What Noreen and Marlyn didn’t know was that the four men on the Bridge of the Mark of Koban had made firm decisions, involving personal risks. They couldn’t shelter the TG1s from the necessary risks the coming fight forced on them, but they would not increase that level of risk by their having leaders that were physically too weak and slow to go with them. They were the older models needing upgrades, and Rafe had said that it was risky for people not born as SGs, with the technology he had. It was time to find out how risky.
Having started the wheels turning, Mirikami grimaced. “Gentlemen, we had better get a few hours of sleep. Trakenburg says his trainers will have our TGs assembled on the floor of the crater at 0600 local time, for ‘vigorous exercises,’ as he described them. He’ll let us sleep late this one morning only because we just had a long tough arrival day. The four of us are expected to be there. We have less than five hours. Enjoy your naps.”
****
Three days later, the supply pods were on their way to fifteen hundred mile equatorial orbits, with the Avenger and Beagle watching on their sensors. It was evening, for the time zone where the Mark was located.
Both wives had figured out Mirikami’s initially cryptic remarks about upgrading “older models.” Dillon had explained to her how Carson had needed to finish the landing on Poldark, after a series of violent maneuvers to avoid missiles had left only the TGs conscious. If the mission had required the SGs to be in full control, or Mirikami had not arranged for Carson to be on the Bridge, they all would have died.
The older men were now working out to get in better physical shape and as an example for the youngsters that nobody was exempt. The chief wisely stayed on the ship.
Noreen was laughing as her husband picked up the com line. “Carson was on watch, and he said he had to wake you up to take my call. It’s not even nine in the evening there. Getting a bit worn out aren’t we, future superman?”
“Don’t try to make me laugh,” he groaned. “My ribs and abs ache from the damned sit ups.”
“You do those all the time.”
“Not with a two-foot thick, twenty-foot long ironwood log on my chest, which I share lifting with Thad, Sarge, and even Tet, the four of us laid out in a row.
“You should see the solid metal posts they had to find for our TGs to use. Ironwood doesn’t grow thick or heavy enough to challenge the kids, so they brought in some thick steel poles used to build Dragon tank barriers. The mini-tanks themselves are not that hard to stop, but the plasma cannons burn through anything else too quickly. They weigh a ton. Actually, a lot more I think. The four of us can’t even pick one up. Three TGs can, and one of those was a small girl.”
Noreen was puzzled. “I don’t understand why they are pushing the TGs to exercise. They are ten times as strong as normal people already.”
“Hon, it’s part of team building, and just because they start strong, that doesn’t mean they are as fit as they can be. The instructors can’t match them, but have cut them no slack. Four of the TGs have already said they don’t want to do this. They didn’t like the fighting and killing on the clanship. They want a position on the Beagle, after we get home, or to join in the exploration of our other continents. Exploring is more to their liking. Tet told them they would get that chance, and informed all of our complement that there was no stigma in looking for a noncombat role, if that new role could still help our colony move ahead.” He checked his thumbnail watch, which he’d set to glow in his dark sleeping compartment.
“I have to get up at 0330, to be dressed and outside before the TGs assemble there in the morning at 0400. I’m supposed to be a perky and wide-awake leader example for them. I hate early mornings.”
“Poor baby. I mainly called to tell you that the Avenger is Jumping in an hour. I’ve just matched orbits with my pod. It’s even larger than I expected, so I can’t wait to open the presents. Having an AI again will be nice. I already spoke with Carson and said my goodbyes, and he recorded messages for home, to go with Marlyn.
“She has parked next to her own pod, which is gigantic, over half the volume of the Beagle. I think she is talking to Thad and Ethan right now. I’m so pleased that boy is already out of the med lab. It looks like TGs are fast healers as well, with that high metabolism.” Here she paused, looking into the camera, and watching his face on her own screen.
“I needed to tell you I love you. I know that you know that, but I needed to say it directly. I think you may visit home before I do, and I’m worried about your decision. I understand it, and may even follow your example. Only, I don’t want you any crazier than you are now. Even if Maggi thinks that would be an improvement.” She laughed weakly.
Rafe had said that the ripper gene mods for telepathy might not attach properly to the neural receptors of the existing unused super conducting nerves in the older SGs. He thought that such a failure could disrupt the subject’s ability to think. The cold reference to “subject” concealed the possible mental breakdown of a person’s mind, if the new neural growths in the brain did not link properly.
Dillon looked back into the beautiful dark eyes and perfect shaped face of the woman he loved, longing for physical contact. “Lady, I love you too. Have a safe trip. I hope the ‘toys’ we bought you are to your liking.”
After breaking contact, Dillon was slow returning to sleep.
****
Trakenburg was questioning Max, his AI. “So Nabarone’s Space Defense tried to trace the two outbound Jumps, but they only led to uninhabited systems?”
“Yes Sir. That’s what was reported to him. The two clanships apparently Jumped again immediately, and their wake in Tachyon Space was too diffuse for the tracking ships to follow after that. It appears the ship commanders are aware of our tracking capability.”
“I doubt Nabarone told them we had that ability, or he wouldn’t have tried to follow them. They could have figured it out some other way, it was discussed in the media after the two fleet actions years ago proved the Krall could do that.” Perhaps there were other clues.
“Max, you have listened to all of the conversations we recorded, and what they said before they knew we were listening. Have you found any clue as to where they came from?”
“Sir, there is a reference to a place called Koban a number of times, and they described the name of their new race of Homo sapiens as Kobanoid, another possible connection. However, there is no record of a planet discovery given that name. Their world must be well beyond the Rim area humanity has explored, and towards the region where the Krall originated. Beyond that, there is no definite clue to that world’s location.
“There are nearly a million stars within a wide cone, which is two thousand light- years deep along that galactic spur. Using T squared travel in Tachyon Space, even a three thousand light-year cone is within range of a two week Jump. Finding that particular planet would be more difficult than the often described human metaphor of a needle in a haystack.”
“OK. What have the DNA scans from our samples told us about the four older men, and the four wounded young men that we treated in the med labs?”
“Sir, the first reports are listed as possibly contaminated for all eight of them. The results found repeated examples of genes that are not part of the human genome at all, and of other unusual genes that are human, but did not appear in the general human population. They were formerly used in clone development before the Collapse. The tests are being redone.”
“The clone genes I expected, but the new genes are what made the so called TGs so fast and strong. They are new, and I want to know more about them, so assume they are not contamination.”
“Sir, the unknown genes are very complex and completely unrecorded previously, even among alien life on our many settled planets. Only one scientist said they could have been designed entirely by a team of geneticists, but most of the investigative team thinks the new genes are too well integrated in the younger people, and most likely were transferred from some living host that had them n
aturally. The muscles and nervous system the new genes produce have a fully functional interface, with a now passive human neural system present, which is largely bypassed by the newer organic superconducting nerves
“The bones of the younger subjects have some carbon nano tube enhancements that appear genetically distinct from the muscle and nervous system changes. It is as if they have received multiple genes from other pre-existing biological organisms.”
Trakenburg had the answer. Most of it anyway. “They have inserted nonhuman genes! Probably copied from animals on that heavy gravity planet. They lied to us. They said the TGs were reproductively compatible with normal humans.” He was shocked, and angry.
“Sir, I have no information as to the veracity of those that told you reproduction with the general human population is possible by those young men. However, the statement itself is correct. The young men that were treated in the med labs are completely capable of reproduction with human females that do not have the same genetic modifications.”
“Oh…” That abruptly stemmed his flow of adrenalin and anger.
He resumed considering the AI’s purloined reports. Trakenburg had obtained the data via his backdoor access to Nabarone’s own AI database.
He tried to summarize what he knew. “So, all the foreign genes were inserted in the children, called TGs, born of the older generation, called SGs which have only the clone enhancements.”
Always patient with wise humans and idiots alike, an AI corrected people with a subtle gentleness. “That is not the case at all, Sir.”
“I did not say nonhuman genes are absent in the DNA of the four older men. On the contrary. They have the same organic superconductor nervous system, in parallel to the normal nervous system, just as the TGs do, although it is nonfunctional. It was passed to the TGs at conception.”
“How can nonhuman genes be compatible with producing babies with ordinary women?” He was confused, and knew the AI surely had some other humbling revelation if he was only patient enough to let it “talk down” to him.
It came quickly. “You, Sir have had children, and yet you contain a number of genes that were derived from nonhuman sources. A gene derived from an Earth shark species is responsible for modern human resistance to several forms of cancer. The absence of facial and chest hair on men is…” The AI was cutoff.
“Stop. I get it.”
Now all he wanted to know was could the next phase of the Heavyside project steal the genetics for building better spec ops soldiers. Not that Max had that answer. The next phase on Heavyside, which no one had admitted to him involved genetics, surely had to change direction. Hardware and Booster Suits could never match what these kids had done to the Krall warriors. The scientists had their genes tagged and knew where they fit into their own DNA. What were needed were people that knew how to do the insertion work, and were willing to risk being caught and executed by their own government. Simple.
He finally knew exactly how Mirikami felt, and why, and was in complete sympathy. He couldn’t think of a way to take this data to his superiors, who would insist on knowing how he came by the information. Then there would be the need to obtain approval, which would be refused just as the original idea had been rejected. Except now, there was proof genetic improvement could work, and which he couldn’t reveal. If he did, the sole hope he saw of beating the Krall would be stopped by his own paranoid government.
The future of his beloved spec ops was again placed in a difficult situation. Their standard reply came to mind. A shadow couldn’t be held in place by standing on it, they would simply slip away. One way or another, he was going to join forces with Mirikami’s group, even if they didn’t want him along.
****
Nabarone was alone with his aide, having drinks with lunch. “Howard, I felt guilty about trying to have them both followed. Now that the ships split up and shook off our tails, I don’t feel so guilty. I won’t try again. They definitely are being careful, and not without cause. If they have just the one under populated and undefended world, a minor slip could get them all wiped out.”
“Boss, you know if they accomplish what they are trying to do, and stop the Krall by destroying their supply of war material, that no matter where their home system is located, it won’t be long before it becomes a center of power. Who would risk trying to push them around?”
“They only have about thirty thousand people, and no infrastructure. How could they manage that?” Yet in the back of his mind came a thought. It’s sometimes strange how words come back on you later.
“We know Mr. Greeves’ wife was going home. However, that much equipment should have taken over a day to transfer. Even when passed through the four wide ports on a clanship, with an experienced and sizable crew in suits to help. We couldn’t see the stealthed ship arrive, but the collection of container pods vanished suddenly, several hours after they were left in orbit. The empty pods are not there now, two days later.
“The same thing happened to the other pods. Blink and they were gone.” He laughed. “It’s not as if they could just haul them along like a back pack.”
“Well, at least that’s one thing I can ask Thad about. He knows we would have been watching the supplies, in case the Krall came after them. Assuming I can extract him from his spec ops trainers slash torturers to talk to him. They really are wringing them out. I have to be honest; I don’t see how, even with the clone mods, they are keeping pace with their younger trainers in their special suits. Even Tet. He’s well past middle age, and except for height limitations, is staying even with his three younger friends. I’m only thankful I can claim duty as my lame excuse for telling Thad I don’t have time to exercise.”
“Here’s to another six ounce arm curl,” proposed Caudwell, as he downed the last of his mixed drink.
“Have you been to the crater yet, Howard, to watch the workouts? I mean by the TGs, not the old farts, which are impressive but not astounding. You won’t believe what those kids can do.”
“No Sir. It’s only a thirty-minute hop, so I may do it this week. I’ve seen hard physical training before though. I was a captain in a PUA Ranger unit for a year, at the start of the war, on the Old Colony of New Glasgow. We ran a great deal, but we had a lot of PT and obstacle courses as well.”
“Have you seen the course the spec ops teams run?”
“I saw the course layout, but didn’t see them using it. That’s because they closed it off to outsiders, to retain some supposed level of secrecy. I assumed it was more to attain a level of mystique. However, the width and height of obstacles to jump across clamber over, crawl through or scale, were impressive. No Ranger I ever met could complete that course in the times spec ops claim, not with those scores. Assuming a Ranger completed it at all.”
“Howard, I used my authority to go watch some of them practice, at their facility outside New Zagreb. I don’t think its hype to build a phony reputation. From personally observing them perform feats of running, jumping, climbing, and demonstrations of individual and combined team strength exercises, I can tell you it isn’t bullshit. Besides, a mystique to impress who? The Krall don’t give a crap, and can kick their asses nearly as easily as they can any of our troops. Spec ops are only narrowing the gap, to try and hold out longer against the enemy.”
“Thad and his friends, with their clone enhancements, are physically well matched with the spec ops troops, when those troops wear their black exomuscle suits. The electronic implants provide them IR vision and data feed, and the fiber nerve overlays boost their reaction speed over the SGs. However, if you add that technology and Booster Suits to the SGs, they would have all of the spec ops ability, plus significantly greater strength, with heat and cold adaptation advantages. That alone would have had Trakenburg salivating. Until he found what he really wants! The ability of those TGs.”
“Henry, I saw the videos of the inside of the clanship, after the fact with dead Krall laying everywhere. There were no shots of the TGs in action. Are they
that much better?”
“Yes! They make the spec ops instructors look like they’re wading through mud when they try to keep pace on the new course they duplicated in the crater. That’s when the TGs are running, jumping, and climbing. Any two of them can lift or carry as much as an eight-man boosted spec ops team. When it comes to reaction times, like hand or foot speed in hand-to-hand or knife fighting, the differential is even more pronounced.
“Thad claims they also think at an accelerated rate. They don’t appear to be any smarter than the normal range of young people, which of course are always sure they know everything.” He laughed at that truism.
“However, if you or I had one second to think of what to do when an enemy is about to pull a trigger, versus ten seconds to think about it, and the ability to act that much faster, you are far more likely to choose the best response. The same for a tactical situation, with more time to analyze what the possibilities are and match them with your grater capabilities, then follow an action that the enemy is least able to counter.”
“If you give me the authorization in writing, or call Trakenburg, I might be able to finally see what you’ve been telling me about. The blackout on data feeds is a real pain. We don’t usually have to travel to check on an operation we are supposedly running. The colonel is acting like that crater is his own preserve.”
“My fault. I needed the colonel’s people for the kind of training Thad wanted. He was given more control over access because of his own need to keep his involvement quiet. I don’t think he has passed this up the line to his superiors. When Mirikami asked us to join the conspiracy to keep their existence secret, the colonel bought in all the way. He’s been doing that for years already, for the Heavyside project, and I think secrecy is part of his personality.”
Koban: Rise of the Kobani Page 22