Lokians 1: Beyond the End of the World

by Aaron Dennis

  The captain looked at Lay. The shadow caused by his hat’s visor hid his eyes. O’Hara chewed his lip; he still felt discombobulated, but he hoped the admiral had some information.

  “Morning, Admiral,” O’Hara said and saluted.

  He didn’t return the salute. Instead, he removed his hat and tucked it in his armpit, shaking his head. O’Hara lowered his arm. Korit looked them over, thanked them, and walked off, leaving the Human stunned.

  “We have a problem, son,” Lay said, gravely.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled. “What could it possibly be?”

  “News of our break in the social order reached Earth HQ,” Lay replied.

  Social order, O’Hara wondered. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Someone leaked Intel to Earth about meeting and working with Thewls.”

  “Only the colonists knew, and your men...how and why would they have contact with Earth?”

  “That’s a good question. Unfortunately, we’re being shut down,” he huffed. “You’re a God damned hero, but you’ll be returning to the Phoenix. Our lovely leader wants you to return the colonists to their former homes.”

  Such a welling of hate and anger flooded O’Hara’s body. He was crushed, enraged, confused. Questions poured out of him.

  “What leader? What are you talk about, Admiral? What the Hell is going on, here?”

  Lay took a long inhalation, cocking his head to the side. He looked the captain up and down. For a moment, he played with his teeth.

  “Listen, son. I don’t like it any more than you do. Fact is, I’m being forced into retirement because of this. You saved all life in the galaxy, maybe the universe, but the President wants his way. He’s got all the governments united against us. Horizon colony is officially shut down.”

  “I’m, I’m…at a loss,” he said, shaking his head. “Retirement? Why does the President want to shut us down? What about my crew?”

  “I won’t lie to you,” Lay answered. “We’re lucky they don’t have us Court-Martialed. As far as the President…that’s a sketchy story. You ought to be leery of the grandson of a man who had some serious pull; some kind of ties with a grove club or something; doesn’t matter, now.

  “At any rate, you can keep your helmsman, but your crew is being reassigned, and the Thewls are going home. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  Admiral John Lay finally saluted, stuck his hat back on his head, turned about face, and marched out of sight. The captain reeled. He had received a direct blow to everything he stood for, everything he had been taught, and everything he believed.

  “Sir?” he called. “Sir? You’re just going to walk away like that?”

  The captain ran barefoot for a moment. He then realized he was wearing some white spandex, but nothing else. A brisk wind bit his wounds.

  “Hey,” Adams and Franklin said.

  He turned to gawk at them. Adams’s face was bandaged, and he was missing an arm. Franklin was limping, but otherwise fine. Involuntarily, he shrugged.

  “Yes, Sir. We’re aware of the developments,” Adams said.

  “I-I lost everything. I lost the admiral. I lost my crew. I don’t know what to do.”

  O’Hara was shaking with contained rage.

  “Well…there is one course of action,” Adams said to Franklin.

  “I think it’s the only one they left him,” Franklin nodded, knowingly.

  Smiles played on their lips. The captain was in no mood for their weird antics. He told them to speak up.

  “Experience with The Bureau has taught me one thing,” Franklin said. “There are always other ways to achieve results.”

  “We’re heading back to Earth for now. From what I’ve seen, you’re more than capable. Come back with us. We can use you at The Bureau,” Adams said while tugging at an empty, pinstriped sleeve.

  O’Hara took a long inhalation. He looked off; the dim light of Eon illuminated numerous buildings on what was left of Horizon. What had previously looked lifeless, dead, abandoned, was somehow teaming with hope.

  For a moment, he thought about Day, his crew, the Navy. It was all so distant, so disconnected. Then, a pause in time allowed him to see how joining The Bureau provided him the perks of going AWOL discretely. The war wasn’t over, things played out in a specific fashion; he was joining The Bureau because he had work to do, something only he was able to accomplish, whatever it was that lurked behind darkened recesses.

  He didn’t even feel his steps or the cold dirt beneath his feet as he followed the agents to another hangar. Franklin produced a key card from his jacket’s interior pocket. From O’Hara’s perspective, the two agents looked like their former, mysterious selves. The personnel door beeped after the card slid.

  Franklin held the door open. Inside, there was a small, elliptical craft. The Element-115 exterior sparkled. He was thoroughly impressed by The Bureau’s resources. The three men made their way to the front of the ship, which was resting on a tall lip of sorts. Judging its balance, O’Hara didn’t understand how it didn’t tip backwards. Nevertheless, behind the lip was the airlock.

  Franklin peered into a retinal scanner, and the lock slid open. He motioned for them to enter. Marching up carpeted steps into a dim ambiance was a drastic change, but the three men proceeded to the bridge. O’Hara looked around in amazement; the ship was not of Human origins.

  “Relax, Captain. We’ll be back on Earth in no time,” Adams said, smiled, and then touched his bandages.

  “He’s never been to Earth, remember?” Franklin added.

  Adams stifled a chuckle while gauging O’Hara’s reaction. The former captain had never seen the agents so thoroughly relaxed; they weren’t just relaxing, they were completely enjoying the situation.

  “How long to Earth,” O’Hara asked.

  “Oh…about seven months, Captain. We’ll make a few stops along the way. We need to meet with our contacts,” Adams began.

  “Yes. Quite a few, actually; lots of debriefing, you know,” Franklin added.

  O’Hara nodded, saying, “Okay, so fill me in, and drop this Captain crap. I’m Riley.”