Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  Cindy stares at the speakers and frowns. What now? “On my way,” she replies with a shake of her head. She makes great time getting to the make shift medical area. She stops in her tracks, as she sees Henry rushing from bed to bed. The area has three motionless people laying in beds, each with intravenous drips. Henry looks up at her with frantic eyes and she is chilled. What the hell could panic this man? The hairs on the back of her neck crawl as she wonders if this is connected to Emma’s discovery.

  Henry walks to her, carrying a needle. “Your arm.” He states firmly.

  Cindy obediently holds her arm out, and flinches when Henry pokes her with a needle and extracts a blood sample. He takes the sample to a workbench and smears a drop onto a microscope slide. Looking through the powerful microscope, he stands hunched over with his back to her.

  After a few minutes of waiting, Cindy cannot stand it any longer. “What’s going on?” Her normally firm voice falters.

  Henry steps back from the bench, his shoulders sag in defeat. “Emma informed me a short time ago that the water tanks are contaminated.” He gulps. “Well, these people came in here this morning with fevers. They were complaining of gastrointestinal issues.” He looks over at the three beds. “About half an hour ago, the first of them lost consciousness, quickly followed by the rest.”

  Cindy’s heart races, she is quite familiar with viruses’ and diseases, but this feels odd, even to her. Her years as a lead geneticist, and the then the director, of Germany’s secret underground biological research facility are about to be put to the test. She asks nervously, “So, what are we facing?”

  Henry looks down at the floor and paces the room for a moment. He gulps again, and then asks her quite sternly. “Do you have a strong stomach?”

  Cindy frowns in confusion and replies. “Uh, well sure. I have seen my share of viruses, and their effects.”

  Henry shakes his head slowly. “This is unlike anything you have ever seen.” His eyes gravitate to the work bench.

  Cindy apprehensively walk over and looks into the microscope. At first she is confused by the sight, suddenly she bolts upright, runs to a garbage can, and throws up. “That’s in my blood?” Cindy states between heaves.

  Henry sits down, defeated. “We are five for five now.”

  “What does it do?” Cindy asks, more out of fear, than anything else.

  Henry nods toward the three beds and replies, “I don’t know yet, I am still trying to find out where it came from, and hoping to figure out a cure. It was only minutes before I called you that I noticed the spores in their blood.”

  Cindy stares intently at Henry, and says, “You will have every resource you need to find a cure, including my expertise.”

  Henry returns her stare; his expression is quite bleak. He considers the daunting task ahead of them as he says, “We must test everyone, but without alarming the crew.”

  Cindy tries to get the image she saw out of her mind as she replies, “Agreed.”

  The next few hours are a blur as they test the crew, and examine sample after sample. During this time, five more people are admitted to the infirmary, they too, each lose consciousness soon after arriving.

  Cindy rechecks her own blood, and is again repulsed at the sight. Tiny spores that whip out tendrils as though they were actually alive, swim around in her blood. She can only imagine what the spores are doing to her body.

  Patrick comes barging into the room, his bodysuit collides with the door frame with a loud clang as he stops. “We found the source!”

  Henry looks up as he has a revelation. “Patrick, I need to test your blood. You have not been tested yet.”

  While Henry examines Patrick’s blood, Cindy and Patrick hurry off to investigate the source. Arriving at their destination, Cindy shakes her head in annoyance. I should have known better! The room reeks of rotting vegetation. The numerous plant samples taken so long ago, have been subjected to all the rigors of their trek. Smashed and destroyed containers lay in ruins, the floor has become a solid mass of mold and fungus. The far wall is covered in ropey green vines that disappear into cracks. Patrick shines a bright light into the largest of these cracks, Cindy can see where vines have wrapped themselves around pipe work, and cracked it. Looking around, she can see the ventilation ducts in the area are all caked with multicolored fuzzy mold.

  Cindy stares at the area in disbelief. “I can’t believe that no one noticed this was going on.”

  Patrick shrugs his shoulders innocently. Cindy considers destroying everything immediately, but she knows she has to wait. The cure to their plight may well be in that room. She closes her eyes, and deliberates over what to do. After a few moments, she says, “We will leave this mess for now.”

  The pair arrives back at the medical area to see Henry doing something to the head of one of the patients. He jumps back in surprise. “Oh my! Do NOT come over here!”

  Cindy tilts her head, bewildered by Henry’s actions.

  Henry steps from behind the patient, removes his bloody gloves, and then puts a hand to his head.

  Looking at Cindy, he reports his grim findings. “The spores grow until they are too large to pass through the smaller blood vessels, where they become lodged. It is at this point that the spores send out tendrils into the surrounding tissue.” He hesitates for a second. “Our brains are full of tiny blood vessels.”

  Cindy’s jaw drops in horror. “So, if we don’t find a cure soon, we will all die?”

  Henry stares at Patrick. “Nope, we will have two survivors!” He nods at Patrick, and explains. “Those Gamin bodysuits have, I should say are, protecting them.”

  Cindy slumps down in a chair. “Can’t we all just do a stint in one of their suits?”

  Henry shakes his head. “No, the suits must be compatible with the wearer in order for their systems to work effectively.”

  Cindy stares at the beds, her mind kicking into high gear. “Who are those people?”

  Henry hands her a sheet of paper. As she runs her fingers down the list, she stops. “They work in the reactor rooms. All of them.”

  Henry frowns. “But, we’re all infected.”

  “Yes, but it’s the reactor workers who are showing the worst symptoms. The spores in their systems are growing faster.”

  Cindy stares at the beds for a moment, then turns to Patrick. “Evacuate all the reactor rooms, and bring everyone here.”

  The next few hours go by with neither Henry, nor Cindy, finding a solution. Four more patients die silently, their brains shutting down due to the heavy infiltration of spore tendrils. Cindy works on, her fear of falling asleep a genuine one. George and Patrick do their best to run the ship as more and more of the crew succumbs to the infectious nature of the spores. The bridge crew is the least effected, mostly because they are farthest away from the reactors. Another reason that crosses Cindy’s mind is the fact that they spend most of their time on duty, the remainder is spent sleeping, they hardly ever go elsewhere.

  Six more precious hours go by, and still there is no sign of a cure.

  Squelch!

  The disgusting sound causes Cindy and Henry stop what they are doing. They both look over at the row of beds with trepidation. Cindy glances nervously at Henry as he walks to the bed that was the source of the noise. Slowly, he slides the sheet back. The spores, having outgrown their confinements, have pushed the man’s eyes from their sockets. Adding to the ghoulish appearance, tendrils extend out from the victim’s ears as well.

  Three more people die while they continue to run around in circles. Cindy calls upon all of her experiences with germ warfare, but is at a loss. Henry slips and falls to the ground, his eyes flutter as he tries to speak before losing consciousness. “Ask the Gamin.”

  Cindy stares blankly at the far wall. How could I have overlooked that? She rushes as fast as she can to the bridge, aware of a building pressure in her head. She is shocked to find that George is the only one on duty. Staggering to her chair, sweat pouring down her
face, she gasps. “Get hold of the Gamin and ask them for help.”

  George stares at the disconnected console, and then looks back at Cindy. She has passed out in her chair, her breathing is becoming irregular. He stares at her with a mixture of fear and concern, and gets to work. Connecting the console takes a little time, even with his suit. He activates the Kord power cell to boost the unit’s range, and then sits back and waits for a response. His hopeful smile turns to a grim countenance as nothing happens. Neither Sharz, nor Regent Voknor contact him. With alarm, he realizes that he and Patrick are on their own. Think. Think!

  George shuts off the Kord power cell, walks over to his console and begins to make queries. It does not take him long to locate the Gamin’s massive data file on humanity. He diligently searches the information, looking for anything related to their predicament. Finding nothing, he looks around the bridge, totally defeated. In frustration, he slams his hands into the walls. His suit clangs loudly against the solid walls.

  In a sudden moment of clarity, the solution comes to him. George rushes to the infirmary, where he is appalled to discover dozens of lifeless bodies laying on beds. Many of these are literally sprouting vines. Grabbing a cloth, he runs it along one of the tendrils, hoping to capture a sampling of spores. Making his way to the heart of the ship’s life support system, he enters the small sealed room.

  “Well here goes nothing.” George says to himself, and then waves the cloth in front of an intake vent.

  The ship’s systems instantly respond to the threat. Even as George watches, the cloth develops brown splotches while the spores die. Walking back toward the medical area, he smiles optimistically at the faint mist which visibly hangs in the air. The entire ship is soon filled with this mist.

  Cindy opens her eyes slowly. A pounding headache is making her nauseous. Lifting a hand up to her head brings stars to her eyes. Suddenly George’s face is hovering over hers, she blinks as she tries to get his fuzzy features into focus.

  George is grinning from ear to ear as he says. “Relax, you’re okay. Henry has done every test he can, and you’re cured.”

  Cindy is too tired to even speak, she closes her heavy eyelids, and falls asleep.

  George looks around the room, his grin fades fast as he looks at the dozens of other unconscious patients.

  Henry catches his expression, and shrugs his shoulders as he states. “Some we saved, and some we couldn’t, as for the others. I don’t know what to do.”

  George’s eyes drift over to a group of people that sit or lay listlessly on their beds. Cured too late, they have suffered irreparable brain damage. Vacant eyes stare back at him over drooling lips. A number of the crew are alive this way, alive in the crudest of terms. Being almost brain dead, they will need constant care and supervision. Another sixteen, all reactor workers, did not survive at all. George can still see their faces as he and Patrick pushed them down the Terran’s open ramp, and into space.

  George leaves Henry to his duties then heads to his room, he has hardly slept these last few days. He falls into a listless sleep, as he recounts the nightmarish task of decontaminating the ship. Tossing and turning, his dreams take him back to the purging of every plant, and the contaminated dead, from the ship. Tossed out like common garbage, the image causes a single tear to escape his sleepy eyes.

  Down in the infirmary, Cindy wakes again. Her headache has subsided, but she feels parched. Spotting Henry makes her feel much calmer than before. “Can a girl get a drink around here?”

  Henry walks over with a cup. “Don’t worry, the water is clean, as indeed, is the entire ship. It took those two the better part of a week.”

  Cindy blinks in surprise at the lost time, and asks, “Tell me. What did I miss?”

  “First, I want to conduct some more tests, then we can have a general meeting with all the survivors.” Henry replies.

  “Survivors? How many died?” Cindy asks, alarmed at Henry’s choice of words. “Sixteen died, another seven are severely brain damaged.” He holds up a hand to calm her, “I want you to relax for now, I will explain all I know when everyone wakes.”

  Cindy, ever so slowly sits up in her bed. She gathers her thoughts and strength. Another two days pass before Henry is ready to share his findings. During this time, the remaining survivors wake to find the ship a much quieter place.

  Less than sixty crew are present in the mess hall, all are very subdued. Henry stands before them, his expression is unreadable. He begins his speech in a solemn tone. “To all of you gathered, I will allay any fears. You’re fully recovered. None of you show any signs of brain damage as none of you experienced the last phase of the spore’s life cycle. It occurs quite quickly, and with devastating results. Seven of our crew have miraculously survived this phase. I should say unfortunately survived, as they have very limited brain function.”

  Henry stops for a moment, to let them all absorb the news. Gazing around impassionedly, he then continues. “The spores have been eradicated from the ship, which still leaves us with the urgent need to restock our water supplies. In addition to our water issues, we are now down to canned foods only.”

  Henry pauses again, before reluctantly continuing on. “Cleansing the ship required that we run the Kord supplied power cell, nonstop, for days.” His eyes wander over all the crew as the ramifications of his last statement hit home.

  Cindy quickly interjects, before anyone else has a chance too. “To George, Patrick, and Henry, I thank you all for saving our lives. If the power cell runs out, then so be it. We’re alive and still a lot closer to home than we expected to be.”

  A few curt nods and murmurs of ascent trickle through the crowd.

  Cindy smiles as she continues. “Now, let’s find some water, and get back on our way.” While we still have a crew, she adds to herself grimly, as she scans the faces of her crew.

  Those gathered ask a few questions, which either Henry, George, or Patrick answer. The crew’s fears of the spores are soon allayed, allowing them all to turn their attention to more immediate concerns.

  Feeling extremely drained Cindy retires to her room to rest. Her thoughts drift to the many events that have reduced their impressive food supplies. The early loss of the refrigerated foods, and the more recent destruction of hydroponics reduced the crew’s food choices. As a final blow, the giant sacks of flour and rice were destroyed due to fear of contamination from the spores. Subsequently, the crew is now relegated to eating canned foods and military ration packs. Even with all of this on her mind, she falls asleep quickly and sleeps well.

  Water, Water Everywhere

  Cindy feels tremendously refreshed as she steps onto the bridge. Looking at the motionless specks of light on the main viewer, she can see that the ship is not moving. Gazing around, she is pleased to see the four main command chairs filled. John is at his station on the left, piloting the mighty Terran. On his right, sit Andrew and Joe, the two Australian astronomers. She smiles as she recalls some of their humorous anecdotes. The far right chair is occupied by Peter. Though he is a self-admitted Russian sleeper agent, he is a trusted companion. Glancing to the left, she sees Radclyf and Hayato quietly talking. Turning to her right, she cannot miss the bulky suit which encompasses George. Taking her centrally located command chair, she feels a renewed sense of pride. So much has happened, and yet through fate and fortune, the command crew is all safe. Watching them work, reflecting on each of them, she feels most fortunate. We’re going to make it home! The thought comes unbidden to her, and adds to her happy demeanor. John is looking away from her, obviously trying to hide a smile.

  Cindy wonders what he is up to, and curiously asks. “What do we have John?”

  John turns around and looks at Cindy. A broad grin spreads across his face as he replies. “We have a surprise for you.”

  Turning back to his controls, John taps his console. The stars rotate as the Terran slowly rolls. Cindy’s breath is drawn from her as an amazing world swings into view.

&nb
sp; Puffy white clouds partially obscure sparkling blue waters. Huge land masses are visible, and even from this distance, forests, rolling hills, and expansive fields, can be discerned.

  Andrew turns to Cindy, he too is grinning as he relays his findings. “This planet is almost Earth like in every way, except for its unusually low levels of metal elements, and lower gravity. The lack of metals may explain why the locals have few major settlements. They should not pose any threat to us at all. Their technology looks to be at a pre-industrial level.”

  Cindy frowns as she questions, “Locals?”

  John gets up from his chair, still grinning. “Let’s take the shuttle and check them out while we scout for a suitable water source.”

  “Agreed,” Cindy replies as she grabs her Kord translator.

  John’s eyebrows crease in surprise. “You want to talk to the natives?” He asks curiously.

  Cindy feels the best she has in a long time. “I have a great feeling about this planet.”

  Cindy hesitates, and then taps her chair’s console. “Emma, meet me at the shuttle, and bring your survey equipment.”

  The lone Gamin shuttle makes the hangar bay appear even larger than it is. The missing space shuttles, equipment, and stores, are a stark reminder of all they lost when the Effen Raiders attacked.

  Standing next to the open ramp are Paul, Henry, and two of Radclyf’s men, both armed to the teeth. Each carries a powerful rifle, a small backpack, and a number of holstered pistols. Cindy realizes that Paul is pretty darn handsome, she never noticed this before, even when he was on the bridge. She gazes at both men for longer than she means to, but is saved from embarrassment when Emma shows up. She has her own backpack, and lugs a heavy suitcase.

  Emma stops before them, puffing. Regaining her breath, she points to the gear. “We lost almost everything when the raiders attacked. But I still have my old portable set.” She smiles proudly.

  Cindy’s eyebrows raise. That’s her portable set! It’s huge. She grins as she says. “Let’s get the show on the road.”