by Geoff North
Had he done so, the reluctant pilot would’ve seen a flash of silver sliding meters above the section of moon’s surface they’d been standing at moments ago.
Chapter 9
Shain Agle entered the bridge and shook his head in disgust. He looked about, from one section to the next, attempting to instill in the skeleton crew remaining some sense of authority he no longer carried. Why hadn’t Sulafat left the place properly manned, he wondered? No one was at Security, Weapons, or Environmental sections. The command chair was empty.
“Kalin Aurig!” He shouted.
The young man at nav-helm turned in his chair. “Sir?”
“What the hell’s going on up here? This isn’t the way to operate the bridge of a warship.” Agle strode towards the command dais. The on-duty officers at Propulsion and Communication watched the overweight ex-General climb the command platform steps and sink into the chair. “Three of you! He leaves three inexperienced crew members to watch over everything at a time like this. Unheard of, I tell you, completely unacceptable.”
“The Captain and the rest of the section heads have assembled directly below us, sir,” Aurig said nervously. He kept his eyes locked on Agle and tapped a button on his control board. “We’ve been assured that if something happens, they’ll be back up here in moments.”
“If something happens?” Agle repeated. “Something has happened, you unobservant little shit. We’re at war! I may no longer hold the necessary rank, but I know a hell of a lot more than the three of—”
Heavy footsteps sounded at the base of the command platform. Nash climbed up onto the bridge. “Shain Agle, may I ask what you’re doing seated in the Captain’s chair?”
“I just found out about Sulafat’s damn meeting.” Agle fidgeted and twisted, attempting to settle his fat rear-end into the too-small seat. “I’d planned on attending until I saw the state he’d left the bridge in.”
“You were not invited to the meeting, and your presence isn’t required on the bridge.”
“I’ve been Ambition’s Military General for twenty-six years.” He dabbed the sweat on his cheeks with the cuff of a sleeve. “I have more to offer than Sulafat realizes.”
“You are no longer a General. You were not invited to the meeting, and your presence isn’t required on the bridge. Please remove yourself from the command chair.”
“I will not.”
Nash took a single step up the dais. Agle wriggled his way out of the seat and stood. “I haven’t sacrificed more than half my life to be treated like this. Let me attend the meeting… I have some ideas that—”
“You were not invited to the meeting, and your presence isn’t required on the bridge. Do not force me to restrict you to your quarters.”
“You don’t… you don’t have the authority,” Agle’s jowls quivered. “Do you?” The robot remained silent with one big metal foot resting on the first step of the command platform. Shain Agle stepped around him and headed for the bridge exit. “To hell with you then. To hell with all of you.”
Chapter 10
“We have sustained ourselves for hundreds of years,” Garnet Ceph proclaimed as Nash returned to the Baker’s Dozen gathering. Sulafat nodded, and the robot resumed his position next to the Captain once again. The head of Food & Water was standing, fat little fists supporting his weight against the table. “And we could sustain ourselves for another ten centuries out in the stars. Hell, we could live out here forever. Our resources are limitless. We’ve dropped out of fold drive less than a hundred times since leaving the Sol system to harvest from comets and stray asteroids. There is an endless supply of water and minerals to draw from. Pick any coordinates, steer this world of ours in any direction. We can survive. I see no good reason to upset this way of life by starting a war.”
Vin watched Mintaka Onis shake her head slowly throughout Garnet’s long-winded speech. The head of Environment obviously didn’t agree with the little man’s hopeful outlook, and she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to talk further. Mintaka patted his fist like a mother trying to calm an excited child and stood. “Sit down, Garnet, and listen to reality.”
Sulafat had allowed every section head seated at the table to make a statement. Sheratan had chosen not to speak at all, which came as no surprise to the others; the second in command would undoubtedly cast her vote alongside with whatever the Captain decided, whether she agreed with him or not. Hal Gulum had taken less than thirty seconds to share his view. He had sworn an oath to save life, not exterminate it. Everyone knew how he would vote before he’d even stood. Argus Cor had stated the obvious—no communication had come from the Pegan civilization since that first dire warning was received centuries earlier, even though Ambition had consistently tried speaking with them. She interpreted this as a sign of closed hostility—as the majority of Communication section heads before her had. Argus would adhere to the original military objective. Security head Homa Sis vowed to protect everyone onboard Ambition, war or no war. No one was sure how she would vote.
Vin sat quietly through it all, absorbing every word. She still wasn’t sure why the Captain had wanted her to attend, but she would be prepared to offer any opinions if he questioned her about it later. She sat motionless on her bench and listened to Mintaka.
“We draw half our energy from the nuclear heart of this ship. The other half is absorbed from distant suns and whatever we can mine from space rocks.” She pushed Garnet Ceph back down into his chair and continued. “Garnet’s cheery view of drifting and picking through space for the next thousand years is a childish fantasy. Living like that is eternal damnation in my opinion. Is it possible? Yes, I suppose it is, but it’s a life that can take a drastic turn towards total disaster in a very short time. There’s no guarantee of finding harvestable bodies the next time we drop into space normal speed. The ship is old; there are system breakdowns to consider. Maintenance is constant, and the workloads being handed out to crew members is doubling almost every generation.”
Garnet was shaking his head now, Vin noted, but he wasn’t going to try and stop Mintaka from finishing her bleak report. Everyone was listening intently.
“And every generation is becoming a little less educated than the one before. Things are slowly coming apart on our world. A few generations from now the ability to just keep the air clean will be a monumental challenge. Maybe it will happen sooner. We’re one major malfunction away from total catastrophe. I say we fulfill our ancestor’s wishes, take what belongs to the Pegans and make it ours.”
Many before Mintaka had said the same words. Every section head seated in the Captain’s quarters had heard the dire warnings since they were children. Ambition could support herself, as Garnet had stated, if all conditions, internal and external, remained consistent. But the Environment head was right; they had been traveling through space for far too long, and eventually their luck would run out. If the Pegan mission was scrapped, if they voted to venture off to the next system, Ambition and her people could very well perish. Humankind was intelligent enough to make it to the stars, but centuries of merely surviving wasn’t enough. Without change, without challenge, men and women stagnated. And relying on the meager offerings of a cold cosmos to provide endless sustenance would only speed up the process of their eventual extinction.
“Tor?”
The newly appointed Head of Military stared at the table’s black surface. Ma’s wine was making his head spin. Mintaka’s statement wanted to make him throw it all back up.
“General Emin.”
He looked up and saw the Captain staring at him. “Sir?”
“Would you care to make a statement?”
Mintaka was sitting again, looking his way expectantly. They all were. Tor saw Vin Vir sitting behind the Captain with a confused expression on her face. He imagined he probably looked a lot worse. “I believe…” They’re expecting me to say something stupid. Waiting for me screw up. Damn Ly Sulafat. This is why he called me here. This is how the punishment
begins. “I have nothing more to say on the matter, sir.”
The Captain merely shrugged. “Understandable. It’s your first day after all. Religion… your opinion please.”
There was no confusion in Zosma Lion’s manner. The older man stood slowly, purposefully. He tugged gently at the curls of his white beard and ran his hand over the receding hair on his head. Zosma looked every section head in the eye and offered Tor a sympathetic smile at the end. “We have not travelled into the heavens alone, my friends.” Tor’s head was still pounding, but it didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes. “The men and women that built this vessel along the Jupiter side of the Sol Asteroid Belt didn’t build alone. Their great-grand parents didn’t terra-form Mars and colonize its rejuvenated surface alone.”
Zosma began walking behind the section heads seated along his side of the table. It wasn’t enough for him to just stand and babble, Tor thought. He had to make a production of it.
“We didn’t step on the Earth moon alone for the first time, nor cross the Atlantic Ocean alone in ships made of wood and canvas sails.” Zosma paused behind Chort Leo’s chair, settling his long fingers on the headrest. He cast an impressive image, Tor had to give him that much, dressed in the traditional white cloak that trailed down to his ankles. All the highest-ranking zealots wore them. They’d been floating around like self-proclaimed angels since the ill-fated Turnback Revolution six and a half centuries earlier. They looked more like ghosts to Tor.
Zosma passed by Nash standing like a silent sentinel and stepped behind the Captain. “None of our kind has ever been alone. The Spirit of Sol has been with us always.”
Hal Gulum made an unpleasant sound with his lips.
“You’ve already addressed the section heads, Doctor,” Zosma responded softly. “Allow me my time.”
“The other section heads are people of science… not sun-worshipping mystics.”
Sulafat interrupted. “Let him finish.”
Zosma gave the Captain a polite nod. “I’m not refuting the importance of science. The machines that power this ship, and the air we breathe are supplied by it. But it is the Spirit that allows science to develop. The energy of Sol birthed all of us… Sol let us evolve into the creatures we are today.”
The head of Propulsion spoke out. “We are drawing less than one per cent of our solar energy from Sol. The star in this system is our primary source of power now, has been for decades. How does that work in your universe of one mother star?”
“Peg 51 is Sol’s daughter, Gacrux. Betelgeuse is her son. Polaris, and Rigel are her grandchildren. Every star within the Milky Way are hers, and the stars beyond in Andromeda, Triangulum, Sculptor, and Whirlpool. Her power knows no bounds… her life-giving energy sustains all creatures throughout the universe.”
Tor could see Sulafat shooting warning glances at all the heads. No one would say another word until Zosma was finished. The words were nonsense, but the zealot had plenty of followers. Enough people believed in the Spirit of Sol to allow Religion its own seat at the Captain’s table.
“Peg 51 helps sustain us because it is Sol’s wish to see us expand outwards.” Zosma had made it back to his side of the table. “We should honor that wish, and settle on her second planet.”
“Thank you for your input, Zosma.” The Captain moved quickly to the young woman seated next to him. “Sakan… a statement from Education, please.”
Sakan Coro spoke briefly, as did the Head of Data, Nair Cran. Finally, all eyes settled on Chort Leo. He leaned back and clasped his fingers together over his belly. “I’m a man that lives his life on facts, not fairy tales. But to dismiss Zosma’s powerful words altogether would be a mistake, and that is a fact. Is Sol truly the mother star of our universe? Likely not. But she did give us the strength to pull ourselves out of the oceans and walk on two feet. She brought us out here. All the stars have populated the planets throughout our universe with life. That life continues to spread out. Was war with the Pegan civilization our only motivation to leave the Sol system? We’d already reached the outer planets. We would’ve gone further eventually. Pega is there waiting for us.”
Vin was revolted at the sight of him, sitting there with his short legs spread apart as if the Captain’s quarters belonged to him. He was as pompous as Zosma, but without any of the hypnotic charm. The coward had yet to acknowledge Vin was even in the same room. He wouldn’t reprimand her personally for skipping out of her shift. Someone else would do the dirty work for him, she was sure.
Chort leaned forward, the chair squealed. His beady dark eyes glistened. “We shouldn’t even be discussing this. There is no choice. Sitting together like this, conspiring and second-guessing is how it started with the Turnbacks.”
“Time’s up, Chort.” Sulafat had heard enough. He glanced quickly at his CS. “That’s the second time today I’ve heard about the Turnbacks. This isn’t the beginning of another uprising. Those traitors were mutineers—they sabotaged the ship, extending centuries to Ambition’s long journey.”
“We attack or we don’t attack,” Mintaka said. “We obey our original orders or we don’t.”
“Or we send an unarmed delegation to the planet,” Sulafat countered. “We try talking to them face to face.” He held a hand up to silence Argus before she could remind him of Pega’s reluctance to communicate. “There could be a million reasons why they’ve chosen not to speak with us, not all of them have to involve sinister intentions.”
“They’ve already attacked us,” Chort blurted out. “Quit being so weak.”
Hal Gulum rocked forward. “How would you feel about leaving this meeting on a stretcher?”
Nash took one heavy step towards the table. “Please, doctor. No violence.”
Sulafat offered Hal a weary smile. “I’ve been accused of worse.” He stood up and went to the three-meter wide observation window. It was still taking him time to adjust seeing the distant stars as points of light and not oval-shaped blurs. They’d dropped out from fold drive three weeks earlier—it had happened only six times before in Sulafat’s life—but the effect was still disorienting. The planet of Pega was the brightest point of light piercing through the back drop of space. Two duller spots, the moons Mantus and Oread, hung under her like pendulums on an ancient clock.
Vin was waiting along with the others for Sulafat to continue speaking. What was taking the Captain so long? Was Chort right—was he weak? Was he too old to lead them into whatever it was they were heading into?
Even Nash was apparently concerned. The big robot thumped across the room to stand beside him. “Are you well, Captain? Do you wish to reconvene this meeting at a later time?”
“The Pegans have only spoken to us once,” Sulafat turned away from the distant points of light and repeated the infamous ten words for all of them to hear. “We are aware of your existence. We will end you.” He waited a few moments to let it soak in. “Nothing before that, nothing since… Why?”
“They’ve been scrambling their transmissions from the very beginning,” Argus Cor said. “There can be no other explanation. They didn’t want anyone else in the galaxy to know they were there.”
“Smart thinking,” Hal Added. “If our ancestors had done the same thing back in the twentieth century, we wouldn’t be in the mess we are now. Both planets would be happily unaware of the other’s existence.”
Everyone at the table murmured in agreement. Mankind never should’ve trumpeted out their location without wondering first what might be out there listening. Sulafat started back towards his chair. “Earth has remained silent ever since then as well. They haven’t sent a single message our way.”
“All Earth transmissions have been scrambled since 2322,” Nash pointed out. “Ambition’s original crew was well aware the communication blackout would include them as well.”
“But Ambition’s journey to Pega was only supposed to last seventy-five years. We’ve been out here almost ten times longer than that.” Sulafat sat back down. “Wouldn’t t
hey be wondering what happened? Would they not have broken protocol at least once to see if the men and women they’d sent out so long ago had engaged in a planetary war?”
“It isn’t our duty to second guess Earth Command,” Chort said. “The original mission stands, our duty—”
Sulafat cut the Sciences head off. “Let us assume Earth has adhered to the zero-communication policy. Why haven’t they sent a second ship to discover what became of us? It’s been seven hundred years. Why haven’t they sent an entire armada of warships?”
“What are you saying?” Sheratan asked. “Do you believe Earth has abandoned the mission, that they no longer care what became of us?”
“Perhaps… or maybe there’s no one back there at all.”
Vin had heard that theory many times before. It was a story most people only dared to whisper. If there was no one left back on Earth to fight for, why fight at all? That kind of talk was even less tolerated than the idea of a second Turnback Insurrection.
“Let’s not go there, Captain,” Zosma said. “Perhaps there’s been too much discussion already. Should we put it to a vote?”
Sulafat leaned back and nodded slowly. There was nothing more he could say to sway them. “Yes… time once and for all to see where this will end.” He sighed heavily. “I vote against the war. Sheratan?”
“I vote for it.”
Vin could sense disappointment in the way Sulafat’s shoulders slumped. The CS had obviously taken him by surprise. The Captain tried not to let it show as he looked to Chort. “Sciences?’
Chort was practically beaming. “Original mission, all the way.”
Hal Gulum and Garnet Ceph voted against, Mintaka and Argus for. The vote continued. It was six for war, and six opposed. One vote remained. Everyone looked anxiously at the man seated at the end of the table.