MissionSRX: Deep Unknown

by Matthew D. White

  Groaning from the shock, he cursed himself for being so careless. Scott got his hands beneath him and crawled back to his feet. “Huh…” the sensation caused him pause and he tried again.

  He hadn’t noticed through his previous day aboard the ship, but push-ups became effortless. He almost laughed as he knocked out fifty, then switched to a single hand without the faintest hint of fatigue. He’d never been able to do such a thing under full gravity before. What all had the aliens done to him? At that moment, he felt he could have done two thousand.

  That was it. His smile faded and his eyes snapped wide open as he stared at the wall, still in the front leaning rest. The number was off. Scott turned himself around and took a seat on the floor, facing the panoramic sky. He sifted through the digits he had heard recited since leaving Mars.

  Something was off. Something, somewhere, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Scott got to his feet. He needed to see the others.

  ***

  “I think they’re ready,” Grant declared while seated to Fox’s side on the bridge of the Flagstaff during its first flight alongside their quintet of Patriots. Through the panoramic screen that stretched around the room, the operators could see glimmering forms of the alien ships to each side. With a flicker of light from the leading cannon on Patriot Battery, it let loose a round against a single rock far in the distance. In an instantaneous burst of light and fire, the small mass disintegrated into nothing.

  Fox nodded his approval but still wore an expression of concern. “It’s one thing to have them maneuver and hit a target. It’s another to do it under duress in the middle of a fight.”

  With a hiss, the entrance to the room swung aside. They turned to see Scott enter alone. He was still dressed in light armor but now walked with more authority than Grant was used to seeing. “I thought you were going to be training on armor all day?”

  “I was,” Scott said. “But I think we might have a problem.” His eyes scanned the room. “Is Omega around?”

  A look of concern washed over Grant’s face. “No, he was leaving us to our devices here on the range. It’s just us; why?”

  “Good shot, Sebastian,” Fox radioed out. “Clark you’re up. Don’t let me down.” He flipped the microphone off and turned back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you have a passenger manifest from before the jump; before all this started?”

  “Of course. The crew is always recorded and medical lists all of our wounded which I think are now healed.”

  “Did you ever compare that list with the one you used to build your crews on this side?”

  Fox and Grant exchanged a glance. “No, I only took note of everyone we had assembled here before we launched,” Fox replied.

  “Can you pull it up? How many do we have with us?”

  The commander punched a few commands into the console in front of him. “We had nineteen-forty-three traditional crew members plus another six-eighty-eight ground forces under Major Kael’s command. Twenty-six hundred, thirty one in total.”

  “Then I believe we have a problem,” Scott said, producing a single sheet of loose paper. “The Flagstaff went into the warp with twenty-eight-oh-eight.”

  “What?”

  “I’m saying we’re short a hundred and seventy-seven people; that’s what.”

  Grant’s surviving heart skipped a synthetic beat. “Are you sure about this?”

  “An hour ago I checked all the same systems you mentioned. We’ve lost soldiers from the infirmary. They just disappeared. A few complete squads of security guys are gone. I don’t think they had a commanding officer anymore. A few maintainers and low-level service folks are missing too.” He handed the paper over.

  “You got these from the medical system?” Fox asked, studying the sheet of scribbled figures and tables.

  “Yes. Don’t pull it up. I don’t want the system to log the data together.”

  Grant looked the numbers over and passed the sheet over to Fox, who scanned the numbers in like manner, comparing them to the roster still on his screen. He felt his eyes grow wider as he stared off into space, trying to think through what it all meant. Looking back and seeing the real fear in the engineer’s face forced him to retain his composure.

  “I’m not sure how much we can act on this,” Grant said.

  Scott shook his head. “I don’t agree. I think it’s pretty clear that there’s something seriously wrong here. We need to find out what.”

  Grant knew exactly where Scott was coming from. Through it all, the man’s tenacity was growing. He was becoming surer of himself and more connected to his senses. It was unlike him to be misled, but there were some things they weren’t at liberty to change. He sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

  The engineer nodded. “You’re telling me.”

  Fox and Grant shared a quick glance. It was fast but unmistakable. “I believe you; I absolutely do,” Grant stated. “But I’m not sure how much we can act on it right now.”

  Scott’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

  Fox leaned forward. “This is serious, but the operation will continue as we are planning. If you suspect something against the Lyrans, that’s understandable, but we can’t risk the alliance right now.”

  “I know you don’t like it; neither do I,” Grant echoed. “But we’ve got too many people whose lives are in our hands to do anything foolish.”

  “But the Lyrans--”

  “Like I said; foolish,” Grant snapped, cutting him off. “If they turn on us now, we will be powerless to stop the Cygnans from destroying Earth.” He saw the engineer was still holding strong. He needed to find some kind of resolution. “Can we come to a compromise?”

  “I don’t know. Can we?”

  Grant’s lip turned up as studied Scott’s resolve, “Well played. Since this one is going for Earth, I’m not about to call it off. If you want, see what else you can dig up and if you get a solid cause for concern we can present it to Omega once we get back. I don’t want to blame him for something like this without more information, and if we can retain Earth’s sovereignty, maybe we can recover alone. Is that fair enough?”

  Scott’s eyes fell then flickered back to life. “I guess so. I’ll get you everything you’ll need.” He turned away and left for the connecting hallway without another word.

  Grant glanced briefly back at Fox. The senior commander only nodded before he turned to follow the engineer back off the bridge.

  “Mr. Ryan!” Grant called after Scott, who stopped a few meters down and waited for him to catch up.

  “What else?” Scott asked, still obviously distraught from their previous conversation.

  Grant jogged up. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

  Scott hastily nodded, still flustered. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” he shot back.

  “I just don’t want you to think I didn’t hear you. If you hadn’t have found this, I doubt we would have ever realized it.”

  “Thanks, I guess. It’s just… I don’t know what to do now that I found this.”

  “I’m right there with you,” Grant displayed a tight smile. “We’re working on next-to-no information right now. I wish I knew what needed to be done, but we’ve got to keep going. Best we can do right now is keep Earth safe. That’s how things go in war.”

  The pair leaned against opposite walls of the hall. Grant stared off into space, looking for a word of encouragement. Scott’s eyes were caged on the floor.

  “Well, you can count on me one way or another. I’ll get you all the information I can find and whatever else you need.”

  “Thanks. What do you want to do in the next operation?” Grant asked, shifting the topic of conversation to something less contentious and unknown.

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I’m leaving it up to you. Whatever you want, go for it. I’ll be running defense with the other single-seat fighters. Hopefully we won’t need more than some
sharp triggers from the Patriot commanders.”

  “Can I join up with one of the security teams? Or at least shadow them?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Thanks. I’ll give all the engineering support I can, but it’ll probably be a moot point by then. Else I’m just hanging out here defenseless.” He paused. “Regardless, to hell with dying as a damn victim. I want no part of that.”

  Grant nodded again. “I know how you feel.” He stopped as he felt something deep in the ship change. Not so much a field but a presence.

  “Commander Grant!” Fox shouted down the hall. “Omega just landed in the port bay to see you.”

  He should have known. “Well, duty calls. Make sure you’re ready; we don’t have much time.”

  ***

  The commander bounded down the metal textured stairwell alone and dropped onto the flight deck below. Omega was already waiting, standing alone before a small Lyran transport, colored a silvery-white and looking as graceful as every other ship he had seen in their inventory.

  How are your preparations? the alien asked.

  Grant nodded as he jogged up. “Well. I think we’ll be ready within another day.” The conversation with Scott still rang in his head.

  Omega looked down quizzically. You sound unsure. Disconcerted, even.

  “I know,” he replied, trying to push aside the welling distrust which he was sure his host would sense. “I’m just concerned we get there in time.”

  That is understandable, Omega said and continued. We have spent entire lifetimes preparing for this morning. Do you have a moment to join me?

  Grant flashed a quizzical glance back towards the alien. “Sure. Where are we going?”

  Omega started back towards the ship. We are going to the Gardens of Elysium.

  “What’s that?”

  It is one of the oldest sites on our home planet. In time you’ll see more, but I believe you will find this insightful.

  The pair took their seats in a small passenger bay with no more than a dozen Spartan benches. Grant watched as the wall swung shut and the bay turned into a shrinking picture of the Flagstaff as they streaked off into space. “How far is it to Elysium?”

  Not far at all. We’ve been orbiting near it all along. Just a small rock you probably wouldn’t think twice about. He paused. Then again, you’d barely be able to see it without a significant scope.

  Grant stared across the stars. “I thought we were in deep space. How do you have a planet out here?”

  The star has very little energy; you’d call it a brown dwarf. However, it was nearly ejected from the galactic arm due to a gravitational perturbation. Part of the revelation of our transgression. A punishment, if you will.

  The commander continued to search the darkness for a sign of their destination. “So you interpreted an astronomical event as divine influence?”

  Don’t we all.

  The commander felt a chill descend on the room and dropped the subject. “How does it help with avoiding detection? Keeping facilities this far out?”

  Very well, as you’d expect. We keep most of the main facilities either outside of the galactic disc or as close as possible to larger stars. Deep space gives greater isolation from attack, but it’s also more difficult to get power and support. Building on a roaster is more dangerous but keeps us closer to energy and raw materials. Depending on the application, both have their perks.

  “If you say so,” Grant agreed as a growing haze began to surround the ship, almost as if they were dropping into a gas giant. “This is really your home?”

  Correct. The atmosphere is fairly thick but still affords us a view of the sky, at least from the higher elevations. You’ll find it breathable without discomfort.

  The gas continued to thicken and took on a slight blue glow. Whether it was from the star or the engines, Grant couldn’t be sure but it wasn’t a major point either way. Their ship quickly leveled out and came to rest in near total darkness. Omega stood first and started for the exit. We’ve arrived.

  Grant followed the alien outside as the lights automatically dimmed and were extinguished. On the first step beyond the cramped cabin, he felt a crunch beneath his foot. Looking down, he could see they had landed on an eroded cobblestone platform.

  The stones appeared chiseled by hand rather than molded from concrete and were fitted with extraordinary care. The tops were lightly rounded from lifetimes of use but sustained no cracks or chips. On top of that, they appeared as clean as the floor of a museum.

  Scanning about in the dim light as his eyes adjusted, Grant could see they were standing at the summit of a serpentine mountain range with a ridge that had been carved off eons ago to make a roadway. To each side the ground fell away quickly and gave way to massive expanses of foliage in all directions. At their elevation, the tops of the alien trees barely reached taller than the stone path.

  Our ancestors constructed this road through the garden long ago, Omega remarked proudly. It has survived countless storms and will weather thousands more before being given back to the ground. We are in the dark heart of the largest natural forest on the planet.

  Grant gazed off to the far horizon, where a thin sliver of red light still burned in the sunset. “What is its purpose?”

  Not everything has a tactical implication, you know. Not even for us, Omega preempted clarification. It was for conservation and contemplation. At this moment right now you might find it more useful than any battlement.

  The commander stepped forward again, the stone feeling as strange below his feet as the conversation he was having in his mind with the towering creature. It was odd, but in a way he felt serene; almost as if he were back at home. “I’d definitely call it relaxing,” he remarked and took another step forward, letting the stillness of the landscape wrap around him.

  Together they followed a path to the side which led to a circular observatory that crowned a lonely spur. Grant stopped at the edge, grasped the stone retaining wall which ended at his waist and looked far out above the sea of trees.

  Below him, unnoticed before but now unmistakable, bubbled up a million pinpricks of light. In the darkness the commander guessed they were some sort of bioluminescent insect, summoned by the setting sun and called to life in the twilight.

  The trees came alive with their movement, illuminated from the forest floor far below and casting fleeting, glowing rays into the thin haze of the sky, all the way to the stars far above.

  Seeing it all was a reminder to Grant as to where he had come from, how something so simple and familiar could still exist somewhere so very far from home. His face curled in sadness and Omega instantly sensed the change in his demeanor.

  What are you considering?

  “It’s not right; none of it,” he muttered. “I’ve been so selfish and it isn’t right.”

  How do you mean?

  “I had a family once. My parents were murdered without reason by my best friend. Allison, who I was certain I’d spend the rest of my life with, saved me in the aftermath. We started anew and I thought that’d be the end of it; that I could live in some sense of peace.” Grant shook his head.

  “When they were lost in the last war, I took it upon myself to avenge them. I went forward without regard for myself or to my men. Because of me we lost so many more than we needed to.” His face twisted in agonizing remorse. “All because I couldn’t let go! Dammit all!” He slammed his fist down on the stone. It stood firm.

  We all have regrets in war. Every survivor second-guesses their every move.

  “But there’s nothing left in me anymore. I’ve given everything I have.” Grant sighed. “I think you’ve made a mistake with me.”

  Omega stood silently for a long moment before replying. You still survived all of this, yes?

  “Yes.”

  And you’re standing here with me?

  “That’s obvious.”

  If for no other consolation, understand this: your decisions and actions brought you here. If
not for you, what would have transpired? How many more have been spared, again and again, by your actions?

  “That’s not right. If not me, someone else would have been there to stand up for them.”

  You’re wrong and you know it. You know as well as me that if it hadn’t been for you, humanity would be struggling through a train of defeats; possibly on their way to annihilation. Like it or not, you were the one who made the difference.

  Grant clamped his eyes shut. “How can I make the decision to do this?”

  It doesn’t matter; you already made it, Omega said, thought for a moment, and continued. If I gave you ten thousand ships and told you that victory would cost you the lives every last person on board, could you face it? If you needed to, could you take every last soul into the fire so the ones behind you could live?

  Grant’s gaze rose back to the far horizon. Even though the alien’s words sparked a flame of truth within his heart, he felt a swirl of anger and hatred; pain and loss. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Omega had a point. “I would lead every last one to his dying breath to see us victorious. I’d fight for humanity to the end.”

  Omega nodded silently and gripped the guardrail like his guest. That is why it is you. It will take someone with the deepest commitment to face what they have done, accept it, and do it again. We are in a war for our right to exist. Those are the odds and there is no one else among us who could face the arithmetic. The melodious words hung inside Grant’s mind, dissipating like the last chord struck in a symphony.

  10

  Scott swung Othello’s door open when he heard the other man’s greeting from the other side. He found the miner sitting at the far side of the room, wearing gray fatigues with the pants rolled up to his knees.

  “Come on in!” he announced again, waving as if there was a crowd approaching.

  “What are you doing?” Scott asked, trying not to stare.