The Kryl Queen

by Chris Burton

  “The society exists to protect its members and further their lives. The possible inclusion on the HSL list is an absolute contradiction to this most basic of premise. A premise you swore to uphold.”

  Tom Roslyn knew this would be bad. The society was indeed powerful and could sanction and influence virtually anything. He was the President of the ECG though and he wasn’t going to be pushed around that easily.

  Seawall continued, “There will be no repeat of this in the forthcoming HSL listing. No society members will be included on the list. I believe you understand what I am saying.”

  “You know perfectly well I cannot exclude anybody from this list. If the public were to find out there would be an uproar.”

  “That is probably putting it mildly Tom. But that is your problem, not mine. I think you know what could happen if you don’t exclude members of our society. We will block the police, the security services, the legal services, and commerce and government departments. We will grind the planet to a halt and stop any persons from being delivered to the Kryl and then of course there is your personal situation; I could no longer guarantee your protection from those who would want to hurt you.”

  Tom Roslyn suddenly felt sick to the stomach. His ridiculous assertion, last night that everything would be all right, was in tatters. He had no choice but to comply, but how he would achieve this was another matter.

  “Ron, you are asking the impossible of me. I will need time to look at ways to make this happen. It won’t be easy, that is for sure. Quite apart from the vested interests of the lodges, there are many others who would seek exclusion for the people they represent. This could get very nasty.”

  “It is already very nasty. You need to find a way to get out of this appalling contract with the Kryl.

  How you do that and how you exclude the societies members is your problem, but please be absolutely sure I will shut this planet down, if you don’t comply.”

  Seawall stood and grabbed the Presidents hand. He shook it briefly, turned, and headed to the door. He was gone without saying another word.

  Roslyn sat back in his reclining desk chair and put his hands behind his head. How the hell am I going to get out of this?

  The answer was not immediately forthcoming, but his trusted aide would no doubt cast her opinions on the subject. He was just about to summon her, when she entered and sat down in front of Roslyn’s desk.

  “Obviously that was as bad as I think it was?”

  “Yes…I presume he threatened you to make you set up that meeting so quickly?”

  “Yes. I no longer attend lodge or society meetings. I don’t need them. There was little point trying to deny him a meeting with you, that is for sure. Can I assume he has asked for society members to be excluded?”

  “Yes.”

  “Others will want to be excluded too.”

  “Yes.” Roslyn hoped for words of wisdom from his confidant.

  “There must be a way round this?”

  “You know as well as I do how powerful they are. If we leave this, the whole planet will come to a standstill, the Kryl agreement will fall apart and without Alpha and any way of defeating them, the people on this planet will be extinguished.”

  “Then we must comply. Do you want me to draw up a list of other groups of people we should exclude?”

  “Yes. It will get out…and when it does, the infrastructure will fail along with this government. People can’t tolerate the lists as they are. Quite how they will react when they know certain persons are excluded because of their position in society… Kate, I am not sure I can do this anymore.”

  “If you fall, the Vice-President will be faced with the same problem…although he is not a member of a lodge.”

  “He does not have to be. The society chiefs can still exert their influence over everyone else. Okay…compile a list and we will have to look at ways we can keep it quiet. What time is my next meeting?”

  “Ten-thirty.”

  “Cancel it. Everybody else can wait.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Desperation

  The Pantheon closed to within three days of their destination, when the ion drive finally failed. The drive link power generators ran for a further twenty-two hours before they too stopped. Wesley Smith ordered the patched-up back-up generator to be deployed and for a full suite of distress messages to be sent out. There was no choice now.

  “Back-up on-line, sir. We have power.”

  “Restrict to agreed essential systems only. Number One, we need to start to restrict personnel movements and to keep hold of their whereabouts. If it comes down to it, we are going to have to move people around to make best use of air pockets. With no drive and only a limited back up power supply, we are now very much reliant on who is out there. What progress do we have on the shuttle return?”

  “She is still having trouble lifting off. There’s a lot of seismic activity. They are going to try again in about three hours.”

  “Okay. I will be down in engineering. Keep me abreast of any developments.”

  Smith had not left his station for over twelve hours and he welcomed the chance to stretch his legs. He allowed himself to briefly reflect on their position. Lieutenant Commander Benoir looks scared…as do the rest of the crew. I am going to have to bullshit my way through this, just to keep everyone going. It was clear at some stage, the generator would fail and the clock would start to tick. How long they had, no one knew. Whether anyone would find them before the air ran out, no one knew. He had to show strength and belief.

  The Chief was at his work station when Smith arrived in Engineering. The CO smiled in apprehension.

  “I am presuming all is okay?”

  “Yes, Skip. The generator is…working. We have full environmental capability and a full air flow. Very few systems are operational other than that.”

  “Okay…we are still assuming it will fail?”

  “Yes, when the coils work their way loose. If you are looking for some kind of time scale I’m afraid I don’t have one. It’s a guessing game.”

  “Can we repair the coils?”

  “Thirty-six hours minimum to take her apart, re-coil and then put her back together. That is assuming all her other parts stay together. Air would run out inside the thirty-six hours.”

  “Yes, but we could deploy cylinders.”

  “They may be needed elsewhere.”

  This was a frank and open exchange between the Engineering Chief and his CO. They had known each other for a long time and in many ways, Smith regarded Benjamin Took as his right hand man. His relationship with his XO was different; it was good, but not so trusting.”

  “Ben…I will make whatever decision is necessary to preserve the crew and the ship. If we need to use cylinders to help us put the generator back together then that is what we will do. In the meantime, I need a power boost. We want to send some micro comms into deep space.”

  “No shit. Wesley there is nothing left. We have identified critical systems and there is no room for maneuver.”

  “Then we will have to find some. If we were to reduce to minimum shield capability. That would create some juice.”

  “Yes…and then our Kryl friends will come along and finish us off. If we power down the shields; there is no going back. If you want to launch comms into space from a Teutonic bay, there aren’t many things which use more power.”

  “Any other ideas?”

  “No. We could flush out a section of the ship. Then we need less power for environmental controls. Again, once down, it would be down for good. But…on its own that is not enough. I am guessing we can’t ask the shuttles or Jump Ships to help?”

  “Not for the moment, local atmospherics are preventing take-off.”

  “Looks like lady-luck continues to follow us.”


  Benjamin Took was suddenly distracted. He stared at his desktop monitor.

  “Ah!” His voice showed a deep sense of dismay.

  “The generator is overheating. The coils have come loose.”

  * * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Benjamin Took confirmed everyone’s worse fears. The generator was off-line and she was not coming back.

  * * * *

  “This is Commander Smith…I have to advise we no longer have an operational power source to generate our vital systems. We are therefore reliant on the existing air supply within the environmental systems. We are waiting for shuttle craft to depart to airlift us to safety. Everyone will be safe as long as you comply with any requests we make to assist this process. Until you hear differently, you are ordered to stay within your current designated areas.”

  The CO ended his ship wide transmission and summoned his first officer to the ready room. The lighting was dimmed to the lowest operational level and Smith had to squint to check it was his XO when she entered.

  “Claudette, we are going to get out of this.”

  “If a whole series of things go our way, Wesley. The chances of either the shuttles being able to take off and reach us in time or a passing ship answering our distress call is unlikely, to say the least. Yes…there is a chance, but it is remote. You are going to have to come to terms with that and also the crew need the opportunity to do so too. Your message was not truthful.”

  “Have you come to terms with it?”

  “No! But I am realistic. We are unlikely to survive this.”

  Smith decided to change tack. Maybe it was a character flaw, but for certain he had far from given up.

  “What was the last weather report we had from the moon surface?”

  Claudette Benoir was about to protest, when she surmised that this was just the CO’s way of dealing with it. He would come round in time.

  “Our last communication was about two hours before the generator went down. A new storm front has just come in. The seismic activity had eased off, but the two are intrinsically linked and it has probably increased again now. There is no way either of those shuttles has been able to depart and by now, unless they have it will be too late by the time they get to us and the Jump ships would be grounded too.”

  “There was a window between the fronts. I am still optimistic that one or both would have been able to leave. As for the distress beacons. As we were unable to send out the micro comms the distress call range is limited. But there are ships in this sector; we know that already.”

  “Wesley you surely don’t think the Kryl will come back and rescue us?”

  “No of course not. There are others and there is time. Not much…but there is still time.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Debris

  One week after the incident with the Lavucian ships, Patrol Ship HR87 reached the coordinates specified by the Jump Ship Commanders. Jake Carter XO continued his endurance sessions and remained effectively in command; but now as the mission reached its operational stage, Bill Chadwick joined him on the bridge.

  “Scanners are picking up debris two thousand kilometers to starboard.”

  “Take us in for a closer look.” Jake was still giving the commands despite the CO’s presence.

  In no time, they were surrounded by several hundred pieces of fuselage. Closer inspection revealed that these were the remains of both the Hermes and the Peking.

  “There is no sign of anything significant from the Pantheon. She was the larger ship; if she was destroyed you would have expected something.”

  “Yes, I agree. I think we have to consider she may have got away. I suggest we look for plasma trails.”

  “Agreed. I presume we have to catalogue the remains?”

  “Yes. This now becomes a floating war grave.” Chadwick shook his head.”If this was the Kryl, then clearly they don’t think this war is over either. Don’t spend too long Number One. The Pantheon is now our priority.”

  Once again Chadwick left the bridge; leaving Carter and the two bridge crew to contemplate the loss of two of Alpha’s finest.

  Jake was angry now; The Kryl just kept on taking; soon it would be time to give some back; but that was for later and he knew once again he would play a central part. Right now, there were more pressing matters. The question was where was the Pantheon?

  Fifteen minutes later, the ship had locked onto a pursuit course following a vapor trail from an Alpha cruisers ion drive. It looked like they were heading to one of the planetary clusters in the Darius sector; a short hop at stellar speed but a good week and half’s travel at maximum ion thrust. They could be anywhere and there was no certainty which system they would head to. Jake opted to follow at sub-light speed to give them a greater chance of finding the Pantheon.

  * * * *

  There had been no power now for twenty-four hours and some areas of the ship fared worse than others. Alpha cruisers were fitted with independent power supplies to each room, allowing for emergency lighting and door operations, but many of these in the lower sections of the ship had already failed. Those personnel confined to these sections were trapped and the air supply was thinning. Emergency comms devices allowed crucial two –way communication between the bridge and all parts of the ship; but there was nothing Wesley Smith could do for these people or for anyone else for that matter. The plan was to spread crew around the ship and allow them to breathe only their own air, rather than share it with someone else. The rationale from a commander’s perspective was that losses could be reduced if pockets of air persisted in some areas but not in others.

  Crewman Connolly was in his quarters when the ship’s generator failed. He had managed to force himself through two bulkhead doors to an inner hallway, where he and three other crew members were trapped.

  “Sir, we are trapped. There is no air down here and the lighting is…useless. I don’t know how long we can survive.”

  Smith tried to remain calm. He needed to reassure his crew, even if for some there was no hope.”We are doing everything we can here for you and we are hopeful that recent activity in the system means someone is on to our distress call. Just hang in there.”

  He lied of course. There was nothing on his comms device, which he had linked up remotely to the various comms beacons. He looked around. Nobody was doing anything; there was nothing they could do. By now, they all accepted their fate and were preparing silently. He looked at his comms device. The estimated air supply was down to six hours and twenty-two minutes. Did that mean ship wide? He could not just sit here and do nothing. He knew it was hopeless but if he could at least help someone.

  He left the bridge without comment and headed out. The ship was eerily quiet, the only noise, the creaking of bulkheads. He wondered whether they would now sever and put an end to this torture once and for all. The corridor was lit only by the amber glowing floor lights which ran down the sides, breaking only for a corridor or door. Smith did not try to access any of these. He knew where he was going.

  The air was sparse now. Smith found himself struggling to breathe as he gulped down air every few seconds. He knew he could not go any further like this. Doubling back he located the nearest emergency station; a coded cavity closet housing hand blasters, oxygen, water and medical supplies. The oxygen cylinder was a short term breathing aid, with a total of about ten minute’s breathable air. Smith would use it sparingly as he continued his journey downwards towards engineering. His quest was to seek out the Chief and also to look at the water tanks.

  Engineering was as quiet as the rest of the ship. An unnerving experience in comparison to the usual hustle and bustle of the ships work house. The Chief was laid out on the floor as usual. However, he seemed fine. Curiously in this large open space the air was still breathable in stark comparison to its surrounding areas.

 
“Never give up, do you, Chief?”

  “Neither do you or you wouldn’t be down here. I hope you did not waste that cylinder to just come down and see me?”

  “Hardly. What are you working on?”

  “A patch to the ion drive. If we can get the sub-generators back up, it will give me the chance to finish it. As it is…there’s no chance; but as you say I never give up. I understand that things are pretty bleak up there?”

  “Yes, to say the least. Chief…I wanted to run something by you. Will the sub-water air filtration devices work in the water tanks?”

  Benjamin Took looked surprised and then realized what his CO was alluding to. He laughed before replying.”It’s a good job you and I are built from the same stock, Wesley! Yes, we could breathe underwater in the tanks. The oxygen supply would give us maybe ten hours extra per tank, but we could put say twenty, thirty people in each tank…unbelievable. How come no one thought of this already?”

  “Who knows? I guess you need a clear mind. How many filters do we have?”

  “Plenty. They will be located in armed supplies though. The other issue being that people feel uncomfortable using them. I guess that’s a small price to pay if it saves their lives. How come you didn’t comm.link me?”

  “Trying to save the battery and I was already half-way down the ship, when the idea hit me.”

  The small filtration devices to which Wesley Smith referred were composed simply of a narrow horizontal bar, just fifteen centimeters in length, which you held in your mouth. The bar was secured by a band around the head. This simple device filtered out the oxygen from the water and allowed the user to breathe underwater, for an indefinite period of time; restricted only by the volume of water and the oxygen that could be extracted from it. The water tanks aboard the Pantheon were self replicating when the power generators were working, meaning the vast quantities of water consumed and used throughout the ship in a long journey did not require re-supplying every few weeks. The tanks were full and the oxygen contained within them was potential lifeblood to a large number of the remaining crew members.