by Paul Rix
O'Brien's eyes narrowed. "I see."
"He's only stayed to ensure no one else stakes a claim on what he now sees as his prize."
"That matters little to me," O'Brien replied. "I'm happy to be alive. It's certainly better than the alternative."
Delta shrugged. "I wanted you to know the type of man you're dealing with. Trust is very important to me."
"I feel just as important about trust too, so thank you for the warning. If you wait here, I can find the captain and return here so you can explain everything to her. It may be easier when Garrett is in the room."
The smile and veneer of friendliness slipped from Delta's face. "I think it's better that you remain here."
O'Brien glanced around to see one of Delta's guards hovering directly in front of the hatch, his gigantic frame blocking any chance of escape. "Am I your prisoner?"
"Of course not. You're my esteemed guest. I'm merely ensuring you remain safe."
"Safe from what?"
Delta put her arm across his shoulder and said, "Luke, I think you know."
***
In chamber five, the first dozen of Trask's troops were almost ready to exit their pods. Garrett had been fascinated as he watched the leather cocoons gradually melting away to reveal formidable-looking soldiers wearing black uniforms trimmed with the same shade of red that ran around the edges of each pod. From the odd bulky shape of the uniforms, he surmised there must be a layer of body armor beneath.
As color slowly returned to the pallid faces of each soldier, Garrett reminded himself of how he'd led Marines into battle. For so many years, his had been the voice of authority and every soldier in his platoon knew not to question him. Now it was time once again to show that leadership to keep these scared soldiers in line. One factor in his favor was the soldiers were going to be fatigued and disoriented. At least for a short while until the nutrition shakes had the desired effect, and he had seen how quickly those shakes transformed Maxwell, Takahashi, and O'Brien. It convinced him the drinks included a stimulant.
Although Maxwell was captain of Britannic, she had admitted a lack of military background. She didn't know how to talk to these soldiers, and he knew they would ignore her. His task was to keep them occupied until Trask was aware enough to understand what was happening. He hoped O'Brien returned in time with the device. Being able to demonstrate with physical evidence would be far more compelling than expecting the former global president to take his word.
Maxwell was becoming increasingly wary of the number of soldiers involved. While she was furious at what Trask had done, she was anxious about what could happen in the next few hours. Countless lives were at stake. "Why can't we take their weapons before they recover?"
"What would you do with them? There would be two hundred angry and scared soldiers demanding their guns back. They would see it as a threat. If you want to gain their trust, then touch nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"If you're a soldier, your rifle is a part of you. Like an extra limb. Without it, you feel vulnerable and that can cause a wide range of emotions. You'll be setting a terrible example. Show them respect. Treat them like soldiers."
Maxwell looked confused. "I'm going to have to trust you on this one."
On cue, the doors on six pods swung open and, as one, the six soldiers’ first reaction was to reach for their rifles. Garrett had already spotted one soldier with an additional insignia on his uniform which Maxwell explained gave him the rank of major. He figured this would be a good place to start.
The major opened his eyes wide as his body tensed. Blinking rapidly, it took several moments to focus on what was around him. Garrett waited patiently, not wanting to shock the major into any hasty action. The major looked confused enough by the strangers staring at him.
"Who are you?" the major asked as he brought up a short projectile weapon with a wide muzzle, pointing it shakily at Garrett's head.
Garrett raised both of his hands defensively, hoping the major would see that he was unarmed. "It's okay. My name is Osiris Garrett and you are still on Britannic. We have brought you out of stasis."
"I don't know you. Or you," he said as he saw Maxwell and Takahashi. "Why are you in Global President Trask's chamber?"
"The ship has arrived at the Stellar Cluster. We triggered your reanimation in error."
"I'm Captain Lacey Maxwell. We didn't know they had placed the global president on board Britannic," Maxwell added as she watched the major tug tubes from his arms.
"We classified the information." The major's eyes narrowed. "Have you informed any other vessels?"
"No one but us knows about this chamber," Garrett replied. He hoped his assured tone would convince the major. "What is your name?"
The major closed his eyes for two seconds. "Major Jake Thompson. Tell me, did you feel nauseous and dizzy when you came out of stasis?"
Maxwell smiled and nodded. "I think it's all part of the reanimation process. Our bodies don't enjoy being in cryo-stasis for such a long period. Drink plenty of water and your nutrition shakes. Rehydration and replacement of electrolytes will work wonders, I promise."
The major lowered his gun and finished unstrapping himself from the pod. Keeping one eye on Garrett, he found his flask and began drinking.
"How about my detachment?"
Garrett nodded. "See for yourself. They're all coming out of stasis as well."
Thompson pulled himself far enough forward that he could see the other open pods. Satisfied the process was working, he wearily relaxed back into his pod and finished his nutrition shake.
Over the following ten minutes, an increasing number of pods opened in a pre-planned sequence. By now, Major Thompson and the first cohort of guards had recovered enough to float out of their pods and inspect those of their comrades. Four guards had taken up position by the hatch. To Garrett's annoyance, another four guards were closely watching him, Maxwell, and Takahashi.
"Does the major think we're here to harm the global president?" Maxwell asked in a low voice.
"He's following orders to secure the chamber and protect Trask. Thompson will have been selected because of his loyalty, so it's to be expected."
"You'd think he would show me more respect as Britannic's captain."
"That makes no difference to him. As far as he's concerned, this chamber is his space. He doesn't know why you're here. I've seen him glance at me several times. He knows I'm not part of the crew."
"Why has he not asked you any questions?" Takahashi asked. She had her arms folded tightly across her chest and kept looking nervously at the weapons.
"We're not important enough and he has us subdued. Thompson thinks there will be plenty of time for answers once he's roused all his men and women. He may even wait for Trask to be revived before he speaks to us."
Maxwell pointed to the guards near the hatch. "I'm surprised Luke hasn't returned yet. You don't think they've scared him off?"
Garrett checked his chronometer. Forty-five minutes should have been enough time to get to his ship and back, but it was too early to worry about him. "The guards will see him before he spots them. They're expecting him after all. Perhaps Luke is having problems with his EVA suit."
"Maybe," Maxwell said doubtfully. "All the pods are now open or completing their reanimation cycles. It will not be long before Trask is awake and wanting answers."
"We'll be okay," Garrett replied. "I can explain everything."
"You've clearly not heard about Global President Trask's reputation."
Chapter 22
"You're not the rescue team, are you?" The command room was feeling very cramped, and all O'Brien wanted to do was escape to anywhere else on the ship. But the burly soldier in front of the hatch made it clear he wasn't going anywhere.
"Very perceptive," Delta replied. "Your instincts have not deserted you, despite your long time in stasis. The good news for you is that I am the president's daughter and not one of the scavengers I just described. The bad new
s is that Garrett has caused serious headaches for all of us."
"What do you want with Britannic?"
"Information. This is the first PEA that's turned up for over one hundred and eighty years. The president is fascinated by what secrets this ship may have. She'll be thrilled to learn that one of those secrets is you and your fellow colonists."
"When does the rescue team arrive?"
"I need to work that out. You and your crew weren't part of my plan."
"Which is?"
"Something I'm not ready to share with you at the moment. I like to keep my options open. And I have learned to never explain myself to anyone. A benefit of my standing in the Federation."
Commander Stone interrupted the conversation. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. We still can't access Britannic's data files. Access is code-locked."
"Really? We can't break into a system as archaic as this?"
"That's the problem. The security system is so old that the Planck decoder cannot decipher it. It also appears to have bio-security measures in place."
O'Brien allowed himself a small smile. Delta saw it out of the corner of her eye. "You find the situation amusing?"
"I expected to be blown away by your technological superiority. Instead, you can't even get past a simple retina scan. Maybe you're too smart for your own good."
Delta gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to punch O'Brien for his insolence. The man still may be of use. "Is there an alternative solution?"
"Why should I help you?"
"Because you'd be a fool to fight me. I have little patience and I don't have time for games."
"I don't think the captain would approve of you trying to steal the ship's data."
"You dare to defy me?" This time, her fist connected with O'Brien's jaw, sending him flying across the room and crashing into an equipment rack.
O'Brien rubbed his chin, his eyes wide in shock at the sudden and unexpected attack. He glared at Delta, ready for another assault.
"Can you unlock the controls?"
"No. The system requires scans from two bridge officers as an extra security layer."
"Dead or alive?"
O'Brien hesitated before being jabbed hard in the ribs by one of Delta's soldiers. "Alive if you don't want ruptured blood vessels to prevent the scan from recognizing one of us."
Pointing at the empty pods, Delta said, "It seems that three of you are available to complete the task. I don't need you."
"Look. I don't want to die any more than you. I'm sure the captain will assist you in any way you need. There's absolutely no need for violence."
"That's more like it, Dr. O'Brien. I knew you were an intelligent man. Can you kindly tell me where Garrett and your colleagues are?"
"Do you promise they won't come to any harm?"
"Of course. Provided they don't put up any resistance."
O'Brien knew that was a lie. The president's daughter had already displayed a ruthless streak and seemed more than capable of deception. But she had the strength of numbers on her side. "They're inspecting the storage bays at the front of the ship."
Delta looked suspiciously at him. "All of them?"
"Yes."
"Why were you going in the opposite direction?"
"As Chief Medical Officer, I needed to check the chambers to confirm how many colonists have survived. The storage bays are of no interest to me."
"I would have expected your captain to be concerned with the colonists’ welfare."
"She is. But this is a large ship. We can't all be inspecting the same areas."
Delta continued to stare at him, unsure if he was telling her the truth. He held firm under her intense gaze until she turned to give Commander Stone his orders.
"You heard him. Take two guards to bring back whoever is up front. I don't need to tell you to be quick."
Stone bowed. "Yes, Your Grace."
"And take three of the spatial displacement mines with you. You may as well plant some while you're there."
O'Brien watched the soldiers go with a sense of foreboding. They would know in the next ten minutes he had lied to them. Would that be enough time for Garrett to come searching for him? But something Delta had just said caught his attention.
"Did you say mines?"
"That's correct. Once I've obtained everything I came for, I'm going to destroy Britannic."
Chapter 23
Additional troops gathering around Trask's pod were a sign that his revival was close. The buzz of excitement grew louder as the minutes passed.
Garrett turned to Maxwell. "Have you ever spoken with him?"
She had been intensely concentrating on what was occurring in the chamber. "Not personally. He made a speech to the final tranche of PEA bridge officers when we graduated about ten months ago. I was standing over fifty meters away in a crowd of hundreds."
"I was hoping he might know who you are."
"He was too busy overseeing Project Exodus as well as heading the government to speak to the likes of me."
"You don't sound too disappointed."
Maxwell looked around nervously. "Trask has a reputation for being unpredictable, abrasive, and arrogant," she whispered. "My life isn't poorer for not being in his close circle. In fact, it's difficult not to despise some of his actions."
"Why is that?"
"He has a reputation for ruthless efficiency. While that worked to achieve Project Exodus, there was plenty of collateral damage along the way. I'm not just talking about the rioters that were shot. Vast supplies of food were diverted to the project, not just for the colonists but also the millions of workers who supported the construction effort. As a result, millions of people around the world starved."
"Perhaps he considered it worthwhile to give humanity a chance."
Maxwell shrugged. "I sometimes wondered if the price was too high. Those people didn't have a choice. How did Project Exodus benefit them? To be honest, I ignored the situation, sticking my head in the sand to concentrate on saving my own family. Does that make me as bad as him?"
Garrett saw the genuine sadness in her eyes. "Only you can answer that. It sounds as if they gave everyone an impossible choice. But you succeeded. You and the rest of humankind that had faith in the project. Wait until you see what we have achieved in the Stellar Cluster. You will be truly amazed. And it's all thanks to visionaries on Earth who made it possible. And people like you who took the leap of faith."
Maxwell smiled weakly. "Thanks, Oz. I hope I get to see it."
"I promise you will. I'll even give you a guided tour if you'd like."
Their discussion was interrupted by movement and muted conversations among the crowd gathered around the grand president's pod. Garrett looked across and could just make out the top of Trask's pod swinging open. A loud cheer rang out from the soldiers in the chamber, followed by the thunder of fists being slapped hard onto metallic breastplates.
The noise subsided. Garrett could hear several men speaking, but he couldn't understand what was being said.
Five minutes later, the crowd of soldiers parted, allowing Major Thompson to make his way toward Garrett and Maxwell. "Grand President Trask wants to speak with you." His face revealed no emotion, but Garrett sensed the major wasn't entirely pleased with the situation.
Maxwell, Garrett, and Takahashi followed Thompson through the throng of soldiers, aware for the first time that all eyes were on them.
Trask was sitting forward in his pod being attended to by a physician. Garrett's first thought was how old the grand president looked in person; maybe thirty years older than the images he had seen in history journals. He knew the effects of cryo-stasis would play a part in that, but he also suspected someone had manipulated the history books.
Trask must have been in his early eighties. The wrinkles on his face and corpulent neck came as a tremendous surprise. The old man didn't have the air of a tyrannical leader. He looked frail and almost clinging to life, unlike the blonde woman who was sitting near him wit
h a worried expression on her face. Garrett instantly recognized her as Trask's consort, Magdalena. She couldn't be over forty-five years old and didn't appear to have suffered as much from the years in stasis.
Trask's eyes slowly focused on the newcomers, and then directly on Maxwell. "Captain Maxwell, Major Thompson informs me we have arrived at the Stellar Cluster."
The authoritative strength of the man's voice shocked Garrett. It was stronger and far more commanding than he had expected from a frail old man.
"That's correct, sir," she replied nervously, her throat suddenly dry.
"Have you heard from any other ships? Have you received instructions to set course for any planets?"
Maxwell wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "There has been no contact with other ark vessels. But the situation is complicated."
Trask's bushy eyebrows knitted together. "How so, captain?"
"There was some kind of issue with Britannic's propulsion systems. It took us longer than anticipated to reach the Stellar Cluster."
"You seem reticent to give me the full picture."
"Let me explain," said Garrett.
Trask slowly turned his head to look directly at Garrett with a look of disdain. "Who are you to interrupt the captain of this ship?"
Garrett returned the grand president's stare. "Sir, my name is Osiris Garrett. I was born in the Stellar Cluster on a planet called Lafayette. I'm a descendant of Earth. Using your Earth calendar, the current year is AD 4868. Your ship has taken over two thousand years to arrive."
Trask continued to stare at Garrett as if he was speaking a foreign language. He then looked back at Maxwell. "Where did you find this man?"
"Mr. Garrett started the reanimation process for the bridge crew less than thirty-six hours ago. He has shown me evidence to support his claims and I believe he is who he says he is."