by Paul Rix
"How can you be so sure?"
"He's taken me to his ship. I've seen the records, and he's telling the truth."
"What independent evidence do you have?"
Maxwell's shoulder slumped. "I'm sorry. I've not had the opportunity to corroborate what Oz has said. But that doesn't mean it's not true."
"Captain Maxwell, I made a lot of enemies on Earth despite everything that I did. Do you know how many would like to see me dead? You would have me believe that we have been in stasis for over two thousand years. That story is preposterous. This is all part of a plot to have me dead before we arrive at our destination. I expected better of you than to fall for such a trick."
"Sir, I know the truth of the matter is hard to accept. But I believe this man. Do not make a hasty judgment before you have seen the proof."
"Does it make sense that I would disturb you and your elite guard if I wanted you dead?" Garrett asked. "I found Britannic drifting through space purely by chance. I didn't think there would be anyone alive when I boarded it. And your presence was so secret that not even Captain Maxwell knew you were here until a short time ago."
Trask leaned across and whispered something to his wife. She looked suspiciously at Garrett and said something back to Trask who gave one small nod before returning his attention to Maxwell. "Can you show me the evidence? If it's so compelling, I'm sure you'll have no problem sharing it with me."
"I sent an officer to collect it. Data from Mr. Garrett's ship that will show what he's told you is true. He should have returned by now."
"I suggest you bring him to me immediately." Trask looked at the three of them and pointed at a shaking Takahashi. "You. Go with two of my guards and find your colleague. Tell him he is making me wait."
"Yes, of course, Mr. Global President," Takahashi replied, almost in a whisper.
Thompson signaled two of his soldiers, a man and a woman, to accompany her. "One of you remains in the control room, and ensure there are no radio transmissions. No one can know of the grand president's arrival." They fell in silently on either side of Takahashi as the three left the chamber.
Trask stared at Garrett. "If I'm not satisfied with the evidence, I'll have you shot for spying."
"He's not a spy," Maxwell protested, immediately regretting her outburst.
"Captain Maxwell. You're forgetting your place. I'm still considering the punishment for your gross negligence."
Garrett and Maxwell glanced at each other, willing O'Brien and Takahashi to return as soon as possible.
Chapter 24
The small electric cart accommodated only two people, so it required a degree of contortion for Takahashi and the two guards to grab a secure hold, especially with the guards' bulky armor and weapons. The trio began their trip along the dimly lit corridor in silence, but Takahashi could sense the guards had questions.
"How long since they reanimated you?" asked the female guard.
"Only about twenty-four hours."
"Does the dizziness take long to subside?"
"About two hours in my case. The nausea goes about the same time."
"Thanks, that's good to know. I'm Claudia Foster, by the way. My colleague here is Tyrell Booker."
"Sakura Takahashi, Britannic's chief engineer."
"I recognize you from your file image," said Tyrell.
"I have to ask. Do you think we're in the future?" Claudia asked.
Takahashi figured Claudia to be in her late thirties, but it was difficult to tell with her shaved head and dehydrated, leathery skin. Tyrell looked to be of a similar age. Both of them were tall and stocky and could easily have been effective football players in another life.
"It took a while for me to be convinced, but I've seen the evidence and been to Garrett's ship. If he’s lying, then it's a very elaborate hoax."
"What did he show you?" asked Tyrell.
Takahashi relaxed. These guards weren't so intimidating after all. "His ship itself showed us records on several PEAs that arrived safely in the Stellar Cluster. Nearly eight hundred and fifty ships completed the journey. He could show us a detailed timeline from the first colonists arriving right through to the current day, with family trees and biogs. There were relatives we all remembered. That would be hard to fake."
"Would he do the same for me? I have a sister and her family that left Earth four years before us. It would be incredible to find out how she did."
"I'm sure he would, Claudia. If not Garrett, then there is a rescue team on its way to help everyone here."
"Garrett may just have a memory-reading machine," interrupted Tyrell. "I hope he had other, more tangible proof. Grand President Trask will take a lot of convincing."
"He showed us around his ship. I counted numerous systems and technologies well beyond the sophistication of Britannic or anything I've ever seen. He tried explaining how his propulsion unit operated and, although I'm a qualified engineer, I still do not understand. In theory, his engines shouldn't work. They break so many rules from Einstein's equations. And don't get me started on conservation of energy. It shouldn't—"
Takahashi stopped talking as she realized the soldiers were giving her confused expressions.
"Does that mean humans have colonized new planets?" Tyrell asked, moving on to simpler questions.
"Yes. I think Garrett said there were about a dozen habitable worlds. Apparently, all the forecasts and calculations about the Stellar Cluster were true."
By now, they were less than one hundred meters from the command center. "Is that your friend?" the male guard asked as he saw movement in the corridor ahead of them.
Takahashi peered along the core, unsure from this distance if it was O'Brien. Something about him appeared different. But who else could it be? All she could make out was a dark silhouette near the hatch leading to the airlock.
"Call out to him," said Tyrell. "We don't want to frighten him."
Takahashi took a deep breath. "Hey, Luke. It's me, Sakura. Have you collected the device?"
The distant figure appeared to jump at the sound of her voice but didn't reply.
"That's odd. I'm sure he heard me."
"Slow the cart," Claudia ordered, pulling out her rifle from behind her.
"Why?"
"Call him again," she replied. Her friendly manner had disappeared, replaced by military professionalism.
Takahashi looked around to see Tyrell also had his rifle ready, pointing it along the corridor. "Luke, let me know it's you. You're making my friends nervous."
Silence.
"What do you think?" Claudia said to her colleague.
"I don't like it," he whispered. Nudging Takahashi on the shoulder, he asked, "Have you taken us into a trap?"
"Of course not. There's only Luke, and he's a doctor. He wouldn't harm anyone."
That assumption was quickly shown to be false as a brief flash of bright light from the direction of the figure resulted in Tyrell letting out a blood-curdling scream. His body convulsed as blood erupted from his nose and mouth.
"Tyrell!" exclaimed Claudia. By now, he had released his grip on the cart and was slowly floating away along the central core, back the way they had come. She tried reaching out for him, but he was too far away. He was hit by another shot, his body glowing a faint blue for a fraction of a second. The convulsions stopped, and it was clear from the expressionless eyes that he was dead. Small globules of blood followed his body as it bumped softly off the far wall.
It had all happened far too quickly for Takahashi. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She had never seen anyone murdered before, let alone someone as close as the guard had been.
"Get us back to Trask. Now!" ordered Claudia.
Takahashi tried to flick the control on the cart, but her hands wouldn't release their grip from the handle.
"Don't move."
Takahashi didn't recognize the voice calling out. It certainly was not O'Brien's.
Claudia raised her rifle and fired a quic
k burst of three shots toward the silhouetted figure. The sound was like thunder in her ears and reverberated in every direction. Before she squeezed her eyes shut, she saw a series of three sparks and flashes as the projectiles hit the wall close to the figure before ricocheting along the corridor.
The recoil from the rifle was unexpected and nearly knocked Takahashi from the cart.
"What's happening?" she shouted.
"Just hit the button. We're not safe."
To reiterate her point, Takahashi saw two more dark figures emerge from the command center, both carrying weapons.
Claudia fired three more shots, this time at the two newcomers, hitting one of them squarely in the chest and sending them spinning down the central core.
The victory was short-lived. With no warning, Claudia began convulsing and yelling out in pain. Takahashi felt a warm tingling sensation shoot from her shoulder down to her hand and also began trembling.
"Get away," Claudia said, through gritted teeth. The next moment, her eyes bulged and exploded in their sockets, covering Takahashi's face in warm sticky blood and fluid. The guard let out one shallow sigh and was still.
Reflexively, Takahashi kicked the body away, doing her best not to be violently sick as she wiped the guard's blood from her own eyes. The pain in her left arm was mushrooming. Just before she passed out, a voice close to her shouted, "Don't move!"
And then everything went black.
Chapter 25
Everyone in Trask's chamber heard the thunderous sound of the firefight as it echoed along the central core. There was no mistaking the staccato noise of the magneto rifles.
As the noise stopped as quickly as it had started, Garrett felt the eyes of everyone in the room on him. "I was right," declared Trask, staring directly at Garrett. "You're here to have me killed."
Two guards swiftly seized Garrett by his arms. Although their grips were weak, he knew there was no point trying to resist. "Whatever just happened has nothing to do with me. I promise."
"Then tell me who attacked my guards?"
"I don't know. I arrived here alone. Another group must have found Britannic."
"Is that likely? I keep being reminded about the vastness of space?"
"I found it!" Garrett replied. He was wracking his brain, concerned about this unexpected turn of events. If there was another group on board, there was no telling what their intentions were.
Thompson made his way to the hatch and cautiously stuck his head into the corridor. "I can't see or hear anything. The fighting must have stopped."
"Maybe the weapons were fired by mistake," Maxwell said, to no one in particular.
The suggestion was met with silence.
"It was only an idea," she insisted. "No one else is offering any viable alternatives."
Thompson retrieved a telescopic sight from a pod near the hatch and pointed it along the core. He was silent as he scanned the corridor. "I can see some large objects floating in this direction," he said. "I can't make out what they…" He paused as he adjusted the scope again. "It's Bishop and Rooney!"
"What about Sakura?" Maxwell asked, desperation in her voice.
"There is movement further along the corridor. Two individuals, carrying weapons. A third person may be your friend, but it's impossible to distinguish from here. The light is too dim,"
Maxwell rushed to the hatch, but three burly guards blocked her way. "Let me see."
Thompson ignored her demands and continued his dialogue. "They have gone through a hatch. I see two more in the core with weapons, acting as sentries." He re-entered the chamber, passing the scope to another guard. "Wilson, let me know if anything changes. Count how many combatants you see. I want to know what we're up against. And retrieve the bodies when they reach here."
Trask appeared confused by the situation. "Why are the bodies coming toward us?"
"Britannic is slowly tumbling end over end," Maxwell replied, trying to make sense of the situation. "The rotation is slow enough that you don't really feel it but there's sufficient centrifugal force to send all untethered objects out toward either end of the ship. The further away from the axis, the greater the effect."
"More information you've neglected to mention. Why is Britannic tumbling?" Trask asked. "That is not within the mission profile."
"It's a side effect of drifting in space for many centuries," Garrett answered. "I've seen the outer hull. It's been bombarded by meteorites and scorched by getting too close to at least one star. All those impacts over time have gradually caused the ship's momentum to alter, injecting a slow rate of spin. With the attitude thrusters offline, there was no way to correct the motion."
"More of your fiction, Garrett," snapped Trask. "The only evidence I have is two dead guards, killed by accomplices of yours."
"I assure you, they have nothing to do with me. And I suggest that if you want to stay alive, you listen to me."
Maxwell frowned and looked at Garrett. "You have to admit there are too many coincidences."
"Not you as well, Lacey? I thought we'd been through this."
"That was before other people mysteriously appeared on my ship. It seems too convenient that I was well away from the command center when they boarded. You allowed Luke and Sakura to be taken. Are they still alive?"
Garrett stared back in shock, unsure what to say. He had no immediate answers.
"How many of your friends are on Britannic?" Trask persisted. "Are they here to kill or kidnap me?"
"I don't know," Garrett replied, unable to disguise his frustration. "Believe me when I tell you, I have nothing to do with whoever else is aboard Britannic."
At that moment, three guards pulled the corpses of Bishop and Rooney into the chamber. Everyone in the room fell silent as they stared at the horrific wounds suffered by their colleagues, the frozen expressions of agony on each soldier's face a clear indicator of how traumatic their deaths had been.
"What kind of weapon does this?" Thompson demanded.
Garrett was all too familiar with the wounds. He'd seen more than enough dead soldiers in his time with similar injuries. "Photonic resonance blasters," he replied. "They cause the molecules in your body to resonate at a fatal frequency, effectively shaking your body apart from the inside. Victims die from catastrophic shock as all interior organs explode. I'm told the pain is excruciating and brief."
"I've never heard of such weapons."
"That's because as far as you're concerned, no one has invented them yet." Garrett turned back toward Trask. "If you wanted proof that you're two thousand years in your future, then there it is. Humans never stop finding novel ways to inflict pain and suffering."
Trask stared down at the two bodies in front of him, studying them carefully. The injuries intrigued rather than horrified him.
"Who has those kinds of weapons? Where can I get some?"
"These types of plasma rifles are widespread across the Stellar Cluster. Initially for military use, they're available on the black market for anyone willing to pay the right price. If the group on this ship possesses photonic resonance blasters, then they're likely to have other military-grade equipment. Your guards won't stand a chance."
"You've not seen my guards in action," Thompson replied proudly.
"I can see that you're already two down," Garrett said coldly. "Let me explain the scenario in a way you'll understand. Comparing your guards' weapons with those of this group is comparing spears with a high-yield nuclear bomb."
"Major Thompson's troops are the finest trained. They'll overpower the opposition and take their weapons by force," Trask said, defiantly.
"Okay, you have almost two hundred elite guards. But take a look at them. They're dehydrated, lacking strength and coordination. Their bodies need time to recover before they're anywhere near close to being able to put up meaningful resistance."
"But surely the large numbers will make a difference. Some guards may be rusty after cryo-stasis, but the sheer volume would overwhelm the enemy. You�
��ve seen only a handful of them."
Garrett clenched his fists to remain calm. Trask was yet another politician who placed a low value on the life of military personnel he trusted to protect his life. "That means nothing. You don't know how many soldiers there are on this ship. The cramped, confined space of the central core works against you. Isn't that right, major?" Garrett looked directly at Thompson, challenging him to agree. He desperately needed someone on his side, and the head of Trask's personal guards was the logical option.
"Grand President, Garrett is correct," Thompson agreed reluctantly. "I could only deploy a dozen guards at a time without them getting in each other's way. And it would be suicide to attack until we know what we're fighting against. I want to get more intel before risking any more lives."
"I didn't hire you to hide away in corners, major."
"No, sir. You appointed me to defend you and your consort. That is what I am trying to do to the best of my abilities."
This wasn't the answer Trask wanted to hear. "I don't see how doing nothing is in any way protecting me. I expect you to follow my instructions and clear the obvious threat from Britannic."
Thompson shook his head. "For now, they have us trapped. We can defend this position effectively, but we can't gain control of Britannic from this chamber."
Trask's face was turning red with rage. "Captain Maxwell. Is there any way to retake control of your ship from the engineering section?"
Maxwell took a few seconds to work out the alternatives. "It depends what you want to control. Engineering can handle the propulsion and thrust. But we manage comms and environmental systems in the command center."
The information set alarm bells ringing in Garrett's head. "So they could turn off air and heat to this part of the ship?"
Maxwell turned pale. "Over time they could. You saw how long it took to get the ship habitable again. Of course, they'd need two bridge officers to authorize the commands."
"My guess is they already had O'Brien. And we just sent Sakura."
"My God! We've done their job for them! We have to send a rescue party."