Emergence

by Ken Lozito

  Noah set his coffee mug on the desk. “I need your help with something I’m doing for Connor.”

  “Alright, I’ll do what I can. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  Noah gave Franklin a long look. “It’s a sensitive issue that’s related to Connor, but I can’t go into details.”

  Franklin’s eyebrows drew down in concern, and his mouth formed a grim line. “Is Connor in trouble?” Franklin said, shaking his head. “On second thought, when is he not in trouble? And by the look on your face, you must be caught up in this, too.”

  “I need your expertise. I’m trying to find some people, and they’re good at hiding their location.” Noah had to choose his words carefully, and it was starting to irritate him.

  “Noah, this is me. I practically watched you grow up here on this world. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? This sounds quite serious.”

  “I can’t.”

  Franklin leaned back in his chair and blew out a long breath. He glanced at Dash for a moment and then again at Noah. “You know, I used to be in law enforcement before I joined the Ark program, so I’m well aware that people like you only want to find someone because they’re up to no good. I can’t think of another reason why you or Connor would be looking for them. The fact that you’re not going to Field Ops indicates that this is even more serious than I thought. But you obviously feel you can’t tell me exactly what you’re looking for, and I have no choice but to respect that.

  “I know you, Noah. You’re a good man. Ordinarily, I would trust your judgment, but the events… The NEIIS have changed things, and I’m worried that I’m seeing changes in you that aren’t good. I wasn’t there, but I understand these things can become quite complicated rather quickly.”

  Noah sat stone-still and met Franklin’s gaze in silence. He almost didn’t trust himself to speak.

  “A lifetime ago when I used to do investigations, I learned to go back to the basics, especially if someone’s trying to hide their presence. If the target is mobile or they’re working off the grid, they’ll need supplies and transportation. That’s what I’d look for first, and that’s what I could have my people look for if you want.”

  Noah swallowed hard. “I appreciate the offer, and I’m sorry for not being able to tell you more, but Connor wants us to play this close to the chest. The fewer people involved, the better.”

  Franklin ran his hand along his desk, and it made a swishing noise. “It seems that this is a day for giving advice.”

  Noah frowned. “I imagine you give advice all day long.”

  Franklin let out a soft chuckle. “Not everyone takes it though,” he said and glanced toward the pictures on his desk. There was a picture of his three-year-old boy smiling at the camera, but Franklin’s gaze lingered on the image of his older son.

  “Thank you for your advice. I promise I’ll tell you what’s going on at some point, but I need to check this out first.”

  The disappointment on Franklin’s face hit Noah like a blow. He felt stuck in the middle. No matter what he did, he was going to disappoint someone, and he found himself wanting to share these feelings with his wife.

  He and Dash left Franklin’s office.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Dash asked quietly.

  The young man glanced meaningfully at Noah, indicating he was trying hard not to say what he really meant. Noah had initiated his recon program the moment they entered the building, and he’d collect whatever data it had found on their way out.

  “Yeah,” he said softly, with a hint of bitterness.

  For now, it felt like they were getting closer to whoever was spying on them—the same ones who incidentally could be those who’d also stolen the NEIIS stasis pods—but Noah had a fleeting moment of just wanting to go home. This path he was on was going to take him in a direction he didn’t want to go. He glanced at Dash. The young man probably didn’t yet realize where the path they were on would lead, and Noah promised himself that he’d try to protect him for as long as he could.

  15

  Gordon Summers sent Connor the rendezvous coordinates early in the morning, but his instructions indicated that they shouldn’t arrive before the middle of the day—something about making arrangements and getting the right people to the site. Connor realized that the scientist’s choices at this point didn’t include something as simple as loading everyone onto the troop carrier and going straight to the coordinates. Gordon was sticking his neck out in order to enlist Connor’s help.

  They left New Haven by midmorning, and once they were a hundred kilometers away, Connor planned to deploy a decoy drone. Field Ops could track almost any vehicle, with the exception of specialized CDF ships designed for stealth, and they could also task a satellite to track them once they were beyond initial scanner range using special tracking protocols. Connor knew all those protocols since he’d helped set them up during the early days of the colony. He also knew how to fool those systems, and he didn’t want to alert Mayor Larson that he would be traveling anywhere near the NEIIS site Gordon Summers had discovered.

  Carl Flint sat in the pilot seat, and Connor glanced at Diaz. “You used to complain that we didn’t have another pilot on our team.”

  Diaz snorted and then shook his head. “That was like ten years ago.”

  Connor nodded. “Well, I just want you to acknowledge that I finally delivered on my promise. I have a new pilot from the pilot store,” he said and drank some water from a container.

  “I don’t know how Lenora puts up with you. Do you remember every single thing that happens to everyone around you? Never mind, don’t answer. I don’t want to know. But if you’re keeping score, you’re nine years too late. That’s all I got to say about that.”

  Connor grinned, and even Flint joined in.

  “How far do you want me to fly before we start heading to the coordinates from Summers?” Flint asked.

  “Let’s take it to a hundred kilometers, and then we’ll deploy the drone. Sensors aren’t as sensitive at that range,” Connor replied.

  Lockwood cleared his throat and gave Connor a worried look. “Standard sensor suites should be able to track the ship with a high degree of accuracy that a decoy drone wouldn’t be able to mimic.”

  Diaz glanced at Connor. “Is the kid right?”

  “Yes, he’s right.”

  Connor didn’t say anything else, and Lockwood flashed a worried glance at Diaz.

  Flint twisted around in his seat, looking for some indication of what action he should take. “So what are we doing here? Do I need to keep going, or what?”

  Diaz narrowed his gaze, trying to judge how far Connor was going to push this latest battle of wills.

  “Hello,” Flint said emphatically.

  “Mr. Gates, sir, if we deviate from course, they’ll know about it,” Lockwood said.

  Connor felt a smirk tugging on the edges of his lips. “Is the decoy drone ready?”

  “What about the scan—” Flint began to say.

  “The drone,” Connor said.

  Flint jabbed his finger at the controls that brought up the drone status. “Yes, it’s ready, but what about what Lockwood said? We only have one of these drones.”

  Connor kept his gaze on Diaz.

  “You’re something else. Will you stop?” Diaz said.

  “Do you know why it’s going to work?” Connor asked, breaking eye contact with Diaz to look at Lockwood and Flint. His gaze lingered on Lockwood for a moment. “No?”

  Lockwood shook his head. Connor folded his arms in front of him and leaned against the doorway. “You know, I bet Sean would be able to figure this out. Wil Reisman, too, but then again, Wil was the one who showed me some of this stuff.”

  Connor watched as Diaz’s brows pulled together in concentration. Diaz normally liked a challenge, but this morning he didn’t appear to be in the mood.

  Diaz looked at Flint. “It’s going to work.”

  “You’re right about that,” Con
nor said and arched one eyebrow. “I was just wondering if anyone else besides me knew why it would work. I bet Noah could figure it out. Hell, I know Lenora could figure it out, and she neither has the training you guys have nor did she specialize in a field that has anything to do with drones and communication systems,” he said, looking at Lockwood.

  Lockwood’s eyes widened when he finally figured it out. Connor gave him a nod and gestured toward the others. “It’s the decoy drone,” Lockwood began. “The broadcast from the drone also communicates with the tracking satellites, then overrides them or feeds them a correction in the detection protocols that specify the trooper carrier, even though it is, in fact, a weaker signal. Quite clever.”

  Connor smiled and patted Lockwood on the back. “Points for the new guy. He showed all you guys up, and you’re the professionals. Just remember, there’s always a link that keeps all these bits of technology joined together, and it’s that vulnerability that can always be exploited. Remind me to tell you guys about a mission we had where we were chasing down a smuggling operation that was based on one of Jupiter’s moons. They had an army of these decoy drones that were playing hell with our sensors.”

  “I haven’t heard that story before,” Diaz said. “Is that the one Wil kept referring to as ‘chasing shadows in the dark’?”

  Connor nodded. He missed Wil Reisman. He’d been the Ghost’s intelligence officer and a good friend. He’d had no end of funny stories to tell and had a knack for keeping the platoon grounded—a skill set not noted on anyone’s record, but a crucial skill that not every platoon Connor had served with possessed. That balancing force that could make a group of people cohesive in their efforts to achieve an objective could make all the difference.

  Thoughts of Wil inevitably brought on memories of Kasey Douglass and the other Ghosts who had died during the Vemus War. He would always miss them, but enough time had passed that the pain wasn’t as raw as it once had been, and he found that he could enjoy their memories without the bitter loss of their passing.

  “Decoy drone deployed. Changing course in five minutes,” Flint said.

  Diaz eyed Connor for a moment. “You hardly ever talk about them. I’m surprised you mentioned them now.”

  “They should be remembered, and I don’t mean as veterans or in monuments. I mean the actual men—who they were, their good qualities, their bad ones, warts and all. It’s what made them great,” Connor said.

  Diaz pounded a fist on his chest. “Never forgotten.”

  The sentiment was repeated by Flint and Connor. Lockwood looked at all of them, uncertain of whether he should join in.

  “It’s alright,” Connor said, setting the young man at ease.

  Flint did a five-second countdown and stopped the troop carrier’s broadcast signal, confirming the decoy drone’s signal. He then altered course and increased their velocity. The drone would continue onward until it reached Sanctuary.

  The rendezvous coordinates matched the shoreline of the inland sea over forty kilometers from New Haven.

  “A little place pretty far away, wouldn’t you think?” Diaz asked.

  Connor shrugged. “It wouldn’t do for us to show up where everyone else is.”

  They found an open area a short distance from the waterline, and Flint set the troop carrier down. He then proceeded with the shutdown sequence to power down the ship. Connor peered out the window at the calm waters of the inland sea and the clear blue sky overhead. New Earth’s rings were close to the horizon.

  “I know we got the coordinates right. Where’s Summers?” Diaz asked.

  “He’ll be here,” Connor said.

  “I’m sure he’ll want to be here, but what if the mayor sends a few of her people to the NEIIS site just to check on things? That would throw a monkey wrench in Gordon’s plans,” Diaz said.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Gordon doesn’t strike me as the type to tolerate things like that, or I’ll bet he’s accounted for it in his plans. Why else would he have us arrive in the middle of the day instead of first thing in the morning?”

  Lockwood leaned toward the window. “I admit I don’t know anything about the creatures that live in the water here, but those shapes are pretty big.”

  Connor looked out the window and saw several long, dark shadows pushing the water from just below the surface, heading right toward them. The rounded front broke out, cutting through the calm waters. Connor’s enhanced vision easily picked out the details. Smiling, he looked at the others. “That’s why we didn’t find it. Gordon has located a NEIIS city under the water.”

  16

  Analysis of Gravitational Anomaly: Dr. Oriana Evans

  Probable cause is equipment failure. Recommendation is a complete physical analysis of the main sensor array. Engineering recommendation is to shift the secondary array systems while the primaries can be properly vetted.

  Sean swiped the report off the holoscreen and shook his head. “Equipment failure,” he grumbled.

  “Apologies, Colonel, but I did not understand that,” Gabriel said.

  Sean leaned back in his chair and sighed, glancing up at the ceiling of his quarters. “Gabriel, can you tell me the last time a sensor array failure ever caused the detection of phantom gravitational waves?”

  “According to colonial records, it has never happened. I’ve submitted a query to CDF COMCENT, which also has no known incidences where this particular type of failure has occurred,” Gabriel answered.

  It’d been two days since they’d detected the gravitational waves, and none had been detected since. As a precautionary measure, he’d ordered engineering teams to physically inspect the array. They’d even sent repair drones to the outer array, and the results were that all the parts were in perfect operational order. There was nothing wrong with the damn sensor array.

  “Colonel, if I may. Dr. Evans does imply that the failure might not be equipment related.”

  Sean frowned. “Are you sure you don’t need a diagnostic run on yourself, Gabriel? The report says right at the top that the probable cause is equipment failure.”

  “It does, but the findings also indicate that this was the best guess in light of current evidence.”

  “The lack of detection from anywhere else in the star system.”

  “Precisely, Colonel. My analysis of Dr. Evans’ report is that she was equally frustrated by this probable root-cause analysis.”

  Sean stood and stretched his arms in front of him. “Well that makes two of us,” he said while thinking about the things the official report hadn’t said. “I need to talk to her.”

  “Shall I open a comlink for you, Colonel?”

  “No, thank you. I’m just thinking out loud,” Sean said.

  “Understood, Colonel. Might I inquire as to what you would like to ask Dr. Evans?” Gabriel asked.

  Sean knew the Vigilant’s AI was programmed to be inquisitive so it could learn to better serve. The relationship had to be fostered so Gabriel could become more effective at his job, and Sean didn’t mind it as much as some of the other officers. Gabriel’s capabilities allowed them to crew a ship the size of the Vigilant with forty percent fewer people and do it even more efficiently than traditionally crewed ships of the NA Alliance, although the range of efficiency was partially theoretical since it was also dependent on how the crew and the commanding officer utilized Gabriel.

  “The report read like any other standard report and didn’t have much in the way of alternative explanations for the anomaly. I don’t need another standard report. I was hoping to get more from Dr. Evans,” Sean said.

  “This is a preliminary report, and Dr. Evans has been focused on the Apollo Mission,” Gabriel supplied helpfully.

  Sean nodded. He had a sneaking suspicion that this preliminary report would become the permanent report and that the investigation’s priority might lessen, according to COMCENT. Sean didn’t like anomalies, especially those that fit within the convenient confines of equipment failure for which ther
e was no evidence. In the private sector of colonial systems, this problem would be referred to as a “glitch.” Granted, the Vigilant was still on a post-shakedown cruise, but she’d been cleared for active duty, which meant all systems were in working order. He wasn’t about to let this go, but—

  “Colonel, you’re about to be overdue on the bridge for the Apollo commencement.”

  Sean left his quarters and headed for the bridge. Once there, Major Brody relinquished the commander’s chair to him.

  “Apollo Mission is on schedule, and we’re ready to send the first swarm. Dr. Volker should be arriving soon,” Major Brody said.

  “Thank you, Major.”

  “Equipment failure with the sensor array?” Major Brody asked him quietly.

  “I don’t like it either,” Sean replied.

  “If I were grasping at straws, I’d wonder if it was related to the work we were doing at the front of the ship. I can’t think of anything specific that would cause the sensor to detect something like that, but...” Major Brody said.

  Dr. Volker came to the bridge with three members of his team whom Sean had briefly met on the main hangar deck.

  “Colonel, thanks to you and the help of your crew, we’ll be able to launch the mission as scheduled. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to address the crew of the Vigilant?” Dr. Volker asked.

  Sean nodded. “Ship-wide broadcast if you please, Specialist Sansky.”

  “Yes, Colonel. Ship-wide broadcast ready,” Sansky replied.

  “Crew of the Vigilant, I am Dr. Allen Volker. Colonel Quinn has allowed me to address you. As you know, the Apollo Mission was put together to find suitable star systems for future colonies. It was only after the project’s inception that we decided to add a significant star system to the mission. And though we will not receive any type of confirmation for over a hundred and twenty years, I know I’m comforted by the fact that we will at least receive some kind of information about the status of Earth—most importantly, whether humanity survived its conflict with the Vemus. I, for one, like to believe that there are still some of us left back home who found a way to survive. I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge the contribution of each and every one of you here today who helped make this happen and offer you my sincerest gratitude and appreciation.”