“Sure thing, Skipper. I’d like to see the look on the admiral’s face when he reads about the Niobians. Oh, and Captain, I put all the information I found on the Themis in your personal computer space.” The young lieutenant momentarily stiffened to attention, then disappeared.
Scott slid his portal shut and brushed his hand across the panel sensor to open the report Anton had prepared.
Ten minutes later, a loud knock sounded on the portal outside his cabin. He opened it and motioned for Anton to come in. “You again? I just started reading your report.”
Anton’s face was ashen, his pupils dark round orbs. “Captain, I’d like to talk to you about something else.” He stood in the portal way, feet apart with one foot pointed toward the corridor as if seeking escape from the brewing conversation.
“Come in.” Scott’s brows pinched as the portal door closed. “What is it?”
“Sir, I... I don’t know how it happened.”
“All right, Anton, say it. What happened?”
“I was preparing your message to Admiral Delmar when I happened to find something strange in the ECCO message log.” For a moment, Anton hesitated and chewed on his lip. “It’s just a little thing in the maintenance log, something you’d never notice unless you looked for it. Most ECCO users don’t even know it exists.
“Well? Out with it.”
“Skip... Skipper, the log count doesn’t come out right. ECCO keeps a count and a copy of all messages sent and received. The log count of sent messages doesn’t add up to the number of sent copies on file. I double-checked the file folder and exactly as ECCO reported, I came up one message short. The muscles in Anton’s eyelid repeatedly twitched. “I dug a little deeper and found a corrupt file in the deleted folder. I don’t know what it means, but it must be part of the screw-up in the message log.” His eyes widened, as if reluctant to face an expected rebuke.
Scott leapt to his feet, his body at full alert. The ECCO system for secure military communications was one of the most closely guarded systems on Panhelion ships. “Lieutenant, do you have any idea of the seriousness of a potential ECCO compromise?” His face burned hot, and his breathing sped up. “If an ECCO compromise divulges operational secrets in a time of war, The Manual of Arms provides for the death penalty. That’s how serious. Fortunately, we aren’t at war, but even a minor infraction can flush an otherwise sterling career down the pissoir.”
Anton stammered, “But... Captain, it wasn’t—”
“If we don’t get this under control,” Scott fumed, “there will be a board of inquiry as soon as we return to headquarters jurisdiction. I’ve seen it happen once in my career, when HQ assigned me to a board of inquiry to investigate an ECCO incident. The captain of that ship lost his career, his pension, everything, and he was lucky that it wasn’t more.” Scott’s body tensed from his feet to his forehead. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to be cashiered over a failure to protect the ECCO system on this ship.”
Anton’s knees buckled slightly. “I have the computer working on it now. It’s running the file fragments through every recovery algorithm in the book, and a few special ones I cobbled together myself.” Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Skipper, you know me. I’m as careful as the next man. Nothing like this has ever happened on my watch before. I didn’t make a mistake.”
Scott eyed the cowering officer in front of him, took a deep breath, and collapsed in his chair. “Anton, I know you too well to think you are responsible for an error like this. Ferret out whatever you can from the corrupt file, and keep me informed.” He searched his mind for an explanation of how such an error could occur.
The muscles in Anton’s face relaxed a bit, as a measure of confidence returned.
“Keep working on that file. First thing in the morning, I want to know how much you’ve recovered, and Anton, see if you can determine when it was sent. You’ve a long night ahead.”
The next morning, Anton appeared at the portal to Scott’s cabin. “Skipper, I worked all night to recover that file. So far, I have only some gibberish. I wish I had more, but this is all I’ve recovered so far. I know a few tricks that might reconstruct more, but I need time.”
Scott keyed in his personal code and studied the projected text of the e-reader. Several random characters appeared. “It’s nonsense. What do you make of it?” He pointed to a fragment. “Could this message, if that’s what it is, have been sent to a recipient other than Central?”
“No, Skipper.”
“That’s what I thought.” He paused, reviewing entangled concepts in his mind. “ECCO messages from our ship can only be read by ECCO Central, correct?”
“Quantum physics works that way,” Anton continued. “Before we left our base, Central gave us a set of entangled units. When we code an ensemble of those units, the corresponding ensemble at Central instantly reflects the message we sent. Ensemble messages can only be read by the system that contains the companion entangled units. In our case, that’s ECCO Central. It’s impossible to send a message on our equipment to any destination other than the Entangled Comm Center.”
Scott nodded; Anton knew his business. A moment later, he had an idea.
He typed out and saved a file on his terminal. He then processed the file through a program in his personal processor. “I’ve loaded a file to your personal cache. Send it to Central.”
Anton read the message on Scott’s screen. “It makes no sense, Skipper. It’s a message to Admiral Delmar, but it’s composed of random symbols.”
“Just send it, Anton. And one other thing: keep this business about the message error between us until we figure out what happened. I don’t want to tip our hand to whoever is responsible.”
With visions of retribution, Scott paced the corridors until he found himself in the meal alcove. He loaded Anton’s report into his portable e-projector and called up the Themis information.
What he read in the report alarmed him. The original passengers on the Themis worked in a special weapons division for the United Sovereigns, the predecessor government to the Panhelion. That division was so secret that its name never appeared in any of the published reports. The day the nuclear war began, those same scientists boarded a shuttle destined to rendezvous with Themis in orbit over Earth. Mere hours later, the Hegemon forces launched a fusion missile attack that destroyed the entire sector, including everyone and everything left behind by the fleeing scientists.
Scott strained to understand why that facility took the first hit. What projects did they research? They were the deliberate first target, but why?
Anton paced down the corridor and stopped at the alcove portal. “Skipper, I sent both your messages. Is there anything else?”
“Not right now.” He sat back and motioned Anton to sit. “I finished reading the information you gave me on the Themis. Did you know the passengers were mostly scientists working for the United Sovereigns? The file contains some news clippings about them. They constituted some of the best scientific minds on Earth at that time. When the Hegemon forces launched their nuclear attack on the US, it seems they intentionally targeted the facility where the Themis scientists worked.”
“But what type of research did they do?” Anton frowned, his expression reflecting Scott’s concern as well.
Scott stood and paced to the far end of his cabin. “The records mention a project named Prometheus. Lock your terminal, Anton. We return to Niobe within the hour. I have some questions for the Niobians.”
Niobe
~~~
Late in the afternoon, Scott and Anton arrived back on Niobe and went straight to the Refectory. Before he joined Marie and Klaas, he and Anton went to their rooms. Scott asked Anton to let the others know to meet him in his quarters.
He scanned the faces of the three officers seated around the room. “Marie, did you and Klaas find out anything while Anton and I were on the Pegasus?”
“Not much, Captain.” She sat erect with folded arms. “The Niobians show
ed me around this building and another facility. They’re quite proud of their plant biology. They cultivate plant life that satisfies almost all their needs, the structures, furnishings, just about everything they have. It’s all made, or I should say grown, from plants with some embedded metals and resins. I could go on—”
“I get the idea.” Scott’s interests lay in another direction. “The chancellor told me a little about it.” He stared across the table at Klaas. “What space travel capability do they have?”
The burly Dutchman shrugged. “I didn’t see anything that hinted of deep space travel. Except for a few vehicles that take them as far as their moons, they seem bound to the space around this planet, although they make an occasional foray to this side of the gradient opening. I also learned they have an orderly society. One of them took me into the nearest town, actually more a village. Several villages dot the fields farther out, but I didn’t visit them.”
Anton listened to the conversation without saying a word. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep, no doubt from worry about the missing ECCO message.
“What about their military capability, Klaas? Did you learn anything about that?”
“From what I learned, they don’t have a military, not even a police force.”
“No military, no police?” The sound of Scott’s voice rose a few decibels. “They must have something to keep order and protect themselves.”
Klaas tipped his head down in embarrassment. “Protect themselves from what? They don’t have a formal government authority, at least as we would think of it. Each village has a Thane, a person much like a local advisor, who also attends periodic gatherings at the Refectory.” Klaas’ mouth twisted in a jolly grin. “From what I’ve seen, the Niobians lead a pretty good life. When I retire, I’d like to find me a good Niobian woman and settle down right here.”
Chuckles filled the room.
“Klaas has gone native on us,” Maria quipped. “What Niobian woman would want a hard-headed Dutchman like you?”
Klaas let out a muffled laugh. “Better hard-headed than eggheaded.”
More guffaws followed.
Scott returned his gaze to Marie. “Did you determine if they have any technical skills other than plant biology?”
Marie’s eyes brightened. “Aside from their plant biology research? Well, I overheard conversations about another facility, but when I pressed them they wouldn’t acknowledge its existence.”
Klaas raised his hand to gain Scott’s attention. “Skipper, why such interest in Niobian scientific knowledge?”
“Anton has dug up some history about the original Themis passengers. They were involved in a classified project. Since we were able to find that much, I’m guessing Admiral Delmar uncovered it as well.” He stood, put his palms on the table, and leaned forward. “I don’t yet know why, but Headquarters thinks they may pose a threat to the Panhelion. If so, we have to find out what military technology they have.” He sat down and waved his hand in a dismissive arc. “We’ll meet again in the morning.”
Scott took a light supper in his quarters. Afterward, he strolled through the gardens where two days before he’d met Linghtaz. The edge of the Niobian sun peeked over the horizon, and the broken clouds blended yellow and orange-red in the settling twilight. The aroma of moist ferns filled the air, and small lights hidden in the foliage winked on, lighting the way around the base of the waterfall.
As he took in the serenity of the Niobian evening, Klaas’ remark about the tranquility of Niobian society, kept surfacing in his thoughts.
Abruptly, in the midst of his musings, he became aware of the presence of Chancellor Linghtaz in the dimming light. He spun around to face the rotund figure.
“Good evening, Captain. I hope I didn’t startle you. Enjoying our gardens?”
“Yes, it’s especially relaxing here. Does the air bring you out this evening?”
The chancellor hesitated, then said, “To be frank, no. I sought you out. Did I mention that a person of great influence would speak with you? Yes, I must have. If you come with me, I’ll take you to him now. He very much wants to meet you.”
“Certainly, but why the mystery? Who is he?”
“He is the Proconsul of Niobe, and he would like to discuss your visit to our planet. That is all I can say.”
“Sorry, I’m unfamiliar with the office of Proconsul. What sort of office is it?” In the diplomatic role thrust upon him, Scott wanted to understand the Niobian hierarchy.
“The Proconsul is the chief advisor to our society. He chairs the Council of Nine and advises the Thanes on important matters,” Linghtaz patiently explained. “But being unfamiliar with our society, that probably means nothing to you. In time, I’m sure you will come to see that we are an uncomplicated people.”
“I thought perhaps you ruled Niobe?”
The chancellor laughed aloud. “No, Captain, we have no ruler in the sense of the word. I only see to the day-to-day details of our society. The man you will meet tonight is our most senior advisor.” He swung his arm in a broad flourish toward the far end of the path. “If you would come with me, he will see you now.”
Together they strolled to a large, sandstone building adjoining the Refectory. Exotic flowers bloomed in blues and orange, and other strange plant species lined the way, sweetening the air.
Inside, the chancellor led him through a corridor and into a warmly appointed room. The walls were a rich brown with the grain of wood and gave off an odor of resin. Exotic flowers grew in profusion in potbellied planters that extended out from the walls. Divans and a few chairs, upholstered with tapestry-like material, furnished the rooms and halls.
The two continued on to a far wall, where another door opened into a dimly lit room.
“Proconsul Wimund will receive you alone.” The chancellor disappeared into the shadows before Scott realized he was gone.
Within a few minutes, Scott’s eyes adjusted. More plump chairs surrounded a heavy wood table in the center of the room. At a wide window on the far wall, overlooking the ocean in the distance, stood a man gaunt with age—Scott guessed over seventy, but he had no idea of how life on Niobe aged the human population.
The man stood looking at the final glow of twilight. Around his head, the light from behind formed an aura, as the last hint of the setting sun diffused through his blondish, white hair. He wore a waist length jacket, and trousers of shimmering gray-green material hung comfortably on his trim body.
He gazed out the window, “Come in, come in, Captain Drumond.” He turned to face Scott. “I am Boreaus Wimund, Proconsul of Niobe.” His hollow cheeks widened in a warm, inviting smile that radiated friendly confidence. “At last we meet. I’ve looked forward to this meeting ever since your arrival. Sit down and indulge in some of our humble herbal beverages, but then you are likely used to a warm coffee drink after supper, are you not?”
Scott’s impression was that he faced a man both liked and respected by all who knew him. “Yes, I would take a cup of whatever you have that passes for coffee.”
Wimund handed him a mug made of a shiny, metallic substance sculptured into the shape of some kind of palm-sized fruit, and poured a steaming light brown liquid from a spouted silver vessel.
“First,” Wimund said, “welcome to Niobe. I have many questions for you. Shall we catch up on a little of our respective histories? Tell me, for example, about this government on Earth, the Panhelion. The one you described to the Chancellor. I am greatly interested. Are the people happy with it? And do events back at our ancestral home bode for peace?”
“Thank you for your welcome and your hospitality.” Scott shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his seat. “For the most part, the nations of Earth and settlements of the solar system accept the authority of the Panhelion. It provides the security and promotes economic conditions to help the nations of Earth, and the extraterrestrial settlements, prosper. A few nations, a very few, lag, but the Panhelion makes modest investments in t
hem. We still have the occasional regional conflicts that are, for the most part, contained by the military force of the Panhelion.”
“You say for the most part. So the reconciliation of differences by armed conflict still occurs? With Ariela’s help, I’ve studied the historical archives our ancestors brought. We’ve had no word of events on Earth since they left our mother planet, so you see there is a considerable gap in our knowledge. From your description it seems those they left behind have made progress. I appreciate your candid description, and I hope to spend more time with you in discussions regarding the Panhelion.”
“I’d like the courtesy of a similar understanding of Niobe and your people. For instance, I’d like to know as much as you may share with me about the time bubble we passed through.”
“Ah, the gradient. You’ve accomplished a magnificent feat of navigation finding your way through. The gradient’s a marvelous phenomenon of the universe. We, and now you, are the only ones who know of it. Our ancestors nearly perished in their attempt to find the entrance.”
The proconsul folded his hands and, with a distant look in his eyes, stared out the window as if he were looking far back in time. “After they landed on Niobe, they studied the gradient for decades before they understood the reason for its existence.”
The Proconsul returned to the low table and refilled Scott’s cup as well as his own. “It is our impenetrable, velvet shroud and fortress defense. You, no doubt, discovered this when you encountered it. You refer to it as a bubble, a term, I suppose, that’s as good as any to describe it. This bubble in time, as you say, is possibly one of many in the universe.”
Proconsul shrugged and explained further, “We don’t actually know of others, but we speculate on their existence. Our ability to study the universe is quite limited since we are inside the gradient.”
Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1) Page 12