by Paul Rix
"I would be his puppet in that scenario. With no powers of my own. What are you trying to do to me?"
Boyd shook his head. "You'd have the power of veto and other abilities to enact executive decisions."
"That's not good enough. The president's position would be nothing more than a figurehead. Hardly a fitting reward for what you're asking me to do."
"There is room for negotiation. I'm not sure I should be so candid, but Deschamps likes you. He strongly believes the two of you can work closely together to bring harmony to the Federation."
Frederick regarded Advocate Deschamps as an old fool, an able politician who wasn't quite good enough to reach the top position. Most of the opposition members were similarly banal. All the same, there was potential to exploit the offer. Deschamps had revealed his hand early, giving Frederick the upper hand if he played it right. And if he failed to get what he wanted, then he could always approach his mother and share the news of the treacherous behavior. That could even be the better and safer option.
Once again, Frederick stood to leave. "I need some time to consider everything you have said to me. There's much to digest."
Boyd nodded graciously as he also stood. "You can contact me at any time. But I need your decision in time to save the PEA from whatever plans your sister has. I can arrange a direct meeting with Deschamps if that would help."
"I've not admitted to there being an ark. For now, the discussion we just had is nothing more than conjecture. But I will get back to you in the next day or two. Elements of what you said intrigue me."
"I pray you make the correct choice."
Frederick quickly left the room, his mind already churning through the infinite possibilities in front of him. He wasn't sure he would get much sleep that night.
Chapter 17
The chilly iciness of the air immediately struck Garrett as he entered the chamber. It was the same as when he'd first cracked his visor open in the command center, and sent a shiver through his body.
The next shock was the size of the room. Pods were arranged neatly in parallel rows along each wall as well as the floor and ceiling. He found it unsettling to see so many glass-fronted pods, knowing that each contained a person. Human-sized cocoons were visible in the closest pods, and he couldn't help but hope that the people inside had survived.
The room reminded Garrett of a morgue. The clinical antiseptic smell and the neat rows of bodies brought back far too many harrowing memories. He'd visited several morgues during his time in the Marines, with burial pods lined up with military precision. Memories of identifying fallen comrades, sometimes from only body fragments or badly disfigured faces came flooding back. Involuntarily, he shivered again, but this time it wasn't from the cool air.
"How many people are in here?"
"Two hundred," O'Brien replied as he floated ahead, eagerly checking inside each pod as he passed by. "There are four more identical chambers. Britannic also has a sixth chamber which sets it apart from all other arks."
Garrett raised an eyebrow. "I read nothing about that."
"It was a late addition. It was decided to replace one of the secondary storage rooms with a chamber to store embryos."
"Why?"
"That's easy," said Maxwell. "This was Earth's final Exodus Ark. Humanity's last chance to find a new home among the stars. We could have used that additional space for maybe eighty more pods, which seemed insignificant in the grand scheme. So instead, those with the authority packed millions of embryos."
"They're all fertilized," added O'Brien. "All we have to do is implant them in women and let nature do the rest."
Garrett shook his head in disbelief. "But there were enough couples for that purpose. We built a new civilization without the need for those embryos."
"I admit, it was an act of desperation," Maxwell said. "No one knew how many Exodus Arks or people would survive the journey into the great unknown. The embryos provided hope to everyone who donated their eggs and DNA. And they widen the potential gene pool, increasing diversity and reducing the risk of congenital ailments and abnormalities."
Garrett could now see the sense behind it. "I remember learning that there were some issues in the early years. Particularly when settlers colonized new worlds. Entire communities were wiped out because of the lack of genetic diversity. Whoever sent the embryos was a genius. It's a shame that the delivery was delayed."
"Captain?" O'Brien called from the far side of the chamber, urgent concern clear in his voice. "I've found a batch of failed pods."
Before Maxwell could respond, Takahashi maneuvered herself next to O'Brien and was frantically attempting to read the names on the pods. Garrett arrived close behind, next to Maxwell. Milky glass filled two rows of pods, with three pods in each row. To further confirm something had gone wrong, the light on the control panel of each pod was an unblinking red.
"Sakura, do you recognize the names?" Maxwell asked, softly.
"No." Her relief was palpable. "Two families. Magnussen and Singh. I probably met them during crew briefings, but I can't remember their faces."
"We can check the records later. Luke, I'm sure you're taking mental notes. Any idea what happened here?"
"I need to run diagnostics. These pods are on the same cryo-loop, so when the failure happened it affected all of them. It looks similar to what happened to Barratt. This could have occurred at any time."
"They warned us about malfunctions," Maxwell admitted. "Considering the time we have actually been in stasis, I'm surprised we don't have more failures."
"Yet it still hurts, doesn't it?" Garrett said. "All life is precious."
"These families trusted their lives to me. They relied on me to keep them alive."
"Their deaths were outside your control. I'm sure we'll discover what went wrong, but you can't blame yourself for technical failures while in cryo-stasis. Maybe you should prepare yourself for more fatalities."
"I know," Maxwell snapped. "I hope your Federation allows for decent burials. These people deserve our respect. Even in death."
"The Federation will treat everyone on this vessel as heroes, whether alive or dead. We will properly mourn these people."
***
A similar pattern happened in the next two chambers, with a further thirty-six pods found to have failed during the journey. On each occasion, the crew checked the names of the deceased and, in two instances were able to recall meeting them in the Exodus Facility in Texas.
None of the chambers so far had contained Takahashi's family. The failure to discover them, along with seeing the failed pods, was increasing her anxiety. "I should have checked yesterday," she kept repeating to herself.
As they arrived at the fourth chamber, Maxwell was aware of her fidgeting. "Do you want to wait for us back in the control room, Sakura? We can let you know as soon as we discover your family."
Takahashi shrugged. "Thanks, but I want to stay. There's only these two chambers left to check."
As the next chamber's hatch opened, Takahashi almost barged O'Brien out of the way, such was her eagerness to find her brother or sister-in-law. She gasped in horror as she floated deep into the chamber. Garret could see why. As he floated through the hatch, a high proportion of the glass pods were clouded over. The complete wall to his left contained failed pods, the ominous lines of red lights providing the final indicator that something catastrophic had occurred.
Takahashi's searching was more frenetic than ever. Whereas she had been more systematic in the earlier chambers, this time there was no order to her movements. Rather than follow each row of pods, she was randomly bouncing from one side of the chamber to the other.
"Sakura, I've found them." O'Brien's voice was calm.
Takahashi spun around to see where he was before pulling herself in his direction. In her eagerness to discover her brother's fate, she almost flew past O'Brien. As her face contorted in shock, he reached out with an arm to grab her by the waist and pulled her to him. She looked questio
ningly into his eyes for an answer, suddenly afraid to look directly at the pods.
"It's okay, Sakura. Their pods are still operational. Your family is safe."
At the news, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, scrunching her eyes shut. O'Brien blushed at the sudden outpouring of emotion but put his arms around her shoulders.
Garrett felt like an unwelcome interloper as Maxwell floated over to comfort Takahashi. He watched for several minutes as the three of them comforted one another.
It was Maxwell who broke free. She peered at the array of failed pods, saddened by what she saw. "Do either of you have an explanation for the high attrition rate in here?"
By now, Takahashi had regained her composure. "All I can think is that chambers four, five, and six are on a different power circuit. Energy spikes may have compromised the relays."
Maxwell frowned. "If that's the case, could the operational pods be in jeopardy?"
"I wouldn't like to say without knowing the cause. The sooner we can revive them the better the odds."
"Can you revive them now?" Garrett queried.
O'Brien was checking the master control panel for the chamber. "We can, but that may do more harm than good. If there is a power issue, then there could be a cascade effect when we commence the reanimation process. Large groups of pods could suddenly fail. And we don't have the standard medical teams to evaluate everyone as they come out of stasis."
"My recommendation is we wait for the recovery team to arrive," Takahashi said. "They're only four days away."
Maxwell nodded. "In that case, let’s move on to chamber number five."
***
"I think there's a malfunction," O'Brien said, a look of confusion on his face. "The keypad is not accepting my code."
"Another power issue?" Maxwell suggested.
"The lights are on. It should be working. I've even tried the code reset. If I didn't know better, I'd say they have set a different code for this chamber."
"Human error?"
O'Brien vainly tried one more attempt, but the keypad remained red. "That's always possible. Sakura, do you have any suggestions?"
"Other than ripping the wall out and recoding the keypad? Maybe some of Oz's friends can open it with their precision lasers and high-tech extraction equipment."
Garrett laughed. "I admire your faith in the technological advances we've made. You must think I can walk into any room."
"But you do have laser weapons."
"Oh yes. I own several photonic rifles and standard projectile weapons."
"Let me try with the keypad," Maxwell said. "I found two codes printed onto a card and placed in my stasis suit. I don't recognize them and can only assume someone placed them on me for a reason."
She pulled the card from her breast pocket and, holding it up to one of the emergency lights, she keyed in the top code with no response. "One last try," she muttered as she tried the second number.
"Success!" she shouted as the lights on the keys changed to green. She could hear the security latches holding the hatch in place releasing. Maxwell applied some pressure and there was the familiar hiss as the air pressure equalized with that inside the chamber. As soon as the hatch had swung open sufficiently, she eased her way inside. Garrett heard her say, "What the f—" as he followed closely behind.
He had a very similar thought as he saw the interior of the chamber. The pods had a more ornate appearance. A rich crimson alloy with the names embossed in a fine script framed the glass fronts.
"These aren't standard supply," Maxwell said. "I've never seen this style before."
Garrett was quick to notice the lights on all the pods were green. "Perhaps a new design?" he suggested. "They appear more robust than those in the other chambers."
"They're definitely a better quality," Maxwell admitted.
Garrett made his way slowly along the row. "Whoever is in each of these pods knew how to work out. The cocoons are huge. There's no comparison with the first four chambers."
"You're right," O'Brien exclaimed. "I don't remember meeting this many people with such physiques."
Just then, Garrett caught sight of something vaguely familiar inside one of the pods. He stopped his forward momentum and eased himself back to get a better view. The object was gray and metallic. Although it was well hidden behind a cocoon, there was no mistaking what it was. "There's a rifle inside this pod!"
"No, that's not possible," said Maxwell, who began moving toward Garrett. "The only permitted weapons are in stores. There was a strict limit and we brought them for defensive purposes only."
"I was in the army long enough to recognize a weapon," Garrett replied. "Take a look."
He saw the startled look on her face as she leaned in close and spotted what he had pointed out. "That's a mistake and should never have been allowed."
"That's not the only one," said a dismayed O'Brien. "There are two more pods here with what appear to be assault rifles."
Maxwell moved along to another pod, only to find yet another weapon. "What the hell is going on?"
"I think I have an idea," Takahashi said from the far corner of the chamber. She was floating in front of a double-sized pod that appeared to a have crystal lid, rather than the standard glass models. "This one has the insignia of Global President Trask. These must be his personal guards."
Chapter 18
Scorpion was still three million miles away when the first image of Britannic appeared on the main viewscreen. At that distance, Britannic was only a speck, but it visibly grew by the minute.
The bridge crew went silent and focused on their control consoles as Delta entered from her private suite. She knew she had been irritable for the past day but was unapologetic for her mood. The entire ship was now wary whenever she was around because she had snapped at two of the troops for no particular reason. She smiled to herself as she glanced around the bridge at everyone avoiding her gaze. Everyone that is except Commander Stone. Although she admired his ambition and questionable morals, he was becoming too obvious in his attempts to gain her favor. She had no room for clumsiness or arrogance.
"Have our orders changed?" he asked as she took her command chair.
She stared intensely at him, thrilled to see him wince under her gaze. "Why would they have changed, commander? We've received no additional information and the president, my mother, has left this mission in my capable hands. What would you want me to do differently?"
"I'm… sorry," he stammered. "I thought that the president wouldn't want any casualties."
"What she doesn't want is any witnesses. And I don't want you thinking. It's clearly too much for you!"
There was a faint snigger from somewhere behind her, which she ignored. Stone must have heard it too because he peered over her shoulder to discover the culprit before spinning around in his seat to check his controls.
Britannic was taking shape as a drab gray line on the screen. "Can someone enhance the image?" Delta called out.
The screen flickered before a new, clearer image of Britannic appeared, this time showing more details as the AI enabled the ship to stand out from the blackness of space.
"That ship has taken one hell of a beating," Stone remarked.
Delta peered at the battle scars in silent wonder. They built those ships to last, despite their limitations.
"Is she tumbling?"
"Yes. We calculate a complete rotation takes eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds. The motion will be barely noticeable inside the ship, especially at its axis."
"Artificial gravity generators hadn't been invented when Britannic left Earth, so we'll be old-school weightless." Delta was not looking forward to the sensation of weightlessness and would have happily remained on Scorpion if the success of the mission hadn't been so critical. She had experienced lack of gravity twice during emergency training and could still remember the unpleasant smell and feel of vomit in her helmet fifteen years later.
"Do we know if Garrett has attempted any com
munications to friends or colleagues?"
"We have reported nothing so far. He's behaving himself and waiting for the recovery team to arrive."
Delta wasn't taking anything for granted. "You would think he would have had other plans. People to see. An engagement on a particular planet. He can't have had prior knowledge of Britannic. He was going somewhere when he stumbled across the ark, yet agreed to wait five days for our arrival. Why has he gone quiet?"
"We've been constantly tracking transmissions," Stone assured her. "The only signal we've picked up is Britannic's beacon."
"Don't you find that odd?"
Stone shook his head. "He's a former Marine. Probably no imagination. And we know he's lost his former squad. A loner with few friends. Records confirm he doesn't even speak to his only brother. He's no match for us."
"I should hope not. I selected you and your elite team to protect me. If seven of you can't subdue an aging Marine, then I need to worry about my safety."
Stone chose not to respond; his best decision of the day. Instead, he focused on the data screen in front of him. "Okay, Pascale. Convert to stealth mode. We have to catch Garrett by surprise."
The trooper to Stone's left keyed a button on the control screen in front of him. "Activated. Cloaking field now at one hundred percent."
Delta did not need to be told. She could sense the ship vibrating, a side effect as the cloaking technology matched its frequency resonance with the ship's superstructure. Unfortunately, the technology also caused the fillings in her teeth to vibrate, resulting in an irritating and unpleasant sensation in her mouth.
"Have you located Garrett's craft yet?" Delta asked. Speaking had become awkward as if her teeth no longer fit her mouth.
"It's not showing up on the scanners."
Delta experienced a moment of panic. What if Garrett had decided not to wait around? Could they find him in time and limit the potential collateral damage? "Commander, if you've let Garrett escape, I will demote you to private before we return to the palace."
