Peacekeeper

by Doug Farren

  By the time the battleship arrived, the unknown vessel was gone. A beacon was dropped to serve as an extra warning to other ships until the arrangements could be made to clear the area of any other potentially hazardous ordinance. Even though the chance of a ship encountering a debris field in the vastness of space was quite slim, the area would be cleared and made safe. If a single ship were to be destroyed, the loss of life would be intolerable.

  Chapter 7

  Centralis: Location of the Galactic Alliance central government. It was chosen to be as close to the center of the Alliance as possible. The planet orbits a type-G star with a stellar mass of 0.93. Centralis is a very Earth-like planet with a day lasting 26.83 hours and a year of 354 days. The planet was originally colonized by the Lamaltans and given a boring name which translated into ‘P8’. Following the creation of the Galactic Alliance, the Lamaltans graciously donated an entire continent to be used exclusively by the new government as well as allowing the planet’s name to be changed to Centralis.

  For ease of access, the sprawling Centralis spaceport was built in the middle of Unity, a continent in the Southern hemisphere of Centralis. The dry desert and relatively flat land provided plenty of space to build one of the largest spaceports in the Alliance. The occasional sand storm was held at bay by a light shield. That same shield could be intensified to provide the first layer of protection against an attack from space. Inside the main shield, which was many kilometers in diameter, smaller shields protected the vital areas of the spaceport.

  Massive ground-based defense systems surrounded the spaceport, their observatory-like weather domes making them easy to spot. These structures could be found scattered all across Centralis. There was no way to approach the surface without being in range of several of these powerful energy cannons. Ground-based defenses, however, are always meant to be a last resort and Centralis was second to none in the quality and effectiveness of its space-based defense network.

  The shuttle descended vertically, coming to a gentle landing 300 meters from the gate. A few minutes later, it was mated to the walkway. After retrieving his bags and renting a robot to carry them, Tom looked around until he spotted an information kiosk. “Directions to the Peacekeeper Directorate,” he asked the machine.

  “The Directorate is located in the main terminal,” the machine replied. “The blue tram will take you there.”

  A moving beltway quickly transported him to a hub where he boarded a tram to the main terminal. After consulting a map of the terminal, he headed off to find the Directorate. A female human cyborg sat at a desk inside.

  “Welcome to Centralis Mr. Wilks,” she greeted him the moment he walked in the door. “I am Peacekeeper Sashana Quispe.” Pointing to a chair, she continued, “I understand your trip was not without some excitement?”

  “You might say that,” Tom replied, sitting down in the indicated seat. “I take it my message was understood?”

  “It was. A Shandarian battleship was immediately dispatched to the area. By the time they arrived, the ship you reported was no longer there. Are you certain it was an AOH vessel? The Nightglider’s sensors have poor resolution.”

  Tom had never seen a woman Peacekeeper. The cybernetic enhancements were meant to give them the strength and endurance necessary to carry out their job in even the most demanding of situations. But Peacekeepers were not machines. They still had emotions, wants, needs, and desires. Although her eyes were black pits of unfathomable depth, and the top of her head was a dull, black dome of armor, the skin of her face was smooth and a beautiful olive color. Even with her cybernetic enhancements, she was very attractive.

  “The helmsman, a Shandarian named Trenith, used some customized military software to tease out a fairly good image of the ship,” Tom explained. “I’ve seen an AOH—”

  “He was using military software?” Quispe interrupted.

  “It was a modified phase interference filter,” Tom replied, nodding his head. “I didn’t say anything to him because without that software we would never have identified that ship.”

  “Someone will have a private talk with him,” she said. “You were saying?”

  “Don’t be too harsh with him,” Tom suddenly became worried that Trenith was going to be in trouble. “He’s ex-military.”

  “He will only be warned. I believe you were telling me how you knew it was an AOH ship.”

  Tom scratched the back of his head as he replied. “I’ve seen an AOH vessel before while serving aboard the Dragon. I’m positive it was the same type of ship we encountered at Shaular. I think they were picking through the wreckage.”

  “Our thoughts as well,” Quispe replied, smiling. It wasn’t a huge teeth-bearing smile but rather a tiny closed-lips one that seemed to enhance the natural beauty of her face. “The debris has been identified as the remains of two Rouldian cruisers and a Chroniech battleship. The cruisers were reported as missing toward the beginning of the war. The Shandarians found evidence that parts of the Chroniech ship had been cut out and removed. We’ll be pulling the records from the Nightglider’s computer to see if a better image of the AOH ship can be extracted. Very good work Mr. Wilks.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Take the subshuttle to Contara. You will be met inside the terminal by a Tholtaran Peacekeeper named Linpra. Good luck at the academy.”

  It was clear he had been dismissed. Tom had a million questions he wanted to ask but thought better of it. The subshuttle made four stops before arriving at the city of Contara an hour and a half later. As promised, Linpra met him at the terminal. The Tholtaran Peacekeeper was not a full cyborg; both legs had been replaced while everything else remained natural.

  Linpra apparently understood his questioning look. “I’m a stage one Peacekeeper,” he explained. “There were some problems getting my nerves to grow properly after my legs were replaced. I’m waiting for the bio-master to decide if I can continue with the conversion process.”

  “You mean you might be dropped from the academy?”

  “I will always be a Peacekeeper,” Linpra replied, standing a bit taller. “We are waiting for one more person,” he continued. “A Rouldian named Lashpa. She’s not due to arrive for another 30 minutes. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  “I could use something to drink,” Tom replied, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

  There were several restaurants to choose from in the subshuttle terminal. Heading for the closest, Tom ordered a glass of iced tea. The terminal was busy but not crowded and the pair had no problem finding a place to sit.

  “What’s it feel like,” Tom asked, pointing to Linpra’s legs.

  Linpra had ordered some type of greenish fruit drink. After taking a sip, he hit his leg with a fist. The result was a near-silent thud, as if he had struck a solid steel pole. “These? They don’t have as much feeling as my real ones. I’m still trying to get used to them. Right now, they’re set to simulate my original legs.”

  That information jived with what Tom had read as part of the introductory material for the academy. Although they were immensely strong, the cybernetic legs had to be kept from operating at too high a power level otherwise they could easily cause the owner severe damage. Only after the entire skeleton was replaced by duralloy could the cybernetics be allowed to operate at full power.

  “What’s the academy like?”

  “It’s the hardest school I’ve ever attended,” Linpra replied, taking a long, slow drink from his glass of juice.

  Tom waited but Linpra didn’t seem willing to discuss any details. Taking out his pocket-pad, he occupied his time by catching up on the news. About 20 minutes later, Linpra stood up and said, “Wait here. I’m going to meet Lashpa.”

  Ten minutes later, he returned with a light brown, wide-eyed Rouldian following close behind. Linpra made the introductions then said, “The academy is a short drive from here. Please follow me.”

  Because it was the center of the Alliance, everything on Unity was designed to accom
modate all of the member races. Hallways were wide to accept the slightly wider bulk of Rouldians and Shiltans. Most restaurants provided species-specific dining areas and cuisine. Public transportation vehicles were built to provide comfortable seating for every conceivable race. Centralis could be a daunting and disorienting place to the unwary traveler.

  Linpra led them to the underground garage then to a large bus-like vehicle with seating suitable for everyone. As soon as all the passengers were seated, the bus started moving. Even though the garage was brightly lit, the glare of the rising sun nearly blinded them before the windshield automatically polarized and darkened. It wasn’t long before Tom noticed that Lashpa was staring at him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, when Tom looked in her direction. “This is my first time away from my homeworld. I have never seen your species before.”

  “You’re not ex-military?” Tom asked, surprised. He had automatically assumed that all Peacekeepers had a military background.

  “I'm a police officer,” Lashpa replied, her latest-generation translator giving her a properly inflected female voice. “You were in the military?”

  “The space force,” Tom replied, not knowing what else to say.

  “I’m from Fanish,” Lashpa went on. “It’s a relatively distant colony world. Until I started on this trip, I’d never met a non-Rouldian. You are Terran, right?”

  Tom couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am." Pointing his thumb in Linpra’s direction, he continued, “In case you didn’t know, our escort is Tholtaran. What made you decide to apply to the academy?”

  “Life in the colony is not very challenging,” she admitted. “I’ve always wanted to travel to other worlds and meet people from other species. Are you from Earth?”

  “No. My parents were from Earth. Not long after my mom found out she was pregnant, they decided to move to a colony world named Bellish. A lot of people were leaving Earth back then and there was a waiting list when they signed up. I was born on a Shandarian passenger ship somewhere between Earth and Bellish.”

  During the rest of the 20 minute ride, Tom and Lashpa continued to talk. By the time they arrived at the academy a new friendship was beginning to take shape. Linpra remained seated until the automated vehicle came to a halt under the canopy of the academy’s main entrance. Despite the blazing sun, the air was comfortably warm and humid. Without saying a word, he led them through the glass doors and into the building.

  A stage two Peacekeeper of human lineage greeted them. Both arms as well as both legs were cybernetic. “I am Peacekeeper Townsend,” he announced. “Welcome to the academy." Two robots, which looked like small, blue, half-meter tall cans on wheels, appeared from around a corner. The machines quickly positioned themselves near the new arrivals.

  Indicating the robots, Townsend continued. "Each of you has been assigned a robot. It will show you to your quarters and provide you with further instructions. This robot will be yours until you leave here. It will function as your servant, tutor, and guide."

  “Please follow me,” the robot nearest Tom said. At the same time, he overheard the robot near Lashpa talking to her in her native language.

  Following their robots, Tom and Lashpa walked down a short hallway where they encountered two elevators; one of them beckoning with wide-open doors. The entire group easily fit inside. After dropping down two levels, the doors re-opened. Tom’s robot said, “This is our floor, please follow.”

  “I hope to see you again,” Lashpa said, as Tom turned around to say goodbye.

  “Me too,” he replied.

  The robot led the way down a hallway that curved around a huge open dining area taking up the entire central part of the building on this level. They passed a large set of doors on the left painted blue and clearly labeled ‘Medical & Cybernetics’. The next set of doors was painted green and labeled ‘Living Quarters’. The doors swung inward as they approached revealing a long corridor with doors on both sides.

  The third door on the left was open and as they passed by, Tom caught a glimpse of another human sitting at a small dining table. The robot stopped in front of the next door on the right. “This will be your room while you are at the academy,” the machine informed him. “Green corridor, second level, room six.”

  Tom opened the door and stepped inside. This would be his home for the next two years.

  The spacious apartment was well furnished and more than adequate. To the right of the entrance was the front room with a large couch and two recliners. A spacious bedroom took up the far right corner. A quiet study area occupied the far left corner. The bathroom was sandwiched between the study and the bedroom making it accessible from all three areas of the apartment. To the left of the entrance was a small kitchen. A dining table sat in the open area between the main room and the kitchen. Several multi-art screens hung on the walls, their displays currently blank. The floor of the entire apartment was covered by a soft, pliable material patterned to look like natural wood.

  The robot patiently waited while Tom toured his new home. "So what do we do now?" Tom asked.

  "Your luggage will be delivered shortly. It is now 1643 local time. The schedule for the rest of the evening is as follows: Dinner is served in the main dining areas beginning at 1830; at 2000, a meeting of all new cadets will be held in the auditorium; after the meeting, you are free to do anything you wish for the remainder of the day."

  The robot was silent for a couple of seconds and then, as if remembering something, asked, "Are you familiar with the Centralis time system?"

  Having traveled extensively, Tom had already familiarized himself with the local timekeeping system and his timepiece was now programmed accordingly. "I am,” he replied. “How am I to address you?" he asked.

  "I am permanently assigned to assist you while you are at the academy; you may name me as you please. You can also change my voice or language to suit your preference."

  As Tom started to think of an appropriate name for his metallic companion, the door chime sounded. Opening the door, he found a large robot waiting on the other side with his luggage. Stepping aside, he said, "Bring them in here please."

  The robot, not much more than a cart with arms, rolled through the door, deposited the bags in the middle of the floor, then reversed itself and backed out of the room. Tom closed the door as his own robot picked up one of the bags. Following it to the bedroom, he bent to the task of unpacking. While putting things away, he tried to come up with a name for his robot. He soon discovered that naming a robot was almost as difficult as naming a child.

  "I’m going to name you Gy,” Tom said, as he put his empty bags away. “It's short for guide.”

  "Acknowledged," Gy replied. "Have you reviewed the layout of the academy?"

  Sitting down in a recliner, Tom said, "I have. It follows a logical organization."

  “Excellent. Then there is no need for me to explain the building’s layout to you. Your apartment is designated as G2-6; green corridor, second level, room six. The auditorium you will meet in later in the evening is designated as H4-2.”

  Tom nodded his head. “I will have no problem finding my way around,” he said. “How many students are there?”

  “The correct term is cadet,” Gy replied. “The population is constantly changing. A new group arrives twice a year. Your class consists of 81 cadets.”

  Following a more thorough exploration of his apartment, Tom decided it was time to eat. The smell of cooking as they approached the dining hall reminded him of just how hungry he was. Gy indicated that it would wait near one of the walls. Other robots were already there, waiting on their assigned masters to finish their meals.

  After dinner, Gy directed Tom to the auditorium then informed him it would return to the apartment. The auditorium was divided into sections based on species. Tom found the Terran section and took a seat near the front. It didn’t take long before the room was filled with the low rumble of conversations in almost a dozen different languages. Just as his time
piece indicated 20:00, a short human Peacekeeper walked onto the stage.

  The murmuring of the crowd quickly quieted down as the Peacekeeper approached the podium. As soon as all talking had ceased, he said, "Welcome to the Peacekeeper academy. I am its Director, Peacekeeper Swenson. Tomorrow you will begin a very intense, challenging, two year training program. The academy is not a competition. Peacekeepers need to work together as a team. No scores are given, only pass or fail. If you fail, we will make every effort to help you eventually pass that portion of the training program.

  "Each of you has been told that you have the option of dropping out of the program at any time. Please keep this in mind as you progress through your training. A person gives up a great deal to become a Peacekeeper. Your relationship to the rest of society will be dramatically altered. Look around this room. You will see Rouldians, Tholtarans, Terrans, and many other races. No more! Forget where you were born, forget what culture you are from, everyone in this room is a Peacekeeper answerable only to the Alliance Grand Council. And, most important of all, you will be subjected to the conversion process to change you into a cyborg. These are not easy changes to make and some of you will decide the sacrifice is too high.”

  Swenson paused to survey the room. The audience remained silent and attentive. “The academy can also be a dangerous place,” he went on, his quiet voice easily carrying to every corner of the auditorium. “The conversion process is not completely safe. There is a small, but statistically significant chance that one or two of you will be severely disabled or may even die in the operating room. There is no shame if you decide the risk is too great.”

  Swenson paused again. The room was so quiet that when he resumed speaking in a normal voice, it sounded as if he was yelling. “Not everyone will be able to complete the entire program. The reason for this may be medical, psychological, or perhaps an inability to cope with the program itself. If you are evaluated as one of these individuals, and you still desire to remain part of the organization, your training program will be altered. Not all Peacekeepers are cyborgs. Now go get some rest—you’re going to need it!"