The Epherium Chronicles: Crucible

by T. D. Wilson

  Then a loud whistle came from the head table, followed by a thunderous call. “Shut it!”

  Everyone fell silent. Hood turned back to the table and saw Major McGregor standing tall in front of it, his face already turning red.

  “I wasn’t finished!” he bellowed to the crowd. He gazed about the crowd with steel in his eyes until he had captured everyone’s undivided attention. “Captain Hood is correct. The Tikis don’t think we’re food.” He looked down at the nurse who’d asked the question. “Aye, lass. I did see many a terrible thing in my time in war and witnessing that was one of ‘em. Ya see, when we suffer injury, our bodies work to clot and heal, but it takes time. We use our med packs and treatment centers to accelerate the process. A quick tab of our closure gels would disinfect the wound and bind the skin back together. The Tikis do it different. Their bodies can regenerate at a fantastic rate, but they need to consume fresh organic material to fuel it. Burns, gouges and even missing limbs can be healed in a matter of hours.”

  The nurse listened to his every word and smiled at him.

  He returned it, glanced at the table to his left and gestured for the woman to take her seat. “On the rocky battlefields of Mars, there was nothing for ’em to use except the fallen or those near death,” he said in a solemn tone. “The wounded Tikis who were prepared to continue the fight fed on human and Tiki flesh alike to heal their wounds. I vowed then and there not to leave a battlefield with our troops still there to fuel their own, and I never have.”

  The silence in the huge dining area was deafening. McGregor strode back behind the main table and stood behind his chair. “We all saw dark days in those fights, but we overcame. I can promise ya this. If they come here, they’ll regret it.”

  Jonathan Hood stood from his seat and patted the huge Marine on his shoulder. “Thank you, Major,” he whispered, and McGregor gave a curt nod in acceptance. Jonathan walked in front of the table and stood by Hood. “Everyone, I know we’ve got a good deal of information to digest this evening, so I want you all to get some rest and think on it. The Armstrong and these fine Marines are here to protect us, but also to show us how to defend ourselves should the need arise. In the morning, I want volunteers to assemble in the mess to begin reviewing defensive strategies for the colony and basic combat training from Major McGregor’s people. Thank you, everyone.”

  Most of the colonists continued to have smaller conversation at their tables after the meal concluded, but some made their way to the main table to meet with Hood and his staff. Hood spoke to them for a couple of minutes, but there was a growing crowd now around McGregor. Hood admired how he interacted with them. For a man of action and few words, it was those brief words he’d spoken that had ignited a spark and forged a bond with the colonists.

  On the inside, Hood applauded his friend’s success and walked out of the dining hall. He followed the path past the small buildings on the edge of the encampment. On the left side of the path was a large tree. Hood moved under its inviting branches and leaned against its solid trunk. The Cygni sun was just setting on the far horizon, and he watched the sky bathe in a sea of brilliant orange and red colors. He pulled a small twig from the tree and twirled it in his fingers. Hope. Everyone back home is looking for a chance at something new, something better and safer than they have now.

  Hood’s clouded optimism became a lot clearer, but he knew tomorrow always brought new challenges. Reaching this new world was a great success, but keeping it safe, that was a different story. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a figure dart away in the distance. Judging by its size, he was positive it was one of those Night Cats. The animal sprinted to another position outside the camp’s perimeter. He glanced up at one of the sonic towers Jonathan’s people had installed then back to the cat. It knew how close to come before the towers detected it. In a flash, the black cat sprinted off into the distance. It seems we’ve picked up another shadow.

  His wrist comm chimed, and he sighed. His shuttle back to the Armstrong was ready to leave. The ride back would be long, but Hood welcomed the time to think. Tomorrow was a new day, and with what Lieutenant Greywalker had told him about Kingston, it would be very interesting indeed.

  Chapter Three

  EDF Armstrong

  Cygni 4

  Monday, January 27

  Earth Year 2155

  The shuttle ride to the lake camp from the colony’s main encampment was smooth—considering the low altitude the pilot chose—for the majority of the trip. Flying in atmosphere even at four kilometers off the ground could still prove to be bumpy. If the shuttle encountered any turbulence, the passengers didn’t notice.

  Hood sat across from his uncle near one of the starboard view ports, and both managed to take in the beautiful scenery that stretched out below them. The morning sun’s rays evaporated the early fog that permeated the area and provided a great view of the expansive tangled forest and rolling hills along their flight path.

  With the colony restricted to ground rovers for most of their movement, Jonathan welcomed the opportunity to hop into a shuttle again but he admitted he felt lost in the back as a passenger and not at the controls. The Magellan didn’t contain any shuttle craft per se as part of her standard equipment, but the ship was designed to use specific pieces of the hull to construct them, as was done with the large domed building at the main encampment. Jonathan mentioned to Hood that the next phase of the colony’s expansion was to create a new camp five hundred kilometers away, and shuttles would be built to support it.

  The lake was larger than Hood expected, and from the air, he put the size similar to Lake Superior in North America. As the shuttle began its approach to the lakeside encampment, he noted several medium-sized streams that led south away from the lake, but there were no inlets from any other direction. The water was cerulean blue in color and even though it was quite deep, Hood could see several meters into the water from his current vantage point.

  Hood pointed out the water’s color to his uncle. Jonathan explained that the lake was fed by an underwater river. The cycle seemed to keep the lake free of any natural contaminants like algae overgrowth, providing a safe, potable water supply.

  The shuttle rotated as it set down, and Hood got his first glimpse of the boat the colonists had constructed. It was still moored at the nearby dock on the southern shore. The hull was a dark red wood and she spanned twenty-five meters in the length of her keel. In the center of the boat, a single sail mast extended high above the deck. The sail was rolled in a tight bundle on the boom close to its base. Off the stern, two propeller systems extended into the water, and Hood could see what seemed to be a covered engine compartment.

  McGregor’s men had already arrived in the early morning and conducted their security sweeps in preparation of their arrival. As the boarding ramp descended from the shuttle, Hood noticed a familiar face standing at attention at the base of the ramp. It was Sergeant Toronaga, the Marine who’d first demonstrated the Marine All-terrain Armored Combat Exo-suit, MACE unit for short, to him aboard the Armstrong.

  Hood and his uncle walked down the ramp, and the Marine sergeant saluted them. The two officers snapped their own in return. “We completed our sweep, sirs. All is ready for your tour and inspection.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Hood replied. The Marine turned to step in stride with Hood and his uncle as they approached the rest of the colonists who awaited them. Talking to several of the colonists in the group was a stout man with salt-and-pepper short hair. Upon realizing the passengers had exited the shuttle, the man removed his dark sunglasses and walked up to Jonathan.

  Hood studied the man as he approached. The man’s gait was smooth and even. Despite his hardened features, he didn’t have a threatening manner.

  “Jon.” The man greeted the Magellan’s commander with a firm handshake. “So glad you made it out.” He noticed Sergeant Toronaga and pointe
d his thumb in his direction. “I wish you’d have told me the big guns were coming, I’d have rolled out the red carpet for them.”

  “Sorry, Harvey,” Jonathan said with a laugh. “They needed to come unannounced. Security protocols, you understand.”

  “Not to worry,” Harvey replied with a wink. He took a brief once-over of Hood and extended his hand. “Dr. Harvey Kingston, glad to meet you.”

  Hood had studied Kingston’s file—or rather, Descherra’s—during the trip. Several questions came to mind that he wanted to test Kingston with, just to be sure. But he didn’t know where to start. However, he knew who did. Hood extended his hand, and Kingston gripped it in a firm handshake. “Good to meet you at last, Dr. Kingston. I’m James Hood, captain of the EDF Armstrong.”

  Kingston’s eyebrow rose at hearing his name, gave him another quick once-over and then turned to Jonathan. “Relative of yours, Jon?”

  Jonathan placed his hand on Hood’s shoulder. “He’s my nephew.” There was a slight air of pride in his voice. “All grown up with a command of his own.”

  Hood felt himself flush at his uncle’s words. He heard the rest of the team walk down the boarding ramp and turned to catch sight of Maya. She was at the rear of the group, behind Caris, Major McGregor and three other researchers from the main encampment. Her red hair was tied back in a braid that folded into her security cap. As planned, Maya had shielded herself from Kingston’s sight until the last minute, when Hood introduced her. Now, she stepped in front of Kingston and looked him square in the face. Hood watched as Maya’s eyes gathered each movement, every detail. She’d told Hood her nose could sense his disposition and her ears could detect any change in the pace of his heartbeat.

  Kingston’s initial reaction was a slight flinch backward. Maya was nose to nose with him, but he relaxed, smiled a rather shy grin and offered to shake her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. Welcome to Cygni Echo Research Base.”

  Maya was passive as she shook his hand. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, keeping her voice even and emotionless. Hood could tell she was still studying him. Maya had mentioned she’d had several run-ins with Descherra before his arrest and she was sure the real Descherra would recognize her. Hood had no doubt that, in her mind, there was no mistaking him. But if Epherium’s programming had worked, the Descherra she knew was gone.

  Stepping away from Maya, Kingston turned and waved for everyone to follow him toward the lake. About halfway to the lakeshore, Kingston slowed his pace and walked beside Hood, who was still admiring the water. “So, Captain, I got the quick rundown on these aliens you call the Cilik’ti from the Marines. Sound like a nasty bunch.”

  Hood felt a quick burst of anger at the mention of the aliens and scowled. “You have no idea.”

  Kingston described many of the lake’s features to the Armstrong’s captain, but as Hood listened, he looked past Kingston to the other Marines in the group. Operational security was standard command protocol, and every crew member and Marine understood that the details related to the Cilik’ti and the Armstrong’s mission were to come from him. They were not to be leaked or discussed piecemeal. Hood noted the operational protocol breach for later and continued to listen as if Kingston’s revelation hadn’t affected him.

  Kingston gave a detailed overview of the site’s research activities while they walked, and Hood was impressed by the amount of knowledge he conveyed. The research base had managed to catalog several types of plants, many similar to grains that could be grown and harvested. There seemed to be a renewed hope that Earth plants could be adapted to grow here, but would take time. Edible comparisons were being collected and analyzed, but only a handful had been flagged as poisonous to humans.

  Hood could see the boat now and, sensing an opportunity to interject, he pointed in its direction. “How long did it take you to build it? She’s impressive.”

  Kingston stopped and turned back toward the boat. “Thank you. Our team spent about three and a half weeks building her. Once we got her in the water, it’s been smooth sailing ever since.”

  “I saw the lake from overhead,” Hood said as he stepped onto the dock. “The water was pretty clear and I thought I noticed fish. What have you found so far?”

  “My team has brought in several varieties of freshwater fish here and even a few turtles, but the best thing is the underground water spring for the lake. Our tests show it to be an excellent pure water supply that flows down from the mountains to the west,” Kingston explained and led them down the dock toward the boat. He reached the primary boarding ramp and gestured for everyone to board.

  Hood stopped at the stern. There was a name printed in bold yellow letters on the reddish hull. Calypso. After noticing the others had begun to board, Hood walked the length of the craft and examined its construction. The man seems so likeable.

  “Interesting name for her,” Hood told Kingston as he boarded. “Calypso was the nymph in Homer’s Odyssey who held Odysseus on her island and tried to make him her husband.”

  “You’re correct. I enjoy reading about Greek mythology and I always keep a copy of that book around, but it was the famous ocean researcher Jacques Cousteau who gave me the inspiration for her name,” Kingston said with a jovial pat on the side of the boat. Hood joined him on the ramp and walked toward the rest of the group that had congregated near the stern. “The Calypso was his ship back in the twentieth century. Cousteau opened a whole new world of the Earth’s oceans to so many people. I thought we could honor his memory by giving the same name to this vessel.”

  Kingston spent the next hour explaining the latest efforts of the camp’s newest research vessel. The team’s sonar arrays had mapped a third of the lake’s underwater terrain. Caris seemed impressed by the level of progress the research team had made, and Hood pointed out to Kingston’s team that the Armstrong had already set up a broader network of satellites in orbit that could assist them in their work. The news seemed to create an ecstatic buzz among the many teams in the lakeside camp.

  The tour of the boat was what Hood had been waiting for. He got to step onto a real sailboat, and it gave Maya a chance to interview many of the other colonists. Every few minutes, Hood caught quick glimpses of her talking to different people. She’d told him she had memorized each of the profiles from Epherium’s data, both the good and the bad. Her talents continued to impress him, but this time he hoped she didn’t find anything wrong.

  After the tour of the boat concluded, Hood set up another meeting with residents of the remote base similar to the one he’d held at the main encampment. The reaction to the information he presented was more subdued than the previous day, but he noticed many of the attendees went to Kingston for reassurance and not Jonathan or Caris. Charisma was one thing, but maybe having lived away from the other colonists for a few weeks had helped to develop a more trustful bond to Kingston. It was possible, but he needed more of his people’s perspective to be sure.

  Before the meeting, Hood mentioned to Maya and McGregor the discussion he and Kingston had after their arrival, especially the part about his knowledge of the Cilik’ti. Determined to identify the source of the breach, McGregor gathered his men in groups of two outside the main building. While Hood spoke, the Marine commander performed his own investigation.

  As the Cygni sun began to set on the horizon, Hood said his goodbyes to those he’d met at the meeting earlier. Afterward, he tried to quantify the difference of the mind-set of the colonists here versus the ones back at the Magellan. Something was different, just ever so slight, but he couldn’t narrow it down. Everyone was nice—almost too nice. It was unsettling. Hood wondered if Maya sensed it too.

  Hood headed toward the shuttle waiting to take him back to the main encampment. As the others began to board, he noticed Maya standing at the side of the boarding ramp. Her arms were crossed and her face was in a most unflattering scowl.

 
Hood yawned and walked over to his red-haired security officer. “Whatsamatter, Lieutenant? You’ve got that ‘I just don’t believe it’ look on your face.”

  Maya’s nostrils flared in frustration. “That’s just it, Captain. I don’t believe it.”

  Hood glanced back at the research base and the boat for a few moments then turned back toward Maya. He needed her to let him know what she thought. He had already seen her punish herself for the deaths of some her security team back on the Armstrong. He required her insight, but not a clouded one. It was vital that she lock away her past bias with Descherra and give him a fair assessment of Kingston.

  “What don’t you believe, Lieutenant?” Hood leaned back against the rail of the boarding ramp. “After the first day at the Magellan site, you gave the colonists a strong report. Today, I saw more of the same thing, except it was a bit too perfect for me.” Hood smiled at his junior officer, hoping to improve her mood. “I don’t know. I’m as skeptical as you, but I’m more inclined to think this whole personality reprogramming might be working.”

  Maya glared at him, her lips quivering in agitation, but she didn’t say anything. During the meeting with the lake camp colonists, Kingston had chosen to sit with the colonists and not up front with the Armstrong and Magellan camp representatives. She never took her eyes off him. She tried to cover by peering over the crowd, but Hood knew better.

  Hood wanted to give her some closure. “Listen, Lieutenant. Descherra is gone. You’re going to have to accept that. What Epherium did, right or wrong, has given these people new lives and in the process, might have helped us all in forging new homes out here.”

  “Believe what you want, sir. I’ve known him for too long. You don’t know the things he’s done,” Maya seethed. Her eyes narrowed and she turned her head away from Hood toward the lake. “I don’t care what Epherium has done. In my opinion, he’s gotten off too easy.” She leveled her bright blue eyes back to Hood’s. “I don’t trust him.”