Angry Ghosts

by F. Allen Farnham

  Only static comes through the radio.

  She looks over her shoulder at Keller and Thompson. They both look back at her, confused. Keller turns to his officers and shrugs.

  In the viewscreen, a formation of alien ships crests the limb of the asteroid and approaches swiftly.

  Maiella gasps. “They found us!” Her hands fly across her console, programming an escape heading, but the Europa's size makes the colony vessel slow to respond.

  Thompson unslings his rifle and primes it, his mouth curling to a snarl. His mouth is wide, about to call for Argo when the radio crackles, “Halt maneuver. Stand by."

  Maiella cocks her head, what she hears not jibing with what she sees. “The blueskins learned our language?” She looks to Thompson for instruction.

  Thompson grips his weapon firmly, but there is less alarm in his eyes.

  “Hail them again,” he orders.

  Maiella faces the viewscreen and transmits, “Cadre One, this is Team Spectre… Don’t you recognize us?”

  The radio buzzes then replies, “Team Spectre deployed two hundred thirty-seven years ago. Do not make further transmission. Abort maneuver or you will be incinerated.”

  Eyes gaping, Maiella does not wait for Thomspon's order. She smacks a series of controls, bringing the huge colony ship to an abrupt, groaning stop, then watches the screen anxiously.

  As the alien ships glide nearer, a queer chill fills the bridge. Colonist officers exchange questioning glances, each uncertain face amplifying the others’ worry into fear. Getting Thompson’s attention, the counselor asks him, “Could this be a joke?”

  Thompson resolutely shakes his head, no.

  Argo stands from his station and moves over to Thompson, whispering, “You ever seen ships like that before?”

  “Never,” Thompson answers, his eyes fixed on the sleek, modern vessels. Behind him, the colonist officers begin to huddle around their captain.

  “What have you brought us into, Major?” Keller asks.

  Thompson does not reply, instead studying the mounting situation and analyzing it for possibilities.

  Again, the radio crackles, “Transmit identity for verification.”

  “Finally,” Maiella exhales and she keys her radio. “Team Spectre dash Echo Foxtrot Hotel Lima Bravo, Major Gun Thompson dash Mike Delta Zulu X-ray, First Lieutenant Brick Argo dash Tango Mike Delta Charlie, First Lieutenant Geek Maiella dash Alpha Victor Echo X-Ray, over.”

  “Explain verbal delivery,” the radio voice demands.

  “Synaptic bridge failure during cryo-sleep compromised function of Human/Digital Interface.”

  “Verifying... Identification will be supplemented by visual reference. Remove all headgear and present yourselves on-screen for verification.”

  The three operators assemble themselves at the front of the bridge, unlatching their helmets and removing them before the viewscreen.

  “Left-face,” Thompson calls.

  The operators crisply turn in unison.

  “About-face.”

  The three take a half step forward and spin around, taking another half step to end where they started, maintaining their rigid posture. At last, the radio crackles, “Gun, Brick, and Geek, board shuttle and surrender weapons. You will submit to DNA verification. Out.”

  In the viewscreen, a small craft departs from one of the sleek black ships. In orderly fashion, the operators restore their helmets and file wordlessly out of the bridge. Keller tries to get Thompson’s attention, but the soldier takes no notice as he leads his team through the wrecked blast doors.

  “This is all wrong, Skipper,” Gregor whispers. “We should get the hell outta here.”

  Keller stares at the black ships poised menacingly for attack. “I think you’re right, Gregor. To your stations, everyone!”

  The officers scramble to fill their seats and ready the ship to depart. “All back two-thirds,” Keller orders. Sharon enters commands into the console Maiella just vacated, and the massive engines ignite, drawing the behemoth ship back. A searing bolt streaks by from the largest of the surrounding ships.

  “Halt your retreat or be destroyed,” the voice commands.

  “All stop!” Keller orders. Desperation and powerlessness mingle inside him, meekly heralding the end of his command.

  “Prepare to be boarded,” the voice insists, and with a gentle thud the shuttle arrives.

  Keller looks up despondently, scanning the faces of his crew. They are looking to him for orders, needing him to figure a way out for them, but he cannot. He allowed them to fall into an easy trap and left them without protection after all these years. The best he can manage is, “I’m sorry…”

  The officers slump helplessly in their seats, thinking back on the months of time they had to avoid this. They think about how easily they were taken in by the possibilities the operators represented, how their hopes were so effortlessly manipulated. Now they sit, bitterly awaiting the arrival of their captors. Gregor drops his head to his console, barely uttering the word, “Hostages…”

  Heavy footfalls approach in unison, and nine fully armed and armored Guns stride past the blast door. Gregor mutters under his breath, “Here comes the gestapo.”

  The lead Gun stands and surveys the scene. He immediately slings his weapon and slides his faceplate up. Though young, his poise exudes experience and confidence. When he looks around again, the serious look dissolves, his face beaming with amazement.

  “I didn’t dare believe it ’til I saw it! Incredible!”

  The other Guns lift faceplates and shout out loud. Racing over, they hoist Keller and his officers up out of their seats into bear-hug embraces.

  “You really are human, aren’t you?” the lead Gun exclaims. The operators joyously sweep their armloads up onto their shoulders, bearing them like heroes back toward the shuttle and shouting like elated children. Gregor and Keller exchange a look of bewilderment but grin with delight as they bounce along. Sharon and Javier get caught up in the excitement as well, laughing and hooting with their cheering new friends.

  Back at the shuttle, Maiella, Argo, and Thompson smile modestly as the group crams in with them. The lead Gun claps the shuttle pilot on the shoulder, saying, “Take us straight to base, inform General O’Kai of our cargo!”

  “Yes, sir!” the pilot replies with a smile.

  The shuttle tears away from the colony ship, streaking toward the asteroid with phenomenal agility. Argo’s eyes widen at the swiftness, and he leans close to the pilot to be heard above the shouts and cheers.

  “How is it we’re not being crushed by our acceleration?” the Brick asks.

  “About a hundred years ago, we captured a ship that had inertial damping.”

  “Inertial damping? How does it work?”

  “Ah, I’d have to ask a tech about the specifics; but basically, it produces a field that energizes every particle in it, so matter’s never in an at-rest state.”

  Gregor overhears the discussion, understanding the phenomenal accomplishment it represents. “Fantastic,” he mumbles in awe.

  The lead Gun pushes through the crowd to stand before Thompson, Argo, and Maiella. Seeing Thompson’s rank, he salutes respectfully. “Major, I'm Gun Deepak." He drops his hand. "Are you really Team Spectre?”

  The three nod in affirmation.

  Deepak howls with a teeth-showing grin. “We learned all about you in training, every time you went out on rotation you always came back with something good, how you designed the ambush that countered the stealth ships… You were the models of everything we should strive to be.” He stamps his boot solidly. “And here you are again! Greatest find of all!”

  “What happened at that ambush?” Maiella asks.

  “Hmm? Oh, right, the stealth ships.…” The Gun closes his eyes and presses the back of his hand against his forehead like he is remembering something arcane. “Okay, the teams got in position; and like you predicted, the blueskins showed up to investigate their freighter. The decoy v
irus ship shot out and attached to the first ship it saw. Four stealth ships demasked right there. So the team leader detonated the freighter. The blast wave destroyed the ships that were investigating, crippled the four stealth ships, then ripped into a row of twelve more stealthed ships behind them! Even though the teams were outmatched, the team leader took the initiative in all the chaos. He landed teams on the three least damaged ships and got control of them, but then it got really intense. Teams had to jump from ship to ship to keep from getting pinned down and zeroed. Then another ship appeared on scene. Operators thought it was reinforcement for the blueskins, but it wasn’t.... It was General Dryden, Colonel Thorskild, and Major Eris in that fast military ship you'd just collected. They flew in like they’re going to attack our teams, then broke off at the last second and landed pinpoints on the remaining enemy ships.”

  The shuttle passes the large bay doors of the cadre hanger and clanks gently into the docking clamps at the interior wall.

  “It was a bloody fight. We lost several operators…but we got away clean with three new ships, and we figured out how to detect a stealthed ship after studying the machinery onboard. That one op changed everything for us...everything...”

  Deepak does not notice, but every colonist’s attention is riveted to him. To them, the reptilian enemy is godlike and invulnerable. Now they stand in the presence of people who have enjoyed a military victory over that enemy. Awe paints their features in broad strokes.

  “We’ve arrived,” the pilot announces.

  The shuttle doors slide apart, and a throng of Cadre Operators and MedTechs cheer frantically from the other side. Keller and his officers are guided into their midst where they are welcomed with thunderous shouts and hurrahs.

  Gregor grins broadly to his fellows. “Not much of a gestapo, huh?”

  “Don’t think I’ll mind being a hostage here,” Sharon adds.

  Three MedTechs push through the crowd, seeking out the newcomers, reaching Keller first. “Are you hurt in any way? Do you require assistance?”

  Keller looks at his crew and the cadre coming together with open hearts and arms, so relieved not to be alone anymore. His own heart swells in his chest at the sight, and he finally answers, “No. I’m better than I’ve ever been!”

  The MedTechs nod at him in acknowledgement and scatter into the crowd to find anyone else who may need them.

  Above the crowd, a loudspeaker blares to life, “Attention! Attention! All work details temporarily suspended. Assemble in sublevel three, hall nine. Repeat, assemble in sublevel three, hall nine. Over.”

  “Sublevel three?” Maiella echoes.

  Deepak overhears her surprise, and explains, “We’ve done a lot of digging since you've been out…”

  The crowd undulates and moves through the corridor toward the elevators leading down. Keller and his officers go with the tide, not questioning the direction, allowing the group to lead them. It is not long, however, before they notice that most of the people around them suffer from a major impediment: some limp unevenly in their gait, some drag a club foot or rely on a prosthetic extension to make a short leg as long as the other. Others hunch from a crooked spine or twitch in their stride with an ambulatory tic. Keller loses himself in his observations, unaware he is staring until a sweet-faced young woman with a prosthetic metal arm smiles at him. He shakes himself out of his absorbed observation, returning the smile warmly though slightly ashamed.

  The able-bodied operators have already walked ahead to make the elevators ready for the group. With gentility, they assist the more infirmed into the elevator, treating them as if they were precious things, more delicate and rare than anything else in the universe.

  The counselor, specially attuned to observe the interactions of this new group, marvels at the compassion and care the operators show toward the handicapped. On Earth, more often than not, the handicapped were ridiculed, ostracized, and victimized. He stores the observation and steps into the large elevator car.

  The whole group is too large to fit in at the same time; but the operators make sure the colonists, Maiella, Argo, and Thompson go with the first load. The heavy gate slides closed, and the large elevator descends.

  Gregor leans over to the counselor, still taking in his surroundings. “It feels strange to be off the Europa. I haven’t seen anything new in years… It’s really exciting!”

  The counselor nods demurely at the sentiment.

  As curious as Gregor and the other colonists are about the MedTechs and Operators, the cadre personnel seem more curious of them, but there is a good-natured silence as each side wonders what they should say. The polite smiles and foot shuffling go on; then all at the same time, every person in the elevator car begins a question. All mouths stop in the middle of the word they were forming. Colonist and cadre alike give in to the comedy of it, the laughs coming easily and long. Only Maiella, Argo, and Thompson maintain their straight-faced expressions.

  With a thump, the elevator reaches its lowest point, and the heavy gate slides aside. Beyond is a short, wide metal corridor ending at large doors, already opened. The group moves out of the elevator, proceeding briskly toward the hall beyond the open doors.

  Inside, the hall is busy with hundreds of cadre personnel filing in from similar entrances and finding seats. At the front of the hall stands a short stage with a long table stretched across its left half. More uniformed personnel stand there, but they appear very fit with full heads of steel gray hair. Their charcoal uniforms bear broad panels of assorted colored bars, and their physical shapes are unmistakably those of operators.

  One of the gray-haired operators notices the colonists strolling in among the others, and he raises an arm high to hail them, beckoning them forward.

  Keller, Gregor, Ortega, the counselor, and Sharon guide themselves through the admiring crowd, then step up onto the stage. The gray-haired soldier who beckoned them is a tower of a man and large in build, surpassing Thompson in stature. He wears a pleased smile and introduces himself warmly.

  “I am General O’Kai. Welcome to Cadre One!” The general outstretches his large hand to each of them, grasping firmly. “Please allow me to introduce the members of our leadership council: Colonel Shao-Lo...”

  A tall, muscular woman with short hair steps forward, greeting her guests stiffly, yet courteously.

  “Colonel Munro….”

  A man of Argo’s build steps forward, extending a beefy arm. His other arm is dwarfed in comparison, being much smaller and shorter in length.

  “Major Chusan....”

  Another tall and muscular man with a heavily burn-scarred face steps forward as he is introduced. He bears a more serious look than the others, though if that is a result of the scars or his general demeanor, the colonists cannot tell.

  “And Major Ralla.”

  A leaner woman steps forward with numerous silver HDI terminals extending just beyond her short-cropped hair. She exudes phenomenal confidence, as much as the general himself.

  Gregor studies the polished terminals embedded in her scalp, making the association. “Are you a…Geek?” he asks.

  Ralla smiles politely. “That was my designation when I was an operator. Now I regulate the cadre mainframes and contribute to leadership decisions with the council.”

  Gregor nods in respectful understanding.

  “General,” Keller begins, “I present the senior officers of the colony ship Europa: Commander Javier Ortega, Lieutenant Commander Sharon Jones, Lieutenant Gregor Petrova, ship’s counselor, and myself, Captain Braemar Keller.”

  The general smiles broadly, gesturing his guests forward. “Please, come sit with us.”

  The colonists step up onto the stage, and Major Ralla guides them to their seats. There, they all sit except for the general who remains standing, supervising the rest of the cadre as it files in.

  Major Ralla finds herself beside the counselor, and a question has been in her mind since she met him. “Counselor…is that your only appellati
on?”

  The counselor nods, and seeing her inquisitive expression, he elaborates, “In my role aboard the Europa, I frequently have to arbitrate disputes, and I'm trusted with highly sensitive information about each crew member. By using title only and not carrying a familiar name, it enhances my appearance of impartiality and makes the job easier.”

  Ralla raises an eyebrow at him. “We don’t keep secrets about ourselves, and there are no disputes. Everything is planned.” Her smile creeps back. “You could have a name here.”

  The counselor is caught completely off guard by the major’s insight. From what he learned about the cadre from Maiella, Thompson, and Argo, he never expected to find one of them so immediately sensitive to how isolating and burdensome his role has been. He looks graciously on her, giving her a friendly touch on her shoulder.

  “Cadre personnel!” O’Kai’s voice booms, “Your attention!”

  All in the audience face their general. Every mouth closes in silent obedience.

  “I know you are all aware by now that there are new faces here in Cadre One. They came to us aboard a ship ten times larger than anything we have ever collected, and here is their Leadership Council!”

  The entire audience shouts a hurrah, all at once.

  Keller is about to correct the general, but the counselor touches his arm, whispering, “It’s how they know us.” Keller understands, letting the semantics slide.

  O’Kai raises his arms up to reel the crowd back in and continues, “They didn’t know we were here. Someone had to find them and guide them back to us.” O’Kai pauses a moment, allowing the crowd to wonder, then answers their communal question. “Team Spectre…”

  Shocked gasps go up from the crowd. There were few stories passed down through the generations, but the story of Team Spectre was one of them. The exploits of Maiella, Argo, and Thompson were used as parables to the initiates entering the Operator Corps; and they were described as the epitome of what everyone should strive for, nearly deified. Forty years after their final departure, they were declared lost; and that day became an anniversary to honor the ultimate sacrifice that they and every other fallen operator had made. Now, all watch in reverent awe as these three resurrected operators stride toward the stage at O’Kai’s command. Before, the stories made them out as heroes. Now, back from the dead, they are invincible.