Death of Time (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 4) 2nd Edition.: A thrilling, psychological, Mystery and Suspense, sci-fi detective thriller. (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy)
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Death of Time
BOOK 4
2nd Edition
Includes new material
A Novel by Gerry A Saunders
Cover Art by Gerry A. Saunders.
© Copyright 2015 Gerry A. Saunders
This edition of Death of Time is my fourth book in what has now become my SpaceFed StarShips Series and links with events in Book three. It is a thrilling follow-on sci-fi detective story. With plenty of action and intrigue.
See more by this author:
SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy,
Book 1. Battles at Zeta Reticuli
Book 2. Battle for Delta Pavonis.
Book 3. An Alliance at Kepler.
SpaceFed StarShips Series.
Book 5. Acarea – A Triumph or Disaster.
Book 6. The Garoden War.
http://www.spacefedbooks.com
Content
Death of Time
See more by this author:
Content
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
Chapter 17.
Chapter 18.
Chapter 19.
Chapter 20.
Chapter 21.
Chapter 22.
Chapter 23.
Chapter 24.
Chapter 25.
Chapter 26.
Chapter 27.
Chapter 28.
Chapter 29.
Chapter 30.
Chapter 31.
Chapter 32.
Chapter 33.
Chapter 34.
Chapter 35.
Chapter 36.
Chapter 37.
Chapter 38.
Chapter 39.
Chapter 40.
Chapter 41.
Chapter 42.
Chapter 43.
Epilogue.
A sample from my next book.
Acarea- A Triumph or Disaster?
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1.
Time Shift.
The Starship Andromeda was in a geostationary orbit, 450 kilometres above DPav4. With her hull, bathed in Delta Pavonis’s yellow-orange light, appearing to be a dark gold in colour.
The Starship Derringer, together with the Illustrious, Turpin and Repulse, had left for Earth five days ago to replenish their stocks and take some well-earned rest. However, the Andromeda would have to wait nearly three weeks for the Illustrious to return before she could go back to Earth.
They had been waiting in this orbit for a week now. And everyone was fed up with the sheer boredom of being stuck in limbo, with nothing much to do while they waited for the other ships to return.
Frank and Susanna were sat back on the generously proportioned couch in the Captain’s cabin. The cabin had recently been refurbished to accommodate the enormous thought-controlled 3D screen that took up the whole of one wall.
The screen had been a present from Savron and seemed to be almost alive as it automatically curved and bent to provide viewers with excellent coverage from wide angles.
They were watching the ever-changing cloud formations that played across the visible part of the planet’s surface below them. Of course, the screen’s resolution and perceived depth of view made it feel like you could actually just step straight through the screen, and into the scene beyond.
Frank remembered Savron saying how old Andromeda’s viewing screens seemed to him. But he hadn’t anticipated receiving this gift from Savron.
He was even more surprised that he’d actually allowed Savron’s engineers to come aboard to install the screen. And, to reconfigure the interface to suit Andromeda’s system and his own implant.
He looked surreptitiously at Susanna. He was worried about her and could see that she was still feeling sad. He knew she couldn’t stop thinking about what Cazer had done to Jenny, and how Jenny had been driven to take her own life. He remembered that, after this, Susanna had told him that everything seemed different now and she felt anxious about their future.
Frank got up from the sofa and moved closer to the screen.
“I know it’s not Earth, Sues. But it’s still damn beautiful just the same.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, stretching fully out on the sofa now that he’d moved.
“What’s Hector doing now that it’s all gone quiet again?”
“Argonaut’s scientists are carrying on with their own scientific work. Especially, now they’ve got a temporal field detector to play with, courtesy of the Solverons.”
“Yea. Just up Hector’s street,” she replied. Then yawned, and feeling bored closed her eyes.
He had to admit that he was also finding this waiting a bit boring. But the voyage itself hadn’t been dull. What with Captain Chunvic’s Crillon Battleship turning up, and Cazer’s attempt to extract his progeny.
Both Frank and Susanna now knew that Cazer had been the scientist in charge of growing the warp crystals. And, was the Crillon, who used some young women for his sexual experiments.
However, one thing still concerned him. He knew he should have visited the mother of Cazer’s boys. Bren had said that both of her sons had gone missing. Or, at least couldn’t be located at the moment.
He’d also told him that she was still suffering terribly from the treatment she’d received from Cazer. So Acarea had arranged for her to have treatment for her trauma, at a dedicated centre in City Marca.
Frank suddenly felt nauseous, and turned round, only to see that Susanna and everything else around him had become semi-transparent.
This only lasted for a second or two.
Then, the sound of contact alarms permeated the Andromeda.
Frank, no longer nauseous, quickly turned back to look at the screen.
Then gasped, as he saw a massive Crillon Battleship, heading towards them. The battleship had seemed to come from nowhere.
As it came closer, the ship swelled in size on the screen, and he could see that it must be at least twice the size of the Andromeda.
‘Andromeda, analyse now,’ he ordered. Although knowing that she was already doing so.
Then the battleship suddenly came to a halt. Just six kilometres from their StarShip.
As Frank watched, the Battleship’s force field rapidly extended to encompass the ship. Effectively protecting it from virtually all weapon’s fire.
Frank groaned, seeing her particle beam collimators were running hot.
“Bloody hell. Where did that come from?” he said out loud.
“Frank. It’s going to fire at us,” Andromeda informed him. Her voice sounding crackly, as she automatically went to action stations and set her own force field to maximum density.
Then everything around Frank shimmered for a second again, and the Crillon Battleship was gone.
“Andromeda. Analyse now?” Frank ordered
Mark Trask, Andromeda’s weapon specialist then came online. “Frank. My systems have just finished scanning the Crillon ship. It’
s bad news. There’s no way we can fight it, and expect to win… It’s different than any other Crillon ship we’ve seen.”
“What do you mean? How?”
“Well, it seems to be a lot more technically advanced than it should.”
Frank paused while he studied the data flow from Mark that was also showing on his screen.
“I can see what you mean,” he finally acknowledged.
Then everything around Frank shimmered for a second or two, again. And, the Crillon Battleship was gone.
“Andromeda. Analyse again?” Frank ordered.
One light minute out from DPav4 and the Argonaut’s, sensors had also registered the Crillon Battleship’s appearance.
Hector could see that, for all intents and purposes, the Battleship was real, and about to fire on the Andromeda.
At the same time, Hector’s scientists had registered a temporal displacement as the ship materialized.
Then, the same effect when it disappeared.
Professor Sims, Argonaut’s head of science, buzzed Hector.
“Yes, Sims. What have you got?”
“That Crillon Battleship was real. It could have blasted the Andromeda to smithereens, in the blink of an eye.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know, Sims.”
“Well, we all think the battleship came from somewhere else, or, more likely from some other time?”
“Stop talking in riddles, damn it.”
“Sorry,” Sims said. Then paused, presumably receiving an update from his staff.
“Okay… It looks like a time problem. The Solveron’s temporal field analyser has separated out the different types of time-shift.”
“And?”
“It’s not just a shift, as in up or down in time.”
“OK, get to the point, I need to talk to Frank, urgently.”
“It’s our timeline that’s changed.”
“What?” Captain Hector Sorrell gasped. He could feel his heart pounding, realizing what that could mean to them all.
“Something's changed our timeline, Hector. The change was minuscule. Only 0.00002. Not enough to have permanently changed it. Especially, as it was only short lived.”
“Then, something in the past must have been changed,” Hector said thinking about it.
“But, luckily for us, for only a moment,” he added then paused.
“What would have happened if the change had been permanent, Sims?”
“Then, we would probably have been annihilated, Hector.”
“Grief,” Hector exclaimed.
“But, are you sure that the temporal time change has definitely reversed itself, and we’re back to normal?” He asked.
“Yes, Hector.”
“Thank goodness for that… I’ll talk to Frank. Thanks, Sims.”
Hector then called the Andromeda.
“Have you got everything on that ship, Hector?” Frank asked as Hector’s face appeared on his secondary screen.
“As much as time allowed.”
“Enlighten me.”
“We reckon it was too advanced to be of the here and now. Which ties in with theTemporal theory.”
Susanna had got up and was now standing next to Frank.
“And?”
“It was a time problem. The Solveron’s temporal field analyser has been able to separate out the different types of time-shift.”
“Go on.”
“It wasn’t a temporal shift, Frank. Like up or down for example. It was our timeline that changed.”
“So, something happened in the past that tampered with it?”
“Looks that way. But, if that’s the end of it, nothing seems to have permanently changed.”
Susanna grasped Frank’s hand and squeezed it hard.
“What, Sues?”
“I… I don’t feel right.”
Suddenly, the Crillon Battleship was back. But this time, only two kilometres out, and directly facing the Andromeda.
Frank looked at the Crillon ship showing on his screen. It was much bigger this time and appeared to be almost within touching range. He shot a look at his secondary display. Then groaned, as he saw the tell-tale buildup of energy at the back of the Crillon ship.
Just then Andromeda’s systems confirmed that the Battleship was about to fire its Antimatter weapon.
“No.” Frank cried out in horror, as he grabbed Susanna.
They looked into each other’s eyes as he hugged her tight.
“Frank,” was the last word she uttered.
Then the Crillon’s Antimatter discharge hit the Andromeda, and it and her crew joined the billions of particles in space.
Chapter 2.
Number Six.
The assassin had decided to use Hank as his alias a long time ago. And, despite being slightly built for an assassin, he had already dispatched five out of the seven people that he was committed to killing within the next two weeks.
However, by definition, Hank wasn’t an assassin this time, because he wasn’t being paid in cash. His payment would instead, be in achieving total failure of a particular Project.
His target, this time, was Harry J Blackstock. He was English. Forty-eight years old, and married with four children, three of whom were boys. Blackstock had been employed by one of America’s largest Banks for some years. And, more significantly, he held an important position in the Bank’s procurement division that was currently handling the top-secret Project.
Although it had been tedious searching for his target’s full details, including his unlisted address. He now had all the information he needed on the man. And, after watching his target’s routine for the last few days, was confident that Blackstock always arrived home at six thirty, on the dot.
Luckily for him, Blackstock’s wife and children having gone to visit her Aunt, were more than forty miles away at the moment. So, now was the perfect time for him to act.
He had been waiting here patiently for some time now. Just far enough away from the target’s house so that he’d be able to follow Blackstock inside before the man closed his front door.
Checking the time on his Smart-watch, he saw that it was five to six already, and thankfully, the sun was casting a red glow as it slowly sank behind the houses on the other side of the street. It was cold already, even with his overcoat collar turned up. Nevertheless, he was determined that he’d kill his target tonight, no matter what.
Six o’clock on the dot and a smartly dressed man in a dark suit passed by him, and walked confidently up to the house, carrying a briefcase.
Hank quickly followed him. Then, just as Blackstock opened his door, he heard a voice behind him ask, “Are you, Mr. Blackstock. Harry Blackstock?”
“Yes,” the man politely replied, as he turned to face Hank. “Do I know you?” he asked, looking puzzled.
“I work at Kimble’s Gun shop, on Phantom Street. We had a call from your wife, Gemma, asking me to come over tonight and discuss it with you.”
“Discuss what? Who are you?”
“Hank, sir. Hasn’t she talked to you about it?”
“No.”
“Well, you’d better call her and check what she wants. I’ve come a long way.”
“I will… so, Kimble’s Gun shop. On Phantom Street, you say? I haven’t heard of it, or the street.”
As a rule, Hank would have shot his target straight off. But, in this case, he needed to look around to see if Blackstock had any information on his 7th target. However, he could see that Blackstock was starting to think about things, too much.
“Can you call her now, please? I don’t want to waste your time or mine,” he urged Blackstock.
“You’d better come in then…H’mm, Phantom Street you say,” he muttered, as Hank followed him in.
“Close the door…Err. Hank, and wait here. I’ll get my phone,” Blackstock ordered and hurried off inside as Hank closed the front door.
Then he went into the adjacent room and saw a dining table, six chairs, and
a mirror but not much else. However, he was sure that Blackstock would have a study somewhere, and if there were any information, it would be there.
He knew that Blackstock would be using a specially encrypted phone to call his wife, and this would take more time. But, knowing that he’d have to move things along while he was still ahead, he took his ‘prototype’ weapon out of his inside pocket and laid it on the table. Then, checked that his shoulder holster revolver was ready for use.
A short time later, Blackstock returned.
“My wife seemed puzzled. Anyway, she’ll be back in about five minutes,” he told Hank. Then his eyes locked onto the oversized weapon laying on the table.
“What on earth is that?”
“It’s a prototype. Here, hold it,” Hank offered, handing the weapon to Blackstock.
“It’s heavy. It would be much too heavy for my wife to handle,” he commented as he held it in his hand.
Then Blackstock ran his other hand over it, noting that the egg-shaped section at the top was warm.
“And I suppose this is the trigger,” he said, changing his grip and placing a finger on it.
Then pointing the weapon directly at Hank, menacingly asked, “Who are you?”
“It won’t work for you,” Hank calmly replied, extending his hand to take it back.
Blackstock ignored him, and pressed the trigger, but nothing happened.
“It doesn’t work. It’s just a dummy,” he muttered in disgust, as he threw it back on the table.
Then Hank quickly removed his revolver from its shoulder holster and pointed it directly at Blackstock’s head.
But Blackstock didn’t seem to be overly concerned as he looked down the muzzle of the revolver.