by Sarah Noffke
Investigation
Precious Galaxy Book Two
Sarah Noffke
Michael Anderle
Craig Martelle
Investigation (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Sarah Noffke and Michael Anderle
Cover by Jeff Brown, http://jeffbrowngraphics.com/
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, July 2018
The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2018 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Author Notes - Sarah Noffke
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
About Sarah Noffke
Acknowledgements
Books By Sarah Noffke
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
Investigation Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
John Ashmore
Mary Morris
Peter Manis
Kelly O’Donnell
Micky Cocker
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
Jen McDonnell
To Suzie for encouraging me.
To Diane for reminding me.
To Pavi for celebrating every win with me.
I owe many a success to the support of my friends.
-Sarah
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live the Life We Are
Called.
-Michael
Chapter One
Monstre Corporation Headquarters, Planet Carina, Aurelis System, Precious Galaxy
The sound of Solomon Vance’s shoe made a sharp clacking sound as he tapped it on the white tile floor. His mother used to tell him that patience was a virtue. She was constantly spouting clichés that were inherently false.
Currently, Solomon’s patience was at an all-time low, as he stared at the back of the head of the scientist who sat at the main control center.
“We’re going to try it again,” he ordered.
Susan turned, her loose bun nearly falling out from the movement. “But sir, don’t you think we should make some changes to the process first? We lost two consciousnesses with the current protocol.”
“You’re fired,” Solomon spat, his lips forming a hard line.
Susan’s mouth popped open with alarm. She would know he wasn’t kidding, but it had to be a hard reality for her to accept. Thirteen years she’d worked for Solomon; he’d recruited her right out of school. Maybe this snap judgement was a result of his low patience, but he wasn’t about to go back on it.
“But, but, but—”
Solomon cut her off with a curt shake of his head. “You know better than to argue with me.”
“Yes, sir, I only thought—”
“Maybe it is you who lost the consciousnesses,” Solomon interrupted.
Susan shook her head furiously, visibly shaking. “I only did what the protocol dictated.”
Solomon put his back to the scientist, his eyes on the distant corner of the all-white room. “Dean, prepare the memory wash chamber immediately. Susan Gibbons will be there very soon.”
“Yes, sir,” the AI answered overhead. “The chamber will be ready in two and a half minutes.”
When Solomon turned back, he was revolted by the sight before him. Susan was crying, her nose turning red and tears streaming from her eyes.
“Oh, and Dean?”
“Yes, sir?” the AI replied.
He ran his hand absentmindedly down the sleeve of his suit jacket, smoothing it out as if there were wrinkles. “Send in another level-four scientist to replace Susan.”
“I anticipated this and have already paged Bruce James,” the AI informed him.
Solomon released a steady breath. Why can’t everyone be as efficient, he wondered.
“Sir, please,” Susan begged. “Please give me another chance.”
He shook his head. “You know the rules.”
“But my memories,” she argued.
This only confirmed for Solomon that he had made the right call. Susan had forgotten her place at Monstre Corp. She thought her opinion mattered. That Solomon tolerated insubordination.
“Your memories are the property of Monstre Corp. You know that.”
“Please let me keep them,” Susan begged, more tears falling. “I promise I won’t talk. I won’t tell anyone what happens here.”
Solomon released a sadistic smile. “There’s only one way for me to ensure that.” He lifted his hand, his silver ring with the gnarly-headed monster catching the light as he pointed. “The memory wash chamber is expecting you.”
A loud wail echoed from Susan as she turned, hurrying for the entrance with her head down. The glass door opened as she neared, and Bruce James, a thin, young man, held it open for her. If he was curious about why Susan was crying, his face didn’t show it.
Bruce strode over to Solomon, his chin even. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
Solomon pointed to the seat Susan had vacated. “I need you to run the consciousness transfer process.”
Not missing a beat, Bruce pulled out the chair, sat down and began typing. “Which consciousnesses should I use?”
Solomon turned toward the row of windows that overlooked the Chumash forest, a place that had been reported to have high levels of radiation and was therefore uninhabited and classified as a no-fly zone. Obviously the forest was safe; he’d planted the reports about the radiation levels. It was the perfect location for his headquarters, with views of endless forest and protected from spying eyes. The building, a flat structure, blended into the landscape, even at the top of one of the highest peaks.
“Use tw
o level-one consciousnesses,” Solomon ordered, staring at his own reflection in the window.
His long forehead was lined with wrinkles, but his eyes were still youthful. His bald head reflected the light above. He ran his hand over his scalp, enjoying its smoothness.
Bruce typed on the keyboard, pulling up a file. “I have two miners from Phoenix Tech.”
“That will work.” Solomon turned, his eyes swiveling up to the large screen.
Bruce double-clicked the mouse, pulling up a 3D image of a face. It rotated, the man’s eyes widening, trying to look around.
“Hello! Is anyone there?” the man on the screen asked.
Solomon placed his hands behind his back and lowered his chin, giving Bruce a commanding glare.
The scientist cleared his throat. “Bob Howard, can you hear me?”
“Hello! Yes! Where am I?” the man yelled, his face showing his stress, as wrinkles sprang to his eyes.
“Hold on,” Bruce ordered, typing. The image of Bob Howard disappeared, replaced with the 3D graphic of another face, a man about the same age as the first.
“Tom Culver,” Bruce stated. “Can you hear me?”
The man blinked rapidly in astonishment before a grimace took over his face. “Let me out of here! What have you done?”
Solomon gave Bruce a forceful nod. The scientist agreed silently, pulling up both images on the screen. The faces rotated, looking around but not actually being able to see anything. A copy of their physical bodies was stored in the database, locked in their file with a sample of their DNA, should they ever need it. However, it wasn’t necessary to grant them a body in the database. It would only confuse things.
“Okay, I’ve only got to erase the physical composition of the first subject,” Bruce said, leaning over the keyboard and typing. A cursor ran over the image of Bob Howard, erasing him one line at a time.
“What’s going on?” Bob asked, his voice frantic.
Bruce turned to Solomon, a proud smile on his face. “Don’t worry. I have them muted.”
“I’m not worried,” Solomon said flatly.
“Aggghhh!” Bob yelled. “Something is happening to me!”
Bruce shook his head, tapping his fingers on the desk, his eyes intent on the smaller screen in front of him. “You’re not feeling anything. I’ve only deleted your physical composition files.” Bruce looked up at Solomon with a laugh. “Maybe he feels a little naked.”
Solomon’s face remained stony. “Now copy his consciousness into the second subject.”
Bruce’s smile dropped as he looked back at the screen. “No problem.” He jabbed at a few keys. “That should do it.”
A progress bar popped up on the screen, starting at ten percent. Solomon watched as it increased, everything in Bob Howard’s consciousness downloading into Tom Culver’s.
That had been a part of the plan from the beginning, besides having a database of brilliant minds. The end goal was always to have all the minds compressed into one; the single smartest mind of all time at Solomon’s disposal. A computer powered by actual minds, and Solomon as the sole user.
A red box popped up on the screen. Just like before.
The white words were a bold contrast against the red of the box. ‘Transfer failed’.
Solomon let out a sigh. Again, they’d lost two more consciousness. The transfer of one mind seemed to overload the other, killing them both.
“Let’s try it again,” he ordered, turning again to look out at the serene forest, where the trees towered, the giants of this land.
Chapter Two
Bridge, Ricky Bobby, Cacama System, Precious Galaxy
The black gaseous monster drifted like fog on the wind, covering distant stars as it progressed. The battlecruiser kept a safe distance from the biosynthetic beast to ensure that it didn’t sense it was being followed.
Dr. A’Din Hatcherik stared out the viewing windows of the bridge, his mind wandering.
“Did you hear what I said?” Jack Renfro asked.
Hatch waved a tentacle up and at his back dismissively. “Yes, of course. If we stay far enough away, the monster can’t take down our shields.”
“And with the cloaks, it shouldn’t know that we’re following it, correct?” Jack asked in confirmation.
“Yes, that’s right,” Hatch affirmed.
Lewis had tired of observing the beast. At first it had been fascinating to watch the strange organism float through space, headed toward the unknown. The monster moved like seaweed on the surface of the ocean, drifting with the waves. After a while, it had simply made the detective sleepy.
Jack clapped his hands, startling Lewis back to attention. “There’s our star student.”
Dejoure strode onto the bridge, Harley unsurprisingly by her side. She looked up, blinking in surprise, like she wasn’t sure who the chief strategist was referring to. “Hey.”
“Ricky Bobby, can I get the image of DJ’s drawing?” Jack asked, rolling up the sleeves of his blue button-up shirt.
The girl smiled when her drawing of the Precious galaxy popped up on the main screen.
“Here you are,” Ricky Bobby said overhead.
“Thank you.” Jack looked up at the screen before turning his attention to DJ. “Thanks for joining us. After studying this in relation to the Precious galaxy, I have a few questions for you.”
DJ pulled herself up to sit on the strategy table, which was dark. Its light hadn’t shone since Lewis set foot on the ship—since the crew of Ghost Squadron had disappeared.
“What is it?” she asked, letting her legs dangle over the edge, and slipping her small hands under her thighs like she was cold.
“You emphasized five points in the galaxy,” Jack began, “which are connected by this zigzagging line, both in your drawing and in the galaxy. It’s apparently a gas of some sort. I’ve determined the points to be five separate systems. My question is, what is the significance of these systems?”
Dejoure looked down with uncertainty, kicking her feet back and forth.
“You were trying to find Commander Fregin,” Lewis reminded her, trying to help the kid out. “Are those points related to her whereabouts?”
Dejoure’s green and brown eyes swiveled up, a bit of hope in her gaze. She nodded. “I think so.”
“So those are places where the commander has been?” Jack guessed.
“Or maybe it’s where she is,” Bailey offered.
“You can’t be in five places at once,” Lewis said, shaking his head.
“If you’re in a shared computer database, you can,” Bailey countered.
Hatch turned around, pointing a tentacle at his star student. “That’s exactly correct, Lieutenant. It’s most likely that the five points are where the databases are connected. Maybe the commander’s consciousness has been transferred from database to database.”
Jack nodded, combing his hand over his chin. “Okay, I could buy that. So Vance has locations all over this galaxy.”
“I suspect that Vance has picked this satellite galaxy because he can dominate it,” Hatch stated.
Jack pushed off from the console he was leaning against, now standing tall. “We have a lot of exploring to do. We need to find out exactly why he picked something so far out of Federation territory. That’s my next objective. I’m going to start researching these five different systems, and determine the most likely location for a database.”
Hatch waddled away from the bank of viewing windows. “And I suspect that the Precious galaxy isn’t as far from Federation territory as we might think. It nearly killed us to get here, but I’ve got a hunch that there’s a shortcut between this galaxy and the one we call home.”
Lewis’s eyes skipped to Bailey, who was returning his curious look.
“Oh?” Jack questioned.
Hatch pointed at the monster framed in the viewing window. “That awful beast didn’t slingshot off a blackhole to get here in record time. I’m pretty certain of that. I’ve been running so
me tests and found a huge spike of energy on the outer rim of the Precious galaxy, although it’s lessening by the hour.”
“Do you think the monster came through a gate?” Bailey asked.
Hatch nodded proudly at her. “Yes, and although a gate of this nature should be incredibly difficult to maintain, I’ve found something else of interest.”
“Now is not the time to quit talking,” Jack said with a laugh. “Continue, doctor.”
“There’s a high level of doromantinium where the energy spike registered,” Hatch explained.
“So you think that D-factor was used to create this gate,” Lewis stated.
Hatch pretended not to hear this observation. “You see, I believe that this gate was made using D-factor.”
Jack cut his eyes at his nephew, suppressing a grin. “Then it appears that the mineral has many uses.”
“Yes, and to be honest, this ship can’t slingshot back to Pan galaxy without suffering major repercussions,” Hatch stated.
Dejoure rubbed her temples. “Our brains would all be scrambled.”
Everyone on the bridge laughed from the unexpected joke. The girl looked down, blushing.