Origins

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Origins Page 29

by Mark Henrikson


  Pretty soon every set of eyes in the room hit Mark with disapproving stares. Mark casually pulled out a note pad and began writing for later use in his final report to Terrance about the success of his mission. What did he care if every individual in the room hated him? If they only knew the danger he just helped humanity avoid, they’d throw a parade and name their children after him.

  As Mark wrote in his journal, a flicker of light caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He looked up to see that the main viewer once again showed the intimidating reflection of Rex, the repair robot, off the maintenance hatch door. Suddenly, the door slid open and Rex was on the move.

  “Wha . . . what’s going on with Rex?” Jeremy stammered. “Is anyone giving him instructions?”

  There was no response in the room as everyone watched Rex plug himself into a data port. Moments later the screen showed a grid of one’s and zero’s scrolling across.

  Jeremy jumped in his chair when his work station began receiving a message from the probe that detailed the mathematical address of planet earth. “Whatever Rex did it worked, the probe’s transmitting the intended message. This is odd though, the signal is over fifty times stronger than the design specifications. Rex just gave the transmission a shot of steroids.”

  “That’s not all he’s done,” Julie added. “The fusion reactor just throttled up to maximum output; the probe is picking up speed rapidly. Someone run and get Dr. Kranz, he needs to see this.”

  In the last ten seconds things took an abrupt and terrifying turn for the worse Mark concluded so he sprung to his feet and took control of the situation.

  “Shut down the reactor and that robot immediately,” Mark ordered.

  No one moved a muscle since they didn’t feel obliged to follow orders from anyone except the flight director. Before he had time to protest, Mark watched the screen in horror as the spider-like robot reared back and threw itself into the communications receiver onboard the reactor. The result was an impressive array of sparks.

  Rex was dead, and so was any means for NASA to send orders to the probe. The probe was locked on course, broadcasting its dangerous message at fifty times the volume originally expected, speeding away at unprecedented speeds and there wasn’t a thing Mark could do to stop it.

  “Analyze the probe’s message,” Mark ordered. “Is it the original, or has it been modified in any way?”

  Jeremy sat in his chair, arms defiantly folded across his chest.

  Mark whipped out his NSA credentials and slapped them on the workstation desk. “This grants me ultimate authority over this mission. Now give me the analysis!”

  Jeremy was unimpressed and didn’t budge.

  As a last resort, Mark drew his pistol and pointed it at the young man’s head. “Right now.”

  Several shrieks and cries went up around the room, while Jeremy finally turned in his chair to face his workstation.

  “You’re not a nice man,” Jeremy squeaked as he pulled up a few charts of the original message and laid them next to similar charts of the new message. Everything looked the same except the size of the data file. It was much larger.

  “Why is the new message a bigger data file than the original?” Mark asked. “They’re communicating the same information.”

  “Let me run it through a frequency filter,” Jeremy snapped. “It looks like there might be something going on at a different wave length.”

  “In English, Jeremy,” Mark barked. “I don’t speak nerd, remember.”

  “Meany,” Jeremy said softly. “It’ll be easier to show you.”

  The kid hit a button and the chart showing the new message signal separated into two lines. The only thing Mark looked at was the frequency numbers along the side. The bottom line was of no concern, but the top made Mark’s stomach nearly turn inside out. He knew the frequency very well. Instantly, Mark bolted out the door and continued sprinting down the main corridor toward the flight director’s office.

  Chapter 45: The Chicken or the Pig

  Hastelloy awoke to a tickling sensation of warm liquid dripping from both his earlobes. As he opened his eyes they soon focused on two deep red spots in the sand at either side of his feet where the blood from his ears pooled. His body was completely numb and his head felt like it was floating above his shoulders rather than actually attached.

  Hastelloy soon regained control of his body and senses. He noticed a dull throb in both his ears, which rapidly crescendoed to a blinding pain that threatened to make him pass out again. He felt as if someone impaled both sides of his head with ice picks and was twisting them around for good measure. The pain was beyond anything he’d endured in his entire existence.

  With great effort Hastelloy pushed the pain ever so slightly to the side of his mind to focus on the scene around him. He looked down at the crowd and saw most people still cowering on the ground with hands over their ears. He envied the protection their free hands must have afforded them from the blast.

  Hastelloy took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Along with the excess air in his lungs, the stress and anxiety of the situation left his body as well. He always operated with multiple backup plans in place just in case something didn’t go according to script with any one of them. In the end, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong, and yet they were victorious.

  He didn’t like who he had to thank for the victory, but the end result was for the greater good. He closed his eyes, reared his head back and cried out a triumphant roar that he was unable to hear but could feel vibrating throughout his body. The threat of the Alpha returning home was neutralized and the millions of lives in the Nexus were now safe. He let his head rest against the stone as he enjoyed the victory; even if it wasn’t solely his.

  Gradually, the ringing in Hastelloy’s ears faded away. Muffled sounds of the wind howling and people screaming in terror crept their way back into Hastelloy’s sense of hearing. Those sounds were off in the distance, however, and were suddenly replaced by the sound of a person whistling nearby. He may not have recognized the tune, but he was certain the source was getting closer. Hastelloy turned his head to the left as the faint crunch of footsteps drew near.

  Slowly Hastelloy opened his eyes to the sight of Tomal approaching with the casual pace of a man out for an afternoon stroll. He noticed with great envy that Tomal’s ears were stuffed with thick wads of cotton.

  The arrogant young man looked exceptionally pleased with himself, which made Hastelloy mentally prepare to endure a very acerbic attitude from Tomal. The lieutenant stared right through his captain, secure in the knowledge that he owned the moment. Hastelloy’s prodigal subordinate came to a stop in front of his captain and made an exaggerated effort to remove his ear protection before speaking.

  “Well, would you look at that?” Tomal asked while he looked back where the Alpha ship once hovered above the pyramid. He was probably yelling at the top of his lungs, but to Hastelloy it was a muted whisper.

  “It looks like those four obelisks were positioned with amazing precision to siphon power away from the gravity coils and channel the energy onto the nearest metallic object. That’s just my guess, but it couldn’t possibly be correct could it? To pull that off would require impossibly precise placement of the spires. On top of that it would require the perfect height and shape to the stones in order to conduct and direct the energy bolts. Then you have to factor in that all four obelisks needed to meet these stringent criteria and you get something that is virtually impossible to accomplish. Whoever engineered that really knew what he was doing wouldn’t you say?”

  Hastelloy sported a forced smile. “I said it on the island when we first landed and I’ll say it here, you are by far the finest engineer that’s ever served under me. Your abilities are to be commended. They won this day and saved millions of Novan lives.”

  Hastelloy paused as Tomal eagerly soaked up the words of praise. The young man looked genuinely surprised to hear the captain openly acknowledge his greatness. Be
fore Hastelloy could continue, Gallono butted his way into the conversation.

  “Now let’s discuss your methods. You didn’t think it was necessary to inform your commanding officers of an alternate plan?” Gallono demanded.

  “You assaulted your captain by brutally attacking him with a whip. Soldiers have been executed for far less crimes,” Gallono added as he visibly fought to control his impulse to tear loose from his chains and snap Tomal’s neck like a chicken.

  Tomal jumped at the chance to defend his actions. “I had to keep it all to myself. There was no reliable way to communicate with you. Being an overseer gave me the necessary access to figure out what was happening, but it also carried with it certain expectations. Most prominent of these was not socializing with the slaves. In short, having any communications or friendship with the four of you was a huge liability to me and my mission.”

  “Yes, having friends in such low places is a real killjoy to ones social standing,” Gallono mocked. “If communicating with us openly was no longer an option, you certainly could’ve found more covert means.”

  Tomal’s expression of satisfaction began melting away. Clearly, he thought his great deeds should overshadow his inappropriate actions. “Having another meeting to discuss the specifics of my plan was too risky. The overseers saw you four in particular as troublemakers. As long as I was affiliated with you they’d never trust me with any real access or responsibility. I needed to alienate myself from the four of you to have a chance.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that; you’re resourceful when you want to be. If you wanted to get a message to us you could’ve found a way. Mosa certainly comes to mind.”

  “Pharaoh’s sister, are you serious?” Tomal let the rhetorical question hang in the air for a few heartbeats. “Maybe I could’ve found a way to inform you of my every move, but I saw no need to jeopardize the mission by doing something that risky. I knew beyond any doubt I could do it, and I saw no harm in proceeding with a parallel plan of attack that didn’t interfere with yours.”

  “No harm!” Gallono growled. “You don’t think there was any harm in having your captain pinned to the ground while you wailed on him for show in front of your slave driving buddies? Oh, there was harm all right. You’re completely dead to us now, regardless of your plan’s outcome.”

  Tomal ignored the commander’s words and looked directly at Hastelloy with sincerity. “The day you orchestrated the mob to cover your altering the gravity coils was the worst day of my existence. The hardest task I’ve ever had to carry out as an officer of the fleet was to whip you like I did. I truly wish there’d been another way.”

  “I don’t buy this for a second,” Gallono challenged. “You spouted off insults and hatred for the captain the entire time while your henchmen held me down so I couldn’t tear you apart.”

  “I needed your reaction to be genuine,” Tomal barked. “That kind of emotion can’t be faked.”

  “Tell you what. Why don’t you let me out of these chains, and we’ll see what genuine emotions come out of me then,” Gallono sneered.

  “That was exactly the point commander,” Hastelloy said butting his way into the conversation as he looked over at his friend. “Your rage, over anything else, is what sold the performance. I needed to keep you in the dark about Tomal’s actions so that moment of pure rage could happen.”

  A murderous look grew across Gallono’s face as the realization sank in. The look made Hastelloy very glad the commander was still chained to a wall because the man was ready to break loose and kill anything he could get his hands on. Not a word was uttered, but Gallono’s angry stare spoke volumes. The commander was many things, but he was not someone who liked being kept out of the loop. He especially didn’t like being made to look the fool.

  Tomal finally broke the long silence. “I have to hand it to you, Captain. When you commit to selling an undercover identity you pull out all the stops. First, I marveled at your willingness to endure an unconscionably brutal whipping in order to get me further imbedded with the overseers. Now I see you with bleeding eardrums, and I’m in reverent awe of the extent to which you’ll sacrifice yourself for the greater good of a mission.”

  Reluctantly Hastelloy accepted the complement. “I did my duty; we all had our roles to play.”

  Tomal’s face lit up with pride as he recounted the heroism he witnessed. “It went well beyond duty, sir. You knew full well an explosion of that magnitude was coming yet you took no steps to protect yourself. I don’t think I could’ve done that. I would have tried to stuff my ears with cotton to protect them, even with the risk of the Alpha possibly seeing it and suspecting something was amiss. How do you do it?”

  “At some point in every officer’s career he needs to decide if he is a chicken or a pig when it comes to breakfast.”

  Tomal’s bright smile quickly morphed into a pinched expression, “You must still be out of it, sir. You’re talking gibberish.”

  Hastelloy let out a loud laugh. “Not at all. You see the chicken is involved in a breakfast by providing the eggs, but a pig is committed to the meal by providing the bacon and ham. Long ago I resolved to be the pig.”

  Tomal sported an introspective look as the analytical engineering mindset kicked in.

  “Relax. It wasn’t all guts and glory,” Hastelloy said as he eyed the wrist restraints that prevented him from covering his ears. “I had no idea they’d imprison us in such a way to prevent our hands from covering our ears.”

  “That was an interesting analogy, Captain,” Gallono spouted. “You neglected to mention the orange. Three innocent oranges get plucked and dropped into a situation they knew nothing about. Then they’re tossed around and bruised on their way to the meal. Finally, without warning, they’re squeezed and made to have their fluids ooze out of their bodies to provide a drink for the breakfast. Take it from me, being the orange is not the way to go.”

  Gallono paused and allowed his hateful glare to soften into a mild smile toward his captain. “For the greater good, right?”

  “Always,” Hastelloy answered.

  Chapter 46: Consequences

  “Tomal’s betrayal was just an act?” Dr. Holmes asked his patient in amazement. “His hatred toward you and the others, and his taste for the lavish lifestyle were him simply playing the part?”

  “He did his duty, and made good on his pledge to do whatever it took to get our fellow soldiers home,” Hastelloy said dryly. “He engineered a masterpiece, that is all there is to say about it. I may have planted the idea for him to build a device to interfere with the Alpha’s plans, but he was the one who made it all come together. He single-handedly saved more lives than any other individual I can think of in recorded history.”

  Hastelloy’s vacant gaze looked past Jeffery to the back wall. The corners of his lips turned down for a brief moment as he exhaled an understated sigh. Dr. Holmes was pretty sure he saw a hint of regret and sorrow in the man’s eyes. Clearly, discussing this Tomal character was a difficult subject. Whatever the character represented in Hastelloy’s real life, it was associated with great pain. Jeffrey knew he needed to press the issue for the patient to make progress.

  “Tomal hurt you very badly on the way to achieving his victory. Finding a way to forgive such actions is very difficult. In fact, it’s probably the most difficult thing any of us can be asked to do. However, holding onto anger, hatred, or jealousy in the end is only destructive to the person harboring the feelings.”

  “I don’t resent Tomal’s victory or his actions,” Hastelloy said defensively. “They were for the greater good, and remember, I volunteered to endure that whipping to sell the ruse. I did it then, and I’d do it again in a heart beat if it meant a victorious outcome.”

  “Then why do I see regret in your eyes?” Dr. Holmes asked.

  “My regret is for the cost that accompanied our victory. Tomal’s disdain for authority, his penchant for the good things in life, and his arrogant belief that he could do no wrong were embo
ldened. This led to great difficulties down the road. The most immediate of which was how close he was to the ruling family of Egypt. Tomal had a very high opinion of himself, and was well positioned to rise even higher.

  “I don’t see how,” Jeffrey interrupted. “Pharaoh’s brother couldn’t have been too happy seeing Pharaoh explode before his eyes. Plus Tomal owned Mosa and basically used her as a sex slave, so he probably didn’t carry much favor with her either. It looks to me like he was in as much trouble as the rest of you, if not more.”

  “Well spotted my dear Holmes, you might make a good detective yet,” Hastelloy commended. “You’re correct; he was in a precarious spot. I probably should have let him get captured and executed to knock him down a few rungs on the ego ladder, but there was still a job to do. Plus I thought my solving a problem he was powerless to fix on his own would reassert my leadership position over him. It worked to a certain extent, but Tomal’s natural tendencies couldn’t be dissuaded so easily.”

  “What job was there still to do?” Jeffrey asked, “The Alpha were defeated.”

  “Yes they were, but the destruction of their ship meant the loss of any systems capable of controlling the gravity coils. Remember, the circuits on my ship were completely fried beyond any hope of repair. I knew we were going to be on this planet for the long haul. That being the case, a safe place needed to be established to conceal the Nexus so our victory wouldn’t be short lived.”

  Chapter 47: Retribution

  Hastelloy’s hearing must have improved because he was able to detect a disturbance off in the darkness. Soon he saw the faint glow of lit torches. Lots of torches and they were coming closer. An angry mob was approaching, and judging by the tone, they were out for blood.

  Tomal’s self-satisfied look melted away to an expression of sheer panic. Thanks to the Nexus, dying wasn’t his real concern. The pace and manner in which he died was the issue. He must have suddenly realized his helping murder Pharaoh, along with his gods, wouldn’t be very popular. Judging by the look on his face, he had no idea what to do next to get out of his situation.

 

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