Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

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Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 85

by James Jackson


  John nods his head in agreement. Peter suddenly experiences a strange feeling, one he has not felt in a very long time. He glances at Emma, deep concern for her showing on his face. His lips quiver as he wants to speak, but his years of training stop him. Be professional, he chastises himself, she will be just fine.

  Cindy catches Peter’s expression, and is stunned, the man can kill without hesitation, and yet here he is, with his Achilles’ heel exposed. She turns away, then purses her lips as she considers what to do. Without even turning around, she adds, as if it were an afterthought, “Peter, I want you to lead a security detail for the survey team’s protection, not that I am expecting trouble, but let’s cover all bases.”

  John turns to Peter, and with a smile on his face, gives him a supportive thumbs-up, thinking, I can only imagine what would happen to anyone, or anything, that hurt Emma. Damn, he has it bad. John turns back to his console, then taps a few controls, and says, “Heading back to the Terran.”

  Once back on the bridge and seated, Cindy taps the internal communications symbol on her console, “Attention all crew. Today we found a possible site for a major settlement. I want all department heads to meet me in the mess hall in fifteen minutes.”

  George disconnects his suit from his wall console, then catches Cindy before she can leave. “The roving damage control parties have found some minor buckling in the forward section.” When Cindy fails to respond, he adds, “Those teams are proving to be quite effective, because according to the ship’s systems, everything is fine.”

  Finally, Cindy nods, then simply says, “Excellent.” She then turns her gaze to the rest of the bridge crew, “Now, who wants to come with me to the mess hall?”

  George frowns, doesn’t she get it? The repair work done to the ship after the nukes, is not holding up. He ponders her blasé reaction, then smiles. She trusts her bridge crew, truly trusts us.

  Hundreds of noisy people are crammed into the mess hall, including many sightseers. Cindy makes her way to the middle of the room, then stands on chair to gain some height. She gazes at the throng of people; their excited chatter is quite loud in the crowded room. She lifts her hands in the air, and signals for silence, but the noise continues.

  A few minutes later a loud, deep voice pierces the air, “Listen up people!” The room goes quiet almost immediately because of the power behind General Walker’s words. He then turns to Cindy, “The room is all yours, Admiral.” She stares at him for a few seconds, while her mind reels, I had forgotten that he was on board, he must have kept out of sight, and out of mind, apparently.

  Breaking from her thoughts, she gazes at those assembled, “There are dangers on this world, and I am sure we did not find them all the last time we were here.” She stops, then stares at the eager faces before her, letting her words sink in before continuing on. “Emma will be in charge of all survey missions, and it will be on her authority only, as to who will be going planet-side, and when.” She holds a hand up to quell the mild murmurs that instantly begin. When the room is quiet once more, she says, “The people back on Earth have assigned this planet a name. But,” she gazes at the crowd, making eye contact with many of them. Taking a deep breath, she continues, “early settlers and explorers have always named their discoveries, and my crew has earned the right to name this planet whatever they want. They paid for it in blood, while those back home just sat behind their desks, safe and sound.” She pauses again, and with a loud and upbeat voice says, “This planet is called New Earth, and it will be our new home, and our new hope.”

  The crowd cheers, a few begin to clap, then a few more, soon the entire assembly is heartily clapping. Everyone becomes energized as they look forward to being a part of this historic event.

  Cindy waits a few more minutes before she holds up her hand once more. When the room is quiet, she finishes her speech, “General Walker, Barbara, and Patrick, join me on the bridge. The rest of you, sit tight, and get ready for some hard work.”

  While the crowd in the mess hall begins to dwindle, General Walker shakes his head, dismayed by the lack of discipline on the ship. Cindy had said department heads, and yet she did nothing about all the people that should not have been here. He sighs, then makes his way to the bridge, musing, why we didn’t meet there in the first place baffles me.

  Walker is the last to arrive at the bridge, and once again, the number of people present surprises him. He slowly steps into the room, and immediately notices the large view screen. A planet occupies its lower portion, while stars fill the void. He takes his eyes off the scene, then scrutinizes everyone. Cindy sits comfortably in the large, centrally placed command chair. He notes that it is on a raised dais, and overlooks the rest of the room. The four chairs before it, each with alien looking consoles, are occupied. He mentally checks off those seated, John their pilot, Joe the engineer, Peter the... now, what does he really do? Walker’s gaze falls upon the last chair on the right, ah, Emma the planetologist. Gazing to the far left, he nods to Radclyf and Hayato, then frowns in annoyance. The two soldiers do not stand, nor do they salute. Casting his gaze to the right, he spots Lisa, George’s wife, and their young boy, what the blazes is going on here? A child at a bridge meeting! Is this some kind of joke? Turning farther to the right, his eyes narrow when he recognizes a Gamin bodysuit. Its visor is up, revealing George’s grinning face. Patrick stands behind George, and is almost hidden by the suit’s bulk. Swinging his gaze over to the far left, he spots Barbara, then nods to her. Noticing that there is room for him between her and Radclyf, he walks over and stands there. His face is a stern mask, as he controls his building irritation at the casual way the ship is being run. He simply says, “Admiral,” while he stares back at her intense gaze.

  Cindy has also been carefully observing, and once Walker is facing her, she directs a strong-minded statement his way. “I don’t stand on ceremony General, in fact you may refer to me as Cindy, or ma’am. We don’t waste time on salutes, or pomp, we just do our jobs here.”

  Walker shakes his head in disagreement, “A well run ship requires an established chain of command, and this,” he waves his arm across the room, motioning toward Lisa and Johnny, “is not it.”

  Cindy purses her lips, then responds, “Your job, is planetary security, mine is this ship.” She glances at George, and says, “Well, he’s your pick, you deal with him.”

  Walker frowns in confusion, “What do you mean, George’s pick?”

  George takes one step toward the General, then says, “I want you here, because I believe that you’re made of the right stuff.” He smiles, then motions to the stars, “You really have no idea what’s going on out there, and we may need people like you one day.”

  Walker glances at the screen, his frown deepens, “So what did you folks skip in your reports?”

  George glances at the bridge crew, then replies, “There is a war going on between a number space faring civilizations, one that has been waged for thousands of years.”

  Walker shakes his head and sighs, “I gathered that from your statements.”

  George continues, unfazed by the interruption, “The Gamin are losing, and the Kord seem to be fairing no better.”

  Walker motions to the window, “But that’s all happening tens of thousands of light years away. Besides, what are we to do about their conflict? It doesn’t concern us, so we should just stay out of it.”

  George shakes his head, “My parents fled Europe because of its wars. They went to America, thinking it was safe, it was not. General, we can’t bury our heads in the sand, and hope we won’t be affected.” He stares at Walker for a few seconds, then says softly, “We’re already involved in this interstellar war, we just don’t know it yet.”

  Walker frowns at the odd statement, “What do you mean, we don’t know it yet?”

  Noticing that tensions on the bridge are building, Peter stands up, then adds his thoughts. “General, you say that we should stay out of it, while at the same time, we’re standing in a
n alien spaceship born of the very same conflict!”

  The General is about to respond, when a chill runs through his body. His jaw slackens, “You’re right, we’re already caught up in it.”

  George steps from his suit, then walks over to the General, “We became involved, the minute the Gamin chose our planet for their fleet’s repair and resupply.”

  Radclyf looks up from his chair, catches the General’s eye, and nods respectfully. Hayato smiles at the silent gesture, as it is his way, more than his friends.

  The mood on the bridge swings back to a more relaxed one, allowing Cindy to focus on the task at hand. “Okay everyone, let’s get down to business.” She looks around the bridge, until she has everyone’s undivided attention. She has been considering her options for quite a while now, which allows her orders to flow easily and confidently. “Emma, select a ground survey team. Initially, I only want one team on the planet at a time. Even then, we will make sure there are at least three shuttles circling at all times, keeping a careful lookout for wolf-cats.” She turns to Barbara, “I want you to go with the initial team. We need to determine where we can set up the first ground based radio telescope. While you’re on the planet, we will begin to lay our satellites in orbit.”

  Walker’s head snaps up at her words. Cindy smiles at him, “No, they are not Gamin satellites, but they are powered by the same solar panel technology.” Cindy then turns to Joe, “Feel free to test the Gamin communications module anytime you want.”

  Patrick nervously shifts his weight from one foot to another as he waits to find out why he was included in this meeting. Finally, Cindy turns her attention to him, “Patrick, you are also to go with the initial survey team. I want you to determine the best location for the wind generators we brought with us.”

  George glances around, slightly befuddled, being left out is not something he is used to. Cindy smiles at George, “And you sir, can spend time with your family, ‘cause once we get started, I don’t think you’re going to get a break.”

  Early Days

  Emma steps nervously from the shuttle, her nerves are not from fear, but more from the excitement of the days ahead. She takes a deep breath of the planet’s cool, dry, air, and relishes in its freshness. She, like the rest of her crew, wears a light jacket, long pants, and heavy duty boots. They carry small backpacks filled with a variety of items that each person deems essential.

  Feeling the slight warmth from the sun, Emma looks up, and smiles, could almost be on Earth, she thinks, hmm, except for the two moons in the sky. She stares intently at the space between the moons, and imagines that she can see the Terran.

  Peter steps from the shuttle, then looks around cautiously. The knee high grass, though sparse, could easily conceal all kinds of dangers. He stands still, listening and looking, his senses fully alert. He casts his gaze upon the outlying tree line, then toward the distant mountains. Though he can hear the river flowing nearby, he cannot see it through the grass.

  Emma breaks Peter’s focus, “Hey, relax will you, it’s not like we haven’t been here before.”

  Peter suddenly realizes that other members of the survey team have been walking around him, offloading equipment, while he blocks the base of the shuttle’s ramp. He offers Emma a sheepish smile, and assists with the unloading. Stepping from the shuttle with a case in each hand, he stops, then watches Emma, Barbara, and Patrick, as they point toward the distant mountain peaks. A swelling of pride fills his chest when his eyes fall upon Emma.

  A small team of planetologists gathers soil, air, and water samples, while yet another group focuses on cataloguing the nearby plant life. Additional shuttles fly in ever expanding circles around the ship on the ground, keeping the ground teams in sight at all times. These small handpicked groups of specialists are but a fraction of the one hundred-twenty people in Emma’s crew.

  As the hours tick by, it becomes clearer and clearer that this area between the mountain peaks, is an oasis. There are no buffalo like creatures, nor wolf-cats, though the pilots circling above do report signs of animal life.

  Peter walks a short distance, then stops, the knee-high grass brushes against his calves. Standing perfectly still, he listens and watches once again. A few minutes pass by before he hears, then begins to see, the smaller life forms he expected to find. Small bugs fly back and forth from one grass stem to another. One lands on his shoulder, its dark color a stark contrast to his light tan shirt. He stares at the small insect-like creature curiously. Its body consists of two segments, the lower one has a half dozen legs, along with a pair of flimsy looking wings. The forward section has four legs and a small spike which begins to protrude from its mouth area. He quickly flicks the bug away, thinking, damn blood suckers, then swats at two more that land on his legs. Something slides through the nearby grass, heading away from him. He peers intently in the direction of the noise, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it is. Eventually the noise is gone, leaving Peter alone with the small flying bugs.

  The hours turn into days as each plant, insect, and animal, is categorized. The nearby forests have the same monkey-like, tree climbing animals as those near the original camp, while strange birds that defy capture, fly overhead. Emma has been so busy working, she has had little chance to do any real exploring herself, much to her disappointment.

  During these early days, most of the Terran’s crew stays on board under strict orders from Cindy. George takes advantage of his unexpected downtime, and spends it with his family.

  Johnny looks up from his pancakes and once again begs his parents, “Please, just let me go down to the planet and look.”

  George glances at his wife, then replies, “Son, I can’t.”

  Johnny pleads, “C’mon, I know if you ask, it’ll be okay”

  George smiles at Johnny, “Not until the scientists say it’s safe.”

  Lisa has been wondering about the unexpected precautions herself, “Why the fuss? You guys practically lived here, and for a lot longer than a few days.”

  George was not expecting his wife to question Cindy’s orders, but he responds, “We stayed in a different area, where there is less moisture, and the grass is not as tall. This new site also has a lot of insect life we didn’t encounter last time.” He looks down at his plate, and does not mention Emma’s real concern. Those spores that nearly killed us, came from somewhere. All bets are on the planet we’ve named Tropicanus being the source, but Emma doesn’t want to take any chances.

  Lisa frowns, she knows George is hiding something, but assumes he is being quiet because Johnny is with them. She catches George’s eye, and smiles, the all-knowing smile that says, we will talk later!

  George nods, then ruffles Johnny’s hair, “Do you want to mess around in the zero-g room for a while?”

  Johnny can’t believe his luck, “Wow, for sure,” he replies.

  After the two of them leave, Lisa sits alone for a while. Exasperated with doing nothing, she heads off to find Cindy, she wants some answers. Lisa finds her on the bridge, sitting in the command chair, and strides up to her.

  Cindy looks up, and asks curiously, “Lisa, what can I do for you?”

  Lisa surprises her when she responds with all seriousness, “When are we going down to planet?” Her outburst continues unabated, “We have been sitting here in orbit for days!”

  Cindy stares at Lisa for a few minutes, while she decides what to say. She chews on her lip for a few seconds, then responds cautiously, “Last time, we found our analysis equipment insufficient for the task at hand,” she smiles warmly at Lisa, hoping to disarm her frustration, “This time though, we knew exactly what to bring, and I am going to let the specialists have all the time they need.”

  Lisa sighs, then turns her gaze out the main view, “I’m bored, and with my two children playing in that zero-g room, I have nothing to do, that’s all.”

  Cindy stands next to Lisa, and smiles at her referring to George as one of her children. She puts a supportive hand on Lisa’s
shoulder, “I know, but we all have to...”

  The bridge speakers crackle to life, interrupting the two women, “Cindy, I need you in medical. Now!” Henry’s voice sounds both urgent, and alarmed.

  Lisa and Cindy turn to each other, both feel a chill run through their bodies.

  New Earth, New Dangers

  The flu-like illness spreads quickly throughout the ship, passing from person to person with alarming rapidity. Emma and Henry are overwhelmed, as is the entire scientific and medical staff. Cindy’s history of genetics comes in handy, until she too, falls prey to the debilitating condition. Hundreds of people lay on their beds, and although no one has died, yet, they all exhibit similar symptoms. Elevated temperatures, hot and cold sweats, fluid build-up in the victim’s lungs, and lastly, dysentery. A ship wide quarantine goes into effect, but it’s too late. New cases are reported hourly, from all areas of the ship, including Lisa who now lies on her bunk, drenched in sweat. George does his best to care for her while he diligently watches Johnny for any symptoms.

  Down in the medical bay, things are getting worse, doctors and nurses quickly fall prey to the illness. Henry takes his eyes off Cindy, who lies on one of the few beds in the medical bay, then stares into his microscope one more time. His vision begins to fade, and his legs threaten to buckle beneath him. He shakes his head, then weakly calls out to Emma, “I don’t get it, you and Peter both show signs of infection, and yet you’re unaffected, while others are bed ridden from the briefest of contacts.”

  Peter sits nearby, healthy, and yet he is covered in little red bumps where the flying bugs have landed and pricked his skin. He shrugs his shoulders as yet another nurse checks his temperature, blood pressure, and then takes a fresh blood sample. He says with an exasperated tone, “I keep telling you, this is not a virus, it’s more like a disease, like malaria.”

 

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