Cygnus Rising: Humanity Returns to Space (Cygnus Space Opera Book 1)

by Craig Martelle

  He shook off that concern. Save the ship first. Then they could take care of everything else.

  When the crewman entered engineering, he found Briz fully embroiled in his keyboard and monitors. He pecked furiously to input long strings of commands.

  “What are you working on, Briz? We need your help!” the young man pleaded.

  The Rabbit didn’t respond as he kept poking away, The man waited, impatiently. He had finally decided to grab the Rabbit to get his attention when Briz hit the enter key one last time and jumped up, startling his crewmate.

  “Damn, Briz!” The man jumped back out of the Rabbit’s way.

  “Oh! I didn’t see you come in. Wait a minute. I have to check two things and then we can do this.” Briz disappeared into his own mind as he linked with the systems through his neural implant. He found the crew stationed around the closed hatches but outside the ISE. The two intruders were inside. “Perfect.”

  Briz pressed enter, setting off alarms and making the red warning lights flash as the ISE was flooded with argon gas like the engine room was on fire. Briz bounced up and down on his big back feet as his eyes stayed unfocused. He accessed the ship-wide communication system and spoke clearly. “All intruders have been eliminated. The ship is ours,” Briz said proudly.

  Hide

  Cain, Pickles, and Lutheann met up with the others without further incident. The ‘cats couldn’t sense another human near them as they struggled upward, climbing past the hills and into the mountains.

  “They must have abandoned the chase,” Cain suggested as they huddled among rocks that blocked the ever-growing wind that grew colder with each step they took. It felt like winter was coming. And they hadn’t eaten since they landed, not a real meal anyway.

  The ‘cats told them that as they climbed, they got farther and farther from game. If they wanted to catch and eat something, they needed to go downhill, back toward the area where the Concordians might be.

  “We have to eat,” Master Daksha said softly. “But not today. We still have what we brought. Eat your rations and tomorrow, we’ll go where we have to go. Maybe even get a look at the shuttle, see if it is still intact,” he added hopefully.

  They settled in, knowing that they couldn’t make a fire. With night, the cold came. And snow.

  They shivered, huddling together for warmth. Master Daksha hovered above them to keep some of the snow off, but he was a creature of the desert and must have been miserable, but he didn’t complain. The Lizard Man’s skin suit started to freeze, but Stinky, Cain, and Ellie came to his rescue, keeping him between them, the Wolfoid’s fur helping all of them to stay warm. Lutheann and Carnesto crawled into the pile, adding their own warmth to the rest. It may have looked absurd, but there was no alternative.

  The Hawkoid perched on a branch watching over them, feeling the cold but not letting it bother him. Pace sat up, catnapping at times, but keeping watch, even though Cain and Ellie assured him that the ‘cats would warn them if anyone approached.

  The night passed fitfully and with the morning came the hunger. They needed the energy that food would provide. They needed water and better shelter. The group needed all the things that they had on their spaceship in orbit above the planet.

  The first day and night of their time on Concordia had come and gone, and they were no closer to being rescued. As if walking to their doom, they started downhill. At least the walking would be much easier, given they were in no shape to continue climbing.

  The ‘cats were excited to hunt the game of this planet. Lutheann had two kills to her credit while Carnesto had none. He’d made it his mission to kill the wildlife that would feed the crew. He wondered if they could choke it down raw, but that wasn’t his concern.

  The Concordian flying machines took to the air just after daybreak. The crew of the Cygnus-12 heard them first, then looked for them above the sparse trees at their altitude. The machines lifted off, spreading out as they climbed and slowly flew from the valley and over the forest, heading in the general direction of the landing party.

  “We need to hide until they pass,” Pace ordered. They ran back up the hill, keeping trees between them and the Concordians. They tucked into gaps between the rocks and hunkered down, pulling branches and bushes over themselves while their footprints remained clear in the light snow. Stinky tried to brush over some with his tail, but that only made the trail larger. They hoped that they were beyond the reach of the men in the flying machines and that they couldn’t get close enough to see the tracks.

  Hope was a lousy plan. They all knew the old saying and it seemed to apply here. But it was the best they had.

  The flying machines started crisscrossing the skies over the forest, then they headed upward, continuing to climb.

  “We may have misjudged them,” Pace whispered to Master Daksha, as the Tortoid hovered over the human’s head, providing concealment that blended with the rocks. With the sound of the engines, Daksha didn’t know why Pace whispered, but he sympathized. They didn’t want to be caught by these men.

  “We came in peace,” the Tortoid said for the fiftieth time, still not believing the hostility of the people they found on Concordia. “Why would they do this?” he asked again.

  “I don’t want to say that we’re more enlightened, but I have to. We are open to people being different, to feeling equal with all intelligent creatures. We would never assume that someone we just met is hostile. We trust people when they tell us something. We trust them until they demonstrate that we shouldn’t. We were already committed on the way down when we learned that hard truth. Next time, we won’t make that mistake, which is horrible, because it means that we won’t trust someone until they show us that they can be trusted. We’ll have to be afraid.” Pace sighed as he spoke.

  “We won’t be afraid. We’ll be cautious. I think that’s a big difference. And I think we’ll have to arm our ships, which is tragic. We’re explorers, but we can’t explore if we’re running for our lives. I would love to spend more time talking with that fellow from Fairsky. He seemed reasonable, understanding, indifferent to the fact that I am a Tortoid. There are good people, but they aren’t in charge. Isn’t that what history has taught us? Remember Governor Anderle and his hostile takeover of Warren Deep? One more example of Braden and Micah saving us from ourselves, so we could become the people and civilization we are today.” The commander’s thoughts drifted toward the pride he felt in what they’d accomplished on Vii in the past century, how they’d kept their focus on the bigger goal of a society where people could live free.

  Remembering the fear in the eyes of the villagers was enough for Daksha. He started to get angry. Pace could feel the heat surge within the Tortoid, whether it was just in his mind or his body was actually heating up, the senior lieutenant couldn’t tell.

  The Concordian machines continued climbing and flying deeper over the woods, spreading out and putting more distance between them as they tried to cover more ground. They flew slowly as they searched for the commander and his crew.

  They waited, in place, under cover, unmoving, watching, and listening. The machines climbed higher and higher. One flew directly over them, then circled. They looked through small telescopes out both sides of their flying machine. One man started pointing.

  Daksha had had enough. He turned, looked upward, and conjured up from deep within the focused thunderclap, delivering a sonic blast into the flying machine. The engine blew apart, raining pieces over the area as the machine canted sideways out of control and crashed through the trees. A thin trail of smoke showed where the flying machine had gone down.

  “Maybe we will take the fight to them,” Master Daksha announced to the group. They pulled their blasters and waited. Two more flying machines were headed their way. The crew moved to better positions, with less tree cover to block their aim. With a nod from the commander, Leaper bolted downhill toward the crash site. He had a blaster with him, but was counting on speed to get him in and out. They wanted to ve
rify that the men weren’t coming after them. Carnesto raced past the Wolfoid, running free. He was fed up with hiding.

  Another flying machine came close and the men inside fired sporadically into the trees and rocks, trying to flush their prey. But their prey had different ideas. A volley of blaster fire licked upward, tearing into the flying machine. The explosion was spectacular, sending flaming debris far and wide.

  A third machine attempted to approach from the side, but Master Daksha worked up another sonic blast. The engine coughed, choked, and died. The machine was close and they watched the pilot fight valiantly with the controls as the machine slid past them, crashing into the rocks beyond and exploding on impact. Cain and Ellie ran to avoid the fire, skipping past the other debris and heading toward the flying machine that had crashed without exploding. Pace grabbed the commander and joined the downhill race. Pickles ambled after them while Chirit flew slowly, just above the tree tops where he could see the area. The other flying machines were retreating back toward the valley.

  ‘I think the bloody nose we just gave them will hold them off. Well done, Commander!’ Chirit called over their mindlink, having heard about a Tortoid’s ability but had not seen it before.

  Daksha’s neural implant started flashing with a message from the ship. He opened it to see Jolly’s smiling face. ‘It is so good to see that you are well, Commander! The ship is now preparing to move to the designated rendezvous. I’ve been in touch with your shuttle and see that it will be more than two days before you have enough fuel to lift off. Will you be okay until then?’ Daksha could not have been more relieved.

  Jolly’s Return

  “Jolly! Where have you been?” Briz asked out loud, angry with the AI for his untimely disappearance.

  “Ensign Brisbois, please accept my apologies, but I could not interfere. So many of the crew, starting with the captain, asked me to harm other human beings. That goes against my basic programming of ‘do no harm.’ I couldn’t allow the humans to be hurt, even if they were our enemy, and once they started killing our people, my programming could not reconcile itself with the situation. Kill or be killed. It’s them or us. All this came to mind, but the failsafe programming installed by President Micah all those years ago is still in place. By shutting down, I did not interfere with your attempts to retake control of the ship. It was the only option my programming allowed that gave us a chance to win this battle. I am sorry, but the failsafe programming is non-negotiable.”

  “I understand,” Briz replied. “And thank you for the explanation. We will treat you better in the future. Can you contact the commander, please, and then, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  After confirming that the commander and the shuttle’s crew were alive, but running away from a determined enemy, Lieutenant Commander Garinst ordered the second shuttle to prepare for launch. But that didn’t change the problem of having enough fuel for a return trip.

  “We need to install tanks that we can use to refuel the shuttle. Then we jettison the tanks, the crew boards, and they leave. The shuttle will be on the ground less than an hour.”

  The maintenance crew, under Garinst’s watchful eye, installed multiple pressure tanks, tying them together and clearly labeling one ‘Oxygen’ and the other ‘Hydrogen.’ They carefully filled each tank.

  Others put rations and many of the blasters they’d taken from the Concordians into the ship. Although the crew on board the Cygnus-12 did well hiding, the intruders had still killed seven of them. No one wanted to lose any more people. If extra weapons were needed, then they’d be on the shuttle. A maintenance bot was there, too, with the exact tools it needed to disassemble and remove the temporary fuel tanks from within. If they had to leave it behind, they would. They could replicate another bot if need be, but they had no way of replacing the crew.

  Or so they thought.

  Jolly informed Master Daksha of the plan and between the two of them, determined a landing spot. The commander and his crew needed to clear brush and trees from the area before the shuttle arrived. If anything happened to the second shuttle, they’d be forced to fight the Concordians for control of the shuttle in the valley. They weren’t opposed to that, but their chances of success dropped with each new engagement. Daksha cautioned against revenge and made the final approval for the shuttle launch from the Cygnus-12. The captain could have approved the launch, but he was still incapacitated in the med lab.

  Briz watched the shuttle go and set his implant for constant monitoring. He walked quickly through the corridors and down the stairs to the airlock while the other crew members gathered the dead, staging them in the outermost ring where the cryogenic storage units were located, so they could be stored for return to Vii where they could be honored in appropriate ceremonies. The intruders were jettisoned into space.

  The Concordian shuttle remained attached to the airlock and Briz rushed to look it over, hoping to learn something new. What he found when he entered was thousand-year old technology. On closer inspection, Briz suspected that the shuttle itself could have been that old. He had no idea how it could still be flying. The pilot seemed to expertly bring it into the airlock. Then again, as he looked at it, he thought there would be more.

  ‘Jolly,’ he asked using his neural implant. ‘Can you please try to link up with this ship? I believe it’s under AI control, whether from the planet or on board, I’m not sure. I think it may be your AI uncle.’ Briz laughed at his own joke, although he wasn’t kidding.

  ‘Set up a partition with firewall to ensure that if you do get in touch, it doesn’t back-breach into you. We need you, Jolly, and missed you when you were gone,’ Briz added.

  ‘I thank you, kind sir!’ Jolly answered emphatically. ‘Attempting contact now through primary systems.’ There was a long pause.

  ‘Secondary systems,’ Jolly said mechanically, focusing on the task at hand.

  Briz sat in the pilot’s seat, which was far too big for him. His big feet dangled just below the cushioned acceleration chair. His small, round tail was wedged against something as his upper body was almost completely enveloped by the chair’s soft back. Lights started flashing on the dash and the ship came to life. Briz bolted upright, getting his feet under him as he jumped toward the airlock. He crashed into the overhead and fell to the deck. Scrambling toward the open hatch, he was expecting it to close when Jolly’s voice sounded through a hidden speaker somewhere within.

  “Ensign Brisbois, are you there? Testing, one, two, three, testing. Ensign Brisbois?”

  “I’m here. You could have warned me!” Briz tried to yell, but his vocalization device interpreted the sounds flatly.

  “My apologies. I’d like to introduce you to Graham, the AI on Concordia. We’ve had a nice chat and I believe that he is the friend we need to help us get our people off the planet safely and that includes recovering our second shuttle!” Jolly sounded joyously triumphant and it made Briz smile, his nose twitching almost uncontrollably with happiness while his ears flicked back and forth.

  “Good morning, Ensign Brisbois. My name is Graham and I live in Concord, on the planet Concordia. I am pleased to meet you,” a pleasant voice clearly stated, not carrying the accent that they’d heard from the humans on the video.

  “Call me Briz. Jolly said you might be able to help us get our people back. How could you do that and maybe more importantly, why?” Briz asked abruptly, used to dealing with computers where straightforward questions weren’t rude, just efficient.

  “Jolly has been so kind to share his failsafe programming with me. I am ashamed to say that the people in charge on Concordia have drifted and given in to power and control over free trade and service. They don’t know selflessness like your people do. We have no way to administer a pure-heart test, but that sounds like something we could use,” the AI said, sadness carrying every word through the speakers to Briz’s ears.

  He felt sorry for the AI, trapped in such an environment. The people on Concordia must not have understood G
raham and the pain he suffered because of their actions. AIs didn’t always understand emotions, but when they did, it was as intense for them as any intelligent creature.

  “I will simply insert a bug into the flight control software and they won’t be able to fly their helicopters. Your friends are too far away for any other interdiction efforts. By the way, nineteen men have been killed on the planet and Jolly tells me forty more have been killed in space in the Concordian efforts to capture your ship and its crew. The Concordians are in disarray as they haven’t had anyone stand up to them in their lifetimes.”

  Graham shared the schematics for the helicopter and other relevant historical data, including organization and structure of the bureaucracy that led the people.

  “How could such a technologically backward society build and fly helicopters?” Briz asked, surprised at the dichotomy of a seemingly feudal society capable of flying helicopters and spaceships.

  “I fly the spaceships. They cannot. And the helicopters are produced in the last remaining industrial fabricator. They are delivered and they are all the same. The pilots learn in a simulator that the fabricator produced centuries ago and if they are deemed to be good enough, they get to fly the real thing. It’s as simple as that. But the fabricator is wearing out. I expect within the year, we will no longer have it. If it weren’t for a combination of geothermal and solar power, I would no longer exist either. The power hungry have weeded out the intelligent from our society. The people are no longer capable of understanding what it would take to repair these systems, let alone build new ones. I fear that my society is doomed, and I let it get to this point.”