Dalida: A Scifi Space Opera Adventure

by G. P. Eliot

  “You’re quite the charmer, Jake. Call me Lory.”

  “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. And you haven’t told me what you do.”

  “Work at the ISRD.”

  “Ah, beauty and brains too, I see. What a wonderful combination.”

  The Squirt ran back down the tulip and stood in front of the humans. Several of his buddies came with, circling around, expecting gumnuts. Steed reached his hand into the bag and tossed a half dozen onto the purple grass. The Squirts scrambled for them. There seemed to be quite a variation in their appearance; some were fluffy and blue, some were brown and had enormous feet, some were black from head to toe and very small. Squirts from other trees and flowers noticed the commotion and turned their heads. When they saw the gumnuts dropping to the grass, they headed over, too.

  “We’re attracting a crowd,” Lory said.

  “Always nice to be wanted,” Steed answered. He swung the bag and scattered all the gumnuts on the ground. The Squirts went wild. Lory lowered her voice.

  “Sherman.”

  “Lincoln.” Steed replied. This was the agreed upon sign and counter sign. Lory was indeed the double agent that he was to meet. Steed was pleased that this connection between his organization, the Confederates, and The Shimmering Path could be made so that their collective agenda could move forward.

  Lory was the only Shimmering Path asset on Lupine, so they had contacted Steed and the Confederates for help in assisting their continued efforts in infiltrating the Union Military. The ISRD had been quite active lately and they needed to know why.

  “Anything to report?” he inquired.

  “No,” came the reply. “And I know no one is following me. I’m a trusted servant—well, trusted scientist of the state. But there’s a…it’s hard to describe. Like the Squirts, the very top scientists–those with political connections–seem to be rustling around. I suspect something is in the wind, but I don’t know what it is. But something odd is going on, Jake. I haven’t been able to get to the bottom of it.”

  He smiled and turned his head. “Yes, I’m getting a bit tired, too. Let’s sit down.”

  They walked about twenty yards to a green bench and sat down.

  “What is the Union up to now? New experiment, seeking new weapons to control the unruly populace?”

  “No. Not at all. And that’s the problem,” Lory said. “What’s bothering is not so much what is being done but what is not being done. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Doesn’t make sense? Sometimes governments are not the most rational of entities.”

  Lory nodded. “Yes. The Union runs its empire but is fighting against the dissidents of The Shimmering Path. And in the Delta quadrant, the dissents have broken out into all-out war. The Union is close to battling on two fronts and that’s never a good military strategy.”

  Steed smiled. “They could surrender but I doubt they’re considering that option. The Union officials might be utterly confident they will defeat both the opposing forces. That’s not as farfetched a notion as you might think. They are powerful and have consolidated their power over the past few decades. Looking at the situation objectively, there is a very good chance they will triumph, even in a two-front war.”

  “And the alien threat?” Lory asked.

  Years before, Earth was attacked by an unknown virus that devastated the planet and caused most of the still surviving humans to flee to space in intergenerational ships, to prevent the extinction of the human race. Tens of millions died before they could leave but millions did flee into exile. Even though humans had now spread throughout the galaxy, government officials were still uneasy and anxious about another attack. Humans had never discovered why they had been attacked. The Union’s space and military defenses were always on high alert. Although scientists had desperately tried, they had never found an antidote to the deadly virus, which was one reason no human had ever returned to Earth. There had been rumors that the government had received messages from the aliens that had sent the plague, but such rumors were considered paranoid conspiracy theories.

  Steed shrugged. “The aliens, if they ever existed, attacked once and then disappeared. We haven’t heard anything from them in a long time, thank goodness. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  “I’ve heard rumors that they do exist and that there may have been another message from them.”

  Steed shook his head. “They would be broadcasting another attack and warning us of it? I doubt it. Idle gossip and speculation without a shred of truth behind it.”

  “But dealing with two rebel groups and a possible alien threat, wouldn’t you keep the military at high alert?”

  “Yes.”

  Lory Cox leaned back on the bench. “But that’s just it. In the highest level of government, things are…relaxed. I’ve been in meetings where we were on red alert. It’s tense. It’s like electricity is in the air. Officials are jumpy, edgy. Nowadays, the top of the line generals and officials seem remarkably calm, even…jubilant. It’s like they’re carefree. They’re acting as if all their problems will disappear tomorrow. Or they will disappear tomorrow.”

  “That is a bit puzzling,” Steed said. “Are they ingesting substances they shouldn’t be?”

  “Don’t think so. In addition to my other duties, I am a liaison to the military sector and civilian government. I update officials on all the new scientific projects. The top people just seem to have a breezy attitude, which is utterly contradictory to their past behavior. The officials, both in civilian and military clothes, know they are tyrants and know they are running a totalitarian government. They always used to be on edge, afraid of the populace and rightly so. When they left government offices they walked out with bodyguards. A year ago, the internal security police was beefed up.”

  “They didn’t have enough guards?”

  “They didn’t think so. There’s an entirely different view now. It started just recently, and I don’t know why it changed.” She raised her finger. “But only among the very top officials. The military is still on alert. After all, they must fight the Confederates. But the top people walk around like they’re in their own private nirvana. It’s a bit eerie and I do mean eerie.”

  Steed looked toward the park. The Squirts seemed to be regrouping. Only two or three people strolled on the walkways. Steed almost always had a smile on his face. Even in the toughest of times, he grinned. So, it was impossible for the woman to tell if he was dismayed or pleased.

  Lory was a proud member of The Shimmering Path, one of the nicknames of the rebel resistance to the Union. Even when she joined the ISRD, she'd had questions about the government. The longer she worked for the Union, the more distasteful she'd found the job. They had rationalized more and more, the erosion of their citizens’ basic freedoms. It was the most tragic of ironies that in such a high-tech society, communications and speech were clamped down on so tightly.

  She had finally – although privately - broken with the government. Secretly she had contacted one of the underground Shimmering Path leaders and offered her services. She was almost sick to her stomach, walking into the facility and smiling pleasantly at the officers she now detested. But the Shimmering Path major realized she could be a valuable asset to the rebels and the most valuable place she could be was the ISRD, akin to a dagger stuck in the heart of the enemy. So, he convinced her to stay and provide vital information to the rebels. There were other high-ranking Union officials who had grown disenchanted with the government, but Lory was the most important asset the rebels had behind enemy’s lines and in the enemy’s defense facilities.

  Steed was an agent for the Confederates. He was rich and, with his patrician background, was often at the best places and the most important dinners. He socialized with both politicians and generals and was always a charming conversationalist. He also picked up valuable information which he fed to the Confederates. It was a dangerous game, but he played it well. He and Lory often exchanged intel. Steed thought, soon he wo
uld officially “meet” Lory at an office party or gathering. Then they would not have to pretend to not know one another.

  “Have you heard the rumors about the generational ships?” he asked.

  Lory stiffened as if hit by a mild electric shock.

  “The ships? No.”

  “I was told the government, in a very hush-hush move, is servicing and upgrading the entire fleet of generational ships. I was curious as to why.”

  Lory frowned, and a puzzled tone came into her voice. “I don’t know. The policy has been to upgrade a couple of the ships every year. But the whole fleet?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told. There’s a hundred vessels in the fleet?”

  “More than that. Those ships carried the human race into space. We didn’t get all the Earth inhabitants. Billions died from the plague, but most of the few who survived boarded the ships…it’s certainly wise to keep them in optimum shape.”

  Steed nodded. “A policy of yearly upgrades of several ships at a time is a sound one. So why is every generational ship suddenly going to the shop for an upgrade?”

  “A very good question. I will see if I can find out.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You can also tell those of the Bonnie Blue Flag that the Union aims to install a major military installation on Verner later this month. Caravans of men and equipment will be moving to the planet and installing a spaceport,” Lory said.

  “A launching station for an invasion of one of the Confederates’ home planets?”

  “That’s the Union plan. If it can establish a base on Verner and keep it, it’s a major military advantage. But if the Confederates are ready and are not taken by surprise…”

  “I understand.”

  “Steed, I know you’re somewhat of a historian, especially of Old Earth, and you also have military expertise.”

  “You’ve been peeking at my resume. But I must warn you, it is a bit flowery, with a few exaggerations.”

  “I doubt that. The degree from the military school is valid, I know that much, as is the history degree from Lancaster University, one of the finest on the planet.”

  “Yes, a very challenging four years for me, and I often challenged my professors in return, yet they still gave me good grades. I enjoyed the experience and the parties. But the professors were glad to be rid of me.”

  Lory smiled and almost laughed. Steed always seemed to have an underlying note of gaiety in his voice.

  “So, being something of a military historian, what are the chances of a successful revolt by the Confederates? And what are the chances of the Shimmering Path winning?”

  Steed didn’t hesitate in his reply. “The answer has to take in a lot of factors. Rarely is predicting a war, a cut and dried affair. Few people can do what General Sherman did on the eve of the Civil War. You know about that?”

  “I’ve read some history myself. I know what the American Civil War was about, and I know who Sherman was, but nothing about his predictions.”

  “When the war started Sherman was the commander of a military school in New Orleans. If I recall correctly, he was having dinner with a few Southern businessmen and planters when they heard the news that Fort Sumter had been attacked and the Confederates had seized the fort. The other men around the table were ecstatic and thought the South would win the war. He told them they were foolish and that the South would lose.”

  “Which they did?” Lory interjected.

  “Yes. Both North and South believed it would be a short war. Sherman knew better. He told the assembled Southerners that the South had exceptional leaders and fine soldiers and would initially win some victories, but the North would wear the South down. It had more of everything—more men, more guns, more supplies, more food, more industrial plants and more time. The Union would grind away at the South, until they surrendered, and the North would eventually win. Sherman was correct in everything he predicted. Few people had his clarity about the coming struggle.”

  Cox listened intently. “So, General Sherman, what is your view of the current battles?”

  “Factoring in what you just told me I’d say the odds still favor the Union. They have the men and the ships but not necessarily good commanders. There hasn’t been a war for eighty years, so their commanding officers have little to no battle experience. In the Civil War, both sides had men and officers who were veterans of combat, although at first those veteran officers didn’t do much good for Mr. Lincoln. He had a succession of bad generals. The difference is he finally found a good one and Jefferson Davis never found a decent commander for his Western front. I don’t know the quality of the officer corps of the current Union. As for the Confederates, I know some of their generals are very good so that may be an advantage. The Confederates have enough planets, so they don’t have to worry about supplies or food. They have good men, but they are outnumbered. I’d say the Union has a sixty percent chance of winning. But a few good breaks and an exceptional general and our present Confederates might win. There are longer odds against the Shimmering Path. They are just getting started. The Union has the power to crush them if it acts quickly and wisely. But if what you say is true, if the top leaders are giving only half of their attention or less to the conflict, the Path may have a chance to soar.”

  “I know you also like to gamble occasionally, Steed. Who would you bet on?”

  He slowly stood up and smiled. “I do enjoy a game of cards, but war is one thing I don’t bet on. I just hope the worthiest side wins.” He tipped the bowler hat. “It was so nice to meet you, Miss Lory Cox. I hope to see you again soon.”

  “I will look forward to it.” She glanced toward the park. “I’m sure the Squirts will, too.”

  She waited on the bench for a minute, then stood up and walked in the other direction.

  4

  The Red Jackal sat looking at a very large screen. A red spot on the screen showed the site where Hank had attacked the squad of guards, then sped away. The Jackal had a cigarette between his teeth. Smoke trailed up to the ceiling and dissipated. He reached up and tapped the red spot on the screen.

  “Computer, screen back,” he said.

  He snubbed out the cigarette and lit another and re-focused his gaze. Witnesses said Hank and the professor had gone south. But where? High-level APBs had been sent out, Hank’s car could be traced if it was on the highway. Hank could take counter-measures to avoid detection but such measures would not last long.

  South. Did Snider expect to hide? Was there a band of The Shimmering Path in the vicinity who would help him escape? The rebel group would certainly want the professor in their hands. He noticed the green on the map, the mountains just southwest of the city. He raised his eyebrows.

  How big was the greenery? He asked that question of the computer and received the answer of eight square miles. The Jackal nodded. Snider had been in the city five years. He leaned over and picked up Hank’s file and read the relevant portions quickly. Yes, the man had stayed mostly in the city, leaving it only a very few times in five years. He was not familiar with other places. So, was he hiding in or near the city?

  The forest, The Jackal thought. Some place in the forest. He picked up the file and skimmed it again. Snider had grown up in a rural area, full of woods, and fields and pastures. He might be at home in the woods. For that matter, he might be camping out. He was a trained officer in the Navy, so he could easily spend months in the forest. Most men would starve to death out there or die of dehydration, but Hank could find food and water.

  But…not with the professor. The professor was not used to the wild. Even with Snider’s help, he couldn’t last too long in the wild. The former captain had to have a house or a cabin if the professor was to stay with him.

  He checked the computer again, but it revealed nothing. Snider’s car had vanished from the Tracking System. But it couldn’t vanish forever. The computers never stopped looking.

  The Jackal thought back to his personal experience with Hank Snider.
He had served under him for a few years and had hated almost every minute of it. Members of the elite Wolverines were recruited from the other branches of the military and The Jackal had chosen to seek a position in the Navy. Unfortunately, the fleet admiral had a grudge against his father and had assigned him under Captain Hank Snider as his first officer. The posting had enraged him particularly when he realized that Snider was of natural birth stock and therefore inferior. From the first day he loathed the young captain and looked for a way to get Snider out of his way to take over command of his Battlecruiser. Fortunately, Snider proved to have a weak character and was easily set aside. Less than a year later he was part of the Wolverines.

  His time under the captain had been painful to say the least. The man was good looking, tall, charming and seemed to please his superiors effortlessly. His success with women at the time was legendary. He managed to curry favor with everyone through insidious social gatherings. There was a story that he had heard from one of the other officers about one of the captain’s many social gatherings. Something about a summer home. He blinked. His eyes deepened in color. Snider must have a cabin here, The Jackal concluded. A cabin in the forest. He flicked a switch.

  “Yes, sir,” a voice responded.

  “Sergeant, prepare an attack squad to leave tomorrow at dawn. Double the usual number of men.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll be going after two men. The older man can be killed. The younger man I would like alive. If he’s killed, it’s regretful, but if we have a chance to take him alive, I’d prefer that.”

  “Yes, sir. The men will do their best.”

  “I’m sure they will.” The Jackal nodded to himself as the communication link was severed. The two men should be dead or in custody by noon. He had never liked Captain Snider, but he had always struck him as an intelligent and practical man. Why had he attacked the government squad? He had lived quietly for five years, wisely avoiding attention after his bad conduct discharge. Why draw attention to himself over a rogue scientist? Was he drunk now? No, a drunken man couldn’t have taken out a five-man security squad. Hank was obviously sober and knew what he was doing.