by Selby, Caleb
“You’re right,” Searle said.
Fedrin looked at Searle compassionately and then shook his head. “I’ll allow two shuttles from your ship to stay behind and search the debris, but that’s it. Have them ready to launch in five minutes and be sure they have provisions enough to last several days.”
Searle’s face brightened a little. “Thank you Fedrin,” she said as more tears flowed. “Thank you.”
“I know it’s not much but it’s all I can give.”
Searle nodded and terminated the tele-link.
Fedrin breathed out deeply, rose to his feet and walked back to his bridge.
“You doing ok?” Tarkin asked Fedrin as the two met outside the bridge.
“I’ve been better Tarkin,” Fedrin answered honesty. “You?”
“No complaints,” Tarkin replied.
“You off tonight?” Fedrin asked.
Tarkin nodded. “I’ve been up here for the last fifteen hours. I’m exhausted.”
“Get some rest,” Fedrin said, leaving Tarkin and going into the bridge. “You’ve earned it.”
“We are going to pass very near my home world in a few hours,” Tarkin said with excitement in his voice. “I’m going to stay up and watch for it.”
Fedrin smiled. “What ever makes you happy Tarkin.”
Tarkin saluted Fedrin then turned and walked down the hallway.
“We’ll have to slow down if we are going to search the area,” Kesler spoke up upon seeing the Admiral step on the bridge.
“Shall I give the order?” Gallo asked after Fedrin didn’t respond.
“We aren’t staying,” Fedrin said as he sat down in his chair.
The entire bridge turned to look at him in shock as if he had just somehow betrayed them.
“Begging your pardon, Sir,” Jonas spoke up. “But our instruments can’t scan every crevice of all the ships. There could be survivors in air pockets all over.”
“I am leaving two of the Revenge’s shuttles behind to sift through the wreckage,” Fedrin answered. “That’s it.”
“But the capital ships have stronger scanning instruments, Sir,” Ensign Gallo quietly said. “They may find survivors that the shuttles can’t.”
“That’s true,” Kesler added. “Wouldn’t it be...”
“This is not a discussion,” Fedrin abruptly stated. “We are not on a search and rescue mission. Now please take us out of here Lieutenant, best possible speed.”
“Aye, Sir,” Kesler quietly answered.
19. Sucked Dry
“So what is this Codex?” Darion asked casually. “Is it really worth risking all our lives?”
“Not sure,” answered Reesa.
“About which part?” asked Darion.
“Both,” she replied.
Darion shook his head in frustration.
“The answers will come in time,” said Kebbs reassuringly.
“Maybe sooner than you think,” whispered Reesa after the trio crossed another street. “There it is.”
The three companions looked up and down the long empty street. Rows of shops, boutiques, cafes, markets and salons filled the ground levels of the high-rise towers on either side. Many of the buildings had smashed windows and ransacked storefronts while others had bars and gates covering their wares and protecting their shops. Nestled between a quaint lor shop and chic hair salon directly across from the trio stood a nondescript looking office. It had two frosted windows flanking a plain wooden door with the title “Municipal Clerk” etched into a small plaque in the center. It was the sort of place that one could easily walk by on a daily basis for thirty years and never know existed. It bore no striking colors or flashy signs. Its architecture was bland. Everything about the place made it look dull and uninviting...just the way a secret military archive stash should look.
Darion looked at the place curiously and then glanced at Reesa who was busy studying the street and the darkened windows all around for signs of aggression.
“How did you ever find the place?” he whispered in bewilderment. “How did you even know to look for it?”
Reesa paused before answering. “The fire that destroyed the Defense Complex was no accident,” she said intently. “It was theorized by some, Professor Jabel included, leading up to the event that someone was making a concerted effort to locate and presumably steal a number of manuscripts from a secured archive within the complex. In a very daring move that bypassed a host of standard protocols, the targeted archives were moved several weeks before the fire to a series of safe houses.
Kebbs pointed across the street. “And this one has what we want. This one has the Origin Codex.”
“And it’s your show now,” added Reesa as she glanced at Darion. “There is a single occupant, biometric lockdown on the facility so you have to go in alone. Once inside you’ll be challenged by an automated system.”
“What will it ask me?”
Reesa looked at Kebbs who smiled and shook his head.
“No clue,” replied Reesa as she faced Darion again. “All we know is that you need a level four clearance to gain admittance, and you do. What it asks you once inside I haven’t a clue. I tried to find out but couldn’t.”
Darion nodded in disbelief. “Maybe a dumb question but has anyone thought that this thing might just be a trap for whoever tried to get the Codex last year?”
“I asked Jabel the same question,” Kebbs said. “He said it was safe.”
“Ah, but I don’t know Jabel,” protested Darion.
“But we both do,” said Reesa. “We trust him with our lives.”
“Its not your life I’m worried about at this moment,” Darion grumbled.
“No one is making you do this,” Kebbs said.
“Yes we are!” Reesa snapped. “Stop making excuses and go! We don’t have time to mess around. The Krohns are on their way!”
Darion exhaled hard, shrugged and then turned to face the bland building that supposedly held one of the greatest secrets on the planet. He took an uneasy step toward the building when Reesa thrust something into his hand.
“Take these,” she said, handing Darion a pair of solar glasses. “Jabel said you might need them.”
Darion glanced at Reesa curiously as he took the glasses. As always, he had questions but, for once, he held back. What was the point? There were no answers.
The walk across the street was quiet. It was somewhat reassuring knowing Reesa and Kebbs were behind him with drawn weapons but the thousands of windows and alcoves above and around him did their part to unnerve him just the same. He reached the door and after seeing no other options available to him, took firm hold of the handle and pulled it open. He turned around and gave a quick wave to his compatriots before strolling inside.
The room Darion found himself in was not what he was expecting. Instead of an imposing security system and an array of aggressive automated protocols, the room was warm and inviting and much larger than he had guessed from seeing it outside. Bookshelves, filled beyond capacity with books and papers, lined all three walls from floor to ceiling. A single ladder was fixed on each of the walls with levitator pads to allow access to volumes out of reach from the floor.
Many of the books appeared incredibly old and used, their golden titles all but faded away and the leather covers faded and frayed. Others seemed to be quite new, their spines crisp and straight and their wording bright and fresh.
In the center of the room were two warn but well maintained high back leather chairs situated comfortably on a large braided rug. The chairs sat partly facing each other with a small table between them, which was also stacked with books. There was a small desk with an accompanying chair situated in one corner but from the looks of it, it hadn’t been touched in years. Books were stacked in piles ten deep over the desk’s surface and the chair itself had long since been recruited for the task as well. Books and papers also occupied all the space beneath the desk so that if one truly wanted to use the table and chair as intende
d it would likely have taken an hour just to move the volumes.
The room bore a very cluttered feel but Darion remarked to himself that it was not messy. He could tell that whoever had organized and arranged the spectacle before him could at a moment’s notice retrieve any one of the books without delay.
“May I help you?” a voice suddenly spoke up from behind Darion, startling him considerably. He turned around sharply and looked face to face with a man smiling from ear to ear. He was plump, sported a well-manicured beard, wore a knit black and white vest over a button up shirt, and looked as if he were a permanent fixture in the room. His countenance looked pleasant but Darion could tell that he was being sized up.
“May I help you?” the man said again, still smiling.
Darion paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he answered. “I’m uh looking for a book.”
The man laughed. “This isn’t the library son. Most of these are just zoning books, deeds and tax laws. Nothing a young fella like you would be interested in.”
“I’m looking for a very particular book,” said Darion uneasily, wondering why he wasn’t just coming out and saying it.
“Oh?” the man said. “And just what might this particular book be called?”
Darion breathed deeply before answering. “The Origin Codex.”
The words had hardly escaped Darion’s lips when the room was suddenly filled with a pulsating white light that seemed to envelop and penetrate him so tightly that he would never be free of it. Darion fell to the floor covering his eyes, which he was sure, had just been blinded.
“Who sent you?” a deep voice suddenly echoed throughout the room. “Who has told you of the Codex?”
Darion lifted his head to answer but felt almost as if he were choking on the light and fell back over, holding back vomit as he did.
“I say again. Who has sent you?”
Darion lay on the floor covering his face and trying to find his bearings. He didn’t know how long he sat there when he remembered the solar glasses Reesa had handed him. He struggled to retrieve them from his pocket and place them over his eyes.
“For the last time. Who has sent you? Answer now or be destroyed!”
Darion slowly, painfully stood to his feet. The glasses dulled the light beams but didn’t eliminate them. As he straightened, he looked into the eyes of the plump man who stood amid the waves of light nonchalantly as if oblivious of his surroundings.
“My name is General Darion!” Darion declared with authority, his voice cracking in pain only once. “I am here to gather the Codex on behalf of Professor Jabel! As General I have full authority to access classified materials in this district! Now hand it over!”
The overpowering light stopped. The pain stopped. The plump man disappeared. The chairs disappeared. The desk in the corner disappeared. The tall shelves and ladders disappeared. All of the books disappeared. In place of the cozy, cluttered office was a room as naked as could be imagined. Thick concrete walls overlaid with reinforced steel created near impenetrable barriers to outside incursion on all sides with force-fields set behind the window and doorframes. Aside from high-level military equipment, the room was virtually impregnable to all manner of assault. In the center of the cold, empty room stood a marble pedestal with a covered glass case on top. Within the case was a very thin, incredibly old leather-bound book. The binding looked worn but rugged. The words that once titled the book had since worn away. All that remained to differentiate the volume was a beautiful picture of a white tree embossed on the cover that looked as fresh and bright as the day it was made. The book seemed to resonate with power as Darion lifted the glass cover and slowly reached into the case. He picked it up and held it close. He pondered the significance of the event for just a moment before he took a step toward the door. As he approached the force-field dropped allowing his passage. He grabbed the doorknob and was just turning it when a voice once again sounded out behind him. Darion turned and looked at the plump man as he waved a pointed finger in the air dramatically.
“Be warned General,” he spoke in an echoey voice. “The Origin Codex has untold power that can help you win your wars, solve your quandaries and bring stability and happiness to your lands. But should it fall into the hands of the enemy it will be your undoing! Guard it well. And if peradventure some evil besiege thee, know this. It would be better for you if the Codex was destroyed than for it to be taken by the enemy.”
Darion nodded slowly, glanced at the all-important book in his hands and then walked out of the building. Reesa and Kebbs were waiting outside and eagerly approached when they realized Darion had acquired the prize.
“Not bad chief!” remarked Kebbs with a beaming smile as he produced a small cloth pouch and it handed it do Darion.
“Are you ok?” Reesa asked anxiously, noticing the haggard expression on Darion’s countenance. “What happened in there?”
Darion shook his head as he slid the Codex into the pouch and tied the end of it shut. “It was tough,” he admitted, downplaying the true challenge. “Thanks for these,” he added as he handed the glasses back to Reesa. “Couldn’t have done it without them.”
“Thank Jabel,” Reesa said with a smile. “It was his idea.”
Darion shook his head and laughed. “Of course it was.”
“Shhh!” Kebbs suddenly interjected, startling Reesa and Darion.
“What is it?” Reesa asked a moment later, lifting her gun and looking around anxiously.
“Shh,” Kebbs repeated, raising his hand for complete silence.
All three stood still and listened as a faint rumble in the distance echoed across the sky.
“Thunder?” Reesa said, but knowing better.
Darion shook his head woefully as a sickening feeling began to build in his stomach. “Its a Krohn descender turbine. I’ve heard recordings of them at the academy.”
“Descender turbine? As in landing ships?” Kebbs asked, although he didn’t have to.
Darion tucked the pouch under his arm and withdrew his pistol. “We need to get out of the city. And we don’t have much time.”
Reesa nodded as she once again took the lead. “Couldn’t agree with you more. Lets go!”
The three companions once again set out but this time they carried with them a package of unparalleled importance…though none of them knew why.
***
“It looks like they were tied down,” Gallo commented as the Iovara command crew studied the enhanced images taken by the fighter pilot. “See how their hands are all obscured?”
“Like they are tied behind their backs,” Kesler said as he spotted what Gallo had noticed and nodded.
Jonas shook his head. “I don’t get it. Were these poor souls put in there forcibly?”
“Possibly,” Gallo answered. “Or more likely, they got in legitimately trying to escape their dying ship and were overpowered when they arrived.”
“But what could have done this?” Jonas asked in bewilderment.
“An Unmentionable,” answered Kesler as he looked at the images in horror.
“But what did it do to them?” Jonas asked in disgust. “They look like empty water pouches.”
“That’s essentially what they are,” commented the medical officer that Fedrin had invited to the bridge. “I think whatever did this, sucked them dry through their facial orifices. The mouth, eyes, and noses of each man are distended as if they had been sucked through like a straw.”
Fedrin cringed.
“This stuff will give me nightmares for a week,” said Jonas with a shiver as he turned away from the gruesome images. “Maybe two weeks.”
“You and me both,” remarked Kesler.
Fedrin shook his head. “What I want to know is who did this and where it is now.”
The other officers nodded but had no idea how to start such an assignment.
“Incoming transmission from the Defiant,” Gallo spoke up.
Fedrin dismissed the medical officer and gav
e Gallo a nod. “What’s happening Commander?” Fedrin asked as Drezden’s face filled the main tele-link screen.
Drezden shrugged. “Nothing really. I just wanted to report an oddity that happened about ten minutes ago.”
“Oh?”
“One of our external docking bay airlocks opened for no reason and then closed.”
You could have heard a pin drop on the Iovara command deck as the other officers stopped their tasks and looked at the screen, each thinking the unthinkable.
Drezden continued. “Upon investigating it further, we realized that it had been opened using Commodore Tropnia’s officer access code.”
Fedrin’s blood ran cold. “Drezden! You must go into lockdown mode now!”
Drezden looked at Fedrin curiously. “Why is that?”
“Just do it!” Fedrin snapped. “You haven’t a moment to lose!”
Before Drezden could reply the transmission suddenly filled with static and began to flicker to other open channels.
“Drezden!” Fedrin called out, quickly standing to his feet. “Drezden are you there?”
A minute of tortuous silence passed before the transmission stabilized and Drezden could once again be seen clearly. Red lights on the bridge were flashing, sirens blared rhythmically and a large blast door could be seen sliding into place at the back of the Defiant’s bridge.
“Something is very wrong!” Drezden said intently, his eyes showing fear, not for himself, but for love of his crew and ship.
“I know,” Fedrin said calmly and then proceeded to tell Drezden about the escape pod filled with drained men and the missing aggressor. Upon finishing, Drezden shook his head.
“What should I do?” he said in a near helpless manner that unnerved Fedrin. “If it’s aboard, it could be anywhere. It could appear as anyone.”
Fedrin nodded slowly as he contemplated the tactical dilemma. “I would immediately make sure everyone aboard is accompanied by at least two others at all times. If this thing is Unmentionable, which I consider likely, it can appear as almost anyone. I would also not allow any corridor to corridor movement unless absolutely necessary.”