by Ken Lozito
They entered the hangar bay, and Connor shoved the inner doors open. Thinking about meeting with Governor Parish was enough to ruin his mood.
There were fewer than a hundred people stationed on the platform, along with a fleet of robotic workers. Work on the final piece of the Ark had only just resumed after the project had been put on hold due to resource constraints.
They crossed the hangar bay to the dull gray shuttle with a golden sunburst painted on the side, the CDF emblem now faded from extensive use. They walked up the loading ramp and entered the transport. Connor’s protective detail was waiting for him.
Sean Quinn stuck his head out from the cockpit. “We’re cleared to leave.”
“Okay, let’s get going then,” Connor said and sat down near a window. He’d rather be meeting with Tobias Quinn, Sean’s father, who had been governor of the colony until the election last year. At least Tobias had given much more than provisional support to the CDF.
One of the perks that came with Connor’s rank was that he rarely had to fly himself anywhere. But the thing was, he missed flying. Reisman sat next to him, opened up his PDA, and brought up Connor’s schedule.
Connor glanced at the screen. “I’ll be right back.”
He climbed to his feet and headed for the cockpit, where he opened the door. There were two seats in front of the instrument control panel and an empty seat off to the side.
“Is this seat taken?” Connor asked and sat down.
The copilot’s eyes widened.
“All yours, General,” Sean said. “Flight check, Lieutenant.”
The copilot swung his gaze back to his station. “Cleared for takeoff, sir.”
“Acknowledged,” Sean said and informed the flight officer that they were ready for launch.
The shuttle lifted off, and the landing gear withdrew into the hull. Connor watched as Sean swung the nose about and took them out of the hangar.
“Let’s do a quick flyby,” Connor said.
“But, sir, we’re already pressed to reach Sierra in time.”
Connor looked at the copilot, and his identification appeared on his internal HUD—Lieutenant Anthony Frook, pilot assigned to the protector’s division of the Colonial Defense Force.
“They’ll wait,” Connor said.
Making the congressional committee wait wouldn’t increase his chances of getting what he needed, but Connor knew that even if he was on time he was unlikely to get what he needed.
Sean updated their heading and brought the construction site into view. Since they were using part of the Ark for the battleship carrier’s construction, the interior was already mostly laid out. There were some adjustments to the design that needed to happen to make her a military ship, but it was much quicker than starting from scratch.
“She’s coming along. Looks like they’ve already got some of the heavy cannons installed,” Sean said.
Connor glanced up and, indeed, saw the cannons. “Impressive looking but not worth anything without the ammunition tracks to arm the thing or the depot ready to even store the ammunition. I would much rather have had the missile tubes finished than the rail-cannons installed.”
Sean didn’t reply.
“Alright, take us to Sierra,” Connor said.
Sierra was the capital city of the colony on New Earth. Thinking of the colony led Connor to reflect on the humble beginnings of the compound that had been there before. As Sean changed the shuttle’s course and started heading toward the planet, the light from the sun illuminated the planetary rings that surrounded New Earth. Connor had long gotten used to seeing them, but they were still a stunningly brilliant display as well as a reminder that no matter what they called this planet, it was a very different place than what they’d left back home.
“Sir, we’re being hailed from the Vigilant,” Sean said.
Connor turned toward the main heads-up display. “Put him through.”
Captain Ian Howe appeared on screen. “General, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be ready for departure tomorrow. Captain Benson of the cargo ship is waiting for final approval to depart.”
“I delayed approval in hopes that there would be some extra things to be added to his manifest,” Connor replied.
Howe nodded. “That’s what I told him. CDF destroyers Banshee and Wyatt are on standby for escort duty.”
“This is the fun part,” Connor said.
Sean glanced at Connor but didn’t say anything.
“Since you have the extra time, make sure the Vigilant is fully stocked,” Connor said.
The sides of Howe’s face lifted upward. “Understood, sir. Vigilant out.”
Connor glanced at Sean. “Yes?”
Sean checked the shuttle’s approach to the planet. “Nothing, sir. I was just remembering when I first heard you say those words. The fun part, I mean.”
Connor nodded. Sean had been in the first class for Search and Rescue before he transferred to the CDF. He now led his own platoon, which was currently assigned directly to Connor.
“Then I’m sure you can guess what comes next,” Connor said.
“Wouldn’t be good at my job if I couldn’t at least anticipate your orders, sir,” Sean said.
Connor left the cockpit and returned to his seat. They were still another forty minutes out. To the casual onlooker, it appeared that Connor was taking a nap, but what he was really doing was using his implants to check that the plans he’d set up were in motion. Since there were so few people in the Colonial Defense Force with actual military experience, Connor went to great lengths to ensure that drills were as realistic as possible. He knew that all the training in the world could only go so far until a soldier was in the thick of it, but he aimed to get their soldiers as ready for action as he could. If that meant an excessive amount of training and mock execution of tactics, then so be it.
2
The shuttle made its final approach to the CDF airfield located at Sierra. The sprawling city and expansion projects were enough to keep most of the predators at bay. They didn’t live behind electrified fences anymore, thanks to the countermeasures they’d developed to dissuade predators from getting too close. There were also deterrent systems in place that helped defend Sierra’s denizens until Field Operations and Security could arrive.
The shuttle landed, and Connor climbed out of his seat. Reisman went ahead of him to make sure ground transportation was ready. The shuttle door opened and a breath of warm, humid air blew inside the cabin. Connor preferred the settlements farther away, where the climate was significantly drier than it was here, but this was the cradle of civilization here on New Earth.
“Sir,” Sean called out to him, “there’s been another ancient city discovered farther inland. I was wondering if you’d heard about it.”
Connor frowned. “Any ryklars in the area?” The last time they’d found a city built by the alien civilization that used to live on this planet, they’d triggered a silent alarm. The local apex predators, known as ryklars, had begun hunting humans as a result. Once they’d disabled the alarm, the ryklars migrated to another area, and it had been years since any had been seen near Sierra.
Sean shook his head. “No, and no defense mechanism to call them in either.”
Connor walked down the ramp and saw that there was no ground transport waiting for them.
“They’re requesting that an aerial scan of the alien city be performed,” Sean said and then glanced away to speak to someone through his comlink.
Connor checked the time.
“Should be here in a few minutes,” Reisman said.
Connor started walking and the other men followed. He glanced at Sean. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I thought you’d be interested,” Sean said and looked away guiltily.
Connor quickened his pace. He knew what Sean was implying. He hadn’t seen Lenora in months.
“And the things the archaeological team discovered could have—”
“That’s e
nough, Captain,” Connor warned. “I don’t have time to placate the people who spend all their time digging in the dirt—not when there’s a colony to defend. If they’re in trouble, the request should go through Search and Rescue. If they want a survey done, that request goes through Field Ops and not the Colonial Defense Force.”
Connor didn’t wait for a reply. A ground vehicle that had been barreling its way toward them came to a stop. Connor opened the door and climbed inside. “What the hell took you so long? I hope you can find the congressional building faster than you picked me up.”
The driver apologized, and Wil Reisman took the front seat.
Connor opened the window and looked at Sean. “Make sure the shuttle’s refueled and ready to leave. I don’t plan on being planet-side for long.”
The vehicle pulled away, and Reisman turned around with a question on his lips.
Connor held up his index finger. “Don’t!”
Reisman frowned and turned back around. Connor was tired of people prying into his personal life. With the safety of New Earth resting squarely on his shoulders, he didn’t have much time for relationships, despite the colonial mandate that encouraged procreation among the colonists. Family units in the colony were very different from what they’d been back on Earth. There were children and their immediate parents, but families were also reinforced by extended families and support groups that greatly eased the colonists’ burdens of raising children. Education programs were geared toward learning about New Earth, and most things that had comprised Connor’s life until seven years ago were referred to as Old Earth history.
While he had a strong connection with Lenora Bishop, she had no interest in having children. She was dedicated to learning all she could about the alien civilization that had thrived here. Most archeologists believed that intelligent life had flourished here from a few hundred to a thousand years before humans arrived. The debate was still ongoing about what had happened to them. But Connor was more concerned with the impact of what that civilization had done to the ecosystem of the planet. Predators like the ryklars and berwolves had been genetically modified, which made them highly intelligent and quite dangerous. The ryklars had abandoned this part of the continent and migrated away once the alien signal that triggered some latent protection protocol within them had been removed. At that point, ryklars had ceased attacking humans. Berwolf hunting packs required more persuasion, but there were some groups living far away from the cities that sought to tame the predators.
The vehicle drove along the paved streets of Sierra. The shimmering, bronze-colored buildings were constructed of a refined alloy they’d discovered among the alien ruins. It was light and strong. The resulting city looked familiar—since the architecture was similar to what they’d had back on Earth—but also alien as well, due in part to the materials used in the construction of the buildings.
They drove toward a large dome-shaped building where the golden sunburst flag draped unmoving in a windless sky. The vehicle pulled to a stop and Connor opened his own door. He and Reisman climbed the stairs and entered the building. Connor sent his credentials along the network, and they quickly passed through the security checkpoint.
A handsome older woman waited for him. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and her thick brown hair was pulled back.
“Trying to make an entrance by arriving late?” Dr. Ashley Quinn asked and made a show of looking behind Connor. “And you didn’t even bring Sean with you.”
“No, Mother, I didn’t bring him up,” Connor replied.
“Mother?” Ashley snorted and arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m certainly not your mother, but I would accept the role of big sister.”
Connor leaned in and kissed Ashley on the cheek as she patted his arms. “Well, in that case, I think we’re fine then.”
Ashley eyed him for a moment. “I know you only need two hours of sleep, but you’re looking a bit worse for the wear.”
“Why is it that whenever I have to come to one of these things it’s you who gets to walk me inside?” Connor asked.
“I figured you’d want to see a friendly face before you get fed to the lions,” Ashley said.
They walked through the wide-open atrium, and echoes of conversations gathered above them like a storm.
“At least Tobias believed in the threat we’re facing, unlike the current governor,” Connor said.
“Parish was the one voted in,” Ashley replied.
“By telling people what they wanted to hear,” Connor said with a grumble.
They reached the large metallic doors that led to the congressional chambers.
“Well, make them listen, just like you made all of us listen seven years ago,” Ashley said.
She entered the chamber first.
“At least you guys were reasonable,” Connor called out after her.
She didn’t turn around, but Connor knew she’d heard him. His mouth drew downward and he glared at the doorway, waiting for his queue to be allowed inside. Franklin Mallory had insisted that Connor come to this meeting to make the request. Many colonists didn’t want to listen to conversation about the proposed danger coming from Earth; they’d prefer to pretend the threat didn’t exist. It hadn’t always been this way, but the faction that questioned the threat from Earth had gained more and more support over the years.
They called his name. Connor blew out a breath and waited an extra few seconds before going inside.
3
Connor entered the chamber to the quiet murmurings of those inside. All the seats in the vast chamber were taken, and there were even people standing in the back. Connor squared his shoulders and strode down the center aisle. The far wall showed an image of the Ark with the Earth in the background and then changed to the Ark with New Earth in the background. New Earth was similar in size and composition to Earth, but where there were several large continents on Earth, New Earth boasted a singular large landmass that occupied nearly a quarter of the planet. Vast oceans covered the rest. The most striking difference between the two planets was the rings that surrounded New Earth. They made for a beautiful sight from any perspective.
Connor walked through the gated threshold and stopped at the central podium, where he looked at the trio of people who led the colony. In the center was a thin man who, though not a particularly imposing person, had managed to convince a majority of the colony to give him the job of governor—Stanton Parish. To his right was the former governor, Tobias Quinn, who was now serving as the head of the judicial committee. To Stanton’s left was a dark-skinned woman with long black hair and intense eyes, Selena Brown, who was head of the legislative committee in charge of proposing the laws of the colony.
A woman came through the gates behind Connor and went to stand at another podium nearby. Connor had no idea who she was, and she seemed to regard him as someone she’d rather not have in her presence. Connor thought she must be a Parish loyalist.
Governor Parish started the meeting, and the people in attendance immediately quieted down.
“Thank you for joining us, General Gates,” Parish said.
Connor cleared his throat. “I appreciate you taking the time for this request.”
“For the sake of this session, can you please touch on the high points of this request for the record,” Parish said.
Connor cleared his throat. “Space Station Titan has been completed for over a year and is currently running at half capacity because we haven’t been given approval for the resources to bring up the secondary power generator,” Connor said.
Governor Parish examined a small holoscreen in front of him. “Yes, I’ve seen this request come across my desk before. We delayed this in favor of expanding the power grid supplying New Delphia.”
Connor mused that this was good for the colonists living in that growing city but bad for the Colonial Defense Force’s state of readiness.
“Given the members of this appropriations committee, I didn’t think I needed to remind yo
u of the threat we face. Titan Space Station represents our first line of defense,” Connor said.
Governor Parish narrowed his beady eyes. “Potential threat, General.”
Connor’s brows pulled together and he glared at the man.
Parish held up his hand. “I know you don’t agree, but, if anything, the last election has proven that not all the people on New Earth agree that the messages received from Earth imply that we’re in any danger. They are quite disturbing, I’ll grant you that, but there are simply too many unknowns to commit the resources of the entire colony toward efforts that don’t best serve the problems we’re facing today,” Parish said.
Connor leveled his gaze at the governor. “You and I have vastly different opinions on how the colony would be best served, but what you’re doing is negligent.”
There was a sharp intake of breath by the people nearby.
The woman at the nearby podium looked at him. “We’ve refuted the standing argument that the offline deep-space buoy network is an indication of an invading force making its way toward this star system.”
Connor frowned. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Dr. Gabriela Mendoza, astrophysicist.”
“Dr. Zabat had a different opinion,” Connor said.
“I’m well aware of what my predecessor thought. I’m afraid that the partial message, coupled with the data we’ve received, influenced his judgment,” Dr. Mendoza said.
Connor looked back at the governor. “I thought I was here to address my request for Titan Space Station, not to debate the last message from Earth.”
Governor Parish regarded Connor for a moment. “I think it’s important to revisit it since what you’re requesting represents a significant investment of resources that could be better utilized elsewhere. Dr. Mendoza, please.”