by Ken Lozito
Noah quickly brought up the troop carrier’s identifier and got conflicting reports. One report showed that it was currently at Sanctuary, but it was clearly the one the Field Ops team had found. That was Connor’s troop carrier.
“Connor and the others are missing,” Dash said.
Noah reviewed the report again and felt his stomach twist up into a knot. Only one of three underwater vessels had been found. He cursed inwardly.
“They must’ve found something. We’ve got to go help with the search,” Dash said and proceeded to buckle his seat belt. He looked at Noah. “What are you doing? We have to go.”
Noah closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “No, we’re not going.”
“Are you kidding? They must have been at a NEIIS site. Who knows what happened?”
“And there’s a Field Ops Search and Rescue team looking for them. The only thing we’d accomplish by going there would be getting in their way.”
He watched as Dash glanced at the report.
“But this is NEIIS related.”
Noah drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Calm down. Let’s get one thing straight, okay? Connor and Diaz and all the others with them can take care of themselves. It’s not like before when we were out in the field and didn’t have everything we needed. Trust me, wherever Connor is, he’ll be alright, or he’ll have enough firepower with him to mitigate most threats.”
Dash frowned stubbornly. “Lenora would want us to look for him.”
Noah pressed his lips together. He wanted to go look for Connor just as much as Dash did, and said so. “You know what he’d say, and I agree. What we’re doing is more important, and he’d want us to keep doing it because we’re the only ones who can do it. Can you imagine what his reaction would be if we stopped our investigation to go there and join the search?” Noah shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do there that isn’t already being done. What we should do is finish what we’ve started here, which is finding out who the hell is spying on us and also taking NEIIS stasis pods for God knows what reason. What do you think Connor would tell us to do?”
Dash’s lips lifted into a partial sneer, and the young man looked away.
“If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you, but I’m going to keep searching. So, what are you going to do?” Noah asked.
Dash looked at Noah. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Noah nodded. “Alright, let’s take a look at some of this new data.”
“Right here?”
“Yeah, we can work here for a little while. I doubt anybody is watching us right now.”
They spent the next few hours going over the data Noah had captured from Franklin Mallory’s office, but despite all of his clever filters and search algorithms, he wasn’t any closer to figuring anything out. If Franklin Mallory was involved, he was a criminal mastermind, because Noah couldn’t find any evidence linking him to anything illegal.
Dash sat next to him with his own set of sub-windows opened on the holoscreen. The young man grunted.
“What is it?” Noah asked.
“Mind if we go outside and stretch our legs for a minute?”
They climbed out of the C-cat and stood outside. It was almost evening, and they’d been at it for hours. It felt good to move around for a bit.
“Something Franklin said has been stuck in my mind. He said he hardly ever sees his son, that his son is always so busy. But according to the logs from the landing zone, Lars Mallory comes to Delphi quite frequently—almost once a week for the past several months,” Dash said.
Noah frowned and rubbed his eyes. He’d been immersed in the data on their holoscreens, and he was getting a little tired.
“Look at these log entries for different types of transports coming into the landing area. It shows he was here just a few days ago,” Dash said.
Noah glanced at the logs on Dash’s handheld device and noted the timestamps. He looked at Dash, but he could hear Connor’s voice in his mind telling him that in order to find out who was involved, they couldn’t trust anyone by default.
“I think you might be onto something,” Noah said.
“Maybe. What if he doesn’t get along with his father?”
“They’ve worked together for years, so I don’t think it’s that. It could be… I know he has to travel a lot for the Colonial Intelligence Bureau, but all the reasons you stated earlier about Franklin being a suspect could also apply to Lars.”
Dash frowned in concern. “Yeah, on the surface those do seem like good reasons, but I don’t know him. He’s your friend. Do you think he could do something like this or be involved in something like this?”
“I want to say no. Lars is on my short list of people I can trust, but we don’t have any other leads. So, let’s see what my friend has been up to.”
“If you want, I could look into this and just let you know what I find out. It’s probably nothing,” Dash offered.
Noah felt a faint smile tug at the edges of his lips. “It’s alright. We’ll do it together. This way, neither of us will jump to conclusions.”
They’d need somewhere to work besides the inside of his C-cat, so they’d have to find somewhere else close by.
Noah hoped Lars wasn’t involved in any of this. If it turned out that he was wrong, then they were in trouble because he’d told Lars what he was doing. Noah shook his head. They had to be wrong about this, but he couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if they did find evidence of Lars being involved. Noah prayed they’d find nothing, but now that Lars had come under his radar, he was calling everything into question.
25
“Crap,” Sims gasped. “It really smells out here.”
“Alder is on his way with something to help with that,” Connor said.
“An oxygen mask?”
“No,” Connor said, “a rag to tie over your face. He said it would be an improvement.”
Sims grinned and then coughed. “Tell him to hurry. I don’t know how much longer I can take it,” he said, sounding as if he was only breathing through his mouth.
Connor looked at Gordon. “Could there be a large carcass nearby? How big does the sea life get here?”
Gordon shook his head. They’d gotten the sonar to work. “There are big freshwater fish but nothing that would generate that kind of smell, unless there were a lot of them. You’d notice them though, and they’d show up on sonar, as well.”
Connor glanced at the main holoscreen. So far, the sonar hadn’t detected the other subs.
“It’s not a carcass,” Lockwood said while still reading the information on his holoscreen. “There are high traces of sulfur dioxide in the atmosphere, so it’s good they’re gonna be wearing masks. I’m surprised there haven’t been more complaints about their lungs burning.”
“Potter did say his eyes were getting irritated, but I didn’t think much of it,” Gordon said.
The recon drone was still sending back information. The fog hadn’t dissipated at all, and it was early evening.
“There’s something strange…” Lockwood said and then hesitated.
Connor walked over to him. “Just one thing?”
Lockwood blinked at him for a moment. “The atmospheric readings that show significant traces of sulfur dioxide? It’s higher than I’ve ever seen before on New Earth.”
“How would you even know?”
Lockwood patted a small metallic case next to him. “I bring my own data storage of things I think I’ll need because Noah has me working at all kinds of different places. Sometimes they’re quite remote. I also have the weather updates, along with a comparison of each year we’ve lived on New Earth. It’s sort of a hobby of mine.”
Connor nodded. “You think something caused this?”
“I have no idea, but it’s worth noting. Also, analysis based on the landmarks the drone has found estimates we’re located about ninety kilometers from New Haven,” Lockwood said.
“That’s not possible,” Gordon said, joining the
m. He looked at the data on Lockwood’s holoscreen. “The site is only thirty kilometers from New Haven. There’s no way we can be that far away now.”
Lockwood looked at Connor. “I checked three times.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not possible. Do you know how long it would take us to travel an extra sixty kilometers underwater?” Gordon asked.
“I have no idea,” Connor replied.
“Ninety minutes, and that’s if we had a straight shot to our destination.”
Connor looked at Diaz, who shrugged. Part of the video feed from the recon drone was showing on one of the smaller windows of the main holoscreen. Connor saw one of New Earth’s moons and frowned. He looked at Lockwood. “Do your weather reports include anything about the moons?”
Lockwood checked the report and shook his head.
“Why?” Gordon asked.
Connor pressed his lips together. “It just doesn’t look right.”
Gordon glanced at the holoscreen. “Looks fine to me. Who pays attention to the phases of the moon anyway?”
There was a moment of heavy silence on the bridge, and Connor felt an itch form between his shoulders.
Banks sat up in his chair. “Gordon, I’m getting a distress beacon from the other sub. It’s the Marlin Two. Nothing on the Minnow.”
Gordon raced over to the workstation. “Where are they?”
Connor used his implants to put the distress beacon signal on the main holoscreen. “Forty kilometers from here.”
“It’s just not possible. We can’t be this far away!” Gordon said, and opened the comlink interface. “Marlin Two, Marlin Two, are you receiving?”
Connor watched as Gordon tried three more times but received no response, and the distress beacon signal stopped. Connor looked at Lockwood. “Can you tell if they ran out of power, or did the signal just stop?”
Lockwood frowned. “How would I tell the difference?”
“One would indicate a lack of resources, while the other would stop in mid-signal broadcast,” Connor said.
Lockwood checked the logs and look back at Connor. “It was severed.”
Gordon stomped over to them. “Severed? What does that mean?”
“Can you pinpoint their exact location?” Connor asked.
“Answer me first. What does a severed connection mean?” Gordon said and glared at Connor.
“It means they might be in trouble,” Connor said.
Gordon’s face went pale, and as he spun around, his shoulders became rigid.
Connor looked at Banks. The man was wide-eyed with fear. “I think I can find them.”
“Good,” Gordon said, “because we’re going there as fast as we can.”
“No, we’re not,” Connor said.
Gordon swung around. “You’re not in charge here. You’re on my ship.”
“Listen to me. There’s something going on here that we don’t understand. We can’t rush into a situation we’re unprepared for,” Connor said, and Gordon started to walk away from him. Connor grabbed his arm. “We’re going after them. But you’re not equipped to do this safely. If you do it your way and they really are in trouble, things could get worse. We don’t even know why the signal was severed.”
Gordon tried to pull his arm away, but Connor held him. “Let go of me.”
Connor let him go, and Gordon sneered. Diaz stepped between them. “At ease,” Connor said softly.
Gordon glared at Diaz and then turned his gaze toward Connor.
“My own people are on that ship, too,” Connor said. “If they’re facing a situation, Flint can help protect the others, just like I’m going to do here.”
“This is my ship,” Gordon said, as if that was justification for everything.
Connor leveled his gaze at him. “Do you really want to push this?”
Gordon held his stare for a moment and then looked away.
“I’d much rather have your help, but I’m taking command of the ship. Do we have an understanding?”
Stephen Banks began to stand up.
“I suggest you sit back down,” Diaz said and gestured at the seat.
Banks froze for a moment, then raised his hands to his chest and sat back down.
“Nothing bad better happened to her,” Gordon said.
Connor nodded. “Let’s get the others back in here and come up with a plan. Banks, I want you to start heading for those coordinates, but go slow. Lockwood is going to work with you. He’ll use the drones to scout ahead while we come up with a plan.”
Connor opened the comlink to Alder and had him open the weapons case. Now they just had to figure out what they were dealing with.
26
Sean’s ready room was located near the bridge. In addition to an office for him or the on-duty CO, there was also a small conference room for meeting with senior staff.
“Colonel, we can’t rush this analysis. We’d be jumping to conclusions,” Oriana said.
It was just the two of them in the conference room, and neither of them had sat down yet. Sean rapped his knuckles on the table thoughtfully. “I want to avoid any knee-jerk reactions, but time is working against us.”
“Rushing leads to mistakes.”
“Waiting too long to act could cost lives.”
Oriana frowned uncertainly. “The ship is fine. We’re safe for the moment.”
“I wasn’t referring to us. I mean the salvage teams and everyone back on New Earth. Protecting the colony is our highest priority.”
Oriana nodded in understanding. The others soon joined them, except for Captain Webb, who was still in transit to the ship. Dr. Volker gave Sean a worried glance when he entered the conference room.
“I must admit, Colonel, I was surprised to get your summons,” Volker said.
“I need your expertise,” Sean replied.
Dr. Volker smiled. “You need the expertise of my team. I apologize for what occurred earlier. I’ve brought someone along who I think can help us, if that’s alright with you?”
“What’s their background?”
There was a knock at the door, but Sean ignored it, waiting for Volker to reply.
“He’s a planetary scientist. His name is Takemitsu Tokiwa, and Dr. Evans can also vouch for him. He was involved in organizing the data repositories for the Hermes probes—in particular, the protocols for surveying new planets.”
Sean nodded and gestured for Lieutenant Russo to open the door. A young Asian man walked in and smiled a greeting to Dr. Volker.
“Come in, Tokiwasan,” Dr. Volker beckoned.
“I came as soon as I was able,” Tokiwa said.
“Please have a seat,” Sean said and gestured to one of the empty chairs.
Tokiwa spotted Oriana and hastened over to sit next to her.
“Thank you all for coming,” Sean began. “Captain Webb will be joining us shortly. Normally this meeting would be held with just my senior staff. However, I believe that your input,” he said, directing his gaze toward the scientists, “could provide valuable insight. Dr. Evans’ presence on the bridge has been very much appreciated.”
Oriana’s cheeks reddened slightly and her heart rate elevated, which Sean noted on his internal heads-up display. He’d sent a command to Gabriel to record this meeting, and that included their biometric information. It was sometimes insightful for him to know the state of mind of the people under his command.
“Gabriel was able to provide an analysis of the new asteroid belt that now orbits Sagan. Lieutenant Russo, were you able to find any evidence as to the cause of the destruction of the moon?” Sean asked.
“The scanners show the current orbit of the new asteroid belt, but its stable distribution suggests that it’s not new. We’ve also had Gabriel run simulations of the individual asteroids, and we can get a partial picture of the fully formed moon. There are significant chunks of material missing, which indicates an impact of some sort, but not from any type of artillery fire.”
“Excuse me,” Dr. Vo
lker said. “Were you seriously considering that someone had purposefully destroyed the moon?”
Sean nodded. “We need to consider the most viable options. The Vigilant carries enough firepower to do the damage we’ve observed. Even when large asteroids impact a moon, the kinetic energy has the potential to cause major disruption, and given enough mass, they could cause total destruction. Then, there are our heavier warheads that could finish the job. Don’t get me wrong; we’re not in the habit of destroying moons. It would not only be a waste of resources, but it could also have disastrous effects on the planet.”
Captain Webb entered the conference room, and Sean invited him to give his report.
“We did several surveys of the area where the NEIIS settlement was known to have been. The area is even more unstable than it was before. Also, the landscape has changed beyond the volcanic activity. There are many more impact craters than there were before.”
“Those could be from when the moon broke apart,” Major Brody said.
Captain Webb pressed his lips together. “That’s possible.”
“Was there any sign that the salvage teams were there at all?” Sean asked.
“No one from my squadron detected any signs of any colonial activity. Other members of my team are on the far side of the planet and are still making their way back, but their preliminary reports indicate the same thing. It’s as if they were never even there. Colonel, what’s going on?” Captain Webb asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
“Captain,” Tokiwa said, “you’ve been to Sagan before, is that correct?” Captain Webb nodded. “Do the impact craters look recently created, or did they look to have been there for a while?”
Captain Webb thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. There’s no atmosphere on the planet, so I wouldn’t know how to determine how long an impact crater had been there.”
“Tokiwa,” Oriana said, “they were focused on finding the salvage teams and wouldn’t have been looking for signs of erosion on any of the craters. We could use our high-res optics to look for debris fields close to the craters, but it would still be difficult for us to make a quick determination as to how long the craters have been there.”