Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) Read Online Free
Author: Rob Buckman
captains will be reading themselves in within the next few hours, and they can start their shakedown runs,” Brock interjected.
Scott made a few notes on his wristcomp, his mind working out the details of how to utilize that many ships. The first sea lord gently nudged the man on each side of him, nodding at Scott. They looked at him, then at Scott, nodding in agreement that they’d made the right choice, since Scott was already working on the problem of deploying his fleet.
“What about fighter and bomber cover? You mentioned carriers?” Scott asked, absently.
“Each of the carriers has the capacity for five hundred space fighters and bombers, as yet you only have three hundred, due to some manufacturing defect,” Pete answered.
“Run that by me again?” Scott said, looking up. Something in the way Pete said it told him something was wrong.
“We didn’t have the capacity here, or in space to build the fighters, so we asked the President of the World Council if he could recommend a manufacturer to do it for us. He found one man who builds anti-grav vehicles and persuaded him to build them to our design. The first one hundred arrived on time, and seemed to be working perfectly, but the first time they went into space and started pulling combat maneuvers they broke up. We were lucky not to lose any pilots.”
“So what happened?”
“On inspection, we found many hidden defects, and if it hadn’t been for the fact we needed to train in space and not just in air, we would never have found them until the first time we went into combat.”
“So it was a deliberate defect that only occurred in space?” Scott shot Pete a look.
“Right. We checked back with the factory but couldn’t locate where the defect originated. The design team here checked with the engineer in the factory, tracing it down to an error in several of the robotics manufacturing computers.”
“Random error?”
“Hell no!” Pete snapped, not bothering to hide his contempt for the present world government. “This was a deliberate attempt at sabotage. But there are no fingerprints to lead back to who.”
“Well, we know the Ayatollah and his merry men directed it, so where are we right now?”
“Rebuilding all the new fighters from scratch, with our people double-checking the computer programming every step of the way.”
“I should bloody well hope so, but it pisses me off. We could be using those men here, instead of playing nursemaid to a bunch of robots,” was Brock’s contribution.
“You see any way around it?” Scott shot back.
Pete nodded. “It’s in the works now. We transferred all airframe manufacturing to England and Ireland with the relevant equipment, and the ones coming from there are even better.” Pete smiled as he said it.
Kat looked up from her second plate of steak and eggs with fries on the side. “Thank Christ for that. I’d hate my people to go into combat with a craft they don’t trust.”
“Are any of the craft already onboard suspect?” Scott asked.
“No, sir. That was one of the first items we checked on. They’re all clean,” Pete answered. “And, again, I think deliberate. They wanted us to think everything was hunky-dory.”
“Good, but more fool them.”
“These people have no concept of sabotage, as we understand it. At the moment it’s just small, random crap that’s more annoying and time-wasting than anything. Like substandard material, missing or out-of-spec parts,” added Brock.
Kat chuckled. “You’ve got that right, Colonel Brock. Military contractors trying to slip in substandard material is as old as the Roman Empire.”
“It’s like a bunch of kids trying to pull the wool over their parent’s eyes. They forget we’ve already been there and done that,” she added.
“Too right!” Brock snapped. “Can’t believe the junk the military’s palmed off on me and
Scott made a few notes on his wristcomp, his mind working out the details of how to utilize that many ships. The first sea lord gently nudged the man on each side of him, nodding at Scott. They looked at him, then at Scott, nodding in agreement that they’d made the right choice, since Scott was already working on the problem of deploying his fleet.
“What about fighter and bomber cover? You mentioned carriers?” Scott asked, absently.
“Each of the carriers has the capacity for five hundred space fighters and bombers, as yet you only have three hundred, due to some manufacturing defect,” Pete answered.
“Run that by me again?” Scott said, looking up. Something in the way Pete said it told him something was wrong.
“We didn’t have the capacity here, or in space to build the fighters, so we asked the President of the World Council if he could recommend a manufacturer to do it for us. He found one man who builds anti-grav vehicles and persuaded him to build them to our design. The first one hundred arrived on time, and seemed to be working perfectly, but the first time they went into space and started pulling combat maneuvers they broke up. We were lucky not to lose any pilots.”
“So what happened?”
“On inspection, we found many hidden defects, and if it hadn’t been for the fact we needed to train in space and not just in air, we would never have found them until the first time we went into combat.”
“So it was a deliberate defect that only occurred in space?” Scott shot Pete a look.
“Right. We checked back with the factory but couldn’t locate where the defect originated. The design team here checked with the engineer in the factory, tracing it down to an error in several of the robotics manufacturing computers.”
“Random error?”
“Hell no!” Pete snapped, not bothering to hide his contempt for the present world government. “This was a deliberate attempt at sabotage. But there are no fingerprints to lead back to who.”
“Well, we know the Ayatollah and his merry men directed it, so where are we right now?”
“Rebuilding all the new fighters from scratch, with our people double-checking the computer programming every step of the way.”
“I should bloody well hope so, but it pisses me off. We could be using those men here, instead of playing nursemaid to a bunch of robots,” was Brock’s contribution.
“You see any way around it?” Scott shot back.
Pete nodded. “It’s in the works now. We transferred all airframe manufacturing to England and Ireland with the relevant equipment, and the ones coming from there are even better.” Pete smiled as he said it.
Kat looked up from her second plate of steak and eggs with fries on the side. “Thank Christ for that. I’d hate my people to go into combat with a craft they don’t trust.”
“Are any of the craft already onboard suspect?” Scott asked.
“No, sir. That was one of the first items we checked on. They’re all clean,” Pete answered. “And, again, I think deliberate. They wanted us to think everything was hunky-dory.”
“Good, but more fool them.”
“These people have no concept of sabotage, as we understand it. At the moment it’s just small, random crap that’s more annoying and time-wasting than anything. Like substandard material, missing or out-of-spec parts,” added Brock.
Kat chuckled. “You’ve got that right, Colonel Brock. Military contractors trying to slip in substandard material is as old as the Roman Empire.”
“It’s like a bunch of kids trying to pull the wool over their parent’s eyes. They forget we’ve already been there and done that,” she added.
“Too right!” Brock snapped. “Can’t believe the junk the military’s palmed off on me and
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