“There is that possibility of course. What then, truly defines a deity, if not the creation of a universe? Remember, it is the simple power of faith that has always had the unique ability to heal emotional wounds that normally would be permanently irreparable. Even in Earth’s recent history, many of its warlike cultures have perpetrated very barbaric acts against each other before eventually forming bonds of lasting peace… a peace based solely on the history and example of the simple actions of this God and his Son. In each and every war your species was headed down the wrong path, and then something almost miraculous happened – many times a small thing – to tip the balance back on the side of those with compassion. Do you think it is a coincidence that your CAS technology came on-line at the exact time that you needed it to in order to execute your escape? Do you think it is coincidental that the man who saved you from the wasteland attack almost lost his life in a suicide attempt, but somehow miraculously survived to help you defend your ship?”
“Do you?”
“I do not know,” admitted Noah. “Which is why I keep searching for He who does hold these answers. I have seen much in my life, including miracles.”
“Now you’re talking about divine intervention,” Kaufield sharply pointed out. “That’s a whole new discussion.”
“Anything is possible.” Noah pointed again to the paintings on the wall. “During your history, weren’t some of your conquered cultures destroyed when every surviving man, woman and child was put ‘to the sword’?” He watched the pain in Dennis’ eyes carefully. “We were here then and could have intervened there too… aren’t you glad we didn’t? Your entire history would be different if we had…” He sighed deeply. “Your civilization was thriving, mostly because it was left alone and allowed to develop and mature at its own pace… including the wars which are preventable by people like us. If you want to learn more about our history I’m perfectly willing to show you some data on the times – during the years when we first gained technology – where we did intervene in the affairs of others. We didn’t like having to live with the consequences of our actions and, after discovering Poseidon, we made a decision to build a vantage point from which we could observe and limit its destructive effects on the matter that comprises our universe. That vantage point is now home to thousands of different races.”
“So you’re saying that the Brotherhood’s war is just another step in humanity’s development on Earth?”
“Captain, they have the same right that your society did to conquer and destroy other cultures in order to learn from those mistakes and mature beyond the need for war into a more peaceful and tolerant society.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to agree with that assessment of the situation?”
“No I do not. But all new developing civilizations are the same Captain. A very long time ago, my people were in the same situation that yours are now in. We survived by learning from our mistakes and making better, more peaceful choices, over time. Each member of this Brotherhood must realize for himself that its objectives are evil.”
“That’s a very evolutionary point of view,” countered Kaufield. “It sounds as though you’re talking about ‘survival of the fittest’. Simply because the Brotherhood built up a huge military and pulled a sneak attack, you’re advocating that their strength in exploiting our weaknesses justifies their survival. By destroying my people they’ve earned the right to learn from their mistakes?” He shook his head with disgust. “How closely have you observed them? They might as well be emotionless, murdering robots.”
“The man you have confined on deck four of this ship is not.”
“His presence creates a dilemma for me,” Kaufield said. “We can’t attack the Brotherhood without his help. And without that help the Triumvirate will never allow its humanoid clones to become fully human. There’s no way to win, here.”
“As its territory expands, the Triumvirate will be unable to keep at least some of its clones from discovering what it’s like to be human,” Noah argued. “Resistance will grow, Captain. Their new civilization is no different from any other – if they continue to be evil then their anger and hatred will turn them on each other. I have seen it with my own eyes… already their transformation has begun. Perhaps waking up each day to a nuclear-scarred horizon was the catalyst, or maybe it was something else entirely.”
“Regardless of what happens to their society, ours has still been swept aside,” Kaufield said disdainfully. “You’ve watched cultures kill and destroy each other for millions of years with nothing ever changing.”
“Something has changed,” insisted Noah. “We are offering to let your people stay with us and rebuild your culture in complete safety. I think you’ll agree that this will take a tremendous amount of time, time which will give the situation on Earth the opportunity to resolve itself. Eventually the Brotherhood’s reign of terror on Earth will end. They will stop themselves, one way or the other.”
“What if Earth is destroyed by more wars and left completely uninhabitable in the process? It is, after all, our home.”
“I don’t have clairvoyant capabilities, Captain, but I do have good instincts and they tell me the Brotherhood will find that particular task extremely difficult. There is something unbelievably spiritual happening with that planet – it is unique and a huge melting pot of everything that is good and bad about sentient life.”
“We’ll rebuild our population and our Fleet,” Kaufield said simply. “Then we’ll go back and reclaim our home world… you said you wouldn’t stop us from doing so.”
“As I said, Captain, I’ve had a lot of experience with situations like yours. I can look in your eyes and see a man of peace, one who still has doubts about the decisions that were made during the attack in the wasteland galaxy. Those people were going to board your ship and kill your people and yet you still mourn the fact that you had to take their lives in order to defend the Pathfinder. Your people deserve a chance to thrive again.” He paused, watching the Captain carefully. “It will take a long time to rebuild your population after such a thorough nuclear war. When that occurs, if your leadership is still determined to go back and renew its war against the Brotherhood… we will not stop you. But I think that you will look into the eyes of your children and grandchildren and decide that the Triumvirate can clean up its own mess. You and your population will be safe here.”
“Considering the fact that we were going to pick a habitable planet randomly and start completely over, the offer of help is greatly appreciated,” Dennis decided. “Of course we could still choose to continue our journey and look for other allies who will help us fight back.”
“Captain…” Noah said, sounding a bit disappointed. “I’ve visited your Garden and Livestock wings – your people have truly done a remarkable job in simulating a thriving planetary environment. But what you need is here. All you will find out there are a lot of empty galaxies and lifeless planets. There is a lot of life in the universe, but it is scattered so completely and randomly that the full truth would astonish you. That’s one of the reasons we chose to place our Proteus galaxy near the Poseidon gravity well – it gives us the opportunity to lead a quiet life of study while the gravity river acts like a giant arrow pointing refugees and peaceful explorers toward our quiet little corner of the universe.”
“What about hostile explorers, like the aliens in the wasteland galaxy?”
“We’ve encountered some of those people, too. You’ll notice that we are still here.”
Dennis thought for a moment. “What about Patrick Warren or other enemies. If you allow refugees from Earth to come here, Brotherhood spies already in place might follow them here.”
“We can certainly identify and relocate the clones for you to one or more of our own societies where they can live a decent life,” offered Noah. He watched the Captain think the matter over.
“No,” decided the Captain. “They’re our problem. It’s our responsibility to make sure that they pay the debts
for their crimes to our society, and to make sure they get a second chance after they have done so.”
“Your mercy toward Mr. Warren is a great demonstration of compassion,” decided Noah. He quickly held up a hand as Dennis opened his mouth to reply. “I know… I know most of your crew would probably injure or even kill him were it not for your laws and the military that enforces them. But compassion is what always separates a true leader from the common man. It is also the center of all positive values that keep civilizations like yours alive.”
There was a long pause as Dennis Kaufield, Captain of the Pathfinder, carefully considered the offer that had been presented to him. He stood up and shook Noah’s hand warmly, shutting off the tape recorder as he did so. “I will pass your offer along to our Council along with my recommendation that they accept it,” he said confidently. “If they approve, we’ll have to start thinking of a name for our new planet.”
“It already has a name,” Noah said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice at Kaufield’s positive reaction to his offer. “The native word for this planet in my language translates to “Tranquility” in yours.”
“The faces of those we left behind will haunt me until they receive assistance.”
“I am monitoring the situation, Captain. You and I will assist them with dispatch. Will you trust me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Noah chose not to reply to the question. Instead he pointed toward the swelling crowd outside. “Select your best military people to begin planning a rescue, and I will review their strategy. In the meantime, there is something else that you should consider planning for… something that will not take long at all to complete.” Noah watched his reaction with an expression filled with mischief. “Don’t you want to give Dr. Markham and her associates the opportunity to complete your project’s primary objective?”
“What do you mean?” asked Dennis curiously.
“With Point-to-Point transit alone, even with your CAS Drive enhancements, you’ll never manage to approach the actual leading edge of our universe for any decent length of time,” stated Noah informatively. “Not only is the shock wave moving at light speed, but the normal laws of physics also begin to break down as you approach. However,” he said, smiling warmly. “…by utilizing my shuttle one more time I can place the Pathfinder directly behind the outer edge for any duration that you specify, giving your specialists as long as they need to take a unique look at what lies beyond.”
“That sounds like another recommendation that will probably go over well with the Council,” the Captain mused wryly. “Particularly with Julie Markham – she’s going to want to kiss you or… jump your bones or… something.”
“I consider myself forewarned Captain,” grinned Noah happily.
“But we are going to help the refugees back in the Sol-system.”
“We will do so immediately after your Council accepts our treaty.”
Kaufield carefully glanced out one of the Observation windows again just to confirm his suspicions. “Of course,” he said slowly, turning back toward his new friend, “We’re going to have to figure out how to convince everyone to get back on board, first.”
Sol-system, 154 days after the attack…
Sitting dourly in his private quarters on board the United States Lexington, Admiral James Henry tried to continue his ongoing study of the Sol-system. Everything was mapped out for him very colorfully – planetary orbits, suspected locations of Brotherhood vessels and – of course – Earth’s current position relative to theirs. He had been trying to justify ordering what would in fact be a suicide mission not so subtly disguised as an attack on the enemy for several hours now. A seasoned, battle hardened veteran, Henry was not the type of man to be indecisive in situations such as this one. Earth’s nations, however, had been so totally surprised by the unexpected appearance of the Brotherhood that there had been no opportunity to prepare a practical military response. There had been no sign recently that any other military ships had survived.
One hundred and fifty-four days now, the Admiral thought somewhat bitterly to himself. He still commanded a small fleet of nine ships, but the mysterious Triumvirate had settled into a patient waiting mode back on Earth. They were fighting a war of attrition now, knowing that surviving vessels like Henry’s fleet were slowly running out of food, fuel and water. Meanwhile, they were busy setting up some sort of new global government, more than likely enslaving or killing off any survivors who got in their way. With the fleet’s supplies lower than they had ever been, the only remaining option was clear. The Admiral believed that the right thing to do would be to return to Earth and make a last stand before they lost the will and physical strength to fight.
We can at least give them a black eye, he reflected sullenly. Perhaps even two.
They were hiding in the asteroid belt that orbited the sun between Mars and Jupiter. After the initial rendezvous at Neptune, Henry had chosen the new location because there were so many asteroids. They were supposedly material left over from the natural creation of planetary bodies and ringed the sun. Trying to detect nine space vessels within all the floating debris was an impossible task, even for the Brotherhood. Henry hated the prospect of losing to them even more so because he believed them to be much more of a bully than a warrior. The only reason that they had succeeded in their plan to smash Earth and its military forces was because they had relied almost totally upon stealth and surprise. In a straight out fight, once the Lexington’s computer systems had been cleared of sabotage code, the Brotherhood had lost every engagement since the initial attack.
That included the many traps that had been set within the solar system, where the Brotherhood routinely issued random distress calls and then waited for surviving ships to show up. They had picked off a precious capital vessel or two from the Admiral’s small fleet over the past few months, but had suffered heavy losses in the process. His ships had traveled inward, toward those distress calls, fully expecting traps and been ready and willing to respond. Unfortunately there weren’t enough military assets left in place to make a difference. No matter what he did or how violent his fleet’s reprisal, there was simply no way to overcome the Brotherhood fleet and survive long enough to make any difference back on Earth.
It’s time to paste them one last time and then move on to the next life, the Admiral concluded glumly.
He was interrupted by a knock on his cabin door, and the sound of it sparked him into action. Great military leaders were supposed to think things through and make informed decisions, but if he lurked in his quarters too long then his people might get the mistaken impression that he was hiding. Walking over to the door, he opened it swiftly and found himself staring into the wan, fatigued face of his Executive Officer. “You’re wanted in the Command Center, Admiral,” Matthew Burns informed him. “There is an unidentified ship in the area, moving directly toward us on an interception course.”
“Have they launched fighters?” he asked as the two of them walked together toward the nearby lift.
“That is what is odd about this situation, sir,” grunted Burns humorlessly. “The vessel is transmitting a United States ID on the proper military frequency, identifying itself as the U.S. Pathfinder.”
“We don’t have a vessel named Pathfinder,” Henry growled in response. “At least not yet. There was someone working on the moon…”
“I know,” Matt Burns told him. “You allowed me to review our classified files. I’ve studied our motion sensor data on the intruder, and it appears to be the right size and shape. They transmitted a message stating that they’re here to offer assistance and transportation to a safe sanctuary.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” seethed Henry angrily. “The Brotherhood is simply toying with us again, like a cat with a mouse.”
As things turned out, the Admiral was never happier to be wrong.
After carefully locking weapons on the unknown new target and allowing the intruder to approach, they d
iscovered that the mysterious newcomer was indeed the Pathfinder. The large exploratory vessel was under temporary command of a man named Adam Roh, and he spent more than an hour answering their many questions. Once he finished fielding questions and had convinced Admiral Henry of his sincerity, Roh subsequently proved his claims to be true by opening a large Point-to-Point window beneath his vessel and allowing one of the military ships to travel through it. The Captain of that ship, a Lorna Phillips, returned from the brief transit with an expression on her face that wiped away the last traces of doubt. Admiral Henry found himself cheering inside as everything Roh claimed did indeed turn out to be true.
“It’s absolutely unbelievable sir!” Phillips told the Admiral over fleet-Comm. “They’ve gathered together an entire fleet of surviving ships somewhere outside of our galaxy… a place called Bravo Point. I have no idea how they’re doing it, but we were there! I’ve got pictures if you need to see them! Chinese, Russians, Americans, you name it… they’re all out there. We even talked to a British Captain and noticed a couple of French vessels!”
The Admiral immediately glanced warily at Adam Roh’s image on his central monitor. “You left us for last?”
“Second to last, actually.” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Your fleet was one of the best prepared and still had food and water stores in reserve,” Roh responded with a wry smile. “We’re here now, aren’t we? Shall we get moving before an enemy really does find you?”
Caught by surprise, something that rarely ever happened, the Admiral promptly agreed. One by one, the ships from his small fleet followed Lorna’s battle-scarred destroyer through the CAS window, toward this supposedly safe Bravo Point where they would receive food and water. After that the next destination, they were told, was some sort of faraway galaxy called Proteus. Once the nine ships were safely away, Adam Roh consulted a list of ships on the computer screen in front of him before glancing across the central ring of computer stations toward Ensign Long. “Plot a new transit to the coordinates I'm sending you,” he told the young man. “We’ve got some stray Russian frigates to pick up yet and then we can go back home.”
The Pathfinder Trilogy Page 37