Midshipman Henry Gallant in Space Read online

CHAPTER 8

  ROOMMATE

  Gallant sat on the edge of his bunk looking at his touch screen tablet, trying to coax himself into studying his latest boring GridScape training assignment. The illustration of a complex system casualty was proving difficult for him to evaluate. His attention was diverted by a booming baritone voice entering his cubicle, “Heads up.”

  Midshipman George Gregory burst into the tiny room, his arms full of uniforms and personal items. He unceremoniously dropped his burden onto the upper bunk bed. He said, “Henry, how about giving me a hand?”

  Gallant was so surprised he just sat motionless, looking back and forth between the nearly empty common room and his bear-sized intruder.

  Finally, Gregory said, "The XO has assigned you as my wingman in Flight 4. So how about a helping hand?"

  “You’re going to room with me?” asked Gallant, still slow to realize the import of the event.

  “That’s the best way to develop teamwork. And from now on, we're a team, unless I’m not welcome?” asked Gregory, looking at Gallant, waiting for a response.

  Gallant smiled. He hoped, he had a new friend, “You’re welcome Gregory. But uhh..., wouldn't you be more comfortable on the bottom bunk?”

  “Now you’re thinking Henry. That would be great. And call me Red,” said Red extending his hand.

  At the academy, midshipmen roommates shared a treasured bond of trust. Roommates always had each other’s back... no matter what! Gallant’s roommates at the academy, Ed Stevenson and Sam Wellman, had become his best friends. By volunteering to become his roommate, Red was taking on a special responsibility along with the mantle of trust that went with it.

  Gallant shook Red’s hand enthusiastically, “I’d be proud to, Red.” He began helping Red stow his gear. The uniforms were quickly hung in his locker, or neatly folded in drawers. The shoes were placed along the locker floor. Red hung an image viewer full of pictures on the inside of the locker door. The image changed automatically every few seconds. Gallant could see they were mostly family photos along with a string of good-looking girls.

  “Thanks for the help, Henry,” said Red when they were done.

  “Uh ..., sure, glad to...”

  “How about a game of chess?” asked Red.

  “That would be great,” said Gallant. This was the first invitation any of the midshipmen had extended to him. He put his study tablet aside vowing to make up the time after his next watch.

  They went into the nearly empty common room and began setting up the virtual four-dimensional space-time chess set. The few midshipmen in the room glanced at them and then went about their business.

  Behind his back, Red hid a white piece in one hand and a black piece in the other. He brought his hands forward for Gallant to select. Gallant picked the left hand and Red opened it to reveal a white pawn.

  Gallant began with a Queen’s Pawn Gambit. Red wisely declined the gambit. As they played, the center of the multidimensional board became occupied with several high ranking pieces. The pieces created a heavier ‘effective-mass’ in the center. This stretched the virtual fabric of the board. The effect was that the movement of these pieces became limited. Instead of ranging the entire length of a diagonal path, the bishops, for example, were only able to move a few squares along the diagonal.

  Gallant concentrated, trying to make a good impression, but it was clear, early on, that Red was a Master. Nevertheless, Gallant made one surprise move that caught Red off guard and for several minutes, he looked really worried. When he finally found a countermove, he laughed and slapped Gallant on the back.

  “You almost got me there, buddy. Good job.”

  After that, Red’s moves dominated the board.

  “Red, were those family images in your locker?”

  “Yes,” he said, as he opened the locker door and pointed, “See, these are my parents, my brother, and my sister at our home in Alberta, old-Canada. Dad runs the family lumber mill with Mom’s oversight. The business has been in the family for four generations and he has a dozen uncles, brothers, and cousins on the payroll. My brother, Richard, runs a construction company that builds houses with Dad’s lumber. My sister, Peggy, is a veterinarian. She’s married with three children of her own.”

  Red shifted in his chair and continued, “Dad always wanted me to join him, but when I told him about my hope to get into the academy, he was very supportive. He even helped with getting recommendation letters for my nomination. I did very well on my competition exams. All that plus grades and football were enough for a ticket to Mars. We had a great party before I left. I miss them like crazy,” Red heaved a sigh. “What about your family?”

  “I was lucky to get into the academy based mainly on my academic record and exam results. I didn’t play athletics in school. I had to work in data storage for UP Interplanetary Communications to help support my grandmother and me.”

  “That’s tough.”

  “Who are all those girls?”

  “Admirers,” said Red, with a grin.

  “All from your hometown?”

  “They're from as far away as Earth, and as near as Jupiter Station," he laughed. "It’s something that defies explanation.”

  Gallant smiled at the redheaded giant and returned to concentrating on the chess match.

  It didn’t do much good however, because in three moves, Red forced him into a mating position.

  “I yield,” he said, surrendering his king.

  “Not bad, but would you mind some advice?” asked Red.

  “No, I’d appreciate any pointers,” said Gallant.

  “You demonstrated good instincts and a keen mind. Your play was aggressive, but not reckless. However, your strategic viewpoint is weak,” summarized Red.

  “Strategic viewpoint? What do you mean?”

  “Think of it, this way. Both white and black start the game with exactly the same pieces, in exactly the same position across a symmetric field. The only difference is that white move first. It is the initial advantage of the first move that gives white an edge. Black must counter each white move effectively to diminish that advantage while simultaneously looking for an opportunity to create his own advantage.”

  “Sure,” said Gallant.

  “You shouldn’t think of the opening moves as an immediate thrust to victory.”

  “Oh?”

  “The opening moves are all about creating a new configuration on the board that is no longer symmetric and equal - one where you have gained a leveraged dominating position. Your opening is merely a stepping stone to set up the tension that could eventually lead to a decisive mate. It’s a matter of patience and timing.”

  “Thanks, Red. I’ll try to do better next game,” said Gallant.

  “Great, that was fun. Now, I need something physical. I’m heading for the gym. What about you? Want to come?”

  “That sounds good to me,” Gallant said enthusiastically.

  They quickly changed their clothes and went to the ship’s gym. Red immediately began on the weight machine while Gallant started jogging on one of the many treadmills.

  As he began working up a sweat, Gallant looked around the large compartment.

  To his chagrin, he noticed Kelsey and Neumann off to one side, walking on neighboring treadmills, chatting away amiably. Every time Kelsey’s laugh erupted, Gallant felt a pang, though the couple remained oblivious of him.

  “I think, I’m going to call it quits early. I’ve got to get cleaned up for my next watch,” he said to Red.

  “Okay, Henry. I’ll see you next cycle.”