Tu’Rhen had given U’Vol this information on a closed channel shared only by the two of them as well as U’Nai, the third and final high officer of the ground crew.
Tu’Nai’s guttural howl filled the comm bandwidth and buzzed U’Vol’s head.
“Where are you, Tu’Nai?” U’Vol asked.
He grunted and growled low again. “On the ramp. I’ve brought in the last of all who still stand, Captain. We’ll be harnessed and ready for take off in less than two minutes. Though little good it will do, Captain.”
Tu’Nai was right. The Wa’Nar was not built to withstand the rigors of traveling in the Mocht Bogha. Their hull was nearly full of food, enough to supply them sustenance on the months’ long journey. But no one had ever tried to take a small ground based ship through a warp gate before. The Wa’Nar could break apart or implode from the intense pressure.
And even if we make it back home, what will we find waiting for us there?
U’Vol chose to act as though he had not heard Tu’Nai’s concerns. “Strap in, Tu’Nai. And do not tell the crew about the Dra’Knar. Not yet.”
U’Vol’s comm blinked yellow and he allowed the message to interrupt. It was the warp fields officer. “Captain, the Mocht Bogha is showing unusual fluctuations, sir. This is most curious.”
Curious wasn’t the word U’Vol would have chosen. He had known that Bodaway was keeping something from him. He now knew what the massive spikes in radio waves meant.
The Sarhi are attempting to close the Mocht Bogha.
U’Vol gave the command for take off and the ship lifted off. The comm was alive with chatter from Tu’Rhen to the men in the command module and to the rest of the crew.
They powered through the atmosphere of K’Sarhi and the comm was silent for a time as the ship shook and rattled. As soon as they exited K’Sarhi’s atmosphere, the comm crackled alive again with the noisy chatter of all departments reporting to Tu’Rhen.
U’Vol’s interface flashed yellow. “The Mocht Bogha is unstable, Captain. Whatever is happening to it, if it continues, it will close before we can reach it, sir.”
It was what U’Vol had suspected and feared. His mind raced with a solution. He ordered full thrust but even at the Wa’Nar’s maximum speed, the Mocht Bogha was at the outer edge of this solar system. It would take hours to reach it. They didn’t have hours.
“Tu’Rhen, can we reconfigure the bogha generator to create a warp bubble around the Wa’Nar, rather than just a Valo’Kar?”
“It was not made to generate a field that large, Captain. That has never been attempted. It could –”
U’Vol took a breath to keep himself from flying into a rage at Tu’Rhen. “I do not want to hear the mights and maybes, Commander. If that gate closes, we are lost in space. Do we have any other options?”
The comm was silent for a moment.
“No, Captain. I have no alternatives to offer.”
“Then do it, Tu’Rhen. Now!”
U’Vol continued to monitor all communications though it gave him a pounding headache to follow so many conversations. Tu’Rhen gave the command power on the bogha generator and increase the field strength to take in the entire ship. He met resistance from the engineers. Tu’Rhen was even less patient with the engineers than U’Vol had been with Tu’Rhen.
“Do as I command or your skins will adorn my walls,” he barked.
The officer monitoring the Mocht Bogha continued to report its lessening strength. U’Vol closed off that channel. He did not need minute-by-minute reminders of their impending peril.
The floor beneath him shook and his ears were accosted with an odious buzz. He had been reclined in the command chair as was custom during take offs and landings, but he made the chair rise and he gripped the quaking arm rests.
The engineers working on the bogha generator reported it was at fifty-percent strength. The metal of the ship groaned in protest.
“Seventy-percent.”
The pressure made him feel as though all air had been pressed from his lungs by the hand of a giant. His ears had only just stopped ringing from his travel in the Valo’Kar. Now they rang again only worse this time.
“Eighty-percent.”
The wound in his side burned as though he was again being torn open. His joints ached and his head felt near to splitting. A few of his fellow Vree bellowed and held their heads from the pain.
“Ninety-percent.”
Black played at the edges of his vision. He panted hard, his knuckles bone white from grasping the console so hard.
The engineer did not announce one-hundred percent. Likely he passed out from the pain as several of the command crew had. U’Vol remained conscious from sheer will alone.
The walls of the ship wavered, solid one minute, a shimmery shadow the next. The comm was silent and the men around him appeared to move in slow motion. His eardrums had either shattered or they had entered a space in which they were ahead of the sound. Even the ringing of his ears was gone.
Time ceased to exist and yet time was all that there was. Tu’Vagh’s lips moved but U’Vol had no idea what he said.
His head swam. Lights danced before his eyes like the pale yellow of the night bugs on Ghapta.
He was dancing with Eponia on the night of their tethering. Her pale hair had been braided but one swift flick of his fingers and the leather wrap holding it was gone. He loved the feel of her silken hair in his fingers. He grabbed a handful of it gently in one hand as he pressed her close to him with the other. Flickering light of open flame candles twinkled in her golden eyes as she smiled up at him. He had gone through tethering four times before, but never had he enjoyed it half so much.
The lights flickered before his eyes. Eponia.
The lights were gone. Shadows played at the corners of his eyes and stole his vision. Eponia was gone and he knew only cold and dark.
48
JACK
Jack stood in the rubble of what used to be a plaster façade of an eighteenth century French apartment building. Truck backup beeping rang in the distance, likely clearing rubble. A dog barked. There were no sounds of car horns blaring or buses moving. The streets were not passable in this area.
He touched the screen of his phone and snapped a picture of Anna. She sat on a pile of bricks and held a tiny kitten. She fed it milk from a dropper.
A gaggle of children surrounded her, eager for their turn to play mama to the abandoned cat babies. Alecto stood with the children, barely taller than they were. Her thin lips were pulled back in a full smile, her expression as excited as the tots to hold the baby kitten. The children and Alecto, like the kitten, were orphans.
He zoomed in and snapped another picture. He wanted it to be a tight close up. The photo didn’t capture the pile of concrete and asphalt rubble behind them or the burned out buildings. The pic was for Erika and Ian.
Jack had sent them a picture a day ever since he, Anna and Alecto arrived in France. At first, Jack’s pictures had been shot wide, taking in the burned out buildings, dead bodies and other signs of carnage. Ian and Erika had both asked him to scale it back. They’d seen enough death and destruction to last a lifetime.
There once was a time when a beautiful woman whose face was marred by an ugly red scar and a milky eye would cause children to stare and maybe even be afraid. But Anna was just one of many who bore the scars of the Alien War, as it had come to be known. Everyone assumed that she had been attacked by one of the biomechanical wolf men. She let people think that. It was easier than trying to explain how she’d gotten the wound from her cousin in a secret war that none of them would ever know about.
Anna and Thomas were both still wealthier than nearly anyone else alive. They had inherited both their father’s Sturgis fortune as well as their mother’s Croft money and holdings. But money hardly mattered to them even before the Alien War. It mattered even less now. Anna and Thomas created the Sturgis Foundation and poured nearly their entire fortune into it. The foundation would augm
ent government efforts worldwide to rebuild infrastructure and provide humanitarian aid.
A few months after the Mocht Bogha closed, Anna and Jack set off to Europe to join humanitarian efforts to rebuild war-ravaged Europe. They spent their days digging in rubble searching for bodies, helping in makeshift hospitals and getting food and water to people in need.
Jack had been shocked when Alecto had asked to come with them.
“You said there are many sick people. Injured people. I can heal them,” she’d said.
Anna had hugged Alecto. “Of course you can come. A brilliant idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
It was a good idea in some respects. Alecto was right. Her healing abilities alleviated suffering for hundreds, possibly thousands of people. But having her along meant having a third wheel companion with them nearly constantly. Alecto knew little of the world. She was, in many ways, like a child so he and Anna were like parents to her.
But Alecto learned quickly and with each day she grew more independent. Jack enjoyed watching her learn and grow perhaps as much as Anna did. And when Alecto wasn’t around, he was surprised at how much he missed her company.
Anna gently handed the kitten off to a little boy of probably four. His eyes were wide with wonder. His tiny hands shook with eagerness to hold the soft kitten. Anna showed the boy how to feed the kitten with the dropper. Alecto helped him feed the baby cat while Anna scooped up a little girl not more than two and held her close.
She looked up and caught Jack staring at her. He couldn’t help it. He loved her so much it hurt. Anna put the little girl’s hand in hers and made the girl wave in Jack’s direction as she tickled the child with her other hand. The girl squealed with laughter and a few kids at Anna’s side joined in the fun, tickling Anna’s sides. Her head flung back, her laugh a harmonious melody that floated through the dust-filled air and burrowed into Jack’s heart.
Someday they’d have children together. He could see it like a hazy movie reel in his mind almost as if it had already happened. Sometimes he felt like he was living now just to get to that point.
But he was in no rush. They took each day – each moment – like it could be their last. Because they knew more than most that it truly could be.
49
commAnDER StURGIS
Lillian Sturgis exited the house in Apthartos that had been built for William Croft and pulled the door shut. It had taken several liters of bleach to scrub away the stains of his blood, but she finally made it clean. It was her home now.
Her footsteps echoed on the brick sidewalks of the empty city as she walked toward the lab in the A.H.D.N.A. wing of the vast underground complex. Sewell had suggested she get an electric cart to drive but she rejected the idea. “My work here is not done, Sewell. The walking will give me the energy I need to finish what I started.”
Sewell had offered to stay on as her assistant. She didn’t know if his offer was made out of the vestiges of his old loyalty or simply because in the rapidly changing world above, a denizen of the old ways had no place. She and Sewell had lived their lives preparing for war. The world above had nearly come to the brink of Armageddon and suffered horribly at the hands of the aliens. The people of Earth longed for universal peace, not more weapons of war.
But whatever the reason that Sewell asked to stay, Sturgis had gladly accepted his offer. As it was, at least until her clones were old enough to help, she and Sewell would need to do the jobs of a dozen or more people to keep Apthartos and their lab operational.
The world above would tire of peace. Sturgis was certain of that. Some country, faction or individual would agitate and the world would be back to bombs and guns. But until then, she and Sewell devoted themselves to what they’d started.
Sturgis passed many doors behind which others used to work, but the offices were empty now. The high-speed train tracks were barren. The humidification system was in the off position. For the most part, A.H.D.N.A. now slept.
As far as the outside world was concerned, the H.A.L.F. program was no more and the A.H.D.N.A. facility was an expensive but empty hole in the ground. The train tunnel from the air force base in Tucson was sealed off. Anyone who had worked at A.H.D.N.A. was reassigned. Sturgis had once opposed the closure but in the end oversaw it herself.
The double doors leading to the main lab were open. There was no longer a need for key cards and secrecy. She and Sewell were the only ones there.
The aroma of freshly brewed tea wafted out. Sewell had a cup of Earl Gray steeping for her, sitting on her desk in the corner of the lab. Steam rose from the white porcelain cup. A silver spoon holding a single cube of sugar rested on the saucer. She gently stirred the sugar into the tea and took a sip. The warmth of her morning brew was one of the few small luxuries she afforded herself. After a few months up top, the damp underground world chilled her more than it had in the past. She drained the tea while reviewing data collected the day before about the status of the clones. She spritzed her orchids then delved into the inner lab room in search of Sewell.
Her heels clicked on the concrete floor as she walked. Sewell was standing at one of the artificial womb machines, his eyes riveted to the computer screen. He barely looked up when she entered.
“How are they doing today?” she asked.
Sewell swiped across the screen to turn off the computer and stowed it. “I’ve checked four of the six. C1 through C3 are all at optimum levels. But I think you should have a look at C4 here. The oxygen levels are in the low-normal range.”
Sturgis moved closer to the oval-shaped glass receptacle that held the human-Conexus fetus. She peered into it. The being’s thin arms and legs were tucked into its body and it sucked on its tiny thumb. “Did you check the hoses?”
“Not yet, Commander.”
Sturgis rolled her eyes. “How many times must I tell you not to call me that? Call me Lillian, or even Sturgis. But I no longer have anything to command.”
Sewell handed her the electronic tablet he’d been holding so she could see the data he’d recorded that morning. “An old habit.” He inspected the stainless steel tubing that ran from the glass womb to the apparatus below. He pulled a bright penlight out of his pocket and ran his hand along the tube. “No kinks or obvious holes in this one.” He repeated his inspection with the other three tubes snaking from the bottom section of the machine to the top. “It won’t be long and you’ll again have people under your command.” Sewell put his penlight away. “No obvious defects.”
Sturgis’ brows knitted together. “Up the flow rate by two percent. Check C4 again in two hours and if the oxygen levels have not improved, do a scan of the lungs.”
“Yes ma’am.”
While Sewell did as Sturgis had requested, she checked the vitals of C5 and C6. Though the six hybrids were clones with identical DNA, she had an affinity toward C6. Though it looked exactly like the others, it appeared to possess a more greatly developed telekinetic ability. Even though it was still only seven months old, it sensed her presence. As she pulled up the computer screen, C6 opened its eyes. The clone, a genetic duplicate of Alecto, stared directly at her with huge, black alien eyes.
“Hello, C6,” she said. She peered in and a wide, genuine smile came to her lips. Sturgis marveled at the miracle of the life she had created. She gently placed her hand on the glass, her fingers splayed open.
C6, floating peacefully in the manufactured amniotic fluid, slowly reached its thin arm toward her. Its tiny hand, only a few inches long, touched the glass as if trying to touch her hand.
“It won’t be long, little one,” she whispered. “You and your sisters will soon be strong enough to leave your watery world.”
Sewell coughed lightly.
Sturgis quickly removed her hand from the glass. “What is it Sewell?”
“I’ve increased the flow rate for C4. How is C6 doing?” He peered into the womb from the other side, his face distorted by the glass into a strange wide shape with oversized eyes.
; “She is perfect.” Sturgis swiped the screen to view another page of graphs and data. “I’ve decided to name her Alexa.”
“I thought you weren’t going to name them.”
Sturgis typed a note into her tablet. “Dr. Randall coddled 9.” She looked up at the tiny clone. “I chastised him for it. I thought that if we treated them too much like children that it would weaken them.” Alexa reached her tiny hand out to Sturgis again. “I was wrong. 9 was…” Her throat was tight. She swallowed. “They’re my children, Sewell. And I’ll raise them as such.”
Sewell smiled and peered up at little Alexa floating in her light blue home. “Uncle Sewell.”
Sturgis nodded. “I like that.”
Sewell coughed and his smile faded. “But to what purpose? The M’Uktah have been beaten. Humanity is safe again.”
“For now,” she said. “Sewell, we survived an attack by an advanced alien predator and learned the truth: we are not alone. Humanity is not unique. We are but one of many intelligent species in this universe. It will take a while for that to sink in up top.”
“Yes, that’s true. But what role will Alexa and the others play?”
“My life’s mission was to save our species from extinction at the hands of aliens. But my clones have a new purpose.” She once again splayed her hand on the glass. “One day Alexa and her sisters will save humanity from itself.”
50
ERIKA
The ceiling and walls were rosy pink with the glow of morning. Erika stood on the balcony with a hot cup of Kona coffee in her hand and peered down the hill toward the ocean churning toward the shore. She cupped her hand over her forehead to cut down on glare. Finally she spotted him. Ian was pretty far out, a tiny dot straddling his surfboard. He floated like flotsam waiting to be carried ashore.
His new friend Ryan was with him, no doubt. She was glad he had met someone new. It took the sting out of what Ben, aka Brad, had done to him if not eliminated it completely. She warned Ian to take it slow which, in hindsight, was like asking matches not to set kerosene on fire.
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