Henry Gallant Saga 2: Lieutenant Henry Gallant (24 page)

She flushed as she lifted her face to look up at him. Nodding, she offered him her hand.

He promptly took her hand and guided her to the center of the dance floor.

She placed her head against his shoulder while her left hand moved behind his head and caressed his neck. He enjoyed the rare and exquisite pleasure of finding his arms around her. Closing his eyes, he let the world melt away and danced to the slow melodic rhythm.

He remained lost in this sensual delight until a tap on this shoulder disturbed his reverie.

Larson made a slight bow indicating he wished to cut in.

Gallant released Alaina and she quickly moved into Larson’s arms.

Gallant reluctantly watched them dance away and disappear into the crowd. Frustrated, he wandered away from the dance floor and onto the veranda, where he stared into the sky.

His solitude was broken when his friend spied him and attempted to rout him out of his corner.

“What’s going on, Henry? How are you?” asked Mendel.

“Good, Doc, good. Most of the scars have healed.”

“I meant, how are you
doing?”

“Ha. I’m okay, I guess, except I’m overloaded with too many puzzles and not enough time to find solutions. Do you have any remedies for problem overload?”

“I could help with your puzzles, if you included me in your deliberations. As for ‘other’ problems—is Alaina Hepburn one of them? I saw you with her earlier this evening. She’s lovely.”

“Yes, she is. And no, she’s not. I mean, yes she’s lovely, and no, she’s not one of the problems—she’s a different kind of puzzle,” said Gallant, not quite sure what he really meant.

“Wow. With thinking like that, it’s no wonder you’re feeling overloaded. How about sorting it out for me?”

Gallant respected Mendel as a clever person with an honest concern for his friends. “Most of my issues deal with military problems and I have to trust I’ll eventually solve them with the help of our crew.”

“Good answer. Then what’s confusing you personally? Alaina?” asked Mendel.

“I don’t understand her.”

“Is it about
you
understanding
her?
Perhaps
you
need to understand
yourself.”

“I don’t . . .”

“What is it you want?”

Gallant made a vague gesture.

Marcus gave him a wry smirk. “Not so long ago, Neumann stole Kelsey away from you. Now, Liam Larson is doing the same thing with Alaina.”

Gallant’s expression contorted into exasperation.

“You need to make up your mind, my friend,” said Marcus. “And then, you need to act.”

Revolutions are born in the hearts of the disillusioned and disenfranchised, but they are fomented through the discourse of public opinion. For years the people of Elysium gathered peacefully in Freedom Park to express their ideas and opinions.

Recently people expressed their desire to reconnect to their families on Earth by joining the Pro-United Planets organization, which advocated an alliance with the United Planets. In a matter of weeks, their crowds grew from a few dozen supporters to several hundred.

While PUP demonstrations were peaceful, a new separatist group called the Indies, extoling Elysium’s independence and supporting President Wolfe, attracted a smaller, but more unruly crowd. Strident divisions within the community began to emerge, causing protestors to be met with counter-protestors.

Provoked by the treaty signing ceremony, the fighting in eastern Hallo gathered a self-perpetuating momentum of its own. Signs and placards proliferated on the streets and buildings throughout Hallo, contributing to heightened tensions. Worse, instances of threats and intimidation were becoming widespread. Activists were subjected to violent clashes from stone throwing to fist fights.

As leader of PUP, Alaina advocated patience and forbearance, hoping to negotiate a solution. The Indies leaders made a show of agreeing to end the violence, but then started even more disruptive and toxic marches.

A proliferation of paramilitary Indies groups did not improve communication. Separatists chanting pro-Elysium slogans were joined by a substantial number of radicals riding in trucks. Indies fired guns into the air, increasing the belief they included armed SSP members as volunteers. Reports circulated that the clandestine leader of the Indies was Junior.

One morning, a rally of about fifty PUP supporters marched from Freedom Park to the town hall chanting slogans and making speeches.

Dressed in civilian attire, Gallant listened to the speeches from the periphery, trying to gauge the temperament of the population. Alaina was warmly applauded as she spoke about new elections and a new constitution.

In what was becoming a troubling pattern, radical Indies supporters appeared and started agitating.

The peaceful demonstration grew into a full scale clash between unarmed PUP protesters and those armed with stones, fireworks, Molotov cocktails, and an occasional firearm.

The handful of bureaucrats inside of the town hall ignored the mayhem.

The police were similarly idle until numerous fights broke out and dozens were injured. Then, the security police—garbed in full riot gear and batons—backed with water cannons and stun grenades, intervened. The SSP rounded-up the PUP people and carted them off to jail while the Indies people were ordered to disperse.

Disgusted with the arrests Gallant remained close to the unfolding events and was also arrested.

They were herded into cramped cells and left there for hours without any formal processing. Alaina was initially arrested, but quickly released by Junior’s orders.

Nearly everyone in the cells was exhausted by the day’s events and they remained, for the most part, quiet.

The Safety and Security Police had a philosophy of efficient services in support of the Hallo prison’s population. The goal of the Hallo criminal justice system was intended to contribute to the safety of the citizen of Hallo by providing a safe, secure, and humane environment for inmates thus keeping them from menacing the law bidding citizens. The prison facility included technological innovations such as a robotic monitoring system and a rooftop solar power system converter for electricity. The jail was capable of holding about eighty inmates within four modern housing units and was rarely filled.

It was currently filled to capacity with the members of the PUP organization.

Feeling guilty, Gallant let his mind wonder while he reevaluated his agreement with Wolfe and the planet’s government. He tried to weigh the importance of the mining and manufacturing work against the volatile situation developing within the population of Hallo.

After an hour, Gallant found a seat on a bench next to Liam Larson. He could learn much about PUP, the people of Elysium, and most of all, Alaina—if Larson was so inclined to tell him. The problem was how to ask. He didn’t know enough about Larson to assess his demeanor. He couldn’t quite read him.

Gallant asked, “Can we talk?”

Larson nodded. “Of course.”

“Will you tell me about PUP? What are the organization’s intensions?”

“PUP was originally formed around intellectuals and dissidents, mostly young friends of Alaina, who founded the group,” said Larson, looking at Gallant, as if he too, was trying to read the man.

“We didn’t have a clear ideology at the start and we contained different political viewpoints with diverging ideological outlooks. But once Wolfe started arming the police and cracking down on dissent, we began agitating to establish a new political coalition to run in the next government elections—if Wolfe doesn’t postpone, or cancel them altogether.”

Gallant nodded his grasp of the situation.

Larson said, “The Indies supporters have condemned our protests as being instigated by foreign-backed agitators—meaning you—and they have offered to assist the SSP in suppressing PUP.”

“I see. What about your involvement?”

“I guess, I got involved through Alaina, but now I fully embrace PUP’s goals.”

“My sympathies are with PUP, but the
Intrepid
is constrained by our treaty with Wolfe. We can’t openly break with him. He could raise the planetary force field, preventing us from completing our repairs and leaving us vulnerable to the Titans.”

Larson looked at Gallant, trying to size him up. “I understand. Most of PUP understands.”

“Will you tell me a little about yourself?”

“Like Alaina, and Junior, I was born on Elysium twenty-one years ago. We grew up together—to a large extent.”

“Do you have family here?” asked Gallant.

Several other people in the cell moved nearby and began asking about how long they would be keep locked up.

Larson ignored the distraction and said, “My mother and three sisters kissed me goodbye this morning. I think they knew it would be a long day.”

“Your father?”

“He died when I was six. Ever since, Mother and my older sisters referred to me as the man of the family. Let me tell you what that’s like—it’s like having four mothers.” Larson smiled. “I got to know Aliana through them. They were her friends first.”

There was a vague silence for several minutes until Larson began talking about Alaina. “We’ve been close for several years.”

Gallant thought of the statuettes.

“She believes in PUP and what we’re trying to do, but she has a mind of her own, as I’m sure you’ve discovered. She has unbridled courage and is eager for adventure, but she is unwilling to be restrained. She hasn’t taken kindly to young Cyrus Wolfe’s attempts to control her.”

They spent an uncomfortable afternoon and evening in the cell before the guards finally brought food and water.

In the meantime, Alaina hadn’t remained idle under the circumstances. She unleased her full fury at the SSP and gathered everyone she knew to protest outside the prison, by marching and shouting. She gave news reporters interviews and broadcasted her revulsion of President Wolfe’s tactics to silence the opposition to his policies.

The SSP guards remained inside and didn’t pay attention to the protesters or Alaina’s complaints. The rest of Hallo, however, did pay attention and she managed to put enough pressure on the Elysium Council to force Wolfe to release Gallant, Larson, and the other members of PUP.

Gallant was glad to see Alaina’s success and pleased Wolfe still had limitations.

Aliana beamed with pride, as she hugged Larson at the prison gates.

“Congratulations,” said Gallant.

His arms still around her, Larson said,“Alaina is a force to be reckoned with.”

“So I see,” said Gallant, feeling extremely awkward standing next to Alaina and Larson. “It wasn’t pleasant being Junior’s guest.”

“Junior?” asked Larson.

“He means Cy,” said Alaina.

“Oh. Sure. Junior enjoyed seeing me behind bars and away from Alaina, but from what I saw of him, he seemed out of sorts,” said Larson.

“Out of sorts?” asked Gallant.

“Yeah. He had a bandage over his nose and considerable bruising on his left cheek and eye. He looked like he had been in a fight and came out second best.”

“Imagine that,” said Gallant innocently.

Men of the
Intrepid
crew sat side by side with local citizens eating breakfast on a long wooden table carved from forest timber every morning, workload permitting. The habitual menu—fried eggs or scrambled, bacon, steak, corn bread smeared with jelly or butter, and strong, hot, thick, tar-like coffee—never changed. During the meal, there was good-natured banter and animated disputes over the previous evening’s recreational ballgame—a competition Gallant had fostered.

Gallant found the camaraderie born from such a mundane ritual deeply satisfying. Afterwards, he explored the construction site and evaluated the progress. Workers often brought him problems which popped up due to the demanding conditions and he helped find solutions. He inventoried the stacks of supplies and parts being kept in storage units and distributed as needed. A rigorous maintenance schedule helped keep machine breakdowns to a minimum. He set up the AI control system to make assignments and matched up personnel with equipment.

All of the facilities were meeting their scheduled requirements until a few weeks after the state dinner when another cyber-attack disrupted the fabrication facility. This time there was more than physical damage to equipment and computers—three men were killed.

Gallant found multiple attempts to breach security systems through the use of proxies, temporary anonymous accounts, and wireless connections. Despite the intrusion detection system created to provide an audit trail of log-ins, the latest attacker remained concealed because he deleted log-ins to cover his tracks.

Like a virtual cat-and–mouse game, Gallant worked to analyze the traces left by the hacker. He examined the user account access controls and cryptography used to protect systems files and data. He was able to discern that the firewalls and cryptographic protections were penetrated, or bypassed, with ease.

Using his neural interface, Gallant connected deep into the system’s inner workings. Once again, he sensed a powerful presence imprinted on the network. He probed the computer entry ports into the AI control systems and performed data checks on all databases looking for corrupt inputs. All incoming traffic was sifted through to hunt down the errant infiltrator. Despite his clever simulations to retrace events, the cyber-assault had succeeded in camouflaging its operation. His concluded this could only have been perpetrated by a sophisticated cybernetics programmer.

Gallant entered the make-shift medical aid station established near the mines and interrupted Mendel as he was suturing a wound on a civilian worker. The station was not much more than a large tent with relatively primitive medical equipment. Doctor Mendel and a med-tech worked diligently to help the injured men.

“Doc, can I talk to you?” asked Gallant.

“One minute.”

Mendel finished stitching his patient before turning him over to the med-tech.

As they walked outside the aid station, Gallant asked, “How bad?”