Exiled to Earth - Until Duty Calls Me Home

By Edward D. Olsen

In hiding on planet earth. He becomes one of us, lives as one of us, until the day he is called home to rescue the conquered galactic empire he left behind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781387629084

Book preview

978-1-387-62908-4

Forward

We've all fantasized we are from somewhere else.  Daydreamed we were someone of great importance, but now required to anonymously bide our time here in this inconsequential existence for some unknown reason.  For Amos Singer and his three cohorts it is literally true.  They are from another place.  Somewhere far away across the galaxies.  They were placed here, a safe haven, a sanctuary, out of site, out of mind and out of reach.  They have no memory of that place and certainly no thoughts of why they are unique and why they are here.  The only reminders are dreams and nightmares of another place and another time.  But like everyone else, these are dismissed as daydreams and nightmares caused by imagination and nothing more.  Up to now they haven't a clue who they really are.  It was intended to be that way.  But that is to change very soon.  They came here as infants the way we all did.  They experienced childhood and all the other things regular people do.  In mid life now they have become one of us, never entertaining a thought otherwise.  And certainly never thinking that a time would come for them to be called back home.  But the time is close now when their memories will be reawakened.  They will again understand who they are and why they must leave this life behind.  From across the galaxies they are coming for them.  The time has come to go home.

Chapter One,  Change is on the horizon

Good morning Sir, said the topside watch as he rendered a proper military salute for the captain, just before he stepped off the brow onto the deck of the ship.

Good morning petty officer Ellis, came the reply along with a return salute from the commanding officer.

It was early morning as the captain boarded his submarine.  Only the top half of the morning sun was yet visible above the horizon.  The lower half, a reflected image on the calm, smooth surface of the harbor water, a mirage below the horizon.  It was one of those mornings when the sea within the harbor seemed almost like a single sheet of shimmering glass.  Some mornings were like that.  The water was a mirror who’s facade was betrayed only by the occasional broach of a bubble or a fish venturing too close to the surface.  During the long and boring predawn topside watch, which was about to come to an end for Ellis, he had witnessed a small sea turtle and a large ray come to the surface for a quick look at our world, the world above the water’s surface.  It only took a second for both of them to have seen enough then quickly disappear as they had come from beneath the surface of the dark, smooth water of the inner harbor.

As the captain walked the topside deck, or as it was routinely referred to, the turtle back, he carried a briefcase.  He was heading toward the only structure on the deck, the sail.  The iconic structure that created the unmistakable silhouette of a submarine.  Up on top of the sail is where the captain would be, commanding the ship when it was surfaced.  The periscopes were housed in the sail.  The bow planes, the ship’s aquatic wings, projecting out on both sides, ready to fly through the water once submerged beneath the waves.  This was also where the main topside access hatch was located.  Just before the captain got to the hatch, Ellis picked up the microphone at his watch station and announced on the ship’s main announcing circuit, the 1 MC, Barracuda Arriving,  telling everyone the captain was aboard.

The message was heard throughout the interior of the ship.  Most ignored it.  Just another routine event on the ship at the beginning of another routine day.  The duty officer didn’t ignore it though.  He was up and moving on his way to greet the captain even before Ellis was through making the announcement.  He was there in the control room waiting for him as the captain descended the ladder, holding the briefcase in one hand while negotiating the ladder with the other.  When he saw the duty officer reaching up to grab the briefcase from him, he let it go then continued descending, using both hands now down the long vertical ladder.  It was rather precarious entering the ship that way, carrying something, but that was the way it was…….getting on or off a submarine.  Even a rather large one like Barracuda.

Ensign White was his name and his workday had started an hour or so earlier.  He had already been through the ship, checking on cleanliness, the status of work being done while in port and the general condition of all things about the ship and the crew.  He had spent the last twenty minutes or so reading through all of the message and comm traffic that had come in during the night.  It was his job to bring the captain up to date in the morning about anything that had to do with the ship or with the ship’s business.

To a ship the captain is very much like its soul.  To the captain the ship is more than a piece of machinery, no matter how magnificent a piece of machinery it might be.  It is still more than that.  It’s a living, breathing organism made up of machine and crew.  In some ways it was like an extension of himself.  In port when the captain goes home at night the ship sleeps.  It is resting but waiting for the captain to return when it is awakened for another day.

His feet now firmly planted on the deck of the control room, the captain took his briefcase back from the duty officer then made his way to his cabin.  The smell of breakfast was in the air as Ensign White tagged along just behind him, chattering away about the ship’s business, bringing the captain up to speed in the passageway as they approached the cabin marked Commanding Officer.  The briefing continued as the captain opened the door, set his briefcase down on the bunk, then prepared to take a seat at his desk where he could read through a stack of papers placed there during the night.  He didn’t look at them yet.  He was still giving Ensign White his undivided attention until the update was finished.  Ensign White had done a very good job minding the ship overnight and updating the captain this morning.  Until he was finished the captain remained standing giving him the respect he deserved.  When he was finished the captain said, Good job Tim.  Thank you.  You are relieved.

Ensign White then exchanged salutes with the captain and announced,  I stand relieved, Sir, then went about his business, which at the moment meant off to breakfast.  The ship was now fully awake and ready for what the day might bring.

The captain sat down in his high back chair, tossed his hat on the bunk by his briefcase then swiveled back to face his desk and began to wade through the papers stacked there during the night.  He was just about to open the first folder when the messenger of the watch knocked at the open cabin door.

Captain, a messenger from the squadron just delivered this to the topside watch with instructions to be sure you got it right away.

The messenger handed him a letter size manila envelope, then went on his way.

The captain thought this was a bit odd to hand deliver a piece of mail like that as he opened it.  There was a meeting scheduled with the commodore at noon today.  It seemed even more odd now.  Why hand deliver that?  There were other routine ways that would have worked just as well.

Submarine Squadron Thirty Six, or in Nav Speak, SUBRON THREE SIX, was located in Pearl Harbor and commanded by Commodore Nathan Jones.  A new type of submarine was coming into service and the first one of them had been assigned to his squadron.  The Barracuda class submarine was designed and built with a totally new type propulsion technology.  The commodore envied the younger captains and crew of these new ships.  There was nothing like this when he was younger, taking his turn commanding a submarine.  But that’s how it always is as time goes on.  Things improve and things get better.  People take their turn, they get older….it’s someone else’s turn now.

This new class of submarine outwardly looked quite ordinary as submarines go.  But that is where the similarities ended.  The latest advances in metallurgy had been applied to the pressure hull and other important structural parts of the ship.  This critical boundary between the life inside the ship and certain death outside was forged from a new kind of metal.  A thin piece of it, say about a quarter inch thick could not be drilled through without ruining several high quality drill bits that were designed just for that purpose, drilling holes in hard metal.  On the other hand that same piece of quarter inch steel could be put into a vice and pounded over if you worked at it long enough, to a bend of nearly ninety degrees without a crack in it anywhere.  A demonstration of amazing metal properties.  It meant this stuff was really strong.  Much stronger than anything ever used before.  That would mean much deeper dives were now possible and much less damage was expected from depth charges.

The performance of this new boat was of course vastly improved.  The power plant had about six times the capacity of the best of its predecessors.  The increased power was required to drive the new propulsion technology.  Instead of a propeller it was more like a jet drive.  Twelve nozzles extended out through the turtle back and around the aft perimeter of the ship.  Twelve intakes were near the bow.  Each unit was independent.  Twelve long tubes running the length of the ship.  As with any submarine, what was under the turtle back as well as the propeller itself was not visible from topside.  So it looked pretty much like any other submarine until you got close enough to see the top set of two thrusters visible just above the waterline on either side.  The tubes were made of a revolutionary ion drive.  There were no mechanical parts inside.  Seawater entered the front, became ionized, then driven out the stern by a strong electric field.  It was powerful, very powerful, but power hungry as well.  The tremendous heat generated at max power was carried away by the water.  There had been a concern the heat signature could be a drawback.  But at lower speeds the heat signature was negligible so by slowing down, the ship would become invisible to virtually any heat seeking device.  And since the ship was also essentially silent it would be practically impossible to detect passively.  But even if the ship was detected via active sonar pinging, if you had to run, you could really run.  With a running start even high speed torpedoes couldn’t catch one of these.  They were a whole new class of bad.  Five of these were planned to be built.  Only one had yet been finished and commissioned, the Barracuda.

Captain Amos Singer was selected to command her because of his exceptional record.  He had already established a reputation as an exceptional leader.  It was common knowledge, but mostly unspoken that he was also exceptionally intelligent.  The crew on his ship always had the highest morale and the best job performance records.  He was one of those guys you would call an unnaturally smart….. natural born leader.

There is a chasm of difference between being a boss and being a leader.  A leader instills confidence in all of those he leads because they all know he knows what to do.  He always knows what to do.  Every member of the crew knew without a doubt if there was a tight spot in battle, Captain Singer would get the job done and get them home when no one else could.

That’s why he was chosen to command the first of these new boats.  They knew he would attract the best crew and learn the most about the capabilities and drawbacks of this new ship.  He didn’t disappoint.  Based on his assessments from operational exercises, the next four were hurried into production.  Soon they too would be ready for duty.

At 11:20 hours, Captain Singer stuck his head in the executive officer’s stateroom and said, Hey Jim, I have to go over to the squadron for a bit.  You wanna’ have that racquetball game when I get back?  I’m not sure how long this will be but I’ll let you know if it drags on too long.

Sure thing Skipper.  But I might have to let you win this time.  I’m beginning to feel a little guilty ya know.

Don’t you worry about that.  I’ll whup you’re ass this time, you’ll see, he replied as he squared up his hat and went on his way.

The XO, as he was commonly called, got back to his desk then shortly heard the announcement, Barracuda Departing, which of course meant the captain was off the ship.

The walk down the pier was not a very long one but after doing it so many times it seemed to grow a few inches longer with every passage.  A random flutter of thoughts went through his mind like we all have when not thinking of anything in particular.  He walked past four other submarines tied up at the same pier and didn’t take any notice of them.  The last one had a wisp of steam coming from a shore steam connection.  He noticed the steam and thought they must be doing some kind of testing.  Glancing at the hull number he thought to himself, Oh that’s eight-oh-eight, The Hawkbill….just out of the ship yard.  Must have put her over here just this morning.

It reminded him of the day his ship was commissioned.  The long majestic ride down the track, the graceful slide into the water with the crew on deck in dress whites.  The things that were said of him that day when he took command of Barracuda, seemed like a dream about someone else now.

I guess it’s hard to find something interesting to talk about during a ship’s commissioning ceremony, he thought to himself as he fumbled for his car keys.

As he unlocked the car door he remembered a couple of things his wife wanted him to pick up at the commissary store on his way home.

I sure hope I remember that tonight when I do go home, he thought to himself as he started the car and drove off to keep his appointment at the squadron.

The inside of Submarine Squadron Thirty Six Headquarters was rather cheerful.  It was hardly what you would expect especially from outside appearances.  When Commodore Jones took command a few years ago he ordered all the hospital green walls painted over in soft pastels and decorator colors, at least as far as a reasonable budget would stretch.  A lot of civilians worked in the building too.  So it just made good sense to the commodore that a more pleasant work environment would make for better workers.

When Captain Singer arrived at the doorway to the commodore’s office, stepping inside he paused for a moment in front of the full length mirror placed there to take a quick look at one’s self, to be sure you were properly squared away.  The receptionist inside the office spotted him and pleasantly called out, Go right in, Sir.  The commodore is expecting you.

He quickly glanced at his watch and replied, Thank you Ma ‘am.

It was his custom to arrive at all appointments at least ten minutes early…..and he was still actually about ten minutes early.

Hearing the exchange at the receptionist’s desk, the commodore called out from inside his office, Come on in Amos.

When he had just passed through the doorway the commodore added,  Close the door and have a seat, won’t you please.

He was expecting the come on in, greeting.  But the close the door, instruction and walking in ten minutes early made him a little apprehensive.  Something was going on that was more than routine business.

As soon as Captain Singer was properly seated with his hat in his hand the commodore spoke up, "Amos, I know you’re a busy man with that new super sub and all so I’ll get right to the point so you can get out of here and get back to work.

Captain Singer smiled an embarrassed sort of smile, then said, Yes Sir, what’s on your mind?

The commodore got up from his soft high backed leather chair behind the massive mahogany desk.  As he walked over to the large map on the wall he said, We’ve got a problem out here Amos.

Then stepping closer to the map he pointed to a spot near the Mariana Islands and said, Right about here.

He was pointing to an area near where the trench runs.

Problem, Sir? What kind of a problem? asked the captain as he too walked over to the chart, tossing his hat on the chair he had just vacated.

Well we’re not exactly sure Amos.  At first I thought there may be nothing wrong except perhaps someone’s imagination.  But it’s happened too many times now.  So the admiral wants us to go check it out.

Amos waited for the rest of the story, still looking at the map where the commodore’s finger had been pointing.

The commodore continued, Four of our attack boats in the past couple of months, operating out there at different times, each picked up a surface contact while they were cruising around at a depth of about a hundred feet or so.  Each time this happened the signature looked like a trawler or a small ship, something like that.  So each time, when they closed in, popped up to take a look through the periscope, there was nothing there.

He continued while walking back to his desk, If it happened only the one time,…… could be the sonar crew might need some extra training, something like that.  But this has happened a half dozen times on four different boats now.

As he eased back into his big high back chair while Amos was still standing over at the map he added,And it has been exactly the same scenario……..every time.

He didn’t say anything else until Amos had returned to his seat just opposite the big desk.

The whole thing is kind of strange.  They think they are tracking this contact…...solid contact…..until the periscope broaches…...then it’s gone.  Nothing to see out the scope….and at the same time the sonar contact disappears.

UFO’s huh, said Amos with a chuckle.

The commodore smiled and said, Yeah, I suppose so.  Who knows.  But whatever…..we need to take it seriously and go see what we can find.  That’s where you come in Amos.  I believe you are scheduled to be out in that area on your next patrol.

Amos nodded affirmatively.

Well keep your eyes open.  Keep a good sonar watch on.  Cruise around a little bit more than normal when you get near that spot.  Let’s see if you can turn something up so we can figure this out.  I will need a report on this when you get back, even if you turn up nothing at all.

Amos knew the business he was called over there for was now