Time Commander (The First Admiral Series) (17 page)

However, Ganthus City also had one very noticeable irregularity when viewed from above: there was no regular checkerboard of buildings arranged in blocks, and no obvious street arrangements to give Ganthus City any regular structure.  There were, however, some broad avenues that Billy Caudwell could see from the air. In the centre of Ganthus City stood the huge, imposing edifice of the pale green, rectangular Imperial Palace. The actual building was placed neatly in the centre of a well-defined circular area. The Imperial Palace appeared to have been built surrounded by extensive grounds. To a trained military eye, such as one possessed by Teg Skarral Portan, it made sense for defensive purposes to have a broad, clear field of fire around any building you wished to hold against any besieger. Any cover that a defender afforded to an enemy could be utilised to bring that enemy closer to the defensive position, and increase their chances of overwhelming the defences.

Radiating out from the circular grounds of the great brooding palace like a five-spoke wheel ran five broad avenues; each one attached to what appeared to be a large area of undeveloped parkland. Even the areas of parkland had no regular shape or structure to them. However, the pale brown and yellow parks did have the effect of breaking up the monotony of the great, vast swathe of blue and white buildings. Within the sea of blue and white were large dark brown patches which were large, squat, heavily fortified buildings. These were the Ganthoran Imperial Guards’ military installations. Billy Caudwell knew that some of them would be Imperial Guard barracks; with great mazes and warrens of tunnels and underground galleries for troops and munitions. All of them, he was well aware, housed heavy anti-aircraft batteries that could reach up into the orbit of Ganthus and try to knock down large space vessels.

From the reports of Senior Intelligence Officer Sownus, there were over two hundred such batteries defending Ganthus City. And, although these batteries weren’t powerful enough to trouble a Star Cruiser, or any other Alliance heavy warship, they could wreak havoc amongst the Eagle fighters and unprotected Landing Ships.

Should it come to a fight with the Ganthorans, these batteries would have to be suppressed by heavy bombardment before any ground operations could take place. As the Diplomatic Transport descended towards the beautiful blue and white city below, it was ordered to begin circling. The pilots were well aware that any deviation from Ground Control instructions could jeopardise the safety of their passengers. The Landing Point itself was the roof of one of the Imperial Guard Barracks. Aircraft within the vicinity of the Imperial Palace itself were liable to be shot down by the automated air-defence systems. However, with the right security clearance granted to the Alliance transport, it was the safest Landing Point in Ganthus City.

Once again, Billy Caudwell suspected that the Ganthorans would be turning every available scanner and sensor onto the Alliance Transport to glean any scrap of information or intelligence that they could. With nothing to hide, the Alliance pilots de-activated the Force Shielding that had protected them on the descent through the upper atmosphere. Sitting in silence, as dictated by Diplomatic Protocol; to evade prying audio detections equipment, the Alliance personnel gathered around the circular porthole-like windows to view the City that sprawled out before them. Having circled the City twice, and having gleaned all they were likely to be able to detect, the Ganthorans gave final approach instructions to the pilots.

So, banking to the left from their circling position, the Diplomatic Transport descended slowly and gracefully towards the roof of the largest brown building in the area. Sitting comfortably in the swivelling seat in the centre of the travel compartment, First Admiral William Caudwell took a deep breath and prepared himself for the formalities that were likely to follow.

It was going to be one of those formal official welcomes that Billy despised with a passion; everyone being so artificially nice, with fabricated sincerity, whilst at the same time waiting for the dagger to slide into your back.
Soldiering was so much simpler than politics
, Billy considered as the Diplomatic transport made its final approach. With amazing skill, the pilot brought the Transport down on the rooftop; landing the rear of the vessel a split-second before the nose. With scarcely a bump, the Diplomatic Transport landed smoothly on the roof of the Imperial Guards’ barracks. Looking out of the circular window next to his seat, Billy Caudwell could see the Reception Committee had already formed. There were robes of all sizes and colours, and more than a few military uniforms on display. It appeared that the great and good of the Ganthoran Government had turned out for this little show. Ambassador Nicx was first to rise from her seat, and stepped up to the side of the vessel next to the Reception Committee. As Ambassador, protocol demanded that she be first to set foot on alien soil and greet her new hosts. Taking his cue, Billy also got up from his seat and stood at Nicx’s right shoulder. Standing behind Billy, the five Diplomatic Aides took their positions, whilst the Landing Troopers stood to the flanks of the main party.

Unlike a great many transport vessels where a small hatch opened in the side of the craft, the Universal Alliance Diplomatic Transport Vessel allowed the entire side of the vessel to open.

The three spherical compartments at the side of the vessel split horizontally as one, and in one slow steady movement, opened up to allow everyone aboard to disembark. The top half of the horizontally split spheres moved upwards into the shell of the Transport, whilst the lower half moved downwards. When fully opened, five stairs deployed from the central sphere, whilst the two flanking spheres deployed shallow ramps.

As the side of the Transport opened, Billy was immediately struck by the hot, dry heat of Ganthus, which was stiflingly uncomfortable. With a quick mental command, the thousands of microscopic machines woven into the fibres of his Personal Environment Suit immediately formed a weak, but effective Force Shield around his body and started generating an entirely more suitable and comfortable environment for the wearer. And, as the side of the Transport deployed, the part of his mind that was Teg Portan quickly assessed the situation. To his left, stood two neat rows of ten silver-grey uniforms with royal blue facings and gold helmets. In their hands, short spindly weapons with two barrels either side of a hand grip. This was the Imperial Guard of Honour, all spick and span and ready for inspection. To the right, stood a gaggle of robed figures; who were most likely Senior Government officials and Civil Servants. Whilst in the centre, five robed figures and two more in uniform seemed to be the important dignitaries for the event.

With the side of the Transport fully opened, Ambassador Nicx stepped carefully down onto the first step of the stairs. She placed her left hand onto the centre of her chest and bowed deeply, as did the robed figures gathered. Billy, as senior military officer, snapped to attention and brought his left hand up in the Alliance salute.

Having bowed and saluted to the new hosts, Ambassador Nicx stepped down from the Transport and approached the Welcoming Committee. Billy followed closely and watched as the Guard of Honour stood stock still, with the exception of the Officer who turned his head to follow their progress. However, it was only as he cleared the shadow of the Transport that Billy noticed the huge cylindrical structures that had emerged from the side of the buildings. As the Transport had landed, the Ganthorans had deployed the heavy anti-aircraft weapons. As part of the traditional game of diplomatic cat and mouse, the Ganthorans were attempting to impress and intimidate. That was just the predictable, one-upmanship nature of politics.

“Grand Adjudicator Bellor,” Ambassador Nicx opened the conversation politely with the five robed figures in front of her.

“
Ambassador Nicx, welcome to Ganthus City,” the oldest of the Ganthorans said.

One of the great wonders of the Administrative Centre back on Garmauria was something called ULTra; the Universal Language Translator. ULTra was a thinking computer that stored and processed the language and syntax of every species the Garmaurians had ever come into contact with. Many of the species of the universe, having been genetically manipulated by the Garmaurians, spoke little more than local variants of the Garmaurian language.

“Thank you, Grand Adjudicator. May I present First Admiral Caudwell,” Nicx indicated to Billy.

“
Welcome, First Admiral.” Bellor bowed with surprising grace.

“
Thank you, Grand Adjudicator.” Billy gave Bellor an equally deep bow.

“
May I present my wife, the Lady Gildran,” Bellor indicated the woman in the long purple robe, who bowed gracefully. “Second Adjudicator Tiba and his wife, the Lady Margal,” the shorter and more rotund individual in yellow and black with the woman in pale pink; who also bowed, “and Third Adjudicator Arrad,” the youngest and tallest of the party in the light-blue robes.

“
If you would care to accompany us, we have prepared some light refreshments inside after your long journey from the frontier,” Bellor said.

“
Thank you Grand Adjudicator,” Nicx responded and allowed herself to be led from the flight deck.

So far, so good
, Sarkor Nicx thought to herself.

“
New York!” Elizabeth Caudwell said softly to herself, pushing the heavy luggage trolley from the carousel towards the main concourse.

Smiling ironically to herself, she had begun to regret bringing so much with her on the trip. It was only to be for four days, but there was so much to be seen in “The Big Apple”, and she had no idea of what the weather would be like, leaving her to pack for every eventuality.
A girl had to be ready for any circumstance when in a foreign country
, Elizabeth considered.

Now, Elizabeth Caudwell was beginning to regret those “eventualities” as she struggled with the five suitcases on the trolley with the wonky wheel that kept pulling her to the left. It was one of those uphill battles that Elizabeth Caudwell knew that she could never win, as the trolley simply had a mind of its own. However, if she could just get to the main door and find a cab, then she would consider surrendering. She was also beginning to regret the fashion statement she had chosen to make for her triumphant entry into the United States. The unfashionably high heels skidded and slipped over the polished stone and plastic flooring of the airport terminal, whilst her tight fitting suit jacket and skirt felt like a straight-jacket, hemming and closing her in to the point where she felt she would be unable to breathe. The jacket had already been unbuttoned, and still she felt sticky and cloying with the perspiration generated by the hard work of shoving the uncooperative trolley on a hot and humid New York summer’s day. Now, she understood why everyone that was anyone got out of New York in the summer, like in that Marilyn Monroe film, the name of which she couldn’t remember.

Not that she was going to make a grand entrance into New York City looking like Marilyn Monroe. Not now. Seating and straining against the rebellious airport trolley, she felt the sweat running down her back; her new silk blouse clinging to her back and shoulders. She could already feel her beautifully styled hair; after a very lengthy and expensive visit to an exclusive London salon, plastering down against her brow and neck. Her eyes were stinging from the salt in her sweat, and she could feel her make-up and heavily applied mascara starting to run. Her feet and legs were aching because of the high heels, and she was petrified to look in a mirror for fear of the dreadful sight that would confront her.

Passing from the dark, dank and humid tunnel of the Arrival gate, she entered the bright, dazzling and busy main concourse. For a brief moment, the fresher air of the concourse gave her a feeling of blessed relief, but only for the tiniest of moments. Her fellow travellers had long since swarmed past her without as much as a second glance.

“Welcome to New York, Elizabeth.” She found a bench to perch herself on just beyond the Arrival Gate.

With a deep sigh, she managed to peel one of the offending high heels from her feet and began to massage the sole. The relief from the pain and constriction of her shoes was just starting to seep slowly into her brain when she thought she heard a voice pierce through her blissful delight.

“No, it couldn’t be...” she reached down to remove her other shoe.

“
I said, welcome to New York City, Missus Caudwell. I’m Peter Lindstrom of Millinghouse Publications.”.

Elizabeth Caudwell looked upwards, and for a few moments, was taken aback by the vision that presented itself to her. Her first thought was that a younger version of her husband had been sent by some guardian angel to rescue her, and the thought made her quite breathless and dizzy.

He was a tall man, mid-thirties; just over six feet tall with flawless, unblemished fair skin, and the fashionably close-cropped blond hair of a college student. His eyes were a piercing blue grey, not unlike John Caudwell’s, but his smile of perfectly aligned white teeth was warm, genuine and inviting. She did manage to notice in those moments of astonishment that he had the broad-shouldered physique and slim waist of an athlete, which was complimented by his dark navy gold-buttoned blazer, crisp white shirt, and club-striped tie. His pale grey slacks; accentuated by the gold belt buckle at his waist, was completed by the highly-polished black leather shoes.