Starweb

by Warren James Palmer

  'You got it in a nutshell,' the scientist agreed. 'Not only does it save us from spreading our resources too thin, it gives the Heligsion survivors and the colonists from Earth and Dyason the chance to sleep a bit easier at night.'

  Moss was about to ask another question of his old friend when a familiar presence gently entered his mind.

  'Moss, I think you'd better get back here,' the presence told him.

  'Jennifer? Has it started?' he thought back at his young wife.

  '…Umm…yes…the good doctor has moved me to the medilab. I'm fine, but if you want to see our child enter the universe you'd better hurry!'

  'Hang on…I'm on my way!' Moss thought back, unable to conceal his excitement. 'Josh, I've got to run!' he blurted, suddenly completely flustered. 'Thanks for showing me round. It was a bit short I know but…'

  Brabazon watched the young officer's back as he rushed from the ground station toward the waiting shuttle. He couldn't help but smile, it was the first time he'd seen Moss in such a state.

  'Think nothing of it!' he called after him. 'Send my love to Jennifer and don't forget to let me know if it's a boy or a girl!'

  Moss waved once in acknowledgment and disappeared through the entrance. Brabazon smiled to himself and shook his head. A new member of the Pendragon clan was about to enter the universe—what an occasion! God help anyone who got in the way of that particular family!

  'Heh Peters, why don't you just hit the bloody thing with a mallet!' he shouted, returning to his work. 'It'd be just as effective as what you're trying to do, you moron!'

  The infant entered the world, filled its tiny lungs with air and bellowed with all its might. The nurse carefully cut the umbilical cord, wiped away the excess amniotic fluid and passed the newborn child to its mother. Exhausted, sweating, but radiant, Jennifer gratefully accepted the little bundle and instinctively hugged the infant to her breast, immediately establishing the all-important bond between mother and child.

  Doc Paterson wiped his hands on a sterile towel and beamed. 'Congratulations Jennifer, Moss. You're the proud parents of a perfectly healthy baby boy!' he announced joyfully.

  The young man looked at the mother and child with a look of complete awe. He'd managed to get back to Excalibur just in time to see his son enter the universe and was still dressed in his flying suit, albeit after a rapid sterilizing sonic shower. Breathlessly, he'd dashed into the medilab and had held the hand of the young woman who had given him a reason for living. Now he had even more reason to be alive. Both Jennifer's and his own family had been killed during the Dyason occupation. Except for Myrddin, who in reality was related by an ancient bloodline alone, they had no relatives. The ship and its crew had been their surrogate family, but not any more. Now they had a child of their own; they were a family, and nothing and nobody was going to separate them. As Moss reached out to touch his son for the first time, he made that oath.

  Jennifer looked up at him and smiled radiantly. 'Say hello to your son Moss,' she whispered.

  'Hi,' he murmured at the red-faced newborn, not really knowing what else to say. For the first time in a very long time, he felt like a tongue-tied teenager. What do you say to your son moments after his birth?

  'Why say anything,' came the comforting though into his mind. 'Why not simply extend your love mentally?'

  Moss cursed himself. Of course Jennifer was right; their infant was the child of two natural telepaths. As the talent was proven to be passed on genetically, their son would be a telepath also.

  'Of course,' he thought back, 'how could I have been so foolish?'

  'You're excused under the circumstances,' she responded, 'Now, redirect your thoughts to our son.'

  Moss did as he was bidden and gently probed the mind of the newborn. The result both astounded and awed him more than the birth itself. As he projected warmth and love, he was rewarded by the tendrils of the tiny mind reaching out to embrace him. The infant mind was filled with wonder at the universe it had entered. This was combined with an instinctive need for food and warmth. The child's innocent, virginal mind was awash with the mass of new sensations, which swamped its newly activated senses.

  Despite that, Moss was rewarded with love; the beginning of a parental bond. This pure, untainted love was aimed at both the mother who held him securely to her bosom and the towering figure of strength and security, which was the father. Moss was almost overwhelmed by the strength of feeling that raised from the very depths of his soul.

  'I love you both to the core of my very being,' he thought at his son and wife. 'I swear now to protect you both to the very end. Nothing and no-one will come between us!'

  'I know Moss,' Jennifer said vocally, reaching out for his hand as tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. 'I know…'

  CHAPTER TWO

  Miyako, Japan, Earth.

  The Bell executive multi-rotor touched down on the cleared helipad and the sole passenger jumped out with an agility which belied his apparent age. Wearing faded denims and a pair of worn, but stout boots, the white-haired man grabbed a holdall out of the multi-rotor's interior. Then, bending low to avoid the rotor blades, he jogged clear of the machine.

  Agent Delaware stepped forward and offered to carry the luggage for the leather-faced older man. She was rewarded with an easy grin and the comment, 'I'm not an invalid yet, but I appreciate the gesture.' Delaware blushed and withdrew her hand.

  'You must be Agent Delaware from Masorak,' Myrddin stated, giving the sandy haired and trim figured young woman a steely stare.

  'That's right sir,' the agent answered falling into step as the legendary ancient marched toward the cluster of temporary buildings. 'I've been assigned as your assistant during these investigations.'

  Myrddin stopped abruptly and turned to stare at the agent once more. In her early-thirties, the Masorak agent wore an immaculate pair of fatigues and a pair of polished combat boots. With her hair tied back in a business-like fashion, she was handsome rather than pretty. She was also typical of the agents graduating from the schools of the new secret service; set up after the first encounter with the Starweb—somewhat cold, but efficient.

  Senior members of the TWDF had been so impressed with the operating procedures of the Dyason intelligence service; the original Masorak, it had been decided to adopt them for the newly formed Three Planetary Alliance. The new intelligence service was comprised of the best agents from the three races and was dedicated entirely to the pursuit of information about the Starweb.

  'You've been assigned, have you?' Myrddin asked sardonically. 'We'll see about that. They know I always work alone.'

  Much to her annoyance, agent Delaware found herself flushing once more. She'd been briefed to expect a thorny reception from the ancient, but for some inexplicable reason, the old rogue still made her blush like a teenager.

  'It was a presidential order sir,' she stated, standing her ground. 'I didn't volunteer for this assignment.'

  'Is that so?' Myrddin countered raising an eyebrow. He smiled inwardly; the agent had spirit, perhaps there was hope for the young woman after all. 'Well, as you're here I guess you'd better make yourself useful. I need a cup of fresh, hot coffee, a walk around the remains of the power plant and a full briefing on everything you know about what happened here. '

  Agent Delaware considered a retort, but decided against it. Her professionalism took hold and firmly picking up Myrddin's holdall, she led the way.

  The sun was setting on the islands of Japan by the time Myrddin had completed his tour of the ruined point-zero power plant. The tour could have been done in a fraction of the time it actually took them, but the ancient had asked many apparently inconsequential questions, which agent Delaware had been hard-pressed to find answers to.

  'So they're going to start all over again and rebuild the plant?' he asked Delaware as he sat in one of the temporary offices, sipping from a hip flask of vintage scotch. He'd offered the Masorak agent a tipple, which she'd declined, but received regardless.r />
  'The Japanese government see this as more than just another power plant,' she told him from the other side of the requisitioned desk. 'It's a matter of national pride. This point-zero generating station was a symbol of their renewal, their increasing confidence since the end of the war.'

  'A confidence which has, no doubt, been badly dented by the sabotage,' Myrddin added thoughtfully, staring out of the window at the rubble of the power plant which was a flame red in the setting sun. 'The fact that a Buddhist monk blew himself up along with the cream of the engineers and the plant itself, must add considerably to the tension.'

  'There's been a big rise in the numbers practicing Buddhism since the end of the occupation,' Delaware agreed, following the ancient's train of thought. She too gazed out the window as the site lights came on, and the job of clearing the wreckage continued. 'This act could potentially drive great numbers away from the temples and divide the community.'

  'What did you find when you checked on the suicide bomber's background?'

  'Not a lot,' the agent replied with a shrug, 'His name was Kasheko Tagasaki, and a Buddhist from the local temple. He was thirty-eight years old and had been with the order since a child. There's no evidence of any religious or political extremism in his past. In fact, there's no obvious reason as to why he should have gone so dramatically off the rails.'

  'No doubt the same can be said for all the other victims and perpetrators,' he added.

  Myrddin shifted his gaze onto the face of the agent and watched her carefully. He knew he could probe her mind if he wanted, but a good trained Masorak agent would know if they were being scanned, particularly if they were telepaths like Delaware.

  'Tell me agent Delaware,' he asked her directly. 'Can you see a connection between all these recent incidents?'

  She turned her head and matched his gaze, a determined look upon her face. 'I have my own theory sir,' she told him. 'I should point out though, that it is my opinion alone.'

  The ancient lifted one pure white eyebrow and said, 'Really? Then, let's hear it agent.'

  'The common link is religion sir,' she stated.

  Myrddin looked at her carefully and considered her statement before responding, 'That may be true here, and at Palma cathedral, and with the sect in Peru; but what about the crash of the Airbus, the suicide of Caileen Fitzgerald and the deaths of several other industrialists and politicians? Where's the connection there?'

  'The captain of the Airbus was a practicing member of Triplanetary Church, as was Caileen Fitzgerald,' Delaware answered without hesitation.

  'I thought she was a good Irish Catholic girl?'

  'Until very recently she was,' the Masorak agent told him. 'Then a few weeks ago she met Bishop Dydnski.'

  'The Dyason preacher?' Myrddin asked in feigned surprise. 'I thought no one took him seriously?'

  'If they didn't before, they are now,' Delaware told him, throwing caution to the wind and finally reaching for his hip flask. 'His Triplanetary Church is attracting thousands of new followers every day, both here and on Dyason, where it all started. Only the Heligsion people seem to be immune to Dydnski's charms.'

  'That's probably because the few of them that survived the genocide are all completely loyal to the seer,' the ancient added. 'What about our friend Tagasaki? Had he been in contact with the good bishop?'

  'Tagasaki was a member of a Buddhist delegation who met Bishop Dydnski when he came to Tokyo a few weeks ago,' he was told.

  'Really? How interesting!' Myrddin said raising an eyebrow. 'So, what exactly does this Triplanetary Church preach?'

  'Nothing extreme. They believe all other religions on Earth, Dyason and Heligsion come from the same origin. They preach universal love, cultural harmony and reconciliation between the three humanoid races. It's a philosophy that's proved popular amongst the guilt ridden population of Dyason, and has spread here.'

  'Hmm…you're right, on the surface those beliefs are noble and innocent enough,' Myrddin mused still watching her face carefully. 'But you think this Bishop Dydnski may somehow be involved in this spate of incidents?'

  'It's a possibility.'

  'And the Starweb?'

  'It's too early to tell.'

  'Where's the leader of this Triplanetary Church now?' he demanded.

  'He's currently touring the Russian States. There's a stadium service in Moscow tomorrow night,' she answered, prepared for the question.

  'Then that's where we'll go next. I want to meet this Dyason Bishop for myself,' he told her. 'I've seen all I need to here, and as you've just pointed out, Triplanetary Church is our best lead.'

  Agent Delaware downed her tumbler of scotch, wincing slightly as it burned her throat. 'Sir, can I ask a question?' she asked hoarsely.

  'Shoot!' Myrddin agreed amiably.

  'You know everything I've told you already. So why ask?'

  'Just checking,' he answered with a sly grin. 'Just checking…'

  Colonial cruiser Shanoa,

  en-route to the new colonies on the planet Heligsion.

  The colonial cruiser Shanoa plied steadily through the sub-ether, her singularities warping space around her. Shaped like a vast wedge, beauty sacrificed for practicality, she carried over eight hundred Dyason colonists making for the planet Heligsion. Midway through her voyage, the Shanoa was due to arrive at their new home in a little over fourteen standard days.

  In the years since the Starweb had committed genocide against the people of that most gentle of worlds, the survivors had—with the help of the Three World Alliance, begun to rebuild their shattered culture. However, it became obvious to all, that a few hundred survivors weren't sufficient to recolonise an entire world and defend the planet from another Starweb attack. Therefore, after some initial resistance from the seer Dauphne, the Heligsion people opened the gates to their world.

  Unsurprisingly, the majority of those wanting to begin a new life on a new world came from Dyason. The people of that world had been crushed under a cruel military regime for years, and seen many of their loved ones die horribly in one environmental catastrophe after another. The civil war of five years ago had overthrown the Imperial dictatorship and the Point-Zero reaction—used against the invading crustaceans of the Starweb, had swept through the planet's atmosphere. Pollution was swept away in the instantaneous combustion (see Third Player. WJP), but so was everything else!

  Since then, the Dyason people had been working to rebuild their own world using cleaner, more efficient machinery and computer technology from Earth. The cloning and accelerated growth techniques perfected by Imperial Dyason scientists, were finally put to good use. Animals and plants made extinct by years of environmental abuse, were cloned and reintroduced on a massive scale. Dyason was evolving into a brave new world, but perhaps a little too brave for many.

  The insistence that all those who came to live on Heligsion had to accept an almost puritanical lifestyle, under the leadership of the seer Dauphne, was seen by many as another reason to go there. They'd had enough of heavy industry, and yearned for a return to a more simple life on the land. Which was why the Shanoa was full of colonists who came from all walks of Dyason life.

  Brother Dakol of the order of Ishcmall, stood at the viewing port in the main lounge, watching the sub-ether of space flash past the ship. In contrast to normal space, sub-ether was full of light and colour. It was as if the Shanoa were moving through a viscous fluid that moved and swam with all the colours of the rainbow. It was a fantastic sight that never failed to awe and inspire him.

  Unlike the rest of the passengers on board, brother Dakol wasn't intending to begin a new life on Heligsion. His destiny had been ordained long ago, when the planet Dyason was still run by feudal lords overseeing small kingdoms of only a few square kilometres. No, his purpose for being onboard was twofold.

  Firstly, he was acting as spiritual adviser to the colonists, as they mentally prepared themselves for what lay ahead. Indeed, even he had been surprised at just how many families
and individuals had approached him for advice, both spiritual and practical.

  The people of Dyason had always been very spiritual at heart. The persecution and suppression of the church by the old Imperial Junta, had forced religion into the shadows. But now with the new democracy, and the subsequent explosion of self-expression, the church was emerging into the light. It was just a damn shame that it was the newly formed Triplanetary Church, which souls were flocking to.

  Which of course, was the second reason for his visit to the world of Heligsion. The order of Ishcmall realised there was a common theme to all religions. Basically, all the humanoid races held the same beliefs; only the details varied. Which was why diplomatic relations with the heads of the various Earth and Heligsion churches had been initiated as soon after the wars as possible. Now, brother Dakol was on his way to visit the Heligsion seer Dauphne and the main agenda of their meeting was the Triplanetary Church.

  His peaceful reflection of the universe speeding past the viewing port was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the ship's warning klaxon.

  'This is a condition yellow alert…a condition yellow alert,' the ship's computer announced. A yellow strobe flashed in the centre of the observation lounge and colonists looked around in alarm.

  'Security personnel to the port engine room!' the ship's address system called out. 'I repeat, security personnel to the port engine room!'

  Brother Dakol recognised the voice of the Terran second-in-command, Angelina de Gaccia. He could hear the strained tones, which were evident despite her trained professionalism. Concerned and alarmed, he decided to make his way to the duty station he'd been assigned to, but was stopped by another message on the address system.

  'Passenger brother Dakol, also to the port engine room,' came the announcement. 'Passenger brother Dakol of the Ishcmall order to make his way to the port engine room immediately.'