by Paul Rix
As Garrett rose stiffly from his chair and began limping along the corridor, Murphy smiled to himself. Although his old friend had accumulated some new battle scars, Garrett appeared to have won the war, conquering the demons that had threatened to pull him under. There was now a spark of enthusiasm behind his keen stare.
Welcome back, Garrett.
Chapter 58
Frederick strode into the presidential palace at four o'clock in the afternoon. As the sound of his expensive leather shoes marching over the polished marble resounded along the length of the principal thoroughfare, his stomach felt as if it wanted to eject the last meal he'd eaten and his hands were clammy. Everything was happening so fast. The chain of events he had believed he was in control of was threatening to overwhelm him with its undue haste and ferocity.
A recently as the previous evening, he had never truly expected to take over the symbols of power from his mother but he remembered being told by one of his tutors that fortune favors the bold. An opportunity had presented itself and he was taking decisive action. It helped to remind himself that this moment may never happen again.
As was often the case at this time of day, President D’Angelo was in her private suite, preparing her next speech; this one was for leaders from three Federation planets. He had called her private staff to confirm her whereabouts. He could leave nothing to chance.
President D’Angelo didn't like to be disturbed and glanced up irritably as Frederick entered the room unannounced.
"I hope you're here to tell me Delta has completed the mission to the ark."
"Not exactly," he said quietly, his voice catching at the back of his throat. "Mother, I have to inform you that Delta failed. Britannic remains intact, and she died in an accident."
D’Angelo's eyes glistened as she stared in disbelief at Frederick. "No, that can't be true. My poor little girl. Surely there's been a mistake."
Frederick remained standing, fighting the urge to comfort his mother. "I am truly sorry. We have verified the information."
Recovering her composure, D’Angelo took several deep breaths before sitting stiffly in her seat, appearing once more like the Federation president. "I need to know what happened."
"Details are still being gathered, so I don't have the full facts. Apparently, there was interference from a Marine. He had already discovered the ark. For reasons yet unknown, he entered Britannic and reanimated some of the crew. When Delta arrived, the Marine took it upon himself to defend the ship and crew."
"A single Marine defeated Delta and an elite squad of our finest soldiers? I don't believe it. Others have to be involved. News of the ark must have leaked out. There's a conspiracy."
"It's the truth. I spoke to Delta shortly before her death. By then, the Marine had wiped out most of the squad, including Commander Stone."
"Why didn't she request re-enforcements? Delta knew she had access to all resources."
"I don't know," Frederick lied, feeling physically sick. "You know how proud she was. She probably felt she needed no more help."
President D’Angelo nodded at the possibility. "Have you dispatched more ships to complete the mission and kill the Marine? There may still be time to destroy Britannic before news of it leaks out into the public domain. We can still salvage our position."
This was the moment Frederick had been building up to. What he said in the next sixty seconds would define the rest of his life. The nagging voice of doubt in his head told him he could still back out, but he knew he'd already made his choice.
"I'm sorry, Mother. News of Britannic's miraculous appearance will appear on all news channels across the Cluster in less than five minutes. Time is up for you."
"No one may make such an announcement, other than me. It will destroy us. While we're sitting here, thousands of people are getting ready for an uprising. Who would make such a bold statement?"
"That would be me," replied Frederick, unsure how he should be feeling at this momentous time. "Advocate Deschamps came to me with an offer several days ago. He opened my eyes to the fact that now is the time for change. Your style of politics is creating disharmony and distrust throughout the Federation. Delta would have continued in your vein. It's time for a fresh path."
"You think you can take over the presidency from me? You're a bigger fool than I thought. I have too much power here. It won't happen."
"It's happening right now. Deschamps is speaking to the parliament as we speak. He has already briefed military leaders and they are fully supportive of an orderly change in leadership."
"You're being played!" D’Angelo screamed, losing all her presidential composure. "What you're trying to do is unlawful. It's a rebellion that I will extinguish. You, Deschamps, and all of his followers have signed your own death warrants."
Frederick shrugged. "I will be sworn in as president later this evening. I have ensured that they will not harm you. Live out the rest of your life in peace, away from the public. This will be a peaceful coup."
"Did you have your sister killed as part of your peaceful coup?" D’Angelo spat the words out as the reality of her situation sank in.
"No. I had nothing to do with her death. I begged her to return, but she refused. It was only her failure that enabled this opportunity, but I promise that what I'm doing now was not in my thoughts when you sent Delta on her way."
"I do not doubt that. I can see Deschamps’ scheming behind all of this. Using my only son against me. You'll regret siding with him. The man cannot be trusted."
"I'll take my chances. It cannot be any worse than if I'd stuck with you."
"Is this revenge because I favored your sister? You're a petty, vindictive little man. You're not presidential material. You'll be Deschamps' puppet, mark my words."
Four guards appeared at the door to the suite and President D’Angelo grinned as she saw the familiar faces. "You took your time, Captain Pope. I want you to arrest my son for conspiracy to overthrow your president. Then find Advocate Deschamps and do the same."
The leading officer shuffled nervously. "We can't do that, Madam President. We no longer take orders from you."
President D’Angelo stood slowly. "So this is how it ends? Outplayed by my halfwit son. Maybe I don't deserve to hang on to power."
"I'll look after you, I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep. And, if I were you, devote your energies to taking care of yourself. I don't foresee a long presidency for you. You've painted a huge target on your back and Deschamps will not protect you like I would have done."
"Thank you, Mother. I will take that advice into account when I remind myself how you've treated me all these years."
"You're an idiot if you think I behaved badly toward you. I was ensuring the future of my legacy. Delta would have made a better president than I could ever dream of being, despite my successes. She would have taken care of you. You would have had a safe, secure life under her watchful eye. Now look at you!"
As the guards escorted President D’Angelo quietly away, Frederick watched her stride along the corridor with her head held high. Dignified to the end. He put her warning to the back of his mind; it was far too late for any doubts. He had to have complete trust in Advocate Deschamps, otherwise, all this was for nothing.
***
Ten minutes later, Frederick marched into the main parliamentary chamber, hoping that he was displaying more confidence than he was feeling. The ten distinguished advocates already in the room immediately stopped their conversation.
Frederick recognized everyone there, even if he had not spoken to all of them. They came from a cross-spectrum of political backgrounds and beliefs and most, if not all, had opposed his mother at one time or another.
Frederick could feel everyone's eyes drilling into him, expectantly waiting for his first words to them. Expressions varied from confusion to what appeared to be sympathy from two of the advocates. He presumed they were all as anxious as he was. Sudden change was never reassuring, and none
of these experienced politicians wanted uncertainty.
He spotted Advocate Deschamps at the far end of the room. The elder statesman was the only person in the room who looked relaxed. His warm smile appeared to be genuine and filled Frederick with the assurance he needed they were doing the right thing.
"President D’Angelo is no more. Long live President D’Angelo," said Deschamps, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
Frederick walked straight up to Deschamps and vigorously shook his hand. "Thank you, advocate. All of this wouldn't have been possible without you."
Frederick turned to face the gathering. "Thank you all for being here today, at this momentous moment for the Federation. I apologize for the unseemly haste, and I trust you will allow myself and Advocate Deschamps to explain the urgent need to remove my mother from her position. I promise you that this was no straightforward decision, but it is the right decision for all of you and for those who call Stellar Cluster their home."
The applause was instant and genuine, further bolstering Frederick's confidence. Maybe he could do this.
Once the applause died away, he held up his hands for silence. "The next few hours and days will be difficult. I want a peaceful and harmonious transition to avoid panic. The last thing we need is bloodshed. Advocate Deschamps has assured me you are up to the task and I am looking forward to working with you all very closely. My first request of you is who will arrange the safe return of Britannic?"
Chapter 59
Through a combination of fatigue, sedatives, and painkillers, Garrett slept for a full six hours. Once he had remembered where he was, he lay on his bunk staring at the ceiling. The pain in his ribs and side had reduced in severity to nothing more than a dull ache, proof that the nano-bacteria had successfully knitted his broken bones as well as healing his external and internal injuries.
Climbing cautiously out of his bunk, he performed what had been his daily stretching ritual; something he had not done for several months. It now felt right to reintroduce what had been part of his life before the dramatic events that had snatched Mercy from him. His muscles and knees protested as he tested his flexibility, but it was a thrilling sensation and one that he had missed.
Come on, old man. Time to get back in shape.
Murphy was patiently waiting for him on the bridge, looking across at the Britannic barely ten kilometers away.
"Any updates?" Garrett asked, also taking a moment to glance at the PEA.
"What would you like to hear first?"
Garrett shrugged. "Surprise me."
Murphy smiled. "What's happened to the doom-laden man I've had to tolerate for months? You're far too cheerful."
"I don't know what you mean, Levi," he replied with a playful wink.
"Okay, if you say so. The Federation has deployed seven research vehicles packed with medical teams, engineers, archivists, and historians. There's also one military escort but I'm told its mission will be to keep enthusiastic treasure hunters and scavengers away."
"You mean, like me."
"Exactly. The historians also want some time with you before they arrive. Understandably, they're excited and have a million questions. I explained this is as close as I've been to Britannic. You're the star witness as far as they're concerned."
Garrett groaned aloud as the prospect of a grilling from academics brought his positive mood crashing back down to earth. What made it worse was he knew he only had himself to blame.
"You'll also be surprised to hear there's been a power struggle on Constance II. President D’Angelo's opponents have overthrown her. I hear through my channels that the president's attempted demolition of Britannic was the catalyst."
"My God! That's unbelievable. D’Angelo's controlled the Federation since I was a boy, and I figured she would have to be carried out in a coffin. It's no less than she deserved, though. Delta came too close to succeeding."
"Which puts into context how important your presence was. There's no need to surmise what could have happened."
"Who's in charge?
"Would you believe it but her son! A cadre of advocates, headed up by someone called Advocate Deschamps, has given him the role. They've declared they want a nonviolent transition of power. So far, it looks as though all planetary systems will honor that wish."
The vagaries of politics had never interested Garrett as much as he knew they should. That was a world for the likes of his brother and late father, where most decisions were arranged behind closed doors. Politics was all about leverage and agreeing deals to maintain the status quo. There was no honesty or integrity.
But the sudden change in power was a complete shock. He wondered what that meant for him in the light of Delta's death. He had expected some retribution from President D’Angelo for what had occurred. Now he was no longer sure. Frederick D’Angelo was likely to react to his sister's death, but he would have to see what format that action would take.
"Have you heard from Captain Maxwell?"
"Briefly. She's been organizing rest periods on Britannic while they have carefully slowed its rotation to less than one revolution every twelve minutes. Her chief engineer was concerned the ark's superstructure had taken enough stress."
"Why haven't you invited yourself on board?"
"I was waiting for you. In fact, another fifteen minutes and I would have disturbed you. It's not been easy being this close to such a wondrous and historic vessel."
"I'm awake now," replied Garrett. He was eager to meet up with Maxwell and her crew. They had coped admirably under intense and unexpected pressure. Unfortunately, Britannic hadn't fared so well. The remains of what had been the hangar looked like an angry open sore on the side of the ark, a stark reminder of how close Delta had been to wiping out everyone on board.
***
Captain Maxwell, Dr. O'Brien, Chief Engineer Takahashi, and Major Thompson were busily studying systems data as Garrett led Murphy into the control room. Maxwell gasped as soon as she spotted them and immediately floated across to Garrett, wrapping her arms tightly around him and burying her head in his shoulder.
"Thank you, Oz, for everything you did," she said as she wiped tears from her eyes. "I don't know how we can ever repay you."
Flushing with embarrassment, all he could think to reply was, "Lacey, there's no debt owed. I did what anyone else would have done in similar circumstances."
O'Brien laughed out loud. "Don't sell yourself short. I seriously doubt there are many like you who would have risked their lives for us."
"I know a few," Garrett admitted. "But I'm forgetting my manners. I'd like to introduce you to Levi Murphy. I think you've already spoken."
"Yes, we have," Maxwell said, reaching out to shake Murphy's hand enthusiastically. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”
Murphy raised a quizzical eyebrow at Garrett. "Don't believe everything he tells you. He's been known to exaggerate his own importance."
"I thought you were here to look around Britannic. That's all you've spoken about for the past thirty minutes."
"Of course I am," Murphy replied as he drifted toward the command console. "I'm as inquisitive as the next person. Which, in this case, is you."
"I think I told you that Levi is an engineer at heart," Garrett said to Maxwell as they both watched Murphy resist the impulse to touch any of the controls.
"Oz, I can't believe you felt qualified to meddle with any of this equipment," Murphy said. "It's way beyond my comprehension, and I've worked on plenty of spaceships in my time. To call you reckless would be an understatement."
Garrett grinned like a small boy who had been caught doing something he shouldn't. "I think Levi is desperate to get a closer look around Britannic before it gets too crowded. Sakura, are you able to give him a guided tour?"
"I would love to," said an overly eager Takahashi, recovered from her ordeal. "I'm sure I can find parts of the ship that aren't warped, burned, or deadly."
"Sounds like my kind of spaceship
. First, I would like to check on the damage to the bulkhead inflicted by Scorpion," Murphy replied as he followed Takahashi toward one cart that would take him to the forward bulkhead.
Garrett briefly watched as Murphy and Takahashi disappeared into the distance before focusing on Thompson. "How are your troops doing, major?"
"Disoriented and shaken are probably the best descriptions. It was no fun being spun around for so long. Many of them can't accept that Grand President Trask is dead. They were devoted to the man. They're gutted they didn't get the opportunity to defend him."
"Is that how you feel?"
"I don't know. I have spent most of my career as a member of his personal protection squad, rising through the ranks. I experienced what he achieved, and I witnessed his fierce determination for Project Exodus to succeed and for humanity to continue. He was an easy man to admire and follow. But I've now seen Trask's true colors. He gave up on us without a second thought. I'll shed a tear for those who believed in him, but not for the man himself and I don't hold you responsible for his death."
"Thank you, major. He sealed his fate as soon as he stepped onto Delta's ship. There was nothing any of us could have done. If Delta had succeeded, Trask's remaining life would likely have been brief and painful anyway."
Captain Maxwell was listening to the conversation with a pained expression on her face. "What will happen to Major Thompson and his men?"
"Honestly? I do not know. I would expect the Federation will treat them exactly the same as everyone else on Britannic. There may be protocols in place for such a scenario, but I cannot remember the last time an ark arrived with survivors from Earth. It must be at least one thousand years. Academics will be studying history books as we speak, figuring out what to do."
"And what about you? You had a life before you found us. Will you go back to it?"
Garrett thought about an answer but did not have one to give. His future, much like that of the Britannic's crew and colonists, was a blank canvas, full of potential and a million possibilities. All he knew at that moment was he wanted to live and cherish every moment. It was what Mercy would have wanted for him.
