by K R Sanford
“I understand,” replied Marco. “But we have a strict policy about passengers being on the bridge. If something would happen, if a crisis for example: why, at this very moment we are
“We know, Captain,” replied Devin. “Hector allowed for us to view everything that has taken place.”
“He has, has he?” said Marco looking to Hector “I see.”
“Captain Miller,” replied the King. “May I present Lady Lucia? Lucia has a wonderful house in the country. She has us over for weeks on end. Likewise, she stays with us when she comes into the Village.”
“Hello, Captain,” replied Lucia. Her ginger hair was pulled away from her neck. She tucked it behind her ear. Her smile was genuine . “That's a very nice uniform, Captain,” she said. “I would understand if you have more pressing business. The spa is relaxing, join us if you like.” She leaned back in the hot bubbling water and reached for her drink.
“No. You see that's it right there.” Marco considered then replied. “Thank you, but this ship needs my full attention while in this wormhole. We have not yet secured from red alert.” He scratched his chin.
“We seem to be doing alright,” said Lucia.
“Yes, Captain Miller, we seem to be doing all right,” said Queen Elsinor.
“Our situation can change anytime,” replied Marco. “I have to say, you look very familiar.”
“In the tunnels, Captain,” replied Lucia. “William rode on my horse and we addressed the Emperor together.”
Marco's jaw dropped. “Yes, I remember,” he said. “You look different without your armor, but your face, I recognize.” Marco's voice broke and Lady Lucia raised her eyebrow. Her mouth opened but she said nothing.
Marco slapped his knees, “Right now, I have something important to do. It has been a pleasure,” he said. “I hope you will find your stay comfortable.” He pulled himself from his chair and waved for Hector to stay.
“What time will you have dinner?” asked Lady Lucia. “You will take time to eat won't you?”
Marco stared back at the ladies indulging themselves in the spa. His blood ran cold.
“Hector will see that you get informed of the ship's schedule.”
The ladies raised their glasses and Marco stormed out.
Marco hit the icon on the panel beside the magnavator. The door slid open. He stopped when he heard the King's voice. He turned to see the King with his hand raised.
“Please, Captain, if I may have a moment,” He trotted to the magnavator. “This does not involve the ladies,” said the King, “it’s about my reason for being here. I will make this brief.”
“Okay, what’s up, Your Majesty?”
“I know this ship is in peril and you must get to the bridge. My vision in the Shrine involves a mission to the Middle Corridor with your people. I have developed a smaller version of the Shrine that I would like you to see. Captain, I want to help. I know how it can be when people demand much of your time. I would like to learn more about your ship. When it is appropriate please tell me more about the Eagle.”
Marco studied the King's face and smiled. “Okay, I'll give you the short version.”
“Thank you,” replied the King. “I am honored.”
“The Eagle's original design was for a transport carrier. This was for roughly eighty military personnel on fast short hops. We made hotel style suites for passengers and guests. Then, with hyper-light engines she is the transporter you see here today.
She has four levels. The command, Captain's quarters and observatory are on level one. The second level has our power source, engines and defenses. The third level, that's the one were on now, is for guests. This deck also has research and the library, which you already saw. The fourth level holds cargo, supplies and a holograph platform. There are some workshops down there as well.”
“This is an impressive ship,” replied the King.
“We can compete for reasonable contracts,” said Marco. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Captain, please, you must excuse me.” The King put his hand over his heart. “My wife and Lady Lucia may appear to be silly women. I know both of them. Their show of carelessness is a disguise for stress. Give them a chance.”
Marco nodded. “Thank you for pointing that out. I guess we're all under a great deal of strain. Now, I better get back to the bridge, Your Majesty.”
“Please call me, Devin.”
Marco stepped inside the magnavator. He touched a sensor and gave Devin a polite nod. The magnavator door hissed shut.
The bridge was flying under red light. Grantham and Clorissa were monitoring the nav-com. Ryan leaned back in his command chair. They watched as the wormhole made its twists and turns through unknown parts of the Milky Way. The Eagle made automatic adjustments from the feedback in the whet-plate grid. The ship made corrections to avoid space debris, small asteroids and high energy fields.
“Space can be endless days, even weeks, of total boredom then ten seconds of utter terror,” said Ryan.
Clorissa touched Grantham's elbow directing him to Ryan's comment. “Yes,” replied Grantham in a low rumble. “I can't say I'm bored at the moment, Ryan. Even though I find space travel uneventful at times. Right now, the thought of Stokes and Bradley puzzle me. Letting us enter this uncharted region unnerves me. I suspect we haven't seen the last of those two by any stretch.”
Ryan smiled. “That's an interesting spin on things,” he said. “What kind of stories do you read? I assume your people tell stories and record history?”
“We do,” replied Grantham. “Our people have extensive data banks. We have technological and cultural records. I enjoy hero stories. Stories like Marillian citizens saving the planet from a interstellar war.
“Exciting stuff,” replied Ryan.
“My favorite is a rags-to-riches story,” said Grantham.
“You have rags in the center of Ameda?” asked Ryan.
“Rags indeed!” replied Grantham, “And poverty. My people get sick like all life. We get injured, some get born weak. Others are unable to take care of themselves when they get old.”
“The way you said, 'born weak,' sounded personal?” replied Ryan.
“I guess it is,” said Grantham.
“Tell us about it,” said Ryan.
“Yes, please go on,” chimed Clorissa. “We would like to hear.”
“Who did you know that was born weak?” Ryan eyed the Governor up and down. He measured the strength of his build. “Was there a brother or a sister, or
“No, Ryan, quite the contrary. I was starting my first school. I was very young, four-years-old at the time. This is when we start our formal instructions.
My older sister would take me to school and leave me at the front gate. I would find my way to my class and play blocks and different games with other children my age. Sometimes we would go out in the schoolyard and bounce the ball or swim in the pools during the low-water season.
My favorite game was swim tag. But, it was not too long before I became the target for the other kids. I got challenged, pushed down, beat on and tormented by the bullies. Then a gang of young Marillians made sport of me because I was frail and frightened. So, they chased me home every day.
Finally, they would lie in wait. They would throw stones when I left the schoolyard. I would have to run and hide in the homes and back caverns of Marillians. One time, I got hit in the back of the head by one of their rocks, blood gushed down my neck. I could think of only one thing and that was to run. It hurt and I was a mess, but I kept running.
I was terrified. Stripes of blood ran down my tunic by the time I got home. What made things worse, when I went into our house, my father made me fight my older sister for dinner. I lost. She was too big and too strong. Humiliated I became angry and bitter.”
“You had to fight your own sister for your food?” Ryan shook his head. “That's lousy.”
“Growing up can be so cruel,” said Clorissa.
“It made me stronger having to run hom
e after school. I learned where the special escape tunnels were and how to maneuver through them quick.
Some places the gang could not follow because the tunnels were too dangerous and too steep. A few got injured trying. They would not tell their parents because they would have to say where they were and what they were doing. They hated me even more for this.
It went on like this for several years. Finally, we moved to a different part of our colony. I was glad to be away from all that. Only, I picked up some bad habits that stayed with me for a long time.
The hard work of running and climbing built up my arms and legs sure enough. But the running took me though places that I figured owed me more than the safety they provided. I know that doesn't make sense. But, I was a very angry child.
I became a public enemy. I learned to steal more than food. At last, I had enough to eat. Then I grew stronger than the other children.
It was not until later on that I discovered the way I got raised was not working. Marillians are a peaceful and social race but they honor those with power. I am ashamed to say, there is a general tendency for our race to despise the weak. It is odd that way.
Here I sit as Governor of the Marillian Empire and the frail four-year-old boy still sits here with me. So does my anger against injustice.”
Grantham shifted in his chair. “You asked me about stories. What kind do you like?”
Ryan stirred from his thoughts, “Oh, I’m sorry, Grantham. You had a rough start. You lost a lot of your childhood by what you say.”
“It's over,” replied Grantham. “And I have a good life now. The Amedans have been very supportive. I am grateful to live with their knowledge and I practice their ways. It is important for me to understand our race is dysfunctional. I can be a strong agent for developing our future.”
Ryan affirmed Grantham's insight with a cautious nod.
“It's your turn,” continued Grantham. “What about your favorite stories?”
“Well,” said Ryan, “I go for the mysteries, a good old-fashioned who-done-it is fun.”
“A who-done-it,” replied Grantham.
Ryan smiled. “You get to figure out who-done-it. You know, who shot the shuttlecraft pilot. Or who poisoned the diner hostess? And why was the blaster that killed the shuttlecraft pilot left behind in the replicator?”
Clorissa laughed. “The butler did it,” she said. “The butler always does it.” Her laugher hung in the air like the welcome ring of the Shrine Castle bell.
Ryan and Grantham let Clorissa’s voice intoxicate their heads.
“I'll show you a holograph with hundreds of who-done-it programs,” said Ryan.
“Okay, I'll look forward to that, if Clorissa will honor us with her company.”
The magnavator door hissed open and Marco stepped onto the bridge. He walked over and sat in his chair looking at the spectacle of oncoming lights swirling over the viewer. The Eagle rocked and rolled through a haphazard maze. Marco picked up the Ship’s Log and began recording.
“We can make a partition on the viewer. Then you could show a sequence of your holograph module,” said Clorissa.
Ryan reduced the image of the wormhole. He brought up a version of Dame Agatha Christie's Ten Little Indians set on a space station in a faraway galaxy.
Meanwhile, the wormhole revealed a small black dot in the Eagle's path. Marco leaned forward and watched the dot grow into an orifice. In an instant, the Eagle thrust free from the wormhole. They sailed out to an open sea of space. There were no stars; no planets, no signs of energy or detection of mass of any kind. The Eagle was alone.
Marco calculated. They could not return to where they came. Where they were was anybody's guess. He sat back in his chair and pondered. Continuing forward would mean to acquiesce to that region of space. To drift off course would mean to depart from reality. They could circle in endless random chaos.
The viewer rolled the credits for Agatha Christie and the screen went dead.
The bridge once again went under the outlines of red light. Clorissa and Grantham spoke soft at the nav-com. Ryan pawed over his collection of video cubes. Marco listened to the chirps and beeps of the instruments. He watched the sensors scan the immediate area for any signs of life. The ship's instruments returned flat lines and negative feedback.
For hours they sat waiting for a movement on a graph or spike in a line or a rise in the long-range read-outs. Ryan increased amplitude of the telescope. “I’m going to get some rest,” he said.
Marco called to Clorissa and Grantham. “Why don't you two take a break, I can handle things here,” he said. “There's nothing out there.”
“You sure, Marco?” replied Clorissa.
“Go ahead,” said Marco. “I'll be fine. If something changes, I'll give you guys a signal.”
“Thank you, Marco,” said Grantham. “I could use the rest.”
The magnavator door closed. Marco could not remember the last time he was alone on the bridge of his own starship. He had been in space for only two days. He recalled how far he had come from crawling on his hands and knees deep inside the hollows of Ameda. He was now in an uncharted void of deep space.
He looked over the consoles of the quiet unmanned bridge. All stations were set on green light. They were functioning optimum on automatic. He looked to his command console. Weapons, course controls, life supports, and communications, visuals were laid out before him. He felt in total command of his starship.
He ran his fingers over the displays and began a sequence of tests through the security monitors. He had visuals in every corridor, every room and every angle outside the ship. He touched another sensor. He watched Alice and Bob roll over the hull, sensing external compositions. He watched as the popup window showed data upload to the Eagle's main computer.
He checked the weapons. He found ordinance enough to disintegrate a small planet. He reached for another sensor. He pushed his finger against the activation strip. The familiar sound of warm air blew down from the overhead vents. He took off his coat and slunk back in his chair. He cracked his knuckles, rubbed his eyes then reset the main viewer to full screen. He pushed another sensor to focus for infinite range, then as he looked back up at the screen, his eyes grew narrow.
C H A P T E R 10
_____________________________________
THE LABYRINTH
Marco sat in his command chair. He watched the solitary light in the distance. He strained to make out the image in the darkness. His mind transfixed into a state of wonder. As the Eagle advanced, the solitary anomaly took on the markings of a golden gem fixed in the center of black space.
He looked with trepidation as the edifice revealed an immortal design. Waves of emotion brushed over him and a feeling of calm settled his body. The telltale signs of a golden coil wrapped itself under an amber gem stone. A stardust disk revolved beneath the coil. The coil appeared like a serpent holding the gem stone above a mist of stardust. Marco pinched himself several times to see is he was alive or dead.
He rechecked the magnification of the telescope. It was set at full power. He reached for the ship’s intercom. He tried to speak but the words stuck in his throat. His voice broke in a whisper, “Yellow Alert.” He took a breath and swallowed hard then with authority he repeated. “Yellow Alert All available crew, report to the bridge. This is not a drill: All available crew to the bridge, Captain out.”
He waited. He felt the temptation to hit full power and investigate the strange new wonder. His body would not act until tests were complete.
Coordinance needed to get checked to confirm the anomaly’s true location. He waited in anticipation of the crew to check and double check the graviton matrix. Then, he would run analysis for interception and the quickest route of escape.
Once again, Marco was at a loss. At one level, he wanted to charge ahead and explore the anomaly. Still, it was not uncommon for distortions in space to mislead the sensors on the bridge. He sat alone realizing he called the others out of h
abit, and that was not what he wanted to do. Still, someone needed to recheck the data on the instruments. Clorissa was quick with information and could transfer data at the nav-com. But he was even quicker.
He looked to the soft green light tucked in the arm of his command chair. He placed his finger on the hidden button inside the fold of the leather. In one way he was sorry he called everyone so soon. Too late, he thought. He could cancel code yellow and secure from general quarters, but he knew better. Someone would want to enter the bridge curious to find out how the Eagle could do what it was doing. And, why not, the situation would be an event that would explain the reason for his concealment. “Someday, I’ll
The magnavator hissed open. “Wow, damn, what the blazes is that?” announced Hector in amazement.
Marco got jolted from his pensive state by Hector’s entrance. He took his finger off the hidden button and began rubbing the temples in his head. He returned Hector’s infectious smile but his eyes wore fatigue and the need of food.
Lady Lucia trailed in putting her hands to her mouth. She marveled at the master control lights and the freeform architecture. “Oh, Marco, you’ve found something extraordinary,” She said. She walked onto the bridge and stood in the center of the viewer.
King Devin and Queen Elsinor walked in after but with less flamboyance. They offered no apologies for stepping in and making themselves at home. Devin bowed and said, “Beautiful ship, sir, beautiful ship indeed. We will not to be in your way.” He took the first convenient seat at life-support next to Hector. He watched the image of the anomaly grow larger on the viewer.
Clorissa, Grantham and Ryan stepped off the magnavator platform. Marco did not say a word. They went to their stations then immediately began protocol inquiries for unidentified objects.
“That is amazing, Marco,” said Devin.
“What’s that?” replied Marco.
“Your magnavator: You only have the one? What if it were to break?”
Marco got caught off guard by Devin’s questions. He glanced at the viewer. He did a double take. He gazed at the phenomenon sparkling like a celestial temple in isolated space. He shook his head and turned back to Devin.