by Chris Burton
* * * *
Jonathan Hoskins was troubled. Three Alpha Cruisers had gone missing in free space and had not been heard from, for over three weeks. The Rapier Group sent by Commander Jacques located an area where significant weapons fire had taken place and there was wreckage of at least two ships. They concluded all three were destroyed, together with the thousand or so crew who served aboard them. The biggest issue came from the forensic assessment at the scene, which showed clearly that the Alpha vessels had been engaged by the Kryl.
“So, are they now following us?”
“They could be. Perhaps we should try a barium sweep?”
“In what area? You know as well as I do that they could be a long way back. I am not sure what to do about this Jean-Luc.”
“Perhaps…at the very least we should send out JS Groups, with random Barium Sweeps. We may not pick up on anything, but we may get lucky?”
“Yes, make it so. Is the forensic evidence conclusive? Can we rule out the possibility that one or some of our ships survived?”
“Not a hundred percent. What are you suggesting?”
“We need to get a Patrol ship out there. How is the training going?”
“They have not even started yet. There is no way any of the crews are ready. Perhaps we should just send a cruiser?”
“No. Too many lives have been lost already. There must be an Ex PS Commander somewhere in this fleet. One of your trainees could act up as XO. Perhaps Jake Carter?”
“You seem keen to get him off the ship.”
“No, just don’t want to be seen to hold him back. I think we all recognize his potential and he knows the Kryl better than anyone.”
“I’ll make enquiries about those with relevant experience and yes, I agree Jake could be the perfect XO in this regard.”
“Go straight ahead with the arrangements, once you have located a suitable person. I want that Patrol ship out there quickly. This is top priority, Number One.”
* * * *
Two hours later, Jean-Luc Jacques was in the Ready Room. Jake Carter had just joined him.
“Hi Jake. Take a seat. I have some good news for you. We have a need to get a Patrol Ship out there quickly. By quick I mean departing tomorrow, to head back to our position two to three weeks ago. We have lost some cruisers and the suspicion is that the Kryl are involved.”
He paused as Jake shifted forward on his seat, clearly now showing considerable interest.
“Now, I can’t offer you the Patrol Command post obviously. You have not had the training. But I do want you to act up as XO on this mission. Apart from the CO and the Chief Engineer, all of the other crew would be inexperienced, including you…but this does look like a superb opportunity and one in which the idea and endorsement came from the CO.”
“What about the Earth mission?”
“It will go ahead after this mission—assuming you have acted in accordance with your executive role.”
“And my post here?”
“With bridge officer status, you are a valuable commodity. You look a little uncertain. Are you still keen to take a Patrol ship position?”
“Yes, of course, sir. It’s just a little faster than I was expecting. My bridge command training will not have benefited anyone…other than myself.”
“Oh, it will—in due course. Look Jake, I would grab this with both hands. To have your first executive post at your age, even if it is only a Patrol Ship, is good going.”
“I know, sir. I am grateful and happy to accept.”
* * * *
Eighteen hours later, Jake Carter boarded the Patrol Ship HR87 and met his new CO for the first time.
“Lieutenant Jake Carter, sir; reporting for duty.”
“At ease, Jake. This is a patrol ship and we go for a little softer command structure, at least between you and me. I’m Bill Chadwick and I have the honor of piloting this little boat.”
Jake was uncertain how to respond. He decided the best response was to find a balance between relaxed and formal.”Good to meet you, sir. I am looking forward to serving under your command. I presume you have a great deal of experience.”
“As I said…” Chadwick snapped his response back before resuming a more conciliatory tone.
“Let’s keep things informal. Yes, I commanded a few patrol vessels earlier in my career. All crew are on board and manifests have been signed over, so please prepare the ship for departure.”
“Er…yes, Bill.” Jake opted now for the informal. I need to familiarize myself with the ship, if I may, perhaps ten minutes.”
“Might have been pertinent for you to have arrived early, so we could have done this already. Get yourself organized and meet me on the bridge in half an hour. I will get us underway in the meantime.”
Jake was taken aback by the change of character. Chadwick had asked for the informal and yet, when it came down to it.
“No, that’s fine…Bill. I can join you on the bridge now.”
“Excellent. You are beginning to understand the way I work. When we are in the office, we will keep it more formal.” With that, he turned about and gestured Jake to follow him as he marched purposefully up the main ships corridor towards the bridge. As he entered the bridge, the four officers in attendance, stood to attention and saluted.
“At ease. I am Lieutenant William Chadwick, Patrol Ship CO; Lieutenant Jake Carter, here, is your XO. Please prepare the ship for departure and get me a fast window. Mister Carter, take a seat at the con and move us out as quickly as possible. Make the jump to light speed as soon as we are clear. I will be in my quarters.”
Jake hardly had time to respond before he was gone. After a quick familiarization of the controls and displays surrounding him, he gave the orders to pull out, following clearance from fleet. He set a heading for the coordinates provided by the Rapier Group and once in free space gave the command to jump to light speed. The Patrol Ships Stellar Drive growled into action. Jake had now taken them out as instructed, but it felt a bit more like his first command, rather than someone else’s.
Chapter Eleven
On Death Row
Death Row was what it felt like.
You heard the screams from other parts of the ship as fellow human beings lives were extinguished. Some quickly, others over time, but all in the name of providing sustenance to the Kryl. All along, in the back of your mind, was the feeling that soon it would be your turn.
These thoughts did not come from Dieter Muller. These were the ramblings of those that surrounded him. Dieter did not feel threatened; he was just waiting for the moment when the Kryl would release him.
Until now, those in this section of the ship were left alone. When they had been taken from the large chamber, having witnessed the departure of those who would lose their lives quickly, two hundred and fifty humans had been brought here. A fifty by fifty meter compound which housed sleeping, eating, and recreational facilities. They were brought before the Nesthar, a small and slightly rounded Kryl tasked with the well-being of his livestock. He had spoken to them all on that first day.
“I am your Nesthar. I believe you would liken me to a “farmer” on Earth. My task is to keep you alive and make you ready and healthy for consumption. You will all be here for a minimum of three weeks with the last of you still here after five or even seven weeks. We will feed you and provide you with comfort and recreation. You are free to roam around the confines of this compound. One day you will be taken from here and you will not return.”
Muller quickly sought to gain the confidence of the Nesthar and approached him on several occasions in the first week, before he felt bold enough to request a meeting.
* * * *
The meeting took place that day.
“I want to thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“I
would have done the same for any who asked.”
Muller tried not be put off and pursued his strategy.
“I wanted to let you know I am a wealthy and resourceful man on Earth and I can offer you a great many things, including money, wisdom and of course some things which we would dare not print on the menu.”
The Nesthar was quick to answer. His replies were polite, but well rehearsed.
“I have everything I need here aboard this ship. I have no need for either your wisdom or your money.”
“My knowledge, wit, and intellect is a valuable commodity—even to a Kryl. Keep me alive and I will keep you interested. Surely that has some worth.”
Again the Nesthar was quick to answer. “You credit me with an interest in your species, beyond my own work here. It is certainly true your people are complex and varied and the way you live your lives is of significance. You will die though, maybe later than others in this compound, but you will die.” The last word resonating around the small room, as if the Kryl had deliberately emphasized the word to antagonize his captive.
“If I were to live long enough; presumably there is the possibility that some of us will be released.”
“No. The numbers declared are still considerably less than required. I regret I must move on now. It was good to meet you Mister Muller”
And will you consider my offer?”
“I have many offers Mister Muller. As I say you will die but maybe later than others.”
* * * *
At first, Muller was disappointed by the Nesthar’s response. It had not been outright rejection, but he was still here and there was no promise of exemption. Within a few days, he had once again convinced himself that his freedom was inevitable.
He tried to keep himself to himself and spent his time thinking of new retail strategies, business processes and target acquisitions. Inevitably, within such a confined space, he was forced to interact with other members of the community and he spent much of his time with fellow German, Stefan Damsque. Stefan was a seventy-five year old city broker, who had made his money on the Allied Planet Federation commodity markets. He was wealthy, but had no family and already resigned himself to his fate. Muller though tried to reflect his optimism on Stefan and their discussions on matters of state, politics and the arts helped them both to keep going and to stimulate their minds.
Today, all that was to change.
After breakfast of coffee, orange juice and croissants, the two friends sat down to engage in a discussion about Germanic heraldry. All seemed normal until an hour later, when the Nesthar entered the compound with five drones and set himself upon the raised platform at one end.
“Members of the community. Today, your numbers will start to reduce. Of the two hundred and fifty persons in this compound, you will be gone within ten days. You will be selected in batches of twenty-five on the basis of random selection. The numbers are automatically generated. When selected you will be taken to another chamber to allow you to collect your thoughts before your lives are extinguished. Everyone within this compound will be consumed quickly. I wish you all the best of luck in your next lives.”
He stood down to stunned silence. Nobody had expected that today was any different to any other. Yet now, they all had a maximum of ten days left to live.
Muller did not understand. Why had the Nesthar not come to him and told him he was excluded? He must be planning to, he convinced himself. But he did not like the idea of random selection. He looked at Stefan, who was suddenly a shadow of his former self. He had made a good friend here.
“You’re not still convinced that your freedom is just around the corner are you?”
Muller stuttered. It was becoming harder and harder to convince himself that all was okay…but he did not want anyone to see this. “Of course not, I will be freed soon, I am sure. The Nesthar will probably speak to me today. I am sure too that we will have a good few days to enjoy each others company, before you are taken from me.”
Stefan looked at Muller, with tears in his eyes.”It is time for a reality check my good friend. I have very much enjoyed our exchanges and I cannot think of a better way for my life to come to an end, having engaged in the wonderful conversations that we have had. But it will all come to an end soon, maybe even today…as it will for you Dieter. The promise of freedom will never come.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Stefan’s prediction became reality and tears of sadness became tears of horror as it dawned on both men, that Stefan’s number had been selected. The silence continued as Stefan took Muller’s hands in his and smiled. No words were exchanged. This friendship would last forever.
Two drone guards approached them and Stefan smiled again and nodded his head as he allowed the drones to escort him to the edge of the compound and out through the exit.
Muller’s hands started to shake. He was angry now. Why had his friend been taken from him and where was his freedom. He started to march towards the Nesthar’s facility, but was blocked by a drone guard. It seemed the goodwill and niceties had gone.
“I want to speak to the Nesthar.”
The drone said nothing and pushed Muller back toward the compound.
“That one will say nothing. He has no knowledge of our language.” It was Philip Dubois; a man with whom he had exchanged several conversations during their incarceration.
“The Nesthar has gone. I spoke to him yesterday and he told me our time was coming and that his job was done. I know you were seeking freedom, but the truth is, it was never going to happen. Take your time Dieter. You need to recognize the obvious and prepare for it; just as everyone else is. It matters not particularly whether it happens today, tomorrow or in ten days. The finite reality is that your life and mine and the lives of all that surround us, will very shortly come to an end.”
Chapter Twelve
Roslyn’s Sanctuary
President Roslyn’s Lugano villa had become very much a retreat in recent months. It had also played an important part in discussions between the ECG and Alpha and it was for this reason that Roslyn had piloted his shuttle personally to his lake side villa, earlier this morning. No one other than his intended visitor and himself were aware he was here and they needed to keep it that way.
At 16.30 hours, just as agreed a motor launch arrived at the villa’s boat house and was expertly maneuvered under cover and out of sight. One person adorning a dark hooded cloak, exited from the boat and headed up the slope towards the large green that fronted the Mediterranean style villa. The hooded figure was careful to keep under cover of the trees, while he approached.
Tom Roslyn was keen to maintain the secrecy and he joined the visitor at the edge of the green, still under cover of trees and led him via a series of arched pagoda to the safety of the villa. He then secured the doors and ran a security scan before opening his discussions with his visitor.
“Admiral Clarke. Thank you for being so prompt. I believe you can remove your cloak now.
“Thank you Mister President.”
“How are Admiral Koenig and the rest of your staff?”
“All good. It’s a bit claustrophobic down there, but we have everything we need.”
“Good. Okay, let’s get down to business. How are the fleet preparations?”
“The ships that left after the agreement was signed will be about half-way to the Styros Cluster by now. They should be preparing to send the first group of Patrol Ships back, within a few weeks and we plan to leave them some good Intel.”
“But no definitive solution yet. We have not yet found a way to destroy the Kryl?”
“Yes and no. Our scientists have determined there is a substantial flaw in the Kryl DNA. We have not found a way to exploit it…but we will.”
“What do they mean by “flaw”?”
“You will forgive my less than te
chnical explanation. We know many of the Kryl bodies we have examined are disease ridden, specifically a form of lymphatic cancer. Something like eighty percent of them are affected. The question is what is triggering the cancer? Which brings me back to the DNA flaw. Apparently their bodies produce pre-cancerous cells as standard and not if a certain set of circumstances trigger it.”
“Seems to me, you have the technical side of things spot on. So, are they all going to die? If this is generic, that implies this has been going on for generations. How do they stop the population from dying out?”
“Well, the answer to that is closer than you think…electrical stimuli from the right source. They cannot, for example, just go and plug themselves in to the nearest circuit…they need some kind of catalyst to link the electrical impulses from the source to the cells.”
“Is that source us? Oh, my God. We are providing a medical resource without which they would all die.”
“Not exactly. This provides relief, but it is not a cure. Our scientists suggest that the electrical stimulus provided by us merely delays the onset of the advanced stages of the disease. I am guessing that in advanced stages, it also provides relief.”
“Seems like we have come quite a long way. How do we link this to form a weapon?”
“There lies the problem—finding a way to take advantage of this. Our scientists are on this and when they have something we will let you know.