The Alpha Choice

by M. D. Hall

  Ω

  Returning to his quarters, Gorn monitored the response of the Avatar to his meeting with Trang. As hoped, the conversation had been promptly reported to Garnoth, who was amused that Darl expected to undermine his investigation with his own amateurish efforts. He played back the conversation as recorded by the Avatar.

  ‘Shall I continue to monitor the young officers?’

  ‘Do you seriously think they will uncover anything that will escape our attention?’ Garnoth asked, incredulously.

  ‘Need I remind you,’ his machine double replied, ‘notwithstanding my capabilities, and your experience, we cannot discount the possibility that, by pure chance, they may stumble upon something that will assist us. It is unlikely they would recognise the value of any such intelligence, but we ignore this resource at your peril.’

  The spymaster looked at his mirror image for some long moments before replying. ‘Very well, minimal monitoring, and nothing more,’ the reflection inclined its head in acknowledgement.

  The bait had been taken. Each time the Avatar monitored Gorn's systems for information to assist its master, a stealth routine would run. There would be no major incursions, merely unnoticeable alterations in its programming. The machine would remain wholly unaware of what was happening. Of course, it would have been almost impossible had Gorn been subject to the same level of scrutiny as everyone else on the ship, but thanks to Garnoth, it was no longer a problem.

  Day by day the complex artificial brain, that was the core of the Avatar’s being, would be compromised. By the time they reached the target, the machine would do whatever he required of it, without being aware of what it was doing, and at whose behest. Its ignorance was perhaps, no bad thing as Gorn had already decided what his failsafe would be. As soon as Quasar and Horizon arrived, and if no alternative presented itself, he would have the Avatar take control of Eclipse, and fire upon Telluria. He had pinpointed a remote area as the target, to keep loss of life to a minimum, but there would need to be some loss of Tellurian life, if the Custodians were to be provoked.

  He hoped for an alternative, knowing it to be unlikely. The deep down hollow feeling, overwhelmed any thoughts of danger or Trang, for a little while.

  Ω

  Three days following the unannounced arrival of Garnoth, with all pre-transit checks satisfactory, the mighty ship began her portentous journey.

  Weft drive was dangerous to nearby planets, at the moment of activation, and protocol demanded the strictest safety precautions. Eclipse manoeuvred away from Te’ath at sub weft speed until it was ninety-million miles from the Te’an home world, allowing for a more than comfortable safety margin.

  With a last look at Te’ath, Darl gave the order to activate the drive. After a few seconds, Eclipse glowed white, with the space surrounding her taking on the appearance of gelatinous liquid, then the warship disappeared. An observer viewing the event in slow motion would see the space around the ship distorting and rippling, as though stirred; the white glow expanding about six metres beyond the hull, then the huge glowing shape shrinking rapidly to nothing, as space returned to normal.

  In the early days of weft drive development, it was noted the effect of activation upon surrounding objects could be devastating. Adjacent space-time became unstable to the extent that anything, within thirty light seconds, was utterly destroyed. The initial manned observation ships were lost before it was decided to use unmanned probes. Other than the original losses, it had eventually proved to be an efficient, and safe method of travel. Unlike traditional methods of hyperspace travel, which were much slower, the Weft presented a much more challenging perspective. For a start the weft was far more than a narrow tunnel through space, seeming to continue unending, in all directions. The possibilities like the weft itself, promised to be endless.

  Likewise, the view of weft space was unusual. It was a uniform deep violet, with occasional flashes of indigo, which no-one was able to fathom. Different speculative theories abounded, the most popular being, other ships in transit, or a form of life existing solely within this part of space. At their current level of technology - the immediate consequence of becoming stationary within the Weft was to enter normal space - it was impossible to verify any hypothesis. When he finished his precocious paper on weft drive augmentation, Gorn decided he would, sometime in the future, revisit the larger questions posed by the Weft.

  Even though the drive had the effect of cutting through normal space, the journey of seven and a half thousand light years would still take three weeks.

  In the early days of weft travel, there were concerns as to possible collisions, which were soon laid to rest when reports from probes showed that all powers of navigation remained unaltered. More importantly, sensors were capable of traversing the entire length of the Weft to their exit point. If any object, ventured into a ship’s path, timely evasive action could be taken.

  Fears had had also been voiced, as to what would occur when leaving weft space. The most commonly held concern was exiting the Weft inside a star or planet, particularly as most journeys were into populated star systems. It was soon noted that sensor range could be extended beyond the exit point, to a range of two hundred and forty-million kilometres. The fretful voices were stilled.

  Even if the remnants of a supernova, or the event horizon of a black hole existed beyond sensor range, it would still be possible to pick up the warning signs necessary to recalibrate the exit.

  Time spent within the Weft was, in the main, humdrum; the most pressing thing to vex the mind of a ship’s commander was preventing his crew from becoming bored. In the case of one crew member, there was more than enough to keep him engrossed.

  Ω

  Gorn's meetings with Narol were, for the most part, straightforward. She maintained her distance, as clearly witnessed by her staff, one of whom would be reporting back to Darl. Gorn knew all movements by senior officers were also being carefully scrutinised by Garnoth and his Avatar.

  During this time with Narol he learned nothing more about her, and this troubled him. She had played her hand well, establishing a reason for the commander to throw the two of them together, but even Darl would expect to see some thawing in her manner. Yet nothing in what she said, or did assuaged his earlier misgivings. As a consequence, he conveyed little to her, save an implicit reassurance he was ready, for when his opportunity arose.

  As the weeks passed he could vaguely sense in Narol, a steadily growing frustration at the lack of specific intelligence concerning his plans, and while there was no reason not to divulge those details, he felt, rather than thought, that the less he told her, the better. Unfortunately, he could not keep his progress on the Alpha Wave from her.

  Soon after boarding, he discovered most of what he needed to know about the Wave, and as his knowledge grew, so did his fear. He knew what it was, and what it could do. Narol had been right, it had taken almost three thousand years to develop, and was instrumental in the decision of the Council to move against Telluria. If the subterfuge failed and the Custodians intervened, they would be destroyed. The Wave needed to be activated from three points in space, hence the presence of the three warships, where more than one would be overkill against the Tellurians.

  When in just the right position, each ship would emit a cascading subsidiary wave, activating the Alpha Wave only when all three converged. There would be a disruption of space-time on the elementary particle level, resulting in the target, any target ceasing to exist. There had been concern expressed over the effectiveness of the weapon against the Custodians. Exhaustive analysis of their first encounter showed conclusively, that their downfall at Khitaa was brought about by a creature of pure energy. How could any weapon destroy them? The question was a reasonable one, they certainly did not want to be in the position of poking another stick at such a dangerous foe.

  The doubts prompted exhaustive tests on the micro level, and eventually, even the most sceptical of the Council were convinced that nothing, not even the
Custodians, could survive the Wave. The Council had not, as far as Gorn could tell from the records of their meetings, considered the ultimate consequence of deploying the Wave against a single Custodian. There were bound to be others. How would they react to one of their own being destroyed?

  Once Gorn had set in motion his strategy involving the Avatar, he found time to complete his analysis of the science behind the Wave, to the smallest detail. It was flawed. He had no doubt the Council’s desired objective would be achieved, but he noted all experimentation had been on a much smaller scale than what would be unleashed above Telluria. His calculations revealed certain reactions when the Wave was executed on a scale, beyond the controlled experiments. If the disruption exceeded an optimum size - and what was planned, most certainly qualified – it would continue as a secondary wave, in an omnidirectional cascade from its point of origin, overtaking the ships in one direction, and Telluria with its moon, in another.

  He had reworked his calculations many times, and on each occasion the result was the same, the ships would not have enough time to escape the secondary wave.

  Of course, the secondary wave would not be a problem once he carried out his orders from Narol, and disabled the weapon…except he could not disable it! The Wave needed input from all three ships. Initially, he anticipated this would make his job easy, but soon discovered it had the opposite effect. The engineers who designed the Wave built in safeguards and backups. The systems inextricably linked the three ships, and no matter which way he analysed the data he returned to the same conclusion: unless he had unfettered access to the systems of Eclipse’s sister ships, the Wave would deploy. He had the Avatar run every possible scenario, and on each occasion, the attempts to subvert the systems on the other ships, failed. His only chance was to convince Darl of the intrinsic flaw in the Wave.

  Ω

  When they entered weft space, Gorn knew what he needed to do. By the time they left, everything was in place. Once they arrived he would, through the Avatar, monitor what was taking place on Telluria. He needed to be alert to any opportunities that presented themselves, despite being convinced there was only one solution, and not one he relished.

  The final part of his plan needed a buffer. He had searched through all the ship’s databases, as well as the more secretive files kept by the Avatar. He needed someone, in a senior position, someone whose integrity was beyond question, and who would not hesitate to do the right thing.

  There was only one person who fitted the description perfectly, Kirion. The XO was blissfully unaware that he was Gorn’s escape route.

  Ω

  Now they had entered the Weft, she would not be needed for several hours, at least. Ensconced in the small room that had become her inner sanctum, Narol could be alone with her thoughts, and today she particularly needed the seclusion. Not for the first time, she found herself questioning her chosen path. When these thoughts, these unwelcome guests arrived, the same scenario unfolded. It did not matter that the outcome had always been the same, and would always remain the same, she would have no respite until the last detail played itself out. Only then, having purged the ghosts, could she return to her version of normality.

  A non military advisor, her expertise lay in assimilating and analysing all data, concerning the cultural riches of civilisations soon to be consigned to oblivion. Anything she considered worthwhile, was to be preserved before the destruction began. No stranger to the task, she had yet to perform her role from the rarified position of a flagship. For more years than she cared to remember, she had clinically carried out her duties while serving with Darl aboard a sweeper. It was the perfect way to ensure she was above, and beyond any suspicion of disloyalty. No one, Darl included, would ever suspect what thoughts coursed through her mind, the very thoughts that had been her companions since she was a girl. The latest in a long familial line of subversives, harbouring an all-consuming passion, to resist the inexorable hunger of their race to conquer, assimilate and ultimately, destroy.

  Many generations earlier, when the architects of her group anticipated an early change to the Te'an way of life, they considered themselves the vanguard of a rebellion. Over time, even the most fervent amongst them saw their anticipation diminish to hope, before fading to duty. After millennia of inaction, any reference to rebellion seemed inappropriate, but neither could they accept being mere insurgents, it was just too…crude, and so the term Vanguard took hold, but only within the group.

  The Council’s opinion on the Vanguard’s very existence was divided, on the rare occasions when it was considered at all. Most members took the view that if the rebels were anything more than a figment, they had achieved little, or nothing in almost three thousand years. This inaction, over such a prolonged period, always led them to conclude that the argument was fatuous: for all their accomplishments, the rebels may as well not exist.

  Narol’s ancestors maintained the pretence of ardent support for expansionism while, at the same time, doing their utmost to undermine the, seemingly unstoppable, wave of conquest. Whilst they knew their efforts made little difference, they also knew it was vital to maintain an unbroken, invisible opposition. They fervently believed that one day an opportunity would arise, validating their sacrifices, and it mattered little whether it was in their lifetime.

  Her background was one of privilege. As a girl, she and her younger brother were brought up by their parents to view all life as precious. Slowly, but surely they became aware of the falsehoods perpetrated by the Council. As she grew older, she was introduced to other families from a similar social background, and when her parents considered the time was right, both she and her brother were shown evidence contradicting all perceived wisdom concerning the defence of their civilisation, and the true nature of their enemies.

  Becoming an active member of the Vanguard, rather than a passive observer or sympathiser, was not difficult when your closest friends and family are part of that circle. It was harder not to be drawn in. Initially, the teenage Narol thought involvement in the movement was chic, after all, she and her friends still wore stylish clothes, and went on fashionable holidays. They belonged to a clique within a society where everyone was privileged, but like most societies, even the most affluent, some members are more privileged than others.

  As she enjoyed the usual trappings of privilege, so she initially considered this exclusive group merely another benefit. In her early years, despite espousing the aims and aspirations of the cause, she treated her obligations with the same indifference as her clothes, and holidays. Time changes many things and, one by one the trappings became meaningless, falling by the wayside as they were supplanted by an all consuming desire, to put things right.

  By the time she was fully committed to the Vanguard, Narol knew it had created an organisation, surpassing even the Agency in its complexity but, unlike its enemy, achieving nothing of note. Where all of her contemporaries were content to adhere to its precepts, taking a purely philosophical stance, she needed more, and was not content that her activities would never go beyond privately expressed fervour and outrage.

  Looking around her room, she tried again to recall the moment when nothing else, and no one else was as important as the cause, and once again was forced to concede defeat. Her assimilation was slow; there was a long time when part of her old, carefree self remained, but an even longer time since it had withered to nothing.

  In direct contrast to her path, Zaran did not join the Vanguard. Like his sister, he was a thinker, but unlike her, his physical prowess led his parents and tutors to think he might become a warrior. Much to their surprise, he chose a more peaceful life - Narol did not share their parents’ sense of bewilderment. Not only were they nonplussed by his choice, they were disappointed, their hopes to have a sympathiser within the much-vaunted service, dashed. In time, he would have been party to vital intelligence, which could have been used to further the cause. Unfortunately, he not only rejected their plans for him, but also espoused the view that
outspoken opposition was preferable to standing by for thousands of years, awaiting an opportunity that may never arise, while billions died. He was oblivious to the consequences.

  Narol was very close to her brother, and was pleased he did not enter the service. Just as she knew her own destiny, she knew military life would have made him deeply unhappy. She did, however, decide that one of them would infiltrate the stronghold of the enemy and obtain desperately needed intelligence.

  For generations beyond counting, entire families had become part of the Vanguard. A child born to such a family was destined to become part of this tireless cause, even if only on the periphery, as happened to most of her friends. This placed an immense burden on the lives of those involved; some deliberately chose not to have children, and with their passing, that branch of the familial line, and its involvement, was at an end. Such desperate decisions were understandable. The selfless questing for knowledge and intelligence to frustrate and, ultimately, end Te’an conquest appeared unending, while the expansion of Te’an dominion had never once been halted.

  Naturally, with succeeding generations, the branches of the original families grew ever more numerous. To the outside world, it appeared nothing more than a close association of the highly privileged. For fear of treachery from outsiders, the group had never expanded beyond the original families. It was a fundamental concept that none, outside the group, could be trusted. By his action, Zaran became an outsider, one with knowledge of the Vanguard’s existence.

  Years later, when Narol had risen within the ranks of the Vanguard she learned that the most senior members of the group, known as the Assembly, which included her father, had considered killing Zaran. Her father reasoned that a single misplaced word could risk all they, and their ancestors, had striven towards. Her initial reaction was fury at the Assembly being no better than those they sought to stop. She reminded herself, not for the first time, that no one had previously left the movement, or refused to join it, and it was not unreasonable to balance the life of an innocent and well-meaning individual, against countless others. In the end, they decided to spare her brother, on the strict understanding he promised never to reveal their existence, or disseminate his views abroad - a concession their enemies would never make.