Awakening Threat

by Patrick G Cox

  Harry Heron: Awakening Threat

  Copyright © 2019 Patrick G. Cox

  Harry Heron: Awakening Threat is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons living or dead is coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the publisher or the author except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews.

  Paperback ISBN: 9781946824660

  Hardback ISBN: 9781946824677

  Ebook ISBN: 9781946824684

  Library of Congress number:2019920209

  Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Cox, Patrick G., author.

  Title: Harry Heron awakening threat / Patrick G. Cox.

  Description: [Daytona Beach, FL] : IndieGo Publishing, 2020. | Summary: Harry Heron and Ferghal O’Connor lead their fleet of space corvettes in the battle against the awakening threat of the Niburu using technology shared with them by the Siddhiche.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019920209 | ISBN 9781946824660 (pbk.) | ISBN 9781946824677 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781946824684 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Life on other planets -- Fiction. | Space flight -- Fiction. | Space warfare – Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Space Opera. | FICTION / Science Fiction / Military. | FICTION / Science Fiction / Alien Contact.

  Classification: LCC PR6103.O9 H377 2020 (print) | PR6103.O9 (ebook) | DDC 823 C69--dc22

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 – Portents

  Chapter 2 – Traces

  Chapter 3 – First Contact

  Chapter 4 – Discovery

  Chapter 5 – Stalker

  Chapter 6 – Brush with the Unknown

  Chapter 7 – Friend or Foe

  Chapter 8 – The Missing Life

  Chapter 9 – Revelations

  Chapter 10 – Confrontation

  Chapter 11 – Siddhiche

  Chapter 12 – Between Two Unknowns

  Chapter 13 – A Very Close Encounter

  Chapter 14 – Risky Endeavour

  Chapter 15 – Predator and Prey

  Chapter 16 – Breathing Space

  Chapter 17 – Face to Face with a Nightmare

  Chapter 18 – On the Brink

  Chapter 19 – Distress Call

  Chapter 20 – Search

  Chapter 21 – A Small Success

  Chapter 22 – Frustration

  Chapter 23 – The League Intervenes

  Chapter 24 – Transfer

  Chapter 25 – Command

  Chapter 26 – Flotilla in Action

  Chapter 27 – Reinforcement

  Chapter 28 – Celebrity Face-Off

  Chapter 29 – Special Assignment

  Chapter 30 – Evasion

  Chapter 31 – Pursuit

  Chapter 32 – Chink in the Armour

  Chapter 33 – Infection

  Chapter 34 – Collision of Cultures.

  Chapter 35 – Fallout

  Chapter 36 – No Place to Hide

  Chapter 37 – Return

  Chapter 38 – Breeding Groud

  Chapter 39 – Back to the Beginning

  Chapter 40 – The Last Niburu Queen

  Chapter 41 – The Final Throw

  Chapter 42 – Requiem for the Fallen

  Chapter 43 – Accusations and Accolades

  The Harry Heron Adventure Series

  Harry Heron: Midshipman’s Journey

  Harry Heron: Into the Unknown

  Harry Heron: No Quarter

  Harry Heron: Savage Fugitive

  Harry Heron: Awakening Threat

  Harry Heron: Hope Transcends

  OTHER BOOKS by PATRICK G. COX

  A Baltic Affair

  Limehouse Boys

  Magnus Patricius: The Remarkable Life of St Patrick the Man

  www.harryheron.com

  www.patrickgcox.com

  Chapter 1

  Portents

  Lieutenant Harry Nelson-Heron took his place in the conference room aboard the NECS Beagle, his demeanour quiet but assured. Just over six feet in height with blue eyes and an athletic build, he had light brown hair that tended toward red in sunlight. Technically, he was both too old and too young for his rank, a circumstance due to his military experience having begun at the age of twelve when he was warranted a Midshipman in the British Royal Navy in 1800. During a sea battle with the French in 1804, he and his shipmates Ferghal O’Connor and Daniel Gunn were transported through a time warp and landed aboard the NECS Vanguard in 2204. They quickly proved their skill, knowledge, and experience, and were rewarded with advanced education and promotions accordingly.

  His post on this ship was that of Chief Survey Officer. He was tasked with assembling maps of the systems they explored and the key planets and larger moons within them.

  Harry waited as his fellow officers and the science team took their seats and the conversation settled into respectful silence.

  “Thank you for being so prompt for this meeting,” he began. “I know we’re all very busy and have much to do. Let’s get right to it. We have a number of orphan planets and one dwarf star in the late stages of decay with several planets orbiting it.

  My team has sent surveyor drones to explore the nearest of the orphans, and I should have more information on its state and composition in two or three days.”

  The Executive Commander, Alexei Polen, nodded his agreement. “Sounds like an excellent plan. Thank you, Lieutenant Heron. You may take your seat.” He respected Harry and trusted his judgment. A man of medium height and slim build, Commander Polan enjoyed a little sport, particularly squash, and his commission on this ship afforded him the opportunity to play the sport in his leisure time.

  The head of the science team, a large man of middle age, addressed the Commander. “From a scientific point of view, Commander, the star and its planets should be investigated first. The star is of considerable interest to the astrophysicists here because it gives them a chance to test some of their models against the actual observation of this type of star.”

  An athletic woman who sat farther down the table interjected. “My team would like to examine the surviving planets. The star has collapsed into the final phase of decay. It will be useful to analyse the decaying reactions. If it is anything like the other systems we have investigated, the planetary cores will be all that survive of the planets. It’s unlikely that any life is still present, but there may be traces, and a study of the planets will be useful in any case.”

  Commander Polen nodded. “We can manage both without too much of a problem.” He directed his next question to Harry. “Mr. Heron, can Navigation plot a trajectory that will allow the collection of data from the targets the team needs?” A career officer in his late thirties, his role as Executive Officer meant that he had to referee the conflicts of interest between the scientists and the ship’s orders. It seemed the two were never in agreement.

  Harry nodded. “I do not see a problem, sir.” He hesitated, listening to the ship’s AI in his head as it confirmed his unspoken question. A neural implant to help him gain the knowledge he needed to serve as an officer in the twenty-third century, combined with an illegal gene splice he’d been given while imprisoned in a rogue research facility a few years prior, made it possible for him to interact with any AI that he was linked to. This also made him a target for those who wanted to exploit his unique ability.

  “The Beagle confirms my thoughts, sir,” said Harry. “The ship is preparing a set of choices for us.”

  Polen nodded. “Very good. Yes, that will be very useful.” His gaze swept the table. Apart from the human contingent, there were two aliens present, Sci’antha and Regidur. Sci’antha was a Lacertian—a Saurian whose people had been enslaved
by the Consortium and freed by the Fleet, specifically by Harry and Ferghal’s quick thinking and bravery in a near-fatal incident followed by a heroic rescue operation. The Lacertians had a deceptively delicate appearance, but they moved like lightning and had incredible strength. They also possessed the ability to fade into the background, becoming almost invisible. Fearsome in appearance, they were generally very efficient and mild-mannered, but in battle, utterly ruthless.

  Regidur was a large Canid. Standing seven to eight feet in height, the Canids had a disconcertingly canine head and face, but otherwise appeared human. They were highly intelligent, very adaptable, and extremely advanced technologically.

  Both aliens had other members of their race among the crew, but these two were never far from Harry. The Commander had heard that Lieutenant Ferghal O’Connor also had Lacertian and Canid companions. This provoked some comment among other Fleet officers, but especially among sympathisers of the League for the Protection of Sentient Life, or LPSL, who were convinced that the mutual relationship of respect between Harry and Ferghal and their alien companions was more like that of owner and pet, a ridiculous notion to be sure.

  Polen let his attention wander while a few scientists and officers debated an unimportant point, then he pulled his thoughts back to the agenda when he’d had enough.

  “Right, then, I think we can table some of these discussions for another time. Lieutenant Heron, can you transfer the ship’s data to everyone’s tablets, please?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll do it now,” Harry replied.

  Commander Polen glanced round the table. “Anything else?”

  He groaned inwardly as a hand shot up near the middle of the table. Dr. Palmer was head of the alien cultures team and a member of the League for the Protection of Sentient Life. Suave, handsome, and vain, the doctor considered himself of superior intelligence to any mere Fleet officer, which irritated everyone. That he was the acknowledged expert in the art of deciphering alien glyphs and inscriptions, and therefore a key member of the scientific team, only made it worse. In the Commander’s opinion, the doctor was also a self-opinionated bigot, but he kept that to himself.

  “Yes, Doctor Palmer?” Polen acknowledged in a droll tone. He noted the way in which the two aliens fixed their gaze on the doctor. They tolerated him, just, and it showed. They seemed to have no problem with most of the other scientists, which made their attitude toward Palmer and his team even more obvious.

  Palmer leaned back in his chair and literally struck a pose, his legs stretched out languidly, crowding the personal space of the women seated on either side of him. Their discomfort was obvious. He was either unaware, or he didn’t care. “It seems unlikely that we will encounter any sentient beings in this system, but one never knows. I’m sure that we would not wish to repeat the mistakes made on Seraphis or Lycania.” His patronising smile directed at the Lacertian and the Canid was so insincere that it was nauseating. “I feel that I must remind everyone of the importance of not introducing any alien cultures we encounter to technology or ideas that they might not have developed on their own. It is vital to keep their culture pure and untainted from our interference.” He nodded pointedly in Harry’s direction, ignoring the wooden expression and angry flush in the Lieutenant’s face. “We must avoid at all cost the sort of situation Lieutenant Heron precipitated on Lycania.”

  A growl from Regidur, the large Canid seated to Harry’s left, swung everyone’s attention away from the doctor. “You still persist in your claim that we are backward, uncultured, and without technology?”

  The doctor leaned forward, rested his arms on the table, and spread his hands in a placatory gesture. “Of course you had technology. I am certainly not trying to cast aspersions on your culture. That is precisely what we want to preserve. But everyone knows that you had no weapons until the Lieutenant taught you how to make explosives, and we all know how that went….”

  He was cut off by the angry, snarling response from the Canid. “Fool! We had weapons that were far more powerful than you or your supporters can understand. They were intended for hunting, but when we were attacked, we had to adapt them—”

  “Gentlemen!” The Commander rapped the table. “I think you both have made your points adequately about this issue. Doctor Palmer, we will take the LPSL Protocol into account, but please remember that it is not law and does not address situations such as that which Mr. Heron encountered on Lycania.” He glanced down when he heard a chirp from his tablet. “Good. I see that Mr. Heron’s proposals are now available. Perhaps you’d all like to take some time to consider them and send any suggested modifications or additional requests directly to me.”

  The assembled scientists glanced at the extensive list, some scrolling through the displays, avoiding any show of support for the Alien Cultures team. A murmur of ascent confirmed their agreement.

  “Good. I’ll alert you when we are in position to begin the initial scan. Mr. Heron and his survey team will have the observation dome and the astronomical observatory instrumentation active for the astro teams, and all the scanner arrays will be active for everyone else. Thank you, everyone.” Commander Polen stood. “Mr. Heron, Regidur, Sci’antha, I’d appreciate your joining me in my office.”

  “Sit down, please.” The Commander waved his visitors to the seats in his small conference room and waited until they were settled. “Well done controlling your temper there, Harry. Palmer is enough to try the patience of a saint, and I’m certainly not one. Regidur, Doctor Palmer is an example of a human weakness. Once an idea or concept has taken root in his mind, he and those like him will never see any other argument.” He met the large Canid’s gaze. “If your people don’t have similar types, you are fortunate—very fortunate.”

  The Canid growled a response, and Sci’antha, the Lacertian navigator, gave her strange hissing laugh.

  In her sibilant way of speaking, she said, “Your race seems to have many like him. Perhaps it is because they do not like to think that other species may be equally intelligent and able.”

  Harry laughed and the Commander grinned. “Unfortunately, Sci’antha, you are probably right.” He lifted his tablet. “Now, Mr. Heron, the reason I asked you to join me is that I am concerned by this report you posted. Can you explain what you mean by your statement that there have been a number of fleeting contacts with a very large body that behaves as if it is following us?”

  “Aye, sir.” Harry paused as he inwardly instructed the ship’s AI to open a display. As the hologram appeared, he indicated an area. “If you will examine the lower quadrant, sir, you will see a brief obscuration of a small and rather dim star cluster. There!” He asked the AI to freeze the image. “The star cluster designated ENGC 98 dash 2204 on our charts has vanished.” He paused as he instructed the network to advance the clip again. “There it reappears. If it were only this single event, I would not have reported it, sir, but Sci’antha has recorded several more such occlusions, and Regidur has observed other similar events.”

  The Commander leaned back, studying the screen, his lips pursed in thought. “Can you replay it please, Harry? Slowly, so I can see it as it happens.”

  “Certainly, sir.” In his thoughts, Harry spoke to the ship. Beagle, replay this segment of our recording, please, but at one tenth the actual speed.

  As the clip replayed, the Commander was able to see something pass in front of the star cluster as if moving on a parallel trajectory to the Beagle. He breathed out slowly. “You have several more examples of this?”

  “Yes, sir. We have been monitoring it for two days, and this clip is from this morning’s recording.”

  “What’s your assessment? Any idea of distance?”

  “Yes, sir. Though we cannot see it on any of our direct systems, we are able to gauge that it is following at a distance of around point two five astronomic units.”

  The Commander whistled. “If that is correct, that thing must be huge!”

  “By calculation, Commander, it is alm
ost one thousand kilometres in diameter.” The Lacertian bowed her head toward Harry and said, “Lieutenant Heron has confirmed our calculations.”

  The Commander’s frown deepened. “So, we’ve an unknown object trailing us with unknown intentions. Is it making any sort of signal? What about emissions?”

  The big Canid tapped the tablet in front of him with one surprisingly delicate clawed finger. “It is not making signals, but it receives them. The propulsion is unknown. The emissions are not detectable by our equipment.”

  “We’ve tried to get a lock on them with the optical telescope,” said Harry. “I thought that we might be able to do the same thing I did with the Siddhiche ships when I was on the Vanguard, but this is something very different. It seems to bend the light in some way. Only when it passes directly in front of something emitting light can we see it.”

  “We may have a problem then. I don’t like things that I can’t identify, and I know the Captain hates them. I want it monitored day and night. If it moves toward us, we scream for help and get out of here.” The Commander leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Who else knows about this?”

  “Several of the Rates do, sir, and those who operate the scans in our team, including the astrophysicist, Doctor Sebastian Knop.”

  “Damn. Make sure the Rates understand that they are to speak to no one about it. I’ll have a word with Doctor Knop myself.” The Commander chewed his lip. “The ship’s stuffed full of damned scientists, and they all have their own special interests and agendas. Half of them don’t like the other half, or they don’t see how someone else’s work fits theirs, and all of them want first priority on everything. And then there’s Doctor Palmer and his little clique. If he gets wind of this, you can be sure the LPSL will get involved, along with the politicians back home and the damned press, and then we’re in the soup, big time. And we still won’t know what or who is following us.” He stood up, and the others stood as well. “I’ll have to inform the Captain,” he added. “Keep me up to date.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”