Children of the Dark World

by Will Townsend

  “I yield to your judgment sir,”

  “It bothers me too Callum, but what bothers me more is that I think the corporations have, shall we say, purchased influence on the Council. It was a black day when the Council gave them the four ships to refurbish.”

  “I agree with both statements Admiral, but what can we do?”

  Ngata leaned in close to the holovision. His face was a study of intensity and his eyes, normally fierce, had taken themselves to a new level. “You can get that ship ready to go as fast as possible and get it away from Earth. Break records Commander. Push the rules. That’s why I lobbied for you. I need someone who won’t go along with delays and stomach corporate procrastination. Anything you need Commander, you come to me, do you understand, don’t let the system play you or those corporate bastards either. I wouldn’t trust the lot of them as far as my grandmother could throw’em.”

  “You can trust me Admiral,” Farr said sincerely.

  The Admiral’s face softened. “I know I can son. I’ll make the arrangements for Captain Grebe. I don’t want you involved except for attending the funeral.”

  “Yes sir.”

  They’d buried Grebe eight days later. The Admiral had arranged for side boys and marines. It was an odd display to be sure, with side boys and marines and only two mourners, neither one of whom had even been born when this man died. But it was the best they could do to follow the traditions of the sea, as they were called. Even though the sea was now outer space the traditions stubbornly refused to die.

  The burial had drawn some irate memos from Council member Trekos but the Admiral had shielded him from any political fallout and Trekos didn’t have the firepower to take on Ngata by himself.

  Farr drew himself back to the present as he floated onto the bridge chewing over the old memories. They’d been able to download the entire data system of the Princess and it had contained all of the information on the asteroid colonies including one that had never been disclosed. Instead of thirty-one off world colonies there had been thirty-two, but the information was scant on the thirty second outpost including its’ location. It had also verified Captain Grebe’s story.

  Admiral Ngata had asked him to move the refurbishment along and Farr had sworn he would, so he’d spent every waking moment on board the ship, only leaving when Ngata ordered him to. And Ming had done the same and Farr had no idea why the man had done so. Military men are used to a certain type of individual that seems hell bent on ingratiating himself to whatever powers may be. Brown nose was the polite term. The other term was a bit too harsh for Farr to ever use. But Ming was certainly no one trying to win favors from Farr.

  They frequently butted heads on the upgrades that were being installed on the Resolution but far from irritating Farr, he valued Ming’s contrary opinion. He’d even grudgingly agreed to several suggestions once he’d worked the problem through a few times. Which was even stranger, he told himself, because Ming’s position onboard the ship was chief biologist. But he often demonstrated an intuitive mind in electronics, propulsion and support systems. It didn’t add up, but he couldn’t deny that the ship had come along faster thanks to Ming’s assistance.

  And it bothered him that he couldn’t tell Ming the true tale of the corporate ships, and in particular, Captain Grebe. Ming had been here almost since the beginning and Farr felt that he deserved to be in the inner circle, and, more importantly, at least to Farr, to know that the Resolution’s former captain and crew were not cowards.

  Farr seated himself at the holographic table and opened a channel to Admiral Ngata. The admiral himself answered, meaning he was just about to call Farr himself or was anticipating his call.

  “Good afternoon Commander. I hope you’re well. What is the status of our ship?”

  “The commanding officer of Resolution reports the ship is fully ready for deployment Admiral and is awaiting further orders.”

  “Very well then, congratulations Commander. The order is given. You will embark on phase one of your mission in five days. The Council, by only a narrow vote I am sorry to say, has approved my request to send Resolution outbound. You and your crew will be the first Earthmen to sail for another world in a century. I… I’m very proud of you Callum. What you’ve accomplished in getting the ship ready for its’ mission is nothing short of remarkable and is more than I ever expected, and I always expect a lot of you.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that Admiral.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I can’t take all of the credit for getting the ship ready, but you already know that. Biologist Ming has been invaluable. I don’t know why and, frankly I’m shocked at his knowledge of systems, but I don’t believe I could’ve done it without him.”

  “Commander, I’ve been in the service for thirty-two years, which is more than enough time for me to figure out when one of my officers has a special request, so do me the courtesy of cutting to the chase.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” Farr responded with a chuckle. “Since he’s been here almost from the start, I’d like to brief him on the actual events that occurred when the Calamity struck. It’s his ship too and I would like him to know her history.”

  “What my commanders disclose, and to whom, I consider their prerogative, but save some time and show him the log instead.”

  “It’s not on our system anymore Admiral.”

  “It is now. Your eyes only. Disseminate the information as you see fit.” Ngata’s hands moved across the holo-display and on his end Farr saw “Attention: Commander’s Eyes Only” appear under communications.

  “I’m also sending you Ming’s ‘full’ record as well.”

  “You mean to say that I don’t have his full record?” Farr said, his commander’s hackles rising.

  “No, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t my doing. When the Council was screening the crews they only wanted the information that pertained to the discipline the scientists labored in. Everything else was considered irrelevant, except by me.”

  Farr started. “You picked Ming, Admiral?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why?

  “I had my reasons, some of which you’ve discovered on your own and the rest you may figure out after you read his complete file. I’ve been watching out for your sorry ass since you were a snot-nosed ensign so don’t expect me to stop now.”

  “I know that Admiral and I’ll always be grateful,” Farr said seriously. “And you’ll never know just how grateful I am.”

  “This is getting a little maudlin for me commander so I’ll get back to work,” Ngata said in a dry voice. “I suggest you do the same. I want you down here tomorrow for your send-off party, is that understood?”

  Now it was Farr’s turn to use the dry voice. “Understood Admiral.”

  The admiral chuckled, “You might even have some fun Callum.”

  “At an official function?”

  “You may be right,” Ngata said ruefully rubbing his chin. Then he looked at Farr with stern eyes. “Be there anyhow.” The holograph disappeared.

  Farr smiled affectionately at the vanished image. His first tour as a twenty year old ensign had been under the then Commander Ngata of the E.S.S. Vigilant. The Vigilant was a Lao class airship, designed primarily for humanitarian missions but packing quite the wallop if some bantam rooster despot felt like getting frisky.

  Even after the efforts of Lansing and Lao and the World Council afterwards, there were still areas on the Earth that had not been brought back to civilization by the Long Road. Frequently petty dictators would arise in an area and subjugate whatever people were still living within the region. But their efforts to build their petty empires brought them on the radar of the World Council and a ship would be dispatched once more to relieve the suffering of humanity.

  Farr frequently wondered why it was that they’d never discovered a democratic paradise among the areas still not under the control of the World Council. He suspected that there was a flaw in humanity’s soul brought on by the mi
llennia of suffering at the hands of despots. Always it was the same. There were fair words and some good deeds by the would be potentate to ease the minds of the people, and then, the eventual decline of the freedoms of the populace as they found themselves enmeshed in a trap without an exit and the man (or woman) they’d willingly followed before was now their jailer.

  The Vigilant’s first assignment after Farr had reported onboard was just such a mission. The troubled area was in the Southern Pacific on some large islands that were part of the mainland of New Zealand before the Calamity. There had been sightings from passing ships on the new trade routes of old twenty-first century aircraft conducting reconnaissance style flights around some of the islands.

  The World Council did not interfere with any society that had managed to survive on its own and only sought voluntary participation in world government by the societies on Earth. This was the first tenet of the Long Road as laid out to them by Lansing and Lao. So they took no action on the matter for several years because there was plenty to occupy their time in the rebuilding of a world.

  It was not until a transport ship disappeared in the area after sending several frantic distress calls that the Vigilant was dispatched. As an untested ensign, Farr remembered his excitement upon entering the area. He also remembered Ngata’s pensive mood as he studied the holographic charts of the islands.

  It had happened suddenly and seemed to catch most of the operations team off balance.

  The first warning anyone had was when the air surveillance operator dropped his communication set as he dove for his display.

  “Inbound air target, altitude five hundred meters, speed eight hundred kilometers, range forty-five kilometers, identification unknown, altitude descending,” the operator nearly screamed. His voice was so loud the lack of a communication set was not really a problem. The operations crew just sat there in stunned silence not understanding what was happening. That is, with the exception of Ngata and Farr. Both instantly recognized a missile profile from their training and moved into action.

  “Weapons systems on, countermeasure deployment, now!” Ngata yelled through the confusion. No one moved with the exception of Farr. Shunting the stunned ship defense coordinator aside he activated the targeting radars and spun up the launcher. He then switched over to the countermeasures display and deployed standard threat three, the highest countermeasures available.

  “Range! Status!” the Commander growled. Farr having taken the seat continued the mission. “Vampire range thirty-six kilometers and closing. Missile availability in .. forty-five seconds. Countermeasures should be deploying .. now!”

  Several booms rattled the ship from two different areas. High temperature flare projectiles launched from the aft of the ship hoping to fool the missiles infrared sensors and several rapid blooming canisters of shredded aluminum launched off the forward part of the ship and deployed to the left and right of the Vigilant spreading into clouds to fool the missile’s radar.

  “Missiles online captain!” Farr shouted.

  “Fire two!”

  Two Defender missiles leapt from the Vigilant’s undercarriage and raced off after the incoming threat that had become momentarily confused by the multiple targets and sensor readings. They never had time to recover before the Defenders blotted them out of the sky.

  “Turn the ship about helmsman! Show them our ass! They’ll think we got the message. Mr. Farr, track the missiles back to point of origin and prepare a Zebra for launch. Set three waypoints, the first one in the direction we’re going.”

  “Aye aye captain.” Farr worked at preparing the difficult shot the captain had ordered. A Zebra was a homing missile designed to take out enemy missile sites. It homed in on the fire control radar the site used and was difficult to detect because of the multiple waypoints one could send the missile through to reach the target. But launching it to a waypoint that was probably one hundred and eighty degrees opposite to the suspected target was straining the missile’s capabilities. He settled on a scenario that should be theoretically feasible. His display traced the path of the erstwhile inbound missile and gave a series of estimated possibilities for locations.

  “Firing solution complete captain, recommend two missiles with opposite lines of approach.”

  “Do it and fire!”

  “Birds away!” The jolt was felt throughout the ship as the wake from the missiles rocked the ship. They flew five kilometers out and then one turned left and one turned right heading to their programmed waypoints

  “Helmsman, bring us back around to our original course. Make our speed two hundred and fifty kilometers.”

  “Helmsman aye. Our course is two three zero degrees, speed two hundred and fifty kilometers.”

  “All right boys; let’s go see who has the nards or the ignorance to take a shot at the Vigilant. Farr you have weapons and detection. Solis, Shen assist him.” The erstwhile detection and weapons officers, to their credit, immediately proceeded in support of Farr. Their world had changed in less than two minutes and they were still catching up.

  “We have two aircraft gaining altitude over the island. We have tracking and tone.” Farr called out looking over the shoulder of the technician who was now in his proper seat. Tracking and tone meant that they could destroy the target because their fire control radars were locked onto it.

  “Very well, hold fire until they show hostile intent, your discretion Ensign.” That last surprised the people around the bridge because normally a captain reserved that call to himself, but Ngata had already seen something he liked and wanted to see how far he could trust the young man.

  “Aye captain. Zebra one and two have reached their final waypoints and are loitering. Missile launch! Missile launch! Lock on target!”

  “Target acquired,” Lieutenant Solis responded.

  “Fire!”

  “Birds away!”

  “The two air contacts are turning inbound. By heat signature and electronics signature I would make them out to be some of the old Australian Delphi’s,” Lieutenant Shen called out.

  “Very well,” Farr said, “lock onto them and let them know we mean business.”

  “Tracking both targets. I have Zebra one and Zebra two converging on launch site.”

  “Are unknowns one and two still inbound?”

  “Still inbound at fifty kilometers,” Shen reported.

  “Light them up with the fire control and see if he gets the message,” Farr ordered.

  “Locked on and radiating fire control solution.”

  By this time every sensor on the aircraft, assuming they still had the original sensors, they were over a hundred years old after all, would be screaming at the pilots that they were standing into danger and if they wanted to live they’d better bug out.

  “Still inbound at twenty three kilometers.”

  “Very well, lock on birds.”

  “Birds locked on.”

  “Standby to fire.” Farr had hedged slightly, waiting for the captain to intercede. When the targets reached twenty kilometers with no sign of turning, Farr gave the order.

  “Weapons free on one and two.”

  “Birds away on one and two!”

  The missiles left the undercarriage and streaked for the targets. At the last minute they attempted to jink but the missiles slammed into each of them at Mach three.

  “Targets destroyed,” Shen said softly. “Looks like a hit with the Zebra’s as well.” They’d just killed at least two men (or women for they had no way of knowing) and the thought was rippling around the bridge.

  “Well done.” Farr had said and clasped Shen’s and Solis’s shoulders.

  “Yes,” Captain Ngata had told them, “well done to all. You had a rough start but you recovered. I want you to remember when you think of this moment that those aircraft were equipped with Hummingbird missiles with a range of ten kilometers. If they would’ve closed to under ten kilometers and fired there is nothing you could’ve done that would’ve stopped them
from acquiring and hitting us. Look around you. Your shipmates would’ve been torn apart, the Vigilance would’ve slowly fallen from the sky and, in the unlikely event anyone had survived, they would’ve been set upon by whoever is controlling that island and probably executed or enslaved.”

  His face had turned somber at that moment and his voice had softened. “I’ve been through this drill five times before people. On my very first mission we encountered a small dictatorship that someone had set up in Argentina. Their weapons were not as sophisticated as the ones you just saw. They were twentieth century stuff. But even twentieth century stuff can kill you if you hesitate. The officer in charge of operations hesitated on that particularly day and he died. But he took eighteen of my shipmates with him. Never hesitate. For the sake of your people, never hesitate.” He’d finished forcefully. He’d then continued on in a soft, quiet voice. “You can feel bad about it later, because that’s what good people do.”

  Farr had looked at the time indicators and was shocked to see only eight minutes had elapsed from the moment of first contact. It was incredible. Their world had changed in just eight minutes and they’d never be the same again.

  “Let’s proceed up to six hundred meters and set a course for the center of the island,” the captain had ordered. Cruising along at a little over six hundred meters they soon reached the center of the island and the source of trouble.

  It was the first time Farr had ever seen a slaver’s stronghold and he’d been wildly interested for obvious reasons. The island was actually a portion of several mountains that were left after the lowlands of New Zealand were inundated in the aftermath of the Calamity.

  In the interior they found a city of sorts. A few grand buildings dotted the landscape surround by acres and acres of hovels. Ngata told Farr that he’d seen its kind before and that the captains of the Earth Service had written volumes on the subject.

  Farr had read at the Academy that after the Calamity many of the wealthy had surrounded themselves with security forces, and the poor had flocked outside of their conclaves, most of the time to overrun it, but sometimes the poor had just acclimated themselves to serfdom. The fleet still ran across these enclaves now and again the literature had read.