Lieutenant Greg Alabaster (Adventures of the League Space Patrol Book 8)

by Frank Carey

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lieutenant Greg Alabaster

  Adventures of the League Space Patrol Book 8

  By Frank Carey

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Frank Carey

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  League Tale #64

  CHAPTER ONE

  Earth, England, London, 1890...

  In a laboratory deep below the streets of Victorian London, Lady Penelope Alabaster paced in front of a large, ornate ring while a silver man watched intently.

  "Where are they, Wilson? Why have we not heard from them?"

  "Your husband and his companions are eight hours overdue, milady. Would you like me to activate the recall circuit?"

  "Yes! We have waited too long, I fear."

  A tall man of advanced years with eyes sharp as a falcon exited a lift and joined Lady Penelope. "Daughter, I got your message and hurried over to see if I can help."

  "Father! The Alliance went on a most secret of missions and have not returned. Worried, I instructed Wilson to recall them, but your device cannot perform the task."

  "Wilson, report!" Dr. August Septimus ordered.

  "Doctor Septimus, I have attempted to transport all six alliance members, but the system is unable to lock onto them."

  Doctor Septimus walked over to the ring and made adjustments to its controls. He pressed a button, but nothing happened.

  "What is wrong, Father?"

  “Their beacons are not responding, and something has scrammed the address buffers. Without the beacons, I cannot travel to their locations, so a rescue attempt is impossible."

  "What will we do?"

  "We wait. Wilson, take Lady Penelope upstairs, then call my wife and bring her up to speed."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Father..."

  "Go with Wilson. I will be up shortly."

  When they were gone, Doctor Septimus began the task of shutting down the lab. He stopped when he got to piece of equipment which resembled a cylindrical sarcophagus. He laid his hands on its top. "God forgive us," he whispered.

  ###

  Earth, England, London, eight-years prior to the Colonization of Ronskin-223...

  A head peeked into the darkened room followed by a hand-held scanner. "All clear," a voice said. The head was followed by a body, then three more.

  "Somebody, find a light-switch," another voice said.

  CLICK! "Found it," a third voice said as the room lights came on.

  "Wow!" the fourth member of the group exclaimed as the door snicked shut behind her. "Ralphie! This is incredible."

  "Annie, this is the first time I've been able to get into this part of the lab," Ralph said. He pointed to the windows along the balcony above them. "Normally, I see it from the gallery."

  "Ralph, it all looks new," a young man said as he peered at a large ornate, metal ring partially embedded in the floor.

  "Robot cleaners and filtered air, Tim," Ralph explained. "Doctors Septimus and Alabaster worked on their inventions in this very lab. My family have been the caretakers of the house, this lab, and the museum ever since Lady Penelope died almost two hundred years ago."

  "Ralphie?" a young lady called out from the back of the room. "Why is there a body in here?"

  "Sue? Where are you?" he asked as he headed to where he thought she was.

  "Here," she replied as her three companions came into view.

  Ralph hurried over and found Susan standing in front of a long, metal half-cylinder about ten feet long and three feet high. A control panel on its side was showing several multi-colored traces. "Sue, did you touch anything?"

  "Just that button, she replied. She pointed at a large red button. Below it was a hinged cover.

  "Let me guess, you wondered what was underneath the cover, right?"

  She shrugged and smiled. Suddenly, clouds of vapor billowed out from underneath the half-cylinder as an alarm sounded in the lab.

  "Everyone out!" someone ordered. The four teenagers turned to see a tall, slender man wearing a one-piece black suit hooking a thumb toward the open door. Waiting out in the hallway were several members of the house's security force and Ralph's father.

  "Ralph! Come here, the man said as the guards took the other three teens into custody. He looked at the man in black. "Sorry about this, Mr. Wilson."

  "It's not their fault, Joseph. We'll talk later. Please, close the door behind you."

  "Yes, sir."

  With the doors closed, Wilson turned to watch the chamber as it opened. "This is Wilson. I'm in the lab, and I need a medical team down here STAT."

  As he watched, the lid raised up to reveal a naked human lying in a bed lined with a jelly-like substance. The man in the bed was about eighteen years old with long, white hair and translucent skin. He slowly opened his eyes, then tried to get up on his own. Wilson ran over to help him, but the man recoiled. "Who the hell are you and where the hell am I?"

  "Greg, I'm Wilson and you're in the lab."

  What is this confounded stuff?" Greg said as he pulled his jelly-covered hand from the surface of the bed.

  "It's biostasis gel. It protects one’s skin from the effects of long-term storage... Sir, what's wrong?"

  Greg was staring at the back of his hand. "Whose hand is this? Where's the scar that cheetah gave me when I was last on safari?"

  "Sir, I need to explain something if you would just calm down..."

  Greg pushed himself out of the clutches of the bed, then ran to a full-length mirror mounted on a wall near the lab's door. He stopped and stared at his reflection. "What have you done to me? What have you done to yourself? What in the name of God is going on here?"

  "Sir, please..." But Greg would have nothing to do with any explanation. He reached down and pulled on the doorknob, tearing the door off its hinges. Ignoring the wreckage, he ran out into the hallway. There he stopped and stared as an Alturan family slid by followed by two elves and a Lysan.

  "No, no, no, no!" he yelled as he saw a glass door marked exit. He bolted for it before Wilson could stop him. Greg ran outside and stopped dead in his tracks. "Where am I?" he whispered as he beheld 23nd century London. Wilson caught him when his knees buckled.

  ###

  Greg woke up in a hospital bed. The room was typical for the year. On the table was a floral vase with a bouquet of spring flowers. There was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said.

  A pert older woman with solid build wearing a white lab coat over her simple dress walked in. "Mr. Alabaster, my name is Ciara Devlin. How are you feeling?"

  Greg got to his feet and bowed. "It's Doctor Alab
aster, milady, and I feel fine, Ms. Devlin."

  "Good. Please, sit."

  "Where am I?"

  "London General Hospital. You fainted outside your residence, so you were brought here for observation. Do you know why you fainted?" she asked while putting on a pair of sun glasses.

  "I woke up in my lab and met a very strange man. I panicked, ran out of the room, then nothing." He looked at his reflection in the glasses. "Why are you wearing dark glasses?"

  "Light sensitivity."

  "And gloves?"

  "Arthritis. I just need to ask you a few questions. First, what year is it?"

  "What an odd question. It's 1892."

  "What is your full name?"

  "Doctor Gregory Alabaster."

  "You're human?"

  "Of course... Oh, you mean this," he said while showing her the backs of his hands. "This is a severe form of albinism my dear departed father passed down to me."

  "Excellent. One final question."

  "Ask away."

  "Do you know what a clone is?"

  "Some type of spice?"

  "Perfect. I won't bother you any further. A nurse will be in shortly with clothes for you. Do you have any questions?"

  "Only one."

  "Ask away."

  "What year is it really?"

  She looked at him with a smile. "All your questions will be answered shortly. Doctor, it has truly been an honor to meet you. Have a great day."

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Enchanté mademoiselle."

  "Madam, monsieur. You are such a scalawag. Good day," she walked outside and closed the door behind her.

  He shook his head. "What have I gotten myself into now? Why haven't the others come for me?" he wondered aloud.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ciara walked into the meeting wearing her normal street clothes, glad to get out of that hideous outfit with corset and bustle. She sat down at the table and waited for the meeting to come to order.

  "Well, Ciara, what is Dr. Alabaster?" General Spent asked as she turned all three eye stalks toward the Venlanten.

  "I sent tissue samples to the Cube for analysis. They confirm that the person in that room is the clone of Dr. Gregory Alabaster."

  "That's impossible!" an elf biologist exclaimed. "The technology needed to create a clone did not exist in Victorian London, or anywhere else in this sector."

  "It gets better. As far as the Cube geneticists can determine, our Greg is a birth-twin of Lord Alabaster. It is as if they used fetal cells as a base, then grew him to his present age of 18. Then, for some reason, they halted development."

  "What about Josiah Muntz or his sister, Zoe," Spent asked.

  Ciara shook her head. Comparing their work to our Greg is like comparing cave paintings to the work of Michelangelo."

  "Does he know?"

  "No. He has a soul, and it is his own. Most of his memories, though, are the original Gregory's."

  "How can that be?"

  "It can't. Copying memories into a sapient brain is virtually impossible. What have we learned from the people who own the museum?"

  "The caretakers are descendants of the original caretakers of the estate, the staff, or people that have been hired over the years. There are two interesting exceptions," Clint, her husband and the group's security consultant said. "First is the Wilson guy, the one who chased Greg out into the street. He's some kind of intelligence using a synth body. We have photos of him in a robot form from the 1890's. He claims not to be Necrue, Alue, or Immortal.”

  "And the other exception?"

  Clint brought up a picture on the room's main view screen. "Lady Penelope Alabaster. Daughter of the legendary Doctor Septimus, founder of the Alliance of Six and holder of several hundred patents still in use today."

  "Wait a minute!" Cube Director Malcuro Dorcus exclaimed as he flapped his wings. "That would make her over 300 years old."

  "She's a demigoddess. Septimus adopted her when she was an infant," Clint continued. "She and Wilson are in the VIP lounge demanding to see Greg."

  Ciara furrowed her brow. "Does either of them know Greg's a clone?"

  "Wilson does, and he assures me she knows nothing about our Greg."

  "I suggest we talk to both before we or they talk to Greg,"

  "I agree," Director Dorcus said. The basili tapped the intercom button. "Security, this is Dorcus. I want to see our two London visitors now!"

  ###

  Greg looked out the window at the London he knew so well. There was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said as he continued to watch out the window.

  "Greg? How are you feeling?"

  "Ah, Miss Devlin. I feel well. May I ask a favor of you?"

  "Of course. Anything."

  "Could you let me see what's really out there? This moving picture is a fine reproduction, but it is only a reproduction. I can detect a slight flickering of the white areas."

  She sighed. "Computer. Return view screen to normal mode."

  The view changed to one of a vast concourse filled with creatures of all description. "Where am I?" he asked.

  "We are in outer space several light-years from Earth. This room is part of a research station known as the Cube. Over 50,000 beings from over forty planets live and work here."

  "Are you human?"

  "No, not really. I am a Venlanten. We came to Earth centuries ago after being kicked off our home world by a group of people we had oppressed."

  "You were in my mind."

  "Some of my people can read souls. I read yours."

  "Who am I?"

  Ciara opened the door and two people stepped inside: the one who called himself Wilson, and a woman who looked like Penny. The look the woman gave him told him everything he needed to know.

  "Wilson, I assume I am not Lord Gregory Alabaster." He watched Penny avert her eyes.

  "No, sir, you are not. Lord Alabaster and the other members of the Alliance of Six went on a secret mission in 1892. They never returned."

  "Then what am I?"

  "A backup memory storage unit and parts depot..." Penny turned and slapped him with enough force to throw him into a wall.

  "You will speak to Lord Alabaster with respect, robot, or I will have you disassembled."

  "Lady Penelope. I am not your husband. I am nothing more than spare parts."

  Tears filled her eyes.

  "I am deeply sorry for your loss. The Alliance did work that greatly benefited the world. Miss Devlin, what fate is in store for my mortal coil?"

  "He is property of the Alabaster Estate..." Wilson started to say. He stopped when he found himself staring down the length of a blaster.

  "Where the hell did that come from?" Ciara exclaimed.

  "I stole it from one of your guards. I've been around the block more than a few times. Listen to me Wilson, there are no claims against this man. If there were, the League could rightly charge the estate for the crime of slavery. If that would happen, I would gladly testify against every son of a bitch on the Board of Regents." She turned to Ciara. "What do you need from us?"

  "The Director of the Office of Security will send you a list." Ciara saw the look on Penny's face. "Wilson, may I suggest you enter witness protection?"

  Wilson silently nodded back.

  With a final look, the two walked out of the room, leaving Greg alone with Ciara.

  "How could I be that crass and unfeeling?" Greg said quietly. I must be a sociopath and monster," Greg said as he sat down on the side of the bed. Ciara pulled-up a chair in front of him.

  "Not you; him. He, or someone working for him created you, but like twins, the two of you diverged the moment you awoke."

  "What about the other alliance members? Did they have duplicates?"

  "Wilson informed us that all six of you had duplicates, but only you survived. All six stasis chambers--that is what we call the bed you woke up in--were supposed to be stored in a warehouse in London. Your chamber got mixed-up with a prototype. A buzz b
omb took out the storage facility during World War II. Your stasis chamber ended up in the museum totally by mistake."

  "World War II? My God, what have I slept through?" He closed his eyes for a moment. "Penny was horrified by the sight of me," he said.

  "More like she was unable to process the situation."

  "How is it she's still alive and seemingly the same age as when I remember knowing her?"

  "She's adopted, and her biological father is one of the Greek gods."

  "She's a demigoddess?"

  "Yes, our scans show she's half-human-half-immortal..."

  "Scans?"

  "I forget, you're a little out of touch with current time. We can fix that." She nodded toward the pile of clothes on the bed. "Why don't you get dressed, then you and I will join my husband for dinner. I think the three of us can figure out what you can do with the rest of your life."

  "I would like that very much."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Present day...

  Greg Saluted as Captains McKee and Thorvald exited the shuttle. He closed the hatch, then breathed a sigh of relief. "Another day, another passenger," he said as he grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge before plopping down in one of the lounge chairs. "They make such a cute couple." The comm unit beeped to signal an incoming message. "Go for Alabaster," he said while leaning back in his seat.

  "Lieutenant Alabaster, this is Space Patrol. Prepare to receive new orders."

  Greg got up and walked over to the lounge terminal. "Ready to receive new orders, Space patrol." The terminal screen filled with data as a hard copy appeared in the printer. "Got it, Space Patrol. Alabaster out." He picked up the printout and scanned through it. "Well, this is different." Grabbing his bag, he walked out of the ship.

  "Hey, LT! Off so soon?" one of the ground crew, an Erdexi, asked.

  "Duty calls, Saarah." He looked back at the ship. "Take good care of her. She earned it this trip."

  "Aye, sir! Good journey to ya," she replied with a salute.

  He returned the salute before heading off to find his new ride.

  ###

  Stryker Team 3 commander Colonel Elizabeth Match walked into the battle shuttle with her team and found Greg waiting for them. "Permission to come aboard," she said as everyone saluted.