Carson Mach 1: The Atlantis Ship

by A. C. Hadfield

  “Orloza’s at the end,” Seazza said. “He likes to keep close to the workers.”

  “Looks like he runs a tight ship,” Morgan said, but knew a man of Orloza’s position wouldn’t have much day-to-day responsibility dealing with individuals. It wasn’t like captaining a real ship, where it was a duty to know the crew and every high-level detail. Thinking about it made Morgan wonder why he ever accepted the rank of admiral in the first place. He never guessed it would turn out like this.

  Seazza walked through the middle of the office area and opened an opaque door at the far end. Orloza’s secretary, a young woman with blond hair, sat behind a desk to the side of a wooden varnished door.

  “Seazza!” the secretary said. “He’s ready to see you. Is this Admiral Morgan?”

  “That’s me,” Morgan said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” The secretary thumbed a pad by her side. “Seazza and Admiral Morgan are here. Shall I send them straight in?”

  “Send them through,” a high-pitched voice replied through the speaker.

  Morgan had seen Orloza before at official functions and on CW broadcasts about upcoming building projects. They hadn’t spoken. Never really needed to. Morgan wasn’t one for small talk with politicians.

  The door opened with an electric whine as Seazza approached it. Morgan followed and stood to her side.

  Orloza, an old fidesian, dressed in a black trouser suit with his wispy white hair slicked back, rose from behind his desk and extended a bony hand toward two brown leather bucket seats. “Seazza and Admiral Morgan. Please, sit down.”

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Morgan said.

  “You can thank Seazza,” Orloza said. “She tells me you have some important ideas to discuss? If it’s for the good of the CW, I’m all ears.”

  The vice president continued to smile and poured himself a glass of water. Fidesians were poor actors and Morgan instantly recognized the falseness of Orloza’s facial expression. It was probably his default mode when meeting new people.

  “I’d like to be frank with you,” Morgan said. “We are facing multiple dangers and I don’t think we’re prioritizing our forces correctly or proactively addressing the threats.”

  “Do you mean the marshal isn’t prioritizing?” Orloza said. “He told me that you’ve been assigned to deal with the Atlantis ship.”

  “That’s true, but I’m looking at the full picture. The main reason the Axis have an opportunity is because of the Atlantis ship. We’re two orbitals down and I believe they’re smelling blood.”

  “And how is your assignment going? Are you any closer to eliminating the ship?”

  “My team is making progress, but I don’t believe enough resources are assigned. I also think we need to send a message to the Axis. The longer we wait, the more chance they’ll see it as a sign of weakness. We’re sleepwalking toward war…”

  Orloza gazed over Morgan’s head. He glanced over his shoulder and realized the vice president was watching the Sphere newscast on the high-definition screen attached to the wall.

  “Vice President,” Seazza said. “You need to listen to a man of Morgan’s experience. I’ve seen the evidence myself. This isn’t going to end well if we continue along our current path.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Orloza said and focused back on Morgan. “Are we to go against the space marshal’s advice?”

  Morgan leaned forward, hiding his irritation at how Orloza got so easily distracted before he’d barely stated his case. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It doesn’t have to be painful. I want command of a capital craft to bolster the hunt for the Atlantis ship, and we need to send out strong communications to the Axis with consequences if they continue to gather at the frontier.”

  “An aggressive stance is not always the best option, Admiral,” Orloza said. “We mean to avoid war, not provoke it.”

  “We can’t continue to wait and have our outer defenses picked off. CWDF lives are being lost. We’re more vulnerable after every attack. This is a storm we can’t ride. Give me an active role and I’ll ensure our long-term security.”

  Orloza sighed. “The marshal told me you’d say this. For the record, he’s aware of our meeting today. I decided to grant Seazza’s request out of respect for your service. We all need to be pulling in the same direction to achieve a positive conclusion, and I feel you’re not with us.”

  “Of course I’m with the Commonwealth. Give me time to explain.”

  “Time is something I haven’t got. I have an appointment in five minutes with the agricultural senator.”

  Morgan clenched his fists and took a deep breath. Orloza was just paying him lip service, just like his current role to the CWDF.

  “I think you need to hear the admiral—” Seazza said.

  “The admiral is being retired,” Orloza said, avoiding eye contact with Morgan. “He will receive the full benefits of his rank, and I’m allowing him to keep his apartment. This is my final decision.”

  “You damned coward,” Morgan said, springing from his chair, realizing he now had nothing to lose. “Thousands of lives could be lost around the Sphere. You and the marshal will lead us to disaster.”

  Orloza pressed the pad on his desk and leaned toward it. “Please come to my office and escort two people from the building.”

  Morgan ripped the embroidered star epaulets off both of his shoulders and threw them at Orloza. The vice president protected his head with his hands before composing himself. He gave Morgan his shit-eating grin again. “If you don’t want to spend the rest of your living days on Summanus, you better show a little more respect.”

  “You don’t deserve any,” Morgan said. He turned to Seazza. “Let’s get out of here. This was a waste of time.”

  The door whined open and two soldiers entered. Morgan extended his palms toward them. “Don’t worry, guys. You won’t get any trouble from me. I don’t want to spend another minute with this useless cretin.”

  Seazza joined him, and they headed between the soldiers for the door. She looked at her shoes. Morgan guessed she felt embarrassed by the meeting. He should have guessed the outcome. The useless old men were all in each other’s pockets.

  “Admiral Morgan,” Orloza said, “Summanus is the easy choice. If you step further out of line, I can arrange something else. I’m sure you can work out what I mean.”

  Morgan didn’t acknowledge the obvious threat and left at a quick pace. Seazza half-jogged to keep up with his long strides.

  Just before the elevator she grabbed his shoulder and gently pulled him to a stop. “We do have another option.”

  “It’s over,” Morgan said. “We’re going to sit here like rabbits caught in headlights and take a pounding.”

  “I’m serious. We have another option that can make a difference. But, you’re not going to like it.”

  “Will it piss off Orloza and Steros?”

  “In one way, yes.”

  “Then I like it already.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mach watched the orbital disappear on the rearview screen as the Jaguar headed for the wormhole. Tulula had worked her magic on the drives and they were back to full power, cruising only five minutes from their destination. The thought of coming face to face with the Atlantis ship sent a tingle down Mach’s spine.

  Most of Morgan’s jobs were extractions, but now they had a chance to take down a legend. If they pulled it off, the JPs would dine out on it. Adira and Babcock would get pardons, Mach wouldn’t need to work again, and Sanchez… Mach wasn’t sure what he ultimately wanted but knew a lot of his eros would keep the bars in the Sphere in business for the next few years.

  Turning his attention to the sensor array, Mach concentrated on their direction of travel. The wormhole’s energy registered as a faint line, fifty klicks ahead and four below. He knew the crew was aware that they might end up thousands of light-years away from the Salus Sphere, with no way back, but nobody questioned the decisi
on. Not even the JPs. After a bumpy start they had integrated well.

  Danick turned from the holocontrols. “How do we enter it?”

  “Bring her in nice and slow,” Mach said. He didn’t know a single person alive that had traveled through a wormhole. Common sense dictated that they shouldn’t enter at speed in case they encountered an obstacle directly outside the opposite end.

  A hush descended around the deck. Mach leaned forward in his chair and gazed at the viewing screen. An orange glow appeared in the distance. As they closed in, the tunnel became clearer.

  Lassea fired the retro thrusters. Sanchez and Adira peered at their monitors, with their hands over the ion cannon and laser controls respectively, ready to zero in on any immediate threats.

  An orange gas swirled around the front end of the wormhole. Deeper inside, it slowly rotated. A shimmering white light radiated from the far end of the tunnel.

  Mach wondered why it was still here. Drone reports from the area of Orbital Forty said it vanished within a couple of hours. Whatever the reason, it provided them with a first real opportunity of closely following the Atlantis ship’s escape route.

  The Intrepid reached within thirty seconds of entry. An orange glow cast from the screens. The scale was far bigger than Mach imagined. They had clearance of at least four hundred meters in all directions.

  Sweat beaded on Mach’s brow. He avoided eye contact with the rest of the crew. There was a possibility they could be crushed to a mangled wreck or meet a fleet of unknown ships on the other side. It was pointless sending a probe through; they’d lose comms as soon as it transported.

  Danick and Lassea focused on the controls as they entered, drifting through the first half a klick until they reached the spinning part of the transparent wall.

  “I’m losing response,” Lassea said.

  Bright lights flashed around the edges of the wormhole. The Intrepid vibrated and jolted forward, similar to a feeling of plowing through a thick cloud of space dust.

  An electronic pulse sounded from the main console. Energy readings on the sensor array were off the scale. The screen showed a solid green mass.

  “We’re increasing velocity, but it’s not down to us,” Danick snapped.

  “Just go with it,” Mach said. At least one of them had to keep their cool. The Intrepid was committed and he had no intention of turning back. He raised his smart-screen. “Babcock, Tulula, how are things looking down there?”

  “Normal. The energy is taking us through, just as I expected.”

  The bright light at the end of the tunnel intensified. As the Intrepid accelerated forward, the white surface ahead shimmered. Mach squinted at the glaring screen, not wanting to miss a moment of the experience.

  Vibrations increased, and the superstructure let out a metallic yawn. Lassea grabbed the arms of her chair. Danick hunched down as they approached within seconds of hitting the light source.

  “Here we go,” Sanchez said.

  An earsplitting crack blasted around the ship, followed by silence. The ship returned to a smooth cruising speed and the display screen returned to normal measurements.

  Mack shook his head and focused on the scanner array. “What the hell is that?”

  From the display, it looked like they were surrounded by a five-klick ring of interconnected meteors and planetoids. The location displayed as unknown, which wasn’t a huge surprise considering they were in uncharted territory. The ship would reorientate once it decoded a known signal—if they were close enough to receive one.

  Danick engaged the retro thrusters to reduce their velocity.

  Lassea switched the main screen to the upper camera and zoomed in on one of the larger dark planetoids. Giant metal rods connected two meteors to either side of it. Two small ships buzzed between them. Clusters of lights peppered the planet’s surface, looking like the areas of population on Fides Prime when viewed at night.

  “Something’s locked on to us,” Adira said. She spun the holocube and primed the laser.

  “Scrap that,” Sanchez said. “We’ve got multiple locks, and I mean hundreds.”

  “Do you want us to engage the LD?” Lassea said.

  Mach quickly considered their options. Getting out of here seemed like the most sensible option, but if the inhabitants of the surrounding cluster intended to blast them into pieces, they probably would have already fired. Besides that, the Atlantis ship came this way and the scanner array only showed small ships in the surrounding area. If he could communicate with whoever lived here, he might find some answers.

  “Prepare to engage the LD, but send out a fighter drone,” Mach said. “I want a closer look at this place before we split.”

  Sanchez moved across to the drone controls and initiated the launch procedure. Mach, the JPs, and Adira peered at the screens, waiting for any signs of weapons being fired in their direction.

  The comms console pinged.

  “We’re receiving a laser signal,” Danick said.

  The Intrepid’s advanced systems automatically calibrated the beam, and a soft garbled voice came through the speakers. Mach glanced around at the vacant expressions pasted across the faces of the crew. He raised his pad. “Babcock, we need you and Squid up here.”

  They were the only people on the ship capable of attempting to translate an unknown alien language—assuming it was even possible.

  “We picked it up on our console,” Babcock replied. “Squid’s already running it against translation algorithms. Give him a minute.”

  In an attempt to show them a friendly front, Mach transmitted back in Salus Common until they worked out a way to communicate. He thumbed the pressure pad on his armrest. “This is Captain Mach of the Intrepid. We have traveled from the Salus Sphere and have peaceful intentions.”

  No immediate response came back. Mach considered if they could send anything else. When humans first communicated with the fidesians, they used mathematics and physics as a starting point, using common rules to gain a basic understanding of their different words.

  The entrance door punched open with a hiss. Babcock, Squid, and Tulula entered and peered up at the screens.

  “Seen anything like this before?” Mach said to Tulula.

  “Nothing. We sent out some pings to try to reach the vestan and salus networks. Got no reply.”

  Mach watched the screen as Lassea swept the upper camera around the joined formation surrounding their ship. The wormhole was still clearly visible behind them. Stars dotted the distant space. Nothing like the amount they could see from any planet in the Sphere.

  “Two destroyer-sized ships have taken off from one of the planets,” Danick said. “They’re heading straight for us.”

  “But they haven’t fixed us as a target,” Adira added.

  “We don’t even know if they do that,” Danick said.

  Mach shook his head. “Their ground defenses have.”

  “I’m ready to launch the drone,” Sanchez said. “Just say the word. At least we can probe the ships and get a better idea of their capability.”

  Squid extended his tentacles and chirped.

  Babcock’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “What did he say?” Mach said.

  The comms console pinged again.

  “Salus Sphere ship,” a quiet voice said through the speaker. “Land or die.”

  A tracking beam shot from one of the planets, displaying a sequence of undecipherable symbols across the scanner array. The two large ships closed on either side of the Intrepid.

  Lassea cupped her hand over her mouth and gasped.

  “Salus Sphere ship,” the voice repeated. “Follow our guidance system.”

  The fact that they spoke Salus Common was both encouraging and unnerving. With hundreds of weapons from the asteroids and dwarf planets locked on, two ships approaching, and a clear threat about what would happen if they didn’t land, Mach decided to follow the instructions.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Morgan
read over Seazza’s latest communiqué and kicked the aluminum pot stand across his office. Artificial compost littered the tightly woven beige carpet, the dark fragments resembling some far-off nebula.

  Orloza was beyond reach. Morgan’s efforts had failed, and now it seemed like the CW would sleepwalk into a war that they weren’t prepared to win. The horans had spent the intervening years improving their ships, their skills, and ultimately gaining a technological edge by uniting with the vestans within the Axis.

  He slumped to his chair and spun round to look out the great open window across the beautifully landscaped picture of Fides Prime. Perhaps that was the problem, he thought. The planet was so comfortable, seemingly perfect in every way, that the idea of war light-years away on the edge of the Sphere just didn’t seem real enough.

  Behind him, the door to his office slid open. The quiet footfalls of Seazza’s calm approach made him spin back to face her.

  “You got my message, then?” she said, waving a hand toward the mess on the floor. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Orloza. He just needs some time. I’m sure we can—”

  “No, he’s a lost cause, along with all the other old fossils stuck in their comfortable ways. Their heads are firmly buried in the silica.”

  Seazza drooped her shoulders and sighed. She took a seat opposite him and rested her elbows on his desk, dropping her chin onto her hands. “So what do we do now? Orloza was my main contribution. Without him, I’m not sure what else I can do.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that ever since Orloza became our last chance. I have to admit I wasn’t confident he’d listen to me. It seems the marshal has done a fine job of discrediting me across the CW hierarchy.”

  “Oh?” Seazza said, sitting back in her chair. “What do you have in mind?”

  Morgan scanned the room, more out of paranoia than any real concern they were being watched. In two places across the top of the rear and right side wall, wires poked from the plaster: cameras and mics that he had searched for and removed. That was a skill he had learned from Mach during their time serving together.