by Paul Dayton
Ruth laughed and they left hand in hand.
Nan’mtek calmly walked to the exit door, and once through she closed it behind her. After looking down the hallway and certifying that she was alone, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart had been beating rapidly, and if it wasn’t for her medication she felt she would have had another stroke. ‘Honestly, these people are like children,’ she said to herself. ‘And I still have three more to deal with...’
At that moment Nun walked into the hallway and approached her.
“You were successful.”
She took no joy in the comment, knowing it wasn’t a commendation. “So far. One more to go, the most important one.”
“It is. Do you think any will survive Keenan’s mission?”
“No. I’m afraid the computer calculations are correct. Their drop suits have been programmed, just in case.”
“And Timothy and Ruth?” Nun asked.
“If we get to the aliens in time, if they agree to help, if they can offer anything of significance…There are far too many if’s. However, the two will live, even with their incompetent Captain.”
“If their mission fails, the issue of life is moot.”
Nan’mtek looked at him, and his comment reminded her why she married him.
“Wish me luck,” she said, knowing neither believed in it.
She went over to the room where Finley was waiting, and steadied herself for the emotional ordeal she would have to face in making the next request. Once in, Finley, who had been studying a digital display of a 3 dimensional model of a modified sugar molecule, stood up rapidly and awkwardly, wondering why it was that he had been requested to a meeting.
“Mr. Finley, I’m sure you are wondering why we asked you to come.”
“Well, yes, actually. I’m a librarian specializing in digital files of…”
“We know, Mr. Finley, and that’s the exact reason why you are here. We have a special request to make, and one that is personally very difficult for me to ask of you.”
Finley was intrigued and worried at the same time.
“We know of your abilities, and we followed the Maxon camera and voice feeds that recorded your actions on Pluto Deep Space Base. We also know that you kept the Angela persona that gave your crew so much trouble. There was no need as we have a copy of it ourselves, but that’s irrelevant.
“It is obvious that you have an unusual ability to improvise, and your various fields put you in a unique position to be ‘used’, if you so agree. We have a mission we would like you to be part of. You would work alone. It would involve danger, and you may not survive, but at the same time, it will allow you to peer into the computer systems the aliens use and, if successful, modify them. It may well play the key part in destroying our enemies once and for all.”
Finley stood quiet as he contemplated what Nan’mtek had said. Finally, he replied, “What is it you want me to do?”
Nan’mtek left Finley, surprising herself at how difficult her request had been to make. Their careful study of his personality had come to fruition, and the planted words she had included in her comments had their desired effect. Still, her conscience troubled her more with Finley than it did with Keenan. He was a hardened soldier who expected to die at any moment. Finley was a stubborn, hard-headed librarian. Dying was the furthest thing from his mind.
Jack and Scratch were next, and they were by far the most dangerous of the whole group. She felt her upper forearm until her fingertips came across another of the tiny plastic bubbles that had been implanted before everyone arrived. Popping it, she felt the rush of adrenalin as the psi-blockers worked their way to her brain again. She had to be absolutely certain that they could in no way read her mind.
She stilled her heart back to 72 beats per minute, pressed the receiver implanted behind her ear and simply said, “Where?”
“Commissary,” was the one word reply.
She laughed. “Good old Scratch,” she said to herself.
***
Scratch was pigging out again, which annoyed Jack to no end. ‘How could he eat like that?’ She thought. He ate at least four times more than she did, and yet he never got fat.
Scratch looked at her and said, “Honey, honestly. We’ve talked about envy before.”
“Shut-up, or I’ll make sure your mouth will be wired shut for...” Nan’mtek entered the room and she quickly finished her sentence “a kiss.”
Scratch smiled and blew her a kiss.
“So, I am hoping both of you are curious as the where we’d like to send you.”
“Actually, no. We’re on our honeymoon,” Jack said.
Nan’mtek smiled and replied, “Good. Then I have the perfect planet. Dry, sunny, warm... you know, right up your alley.”
Jack was intrigued but refused to show it and stayed quiet. Scratch stood there uncomfortably, watching the two women measure each other up. He had seen this many times before but always in a bar, and he knew better then to get in the middle of this, so he simply played invisible and kept eating.
Nan’mtek finally said, “Jack, we’re on the same page here. I am not the one who is your enemy.”
“True, but you’re not exactly being truthful either. Does that make you my friend?”
“There are many things I can’t tell you, whether you agree to this or not. However, let’s call a truce and get to the point of this meeting. The ants, at one time, never had technology or spaceflight, you know.”
“They didn’t?” Scratch mumbled, his mouth full. Swallowing, he added, “Well, I mean, of course they didn’t. Just like us, right?”
“I know what you mean Scratch. You’re much smarter than you sound, you know.” Jack laughed at that one.
“The truth is, the ants stole it. They don’t have Einsteins or Jonathan Diazes.”
“But they have a lot of new stuff though,” Jack said. “Like that stealth craft we stole.”
“You’re right, but even that didn’t come from them, simply because they aren’t able to do it. Think of it this way. Think back to the discovery that most metals could be made transparent. When and how did that happen?”
Jack had to dig deep to remember the article from the teaching unit. “In 2010, a number of scientists expanded on the fact that glass’ state is puzzling, neither a solid nor a liquid.”
“Exactly! Regular glass, like your drinking cup. And nobody could classify it. It was such a mystery!” Nan’mtek said as she clapped her hands. And yet, NASA did studies, applied the known information to metals and…”
“Within 10 years we had our first continuously transparent piece of aluminum,” Jack finished off.
“Yes. And thirty years later?”
“We were able to turn various metals transparent with the flick of a toggle.”
“So, in forty years, we went from investigation, to adjustable transparency in metals. After 14,700 years, the ants still don’t have this. Do you know why?”
“Because we didn’t give it to them?” Scratch said, butting in.
“Exactly. They don’t have ants with 200 I.Q.’s; they’re opportunists. They steal. They DO NOT create. Everything they have has been scavenged and stolen from other civilizations. That is their genetic makeup, and they’re very good at it.”
“Okay,” Jack replied. “So, what does this have to do with us?”
“I would like you both to go to the very first ant planet, the original. It’s still around you know, but it is no longer their homeworld as it has been wiped clean of resources. Go there, and complete the mission objectives downloaded on to the stealth ship.”
“But we destroyed their homeworld. Six months ago.”
“Their present homeworld was. As far as we can tell, this is their fifteenth homeworld.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. “What happened to the other ones?”
“As soon as they raped one planet, they’d set up shop on another. They’ve been doing this for 15,000 years.”
“So, one planet per t
housand years.”
“Keep in mind that the growth is algorithmic and exponentially increasing, and we worked out that with their present growth they will soon be consuming a planet every four hundred years. As it is, in five thousand years every known Class A, B, and C planet will be consumed.” Nan’mtek let that truth sink in before continuing.
“In any case, go to the first one. Once there, I want you to give yourselves up.”
CHAPTER 28
Alien Species 322
Timothy and Ruth were depressed. Commander Hollander had insisted that they travel to Lucious Prime on a World Federation ship, and he would have liked to have taken them himself, but the patch job done at Nady on the rear half had been quick and dirty and needed to be completed properly. On top of that, stores were down and they had to fulfill their contract to supply Nady with the trade goods to pay for the repairs, and this, together with the duties Hollander had to perform in getting the fleet ready prevented him from accompanying the two. Ruth and Timothy were on a ship they had never seen before except on the instruction units, with a crew they didn’t know who felt they were babysitting royalty.
The two tried to make themselves helpful, but most politely declined the help. The only friend Timothy made was with a mechanic, Tyler Evans, responsible for resupplying oxygen, Nitro-tetroxide and hydrazine tanks and other fluids necessary to keep the fighter and support craft running.
Timothy followed him around the hanger, wheeling the complex fluids cart and refilling cylinders as necessary, while Tyler chatted away. At the moment, they had the port side nitrogen access cover open on a Rapier light fighter and Timothy was watching the gauge as he filled the tank. As he did so, his eyes trailed down the hose bolted to the side of the rapier and over to the regulator. It had sprung a small leak and had condensation forming around a fitting. Grabbing a spanner, he tightened it up, and that’s when he noticed two dark streaks on the inner hull next to the heavy duty relay.
“Tyler, you’ve got a problem here,” he said.
Tyler came by to look but didn’t see anything. Timothy had to explain it, but as soon as he said the words ‘Electrical’, Tyler cut him short and yelled, “Dilliney! Electrical issue!”
“What? I don’t have all day,” he said gruffly as he walked over, obviously overworked.
Tyler nodded to Timothy, and Timothy answered, “There’s shorting here near this relay. The scars are almost 30 centimeters long so the short is serious. Tetroxide and oxygen hoses run along this channel and any minor leak or burst line would be a disaster.”
Dilliney took a closer look and spotted the frozen but now melting condensation around the nitro fitting. “You tighten that?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Hmm. Good job. Tyler, you need him?”
Tyler stammered, knowing he didn’t but liking his company.
“Good,” Dilliney said without waiting for a reply. “Come give me a hand.”
Timothy spent the rest of the afternoon waist deep in grease and ship innards, checking connections, cleaning terminals and replacing worn parts. Halfway through Dilliney’s shift, he laughed as he asked Timothy to remove a damaged bus, and Timothy could see why. The bus was partially melted and almost impossible to reach.
“Why did it melt?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s very common. Pilots ignore the alarms as they overheat their lasers once they run out of bullets, and it gets even hotter in this area if the ship is sun-side. Combine the two and you eventually have this.”
Timothy looked at the bus and its location. He not only had to go in head first, but he had to somehow pry the unit off and scrape off the melted material.
A few hours had passed as Timothy was trying to install the new buss. His legs were up in the air and his body buried as he jerked and struggled to get the buss off, but was interrupted when he heard a voice from somewhere outside. The voice had called two or three times but Timothy ignored it as he yelled out, “I’m busy!”
Finally, a loud ring reverberated through the ship as the person outside smacked the hull with a spanner.
“What!” he yelled, frustrated at the interruption.
“I need to speak to you, Sir.”
“Can’t it wait? It took me fifteen minutes to get into this position!” Timothy didn’t bother to move.
“Well, no, Sir, it can’t.”
He pulled himself up, feeling lightheaded from being upside down. Once he slipped over the edge, he saw the Ship Captain standing there smiling.
“Oh,” was all Timothy could muster as Dilliney shook his head.
The Captain’s smile disappeared as he said, “We are in the Lucious system, and there’s some bad news.”
“I see,” Timothy said. “Give me a moment.”
He turned to Dilliney and said, “Back on Earth, the small killer drones have powerful lasers and masers, but the drones themselves are only about the size of a dinner plate. To stay cool, they contain a small canister of liquefied nitrogen, which is released into the interior as a intensely cold gas. It’s extremely effective at keeping the laser cool as it fires. Once the laser is done, a small pump compresses the gas once again. The system is very simple and very rugged.”
Dilliney listened, and when the ramification of what he heard sunk in, his jaw dropped. “But that means...why hasn’t anyone thought of this before?” he said to himself. He looked at Timothy and said, “Who are you?”
Captain Tiberius Emerfield turned to Dilliney and said, “Don’t you know? He’s our World Leader,” and for a second time in less than a minute, his jaw dropped again.
Timothy and Ruth were now in the Captain’s room, waiting to hear what the bad news was. The Captain turned on the viewscreen, and Timothy could see a 3 dimensional planet slowly spinning, with the header Lucious Prime above it. Also displayed was a red triangle around a still invisible ship with the words “FREIGHTER C3” and a seven smaller triangles surrounding it.
“What you’re seeing is an alien class three freighter, the biggest they have in their class, and seven alien fighters guarding it. The freighter is used to carry scavenged or stolen material, and seems to be the last one leaving. You know what this means?”
“That we’re too late?” Ruth answered.
“Exactly. They came, wiped everything out and are now leaving. They probably did this in a period of two months, if they had no resistance. We’re too late,” he said with an angry look.
Timothy asked that a packet be sent to the council with the data feed and the captain’s conclusion, and within a few minutes, they were notified that the council wanted open communication. The group arranged themselves around the table and the captain opened the comm.
“Ruth, Gentlemen. To begin with, thank you for your report. Captain Emerfield, are you close enough to do a bioscan?”
“Not yet. Once we take care of the enemy fighters we’ll take a closer look,” he replied.
“Are they aware of your presence?”
“No. Their freighter and fighters can’t scan this far.”
“Then the council has agreed that under no circumstances are you to engage the enemy here. Please take Timothy and Ruth to their next planet, Gliese 876-3. That is all.”
The viewscreen went dark, and Captain Emerfield sat there unmoving. Timothy was about to say something to the captain but changed his mind when he saw the very angry Tiberius, crimson red creeping onto his face and the veins throbbing on his forehead.
Finally, the captain controlled his temper enough to say, “Mr. Timothy, before we proceed to your next destination, I have some trash I need to put out.”
“What about the council?” Ruth asked.
“Let me worry about them.”
The captain made his way to the bridge and simply said, “Combat Status.” He watched the display and knew that each of the eight ships there had jump capabilities, and he also knew that if any escaped, they would inform their superiors.
“Lieutenant,” Emerfield said to Lt. Evel
yn on Tactical, “…how close do you think we can get to the freighter if we jump in? Do you think we can get close enough for the shortest launching distance of a torpedo?”
“It’ll take me an hour to work out, but yeah. We’re not that far away and have good beacons here.”
“Do it. Comm to fighter captains Sanchez, Topico and Cheng Shu. Meet me in the tactical room immediately.”
It took only a few seconds for them to arrive. Sanchez was half naked and putting on her shirt, Topico was off duty and came in sleeping shorts and Cheng Shu had grimy coveralls on and grease all over his hands and face.
Emerfield didn’t look twice at them, expecting them to come immediately when called, no matter what state they were in. The bridge was accustomed to seeing this too, and Emerfield was happy to note that most didn’t react, although a few stole a quick glance at Sanchez’s breasts before she finished putting her shirt on. Emerfield would talk to them later.
“Please, sit down. I’m sure you all recognize what’s in front of you.”
They looked at the alien freighter and 7 fighters protecting her. “In one hour thirty minutes on my mark, we will jump in at minimum distance for torpedo activation. You and your wingmates will be at the designated coordinates, just outside of enemy range, and will attack and destroy the enemy fighters while we torpedo and destroy the freighter. Your coordinates are being uploaded now. Complete radio silence. We need this to be a surprise and positively no alien craft are to jump. Ready your timers…Mark! Good hunting and watch your six.”
He watched them go and knew they were disappointed. Three Captains, fifteen fighters total, against seven enemy. They hated those odds because bragging about kills would be laughable.
Emerfield, Timothy, Ruth and the bridge crew watched as the time counted down. At one hour Lieutenant Evelyn had been true to her word, the jump logistics completed. Emerfield had given it an extra half hour just to make sure, but he was happy to see that he needn’t have bothered.
Twenty minutes passed by in complete silence, and he was startled by Evelyn’s voice. “Sir, we have something on Tactical,” she said, worried.