Black knew however, that this fact alone wasn't the sole cause for the sombre mood onboard Excalibur, the ship and her crew had faced overwhelming odds many times before and always triumphed. The other factor was the role Excalibur was playing in the Terran Home Fleet. The sad fact was, the ancient starship, the vessel that had left the world of Samarcia millennia ago and seeded Earth with Homo Sapiens, was no longer the best warship available.
In the years since the discovery of the Samarcian vessel in vast underground caverns built far below Stonehenge, scientists from all the three worlds had been examining and refining the wealth of new technology found on board the ship. Inevitably, the discovery accelerated technological development by hundreds of years, leading to the design and construction of new ships. Bigger, faster, more heavily armed, armoured, and equipped with the latest bio-electronic core computers, the new dreadnoughts and cruisers outclassed Excalibur.
Which was why the sleek swan-like ship was now relegated to escorting duties. Black had argued that Excalibur and her sister ships Dominator and Valvia were the only ships of the fleet equipped with sentient computers, which of course, made them far more flexible than the newer battleships. But the high command weren't convinced that AI computers were a help and not a hindrance, and their status remained downgraded. Black himself was offered the command of the fleet's newest flagship 'Invincible', but he turned the post down. He knew his place was on the bridge of the ship which had become his home. The crew of Excalibur would bravely face improbable odds once more, but if ever there was a time when Excalibur needed Moss, Jenson and Sandpiper onboard it was now…. Black missed their presence sorely, as did the rest of the crew and Excalibur herself.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Statue of Liberty, New York Harbour, New York,
USA, Earth. 01.50hrs, August 15th 2057.
Starlight glittered off the composite hull and superstructure of the coast-guard vessel as it gently pulled up to the jetty. A crew member leapt off the deck to secure the bow and stern hawsers and the powerful twin water-turbines were cut to idle. Two more crew attached a gangplank leading from the cruiser to the quay then waited patiently for their passengers to disembark.
Bishop Dydnski stepped onto the deck, took a lung full of the warm salt air, then stepped down onto the jetty. There he paused and looked up at the infamous historical monument in admiration. Thanks to a power-cut throughout New York State, the Statue of Liberty was illuminated solely by the moon and stars; but still, it was a beautiful sight. The flame of liberty held aloft in one outstretched arm seemed to be pointed directly at the stars in a gesture of defiance, the irony of which made him smile.
'I don't understand the necessity of this,' a sombre Miss Smith declared from the top of the gangplank. 'You've gone to all the trouble of arranging a state-wide power failure, riots and looting in the city, then you infected the minds of these crewmen, for what? Just a lot of unnecessary theatrics!'
'That's because you refuse to think like a human my dear,' the giant flame-haired Dyason replied. 'If you did, you would be able to appreciate the beauty of my scheme.'
He turned to look at the agent provocateur and in a grandiose gesture swept an arm toward the towering Statue of Liberty.
'Imagine,' he continued, 'what will soon take place... As the Starweb fleet battles its way toward Earth, devouring the human vessels in the process, the people of this sad world will be busy tearing at each other's throats, the last vestiges of civilized behaviour swept away!'
'That will all happen regardless of what you're doing here Dydnski,' Smith told the leader of Triplanetary Church. 'What does this achieve? What will we gain?'
'We will gain, my cold but beautiful creature, the finale our efforts deserve. Don't you realise this is the final show? After this there will be no more. Our job here will be done. Don't we deserve to go out with a bang? Don't we owe it to ourselves to ensure the final scene is as spectacular as possible?' he answered dramatically. 'Surely even you have some feelings, some regret, that our little adventure is drawing to a close?'
The agent provocateur walked down the gangplank and onto the jetty. She stepped passed Dydnski and stood where she could watch the bulky object strapped to the cruiser's deck being lowered by a hydraulic arm onto the quayside.
'It may surprise you to know that I am not entirely without feelings,' she said standing with her back to the giant church leader, avoiding his gaze. 'Occupying this body and spending so much time on this world, hasn't left me completely cold.'
'I'm glad to hear it.'
'But what you or I feel is irrelevant,' she continued, ignoring his comment. 'We serve a greater purpose and the cosmic scheme takes precedence above our own wants or needs!'
'Yes, yes, yes…so you keep telling me,' Dydnski muttered with a sigh. 'But what if we can combine duty and pleasure? So long as we complete our tasks, does it matter about the details?'
Smith ignored his question, her gaze was fixed upon the object now sitting on the quayside. About the size of a small family car, it was shaped like a twentieth century iron bomb complete with large fins on its tail. There was something familiar and very ominous about the object. She scanned her memories and tried to remember where she had seen the thing before. After a few moments, the memory came into focus and she turned toward Dydnski in surprise.
'Fat Boy?' she exclaimed. 'You've designed the device in the shape of the first atomic bomb? Why?'
The leader of Triplanetary Church shrugged expansively and said, 'Why not? Consider the importance of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima in the psyche of the Terran people. Can't you see the irony in using a similar shaped device to end the world?'
'You're sick…'
'No more than those who created me…’ he retorted with a manic gin, then threw his arms into the air and shouted. 'In a few hours it will all be over! Oh the irony of it! The justice, the beauty! Here at the most famous symbol of Terran liberty we will end the world with the symbol of devastation! Boom! BOOM! Hah, hah, hah…!'
Myrddin's eyes flickered open and he gazed up at the nurse standing above him. She was young, in her early twenties and a South American beauty. Her dark brown eyes peered into his own and he managed a thin smile. Her response was one of surprise and she immediately turned and called out to a doctor nearby in Spanish.
'Doctor, the patient has regained consciousness! Doctor!'
Myrddin experimentally moved his limbs, starting with his toes. They wiggled obligingly, so he decided to be a little more adventurous and move his arm. His hand reached out and pinched her firm buttocks. She squealed and jumped away in surprise; there was nothing wrong there either.
The ancient telepath took in his surroundings and realised he was in a hospital ward and had been since the debacle in the Aztec ruins. The memory of what happened there made him wince in mental anguish, but he found his soul gently massaged by another, more senior presence.
In a moment, the overall picture was clear in his mind. He knew what had to be done and why. Up until this moment, he had felt a pawn in a scheme not of his making. Ever since the appearance of Dydnski and that bitch Smith, he had felt as if he were merely reacting to situations rather than influencing them. It was a sensation he was unfamiliar and unhappy with. However, that was all in the past; it was time for chage... Now he felt rested and refreshed, with a sense of renewed purpose.
As the doctor dashed to his bedside and the nurse stepped carefully out of reach of his wondering hands, Myrddin decided it was time for him to be somewhere else. He gathered his will and mentally began to push at the boundaries of sub-ether space. There was a rush of air in the hospital ward, as if to fill a sudden vacuum. As the amazed doctor and nurse watched, the skin of the legendary ancient became translucent, and a field of stars became visible where only moments before were solid flesh and bones. The body of Myrddin slowly disappeared and the last thing the shocked young nurse saw was a broad and slow wink, then her patient was gone leaving nothing but an empty bed.
/>
Senator Jefferson, the North American representative of the United Nations, entered the New York senate chambers and after a brief search found his seat. It took him a while to find his place in the auditorium because this particular emergency session of the senate was taking place in the UN buildings in New York, rather than the post-war headquarters in New Zealand. Rebuilt after being levelled by an asteroid strike during the Dyason wars (see Minds of the Empire, WJP) the UN building was an exact copy of the twentieth century original and used primarily as a tourist and education site.
However, Jefferson wasn't surprised at being called to a senate meeting in the early hours of the morning. The current crisis made no allowances for various time zones. So having only had a few hours sleep on the plane, it was a tired and irritable senator who finally found his place.
Within minutes, the rest of the auditorium had filled up and with an expectant hush, the men and women who were responsible for the policy making on Earth awaited the start of the emergency session. Since the death of president Gafton, proceeds had been chaired by the vice president Baroness Lindsay, or defence secretary Yakov; so it was with some surprise that Jefferson watched a tall slim man approach the podium. The senator immediately recognised the aristocratic features of Lord Steel the head of North Atlantic Petroleum, and leader of a radical group of industrialists. But then, he could hardly not recognise the man's arrogant face; after all, the fool had made that ridiculous broadcast on every video channel on all three worlds. The question was, what the hell was he doing here?
Senator Jefferson looked to his neighbour, the representative for the Central American countries and raised a questioning eyebrow. His reply was an expansive shrug. Mutterings from around the auditorium were silenced by Steel's opening words.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' he began earnestly, 'I apologise for bringing you all here to this emergency session of the UN senate, especially at such an anti-social hour of the day. However, there are urgent matters that need to be discussed…'
'What sort of matters?' a fiery senator from the other side of the auditorium called out. 'You’re not a member of the UN. What right to you have to bring us all here? What is this nonsense?'
The English lord held up a placating hand and urged the woman to sit back down again.
'Please hear me out,' he asked in an ingratiating voice. 'I realise that this is all very unconventional, but extreme times call for extreme measures. Now, I have news that is of vital importance to the entire human race…'
The senator finally sat back down, and after a moment an expectant hush fell on the auditorium. Despite himself, Jefferson found himself wondering what sort of news the industrialist could have at such a time of crisis. He didn't like the guy one little bit, but anyone who had ideas on how to avoid the abyss the three worlds faced at present, was worth listening to.
'By now you will all be well aware of my feelings regarding the state Earth is in, and the war upon which we are about to embark,' Steel continued smoothly. 'I would be the first to admit that industrialists such as myself and the United Nations, have rarely seen eye to eye in recent years. However, my broadcast was watched by many, and was of interest to one group in particular.
'Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear that my thoughts on seeking a negotiated settlement with the members of the Starweb, struck a cord with the sentient computers which comprise that collective. I know this is the case, because only a few hours ago, a representative of the Starweb made itself known to me and offered a diplomatic solution to the current crisis!'
An excited buzz swept through the auditorium, but it was mixed with angry mutterings from certain members of the senate, just as Steel knew it would. Jefferson was amazed by the English Lord's statement and didn't believe it for an instant.
He stood up and called out, 'Who is this mysterious representative of the Starweb, Steel? Why hasn’t it made itself known to the rest of us? Do you really expect us to believe that these machines have approached you to sue for peace? The notion is ridiculous!'
Steel turned toward the shouting senator and with a cold smile, looked directly into his eyes and said, 'The reason they have never approached people like yourself senator Jefferson, is because they know they would receive just the sort of response that you have demonstrated to me now! The United Nations has never even looked for a peaceful, diplomatic solution before!'
'That's because the Starweb's only aim is genocide!' Jefferson retorted hotly, 'I would have thought that was bloody obvious even to a moron like you!'
'What are their terms?' another senator stood up and demanded. Jefferson snorted when he saw the Cuban representative. He always knew the woman was a yellow-bellied liberalist.
'I thank you for asking,' Steel replied smiling broadly at the woman who had obviously been primed to asked the question. 'Ladies and gentlemen of the senate, the members of the Starweb have offered to withdraw their fleet if we do the same. Further, if we agree to their representatives visiting our three worlds to show them that we are civilized people, and not the barbarians they have always thought us to be, then they will be willing to discuss a long-term peace!'
'What? Are you mad!' Jefferson yelled out, his face red for rage. 'That would be the equivalent of handing the planet to them on a plate! My God man! Don't you realise they just want us to do that so we can save them the effort of defeating our ships? Once they're here they'll slaughter us all!'
Steel looked directly at the senator for North America, his eyes cold and devoid of anything except for the lust for power. He ignored the angry shouts of other members of the senate and said in a voice dripping with malice, 'I'm sorry you feel that way senator Jefferson, I really am. You see, I promised their representative that we would open negotiations with the Starweb and I am a man of my word!'
Completely unintimidated, Jefferson pointed one finger at the industrialist and declared, 'You have no authority here Steel! You have no right to tell the UN what it should or should not do…'
There was a sharp crack, which reverberated through the auditorium and the sentence was never completed. The North American representative's eyes rolled to the top of his head and he collapsed back into his seat, a neat red hole in the centre of his forehead.
The auditorium become deadly quiet as the shocked senators took in what had just happened, and their eyes wandered to the young man in white robes who carried a snipers rifle with professional ease. Then they took in the other young men and women dressed in white robes, all carrying automatic assault rifles. Every exit was covered and there was no doubt that none of them would hesitate to open fire on any of the UN members.
'Now then,' Steel said in whisper which broke the deathly silence, 'does anybody else want to argue? Or are we all agreed that we should open negotiations with the representative of the Starweb?'
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Planet Samarcia, date unconfirmed.
Jenson and Sandpiper leant against the balcony and looked out from the gallery to the vast cavern beyond. The massive chamber, hewn out of the side of a mountain was so large, it was impossible to see to the far end, despite the area being well lit. However, it was not the sheer scale of the underground chamber, which held their attention; their gaze was fixed upon the three vast starships, which filled the interior.
Each vessel was several klicks in length from bow to stern and the composite material they were constructed from was such a dark black; it reflected almost no light. The main sections of the identical ships were delta in shape, with contoured fins and large intakes on the underside. Stub wings led to long slender necks and control pods, giving the three starships the appearance of being ergonomic, even swan-like.
The shape and detail of these vessels was well known to the pair of Terran adventures. After all, they'd been onboard each one many a time. It wasn't so much what they were, as where they were. The last thing Jenson and Sandpiper had expected to see was Excalibur, Dominator and Valvia gathered together on ancient Samarcia.
&n
bsp; Of course, they understood the technical explanation of how the seed-ships, which were to play such an important part in their own time-line, came to be buried under a mountain in Samarcia. However, understanding was very different to actually seeing the mammoth and legendary vessels lined up side-by-side.
After their rather smelly escape from the back streets of Ottawon in the back of a refuse truck, the mixed group of fugitives had spent the next eight days traveling surreptitiously around the planet. The garbage they had been hiding in was dumped; with them still hidden in it, onto a barge and floated out to sea. Once the coast was out of sight, a commercial fishing submarine collected the bedraggled group from the barge's hold and transported them to another continent in the northern hemisphere of Samarcia. Once back on dry land, the last stage of their journey was a fifteen hour trek in a sealed container on the back of a large lorry. Their final destination was a secret research and development centre in the massive Alrona mountain range.
Moss had spent much of the long and tedious journey in whispered consultation with Lollo Rosalio, the leader of the Eco-Terrorist group. Jenson figured their discussions had something to do with the seed-ships and the Starweb, so he'd not interfered. Moss would tell him what was going on when he was ready. Felke the news-web journalist, Jelde, and Dakol had each spent the journey lost in their own thoughts, albeit with the addition of wrist-restraints for the secret-service woman.
Which left the Dyason girl Canderal, Qbec the assistant journalist, and the two Terrans to while away the hours as best they could. It'd given the pair of veteran pilots the opportunity to question Qbec about life in the Samarcian commonwealth. It had also given time for the abused teenager and the young woman to build up a rapport which Jenson knew, would blossom into an inseparable friendship. It was something he'd done his best to nurture and been heartened to witness.
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