by Ryk Brown
“Sounds like too much work,” Vladimir said.
“Where’s the guest of honor?” Jessica wondered.
“He’ll be here shortly,” Nathan answered. “Did you find anything about him in the Ark files?”
“Nothing,” Jessica answered as she took her seat. “The Ark doesn’t contain information about individuals unless they did something noteworthy.”
“Then we’ll have no way to validate whatever he tells us,” Cameron noted.
“Other than repetitive questioning, no,” Jessica admitted, “and that will only take us so far.”
“What is it you’re hoping to discover?” Vladimir asked.
“What went wrong,” Nathan answered. “Why were more than half of the cargo containers still in orbit? Why weren’t the remaining colonists revived and moved down to the surface? What happened to the colonists that did go down to the surface?”
“If he was in stasis the whole time, he probably won’t have any of those answers.”
“Yeah, I’d thought of that,” Nathan said. “Well, at the very least, he might be able to shed some light on what happened after the Data Ark was sealed off. There is still so much we don’t know about the fall of the core worlds and the Earth itself. He actually lived through it.”
“How is that going to help us in our current situation?” Jessica wondered.
“It won’t,” Nathan admitted, “but it is interesting.”
The conversation was interrupted when the door opened and Mister Percival was wheeled in by one of Jessica’s Corinari security officers. His hair had been trimmed and tied back, and his beard shaved. He sported a basic day uniform without any rank insignia or service patches.
“Mister Percival, welcome.” Nathan seemed a bit taken aback by the wheel chair. “If you’re not up to this, we can postpone…”
“No need, Captain,” Mister Percival insisted. He struggled slightly to rise to his feet and walked the two meters from his wheelchair to his place at the captain’s table. “I am well enough to dine and partake in some light conversation. I’m just not yet strong enough to walk from the medical center to your dining cabin, at least not according to young Doctor Chen.”
“If you’re sure then.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, I haven’t eaten in a thousand years.”
“Not a statement you hear every day,” Nathan noted. “I hope you don’t mind, but on the advice of Doctor Chen, tonight’s menu will be on the bland side.”
“Yes, I have been instructed to eat lightly until my digestive system returns to normal.”
“Very well then. Shall we eat?” Nathan motioned to Mister Collins, his personal chef, to begin dinner service.
Mister Percival looked at Cameron.
“Oh, my apologies,” Nathan offered, realizing that Mister Percival and Cameron had not yet been introduced. “This is my executive officer, Commander Cameron Taylor.”
“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Mister Percival said.
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” Cameron answered politely.
“You have a fine ship, Captain,” Mister Percival began, “from what little I have seen of her. What type of vessel is she?”
“The Aurora was built primarily as a ship of exploration and diplomacy,” Nathan explained.
“Your personnel do not appear to be explorers, Captain.”
“As we are a member of the Earth Defense Force, we are also a ship of war. Recent events have required us to take a more aggressive stance in terms of security.”
“What type of events?”
“It’s a bit complicated,” Nathan said, sidestepping the topic, “and perhaps a matter better discussed later.”
“Of course. I assume your ship is FTL capable.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Again, Nathan was avoiding answering Mister Percival’s question directly.
“Another matter best left for later?” Mister Percival wondered aloud.
“Probably, yes. For now, let’s just say that the Aurora is capable of moving about the galaxy more quickly than most ships.”
Mister Percival took a small bite of the salad placed before him, chewing slowly as he savored the taste and texture of the unfamiliar leafy vegetables. “This is quite tasty. However, I am unfamiliar with this vegetable.”
“We obtained it during our journey,” Nathan stated. “I can inquire as to its name if you’d like.”
“It is not necessary,” Mister Percival stated as he took another bite. He chewed another moment, watching the others as they also worked on their meals. All eyes seemed to be upon him. “Perhaps we should skip the pleasantries and get to the heart of the matter. I am sure you all have many questions of me. I am more than willing to answer them to the best of my knowledge.”
“Tell us about your mission,” Nathan said. “Your ship was last listed as decommissioned. According to your logs, your ship began service again in 2370 under the command of Alan Dubnyk.”
“Yes, he was our captain.”
“Captain Dubnyk was an independent hauler dealing in questionable cargo, and doing so in an unregistered and unregulated vessel. He was hardly the type one would hire to transport a colonization mission.”
“Quite true, Captain. But his price was right, and pickings were slim at the time. That made the decision rather easy.”
Nathan looked puzzled. “You speak as if you have firsthand knowledge of the transaction.”
“I was the mission’s benefactor, Captain. I was the one that hired him.”
“You were the mission’s benefactor,” Jessica said in disbelief.
“I was not its sole source of finance,” Mister Percival explained, “just its largest contributor. Every passenger paid for their passage, as well as their basic supplies. I paid for the stasis pods and the colonization packages that would ensure the success of the settlement.”
“Still, a sizable and somewhat risky investment,” Nathan stated.
“It was a crazy and horrific time, Captain. You might be surprised how little normal logic applied to day–to-day life back then.”
“Still, we’re talking billions of credits, Mister Percival. You must have been quite wealthy.”
“Actually, it was more like millions. As I said, each passenger had to pay their own way. And much of the equipment needed was available on the black market, one of the many benefits of mounting such a mission from the fringe instead of the core.”
“It doesn’t sound entirely legal,” Cameron said, her face revealing no underlying emotions.
Mister Percival laughed. “There was very little about the mission that was legal, Commander. Then again, there was very little that was legal about most refugee missions. Like I said, it was a crazy, horrific time.”
“Still,” Nathan said, “I can’t help but wonder why you invested such a disproportionate amount of your own money into the expedition.”
“I was trying to save my own life.”
“Wasn’t everyone?” Cameron asked.
“No, you don’t understand,” Mister Percival explained, shaking his head. “In the beginning, there were many evacuee colonization expeditions, each of them fully licensed and properly registered with the appropriate authorities. But I could not buy my way into any of them because of medical problems.”
“What type of medical problems?” Nathan asked.
“I have an incurable degenerative muscular disorder called Minnian’s disease. This precluded me from being a member of legitimate colonization missions. The only way I could see to survive the plague was to fund my own expedition. It was well known that unregistered expeditions were leaving fringe worlds on a regular basis, so I traveled to 26 Draconis where I met up with Captain Dubnyk. Together, we assembled an expedition of five hundred evacuees with all the appropriate equipment and supplies needed to guarantee their success.”
“That still would not save your life,” Vladimir stated. “It would only prevent you from succumbing to the plague.”
/> “The pod,” Nathan realized. “You intended to stay in it until a cure was found.”
“Correct,” Mister Percival admitted.
“Couldn’t you have done that at home?” Jessica wondered.
“The predictions were dire,” Mister Percival stated. “It was all over the news. Civilization in the core was headed for complete collapse. It seemed safer to have my pod taken elsewhere for safe keeping.”
“That’s why you funded the expedition,” Cameron said.
“My only requirement was that my pod be kept safe and functioning. It was designed to last for hundreds of years, even without human supervision. If and when a cure for my ailment was discovered, I was to be revived and cured.”
“That’s why you chose BD+25 3252,” Nathan realized, “because of its location.”
“It was not too far out, in case some of the fringe worlds managed to survive, and it was not too far off the flight path of many other expeditions that had already launched.”
“Hedging your bets,” Jessica commented.
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Mister Percival put down his fork. “Captain, other than funding an unregistered expedition, I did nothing wrong. In fact, I gave five hundred evacuees a chance that they otherwise might not have had. It is unfortunate that it did not work out for them.”
“We aren’t here to pass judgment on you, Mister Percival,” Nathan assured him. “We just want to know the truth. As you have said, those were difficult times. You are incredibly lucky to have survived them.”
The room went silent for several minutes as they dined. Both Nathan and Jessica watched Mister Percival through discreet glances. Although his story made sense and lined up with what little they knew about the time of the great plague, there was something about the man that didn’t sit right with Nathan.
“Captain,” Mister Percival said, breaking the tense silence, “I have been made aware that the others on the Jasper did not survive, but no one has told me what happened to them.”
“We don’t really know for sure,” Nathan admitted, “at least, not yet. All we know is that about two hundred of them went down to the surface, along with nearly half of their cargo. We found the Jasper, just over half her cargo, and three hundred passengers who passed away in their stasis pods—except for you, of course.”
“What happened to those who went to the surface?” Mister Percival asked.
Nathan noticed a lack of hope in the man’s voice. “I’m afraid they did not survive either. Apparently, the winters were more harsh than originally anticipated.”
“The second planet of the BD+25 3252 system was considered habitable,” Mister Percival insisted, “borderline, due to the fact that two-thirds of the world was covered by ice, but habitable nonetheless. Any idea what caused their demise?”
“All we know is that they appeared to have starved and frozen to death.”
“Was there any information in the colony logs?”
“We are working on retrieving the colony logs, as well as those from the Jasper. We were hoping you might know something about their demise.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I was placed in stasis before departure. I never even met the other passengers, only Captain Dubnyk and the flight medic.”
Another uncomfortable silence fell on them as they continued to dine. “I cannot help but wonder how many of them actually made it,” Mister Percival stated, breaking the silence once again. His eyes rose from his plate to meet Nathan’s. He noticed a puzzled look on the captain’s face. “I’m sorry; I was speaking of all the other expeditions. There were so many in the end, some well prepared, some not so much. I wonder how many of them survived or even thrived and grew into fully industrialized worlds.”
“We have come across a few,” Nathan admitted. “You said there were many such expeditions?”
“Yes, indeed. Perhaps thousands.” Mister Percival paused for a moment. “But surely, being from Earth, you know all of this.”
“We have no records pertaining to the collapse of the core. The records in the Data Ark end just as the digital aspect of…”
“The Data Ark? The collapse?” Mister Percival wondered. “What are you talking about, Captain? What collapse?”
“I’m sorry, Mister Percival. I assumed you knew,” Nathan said.
“How bad was it? I mean, the predictions were grave, but we always figured it was because they wanted to sell more colonization packages.”
“I’m not quite sure how to tell you this,” Nathan began. “I cannot speak directly about any of the core or fringe worlds, but the bio-digital plague killed ninety percent of the population of Earth. All civilization fell into ruins, as there simply weren’t enough people to keep everything running: no power, no government, no industry. Those that survived converted to a primitive existence. The Earth fell into a technological dark age that lasted over seven hundred years.”
“But you are here, in this ship. Surely you did not go from sticks and stones to starships in a mere three hundred years.”
“About three hundred years ago, we began a second industrial revolution. But we had to rediscover most of our science and technology, as everything had been stored digitally. We had just entered the age of flight when we discovered the Data Ark.”
“The Data Ark?”
“A vast digital ark stored in a vault buried in the Swiss Alps. It was powered by geothermal energy and had been designed to operate in standby mode for centuries, even millennia if need be. It contained all of humanity’s science, technology, culture, and history from before the plague. We used the data from the ark to jump ahead three hundred years technologically in only a century. But the Data Ark had been sealed up once the digital component of the plague was discovered. So you see, we know very little about what happened other than what our archaeologists have been able to piece together.”
Mister Percival appeared somewhat pale. “Ninety percent?”
“Are you all right, Mister Percival?” Cameron asked.
“And what of the core worlds? And the fringe? What became of them?”
“We don’t know for sure,” Nathan admitted. “The people of Earth have only just gotten back into space. In fact, this ship is the Earth’s first FTL capable starship other than a few small test ships used to develop FTL capabilities.”
“But if you have come this far out, surely you must know something of the core worlds?”
“I’m afraid we do not.”
“But how?”
“It’s complicated. Our best guess is that the core and fringe worlds suffered a similar fate. The Aurora was designed to seek out and make contact with the lost worlds and to reestablish diplomatic relations. Unfortunately, we learned that many, if not all, of the core and fringe worlds are under the control of the Jung Empire.”
“The Jung? Who are the Jung?”
“We know very little about them, just that they are ruthless and take what they want by force.”
“How many worlds do they control?” Mister Percival asked.
“It is our understanding that they control all of them,” Nathan stated, “all of them except Sol.”
Mister Percival pushed his plate away, his face pale and his expression downtrodden. “Captain, if you’ll please excuse me, I’m feeling a bit weak at the moment. This news is all a bit overwhelming. I think it might be best if I return to medical for the evening.”
“Of course,” Nathan agreed, motioning for the security officer to bring the wheelchair. “We can talk another time.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Mister Percival said as he moved to the wheelchair, “and for rescuing me. Unfortunately, it appears that my plan has not worked as well as I’d hoped.”
Nathan and his staff watched as the security officer wheeled Mister Percival away. As the door closed behind them, Nathan continued his meal.
“He is lying,” Vladimir said as he stabbed a mound of lettuce.
Nathan looked at him quizzically out of the corner of
his eye. He also felt that there was much Mister Percival was holding back, but it was only a hunch; he had no evidence to back his suspicions. He was surprised that Vladimir had been the one to openly make the accusation, as the engineer never seemed to bother with such matters. Nathan would have expected suspicions from Jessica or Cameron.
Vladimir could feel Nathan looking at him. As usual, he did not wait until his mouth was empty to speak. “The log clock on his stasis chamber.”
“What log clock?” Nathan asked.
“It is on the side, high on the right. It is small, easy to miss. It shows how long the occupant has been in stasis. It is a simple backup device in case the operational logs are corrupted. Medical personnel need to know how long the occupant was in stasis in order to properly revive them in case the automatic reanimation system fails.”
“What about the log clock?” Jessica demanded impatiently.
Vladimir looked surprised at her reaction. “Am I the only one who finds interest in such details?”
“Why do you think he is lying?” Nathan asked calmly. He, too, was getting impatient, as Vladimir did tend to over-explain things.
“He said he was put into stasis before the journey began. That was over one thousand years ago, da?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did the backup log clock show eight hundred twelve years?”
Nathan stared at Vladimir.
“I only realized this discrepancy when he was speaking,” Vladimir defended, recognizing Nathan’s expression.
“Jess?” Nathan said.
“I’ll keep digging through the Jasper’s logs,” Jessica promised.
“And?”
“I’ll have security keep an eye on Mister Percival twenty-four seven.”
“Vlad?”
“I’ll keep working on the data core from the surface.”
Nathan took another bite of his salad.
“No instructions for me?” Cameron wondered.
“Nope. You’re good,” Nathan answered as he continued working on his salad.
“You know, it might be a good idea for Cam to buddy up to him,” Jessica suggested.
“Buddy up?” Cameron inquired.