Captivity
Page 4
“There is nothing going on here, Lieutenant Commander,” responded Andrews. “Dr. Loring and I are merely looking at some maps of the planet that we were able to construct after our recent expedition.”
“Don’t give me that crap. The two of you have been scheming all afternoon and evening. I’m second in command now. I have the right to know what’s happening. The Captain is dead, which apparently means nothing to you two. Four people have been killed on the surface, and all you two can do is sit here and read maps. Why don’t we just blast the whole damn planet to—” Pearson stopped short. Loring and Andrews had begun laughing hysterically. He glanced around, and seeing nothing funny he looked down at himself. It was then he realized that he didn’t have the belt for his robe. The robe had slipped open revealing his nude body. He did an about face and stomped out of the room banging the door loudly behind himself.
Andrews and Loring tried composing themselves. There were tears in their eyes. After the last twenty four hours it was sure good to have something to laugh about.
“I’d better go talk to him,” said Loring, wiping the tears off his cheek. “Should I let him in on the Brisula Project Plans?”
“It is still top secret, and everyone in the original landing party was sworn to secrecy, and— well— I guess these recent circumstances do change things. And should anything happen to me— well— I guess we should fill Pearson in on the details.”
Loring loved listening to Andrews think out loud. It was something he did quite often. “Be right back,” Loring said as he scooted out the door and down the hall to Pearson’s room.
“Calm down, honey,” Diane was saying when Loring knocked on the door. “That’s probably Dave now, to apologize.”
“Sure,” muttered Pearson. He was slumped down in the armchair near the closet where he had earlier stubbed his toe.
“See you put some pants on,” said Loring sliding into the other arm chair. Pearson gave him a dirty look, and Loring decided he’d do best to drop the funny stuff and get right to the point. “Look Dennis, Dave and I are sorry for not confiding in you sooner, but it’s just that we’ve been so puzzled and engrossed with the latest developments on Brisula, that we just forgot to tell you. I know that’s no excuse but please forgive us. We’re really just as upset about the Captain’s disappearance as you are.”
“Disappearance?” questioned Diane.
“Death, I mean,” corrected Loring. “Andrews has asked me to fill you in on what’s been going on and on the original Brisula plans. We’d also like to have any thoughts, suggestions, and advice you may have. Because frankly, we’re stuck. Anyhow, to start at the beginning, about twenty-four days ago, Admiral Wilcox called with an A-15 high priority order. This of course called for the strictest top secret procedures we have. Captain Stoner was to select a six member landing party who would be sworn to secrecy and under the threat of death for treason.” Loring stopped for a moment to adjust the watch on his wrist. The metal band was pinching his skin. He was about to continue when he suddenly glanced up at Diane.
“Um, Diane, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m already committing treason by telling Dennis all this. I don’t think it would be wise for you to hear it also.”
“Do I have to go?” asked Diane, looking at Denny.
“I think Paul is right, dear. But you stay here. Paul and I can go over to his room.”
As Pearson and Loring walked down the hallway to 9-17, Loring’s quarters, Pearson apologized for his quick temper and hasty conclusions. Loring convinced him that there were no hard feelings on his part or Andrews’. Pearson began to say something about Andrews’ attitude when they reached 9-17. Once inside Loring continued the conversation on Brisula.
“As you know, the landing party consisted of me, Captain Stoner, Dave, Hampton, Shasta, and Ensign Glenna. As you also know, shortly after we arrived on Brisula, Hampton and Glenna were found dead, presumably killed by Hampton himself. What you don’t know is that their bodies are fakes, made of—”
“You mean they’re alive? Then the Captain’s body is a fake, too. That’s what you meant before when you said he had disappeared.”
“Exactly. Another thing you don’t know is that the Tradians know of the Brisula Project Plans. Someone in the landing party leaked out the information. We know now that it was most likely Hampton and Glenna, but we don’t know how or why.”
“What are the Brisula plans?”
Loring took a deep breath, glanced around the room, and then beckoned Pearson to get closer to him. He then whispered, “United Galaxy Command had Brisula pegged for a hidden research site commissioned to perfecting the refinement of Xanthommatin.”
Pearson let out a long whistle. “No wonder it was an A-15 order.”
Loring filled him in on the results of the futile search he and Andrews made on Brisula both before and after the Captain’s disappearance and on the plans for a larger search party.
“What makes you think they are underground?”
“Dave feels that is the only logical assumption since our surface search has revealed nothing. Unless you have any suggestions, that’s our next step.”
Josh Stoner and Wayne Shasta were strapped into two very large leather chairs. A technician in brown coveralls was setting some dials on a nearby console. After a few final adjustments, he switched on an intercom and said, “General Platt, everything is ready.”
The door to the small chamber burst open a moment later, and a large six foot tall soldier dressed in the green uniform of a Tradian general entered.
“Ah!” smiled General Platt. “Who do we have here?”
“I am Captain Joshua Stoner of the U.S.S. Gladiator, and this is my officer Lieutenant Wayne Shasta.”
“What are you doing on Brisula?”
“We’ve come looking for two of our officers who are missing.”
“Come now. You can do better than that. Your officers’ bodies were removed from this planet by your own crew.”
“We discovered that the bodies were fake, and we came back to find our officers.”
“Why were your officers on this planet in the first place?”
“We were just visiting.”
“Why this planet?”
Stoner was not sure exactly what or how much information Glenna and Hampton had turned over to the Tradians. He certainly was not going to take the chance of telling them something they may not have already known. He decided to answer the question casually. Nonchalantly. It didn’t work. His answer came out with sarcasm. “We happened to be flying by, and we saw a vacant planet, and we stopped to take a look.”
General Platt raised his left index finger, and the technician pressed a button on the console. A bolt of electrical current went through Stoner’s left arm which was strapped to the armrest of his chair. He grimaced.
”Don’t get smart with me!“ snapped the General.
”I swear to you,“ said Stoner. ”That’s the honest truth.“ He braced himself for another painful zap of electricity, but it didn’t come. Instead he heard a gasp from Shasta in the chair next to his.
”Perhaps your young officer here will tell me what I want to know.“ The technician pulled a lever, and this time a bolt of electricity flowed through Shasta’s right leg. The two men in the chairs said nothing, and the technician pushed another control lever. Shasta muffled a cry as the current flowed through both his arms. Still they said nothing, and the technician kept pushing buttons and levers. The electric bolts were getting stronger and harder to bear. Shasta never knew where the next one would be. His right arm, left leg, head, back, both legs. He wanted to scream and shout. The pain was so intense. Damn, he couldn’t scream in front of Stoner. But maybe if Stoner knew how bad the pain was. No, he couldn’t scream nor could he expect Stoner to hand over top secret information solely on his account. He continued to endure the zaps trying to let his mind drift away from the present. He could see the beautiful fall colors back home in Vermont. The leaves were a
lovely orange and brown. Becky was standing under the huge sugar maple in the front lawn.
”I wish you didn’t have to go,“ she was saying.
”You know I must,“ he answered. ”Just remember how much we love each other. And dream about the time when we’ll be together.“
A massive bolt of current in his left knee brought him back to his present predicament. This time the pain was too much and he screamed out.
”OK,“ said Stoner, who had been waiting for a sign from Shasta that the treatment was getting too rough, ”what exactly is it that you need to know?“
”Why were your officers on this planet?“
”You apparently got that information from my other two officers. What more do you want?“
”Ah, I want the pleasure of hearing you give in to my little session here. It gives me great satisfaction to have an enemy squirm and cower in my presence; especially the Captain of such a mighty and powerful vessel like the U.S.S. Gladiator.“
”Never!“ said Stoner. ”You Tradians are always trying to control others. Haven’t you learned by now that control is not the way to gain power? Trust and respect are much better tools to use in getting others to follow you.“
”Enough!" roared Platt. He raised his left index finger, and the technician began working the controls again. Shasta gritted his teeth determined to endure the pain as best as he could. He would not scream again.
The General did an about face and left the chamber. The technician continued to apply a series of electrical currents to Shasta’s body. After thirty-four minutes he stopped and left the room.
CHAPTER SIX
May 27
The excavation crew was standing by ready to enter the Conveyor chamber. Commander Pearson was arguing with Dave Andrews at the other end of the room near the Conveyor control panel.
“I just don’t think this is a good idea,” Pearson was saying. “We’ve already lost four top men. It’s crazy to send more men down there, when we don’t know where they’re disappearing to.”
“Look,” Andrews argued back, “those four officers have disappeared on that planet, and we need to find out how and where. We cannot do that unless we are down on the planet searching.”
“Can’t we just hold off a wee bit on the search party?”
“I don’t think we ought to—”
“Damn it, Andrews! I thought you had more brains than to go off on a half-baked scheme without weighing all the alternatives.”
“There are no alternatives.”
“There are always alternatives. Have you researched the problem thoroughly? Have you sat down and tried to conceive of a reasonable explanation for why all of this is happening?”
“I think Dennis is right,” said Dr. Loring coming up behind them. “Perhaps it is foolhardy to risk more lives down there without really knowing what we’re getting into.”
“OK,” sighed Andrews, “we’ll postpone the search party temporarily. But I think we are wasting precious time. Lieutenant Commander, where would you suggest we start looking for some answers?”
Well, imagine that, Pearson was thinking. He’s actually going to listen to me for once.
“I suggest that we try to find out all that we can on Xanthommatin, on Brisula, and on the Tradians,” responded Pearson. “Commander Andrews, can you gather together a dossier on that information, and present it to us in, say, three hours?”
“Yes, I’m sure I can. I will require the assistance of Chief Warrant Officer. Greene. Meanwhile, Pearson, you have the command. We will convene at 0900 in the Conference Room.”
People wearing chains around their legs were polishing the silver walls as Stoner and Shasta were led down the corridor. The two Brisulan guards dressed with silver breastplates directed them down a long narrow corridor. Halfway down the hallway they made a sharp left turn. The silver walls were gone, replaced by stone and dirt. In front of them was a steel mesh gate over ten feet tall. Barbed wire ran across the top of the gateway. The guards escorting the two Gladiator officers stopped at the foot of the gate. One of the guards removed a ring of keys that was dangling from a leather bracelet on his wrist. This short plump guard fumbled with the keys until his chubby fingers located the right one. He placed the key into the padlock, twisted it, and slowly slid the gate open. They all entered and the steel gate banged shut behind them.
Stoner looked out at the array of massive cages lined up over the area. It reminded him of pictures he had seen of old zoos where animals were kept behind bars like prisoners. The animals in those pictures looked so sad, not like the ones in the zoos today who lived in a setting of their natural environment. The cages were all empty, but they had the appearance of being lived in. Piles of hay were on the ground of the cages, and Stoner could see the indentations of bodies in the straw. Welcome home, he thought to himself.
When they were taken prisoners Josh and Wayne’s zip guns and satellite phones were confiscated. Now they were ordered to remove their uniforms. Josh Stoner wondered how he was supposed to take his clothes off when he was shackled with leg chains and handcuffs. He soon had an answer. While one guard held Josh around the waist the other one affixed chains to the handcuffs binding Josh’s wrists. The chains were then attached to the bars of the cage they were standing near. The same procedure was performed on Shasta. The two officers’ leg chains were unlocked. Then their boots and socks were removed and replaced with flat canvas booties that were bound to their ankles with tight elastic strings. Their pants were tugged down and pulled off. They were given grey cotton shorts. The leg irons were replaced, but this time they were also fastened to the cage. The handcuffs came off. Their uniform tops were torn away. Josh and Wayne were told to put on some thin grey t-shirts that matched their shorts. A piece of stiff cloth with a number and a letter was stapled onto the center of the shirts. Now that they were dressed in their new uniforms the chains securing them to the outside of the cage were unclamped.
The pair were led over to a colossal cage on the far side of the expanse. A battered plaque hanging from one of the bars above the cage door read
The cage door was opened. One guard shoved the two officers in, and the other guard who had already entered the cage locked their leg chains into the hooks dangling from rusty chains hanging down from the top of the cage. Before exiting the guard reached over and pressed heavily against the Captain’s right shoulder blade. Josh felt something sharp pierce his skin, and he bit down on his tongue to stop himself from crying out. Finally the guard released his hand, and Josh saw a small silver circular disk with several pinholes embedded in his skin. He recognized it as a crude universal translator that had once been used by some space travelers. Science had advanced since then. Earth, like most civilized planets, belonged to the Amalgamation of United Planets and Solar Systems which now used the universal spoken language translator microchips consisting of tiny chips that were permanently implanted into a being’s body, usually during childhood. Surely, these guards should know better then to think we need to be outfitted with translators, thought Josh as he watched Wayne being injected. The cage door banged shut, and the two Gladiator officers watched as the guards hurried down the muddy pathway. Then they were alone.
Dave Andrews entered the large stately Conference Room and took a seat at the far end of the mahogany table. He skimmed over the report that he was holding. He had been able to get all of the information Pearson had requested, and he still had time to spare.
Drat that Pearson, interfering in my plans, Andrews thought to himself. He’s always looking for a way to gain brownie points. He knew that in this case, Dennis Pearson was perfectly right. Andrews’ only thoughts had been to find Josh. He had ordered a search party without first sitting down and analyzing the problem. Andrews could kick himself. It is bad enough that my foolishness was detected but for Pearson to be the one to expose me, is humiliating. He just did not like Pearson. Period. There was no getting around it. The man impressed him as an opportunist. Pearson’s only conc
ern was for himself. He wanted to rise through the ranks of United Galaxy Command not because he was dedicated to the cause and committed to the Navy, but rather due to his desire for personal fame and glory.
Andrews was different. He was totally committed to his career. He came from a long line of military personnel. There was never the slightest doubt in his mind that he would continue the family tradition. So far he had achieved a brilliant career. He whizzed through his college training and United Galaxy Command training in half the required time. Hard work and expertise came easily to him, and he rose quickly through the ranks to his present position of Commander aboard the U.S.S. Gladiator. Many people referred to him as brilliant, and he was aware of the reputation he had for being a stuffed shirt. He had a quest for knowledge and an eagerness to learn. He found he did not have time or interest in the things unrelated to his career. By avoiding these things which included relaxing, chatting with fellow crew members over coffee, attending entertainment activities, and dating women, he had isolated himself from the crew. But he had their respect and admiration as an officer, and that’s all he needed. His life now was complete. He enjoyed working under Captain Josh Stoner. Stoner respected him and relied heavily on his computer knowledge and technical abilities. Andrews had no desire to rise higher but if called upon to do so he would accept the promotion to captain unselfishly.
Just as Andrews was making some final adjustments on his notes, Paul Loring and Dennis Pearson entered the room. They took seats opposite of Andrews and gave him their full attention. Officer Jackson Greene trailed behind them.
Andrews got right into the matter at hand. “As Lieutenant Commander Pearson suggested, I, with the help of Officer Greene, prepared a full dossier on Brisula, the Tradians, and Xanthommatin. We will summarize the highlights of our report and then give you each a full hard copy. Officer Greene, please begin with a report on the Planet Brisula.”