“You don’t have to. All you need to do is use this communicator,” Bellum said while handing Tonwen a piece of equipment the size and thickness of an American postage stamp. “You tell us what you find and we’ll relay the information to your superiors down on the planet.”
“What makes you think I have a way to reach Captain Hastelloy?”
“You strike me as a man who’s far too smart not to,” Bellum answered. “If you’re apprehended before verifying the contents of those containers, they will confiscate your device. It’s best to leave it with us just in case so that we can tell this Captain Hastelloy what has happened and about our suspicions of the weapons containers.
This was what the captain had cautioned Tonwen about before the Novi landing craft arrived. It was possible there could be some sort of hidden agenda in the works that needed exposing. This was Tonwen’s chance to reveal it, but it also meant laying all of his cards on the table and trusting these two strangers. In the end, he reasoned it was his only course of action.
Tonwen reached with his right hand down the backside of his pants to retrieve a communications device of his own; a blue disk the size of a silver dollar.
“That device belongs in a museum,” Bellum commented as he took the piece of equipment from Tonwen’s hand. “I’m not even going to ask where you hid something this large.”
“I realize this must be like two tin cans with a piece of string between them to you, but it is all we have. You place your thumb on the center and it will activate a holographic image of the captain so that you may relay the information I discover.”
“Once you do, conceal the device and tie yourselves up like I am doing to these two guards. That way it will look like you were incapacitated as well,” Tonwen said.
“I can do that, right after I help you reach level thirteen,” Bellum replied.
Chapter 18: The Telephone Game
“Okay, give the doors a pull,” Bellum told Tonwen while holding the manual release lever beside the lift doors.
Tonwen’s strong frame had no difficulty prying the set of double doors apart to reveal a vertical shaft with ladder rungs leading up and down along the sidewall. He stole a quick glance up the shaft to confirm that the carriage was still several levels above and holding position.
Bellum stepped over to assume the duties of holding the doors as Tonwen moved onto the ladder and began his descent. “The armory is three levels down. I’ll hold the elevator so that it doesn’t run over your position. Then it’s all up to you my new friend.”
“One way or another, we will get to the bottom of what is going on here,” Tonwen declared before the doors closed.
He made good time negotiating the tiny rungs of the ladder that were spaced uncomfortably close together. He was by no means afraid of heights, thousands of years climbing up and down the Nexus tunnel ladders cured him of that particular phobia long ago, but this situation was a different matter. Only the tips of his toes could fit on a rung and there was not enough room to grasp the ladder with his hands either. This left him descending a shaft several hundred feet tall using his fingertips and tippy toes without a safety harness.
As he approached the thirteenth level, he felt an onrush of air coming at him from above. A look up confirmed that the lift carriage was on rapid approach and showing no signs of slowing down until jolting to a stop ten feet over his head. Tonwen trusted his belief that Bellum summoned the elevator in order to hold it there, but he did not feel like taking any chances. He accelerated his pace to take the ladder two rungs at a time until he reached the thirteenth level with the manual door release lever within reach.
Tonwen nudged the doors open enough to have a look. He found a hallway thirty feet long with two armed guards posted at the end. Behind them stood a revolving glass door that served as a mantrap entrance into the armory. The distance from the elevator to the doorway was meant as a security feature given that it would take a Novi at least ten seconds at a full sprint to cover the open floor space. However, the feature did not anticipate the capabilities of a human body.
Tonwen braced his right leg against the back wall of the elevator shaft, took a deep breath, and made his move. He threw the manual lever all the way to the side, sending the doors wide open. As they were in motion Tonwen launched off the back wall and hit the hallway running bent over at the waist imitating an Olympic sprinter exploding out of the starting blocks. Half the distance passed without the guards moving a muscle. When he was five feet away their eyes widened in surprise, but by then it was too late.
Tonwen dropped his shoulder into a guard, sending the unfortunate Novi careening head first into the glass wall behind him. The second had time enough to reach for his holstered weapon, but Tonwen’s elbow to the side of his head prevented any further progress.
With the immediate danger removed, Tonwen took a moment to evaluate the security system in front of him. There were no card slots or retinal scanners. There was only a flat sensor pad roughly the size of a Novi’s hand. Tonwen picked up one of the unconscious guards and cradled him in his arms as he pressed the Novi’s hand to the identification pad.
A flash of light erupted from the pad to read the hand pressed against it. The security system was sophisticated enough to detect a live pulse in the hand, but made no determination of consciousness. When the scanning surface flashed green, Tonwen took that as his cue. He dropped the unconscious guard from his arms and squeezed himself into the revolving doorway. He shuffled his way around as the opening turned to grant him access into the weapons armory.
Tonwen poked his head around the entryway corner to get a lay of the room. His first glance reminded him of a library with twelve rows of shelving that reached from floor to ceiling running parallel to one another. Rather than holding books, these automated loading racks housed fusion torpedoes that were each capable of rendering a country the size of Egypt an unlivable wasteland. A quick count let him know that while these projectiles would certainly do a lot of damage, there were not nearly enough to destroy the entire planet. If there was a nefarious plot, then Earth’s global destruction would have to come by some other means.
The sound of voices from his left drew Tonwen’s attention in their direction. Past the last row of torpedo racks, he spotted shadows moving against the far wall. Staying light on his feet, he moved that direction until he was able to see the activity between a set of torpedo nose cones protruding from the end of a loading rack. On the other side he observed four Novi standing around a worktable with an opened torpedo casing on it. On the floor behind them sat two opened cargo containers with four, three-foot diameter cylinders inside each.
“The weapons won’t fit inside the body of a torpedo in their current containers,” one of them said. “We’ll need to either open the cylinders and manually load the contents into each torpedo or we’ll have to engineer some other way to deliver and disperse the contents into the planet’s atmosphere.”
“If you open those cylinders, you’re on your own. I’m not about to start making things up as I go along while handling explosives and a biological weapon. Nothing is worth the risk of spending the rest of this lifetime deformed or worse,” another protested.
“I think we should pair each cylinder with a torpedo and a gravity lift platform,” a third Novi suggested. “That way we can use shuttles to place them at the ideal position and altitude in the atmosphere. They would hover there until all are in position and ready for detonation at the same time.”
“I agree,” the fourth added. “The safety issues aside, it would be the most effective way to do it. Detonating the cylinders in the atmosphere would have the double benefit of destroying eight of their most populated centers and effectively spread the contagion around the globe via the airflow of their jet stream systems. We’d achieve almost total reduction of the global population within a few weeks.”
“Let’s get to work then. The admiral anticipates the Nexus device will be onboard within the next standard cycle.
She wants this weapon system ready for delivery by then,” the first Novi said as he looked up from the torpedo casing. His eyes passed over Tonwen’s concealed position, but then came back and narrowed to look straight at him.
As if on cue, an alarm claxon began blaring its rhythmic screech when their eyes met. Tonwen used that moment of confusion to his advantage as he darted around the loading rack to attack the four munitions experts.
One shoulder check, two punches, and a kick later to the fragile beings and Tonwen was the only one in the armory still conscious; however that would not be the case for long. He wasted no time pulling one of the weapons cylinders out of the nearest cargo container to evaluate its contents. Amid a myriad of warning labels and handling instructions, he found the description of Yersinia Pestis Virus.
“Virus,” Tonwen said aloud in disbelief. “My God.”
Tonwen reached straight for the stamp-sized communications device and activated it to open a two-way communication channel. “Your suspicions are confirmed, those two weapon containers were carrying a biological weapon to be dispersed into the planet’s atmosphere.”
“How much damage could these weapons do?” Pacis asked.
“Total,” was Tonwen’s simple answer. “The Alpha unleashed the bacterial form of this weapon on Earth several hundred years ago and it nearly eradicated the humans. We distributed a cure in time to avert total disaster, but there would be no stopping a viral form of the contagion.”
“You must relay this information to Captain Hastelloy immediately,” Tonwen said just as he heard the armory’s main door give way to an explosive charge used against it.
“We will,” Pacis said right before Tonwen swallowed the device to eliminate any ties he had to his new allies.
“Don’t move,” a security guard ordered of Tonwen with fifteen more armed guards backing his demand with wave blasters.
“Or what? If you kill me, my captain will never turn over the Nexus device to you,” Tonwen scoffed.
“Well that won’t do now will it?” the guard growled and flipped a lever on his weapon to stun. “See you when you wake up.”
Before Tonwen had time to think, a bolt of electric blue light leapt out of the weapon’s barrel and hit him square in the chest. The sensation was similar to a person touching a 9-volt battery to their tongue; the shock was uncomfortable, yet bearable. The weapon was configured to incapacitate a Novi body, but they would learn very quickly that a human form did not go down so easily.
Tonwen took three menacing steps heading for the source of his discomfort, but failed to reach it as another dozen bolts of blue electricity struck him from the other guards. Where he almost laughed at the effects of a single hit, this onslaught was no laughing matter. Tonwen’s muscles involuntarily locked up and sent him tumbling forward onto the floor. He managed to continue crawling forward until another wave of electricity rendered him unconscious.
Chapter 19: Justification
Like a bright light approaching through the darkness of a dense fog, Tonwen felt the state of consciousness creep its way back into his mind. At first it was an indistinguishable blur, but soon the light drew near and brought with it illumination of his surroundings.
Tonwen opened his eyes and tried to rotate his head and have a look around, but somewhere between his brain and his muscles, the message was lost. No matter how hard he tried to move it, his head remained fixed in place. Attempts to reposition his arms and legs met equal futility. The only part of his body responding to his mind’s request was his eyes.
He glanced downward to find himself seated cross-legged on the floor with his hands lying relaxed in his lap. Tonwen moved his eyes upward where he was barely able to see a blue haze emanating from an antenna in the ceiling holding his body in place. The paralysis beam was old technology, but still effective.
“Admiral, the prisoner’s regained consciousness,” a male voice said drawing Tonwen’s eyes to the right in search of the owner. There, leaning against the wall, he spotted a guard touching a device mounted on the underside of his left wrist.
“Acknowledged,” an efficient, female voice responded through the communicator. The guard stood there staring at Tonwen as though he were an exotic piece of artwork on display. Five long, silent minutes passed before a door opened to Tonwen’s left, granting the admiral entry into the room with a guard in tow.
Tonwen’s seated position on the floor was at eye level with the Admiral. He followed her contemptuous stare with his eyes as she paced toward him. He lost visual track when she moved behind him to settle into his blind spot. With every passing second she remained back there, Tonwen could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise to stand on end.
Her agonizing, slow footsteps continued around to his other side. As the admiral emerged from his blind spot, she asked in a patient, level tone, “Why were you in my armory?”
Tonwen tried to enunciate a reply, but found his mouth still frozen.
“Oh how silly of me. You can’t answer my question in your current state. Allow me to fix that,” the admiral said in an accommodating voice. She reached out and touched Tonwen on his mouth with a hand that wore a silver colored glove that extended halfway up her forearm. Her soft touch released the beam and enabled Tonwen to work his lips, jaw, and vocal chords. “Speak.”
Tonwen imagined a less seasoned individual might be intimidated by the hollow show of power. Others might fall for the notion that the admiral was their friend and savior by possessing the ability to grant them the use of their body once again. Neither impressed Tonwen much as he channeled Gallono’s sarcasm to deliver his reply, “I am afraid it is a big ship and I could not help but get lost.”
“Hmm, you were three levels down from the mess hall you were escorted to under guard,” the admiral mused. “I take it neither of your escorts nor my two security guards posted outside the secured armory area you breached were able to direct you back to an appropriate location?”
“I am sorry to report that all of them were asleep on duty and of no help,” Tonwen continued.
“So naturally you broke into the armory to ask the technicians inside for assistance,” the admiral suggested, playing along with mild amusement in her patient voice.
Despite that, Tonwen sensed the tone of the conversation veering to the more serious. With that in mind he fired off one more barb to try and keep the admiral off balance. “We think alike, you and I. That means you should already know the answer as to why I was inside that armory.”
“Snooping,” the admiral responded with all traces of amusement long gone from her voice.
“More like following up on a hunch,” Tonwen volleyed back.
“Your hunch or that of Captain Hastelloy?”
“Does it really matter?”
“You were caught engaging in an act of espionage against your own people, against those sent here to rescue you no less,” the admiral accused. “Whether you were ordered to do that by your superior officer, or did it of your own volition is of paramount importance, especially to you personally. One possibly absolves you of responsibility while the other will find you guilty of a capital offense. Which is it?”
“The captain felt your behavior leading up to and including our meeting at Camp David was…suspicious; untrustworthy if you prefer. He ordered me to investigate and as it turned out, Captain Hastelloy was completely justified in his suspicions. Was he not?”
Even though Tonwen was woefully out of practice reading facial expressions on a Novi, the admiral’s glare of pure hatred was unmistakable. Undeterred, Tonwen pressed his point even further. “The Novi I knew and longed to return to for thousands of years would never carry such destructive biological weapons. You and your crew, on the other hand, not only carry them, but are intent on using them to exterminate a sentient race. What sort of leader, what sort of race does that?”
“One intent on keeping peace throughout the galaxy by any means necessary,” the admiral fired back. “There will never be anothe
r war like the one we fought against the Alpha. These humans have had their Neo Scale development path shattered by Captain Hastelloy’s interference. Advanced technology in the hands of these primitives poses an unacceptable risk.”
“You are incorrect,” Tonwen challenged while holding the admiral’s fiery glare. “Their path is accelerated I will grant you, but all four pans of the Neo Scale are still in perfect balance. They are exactly where they should be.”
“For now, but they know what is possible and will reach for it. Those scales will come out of balance. It is inevitable.”
If Tonwen had control of his facial muscles, he would have shot her a doubtful frown as he countered, “Then watch them. Engage them in diplomacy even, but do not eradicate them like some disease. They are a sentient, thriving culture. We as Novi need to respect that. Every soldier in the fleet swore an oath to respect other cultures through the council’s non-interference directive.”
The admiral’s scowl morphed into an amused grin, entertained by Tonwen’s perceived naivety no doubt, as she leaned in to say in a quiet voice, “You really are a specimen plucked from the days of old aren’t you? The days when cowards ruled the Council and handled the Alpha war with silk gloves.”
“What did that get us as a people?” the admiral asked as she stood at her full height, such that it was, once more. “Twenty thousand years of war, destruction, and hardship. When your Fifth Fleet was lost, the Novi wised up to the true risks and costs of constant warfare. Leaders eager to end the conflict took power, swiftly ended the war, and our people have known peace and prosperity ever since.”
“At what cost?” Tonwen asked. “There was honor in the manner in which the Novi behaved with their position of power in the galaxy. They showed respect, restraint, and even generosity to other worlds.”
“And we were attacked because of it,” the admiral countered. “You advocate weakness and there is no room for that in the Novi Republic, not anymore.”
Origins: A Greater Good Page 11