The Expanding Universe

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The Expanding Universe Page 45

by Craig Martelle


  "Manually restart the systems." Newman snapped. Backup lights flooded the area. Staff members hurried to the panels with backup power. The reset was first priority but it would still take time.

  Aaron swung his attention to Aylin; a cold brooding feeling rippled over his skin. For a moment he thought he might be hallucinating, but after another moment he realized it was all real. Deep beautiful electric blue eyes opened, unhurried by the demands around her. Aaron stood spellbound, frozen in place. Her gaze was almost otherworldly.

  Calm and gentle.

  A soothing balm in a storm of chaos.

  Her eyes closed again, this time rapidly as her chest expanded, the last of her air drawing into her lungs.

  Reality closed in at a death march, Aaron whirled.

  "How much longer?"

  "Three... maybe four minutes." One of the techs answered.

  "That's not soon enough." Aaron snapped. "She is awake. That is a good indication she can sustain life. We need to get her out of there."

  "I think you are jumping to conclusions, Mr. Walters," Newman said from his perch.

  "There is no indication that if we free her from the Amnion that she will be able to sustain a life force for more than a few moments. If that is the case, we cannot re-enter her into stasis. The manual restart will allow us to consider our options and run testing."

  "Three or four minutes has the likelihood that she will not walk away without severe brain damage or worse!" Aaron retorted.

  "It is a risk we will have to take," Newman said.

  "You're going to kill her!"

  "Our client expects results, Mr. Walters!" Newman snapped, his anger rising as rapidly as the red on his face. "We are on a deadline and cannot afford to be forced to restart this project."

  "If she dies you'll have to restart anyway, at least give her a chance at life!"

  "We will proceed as planned and it would be good for you to remember your place." Newman countered.

  Chapter 13

  A hopeless glance back at Aylin turned his blood cold. Her gaze danced around the lab, a shameless pleading in her body language.

  Almost irrational anger rushed through him; his fist tightened around the bar still in his grip. Without thinking, Aaron turned and dashed for the Amnion.

  Shouts from the staff faded as he drew back a hard swing. A small crack resonated through the air. Pain from the recent injury shattered over his back.

  "Mr. Walters, you will desist this instant!" Newman shouted.

  Beyond the point of caring, Aaron gritted his teeth and swung again. The shattering sound, along with the roar of rushing water rang over the quiet room.

  Aylin, wet, bare and gasping for air, landed in a heap on the floor. Her shoulders heaved from the effort of dragging life-giving air into her lungs.

  The yelling and curses from Newman dulled away. Aaron felt the strain of the hit to his back and neck to the point his whole body ached. Briefly, he wondered if the dulled sound, and the ringing in his ears were side effects from the trauma, but he dutifully dismissed it as he crumpled to the ground in pain.

  Glancing up to check on Aylin he was almost instantly caught up by the blue-eyed gaze, ripples of confusion and concern bounced like a shine over her eyes. Shifting forward, the woman steadied herself on her knees and slowly reached out.

  Without speaking she placed a light, gentle, touch to his forehead with a single finger.

  Warmth invaded his body. Spread through his limbs like a wildfire. The pain faded away. Strength surged back into him.

  Aaron opened his eyes in time to see a blue light fading from her finger.

  His brows knit in confusion, how was that even possible?

  Men and women converged, shuffling through the broken glass. Numbers and directions were shouted out as they wrapped Aylin’s naked form in a white lab coat to protect her from the cold.

  The sudden burst of activity seemed to panic her.

  Aaron stood to intervene but was met by the scowling face of Professor Newman.

  "Well, Mr. Walters, what do you have to say for yourself?"

  "She is alive." Aaron met the professor with a stone-like stare.

  He could almost see the steam rising from the old man’s collar as he spoke.

  "Quite frankly you are the luckiest man alive right now. We are still by no means out of the woods, but for now. you have managed to evade a crisis. Due to an abundant amount of stupidity in this endeavor you will take over Mr. Andell's duties. You will be responsible for her care and well-being and should you be wrong, Mr. Walters, and Aylin is incapable of sustaining life then you will be the one to pay the piper."

  "I'm honored... sir." Aaron tone stonily.

  Truth be told, he was decidedly happy to take the role. There was one thing to his favor. Newman had no idea of what knowledge he possessed. That gave him an edge.

  "See that she is situated, Mr. Walters." Newman chimed as he turned toward the door. "I will come by to study her personally this evening.

  Aaron watched him walk away.

  Some semblance of victory budded in his chest, small as it may be it was still a victory.

  As Newman passed Carl, Aaron caught his eye, mouth the words 'Thank you.’ Carl nodded, giving a tight-lipped smile before following the professor out.

  He turned his attention back to the team of techs starting to wrap up their investigations into Aylin's health. With a gentle, slow step he moved forwards.

  Apparently, the announcement that he was now the project lead hadn't gone unnoticed.

  Staff moved aside giving him room to approach.

  "Aylin....?"

  She stiffened a little catching his gaze with big frightened eyes.

  He couldn't help but notice that the unnatural shine seemed to have been replaced by something largely... human.

  "It's alright." He offered his hand. She glanced at him, brows forming a curious expression.

  "It's alright." He repeated softly.

  Her lips twitched into a wisp of a smile before she reached up and placed her hand in his.

  Epilogue

  Aaron sat back in his office chair rubbing his hand over his tired eyes. It had been close to six months since Aylin had taken her first breath. He was still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he had been shoved into a leadership position.

  The beep of the door interrupted his concentration. Aaron glanced up and blacked the computer screen before he turned back to his office desk.

  "It's open." He called.

  Carl slipped through the doorway with a grin.

  "How are you holding up?"

  Aaron let out an exhausted sigh.

  "About as well as overused tape,"

  "Aylin...?" Carl asked.

  "She is doing well. Learning quickly," Aaron smiled.

  Carl reached out and deposited a real, genuine file on his desk.

  “What’s this?” Aaron asked.

  “What you asked for,” Carl answered.

  Aaron opened the file.

  “Everything the systems have on the Gemini Project,” Carl said. “It looks like some of it is missing, but I compiled everything the system does have.”

  Aaron opened the file his eyes moving quickly over the official papers.

  "What's got you on the hamster wheel?" Carl asked suspiciously.

  Aaron chuckled at the comment. He reached forward brushing a hand across the computer screen. All of the information, as scarce as it might be, of the star seeder project was patterned out across the screen.

  "So that's what you've been up to," Carl muttered.

  "Thanks to the server you built for me. I wouldn't have dared attempt it on the GenisCorp servers."

  "What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

  "Anything relating to the Star Seeder project and the participants of the project themselves, there is so much I don't understand.”

  "Maybe you don’t have the information because... you’re not supposed to." />
  "What do you mean?"

  "Well," Carl shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe the reason you can't find much is because the information might be dangerous. Sort of.... like the modification regulation."

  Aaron glanced up at him with a mixture of confusion and stone-like gaze.

  "Think about it. If it were something that wasn't dangerous, don't you believe that this stuff would have just fallen into your lap by now?"

  The sharp beep of the Call Com ripped over the ensuing silence. Aaron held up a finger to Carl before he pressed the button on the desk to activate the screen in front of him.

  What he saw froze his blood in his veins. Black leather jacket and sharp features were the most noticeable at first. A young man with fair complexion and chestnut brown hair slicked back and tied, small untamed wisps of hair curled at the ends. But what really caught his attention, what he could never mistake in a hundred years, were the eyes. Deep golden eyes that flashed and danced with the same power he had seen in Aylin.

  "Aaron Walters?"

  The slight Norwegian accent spoke, the words sounding very different to someone who was mainly used to the New Ark way of speaking.

  "My name is Alexander Duskana.... I hear you've been looking for us." A slight smirk played over his features in response to their shocked expressions.

  More About E.R. Starling

  After a childhood spent in libraries, bookstores, and reading hideaways E.R. Starling couldn't deny she had lost the fight against an intense love of the written word. Beginning her writing career as just a hobby, it took her five years to finally give up the ghost. After that, she finally gave into the fact that she wouldn’t be happy without building a career from her love of books. See more at http://erstarling.wixsite.com/books where you can see all of Starling’s publications or join her reader list.

  Genre: Military Science Fiction

  An Attitude Adjustment by Taki Drake

  Never underestimate those around you. This military science fiction tale explores the surprises that the universe holds when alien races, colonization and society come together in a story of the relationship of command, the value of respect and building of teams. It highlights the risk of letting preconceived ideas cloud ones judgement. And why new officers should always listen to their noncoms.

  Corvus II

  It was a tranquil scene. Only a few clouds marred the deep blue of the sky. Double suns created a dappled shadow effect on the ground. Small sounds of the animals concealed in the surrounding woods created a peaceful and low-toned backdrop for the visual scene. In this pastoral setting, the small base camp, and the moving soldiers were the only jarring notes.

  There were sentries on patrol around the small encampment, set on perimeter watch and soldiers going in and out of an entrenched sensor station. The Imperial Marine and Explorer Corps personnel were professional and thorough in their actions, reflecting the countless repetitions. Two sergeants roved the area like wandering predators, stalking any lapse in professionalism. After all, the ImpMEC was an elite force. The sergeants were the practical enforcers for its standards, charged with making sure that no laxness marred any ImpMEC operation.

  It was the third day of planetary occupation for the platoon. ImpMEC Central Command had assigned Bravo Company to protect and rescue duty, aimed at the relief of a small scientific group that had come under threat on the planet, Corvus II. The commander of Bravo had selected the 3rd Platoon, under the command of Lt. Marcos.

  The assignment of a single platoon was all that seemed necessary. Corvus II had been peaceful and unchallenging since the initial exploration efforts had reported an unoccupied planet, years ago. Despite the concentrated action of ImpMEC, there still were few planets that were easily colonized. The discovery of a world that had no serious bar to colonization pushed Corvus II through rapid approval. Waiting lists of colonists ensured that the initial wave of settlements was accomplished in record time.

  In the three years since the planet was cleared for settlement, four initial colony sites had been established. There were no reported problems during that period with any geographic location, environment, or habitat. Even the outlying farms that had been established experienced no more disruption than would be expected in an agricultural environment on a new planet.

  The colonists were not idle when it came to further exploration of the world. They had extensively traveled the planet, surveying sites for additional towns and villages. With a population that was smaller than 15,000, they had not expanded into those locations. Instead, plans had been created for when the population increased again during the second wave of colonization. That event was expected within the next six months, after other significant milestones were reached.

  The initial planetary charter was in the process of modification. Ratification in the Imperial Assembly was well advanced. The planetary governor position was in the throes of candidate selection.

  A small group of scientists had traveled from the University of Petra to study an unusual plant that the colonists identified as a possible cash crop. The plant itself was innocuous, low-growing and dull-colored. However, it had certain medicinal properties that warranted study and evaluation. The xenobiology department at Petra had one of the most extensive libraries of such plants and had a field team that could be assembled quickly.

  The 12 scientists and four support people had found a location that was ideally suited to their research, although it was somewhat remote from the other groups. With no large predators, no poisonous fauna and the extensive xenobiology experience of the study team, the security overwatch was minimal. The researchers had settled in without a problem. Their weekly reports to the University included only glowing results on their main study area and no reports of problems with either the colonists or the environment on Corvus II.

  It was a major shock when the communications center in the main settlement city of Einsville received a “Mayday” call from the scientists. Reporting an attack by a group of large quadrupeds armed with some form of long-distance weapon, the panicked scientist on the radio was difficult to understand. What was clear from his speech was that three of the research group were dead and that four were severely injured. The embattled civilians were retreating into the most protected of their buildings and would await rescue. They would attempt to take the radio with them, but both their communications people were among the fatalities.

  Responding to the immediacy of danger, a shuttle from Einsville took off shortly after the call ended. Staffed with hunters and one peacekeeper, it was thought that whatever bizarre problem had panicked the scientists could be handled quickly. By the time the shuttle had traveled the 20 minute trip to the research base, the Einsville communications room was packed.

  The shuttle pilot was talking, “Einsville Control, we are approaching the research site clearing. There is no sign of strange animals on the path leading up to the site.”

  An excited voice could be heard in the background, indistinctly shouting. Apparently forgetting that his microphone was open, the pilot yelled, “What do you mean, centaurs? With rifles?!”

  What followed next would haunt the listeners. Screams, yells from friends and relatives. The sharp reports of projectiles and the shrill whine of damaged engines. It was evident from the cacophony that the shuttle was going down. Gasping breaths from the pilot continued to be broadcast as he fought the controls on his aircraft. Then a loud resounding smashing sound as the shuttle hit the ground.

  The pilot’s voice came on again, gasping around pain, half sobbing in anguish. “We were shot out of the sky. Four-legged uniformed soldiers. Maybe 20. Jory dead, Tom too.”

  His halting speech was interrupted by a harsh, demanding speech in a language totally unknown to any of the listeners. They heard the pilot attempt to talk to the speaker, “Please, why have you…” His disbelieving scream and the echo of a large explosion were the last things they had heard before the transmission ended.

  The Marines Have Landed

/>   The platoon initially landed in Einsville where Lt. Marcos had met with the mayor and council. It was apparent quite early in the meeting that the lieutenant had little respect for the civilian authorities. Considering that many of the colonists had a military background, the lieutenant’s patronizing attitude did not sit well with the Council. Being told that their problems would be solved by the platoon and not to worry by the young officer seemed pure platitude to the many people that had been living with the challenge of planetary settlement. This was compounded by the lieutenant’s refusal to even look at or acknowledge the information that had been gathered in the four days between Einsville’s call for help and the platoon’s landing.

  The colonists had been busy. Available arms had been distributed, the most remote of the farms had been closed down, and abandoned. Additional deployment of weather satellites increased the surveillance. Working round-the-clock with civilian equipment, pictures of the small group of soldiers had been winnowed from the monitoring records.

  It appeared to be a small group, numbering no more than 30 beings. Measuring against known flora, it was estimated that the four-legged creatures were about the size of a Morgan horse. It was clear that in addition to four legs that the creatures, nicknamed “Centrax,” also possessed two arms.

  The imagery was too indistinct to determine the exact nature and form of their weapons. However, a demonstrated range of over 200 yards had been captured on the surveillance imagery. The tired and angry people reviewing the recordings were unable to agree on the exact number of soldiers. Instead, they were divided into three camps. The first insisted that there were only approximately 30 soldiers. They would disappear into densely wooded areas and then appear out of the woods in a different location periodically. While the distances were considerable, traveling that far on four legs was not impossible. The opinion of this camp was that a small mercenary group had somehow landed on the planet and was engaging in destruction and looting for an unknown reason.

 

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