by Peter Ward
“Bring us around to bearing 8-7-4 mark 2-1-5,” the captain barked, snapping Geoff back into reality. “We’ll take on the nearest wave!”
Geoff grabbed hold of his chair as the ship lurched over to face a tight cluster of flying saucers, which were somehow managing to keep to a perfect formation around a capital ship as it swung around with incredible maneuverability to take on the Concordia.
“Fire!” the captain said.
The bridge vibrated as the Concordia unleashed a thick barrage of laser fire, which obliterated over half of the oncoming wave of flying saucers. The aliens quickly spaced their remaining ships equally around the central craft and fired back. A few of the lasers struck the nose of the Concordia, but the damage inflicted didn’t seem to be anything worth losing sleep over.
“They’re making a second pass across the port bow!” the captain cried out. “Aim all turrets directly ahead of their flight path and wait for my mark!”
The captain watched closely as the flying saucers flew back into view.
“Now!” he said.
The bridge vibrated again as the Concordia unleashed a second scatter of laser fire. Impressively, the captain scored another direct hit, taking out another five or six ships with one well-directed shot.
The remaining few ships in the protective formation began to spin around the capital ship, acting as a moving barrier to prevent a clear shot from getting through.
“I’m fed up of this,” the captain said, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s see if we can’t take down the main ship. Aim for the weaker external ships and hit them so they take out the middle one.”
“I like it,” Geoff whispered to Tim. “He’s going for a weak spot …”
“A weak spot?” Tim replied.
“Yeah, you know—like in a computer game …”
“Transfer all energy from the rear shields into the weapons systems,” the captain said, his eyes completely focussed on the giant screen in front of him. “Let’s see if we can take out the rest of this wave with an extra-powerful blast.”
“Brilliant!” Geoff said. “He’s adjusting the power ratios just like you have to do in X-Wing!”
“Rear shields powering down,” an officer said, looking up from his terminal at the captain. “Weapons now operating at 150 percent strength.”
“Let them have it,” the captain ordered.
The bridge shook violently as the Concordia fired a painfully bright shower of laser beams at the weakened formation. Upon impact, the few remaining escort ships careened uncontrollably into the capital ship, rupturing its hull and causing it to blow up in a spectacular flash of light, the shockwave from the explosion rocking the bridge as it passed through the Concordia.
“Yes!” the captain shouted, shaking his fist. “Well done, everyone!”
Geoff stared through the main window in wonderment as the battle continued to rage on in front of them. Capital ships were darting in and out of view pursued by smaller fighter craft, laser beams were streaming relentlessly across the stars, and colossal explosions continuously lit up the blackness of space, throwing a shower of flaming debris in every direction. It was like watching the most amazing firework display imaginable, except there was no one around selling those ridiculously expensive glow sticks that fizzle out after ten minutes.
“Give me an update, Mai,” the captain said, sitting down in his chair and wiping his brow. “How are we doing?”
“We’re doing well, captain,” Mai said, her voice still sounding calm and understated over the loudspeaker. “According to my calculations, we’ve already destroyed over a quarter of the alien fleet.”
“What about losses on our side?”
“Minimal,” Mai replied. “We’ve only lost the Intrepid, the Lancer, and the Tesla. All … other … shipppssss …. arrrrrrreeee fully func-func … function …. Function …..”
“Functional?” Geoff said, getting impatient.
“Quiet,” Tim whispered.
The lights on the bridge flickered momentarily.
“Mai?” the captain said hesitantly.
“Func … func … func ……. Func ……………….” Mai stammered, her voice slowing down to deep, synthesized drawl.
The loudspeaker went dead.
“Mai?!” the captain shouted. “Mai, can you hear me? Please respond!”
“Should we call the concierge?” Geoff said.
Before Tim had the chance to explain this problem might be beyond the remit of someone employed to take your coat when you come on board and let you know where the washrooms are, the bridge was rocked by an almighty explosion from directly ahead, the blast obscuring the main window in a brilliant flash of light. Geoff was expecting a very loud noise to accompany this spectacle, but because they were in space, it was totally silent. Everyone shielded their eyes as the light faded to reveal the charred remnants of a battle cruiser drifting lifelessly across the battlefield.
“Report,” the captain said. “Was that one of ours?”
“Afraid so,” an officer said, checking a few details on his screen. “The Galileo, sir. Must have been shot down.”
“No, no. I recognize that explosion,” the captain said. “Did you see? It came from inside. That ship wasn’t shot down. It self-destructed.”
Geoff stood up from his seat and took a few steps forward.
“Erm … was that meant to happen?” he whispered to Tim.
“I don’t think so, no …” Tim replied.
All of a sudden, another ship exploded in the same way, the silence of the blast belying the scale of destruction.
“That was the Slipstream, sir,” the officer said, his voice weakening. “Looks like you were right—there were no enemy ships nearby when it exploded. It must have self-destructed.”
“What’s going on?” the captain said, watching as another ship blew itself up of its own accord in the distance. “Why are all our ships destroying themselves?”
“They’re not just blowing themselves up, sir,” the radar officer said, pointing off the starboard bow. “Look!”
Everyone watched in horror as two battle cruisers seemed to deliberately crash into each other, the impact splitting both spaceships in two, right along the join between the sleek metallic shell on top and the black, angular hull underneath.
“Wait a minute,” the captain said, running over to an officer sitting at the back of the bridge. “Were those ships being controlled by Mai?”
“Yes, sir,” the officer said, frantically typing something into his terminal.
“What about the Galileo and the Slipstream?”
“Those too,” the officer said. “She has control of 90 percent of the fleet!”
“Shit,” the captain said, watching in desperation as a group of fighter craft began to open fire on each other. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit …”
Unfortunately, the aliens seemed to be cottoning on to the fact that something wasn’t quite the ticket with their opponents and decided that now was probably a good time to step up their attacks on the confused fleet.
“I know this sounds impossible, sir,” the officer said, still hammering away at his keyboard, “but could Mai have malfunctioned?”
“Mai doesn’t malfunction,” the captain said, running over to consult another terminal. “The only way something like this could happen was if someone went down to the remote operations deck and …”
He stopped still.
“Is anyone missing?” he said
Geoff looked around the bridge.
“Erm … I think we do appear to be missing somebody, as it happens,” he said, his voice trembling.
“Who?” the captain said.
“Tringrall,” Geoff replied.
Twenty-Four
“How could we have let this happen?” the captain snapped as they rode the lift down to the remote operations deck, accompanied by a large contingent of armed security guards. “If you all
thought one of you might have been this ‘Tringrall’ character, why didn’t you say anything? Why weren’t you keeping an eye on each other when you were on the bridge?”
“I got distracted,” Geoff shrugged. “There were lots of big explosions outside.”
“Well, now there’s even more big explosions outside!” the captain barked, grabbing a spare rifle from one of the guards and snapping a clip of ammunition into it. “If we don’t stop this ‘Tringrall’ and undo whatever damage he’s done to Mai, the whole fleet will be destroyed!”
“I have a small confession to make,” Geoff said, turning to the Defence Minister. “I thought it was you. I thought you were Tringrall.”
“Me?” the Defence Minister said. “Why did you think it was me?”
“Just a hunch,” Geoff said. “Plus—there were those suspicious papers in your office.”
“Suspicious papers?” the Defence Minister said. “What suspicious papers?”
“The ones you burned in your fireplace.”
“That was a shopping list!”
“Oh.”
“You thought I was an alien because I’d burned a shopping list?”
“I didn’t know it was a shopping list!” Geoff said. “I thought it might have been orders from another Varsarian or something, you know? If it was a shopping list, why didn’t you tear it up and throw it in the bin like a normal person?”
“I have a confession to make as well,” Tim said, giving Ruth a sorrowful look. “I thought it was you. I thought you were Tringrall.”
“Me?” Ruth said. “You thought I was Tringrall?”
Tim nodded.
“Why? What did I do?”
“Think about it—everything points towards you.”
“It does?”
“This has been something that has been planned from the start, correct?” Tim said. “And you were the one who thought up the whole Time Rep scheme in the first place weren’t you?”
“So what?” Ruth said, steadying herself as the lift lurched to the right.
“For a while,” Tim continued, “I thought that maybe your idea of recruiting people from different time periods had nothing to do with time tourism at all. I thought you might have devised it as some sort of elaborate means of getting to Geoff. But since we now know that Mr. Knight is really the alien impostor, I guess I was mistaken.”
Ruth said nothing—in fact, she was beginning to look a little pale.
“You all right?” Tim said, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“It wasn’t my idea,” Ruth said quietly.
“What?”
“The Time Rep scheme—it wasn’t my idea,” she repeated. “It was … It was Mr. Knight’s.”
“But I thought …” Tim trailed off. “Didn’t the Time Rep scheme get you on the board?”
“It did, but it was Mr. Knight’s idea all the same,” Ruth said, stroking her hair, “He came up with it one night when we were both working late. Told me I could take the credit.”
“Wait a minute,” Geoff said, feeling his stomach go funny as the lift changed direction again. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
“It does,” Tim said. “It means that the whole point of the Time Rep scheme was nothing more than a deception from day one. It was never devised with the intention of improving the time-tourism industry—Mr. Knight thought it up purely as an elaborate way of getting to you. ”
Geoff didn’t know whether to feel horrified or flattered. He opted for a combination of both, which made him look a bit confused.
“And if Ruth hadn’t stolen the idea,” Tim added, “we might have been able to make the connection to Mr. Knight sooner.”
“Hey! I did not ‘steal’ the idea!” Ruth protested. “I tried to convince him to take the credit, but he insisted! He said he had nothing to gain, that I deserved a reward for all the hard work I’d put in over the years …”
“And you believed him?” Tim said.
“Of course I did!” Ruth replied. “Who would have thought he was a fucking Varsarian, for Christ’s sake!”
“But when Geoff was attacked, why didn’t you say anything? Didn’t you see the connection? He let you take the credit for the Time Rep idea because he didn’t want anyone to link it back to him when he started to abuse it!”
“I didn’t mention it because … because …”
“Because what?”
“I can’t say. But trust me—I just … couldn’t mention it.”
“Did Mr. Knight … threaten you?”
“No, no … nothing like that. It’s just—there was too much at stake.”
“You don’t mean … your career? You kept this a secret to protect your career?”
Ruth paused a moment. She seemed to be thinking.
“That’s right,” she admitted eventually. “It was my career. I suppose … I’ve always been afraid of people finding out it wasn’t my idea. I’ve got too much to lose.”
“And I’m sure that’s the way Mr. Knight planned it,” Tim said. “With all the success you gained, he knew you’d keep your mouth shut.”
“So … does this mean Mr. Knight killed Eric?” Geoff said.
“So it would seem,” Ruth said, looking down at the floor. “That must be why he made me ask Eric to go to the lab before the party—when we were in the lift, remember? Mr. Knight must have been waiting for him there. He must have killed Eric, hidden the body behind the data banks, and run upstairs quickly to give his speech! No wonder he was so out of breath!”
“So all that stuff about asking us to find Eric must have been an act,” Geoff said. “He knew exactly where he was all along!”
“Certainly looks like it,” Tim said.
“And he must have been who we chased during the Great Fire of London! And the one who attacked me!” Geoff said, slowly joining the dots in his mind. “He’s the one who hypnotized me and broke my hand!”
“Yes,” Ruth said. “And that makes sense if you think about it—remember the night of the party, when you were looking for Tim? He was the one who told you that he’d gone down to Eric’s lab! That’s how he knew where you’d be, and that’s how he knew you’d be alone!”
“Mr. Knight told you I’d gone down to Eric’s lab?” Tim said, standing back in surprise.
“Yup,” Geoff replied.
“That lying bastard,” Tim said. “I told him I’d already checked the lab! I told him I was going to look elsewhere!”
“You’d already checked the lab?” Geoff said. “But … if that’s true, why didn’t you see Eric’s body?”
“I was in a hurry,” Tim said. “I just poked my head around the door and called out his name. There was no reply, so I moved on.”
Everyone lurched to the left as the lift changed direction again. Geoff couldn’t believe it—there were more twists and turns on the route down to the remote operations deck than there were in Mr. Knight’s plot.
“Right, we’re almost there,” the captain said, checking his rifle. “When the doors open, keep low, and watch your fire—we don’t want to damage Mai. I’m assuming this guy is armed and dangerous, so if you get a clear shot at the target, shoot to kill.”
“Wait,” Geoff said, putting his bandaged hand over the end of the captain’s rifle and pushing the barrel towards the floor. “Don’t kill him.”
“Don’t kill him?” the captain said. “Are you mad? This guy has already destroyed half the fleet! What do you want us to do—slap him on the wrist and tell him not to do it again?”
“I need to ask him a few questions.”
“Questions?!” the captain said. “This is no time for …”
“Important questions,” Geoff said, looking down at his hand.
“I don’t care how …”
“Wait,” Tim said, interrupting the captain. “Geoff’s right—he’s more use to us alive than dead.”
“And may I ask why?”
“
Because believe it or not, the reason these aliens are invading two hundred years early has something to do with Geoff’s hand,” Tim said, “and he’s the only person who knows why.”
“What?”
“It’s a little complicated,” Tim said, “but when Mr. Knight broke Geoff’s hand, history changed in some way that allowed these aliens to invade two hundred years earlier than before. If we could somehow trick him into telling us why, we might be able to use the information to our advantage.”
“Plus, if I don’t find out, it’s really going to bug me,” Geoff said.
The captain thought about this for a moment in silence.
“Fine,” he said, tugging the end of his rifle free from Geoff’s grip and pulling out another clip of ammunition. He turned to the other guards. “Everyone change over to stun rounds,” he ordered. “If you get a clear shot, aim for the legs to immobilize the target—the holiday boys want to ask our friend a few questions before we kill him.”
“Erm … what are you supposed to do if you haven’t got a gun?” Geoff said, suddenly noticing that everyone had a weapon of some description apart from him.
“If you haven’t got a gun, stick close to me,” the captain said. “I’ll cover you.”
“That’s a great plan,” Geoff said. “Or—and here’s another great plan—how about I get a gun too?”
The captain looked at Geoff.
“Are you right or left handed?” he said.
“Erm … right handed.”
“The hand in the bandage?”
“Left handed,” Geoff said, correcting himself. “I’m left handed.”
“And what’s your accuracy rating with a Heavy Assault Laser Rifle?”
“My what?”
“Your accuracy rating.”
“Erm … twelve?” Geoff guessed.
“Twelve?!” the captain said. “The rating’s measured in letters! Have you even fired a gun before?”
“Of course!” he said.
“You have?”
Tim looked at Geoff and raised his eyebrows. “Playing Time Crisis in the arcades doesn’t count,” he said.