Gethsemane

by James Wittenbach

  There will be answers to your questions, here, but the answers can only be drawn from what you already know. You don’t know the truth about where the Gethsemanens are.”

  “So, what can you tell me?” Redfire asked.

  “You think you’re me, but you’re really not,” the Other Redfire said. “I was killed in the 12 255 Crux system, as was my wife.”

  “That’s right,” Halo chirped. “I was there.”

  The other Redfire grinned. “Would you like to know how I died?” Halo Jordan objected. “Oh, we don’t need to get into that old story.”

  “I don’t know how you died,” Redfire objected. “So, how can you tell me that?”

  “In your case, there is a certain dispensation,” Halo Jordan told him. “There are certain things we can tell you that you may not be aware of because of the connection you have with my husband.”

  “If he wants to know,” the Other Redfire added.

  “I do…” Redfire said. “But first, I’d like to know, if I’m not you, who am I really?” The Other Redfire leaned over and called to the kitchen. “Gabrielle, Can I get Adam and Eve on a raft, one shipwrecked, a bowl of birdseed for the wife, two coffees blonde and sweet.”

  “Anything else, Sug?” Gabrielle called back.

  Halo Jordan spoke up. “I’d like the eggs, Spam, Spam, ham, Spam, bacon and Spam, but without too much Spam.”

  “No birdseed?” the Other Redfire asked.

  “Neg, I’ll take the birdseed, too,” she leaned over to Redfire. “The marvelous part about all this is the food is wonderful, and you can eat as much as you like without ever filling up.”

  Gabrielle replied. “So, eggs, Spam, Ham, Bacon and Spam, then?”

  “Za, that.,” Halo replied. “With maybe just a little more Spam.” The Other Redfire leaned back in the booth. “While we wait for the food to get here, I’ll begin to answer your question. I’ll begin with how I died.” Chapter 06

  Pegasus – Command Conference Room, Deck +100 – “Fourteen inhabitants attacked our search team,” Anaconda Taurus Rook reported via HOLO Link from the surface. They were lined up on the dock behind her, sedated and resting on blankets. On Gethsemane, the day had grown overcast in the city, and the light was dim.

  Lt. Commander Alkema asked for clarification. “You say they’re children?”

  “They appear to be, affirmative,” Taurus Rook seemed a bit peeved at having to repeat what she thought was clear in her report. “Four of them may be very young adults, but the other ten are definitely in early pubescence, according to Medical Technician Spitfire.”

  “What is their current condition?” Alkema asked.

  “Medical teams have treated them. There is no evidence they suffered any serious injuries from their interactions with our team. We are keeping them sedated as a security precaution.”

  “Thanks, Lt. Cmdr Rook,” Alkema said. Eliza Change had tasked him to deal with the sudden discovery of children on Gethsemane, but to keep her apprised. She had then excused herself from the Main Bridge to meet in private with Specialist Atlantic and Flight Captain Driver, which Alkema had found strange.

  Alkema called an immediate meeting with specialists from the ship’s Medical and Technical Cores, as well as some from the ship’s Family Life and Cultural Survey Specialists for additional insight.

  “How did we miss the presence of children on the surface of Gethsemane?” was Alkema’s first question to his team. “More importantly, do you think there are more?”

  “The energy field from the Gateway” was the consensus answer to the first question.

  “Probably,” was the answer to the second.

  Technical Specialist Conradin Otter was a Specialist on the ability of ship’s sensors to detect human life signs. Otter explained why the sensors didn’t detect any in Port Gethsemane. “We didn’t detect human life signatures because that… Gateway device or whatever it is… is integrated into the planet’s magnetic field. Its own energy feeds back into the planet’s magnetic ley lines, and that masks life signatures from the surface.”

  “OK,” Alkema made a note of this on his datapad. “Can we compensate?” Otter reported, “We can adjust the ship’s sensors to compensate for the interference, and that will improve resolution somewhat, but our sensors are based on detecting the life energy, the ‘auras’ created by living creatures. These will still be masked by the energy output.”

  “We could ask the Gethsemanians to shut down the Gateway,” another Sensor Specialist, Soundattack, added. “But I don’t think they would agree to that.”

  “That seems unlikely,” Alkema agreed. “What about other sensing systems?” Otter had already considered this. “We can use visual, thermal, and acoustic sensors, but they wouldn’t be very effective from space. The only practical application is low-altitude flyovers in Aves equipped with enhanced sensors.”

  “How low?” Alkema asked.

  “3,000 meters or less,” Otter answered.

  Alkema scrunched his eyebrows together. “At that altitude, their scanning radius is going to be pretty small.”

  “Probably less than 90 square kilometers,” Otter told him.

  “Like looking at the planet through a beverage straw,” Alkema scratched his chin. “We can concentrate on the cities, that’s where there are most likely to be survivors.”

  “We can also increase the resolution of the ship’s optical sensors, which aren’t affected by the magnetic field,” said Technician Spirit, an expert in optimetric detection systems. “If we took Pegasus into a lower orbit… maybe a thousand kilometers… we could scan areas of the surface for movement or human presence.”

  “Except for the parts under cloud cover,” Soundattack objected.

  “Naturally,” Otter agreed.

  “We could use low altitude Aves for poor visibility areas… night and cloud cover, and scan the clear areas with Pegasus’s optical sensors,” Alkema decided.

  “What do we do when we find them?” asked the Cultural Anthropologist, Everett Silvertip.

  “We rescue them, of course,” Alkema said. “This is a real opportunity for us to perform a service to the Gethsemanians, rounding up the remaining members of their populations, bringing them up to the Gateway Complex.”

  The Cultural Survey Specialist, Eva Exeter, objected, “But, we ought to tread lightly.

  They might have left those people behind for a reason.”

  “Children?” Alkema, and Taurus Rook’s hologram, exclaimed in surprise. “That’s really unimaginable.”

  “And I know Prime Commander Keeler would disagree with me,” Exeter continued.

  “But, I think we really ought to know why these children were left behind. And, at a minimum, we should consult with their government before we proceed. And maybe the optimal way to do that is to explain it to them when we bring those first children to the Gateway Complex. But we should not be surprised if they object to our proposal.” Alkema could not imagine how the Gethsemanians could object. “Are the children ready for transport?” he asked Anaconda Rook.

  “They’re sedated and malnourished, but there’s no reason they couldn’t be transported,” Rook answered.

  Alkema nodded. “I’ll take an Aves to the surface and inform the Gethsemane government what we’re doing. Specialist Exeter, you’re with me. Meet me in Hangar Bay Alpha. I’ll secure a ship. Specialist Otter, begin the sensor augments on the Aves. Specialist Soundattack, begin augmenting the optical sensors on Pegasus.”

  “And make sure we clear the ground mission with TyroCommander Change,” Exeter added.

  Alkema felt a twinge of dread. “I’ll take that one. I’ll also recommend Commander Change take the ship down to 1,000 kilometers above the surface. That should improve our scanning capability.”

  Gethsemane – The Gateway Complex – Two hours after the meeting, Alkema returned to the planet in the Aves Victor, landing on the runway outside the main terminal where Anaconda Taurus Rook had parked the Aves Phoenix
. Alkema, Exeter, and Anaconda Taurus Rook were met by the guardsman named Thall and escorted to the Authority Central Administration building. This edifice was a grand structure, six stories tall, each story smaller and set back from the others, creating a kind of squared-off wedding cake effect. On the top level, large, plain characters reading P-E-R-A were arranged on each of the sides. The A was the largest, standing a third taller than the others.

  They took an elevator to Hildegard Kahn’s office on the fifth floor. Her office occupied most of that level except for a private conference room and a small reception area. It was decorated in red and gold; a pattern of gold diamonds on a red background was incorporated into the thick-but-well worn carpeting and drapes, the walls were red with gold moldings. The couches in the reception area were red with gold pillows.

  “Red and Gold were the colors of her party,” Thall explained, seeing the reaction of Alkema and Taurus Rook. “Red for unity, gold for Progress… Unity and Progress.”

  “It’s very…” Alkema began, then completely failed to come up with a diplomatic-but-accurate adjective. “Can we see President Kahn?”

  “She’ll be with you when her schedule permits,” answered the fussy old woman at the reception desk. “You may have a seat.”

  The receptionist then ignored them. Kahn’s chambers were separated from the reception area by a pair of very heavy gold doors. No one went in or out during the time they waited.

  Fifty minutes passed, and then Alkema approached the desk again. “Excuse me, we need to see President Kahn. Could you tell her we’re here to see her.”

  “The president will be with you when her schedule permits,” the fussy old woman snapped.

  Alkema persisted, “It’s imperative that we talk to her. People’s lives are at stake.” The old woman was unimpressed. “You are lucky to be on this level at all. And with one call to the Security Guards, you would not be.”

  Duly chastised, Alkema returned to the couch. “And I thought the Bodiceans were rude,” he muttered to Taurus Rook.

  “I think the Aurorans were the worst,” Taurus Rook replied. “They not only kept you waiting, they propositioned you while you waited.”

  “The Yronwodeans were also pretty rude,” Alkema added.

  “I kind of understood where they were coming from, though,” Taurus Rook admitted.

  “SSSSH!” the fussy old woman hissed at them.

  Alkema and Taurus Rook were resentfully silent for a few moments, but then Taurus Rook began to speak. “If this takes much longer, I should link John and have him feed Skua.”

  “Pieta should be putting out dinner around now,” Alkema said. “I’m famished. I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast.”

  “There are meal-kits on the Aves,” Taurus Rook answered, as Exeter glared at them. “I like the yellow ones.”

  “Are those the one with the corn-bars?” Alkema asked.

  “Za,” Taurus Rook answered.

  “Those aren’t bad, but I like the loose meat sandwiches in the red meal-kits better,” Alkema. “The jam-pies in the red packs are good, too.”

  “The blue ones are nasty,” said Taurus Rook.

  “Agreed,” Alkema agreed.

  “Be Quiet!” snapped the fussy old woman. “Or, I will have you removed!” Alkema and Taurus Rook sat quietly for another forty minutes. Finally, Pro-Consul Oberth came to their rescue when he appeared for a scheduled meeting with the president.

  “What brings you folks here today?” he asked, considerably more lucid than he had been the previous time Alkema had met him

  Alkema stood. “I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Lieutenant Commander Alkema from Pegasus. Our search parties have found gangs of children living in Port Gethsemane who haven’t been evacuated. We’ve brought some of the children here with us. We think the president should know. And we would like offer our assistance in conducting search and rescue for any of your remaining citizens.”

  “But only with your government’s consent,” Exeter added.

  Oberth’s warm smile melted like a snowball that just met a blowtorch. “Wait here!” he ordered with seriousness. Before Alkema or Taurus Rook could explain that waiting was what they were already doing, Oberth hurried into Kahn’s office chambers.

  A moment later, Oberth poked his head out from behind the gold doors. “Mr. Thall, please bring our guests forward.”

  Thall stood. “Follow me,” he said. The tension in the air had increased palpably in the few seconds since Oberth had arrived.

  They passed through a large antechamber with two sets of double doors. The walls of this antechamber were hung with photographic portraits of President Hildegard Kahn, all striking heroic poses as she addressed her people, cut the ribbon at the opening of a relocation center, greeted a flight of refugees, or some other public event. The more recent ones had been doctored to hide her advancing age.

  A guard opened one of the sets of double-doors from the inside, revealing a conference table at which Kahn and Oberth sat. Kahn’s expression was one of barely controlled fury.

  Before Alkema and Rook even had a chance to sit down, she began railing at them. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Alkema tried to speak. “Mrs the President, our landing teams in the city of Port Gethsemane…”

  She cut him off, “What the fluck do you mean ‘landing teams?’ I never gave you any flucking permission to come down to my planet.”

  “They were conducting a… cultural survey,” Alkema answered, this time finding the technically and diplomatically accurate description. “They were seeking to document and preserve the memory of …”

  “I didn’t give anyone the flucking permission to do that!” Kahn glared at them, filled with rage.

  “On behalf of the Odyssey Mission,” Exeter began. “I wish to extend our apologies for…”

  “The point is,” Taurus Rook interrupted, “We’ve found children in the city. We don’t know if they were abandoned by their parents or what, but we have brought them here.

  We believe there are more kids in the city. We came here intending to offer you assistance so they could be evacuated through the Gateway.”

  “We don’t want your flucking help,” Kahn snapped. “In fact, I want all your flucking pig-lickers off my planet.”

  Alkema was stunned.

  “If you aren’t out of my building and back on your flucking ships in ten minutes, I’ll tell my guards to shoot your flucking heads off.” And with that, she rose and charged from the room without another word.

  Pro-Consul Oberth apologized profusely for her, and attributed it to tension and fatigue.

  Alkema tried to put it aside. “Mr Oberth, there is still the matter of 14 heavily sedated children waiting in our ship…”

  “Can you take them to your mother-ship?” Oberth asked, with urgency in his voice. “To your… Pegasus?”

  “Of course,” Alkema replied, somewhat befuddled. “But I assumed you would want to send them through the Gateway to join your people.”

  “They can’t go through the Gateway,” Oberth replied, determined and sad. “Their only chance is for you to take them back to your ship.”

  “Why not?” Alkema asked.

  Oberth whispered intently. “Come with me. I would hate for you to get shot in the head on my account.”

  Oberth walked them out to the reception area, where the fussy old woman had been joined by four armed guards. Oberth waved the guards off. “I will escort the visitors out.

  You need not trouble yourselves.”

  “We have orders,” one of the guards said.

  “To escort them out of the building, right?” Oberth challenged them.

  “Those are our orders,” the lead guard confirmed.

  “I think only four people fit in that elevator,” Oberth told them. “In fact, as Pro-Consul for Health and Safety, I declare that that elevator’s capacity is limited to four people, for safety reasons. Now then, y’see, since there are four
of you, there is no way you can all escort these three people out of the building. You could make several trips with two of you escorting them one at a time, y’see. But that would take more than twn minutes, wouldn’t it? Do you want to explain to President Kahn why you failed to get these people out of the building in the required time period?”

  The lead guard’s face turned white at the prospect.

  Oberth grunted with satisfaction. “I will escort them out. You can report to Hildegard Kahn that they have been returned to their ship.”

  Oberth quickly shuffled them into the elevator. As it began its descent, he explained,

  “When the first families were sent through the Gateway, they emerged on the other side without their children. No one knows why. No one knows where the children went. They just disappeared. It was a very tragic situation.”

  Alkema was horrified, and that was just a shadow of how he imagined he would feel if he and Pieta emerged on the other side without Djamilla, the twins, and Little William.

  Anaconda Taurus Rook beat him to saying, “That’s horrible.”

  “It is,” Oberth agreed. “Horrible, most horrible, most of our people believe it’s because children haven’t yet developed enough moral responsibility to be ready for the Afterlife…” Alkema’s mind was racing. It couldn’t be that. There had to be something to do with mass, or physiology. “Is there a cut-off age or something?” he asked.

  “Thirteen or so,” Oberth answered, and his face became flushed. “There were some terrible experiments… terrible… terrible experiments. We knew about the problem fifteen years ago when the Gateway was first activated. The Authority issued a law, the No Child Left Behind Law. We made sterilization mandatory at all population levels.” The elevator reached the bottom floor. A dozen armed guards lined the foyer. Oberth told them to hold their place while he escorted the outsiders back to their ship. He led them outside, where their bus was waiting.

  “The Mandatory Sterilization order didn’t work,” Alkema said, once they had cleared the guards.

  Oberth sighed, “Unfortunately, you can’t make everybody follow the law. ‘Cos people are like that, y’see. You tell them not do something, y’see, and they just have to do it. The Authority did everything they could, there were propaganda campaigns, most of the population went along with that. Then, there was the crackdown, and that got most of the rest… but there’s always a few.”