Vengeance of Sukesh: John Mason (Legend of John Mason)

by Barbara J Robertson

  “Hello, John Mason. We have chosen to announce our wish to study the ancient records. We have chosen this night to show ourselves to your Joint Chiefs to demonstrate our good will and intentions,” Dr. James answered. The lizard commander looked at everyone.

  “Dr. James, your timing is legendary. Why have you chosen tonight?” Mason repeated.

  The Yellow Man screwed up his strange face in his attempt at a smile. “John Mason, you are as perceptive as always. The team conducting your research on the crystals will make a startling discovery tomorrow morning, which will change your view of your own history. The ONE wish to share in that moment of awakening with you,” Dr. James said. “Your scientists will make history, Admiral Rachel Mason, as will you.”

  “If you know what will be discovered, tell us now, and we will decide whether to share it with you,” Admiral Worthington offered.

  “It is best to let the natural sequence of events transpire,” the Yellow Man said, in a bored tone of voice.

  “Were you aware of the ancient records previously, Dr. James?” Admiral Mason asked.

  “The ONE have known about the records for millennia. Indeed, they are one of the reasons the ONE chose to return to your solar system, to search for the ancient knowledge,” the Yellow Man answered, pleased at her question.

  “But you did not know where they would be found; is that a correct assumption, Dr. James?” Captain Hanson asked.

  “Yes, Captain Esther Hanson, your assumption is correct. To our great surprise, your species has made the discovery. We wish to study with you,” he answered, trying to smile at her. Mason saw Captain Hanson react to the Yellow Man cautiously.

  “The ONE and your agents have been responsible for great loss of life, Dr. James. Why should we trust you now?” General Ling asked.

  “We wish to join our species, and study you. The ONE wish to study the ancient records and knowledge,” he repeated, now looking perturbed.

  “We will bring your request to study the ancient records to our High Council. But with your record of treachery, sabotage, and killing of our men and women, I am certain their decision will not be favorable,” Admiral Worthington stated.

  “We wish to offer you a gift, to demonstrate our genuine offer to study the ancient records.” Dr. James passed his hand in front of the screen, and an elongated, narrow cone-shaped object a half meter long appeared in the center of the dinner table; Wilson and Ling jumped out of their chairs.

  “It is a translation device, is it not, Dr. James?” Mason calmly asked, standing guard next to his Admiral and Captain Hanson, neither of whom flinched at the object’s appearance.

  Dr. James smiled very broadly in his own fashion at Mason. “You are truly our Most Perfect Man, John Mason. No one else at your table knew the purpose of this device. Yes, it is a translation device. It can translate thousands of languages, from several species. It is also a transmitter. Anything it translates will be shared with the ONE, for our mutual study and benefit. This device will open doors of history and discovery for both our species, John Mason.”

  “Why do some Great Vault areas not permit illumination, Dr. James?” Admiral Mason asked.

  “You have asked a key question, Admiral Rachel Mason, one whose answer no one knows at this time,” the Yellow Man stated.

  “May I ask if Sukesh is still one of your agents, Dr. James? Does he do your bidding, or has he grown beyond the control of yourself and the ONE?” Mason asked calmly.

  “Sukesh is still one of our agents, John Mason. But he has his own agenda, as well, which is not in alignment with our purpose and intentions,” the Yellow Man admitted.

  “Two of us here still bear the scars of Sukesh’s private agenda, Dr. James. Has he grown beyond your control?” Mason asked again.

  “Sukesh has gained the support of many of your own species. It was not the intent of the ONE to force transformation on anyone. It is a gift bestowed only to the most worthy volunteers. We wish to join our species peacefully, John Mason,” the Yellow Man answered.

  “We will bring your request before the High Council,” Admiral Worthington repeated.

  “Then, I will leave you in peace,” the Yellow Man said, and shimmered out.

  The Joint Chiefs all sat back in silence. Mason scanned the translator and showed the results to Admiral Mason and Captain Hanson, and the Joint Chiefs. It was impenetrable to his scan, and the metal it was made from was unidentifiable. At one end was a slot.

  “I bet that’s where the crystals get inserted,” he said, pointing at the slot.

  “Did anyone think to record all that?” The Commandant asked.

  Mason answered confidently, “I am sending you the copy now, sir.”

  “You seem very comfortable talking with him, Captain Mason. Why is that?” Admiral Wilson asked accusingly.

  “The Yellow Man appeared on our bridge screens several times during my tour on the Hesperia, Admiral Wilson. He has even intruded on our vid screen directly in our home. He appears whenever and wherever he wishes, with impunity. And without invitation, Admiral Wilson.” Mason tried not to show how offended he was at his accusing question.

  “My late husband Admiral Baines credited Captain Mason with the correct identification of Dr. James as the Yellow Man. He said the Yellow Man preferred talking with Captain Mason because he was more intuitive; more perceptive. He is their Perfect Man,” Admiral Mason said, in defense of her husband.

  “A warrior should know his enemy. It is the art of war. Captain Mason is one of our greatest warriors, gentlemen,” Captain Hanson offered quietly. She picked up the translator with her napkin, and put it on her lap. Silence reigned for several minutes.

  “My coffee has become cold. I suggest we continue our meeting at 0-eight hundred hours in your conference room, Captain Hanson,” Admiral Worthington said.

  “Captain Mason, if I may utilize your shuttle, you may enjoy this evening with your family,” Captain Hanson offered at the valet area. Mason handed her his keys, thanked her, and left with his Admiral.

  Mason was quiet on the way to their apartment. He must correctly read between the lines of their exchange with the Yellow Man. His wife and family were far too close to the Mars X base to make a mistake. He knew Sukesh wanted the DNA repository and records. He keyed in a second request for 50 more Space Marines and 20 additional Space Forces security personnel to guard the underground web of buildings and the Great Vault. He knew they would be needed.

  Admiral Mason piloted her shuttle to their apartment building. In the lift, she cautioned, “Admiral Wilson trusts you less now than before, John. Be very careful of him. He is very well connected and next in line after Admiral Worthington. Watch yourself, John.”

  “Do you think I did or said anything wrong, Rachel?” Mason asked.

  “No, I don’t. But you are at ease talking with the Yellow Man, and your conversation was open and frank. Admiral Wilson was afraid; you were not. I just think it would be prudent for you to be careful, that’s all.” She opened their door and went inside.

  Mason was dejected. Would he always have to prove his loyalty? Would he forever be assumed guilty until proven innocent? What did he have to do? This was not the URE way. But it was the Joint Chiefs’ way, he noted, especially Admiral Wilson’s way.

  Rachel paid the nurse baby sitter. The boys were fast asleep. Mason took off his jacket, tie, and tall boots, and went outside onto the terrace while Rachel showered. The night in Colony III was beautiful. The city lights at night sparkled and glistened. As beautiful as the city was, and as big and impressive as her apartment was, he wished their temporary duty would only last one year instead of two. He wanted to finish this assignment and go home. He didn’t want to continue being the Special Liaison for the Joint Chiefs, if and when Admiral Wilson took over for Admiral Worthington. Why work for a man who doesn’t trust you?

  They arrived at Mars X ahead of schedule the next morning, and went to Captain Hanson’s conference room for the meeting. Nothing
was brought up about the Yellow Man’s visit at this meeting, thankfully. Captain Hanson bore most of the “heavy lifting” today. She credited Mason’s dogged adherence to their schedules as the primary reason the dome was up and functioning ahead of schedule.

  Building the above ground structures was progressing on schedule, as well. Only the repair and rebuilding of the first landing site was significantly behind schedule, for humane reasons. Captain Hanson recommended, given newly-discovered “Outside interest” in the Great Vault Project, the researchers stay in their underground labs and offices, better sheltered in case of attack. It was an excellent recommendation, one she would be given much credit for making.

  Admiral Mason’s wrist comm link beeped, “Urgent—come immediately!” She excused herself, and First Sergeant DuMonde was sent to accompany her. Her researchers discovered another full panel of crystals directly behind the original wall of crystals.

  The morning meeting with the Joint Chiefs was in recess to give Admiral Mason and Captain Hanson time to assess the newest discovery of an entirely new, additional bank of crystals. Mason stayed behind with the Joint Chiefs, having sent his aide to record every step of the uncovering, and project it live to them.

  Admiral Wilson was still not sure about Mason. “Captain Mason, how did you know the conical instrument the Yellow Man gave was a translating device?”

  “Sir, the biggest roadblock faced by the researchers on the Great Vault Project is that none of the writings can be read and understood, Admiral Wilson. We haven’t been able to play, download, or access the information on any of the so-called ‘knowledge crystals,’ other than those which play by themselves, the two large black crystals. We don’t know how to translate their information, either. What better carrot to dangle in front of us to share the information with the ONE, than a device for translation? Once again, Dr. James is tempting us with something we don’t have, and need, to get what he wants. Remember, sir, it is also a transmitter. Anything we play, he will know. It just made sense, Admiral Wilson,” Mason responded.

  “Your intuition is still formidable, Captain Mason. The late Admiral Tomiko said you were nearly psychic, I recall,” Admiral Worthington said to him.

  “I’m definitely not psychic, Admiral; but I will admit my new implants have improved my intuitive abilities. My forensic studies, too, help me read between the lines. I’m attempting to do that with the Yellow Man’s message to us last night,” Mason explained.

  “What do you mean, Mason?” His Commandant asked.

  “I specifically asked him about Sukesh, sir. Remember, when he appeared uninvited on my home vid screen, he was apologetic for the damage inflicted upon me. We now know Sukesh is still receiving orders from Dr. James, and support from the ONE to carry out those orders. They need his Space Forces officers’ training and equipment knowledge, his technological expertise and tactical prowess to overcome our defenses. The ONE appear willing to tolerate his own agenda—his personal vendetta against Earth Command—in order to get their orders executed, Commandant. I fear Sukesh is close to carrying out another attack against us. I requested 50 more Space Marines and 20 more Space Forces security personnel to protect the Great Vault Project, Commandant.” Mason was quiet.

  “Do you think he has the ability to attack this installation successfully?” Wilson asked.

  Mason answered calmly, “Admiral, all I know is the ONE use whatever resources they find locally available to implement their wishes. They have Sukesh; he is experienced with our technology, our craft, and our methods. He will use our own ships and fighters against us. If he attacks, it will come from within, and without.”

  “Within and without? Do you think he has planted saboteurs in this installation? We sent you to interview everyone to weed them out, Mason,” the Commandant asked urgently.

  “I have interviewed everyone at this installation, Commandant, as my reports show. Only the Great Vault research scientists were exempted; why, I do not know,” Mason defended. “They have been here less than two weeks.”

  The vid screen activated just then. “Captain Hanson reporting, Admirals, General, and Commandant. We are sending you live feed from the Great Vault chamber, where an entirely separate bank of crystals has been discovered, directly behind the initial rows of crystals. Our scanners reveal there may be another row or more behind that, sirs. We cannot tell how far or how deep the rows of crystals go. It is very exciting!” The vid screen showed the wall full of crystals stacked in an orderly fashion, row upon row of colored crystals. The amazing, new discovery was it was not a real wall; rather, a massive shelf, which moved forward to reveal another shelf. The scanners showed several shelves, but could not penetrate deep enough to count how many.

  “They are library stacks!” Admiral Mason suddenly exclaimed, “Thousands of crystals, in different colors. Most are the same shape and size.”

  The meeting adjourned for lunch. Mason went to his quarters to be alone with his thoughts, and away from Admiral Wilson. He gave his best shot trying to shore up their defenses, and the matter was now out of his hands. The base was vulnerable against an attack, he knew. He returned to the meeting.

  “Captain Mason, we’ve authorized your request for an additional 50 Space Marines and 20 Space Forces’ security personnel. We are also making available another dozen security droids for your use. Forward any armory requests to Colonel Tyrone by the end of this week,” the Commandant stated. “Anything else?”

  Mason enquired, “Do I have your authorization to interview the new research team, as I have done with all other personnel on this installation, Commandant?”

  “With the exception of Admiral Mason, yes, make it so, Captain.”

  “Why exempt Admiral Mason, if I may be so bold to ask? I went through his interview myself,” Captain Hanson asked.

  “She wrote the interview questions, in conjunction with our base psychiatrist. I’m certain she would pass, Captain,” Admiral Worthington revealed, smiling. “Now then. Let’s discuss an interesting development. It seems several of the High Council members have been in meetings on Mars Colony III this week. They are most intrigued by our after-dinner guest’s appearance and subsequent offer. Three High Councilmen will remain for two days and meet with us regarding this matter, and also see the Great Vault Project for themselves. Captain Mason, I trust you can impress us two nights in a row with your menu and sommelier skills,” Worthington stated.

  “It will be my pleasure, Admiral Worthington,” Mason said, making notes on his com tablet. “Class A’s or mess dress, Admiral?” The Joint Chiefs looked at each other and found out they did indeed have their mess dress uniforms with them.

  “Since we’ve all managed to be prepared, let’s go mess dress. Good suggestion, Captain Mason,” Admiral Worthington said. The meeting was happily shortened due to their having to dress in formal uniforms, their mess dress, and the Joint Chiefs returned to their hotel.

  The High Council was the ruling body of the United Republics of Earth (URE). Their numbers totaled eleven. They met in secret most of the time, never disclosing their whereabouts, and never more than five members at any one location at a time. Neither Mason nor Admiral Mason had ever seen a High Councilman, let alone met and dined with one. Tonight, they would meet three of them, including the Chief High Councilwoman. They and Captain Hanson were a little anxious about their new guests, and met in Mason’s quarters for a drink.

  “Mason, you’d sure as hell better escort me tonight; no offense to you, Rachel. I don’t want to trip and fall on my ass in those heels. Stop grinning or I’ll have you stand guard duty!” Captain Hanson said, taking a stiff belt of Mason’s bourbon. “Dammit!”

  “I’m certain you’ll be confident and poised, Captain Hanson. Just like the last time I saw you in your mess dress, on the Esmeralda,” Mason offered, trying to placate her.

  “That’s because you escorted me into the room, planted me, and I never moved until you escorted me out. And I was three sheets to the wind,” sh
e admitted. “Damn your hide!”

  Admiral Mason burst out laughing at her last remark. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Esther.”

  “I will have an arm for each of you. My Captain, and my Admiral,” Mason assured. Captain Hanson went next door to her quarters, and Admiral Mason left for her shuttle.

  He showered, and carefully shaved. He dressed in his mess dress, and polished his tall black boots once more. Captain Hanson had never seen him in his officer’s mess dress; the last time she saw him in mess dress he was her Prime Marine on the Esmeralda, and was a Master Gunnery Sergeant. His officer’s uniform was much more ornate. It was a crimson red cutaway coat with tails, trimmed in gold, with a gold sash over his right shoulder, tied just below his coat. The uniform was made to impress, and Mason was its perfect model. He wore his full medals, not the ribboned bars like on his class A’s. He put his Silver Star on its ribbon around his neck, followed by the URE Medal of Honor. He donned his hat and gloves, and affixed his distinctive sword onto his belt. He was ready.

  Captain Hanson had fixed her hair very nicely, soft and feminine, instead of slicked back. She wore just the right amount of make-up, and her nails were perfect. What a change!

  “You are absolutely beautiful, Captain Hanson,” Mason said honestly, smiling at her. The sleeves of her white jacket were trimmed in gold braids, and she wore the shoulder boards of a Ship’s Captain. Her chest full of medals were ribboned, like Mason’s; a true warrior woman. She was powerful and beautiful, a lethal combination.

  “None of us will look half as good as you do, John. That uniform was made for you,” she said, smiling at him, and raising her eyebrow. What a handsome man, she thought, as he slowly walked her down the corridor. Rachel is so damned lucky.

  Mason arrived with Captain Hanson first. He escorted her through the lobby, and all heads turned to admire her. He walked her slowly and easily, giving her more confidence. He led her to their private dining room, where she made sure everything was perfect. First Sergeant DuMonde was already there, chewing out the waiter in French about water spots on the serving ware, and she snapped to attention when they walked into the room.