

  The room exploded, as the brainiacs went wild with questions.

  Mike shouted, “Calm down everyone. I don’t know much about this stuff, but I do know that dark matter is very big, if we can figure it out.”

  Bambi commed him. Sir, once we get them through the upgrade procedure, I can answer their questions as fast as they can ask them and in far greater detail. We really have to get them going. Two more days should have them all strong enough to make the painful jump.

  Bambi told them, “All of you must realize that the Saurans didn’t share information easily. They only gave it out, as it was needed and a lowly transport ship computer didn’t need to know how all of that works. I’m sorry.”

  Bet told her, “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve been a huge help. I do have one more question. If an alert signal is like folding space and that needs to be done far away from a solar system, how do you generate that signal from this close in to the sun and these planets?”

  “I don’t know, Bet. I just do it. There is a file in my program, in which I place the message and send it. I’ve never known how it works. I do have to aim it at a specific point, but I never knew where that point was, unless the Saurans were about to send a signal. Then they would enter the celestial location in my database and I would transmit to that point.”

  Bet had her chin in her hand, as she looked at one very short woman in the back. She said, “Charu, what do make of that?”

  The little woman replied, “Who, me,” she said, pointing to herself. “Well…I suppose Bambi sends out a comm transmission to a distant satellite, which in turn creates the fold and sends off the message from way out in space. It’s probably physically contained in some sort of small message holder.”

  The tiny lady began walking toward Bet, as she spoke. “We need to know how the comm system works. If we can understand it, then I would think we might be able to jam it somehow, before it reaches the satellite.”

  “Wonderful,” shouted Bet and a few others.

  Mike softly asked Bet, “May I ask who that little lady is?”

  “Oh, she’s Dr. Charu Nara. She’s a theoretical physicist from India, although she was educated in America. She’s very quiet and one of the brightest minds here.”

  Without realizing it, Bet had moved in close to him and began stroking the back of his arm, as she pressed her breast against the front of it. Clearly, she’s flirting with me, he thought? He had to admit that he liked it. It had been a long time since a woman had come on to him.

  The tall man smiled nicely, as he chided the short scientist, “Charu, you’re not going to drag out Tesla’s wave theory, are you? The man had a few wonderful ideas about resonance, but in many ways, he was a crackpot.”

  She grinned at him, waved a finger back and forth, as she said, “Now Horace, I’m not saying that Tesla was specifically accurate about gravity waves. But it might be possible that some of his theories are in use here. If we can determine the appropriate gravatic frequencies that it uses, we can use variable harmonics to blank out a transmission.”

  “NO!” Bambi shouted.

  Mike immediately asked her, “What’s wrong, Bambi.”

  “I’m not sure. I just know that it’s wrong to block a transmission with the use of harmonic frequencies.”

  Bet, in a kinder, gentler tone asked, “How do you know that?”

  “I’m not sure. But when Dr. Nara suggested interfering with transmissions, I had a sudden jolt of warning. I didn’t seek it out. It just hit me.”

  Bet looked at Mike and then at the other scientists. “I believe the Saurans have buried more programming in your system than you realize. Can you find the source of the warning?”

  Bambi, a little calmer now, answered, “I’m doing a quick check of files and sub-files regarding interstellar messages. But, I’m not finding anything that indicates a warning.”

  Everyone stood silently, as Bambi continued to search for a file source.

  “Wait a second. I found a file here, in the interstellar message file area, which refers to the interstellar drive engine. That’s an odd place for it to be. When I go into that file, it contains a warning of extreme danger, if outside sources generate sufficient harmonic waves, at the time of transmission.”

  Horace said, “I’d like to see that file, if I may.”

  “Sir, it’s more than six hundred thousand lines of code. Once you are upgraded, you will be able to see it and analyze it relatively quickly. If I print it out for you now, you could begin to look at it, but it will take you months to absorb it.”

  Mary spoke up. “Bambi, send the file to me and give me a crack at it. I can run through it and perhaps pick out the areas where we can share it with the others, until they have there own upgrades to use on it. At least it would be a start.”

  “OK Mary. It’s on the way.”

  Everyone stared at Mary, as she closed her eyes to concentrate on the file.

  Finally she blurted out, “Oh my, this really is a huge file. Even at my new speed, this is going to take a while.”

  General, Those Naval officers you wanted to see are waiting in the staff conference room. I sent them coffee, soft drinks and pastries.

  Thanks, Bambi. Tell them I’m on my way.

  Mike held up his hand and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, you have work to do and so do I. I leave you in the capable hands of Bet and Mary.”

  Bet rubbed his arm again and told him, “Would I be too forward, if I asked you out for dinner?”

  Mike was pleasantly shocked. “I think I’d like that, Bet. I’ll have Bambi cook up something special for us in my quarters, if that’s alright with you.”

  “That would be perfect.”

  Mary commed him and her comment came as another shock. Mike, that woman isn’t the old goat she was nine days ago. She’s going to wear you out tonight. Just don’t get carried away and kill her by accident. We need her.

  He didn’t how to respond to his daughter-in-law’s rather crude comment, so he remained silent.

  “Max, let’s go talk with our Navy guys.”

  Max clapped his hands and said, “I suppose we have to, but how much good they’ll be to us is a mystery to me.”

  “Oh have a little faith Max. One of them was damn near dead when we snatched him. He’s actually a veteran of World War Two and he earned The Navy Cross at the battle of Okinawa. I just hope that at least one of them knows what he’s doing in a multi ship battle. If there is one, we can build from his experience.”

  As they walked, Mike told Bambi to give them a rundown on each man, with regard to their duty at sea.

  Captain Patrick Gorham, spent twenty six years on active duty, of which two postings were at sea. One of those was as the junior officer in fox division, whatever that is.

  Max interrupted to say, “That’s Naval gunnery and he was probably an Ensign at the time.”

  That is correct, sir. His other sea duty was a few years later, where he served on an aircraft carrier, as the administration officer. After that, he spent most of his time at the Pentagon.

  Max again, “Only two postings at sea. That’s a little odd. A Naval officer fights to get sea duty on his record. This guy was a pencil pusher. But he must have had some political pull to make it to Captain, without taking on any more duty at sea. The man definitely had connections.”

  The next officer is Commander Lawrence Doolin. He spent two years on board an aircraft carrier as a fighter pilot. Three years later, he was back on a different aircraft carrier, serving as a squadron leader. Four years after that, he was at it again, as the Air Officer.

  Max told them, “That’s a nice resume. I wonder why he didn’t get any further?” He hummed for a moment, and then asked, “Bambi, where did he go to college?”

  He attended Marquette University and was a member of NROTC. When he graduated, he went straight onto active duty as an Ensign.

  Max shook his head. “No wonder he didn’t go any further. The Navy’s even worse than the Army about senior officers graduating from a big name school. And while Marquette is considered a fine institution now, I doubt that the powers that be looked at it seriously, back in this guy’s day.”

  Mike asked, “Who’s next?”

  Commander Edward Denniston. First sea duty was as the junior CIC officer, on a cruiser. Six year later, he was the senior CIC officer, on an aircraft carrier. Five years after that, he was the Operations Officer on an aircraft carrier and was eventually transferred to an admiral’s staff as the intelligence officer.

  Max told him, “CIC is Combat Information Center. That runs along with intelligence and, as the Ops Officer, he would have had his hands on a lot of Intel. I like the guy already.”

  “OK Max, let’s reserve our assessment of these men, until we have spent some time with them. Next one, Bambi.”

  Commander Frank Vollmar. Most of his file was sealed, labeled as classified. He spent time on a number of submarines, but only for brief periods.

  Mike said, “I bet he was a Seal.”

  Max nodded. “Yeah, sounds like it. I used those guys on a few ops. They’re just as good as Green Berets, and they definitely have some unique training and qualifications. A guy like that could be very useful, in the type of op we’re looking at.”

  Bambi verified, Yes sir. I opened his classified file and he has indeed been on some very dangerous missions, in places where Americans weren’t supposed to be.

  “OK, Bambi, let’s move on.”

  Lieutenant Commander James Smith. Sir, this is most unusual. I can find no record of him at all. It seems he doesn’t exist. There is no record of him in the Navy and his Social Security Number matches a man who died fifteen years ago.

  Mike had no idea what was going on here.

  “Max, I’m stymied. Do you have any clue as to what this guy was doing in a veterans home?”

  “Yes I do. The bastard was getting free medical care, using a dead veteran’s name.”

  Mike disagreed. “That couldn’t be right. Bambi said the guy doesn’t exist. The VA wouldn’t have accepted him, when he presented a dead man’s social security number.”

  They were approaching the conference room, as Mike reached out and grabbed Max’s arm. “Hold on a minute. I want to talk with Smith in private, just you, him and me. Bambi, have a robot escort Mr. Smith to my quarters.”

  Yes sir.

  Five minutes later, they walked into Mike’s quarters, as Max scowled and Mike held out his hand. “Mr. Smith, how are you doing.”

  The man was of average height and non-descript in appearance. He shook Mike’s hand and said, “I’m tired and still a little confused. Even that video wasn’t much help. I don’t understand what’s going on or why I’m here.”

  Max became belligerent. “Look shithead, we know you’re a phony. So, how about spitting out your real name and what you were doing in a retirement home for veterans.”

  The man didn’t seem concerned at all. “Gentlemen, I can assure you that I have no idea what the problem is. I really am a veteran of the Navy and I really was a Lieutenant Commander. You must know that the VA screws up records all the time. I’m sure if you keep checking, you’ll find me somewhere.”

  Mike thought, this guy should be a little shook up, but he wasn’t. He was just kidnapped, given a healthier body and told he was in outer space. But, he acts as though it’s all just a minor misunderstanding.

  Bambi, I’m going to need your help with this man. Can you tell if he’s lying to us?

  I think so. I assume that he would divulge a falsehood, by his breathing, his pulse, his eye movement and slight facial alterations. If you allow me to physically insert a mind probe, I could tell a lot more about him.

  He told her, I’ll keep that in mind.

  Mike sat across from the man and gazed into his eyes, as he asked, “So, you’re telling me that you are James Smith?”

  The man emphatically replied, “Yes I am.”

  He’s lying, boss.

  “Have you ever been in the Navy?”

  “Yes.”

  True.

  Were you ever a Lieutenant Commander?

  “Yes, I was.”

  He’s lying again.

  Max asked, “Are you an American?”

  “Of course I am. I was born in Stamford Connecticut.”

  True on the first part, but lying about Connecticut.

  Max pressed hard. “Have you ever spied for a foreign power against the United States?”

  “No sir.”

  Well, that’s true.

  Mike followed up quickly, “Have you ever spied for the United States?”

  “Look gentlemen, I am what I say I am. It’s that simple.”

  Max shot back, “Answer the damn question. Are you a spy for our side?”

  “I am not a spy of any sort.”

  Lying again.

  Mike stood up and said, “Mr. Smith, you’ve told us a few truths and lot more lies. I’m not going to fuck around with you, pal. You either answer truthfully, or I’m going to have a robot stick a mind probe into your skull. We won’t have to bother with all of these questions then. We can extract everything you ever thought of, right from your brain.”

  “Gentlemen, I am James Smith.”

  “OK Bambi, bring in the probe.”

  He expected the guy to cave in, at that point, but he didn’t. Bambi sent in a wheeled robot, with a thin three inch long needle protruding from its metal arm.

  Smith started to get up. As he did, the robot’s other arm shot out and hit his leg, injecting him with a sedative. A few moments later, the man slumped back in the chair. Then the robot carefully inserted the long needle into the back of his skull.

  Mike wasn’t squeamish, but the sight of that needle entering the man’s head was difficult to bear.

  Bambi commed Max and Mike. I’m going to have to look around in here, in order to see where everything is hidden. When I did upgrades on you and your staff, I found that humans keep their memories in different places. So, I’m going to have to jump around. If you see something interesting, say so, and I’ll focus on that area.

  As they watched, it was a little like a video game that was blurred.

  “Bambi, why is everything so out of focus?”

 

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