Waking in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 2)

by D Patrick Wagner

  Nye-Nippon Coast line

  The Nye-Nippon undersea ship, Minke steamed thirty meters under the surface and two kilometers off shore. The multitude of swimming denizens scattered at the giant predator’s approach, flashing away from perceived harm. The seabed dwellers scurried for rocks and holes, hiding from the giant shadow as it passed.

  Sousui Taketa Oishi sat in the command jump seat and watched as his Nightshades prepared for deployment. Each stood in their chameleon suits, donning hoods, gloves and booties. By the numbers, they called out, switched on his or her suit, counted to five and switched it off. Forty-nine times each Nightshade seemed to disappear and five seconds later reappear.

  “Gear Up.”

  Forty-nine throats shouted “Hai, Sousui,” and forty-nine men and women began donning the specially-made coveralls. Water proof and water tight, the raiment completely enclosed the Nightshades from the tops of their heads to the soles of their feet. Zippering and sealing the waterproof front, the Nightshades finished dressing and began loading their survival gear, weapons, flippers and spear guns. As each finished, each stood at attention, awaiting inspection and orders.

  Sousui Oishi rose and carefully walked down the double row of stealth warriors. Reaching the moon pool, he turned and faced his squad, his buntai.

  Clattering reverberated through the hull as a sea door opened and forty drones escaped, floating to the surface, becoming operational and taking flight. Taketa knew that ten operators sat in the newly-created control dome at Suichuu-Shigai, each controlling and monitoring his or her four drones of responsibility. A light flicked to green.

  “First team, exit!”

  The two closest, one right, one left, snap-turned, faced the pool, pulled and mounted their rebreather masks. One quick stride brought the two to the pool. One more dropped them into the tepid, salty water.

  “Seat!”

  Forty-seven Nightshades, moving as one, shifted one seat closer to the moon pool and sat, still hooded, still gloved, still booted, still clasping their spear guns.

  Over the next four hours, Twenty-three times, the submarine released forty drones, ten more operators took control and the deployment ritual repeated. Finally only Sousui Oishi and his subordinate, his mappai, Juro Ariyama, remained. The last forty drones launched. Taketa stood, repeated the same preparations that the other forty-nine had gone through and waited. The light turned green. He donned his rebreather. Turning to the pool, he took two steps and dropped. Ariyama exactly mirrored his motions and he stepped into the moon pool at exactly the same moment.

  Both remained in their drop positions, legs pressed together and straight, arms pressed against their chests, clasping the spear guns. They remained this way as they sank deeper, establishing distance from the stealth submarine. Turbulence from the retreating ship buffeted the two and they stoically waited until it subsided.

  By the time the turbulent waters settled and the undersea life returned to normalcy, Oishi and Ariyama had sunk another ten meters, reaching the depth limit where a case of the bends would become a very real possibility. With a kick of his oversized flippers, Taketa stopped his descent. Juro copied the maneuver. Slightly lifting the rebreather, Taketa allowed bubbles to escape, measuring their rate of rising. Insuring that he rose more slowly than his released bubbles, he began kicking towards the surface. His Mappai followed, kick for kick.

  At one meter below the surface, Taketa arrested his ascent and hand-signaled Juro to halt. Then, carefully, to avoid any splashing, the Nightshade commander slowly broke the surface and performed a slow three-sixty. No threats, no enemy appeared. Sinking again, Taketa hand-gestured a direction, displayed two fingers and kicked towards shore.

  Two hours later, the two Nightshades lay in the surf, black rocks in white mud. Shore-lapping waves and shifting sand constantly kept trying to pull the two back into the ocean or bury them in the surf. The moonless night kept everything wrapped in darkness, only the stars shining dim light on the uninhabited beach.

  Touching his temple to activate the night lenses which had been surgically implanted in his eyes, Taketa stared into the darkness of the moonless night. Scanning carefully, he found no enemy within range. Carefully plotting the path of egress, he hand-signaled Juro and speedily crab-walked to a hidden position beside a reed-covered sand dune. Dropping down with his back to the mound of sand, he watched Juro quickly follow and take up a matching position.

  As practiced a thousand times, the two teammates dropped their packs, pulled small, silenced automatic weapons and scanned their perspective quadrants. Again, no enemy. Taketa again signaled. Juro packed his rebreather, stripped out of his coveralls, packing those, strapped down his spear gun and again brought his weapon to bear. Taketa repeated the process.

  Once movement preparations were completed, Taketa pulled a personal data pad and powering it up. Tapping a pre-programmed icon, the called application connected to the forty drones within range. Forty windows flashed onto his screen.

  Taketa took time to expand each video feed, study its data as the drone flew to its assigned destination. Once he felt satisfied with his and Juro’s safety, he plotted their next trek and shut down all feeds except one. Grabbing control of the remaining drone, Taketa signaled to move out. Controlling the drone, he used it to keep overwatch on his and Juro’s projected egress path.

  Both of them pulled special obscuration shoes from their packs. These shoes, being twice as wide and half-again as long as their feet, had irregular shapes and brushy soles. After strapping them to their feet and buckling their packs to their backs, they gave each other one more equipment check.

  The same mesh used for Taketa’s and Juro’s chameleon suits coated the entire surface of the small, silenced automatic weapons, the electronics and power supplies residing in the stubby stocks. The back packs were covered by, and contained the same electronics. Switching on their suits, backs and weapons, the two, along with their gear and weapons, seemed to disappear.

  Walking in a foot-swishing manner, the two infiltrators ghosted inland, hiding their tracks with the back-and-forth, forward movement of their special, obscuration shoes.

  Darkness swallowed the two Nightshades, concealing the movements of two of the deadliest humans on all of Nye-Nippon.

  Chapter 8

  Aboard Griffin

  Sitting in their usual spots, sipping morning beverages and eating their morning meals, Mack and Sue could see the signs. As Krag and Keiko, closely filling each other’s space, strolled into the galley, the two engineers saw the results of Krag and Keiko having spent an enjoyable, invigorating and sleepless night together.

  Keiko caught their looks. “Children.”

  Krag missed them. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’ll get us some coffee.”

  “I’ll whip up breakfast. Preference?”

  “I’m famished.”

  “Again?” Krag interrupted.

  “Don’t you start. I’ve got enough problems with those two.”

  The two in question covered their mouths to hide the snickers.

  Buster continued standing off to one side, watching absorbing, processing and learning.

  “Eggs, scrambled. Teriyaki chicken breast. Steamed broccoli. Toast.”

  “You are hungry. Three extra pounds coming right up.”

  The festive mood continued. Everyone joked and laughed as they ate, pleased that the last few days were finally over.

  “Ya done good, Lassie. You certainly got all those cat’s ears flicking. I thought ol’ Varrini was about to wet himself on that jump drive.”

  Both Krag and Keiko heard the derogatory reference to their hosts. They exchange looks and both decided to let it slide, this time.

  “You didn’t do so bad yourself, Wrenchy. That casing, with its booby trap locked them up tightly. They know they can’t even breathe on it without it turning into a pile of sludge.”

  “Ya, we’re a team, alright.”

  “Keiko, do you think we will ge
t home?”

  “That’s the next step, Sue. I will do everything I can to insure that you get to see your son again.”

  “We’ve still got the problem of giving the cats our jump drive.”

  “No more ‘cats’, Mack.” Krag stepped in. “You keep saying that here and you’ll say it there. We don’t need them to feel that we look down on them.”

  “Sorry, Cap. But they are cats. Big ones. Like snow panthers or something.”

  “True. But, no more cat references.”

  “Got it, Boss. Loud and clear.” Mack started to mope.

  “Despite your Penchant for the overstatement, you and Sue did a hell of a job.” Krag watched as the festive mood returned to his two engineers. “Which brings us to the next step. Keiko? What have you got planned?”

  “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “How so?”

  “We’re going to need to give up Griffin.”

  “What?” Mack exclaimed. “Give up Griffin?”

  Sue chewed on her lip.

  Krag thought and asked, “Does it get us home?”

  “Think about it. We need Griffin to get home. They want the jump drive. So, some of them come with us. We get home, give them our ship and they fly back.”

  “It’s a plan. If we can get the gravity generators and technology, with Gregor’s help, we’ll be rolling in credits. We can always buy another ship.”

  “But it’s Griffin, Cap!”

  “I know. But it’s a trade-off. We get home. We lose the ship. We keep the gravity tech. It’s almost a total win.”

  “But.”

  “May I say something?”

  “Of course, Buster. You are one of us, now.”

  “Thank you, Keiko. First, let me ask, Will I be staying with you when the Elonians return to their home with our ship?”

  “Of course. You are never going anywhere, except with us, if that is what you want.”

  Then what I was going to say is that I may be Buster but I am also Griffin. Since I live in my avatar now, wherever I go, the knowledge of every nut, bolt, rivet, wire, everything goes with me. With my data base and being allowed to direct its construction, I can perfectly replicate Griffin, down to that dent in the engine room where Mack pounded that heavy spanner out of frustration.”

  “Aw, Buster. Ya didn’t need ta go and tell that.”

  “I was just making a point, Mack. We can have another Griffin.”

  Everyone saw the wheels turning in Mack’s head.

  “Maybe it won’t be so bad. There are some major upgrades I wanted to do. And besides, with the gravity generators, the whole layout is going to change, anyway.”

  “That’s the spirit, Wrenchy.”

  “But it won’t be Griffin, Lassie.”

  “Krag?”

  “Yes, Buster?”

  “I just received a request for a meeting from Vidhee.”

  “Same as before?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Buster learned from Keiko on when to be familiar and when to be formal.

  “When?”

  “Whenever you are ready.”

  “Ok. Give us thirty minutes to clean up and prepare. Will that be ok?”

  Buster froze and un-froze. “Thirty minutes will be fine.”

  “Who will be attending?”

  Again Buster communicated with Vidhee. “Princess Analyn, Captain Kakkarna, Lieutenant Varrini and Vidhee.”

  “We’ll all be ready.” Krag looked over the table and got nods from everyone. “Thirty minutes.”

  Everyone bussed their plates and utensils, each one keeping within their mind, steeped in the knowledge that today’s conversation and tomorrow’s actions determined their fates, both immediate and long term. The time passed. Four humans found their spots. One synthetic Human/Elonian remained at his position of oversight.

  “Captain, Vidhee is in communication.”

  “We’re ready. Let her through.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Captain Marston?” Krag experienced the telepathic communique through his cranial net. The other three picked up the signal in their translation gear through Buster’s relay.

  “Welcome, Vidhee. Also in attendance are Mack, Mrs. Benton and Ambassador Suzume. You already knew Buster is also here.”

  Mack and Sue glanced at each other with perplexing looks as they watched their captain sitting, not moving and staring at nothing. Keiko, previously having experienced this unorthodox style of communication, simply waited. All heard Krag’s response through their translation gear.

  “Welcome, all. Also joining this call is Princess Analyn, Doctor Roshnak and Commander Tarunga. I will now pass the meeting over to My Princess.”

  “Greetings, Ambassador Suzume, Captain Marston, Mack and Mrs. Benton. We wish to discuss tomorrow’s events and desired accomplishments.

  Keiko immediately picked up that this was to be a formal conference, so she immediately switched to her ambassador personae.

  “We are here to follow your lead, Your Highness. Where would you like to start?”

  Again, Keiko spoke, Buster received and sent her voiced statement, via his own telepathic capabilities, to the Elonian group.

  “We thought that we would get the hard part out of the way first. We start with negotiations. Follow that with the Royal Guardsmen tournament and complete the day with a banquet in the bay that houses your Griffin.”

  “That sounds grand and glorious, Your Highness. But isn’t the mood of the day entirely based on our ability to come to an arrangement concerning the jump drive?”

  “Yes, it does, Ambassador Suzume. But, having spent many sedeca with you and your people, I firmly believe we will reach an accord. In fact, we have to. My father, King Kaporine and brother, Prince Daruke will be in attendance. You wouldn’t want to make me look bad, would you?”

  Both laughingly and worriedly, Keiko answered, “Of course not, Your Highness. But, the King? Should we be worried?”

  “Maybe a little. He is pretty intimidating when he wants to be.””

  “Is that all. You should meet my father, if you want ‘intimidating’.”

  “It sounds like we are litter mates.”

  “Full regalia, I take it?”

  “In the presence of the King? Of course.”

  ‘”And Mack, best manners.”

  “Aw, why’d you have to go and say that, Syn-Gal? I know how to behave.”

  “Everyone laughed.”

  “And no talking about dirt.”

  “Now you’ve done it. Buster, a little help here.”

  “No, Mack this is solely on you. I’m just the translator.”

  Sue just chewed on her lip, trying not to laugh.

  “Well. The negotiations. Formal wear, best manners, get results. That should cover that. Ambassador Suzume, what types of solutions do you foresee?”

  “The light-bending suit is easy. We simply give it to you, along with the technical specifications. The jump drive? We need it to get home. You want it. So, the solution is that you send a pilot and engineer with us, we get home and your people return with Griffin.”

  “I think that those are parameters we can work with. Convincing Father and defining the details will be the hard part.”

  “Yes. Fathers. I understand what we will be going through tomorrow. Anything else about the negotiations?”

  “No. I think we have that covered. Vidhee? Doctor? Comments?”

  “I think I should go. Also Doctor Ganakin. We are, after all, meeting a new people.”

  “I’ll add that to the list. Anyone else?”

  When no one else responded, Princess Analyn changed the subject.

  “Commander, Tarunga. Would you please lead the discussion on the Royal Guardsmen tournament?”

  “Of course, My Princess. We have two levels of fighting. Eight masters and seven novices. There is an eighth on standby if Captain Marston does not wish to compete. Three rounds of each determine the champion for each group.”

  �
��Which group goes first?”

  “We will alternate the rounds, starting with the Masters. That way you are able to study our grappling style.”

  “That works for me. What do we wear?”

  “Our warriors fight devoid of clothing.”

  “That doesn’t work for me.”

  “Aw, come on Cap. When in Rome, as the old saying goes.”

  “Not going to happen, Mack. Workout shorts.”

  “Princess Analyn, Commander Tarunga, humanity has a strong sense of modesty, of keeping our sexual organs covered and protected.”

  “Some more so than others.”

  “Yes, Mack. Some more so. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Keiko faked a glare at Mack, “Captain Marston, to protect his modesty, will wear a tight-fitting covering of his mid-area.”

  “I see no problem with that. We will have our gladiators attired in the same manner. I still do not think that this is a good idea, My Princess.”

  “There will be no mishaps. Sir Mahajani will be there. He will see to that.”

  “Your wish is my command, My Princess.”

  “And finally, the banquet. I think it will be a large one. Everyone not on duty will be asked to attend.”

  “If that’s anything like my ma, that’s a royal command.”

  “This will be a very good time to introduce our new friends and their ship to the beings of Wisdom Seeker.”

  “I agree whole heartedly, Your Highness. Will The King be in presence? The Prince?”

  “I will ask them. I suspect they will. We have mobile holographs, synthetic beings that can be guided from their position at the palace. With less than a five second time-lag, I think that’s right, five seconds, the Royal Presence will be no issue. We will be able to take them on tour, mingle with our people, spread some good will.”

  “Then this will be a formal banquet? Full dress?”

  “Yes, Ambassador Suzume.”

  “Time?”

  “Again, by your time, nine o’clock in the morning. Is that satisfactory?”

  “Perfectly so, Your Highness.”

  “Until tomorrow.”