by James Palmer
Sheron placed a reassuring hand on Dr. Morgan’s shoulder.
Cynthia flinched.
“You should take a minute to rest, Doctor.”
“Can’t.”
“You are going to kill yourself if you don’t slow down.”
“Time,” Dr. Morgan sighed. “I believe is of the essence at the moment.”
“Just don’t overdo it, okay?”
Morgan smiled. “I’ll try not to,” she said in an attempt to placate her new nursemaid. “Can you grab me that tool kit from under the wall unit over there?”
Not believing for a second that she would rest, but needing to keep her focused, Vandrell did as she was asked and grabbed the tool kit.
Once the lieutenant had returned, the doctor was clutching her trembling hand as the pain returned. “I’ll probably be --ungh-- unconscious before long,” she admitted. “Can you do this?”
The lieutenant let out a breath. “I see your point, Doc. I’ll stop hovering. I’ll check again to see if there is a way out of here.”
“Good idea.” Cynthia Morgan’s voice trailed off as the pain ripped into her again. A gnawing fear gripped her. If she could not get them out of this, none of them would live to see tomorrow.
That thought turned out to be her last for a while as the world around her spun out of control. Unconscious, she fell from her chair to the floor.
“Oh damn,” Lt. Vandrell cursed as she rushed back to the chief administrator’s side.
“Is she okay?” Waylon called from across the room.
“It’s not good. I need that door open!”
“On it, L.T.”
“Come on, Doc. This is no time for lying down on the job.”
20
Alliance Starship Ulysis
The voyage to Earth’s sector of space was taking far too long.
At least as far as Admiral James McKeen was concerned. Even though the Ulysis traveled at speeds far exceeding any other Alliance vessel in this or any other sector of known space, the trip seemed to be taking forever.
What the Alliance referred to as “known space” was a rather large area encompassing many hundreds of quadrants. Known space was vast, especially if one got lost in it. Which was not as particularly hard as one might think. Over the years there had been many instances where ships somehow managed to veer off course by a matter of a few degrees and missed their planned mark.
In effect, they got lost.
Some were lucky enough to find their way back to a familiar system, but many more did not fare as well. The memory of searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack popped into his brain. The search for missing ships was not a duty he was eager to be part of again.
The commander had promised to give the admiral a tour when he had arrived, but in his haste to meet with Captain Andrews, there had not been time. The admiral and the captain of the Ulysis had urgent business to discuss so the tour had been put on hold. Now that the admiral found himself with some down time to roam the massive ship, it appeared that Commander Maddox was too busy to break away.
Understandable, since the crew was preparing to thwart an alleged invasion of the planet Earth. He had uncovered a plot to take back the planet by force. A group of self proclaimed freedom fighters calling themselves The Earth Liberation League had been a very vocal participant in last year’s congressional summit. They, and others, were very much opposed to the continued support of the UPA for the citizens that were allowed to live on the planet.
Although the galaxy was a vast place, the threat of overpopulation remained, as it had for some time, a growing concern for the citizenry of this sector of space.
Space was at a premium.
There were, at best, only a handful of planets that could even begin to support human life naturally. Preparing colonies for settlement on these planets took time and resources. To be constructed properly, a colony took money, personnel, and perseverance. It was a rough life, especially in the beginning, when settlements were new.
With the colonies being mostly self-sufficient, any extra resources they might find themselves with were put aside for maintenance, repairs, and other expenditures. It was heavily argued that a portion of those resources could have gone to building more colony outposts. It was a widely debated argument that neither side seemed to win.
Colonization planning was heard several times in the last session of Congress, but the legislature refused to abandon those people living in the older colonies. They had rights as well as those that had no place to call home. The legislature tabled the discussion with the promise to work out an equitable solution.
Unfortunately a small band of idealists refused to wait. They decided to take the matter into their own hands.
Demand had long ago exceeded supply and after years of doing without, they were prepared to take what they wanted.
And what they wanted was Earth.
All available space inside the space stations and the planetary colonies had been filled to capacity. Many colonial cities had even started refusing entry to any potential new colonists for fear that they might root themselves in and refuse to leave. Such actions had lead to borders wars and skirmishes over land rights. Several colonies began stockpiling weapons. A few erected large walls around themselves to keep others out.
People were desperate for a place to live, a place to call their own.
Nothing was available.
Except Earth.
A planet teeming with beautiful mountain ranges and wide, lush valleys, but the plains were empty. The sky was a beautiful azure blue. The place was ideal for colonization. The catch, and there was always a catch, was that one had to be among the richest of the rich to even visit the planet’s floating theme park city.
To live there required even more.
The members of the Earth Liberation League had simple goals. They wanted to make the Earth available to everyone. A nice dream, but in the realm of politics, the money men made policy. And the one thing Earth had more than empty space was money.
A whole lot of it.
The admiral shook his head at the thought. Even he, a man who had spent the better part of his life fighting for the safety of that very planet could never set foot on it. Nor could he ever see it with his own two eyes. Well, at least the one good eye that remained.
Absently, he rubbed a finger along the prosthesis on the left side of his face, its cool metallic surface smooth to the touch. He had many reasons, too numerous to recount, to hate the faceplate, but it had saved his life. Over the past few years he has almost gotten used to its presence.
Almost.
Before he was even fully aware of it, the admiral found himself at the end of a lengthy corridor he did not recognize. He stopped to gather his bearings, but there was no escaping the simple fact that he was hopelessly lost. Did I miss a turn? This certainly doesn’t look like brown section.
Embarrassed to have lost his way, he could ill afford the time to wander the massive expanse of the Ulysis aimlessly, hoping to see a familiar landmark. It was possible to walk for hours and never find his way back to a familiar section.
Spotting a public terminal at the end of the corridor he stepped up to it, entering his six-digit code into the interface padd. The padd consulted the ship wide computer network, which included a map to help him find his way out of the civilian section and back to the more familiar military decks. He touched the padd and a pleasant sounding female voice greeted him.
“Thank you.”
“Your welcome,” he answered before remembering he was talking to a computer. He tried to hide his sheepish grin. Luckily he was alone in the corridor.
A small yellow arrow appeared on the padd’s screen. It pointed at a location on the map. According to the map, he was in a location just outside of ‘Nomad City.’ He had wandered quite a distance from brown section where he had started.
Nomad City was the floating colony that had made the Ulysis its home. It had acquired its name because the Uly
sis never stayed in one place very long. And where the Ulysis went, the city went. It was a nomadic lifestyle, which someone once commented. The name stuck, and a colony was born. McKeen often wondered that if a suitable home could be found after all this time, would the inhabitants of Nomad City put down roots or had they grown so accustomed to wandering that they would want to stay with the Ulysis?
Nomad City was essentially a separate entity from the Ulysis, governed by its own laws and rules. However, the captain of the Ulysis had a good bit of pull. Despite its autonomy, Nomad City was still a part of his ship, which McKeen guessed made Bill Andrews the city’s landlord.
“You are here,” the computer voice intoned. “Please state the full name of the destination you are trying to reach. The map will then show you the most convenient path to your final destination.”
“Where’s a good place to eat?”
“Unable to comply. Please restate request.”
“Damn computers.” He reached toward the screen and touches the help key. A file scrolled open, displaying a selection of places one could visit in the civilian section of the floating city. The plan had been for the Ulysis to search for a permanent location to unload the colonists. However, the rough times have not made this an easy mission.
Over the course of the four years since Nomad City’s inception, however, everyone seemed to think of the Ulysis as their home. He wondered how many of these people knew of the possible dangers that faced this ship and everyone on board once they reached their destination. How many would suffer because of the order he gave to take the Ulysis to Earth? How many might die in the battle that would probably happen once they arrived?
McKeen was not a man to second-guess himself or his orders, but he did wonder about these things from time to time.
The computer answered his typed command with a list of restaurants along the food court area. He scanned the list, but had trouble deciding on one that sounded appetizing.
“Please enter your appropriate choice.”
“Never mind,” he told the computer, although the computer was unaware of his meaning. “I’m suddenly not very hungry.”
He tapped the exit key and the padd’s screen winked out, leaving behind a lovely painting by a local colony artist. McKeen took a moment to study the piece before continuing his self- guided tour. In his spare time, of which he seemed to have less and less of lately, McKeen dabbled in painting himself. Although not quite as good as the artist whose painting decorated the image on the screen, he wasn’t a slouch with a paintbrush himself.
Giving up on dinner, he decided to return to his temporary quarters and call it a night. If he could find them, that was. It had been a long trip and he was beginning to feel the effects. A few good hours of sac time will do me a world of good.
Marshal Maxwell Vortex would be sending him an update on any new information he and his team might have picked up regarding the planned coup the Earth Liberation League was supposedly planning. An update he very much looked forward to receiving before turning in. The marshal’s news could affect the role that the Ulysis would play in the coming hours.
If the marshal and his forces could find the conspirators and stop the coup before it gained ground, the situation would be easier to put to rest. If the marshal was unsuccessful in stopping the plans from commencing then nothing would ever be the same on Earth again.
Nothing would ever be the same anywhere.
“And that would be a damned shame,” he muttered tiredly as he turned and headed back the way he came.
What he didn’t notice was that someone was watching him very carefully.
Melvin Jeffries stifled a yawn.
The shuttle pilot sat alone in a quiet bar and grill in Nomad City’s food court. The sign above the double doors flashed in deep red the words Floating City Bar & Grill. Jeffries glanced around at the people of the aptly coined floating city and wondered how life might be if he lived somewhere similar. Somehow, he suspected he could not be comfortable in a place like this. Not because it was a starship constantly on the move, but because he couldn’t fathom never being able to go outside. He had spent his time serving aboard ships before and looked back on his tours with great fondness, but going planet side was always a treat.
Part of what bothered him was that living in Nomad City took away some of the thrill of going someplace new. You were always home, even if your home constantly moved into the unknown reaches of outer space. It seemed a little too pat for him.
Seek out the unknown, go home. Repeat the next morning.
It seemed to take some of the magic out of discovering the unknown for him, made it more mundane somehow. Are you really exploring if you never leave home?
Space was a very big place. Sometimes it felt almost too big. Jeffries always got a little philosophical after a few drinks. Although he was in control of himself, he had enjoyed a drink or four since arriving in Nomad City.
After dropping off Admiral McKeen for his meeting with the Ulysis’ Captain, Lt. Jeffries had requested permission to return to Mars for his next assignment. The admiral had denied his request, telling the shuttle pilot that he was to remain aboard in case he was needed.
Until further notice, he reported directly to Admiral McKeen.
The admiral had not given the Lieutenant a reason for the change in orders. Jeffries did inquire either since members of the admiralty rarely felt the need to consult with low ranking pilots before making a command decision. He would deal with it. In the military one had to learn to go with the flow.
At the time it seemed the perfect opportunity for a slight all expense paid vacation. The admiral had told him to enjoy himself, after all. His new commanding officer had even given him a credit card to use so he was essentially paying for everything. How often would it be before an opportunity like this dropped in Jeffries’ lap again?
Not anytime soon, he guessed.
So best to enjoy it while it lasted.
The ship’s first officer had found a guest quarter suite for him and even requisitioned some extra uniforms for him to wear while aboard. Jeffries he had very few personal items with him since he had not expected to stay. Everyone had been so kind and helpful.
Yesterday had been a grand adventure. It was a treat and a half to have free rein of such a magnificent vessel like the Ulysis. A great admirer of starship mechanics, the commander had allowed him time to go over many of the ship’s inner workings. Since he had been a small child, Melvin Jeffries had wanted to work on a starship just like this one. Circumstances beyond his control had halted those plans after he enrolled in the UPA Academy. His superiors discovered that he was a far, far better pilot than he would ever be an engineer so his duties were switched and that was the end of that.
The only thing he hadn’t been able to squeeze in was a tour of the bridge. Hopefully there would be time for that before he and the admiral returned to Mars. At least he hoped so. Far too much time had passed since he last stood on the bridge of a UPA starship bridge. An oversight he was eager to correct.
He took the admiral’s suggestion and decided to make a day of, taking in the local sights. He visited the colony’s main promenade where he found all the amenities of home. Everthing that a thriving colony needed was all under one roof, including a shopping mall, several different restaurants of varying culinary tastes, and an entertainment lounge. He basically played tourist for the better part of a day. It was great.
That was yesterday.
Today, however, the Lieutenant found himself bored beyond belief.
The Ulysis was the place to be if you had something to do. At present, he did not, ergo the boredom.
Downing the last of his drink, he left a credit chit on the table, tipping the pretty waitress who had served him the aforementioned drink or four handsomely, and left. Even though he figured it was his imagination, he could not shake the feeling that people were looking at him.
It was probably nothing, he told himself. For all its size, the Uly
sis was little more than a small community, most people aboard know one another. He was probably instantly recognized as the new kid in town, or an outsider, although it had been years since anyone could consider him a kid.
And he had the gray hairs to prove it.
Stepping out into the plaza outside of the bar, he looked around for something to do to keep his mind off the fact that he wanted nothing more than to hop in his shuttle and blast off for home. He easily visualized Mar’s craggy landscape in his mind’s eye. He could fly the Outlands with his eyes shut, he knew them so well.
Sure, Mars was a dust-covered rock, but the sunsets were some of the most beautiful spectacles in the galaxy. You had to see it to truly believe it.
“God, I am so homesick,” he said, the realized he’d said it a little louder than he had intended. “Great,” he muttered to himself. “Now I’m not only the new guy in town, but I’m the new guy in town who talks to himself after a few drinks.”
He walked to the nearest escalator, hoping to avoid the crowds when he spied a familiar face through a large window on the next level up.
Admiral McKeen was walking down the corridor just above the civilian level, passed the Overlook into the colony. The Overlook, he had been told, was a lounge where military officers could unwind in their downtime without getting caught up in the hustle and bustle of the colony.
Luckily for Melvin Jeffries, he was a Lieutenant in the Alliance military so the Overlook was open to him as well. He jogged to the elevator, keyed in his access code, and stepped inside. Once the doors hissed closed he told the computer his intended destination. Soon after he had been deposited on the level where he had seen the admiral walking just a minute before.
The admiral had been very friendly on the long inbound flight. If nothing else, Lt. Jeffries thought he would offer the man a drink. If nothing else, it was better than drinking alone. Plus, the admiral was technically paying for the drinks anyway, so he might as well get to enjoy the fruits of his labors.