The Osiris Invasion: Book Two of Seeds of a Fallen Empire

by Anne Spackman

  Everyone in the room listening to the message began to speak. The first alien ship had not been confirmed as dangerous, but it certainly wasn't a good sign for another to be coming along. How many more were heading in their direction? Zhdanov wished to God he knew.

  Those assembled in the communications center at the UESRC listened anxiously as the aide near Pluto updated them on the ship's progress. Suddenly the sound of the defense alarm began to blare. In the background, Gallagher's voice could be heard.

  "Of course I can see that it's stopped. What are those things—enemy fighters? What? No, I didn't notice. I see it now. I think that's all the confirmation we need. We can see that the hull plates are moving—yes, we have proof of hostile intent. Prepare to fire the missiles." A flurry of commotion and various sounds followed. Gallagher gave the order to fire.

  "Our missiles were a direct hit, sir." The aide said to Gallagher, all thoughts of his transmission to Earth forgotten. The assembly in the safety of the UESRC communications center listened helplessly to the broadcast conversation. "We've annihilated their missiles." The aide went on, sounding less composed than before. "A few managed through to their ship, but tracking plots show the alien ship's hull wasn't scratched."

  "Can we get a vis—" Gallagher began.

  "Sir, they're preparing to fire again!" The young man cried. "Oh God, have mercy—!"

  The communication broke off into static.

  * * * * *

  Late that afternoon, now that she had finished teaching her third year physics class, Sasha hurried on her way to pick Erin up from social instruction care. Richard had probably just begun his second training session about now, and Moira was still in school. From the doorway to the children's playroom, Sasha could see Erin sitting in the corner, slightly apart from the other students.

  Some days Sasha found her daughter among the others, but more often than not Erin played on her own and suffered only a few minutes of forced social cooperation before wandering off to the side. Erin was not an unlikable child; Moira and Erin adored each other, and Moira relished the opportunity to take care of and instruct her new little sister, but Erin did often exhibit an unusual independence of mind and seemed perfectly content to do things for herself, without necessarily having to have her own way. She was simply a loner.

  This afternoon, Sasha lifted her hand, balling her fist, and rapped at the door, perfectly aware that she had arrived earlier than usual. Dr. Carlisle came to the door and ushered Sasha inside with an air of conspiracy afoot. A broad smile usually brightened the face of the new permanent day-care instructor, a tall, young, somewhat gregarious woman only recently married to Professor Graham, one of Sasha's colleagues—but not today. Actually, Sasha was glad. She didn’t much care for Dr. Carlisle, a frenetic (Sasha sometimes used the term neurotic), judgmental woman who seemed grossly underqualified to have earned her doctoral degree, at least in Sasha’s opinion. Sasha mentally chastised herself for the uncharitable thought and asked where her daughter was.

  "She's over in the corner, Ms. Blair. Now if you will forgive me, Ms. Blair, I believe I must call your attention to a very important matter concerning Erin's behavior."

  Sasha gave her a questioning look, feeling suddenly defensive as a cat on its guard but determined to be open-minded.

  “What is it?”

  "Well, to put it bluntly, your daughter is frightening the other children." Dr. Carlisle said.

  "I don't believe it." Sasha responded; the words just rolled out. Well, so what? Sasha thought. At least they were honest words.

  "Yes, well, I don't believe she's doing it willfully, either, Ms. Blair." Dr. Carlisle revised her words more kindly and shook her head. "But I have to consider the other children—"

  "I—don't have to listen to this," Sasha interjected, incredulous and short-tempered now. What could a three-year-old possibly do that deserved such a diatribe?

  "But you should listen," Dr. Carlisle said warningly, as though she imagined some kind of nascent evil in Erin’s character. "She has to learn to get along with others, Ms. Blair. I'm speaking in her best interests."

  "All right then, what did she do exactly?" Sasha asked, abrasively.

  "Ah, well, I'm not exactly sure, because I wasn't there when it happened." Dr. Carlisle admitted, seeming daunted by Sasha's hostile expression. "But one of the other children claims that Erin won't stop staring at her. One of those games children play, I believe. It may sound silly, but she had little David near hysteria this afternoon."

  "I'm sorry, Dr. Carlisle," Sasha sighed deeply, hoping to let Dr. Carlisle know just how ridiculous she considered the charges against her daughter, "but it doesn't sound like Erin's done anything wrong—or out of the ordinary—to me." She paused, considering. "But if the other children did something to provoke her—"

  "Ms. Blair, I understand your concerns. I know about the trauma Erin's been through." Dr. Carlisle interrupted, nodding. "And I want you to understand that I'm willing to overlook some abnormalities in her behavior, but I thought you should at least be made aware of the problems. But, on a more positive note, I believe Erin is making progress in learning how to cooperate with others. She's made a new friend with the Arnaud-Brasseau girl, but Colleen leaves at the half-day break. You see, that's when all the disturbances start."

  "Well then, why don't you ask Colleen what she thinks about Erin's—and the other children's—behavior?" Sasha thought suddenly. “Has it never occurred to you that the others might be provoking Erin? Why not ask Colleen about it?”

  Dr. Carlisle nodded. "That would be pointless, since Colleen isn't there when the trouble starts, but I do plan to ask her a few questions, anyway. Still, I hope you don't think badly of me. I do enjoy teaching Erin, you understand. She is such a bright little girl, and independent, which is not entirely a bad thing. However, discipline must be maintained—”

  “Yes, I understand.” Sasha nodded, ready to leave.

  “I've been meaning to ask you,” Dr. Carlisle said, “did you just teach Erin to write or was that Mr. Mathieson?"

  "Did I teach her to write?" Sasha echoed, surprised.

  "Why, yes." The young woman went on, seeming at least as generous in her praise as she was liberal in her criticism. "This morning I found her copying out words from one of our readers with a light-pen. She should almost be finished with it by now." Dr. Carlisle led Sasha over to where Erin sat. The little girl looked up and grinned ear to ear, flinging herself at her mother.

  "I'll overlook what happened today, as long as it doesn't happen again," Dr. Carlisle said. "If it does, we may have to involve Dr. Cameron in the matter."

  I assure you I will, Sasha thought darkly. After a hug, Sasha took Erin's hand and bent down to pick up the discarded image screens her daughter had been working on. She examined them with a quick and keen eye, wondering at the neat, tiny script, so flowing, so exact and precise.

  "Erin, dear, are you going to be all right?" Dr. Carlisle suddenly asked.

  "What's wrong?" Sasha asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep irritation out of her voice. She had almost added “now".

  "Erin scraped her knee playing earlier—" Dr. Carlisle began, then stopped. "Well, that's strange," she continued, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

  Sasha looked down to her daughter's knees.

  "They look fine to me," she observed.

  "Hmm. I could have sworn—" Dr. Carlisle insisted, shaking her head. Erin was staring at her, wide-eyed, calmly but intently; a moment later, Dr. Carlisle's face broke into an unfettered smile. "Well, I suppose it was probably one of the others..." she said and shrugged easily.

  "Yes," Sasha agreed, privately questioning the woman's judgment. "Time to go," she said loudly, shaking her head to clear away random, unsettling thoughts, and took Erin's hand.

  They had only made it so far as the
children's wing cafeteria when a message came over the communications grid. Sasha listened as a long list of names were read out and to her surprise heard her own included among them. She stopped, alert and waiting to hear her instructions in her mind implant.

  "....must all report immediately to astroport E Oceanus Conference Room," the voice continued. "This is a code one emergency..."

  Sasha unconsciously squeezed Erin's hand harder. The last code one emergency had been the day the alien ship arrived, and yet the whole base hadn't been alerted even then. Why on Earth would they be sending a message in the children's wing? It had to be.... something big.

  Sasha swallowed, finding a lump suddenly stuck like glue in her throat, and was unable to finish her thoughts. "Come on, darling, Mommy has to go now. Try to be a good girl when we get there, won't you?" She added a little nervously, and they continued down the hall.

  * * * * *

  Ten minutes later, Sasha found a seat at the rear of the crowded Oceanus Conference Room and pulled Erin onto her lap. Near the front, Dawe, Arnaud, Hollendar, Knightwood, and Zhdanov were holding a conversation with someone Sasha didn't recognize. She glanced around the room to see if her husband was in sight, but she reckoned he must have been already seated with the training pilots. Anyway, it appeared that the emergency meeting was about to begin, and she didn't have time to look for him.

  Zhdanov moved to the podium decisively, still wearing his white lab coat, even though he hadn't been to the labs yet today. Like the others, Sasha knew at once that something was indeed seriously wrong—Zhdanov's face was a mask of serenity, something it rarely was, as he glanced around the room.

  Before Zhdanov addressed the audience, he paused, as if to summon energy for what he was about to say, though as to what had drained that infinite, chemically stimulated well of focused energy, Sasha could hardly imagine. And she didn't want to. The sight of Zhdanov like this was somehow disturbing, demoralizing.

  "No doubt many of you are wondering why we have called an emergency conference," Zhdanov began, coming directly to the point.

  "The simple fact is, ladies and gentlemen,” he went on, “you are here as a result of a worldwide consensus reached only a few hours ago. All regional and worldwide authorities have agreed to grant the United Earth Government full plenipotentiary power over our world for the foreseeable future. The United Earth Government immediately decided to combine the United Earth Security Service with the United Earth Science Council. The new organization will be called the United Earth Security Force."

  Whispers broke out all over the room. Sasha said nothing but looked around, listening to the whispered conjectures of the others around her. It was not every day that the status quo of three hundred years was amended, much less to create a security—force? The very word was a cause for alarm, and everyone knew it.

  Zhdanov raised his hands in an attempt to silence them before continuing.

  "I'm sure you are all wondering what has prompted this action. Six months ago, some of you may have heard rumors concerning a runaway ship that crashed in sector eight." He paused, darting his reptilian eyes around the audience. "That rumor was true." Whispers again broke out across the room. Sasha was beginning to get annoyed; would they just let the man speak?

  "Please, please, let me finish." Zhdanov raised his voice above the noise, his arms extended in a gesture of supplication, palms up. He did not have the authority to order them to silence, though at the moment, he wished he did.

  "However," he continued, "you may have heard that the object was a ship from Pluto, or part of a simulated disaster drill. I would like to dispel any rumors concerning the incident by showing you all something. Could you cut the lights, please?"

  Zhdanov motioned to the operator in the communications control box with a thumbs-up signal. Immediately, a three-dimensional vidigital segment began to play in the space beside him; Zhdanov narrated at the same time.

  "This is a piece of footage taken by trainee Blair as the Pegasus Recon Team that we sent out to sector eight approached the crash site. In a moment when the gas clouds part, you will see—"

  Zhdanov didn't need to finish. At that moment, the audience responded with one simultaneous gasp.

  Erin was staring at Zhdanov, sitting calmly on her mother's lap. Sasha smoothed her hair, only occasionally glancing up as he spoke; she had seen the footage before, of course, and then again in debriefing; the memories were too disturbing to watch it yet again. Erin, however, seemed intent upon Zhdanov's speech; the little girl tensed when she saw the ship appear on the conference monitor and opened her mouth as though to cry out, but the words never came.

  A moment later, the monitor image faded, and the lights came on again. "We did not release this information because until now the alien vessel has given us no indication of its being a threat." Zhdanov continued. "In fact, only a short time after this footage was taken, the destruction of the ship that began with the impact was finished by several million tons of rock falling onto it.

  “Satellite data has shown that the ship first split in half and then fragmented as it was carried further down the cliff side. Most of the pieces were buried and it will take a great deal of time to extract the wreckage. From what we could see, the ship was largely hollow inside and appears to have been a kind of giant cargo freighter. Analysis of the hull will surely provide some answers concerning the vessel's point of origin and what type of intelligence we are dealing with.

  "However, another matter must take precedence over our investigation." Zhdanov's voice dropped in pitch but remained calm. "Early this morning we received a transmission from our Pluto base that another space vessel had just entered our solar system."

  Now there was a dreadful silence in the room. Zhdanov had their complete attention, and his voice echoed, yet he had expected no less. As he spoke, he could see the same range of emotions in his audience's faces that he had felt upon hearing the news: the same nauseating surprise, fear, uncertainty, and desperation that he had experienced in the aftermath of Gallagher's message, in the privacy of his own quarters where no one depended upon him as a model of courage.

  "Minutes later, we lost contact with the Comet Tracking and Explorer Probe Launch Base on Pluto. In brief, we have confirmed that the entire Pluto Base was destroyed by hostile forces aboard this second alien vessel.

  "This is why you have been called here today." Zhdanov coughed, clearing his throat. "Under the code of global legislation enacted after the Crisis Years, all military forces on Earth were disbanded to ensure peace. But that peace has now been threatened by this alien arrival, and at the emergency meeting of the United Earth Government, it was decided that to maintain our security, we must actively defend our planet. In accordance with that decision, the new United Earth Security Force has been chartered to build defense bases in each of the major cities of our urban zones and to fortify our bases on the moon, Mars, and Titan.

  "I see the disbelief in your faces. To combine our science and security organizations into a single technology-driven security force breaks every tenet that our society has governed itself by since the Crisis Years. But that’s the irony of the situation—if our ancestors hadn’t come close to totally destroying the entire planet, we might not have found ourselves so completely unprepared for this new threat.

  “And I assure you that the UEG is in a state of near panic or it never could have considered such an action. They are demanding that we move quickly. A new combined organization structure will be announced shortly and that will affect us all. However, even as we speak, our top research team under the guidance of Dr. Cameron is already being established to develop weapons to be installed at these bases and at the former scientific centers." Zhdanov's dark eyes swept over the room, picking out scientists and trainees he knew personally.

  "Many of you will be transferred to these bases because of your experience as trainees, pilo
ts, and communications operators. At this time, you are our best hope to defend our planet. However, the UEG has also issued an emergency order to immediately set up schools to train new pilots, spaceship technicians, and engineers for the UESF.

  "I only hope we can adapt to the abrupt changes we must make in our lives." Zhdanov added in a hoarse voice, then compulsively drank some water to clear his throat; afterward, he realized he had not noticed how the glass got there. No doubt one of the aides had come by with it in the middle of his speech, but he did not remember taking it.

  "We do not know how much time we have to prepare for an attack on Earth," he continued, struggling to divert his attention back to his next point, "but please, I ask all of you to remain optimistic. While defense weapons and precautions are necessary, your faith and attitude are essential if we hope to implement any real, lasting defense of the Earth.

  "We don't know what the aliens are capable of, or what they intend to do. The only comforting news is that it appears they used only simple missile weaponry to destroy our Pluto Base. It may be that they hope only to terrorize us, to conquer the Earth, to enslave us—and yet they may not hesitate to send a nuclear arsenal against us, or perhaps something far worse," he admitted.

  "It is true we are poorly prepared for an attack on our planet." Zhdanov shook his head soberly. "But if we get just a little time, we will have missiles to counteract theirs. And if they intend to conquer our civilization, it seems unlikely they would use nuclear weapons against us or risk destroying valuable territory.

  “Both recent events and ancient Earth history tell us that our pilots, and our air force squadrons will be the main forefront of our campaign to protect our home world. Also, we have considered that the aliens will probably use the same strike tactics on Earth as they did with the Pluto Base, so we have initiated a crash program to provide each urban zone with a base for its own defense.

  "You will receive your new posts within the next few days. If any of you have any questions, we will be calling a meeting tomorrow morning to answer them. Thank you for your attention." Zhdanov nodded to the audience and walked back to Knightwood, Dawe, Arnaud, and Hollendar, who had been busy working on transfer notices throughout the conference.