by T. D. Wilson
Hood smirked. “Negative on that one. There’s still a risk to his safety, so I’m afraid he’s going to have to stay where he is until morning.” Hood reached for the comm button. “Oh, please tell him that while on planet, he’ll be accompanied by a security detail at all times.” Hood’s smirk turned into a grin. “He’ll understand.”
Wells started to laugh. “Will do, Captain. Good night.”
Hood closed the channel, picked up his cookie and went over to his bed. He was about to sit down when he noticed the small table that held his current chess game with Lieutenant Aldridge. With all the commotion on board ship, he’d forgotten to make his next move. In this latest match, Hood had chosen to go on the offensive and traded pieces with his tactical officer whenever the chance presented itself. One of his exchanges had proven fruitful and Hood managed to take one of Aldridge’s bishops in addition to a pawn.
Hood studied the board. He was in a strong position, but Aldridge had managed to stop the bleeding and shore up her defense on one side of the board. The other side appeared open, but as Hood put the next few moves into his head, he could see Aldridge’s deceptive strategy. She let me take that bishop!
Aldridge’s strategy was a wounded leg maneuver designed to lull him into a sense of security, while she opened the other side of the board for her queen and remaining bishop to exploit. The strategy was simple and ingenious at the same time. Hood moved his queen-side knight toward the middle of the board in a countermove to stall Aldridge’s plans.
Feeling more comfortable about his current position, Hood sat down and finished the cookie in two bites. As he swallowed the last delicious bits, a thought came to him. Hood leaned forward and examined the board one more time. His tactical officer was learning, all right, and her new strategy gave him an interesting idea. Hood lay back on the bed and played out the new idea in his head.
Unknown Vessel
Second Moon, Cygni 4
Monday, January 27
Earth Year 2155
The commander of the vessel activated a terminal next to him, and its light cast an eerie glow on the darkened bridge of the small ship. It was cold inside the ship. He started to feel it through his lined EDF flight suit and now he could even see his breath. He shivered, but there was little else he could do. The ship had been running in a low power mode for hours and minimum life support was essential to concealing its location.
The long hours of waiting had made him tired. It was something he wasn’t used to. He rubbed his eyes and his cold hands cast away any of the drowsiness. Unwilling to wait any longer, he keyed in a command on the terminal, and a middle-aged man with an advanced receding hairline came into view.
“Your report is overdue.” The man’s voice sounded like a grave, deep and gravelly.
“My apologies, great one. We’ve taken position away from the Earth ship on the far side of one the planet’s moons. I didn’t want to risk any communication that might give away our position until our mission was complete.”
The man on the screen showed no sign that he cared. “What is the status of your operative on the planet? Have you made contact?”
He grimaced. “Negative, great one. There has been no word from him. I believe he might be lost to us.”
“Unfortunate, but not all is hinged upon him.” He couldn’t hear any sense of irritation his voice, but he could see it in the man’s eyes. “Move your ship out of the system and await further instructions. Be sure you are not detected. I will not accept failure from you again.”
“Yes, great one.”
The communication channel ended and the terminal switched off, returning the hidden ship to darkness.
Chapter Four
EDF Armstrong
Cygni 4
Tuesday, January 28
Earth Year 2155
Henry McCraken felt naked in a light shirt and lightweight pants as he walked from the shuttle landing site toward the Magellan main encampment. After listening to the stories of the higher humidity on the surface, he was certain his standard suit and tie would be an impediment and had opted for more relaxed attire.
A heavy rain had covered the camp during the night and the resulting moisture left a thin mist covering the ground. There were still puddles of water along the makeshift road, and McCraken bent down and scooped some of the wet dirt into his hand. The soil was reddish in color, but not thick like clay. He couldn’t wait to see what the colonists had found. They had made it and just as important, he had made it here.
Behind McCraken, the Armstrong’s medical contingent was already moving with their examination equipment toward the colony’s medical facility. Despite what Hood thought of him, McCraken was interested in the medical conditions of the colonists, and not for the reasons that had just come to light. The effects of the Embrace were important to be sure, but so were the effects of extended space travel and the impact on the colonists who lived outside a protective dome on a distant alien world. What McCraken had told Hood before was true. Humanity needed a new world similar to Earth to expand and it needed one soon.
But if this world was viable, the EDF would need someone to broker settlements, ferry those seeking a life out here to this new world and get them a strong, fresh start. Epherium’s position on the front lines examining the world’s potential for humanity would bolster its influence back home and make them the choice for anyone who would want to travel to Cygni, or any other colony world. Not to mention, it would no doubt make McCraken a very rich man.
All that stood in the way were the Cilik’ti. So far, there had been no sightings, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be. The ever-present fear of a new conflict would cripple any efforts at colonization. It was all so close, and one event could tear it all down.
McCraken kept pace with the medical staff for most of the trip. While he walked, McCraken took in every view of this fascinating planet, but he needed to meet with the Magellan’s command crew and research leads. Regardless of what had happened, there were still important protocols to follow, and he intended to make up for lost time. Upon receiving Hood’s “recommendation,” the Armstrong’s amazon of a security officer placed two plainclothes security guards as his personal escorts. To everyone else, they were his staff, but to McCraken they were his leash. A leash he knew Greywalker would love to keep yanking if she got the chance. The constant shadowing of his movements was unnerving and unnecessary, but McCraken absolutely did not leave their sight.
He stopped several times to put in some quality face time with the colonists and discuss their current efforts. He addressed them by name—their new names—and took close care to probe questions that would test the knowledge included in their programmed personality. He’d spent a considerable amount of time committing the names and functions of the colonists to memory. The problem was matching those names to a face. It was always a weakness of his, but once he got someone to talk, he was golden.
It took a full hour for McCraken and his security entourage to reach the large domed building at the base of the Magellan. He put his hands on his hips and stared in awe at the building and the huge colony ship just beyond. It was all too surreal.
Just inside the building, McCraken recognized Jonathan Hood talking with two other colonists, but before he could move any closer, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Admiring your company’s handiwork, Henry?” Captain Hood asked in a polite and welcoming tone.
McCraken put on his best smile and turned to face the Armstrong’s captain. “Well, good morning, Captain.” To McCraken’s surprise, the Armstrong’s CO was alone and not in the presence of his security officer or his XO. Both of them were as annoying as their captain and having them here together would only amplify the headaches their presence inflicted upon him. “Yes, I am. It’s remarkable what years of hard work can accomplish.” He gestured toward the Magellan. “She’s
a thing of beauty.”
“For once, Henry, we are in agreement.” Hood studied a couple of the other colonists as they walked past. “Did you instruct the medical team to know what to be wary of in their scans?” Hood whispered so no one else would hear.
McCraken acknowledged with a single nod. “Yes, I updated their information with the latest brain wave scan data on the colonists and instructed them to take notice of certain markers.” McCraken waved to one of the colonists he met earlier as she walked by. “All in all, they appear to be adapted into their new lives. Far better than what some of them used to be.”
“That debate is far from over, but yes, they do seem to have assumed what roles your people installed for them. Do you notice anything else?”
McCraken studied a group of colonists across the road for a moment. “No, should I have?”
“Look at their faces, even their hands. Compare them to your data before they left. These people haven’t aged a day.”
“Ah!” McCraken exclaimed. “That was a feature, Captain.”
Hood crossed his arms in skepticism. “A feature?”
“Yes. The Embrace had two primary functions. The first and foremost one was to preserve the mental state of the occupant while inside through the use of our stimulus programs, but just as important, it needed to preserve their bodies. The cryogenic process put them in a stasis that slowed the aging process over one thousand times.” McCraken caught sight of Major McGregor and some of the Marines walking up the road and waved to them. “With the aging process slowed down, the colonists could walk out of the chambers feeling as though the trip had taken a few days, not twenty-five years. It would allow them to start their work in their prime, not as middle-aged or later.”
Hood’s skepticism faded from his face. “I see your point. It’s all just a bit unnerving.” He peered at his uncle. “There’s no record of any rapid cell degeneration after long-term stasis?”
“No,” McCraken felt confident about that. “All our trials showed no signs of decay, and records from early EEF operations confirmed it based on routine medical exams. As a precaution, I added that to the list of things the medical team needed to check. If there were any effects, they would have set in by now.”
While he was talking, McCraken noticed a man running from the communication building toward Jonathan Hood at a furious pace. The man seemed animated as he communicated whatever information he possessed. Finally, Jonathan motioned for the man to calm down and they both jogged over to Hood and McCraken.
“James, we just got a message from Gina. She said their team found something remarkable in the canyon. She’s requested we send a team out to help them.”
“Did she say what it was?” Hood replied and raised an eyebrow in interest.
McCraken stayed silent. Experience had taught him that he could learn more by keeping on the sidelines and interjecting when it fit his interests. It was his fly-on-the-wall technique and it had served him well over the years.
The communications tech was about to speak, but Jonathan held up his hand. “We’re not really sure. Gina claimed to have found some sort of archaeological discovery, but it might or might not be related to the fossils they were studying. The transmission was poor and cut off before we could get any more details.” Jonathan motioned toward the tech. “Jackson here confirmed it was Gina’s voiceprint.”
McCraken could sense that both the Hood men were thrilled, but he noticed Captain Hood’s mood dampen. He had seen it before on board the Armstrong. It was a look of caution.
“Commander,” Hood started. McCraken wasn’t sure why Hood called his uncle by his rank, other than to be official. “I know it’s your people, but this colony is under EDF jurisdiction. I want a list of personnel you recommend to go out to the site, but I’m responsible for final approval. When we’re ready, I’ll have two shuttles prepped and we’ll head out there.”
McGregor joined the group just as Jonathan explained the news. “Captain, I request my boys be given the opportunity to check it out first. It could be dangerous.”
“Request noted, Major. I want you and a squad to accompany myself and Commander Hood, because we’ll be heading out to that canyon as part of the team.” From the frown on the major’s face, McCraken could tell McGregor was more than uncomfortable with Hood’s decision. He gathered it wasn’t the first time in his career that Hood had used his authority to push the envelope. It was his call after all, and McCraken made sure to take note of it for later.
The burly Marine’s disapproval faded, he saluted, then led his men in a run back toward the shuttle landing site to prepare. Hood turned back to his uncle. “You’re sure Gina mentioned an archaeological find?”
“According to my communications officer, she mentioned it twice. The first rover team reported strange rock formations and fossils embedded in the canyon wall, but that was it. This has to be something new,” Jonathan explained, a trace of worry in his voice.
Hood opened a comm channel to the Armstrong on his wrist comm. Lieutenant Wells’s voice came over the channel. “This is the Armstrong, Captain. Go ahead.”
Hood checked the time on his comm band. “Lieutenant, I have a situation that might require your language and translation skills. The next shuttle leaves in fifteen minutes. I want you on it.”
“Aye, sir. On my way,” Wells said with an air of excitement in her voice.
McCraken was excited too. An archaeological find could mean several things and there were multiple upsides. He was sure Hood wouldn’t let him go out there, at least not yet. There wasn’t even a point in asking. He heard footsteps from behind and his shoulders sank as his security escort moved closer. For now he wasn’t going anywhere, but the sooner he got rid of Greywalker’s goons, the better.
* * *
Lieutenant Wells stared out at the clouds that blanketed the countryside below. The clouds were high and thick and reminded her of a mesh of huge cotton balls. The view seemed so serene and relaxing, yet Wells still had to stop her foot from tapping the floor in excitement. Within the confinement of the shuttle, she couldn’t find another outlet. It was just too good to be true—her first trip planet-side and she was already off on a mission.
Before she’d left the Armstrong, Wells had run into Lieutenant Krieg in the hangar. She hadn’t seen his face since his mission to apprehend Lieutenant Commander Walsh, when he’d fled the Armstrong in the asteroid field a few days earlier. Krieg wished her well, but said he would miss her sexy voice over the comms while she was away. His comment made her blush, but she just smiled back. Krieg was fun, dashing and handsome. All the qualities she admired. But Rook Squadron’s leader was a complex combination. Krieg seemed so full of himself and kind at the same time. Wells shook her head. Didn’t you learn anything at the academy? Fighter pilots are bad for your career, girl.
Wells put Krieg out of her mind for now and leaned forward to catch a view of the second shuttle trailing just off their rear port quarter. Of the twenty people headed to the canyon, the first shuttle carried herself, Captain Hood, his uncle, Major McGregor and a squad of Marines. The second shuttle carried Caris, the colony’s chief researcher, and a team of geologists. Wells was confused about the need for geologists on an archaeological mission, but McGregor had given her a quick overview of his plan to use the caves for the colony’s defense, and she got the picture.
“Lieutenant, where did the last scans from the Armstrong place the colonists in the canyon?” Hood asked, startling her. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Hood and McGregor had moved to seats right next to her.
Wells pulled out her data pad and accessed the Armstrong’s scan data. “About two clicks inside the canyon from this end. The canyon snakes around for about twenty clicks and this is the closest way in. It gets pretty steep on the edges, and the width of the canyon varies.”
“Ca
n we land the shuttles inside it?”
Wells pulled up the terrain data and shook her head. “Negative. The canyon’s too narrow. At best I would think twenty meters wide at any one point.”
Hood nodded and moved forward to the pilot’s compartment.
Wells saw the copilot grab Hood’s attention through open door and point to the shuttle’s heads-up display. “Captain, we picked up on the exploration team’s communication relay. Sensors put it on the edge of the canyon wall near the mouth.”
“Set us down at the beacon, Ensign. We’ll enter the canyon there.”
Both pilots acknowledged with a thumbs-up, and Hood went back to join the others.
The remaining trip lasted about ten minutes and the shuttles descended through the cloud deck to land just east of the sloping canyon entrance. Before he left the shuttle, Hood instructed the pilots to keep in contact with the Armstrong and the mission team at twenty-minute intervals. Major McGregor and Hood agreed that if contact with the mission team was lost and not reestablished after three intervals, the shuttles were to return to the Armstrong and initiate a full rescue operation.
As the mission team exited the shuttles, one of the Marines jogged out to the beacon, examined it and hurried back. “The beacon is operational, sir, and I’m detecting a good signal,” the comm specialist reported. “If we’re still seeing interference, it’s the gear down in the canyon or the signals are too weak to reach it. The tech is a little outdated, but I could probably hack in and check its logs. It might take me an hour or so, depending on the protocol.”
“Not necessary,” Hood said. “If we can’t make contact in the next few hours, we’ll return and let you try. For now, let’s get down there.”
The Marine escort team split the mission personnel into three groups and spaced each ten meters apart. Wells stayed in the front group with Captain Hood and Major McGregor. One of the Marines, a young man Wells thought was just under twenty years of age, sprinted forward to take point. McGregor instructed the remaining Marines to flank the groups on both sides and placed the squad’s leader in the rear.