The two officers took a long, final look at Martin and the panther, both asleep and seemingly undisturbed, before shutting down the pedestals. The Star-Commander locked the chamber with a retinal scan and the guards resumed their positions. Both officers walked silently alone, back to their separate quarters.
Chapter XIX
Earth Date: 475 N.V.A.
Location: CENTRAL, Earth
The fireplace provided its comforting glow, but at the moment, nobody was paying attention. The usually restful room in which all the Guardians were assembled was uncommonly alive with energy. Guardian II spoke first.
“We have all now seen Star-Commander VanDevere’s latest report, sent from the Fleet on our most secure channel,” she said, standing in front of the fire while the others remained seated. “It is, to say the least, absolutely mind boggling! What VanDevere and her young Lieutenant-Warden have done is given us time and an edge-up in our preparations for dealing with Franelli. We know for a certainty that he has successfully traveled back through time at least once, possibly twice, or even more.”
The room buzzed as they all seemed to talk at once. Guardian II restored order and gestured towards Guardian I who stood up to speak. “We also realize that this beast of a man, Galen Bestmarke, has brought back these poor creatures. Franelli has fashioned them into living abominations, living trophies, if you will.”
“Most importantly, though,” Guardian II said, “we now have the ancient man’s name, age, location, date of birth, and date of apparent death. Data specialists are researching this as we speak.”
Guardian V raised her hand to speak. “Franelli’s handiwork is certainly evident. The level of sophistication in these devices is astounding! If we could persuade him to share this knowledge, think of the huge technical advances we could quickly make...”
“Franelli is corrupt,” Guardian III said. “Do we dare put any measure of trust in him? He may in pretense share knowledge with us that appears beneficial, but in reality is a dead end, even a trap. He has no love for us. He hates the Empire. We must use extreme caution with him. Would we ourselves attempt to use his knowledge of the Keyhole? That would be possible only if he himself went with us and that presents a host of security questions. It would, no doubt, invite an attack from Bestmarke. He will be desperate for Franelli’s return.”
Guardian V paused for a moment before she spoke again, carefully weighing her words. She thought back to the years she and Louis had worked side by side in Research. Their work had included small scale nuclear engineering and artificial intelligence. The most dangerous and controversial project involved the mysterious Keyhole. Louis's calculations on the Keyhole had indirectly led to the disappearance of a research vessel and crew of twenty. This landed him in the Compu-Court. Guardian V had stood by his side, pleading for him, but to no avail. In her opinion his conviction was unjust, his prison sentence wrong, and his ban from CENTRAL a mistake. Those actions were now ugly memories.
“You are correct, my Sister,” Guardian V said. “We must be cautious. Franelli could very well be corrupt, but is he beyond help, beyond redemption? At one time he showed some good qualities, although he was always reclusive and difficult to read. That was over ten years ago, back before I became a Guardian. Time and circumstances could have changed him.” The possibility of a pardon came to mind, but she didn't mention it.
Guardian VIII sighed deeply. “We know what Franelli was working on ten years ago but nothing of what he has done since. If he has been with Bestmarke all these years we can only conclude that Bestmarke has treated him well. If that is the case, what can we offer him that Bestmarke has not already given him? We can never set him free and he knows that. Any cooperation from him will always be suspect. He will always have to be, at best, kept on a short chain.”
“But do we really know Franelli?” Guardian V said, “Do we know him enough to make that assessment? In the past, he only cared about his work, his research. He was extremely passionate about it. Nothing could tempt him away from it. It could be that he has no love for Bestmarke, for the Empire, or for anything except his research. We may not know him as well as we think we do.”
The room became silent with only the sounds of the holographic fire. Guardian II broke the quiet. “Whatever is in Mr. Franelli’s mind will be ours to find out soon enough. More speculation now is pointless. What other areas need to be discussed?”
“What of the cat and the man?” Guardian VII said. “We cannot restore them as they once were, but perhaps we can restore them enough to dignify their appearance, and provide a nearly full measure of motor control. We can even give them super abundant strength and speed if we can unlock the secrets of Franelli’s power source.” She became more animated. “Obviously the only truly living part of them will be their heads, most importantly their brains. Everything else will essentially be mechanical. But the possibilities are exciting. Think of what we could create. A super panther and a super man! An ancient one at that!”
“Do we want to take them off one pedestal and put them on another?” Guardian IV said, a sour look on her face. “We must consider the moral issues here. If it is our place to restore them, then by how much? If it is our place to enhance them, then again, to what degree?” She paused, and continued in a more conciliatory tone. “The man at least needs to be heard. The cat also should be heard, though that will indeed be more difficult.”
This last statement generated a flurry of comments. Guardian II again had to restore order. “Please, Sisters, please, let us keep order. Do you have a point, Guardian VI?”
“Yes, thank you. What of the intricate genetics of this man, can we duplicate them? Can we duplicate him? Will it bring us any closer to solving our dilemma? If so, what are our guidelines?” she said, looking around to them all. “You now see the questions this new situation brings up. What do we make our priority?”
“This is an important question,” Guardian II said, looking them all in the face. “Our first task will be establishing priorities, and then a procedure to accomplish them. We still have time before the Fleet arrives to establish at least a loose outline before we meet our subjects face to face.” She turned and recognized Guardian IX.
“The question of time travel now takes on enormous importance,” Guardian IX said. “Should we attempt it ourselves now that we see it is definitely possible? Bestmarke has done it, apparently for selfish sport, with no regard for past and future generations. However, we could accomplish much good if used judiciously. We could solve our dilemma of perpetuating the human race and fill in all the gaps of our history as well as many other noble endeavors. But what if others discover how to use it for more ominous reasons?”
“What are you suggesting?” Guardian II said, intently looking at her.
“What if rebels or even organized crime establish a slave trade?” Guardian IX said. “What if they time-travel to a period before the Great Catastrophe and capture biologically sound people, bring them back to our time, and sell them to the highest bidders?” A collective gasp went up from the Guardians. “People could just disappear, not even exist, with the slightest tinkering of events in the past. This may have already happened, so we need to quickly investigate this possibility. Time travel, if attempted at all, should be meticulously researched and carried out within the most stringent of guidelines. We could find ourselves in the position of playing God. The moral ramifications of that scenario are beyond us and unacceptable. We must be extremely cautious!”
All were in agreement and the discussion came to an end as she sat down. The room buzzed with quick conversation as Guardian II sat down and Guardian I stood up to conclude.
“We plainly see the task in front of us,” she said in her resonant voice. “Each of our areas of expertise will be fully put to the test. Our decisions in the near future will place us at the nexus of our foreseeable existence. This may be our only real opportunity to guarantee the continuation of our generations. Really, we are forced to seize this opportunity in spite
of any misgivings or doubts. We must not fail!”
Once more they all stood and raised their clenched left fists over their hearts.
Chapter XX
Earth Date: 475 N.V.A.
Location: En route to Earth from the Kuiper Belt
The gnawing feelings and repetitive questions would not go away in spite of how busy she kept herself. Star-Commander Abigail VanDevere was finally caught up with her lengthy schedule of duties, and she had no more excuses. Ever since her first private meeting with Lieutenant-Warden Rogerton, where the code name Star Point was mentioned, curiosity and dread had battled continuously in her heart. She had an idea of the identity of Star Point, but that knowledge and the risk of knowing the truth frightened her. She recognized that sometimes you can learn too much, but you still have to know. She would go mad if she didn't at least make an attempt to find out the truth.
She tried to calm her emotions and sat at her desk. “Computer, give me 'Privacy: Commanding Officer',” she quickly said before she could change her mind. “Give me full clearance to Priority 50-C1 situations.” The micro-shield enveloped her, providing total privacy.
“Please enter name, rank, password, and remain motionless for dual retinal scan.”
“Abigail VanDevere – Star-Commander of the New Victorian Empire Fleet – ‘Bestmarke must die’.”
The scanner verified both eyes and announced her clearance.
“Please give me all the information on a Victorian officer, code-named Star Point, renegade 2.75 standard years.”
“All information has been reclassified to 50-GX status. No further information is available.”
“Is Star Point the code name for Michelle VanDevere, my sister, who became a renegade?” she said, trying again.
“All information has been reclassified to 50-GX status. No further information is available.”
VanDevere was at a loss of what to make of this development. 50-G indicated it was at a level that only a Guardian could access. And the “X” identified which Guardian had supervision.
“When was this reclassified?”
“That information is unavailable.”
“How can I approach or talk to Guardian X?”
“She will be waiting for you when you arrive at CENTRAL, Star-Commander VanDevere. You will receive further instructions when you arrive at Earth Space Dock. Please follow them implicitly.”
The Star-Commander was stunned, both in thought and speech. It was frightening to be totally involved in a situation and yet know nothing about it. She felt like a puppet, a marionette, waiting for another string to be jerked. Yet, she could only do what she had been trained to do all of her life, follow orders. That was harder when it didn’t make sense or couldn’t be understood. She shrugged, letting out a deep sigh. She would just have to wait and see how this drama plays out. Did she have a starring role, or was she part of the supporting cast? Did it really matter in the long run? She wondered why happiness was so elusive – what did it really take to find it?
“Computer, end privacy program and go to stand-by. Please awaken me at 06:30 hours.”
She walked into her small apartment with one thing on her mind, sleep.
Chapter XXI
Earth Date: 475 N.V A.
Location: Earth Space Dock, high earth orbit
Lieutenant-Warden Rogerton nervously rubbed her hands together as she sat in the window seat of the space-plane preparing for the last leg of their trip to Earth CENTRAL. She preferred space travel to the bumpy atmospheric flights that ferried supplies and people back and forth to Earth’s surface from the huge space dock facility orbiting the Earth. She had a lot of respect for the pilots that dealt with a multitude of problems unique to leaving and reentering the atmosphere. Of course, none of the deep-space vehicles with their toxic fusion engines could be used in close proximity to the atmosphere. Anti-gravity propulsion systems for atmospheric and deep-space vehicles were still just a dream but were gradually coming closer to reality. Highly efficient chemical engines were still the tried and true workhorses for atmospheric flights.
Star-Commander VanDevere had the window seat across the aisle and was sitting quietly, deep in thought, her right hand absently caressing the ten-pointed platinum star near her left shoulder. With VanDevere's permission, Kolanna had been allowed to ride in the pilot’s cabin up front. She was beside herself with excitement, her smile wider than usual, and her large dark eyes seemed to glow. Franelli remained sedated and under heavy guard in a special security capsule in the hold. The two pedestals and their precious cargo were well anchored in a special cargo crate locked with a retinal scan from VanDevere. Two additional fortified space-planes along with two squadrons of ten air-space fighters were set to accompany them to Earth CENTRAL. They were taking no chances with intervention from Bestmarke.
The Star-Commander had informed Rogerton that her presence was requested at CENTRAL and her vacation would have to be postponed. She wondered if she would ever have another vacation. The Star-Commander didn’t volunteer any additional information, and Rogerton didn’t ask. She felt something significant was going on that was both fearful and exciting. She hoped her part would be a small one.
Finally loaded and secure, the fleet departed Space Dock for the four hour flight to CENTRAL. The approach to Earth was particularly beautiful, especially for those who had been away a long time. For both women, coming home to Mother was an emotional experience not easily forgotten or dulled by time. It tugged at their primal feelings, helping them appreciate their special bond with this colorful gem floating in space. They began the bumpy, rough flight down through the atmosphere and were relieved when they smoothly settled into sub-sonic speed at cruising altitude.
Both women now glued themselves to the windows, enraptured by the sheer beauty and ever changing views of the terrain below. Their flight pattern brought them over tree clad mountains with autumn colors beginning at the tops while summer still dominated the lower elevations. The valleys were patched with the gold of ripening grain. Small farming communities surrounded larger metropolitan and light industrial areas, the connecting high speed transportation lines resembling the spokes of a wheel, all meeting at the hub. Everywhere the land was green with vegetation and dotted with small lakes. Winding streams and rivers appeared as loose threads and ropes from their high vantage point. They flew over areas of heavy industry, usually located on a large river or lake, but still marveled at the greenery and clean organization. Everywhere the air was pure with only the haze of water vapor condensing into white clouds along their flight path. Their journey slowed as they approached the expansive PCC Space Port sitting on the edge of the plains bordering the great chain of mountains where CENTRAL was located. The space-plane hovered into the hangar and gently touched down. They were finally on Earth.
There was no pomp or ceremony as they exited the space-plane into the cavernous hangar, nor did they expect there to be. It was easy to pick out the PCC personnel assigned to space duty by their distinctive forest green uniforms and even more distinctive purple-tinged eyes. Other disciplines and programs had various colored uniforms to help identify their duties, and the blend made for a colorful pageantry that relieved the Spartan starkness of the utilitarian structure.
Three teams of Specialists in white uniforms met them at the space-plane. Each team had a low transport vehicle equipped with a shield generator. One team was directed to transport Franelli, hidden inside a personnel capsule. Another was instructed to transport the two pedestals locked inside their cargo crate. The commanding Lieutenant of the third team approached the Star-Commander, came to attention, and saluted with her left fist over her heart. She was medium-height and muscular, her dark olive skin and shining black hair in stark contrast with her starched white uniform. Near her left shoulder was a single ten-pointed star similar to that worn by the Star-Commander. The Lieutenant’s star was black onyx, the symbol of the Guardians.
Her dark eyes flashing, the Lieutenant spoke with a
husky voice in a proud and confident manner. “Star-Commander, I am Lieutenant Constantine. We welcome you and your crew to Earth CENTRAL. We hope you had a comfortable flight.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant, we did. Do you have further instructions for us?”
“Yes, Ma’am, we have been instructed to escort yourself and Lieutenant-Warden Rogerton back to CENTRAL. The other two teams with their cargo will accompany us. Your crew will be escorted to the Base Guest Quarters. I assure you, they will be comfortably provided for. Does this meet with your approval?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, please carry on,” VanDevere said.
With minimal and concise orders, the assignments of the three teams were completed. The crew was escorted to another transport vehicle, helped along by Specialists in different colored uniforms. VanDevere and Rogerton were seated on the transport and watched the completion of the loading. The last of the teams were seated and the order given to proceed to CENTRAL.
“Shields on!” Lieutenant Constantine said as they cleared the fortress-like doors of the hangar. The sparkling edge of the shield-like force field was visible for a split second in the sunlight as they emerged from the shade of the entrance canopy. The wheels of the transport vehicles retracted as the anti-gravity systems took over and the transports floated effortlessly a meter above the ground. The three teams glided quietly along with only a faint hum over the grass way that led the twenty kilometers to CENTRAL.
“How long have they had these vehicles?” Rogerton said. “These are amazing. I did not realize the development of anti-gravity systems was this advanced.”
“Not long,” VanDevere said. “They are making rapid progress in anti-gravity engineering for space vehicles, too. Fusion engines may be obsolete in a century’s time, chemical engines sooner, I would expect.”
“I have noticed other air vehicles around us at great distances, difficult to see. Are they escorts also?” Rogerton said, looking up and scanning the sky.
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