Peacekeeper- God Complex

by Doug Farren

  “It’s almost as if this Proprietor entity doesn’t care about us,” Tom said.

  Using the suit’s external speaker, Lashpa said, “Don’t forget, I’m supposed to be a drone. Make sure you treat me like one after we land. We don’t know what sort of monitoring system is in place so let’s assume that even whispered conversations can be heard. I’ve instructed Krish to ensure I don’t make any movements or sounds that a drone would not make.”

  “Roger that. I’ll be in the command center while we land. I’ll be right back.”

  The Krish touched down in a clearing next to a small lake without incident. No drones approached and there was no sign of any activity from the Proprietor.

  “Drop the ramp,” Tom ordered as he left the command center. Lashpa was waiting at the top of the ramp when Tom arrived. Hefting a large backpack over his shoulders, he started down the ramp. At the bottom, he made a full survey of the surrounding area then turned and said, “LD-36, exit the ship!”

  Lashpa walked down the ramp, continued forward for another meter, then stopped. Her normally black combat armor had been covered in a thin layer of yellow Bendalex, a very durable material used as a protective shell on many industrial robots. It was flexible and also impervious to nearly all electromagnetic frequencies. Stenciled in large black letters was Lashpa’s drone designation—LD-36.

  “Krish,” Tom said, “Stow the ramp. Raise shield as soon as I’m clear.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Lashpa, do you copy?”

  “Copy you loud and clear,” Lashpa’s reply came through as if being sent from the Orion. Data link is good. Receiving a clear picture.”

  “I’m heading for the camp.” Tom said as he started walking. Turning his head slightly, he said, “LD-36, follow!”

  Lashpa, pretending to be nothing more than a smart cargo drone, obediently began following.

  The air was warm and muggy and a bit thicker than Tom was used to breathing. Looking to the west, he could see a line of clouds; the leading edge of the storm front they’d seen from space. Tom walked over to the edge of the lake. A cloud of tiny insects hung near the surface. They scattered when a much larger one showed up. It flew around in a complex pattern chasing one of the smaller bugs, eventually catching it before it flew off.

  The clearing they had landed in was created by a rocky outcropping that provided little soil for plants to take root. Fifty meters from the edge of the lake, the rock gave way to grass. The plants became progressively thicker until they crossed into the forest.

  Most of the trees were short, the tallest standing no more than about 11 meters. The upper canopy was thick, plunging the floor into a gloomy twilight. The ground was choked with a combination of decaying leaves, fallen branches, and a tangled web of vines and small plants trying to make the best of the meager sunlight that filtered through from above.

  After half an hour, Tom was beginning to wonder if they would be able to make it to where the crew of the Paranuth were camped before nightfall. Luck, however, seemed to be with them. An hour into their walk, they encountered a relatively clear path through the underbrush.

  Using his cybernetic vision, Tom examined the ground surrounding the path.

  “I’ve found what appears to be a well-traveled path through the woods,” he reported. “There are animal tracks here. The path heads in roughly the right direction and will be a lot faster than trying to force my way through all this underbrush.”

  The path allowed them to make much better time. Five minutes later, Lashpa’s voice came through on a private channel established between her combat armor and Tom’s implants, “We’re being followed.”

  Speaking by moving his tongue and throat muscles while keeping his mouth closed, Tom asked, “Animal or mechanical?” Understanding his intent, the small computer installed in his chest sent the message to Lashpa through a nearly undetectable private communications link.

  “My suit’s threat assessment system has identified it as an animal of some sort. It’s in the treetops moving in the same direction as us.”

  Tom stopped and pulled his backpack off. He spent a minute adjusting the straps then slung it back over his shoulder.

  “It’s definitely following us,” Lashpa said after another minute. “It stopped when you did and is maintaining the same distance behind us.”

  “The survey team said the animal they attempted to capture was emitting some type of signal. Are you picking up anything?”

  “Affirmative. It’s weak, but detectable. The signal is exceptionally complex.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the path turned away from the direction they needed to be moving and they were forced once again to move through the dense underbrush. A few minutes later, the woods began to thin out. After ten minutes, they found themselves at the edge of a wide expanse of grass. About a quarter of a kilometer away, they could see the sun glinting off the sides of the closest structures.

  “Krish,” Tom said, knowing the ship was always listening. “Contact the crew of the Paranuth and inform them that I have arrived. Describe my current location.”

  “Acknowledged,” the ship replied.

  Tom started walking towards the encampment, Lashpa dutifully followed.

  “The animal has remained in the woods,” she said after a moment.

  Chapter 14

  Two figures appeared in the distance. Tom boosted the magnification of his cybernetic eyes so he could get a closer look at them. A moment later, Krish identified them as Captain Maresh and Subcaptain Ferneth, the Paranuth’s executive officer.

  “You’re Terran!” the Captain said as soon as they were within easy talking distance. “Your name uses a Rouldian form indicating you have declared gragrakch. How is this possible?”

  “I have declared gragrakch with a Rouldian named Lashpa Krish,” Tom explained. “She is aboard her ship and listening. Lashpa, do you copy?”

  “Loud and clear Tom,” Lashpa’s voice issued from her combat armor. Tom and I are chuloogranack. This has been accepted and registered by the Rouldian Department of Genealogical Records.”

  The Captain turned and looked at his second in command, the waves traveling down both their tails clearly indicating their surprise. “Indeed,” the Captain replied. “You are taking a huge risk coming here. The Proprietor might not allow you to leave.”

  “I’m here to negotiate your release,” Tom replied. “Everything I see and hear is being retransmitted to the Alliance. I’m hoping you have a way of contacting this Proprietor you speak of.”

  “We’ve been here for over a month,” Subcaptain Ferneth replied. “The last time we heard from the Proprietor was when his drones brought the modified sections of our ship to us. That’s when we were told that we were his property. A drone slowly drifts overhead once or twice a day but it has ignored any attempt we’ve made towards contacting it. If they stick to the same pattern, a probe will appear tomorrow.”

  “There’s no doubt the Proprietor knows I’m here,” Tom said. “Perhaps he’ll be curious and speak to me.”

  Looking over Tom’s shoulder, Captain Maresh eyed the disguised combat armor. “That’s an interesting robot you have there. It looks Rouldian.”

  “It is,” Tom replied. “I borrowed it from one of the ships in the fleet. They said it was a grakch-class cargo drone. It’s come in handy since it can carry far more than I can.”

  Captain Maresh stared at Tom and tilted his head. “Indeed! I believe I’ve heard of them. They’re versatile and often become an indispensable member of the crew. So much so that some people tend to become attached to them. Make sure you return it in good condition.”

  “I intend to.” Tom replied.

  Captain Maresh turned his head slightly. “Subcaptain, run ahead and inform the crew that Peacekeeper Wilks will be staying with us. Have them make room in a storage shed for his cargo-bot.” Turning back to Tom, he added, “The storms here are unpredictable and intense. There’s no need to leave your bot exposed
to the weather.”

  “I appreciate it,” Tom replied, turning to follow the Captain as they slowly walked toward the camp. “From the looks of that horizon, there’s a storm heading this way now.”

  “Very well done,” Lashpa told him on their private channel. “I only hope that the Proprietor is not smart enough to realize that your reference to a grakch-class cargo drone was meant to tell the Captain that I am actually here.”

  “It’s a subtlety that would only be apparent to a Rouldian,” Tom replied.

  “Or a very special Terran,” Lashpa quickly added.

  “I think the Captain understood, but I’m not sure Subcaptain Ferneth did.”

  “I think Ferneth is still trying to process the fact that you are grakch.”

  “It’s too bad that the Proprietor is here,” Captain Maresh said, spreading his arms out. “This is a beautiful world and one many colonists would be happy to populate.”

  Tom plucked the top off one of the knee-high plants they were walking through. There was a small bud at the top that looked like it might bloom into a flower of some sort. “It’s obvious that the Proprietor, or the group of people calling themselves the Proprietor, are not native to this planet. There’s no sign of any advanced civilization ever having developed here.”

  “It goes a lot deeper than that,” the Captain replied. “One of my crew has a degree in planetary ecology and she’s convinced that this is a relatively new world. Have you seen the bipedal animal that’s common in this area?”

  “You mean like the one the Vartha’oon tried to capture?”

  “Yes. It’s the most advanced form of native life we’ve seen. The problem is that it’s too advanced.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  A swarm of insects suddenly appeared. They surrounded the two intruders for several seconds before heading off across the field to find a quieter place to feed.

  “Every world follows a fairly predictable pattern of evolution,” Captain Maresh explained, swatting at a straggler that was still buzzing around his head. “Single-cell organisms form first, then very simple plants. Animals come much later after the plants have created an oxygen-rich atmosphere. We’ve sent scouting parties out to find food we can eat. Other than the shavrath—the animal I mentioned earlier, we have yet to encounter anything more advanced than small ground-dwelling creatures and a plethora of insects. There are also a number of primitive birds. The shavrath is intelligent and seems out of place when compared to the rest of this planet’s ecosystem.”

  “Could it be a biological fluke?”

  “Maybe. But I should also point out that the Proprietor has forbidden us to hunt or interfere with the shavrath. It’s protecting it for some reason.”

  The grass came to an end as they entered the camp. Tom noticed that several wooden structures resembling log cabins had been built in addition to the easily visible metal buildings provided by the Proprietor.

  A small crowd met them. Tom was forced to explain several times why he had a Rouldian name and many people asked why the Alliance had sent a Terran instead of a Rouldian peacekeeper. Several of the crew expressed concern that the Alliance had taken so long to send someone and wondered why an armed rescue had not been attempted.

  A deep rolling sound of thunder caused Captain Maresh to abruptly end the gathering. Raising his voice, he shouted, “A storm is approaching and Peacekeeper Wilks needs to get his drone into a shelter. If the weather is clear in the morning, we will address the entire crew in the south field two hours after sunrise. Dismissed!”

  The crowd reluctantly began to disperse. Subcaptain Ferneth appeared. “Space has been cleared in a small storage shed. Are you planning on spending the night there or would you rather be with some of the crew. I can make some room in my cabin if you would like.”

  “I’m only planning on being here for one night,” Tom replied. “I’ll be fine in the shed.”

  Another boom of thunder caused everyone to glance up at the approaching storm. Sheets of lightning illuminated the cloud tops. The sun had vanished behind the lighter ominously dark clouds and what little light was left was rapidly vanishing. The wind was also beginning to pick up.

  “Subcaptain Ferneth will show you to the shed,” Captain Maresh said. “I will send someone to get you in the morning. Hopefully, this storm will follow the usual pattern and it will be gone by then. Good night Peacekeeper Wilks.”

  The shed was not much more than a metal box six meters long and four meters wide. It looked like it had been built from cut up bulkheads. The door was a type of manually operated airtight door found on many starships.

  “The Proprietor delivered three of these sheds to us two days after we arrived,” Subcaptain Ferneth said, as he opened the door. “One was filled with bottled water and the other two were packed with emergency food rations. It also gave us ten large structures that used to be the ship’s crew quarters and three others that were once part of the ship’s live food storage.”

  Tom turned to Lashpa and said, “LD-36, enter and move to the back.” Turning to Ferneth, he asked, “Did the Proprietor provide you with a source of power?”

  “Unfortunately, no. We almost lost several species of our food supply because of that but we managed to rig a wind-powered apparatus to keep their water properly oxygenated. We were, however, surprised to find a small supply of hand tools in one of the sheds. We used them to build a few wooden cabins.”

  “I notice you refer to the Proprietor as it or they,” Lashpa said, her voice echoing from inside the metal shed. “Does this mean you believe the Proprietor is not a singular entity?”

  “I doubt a single individual would have access to the weapons and technology we’ve seen demonstrated here,” Captain Maresh replied. “Nobody really knows what’s going on, but most of us are of the opinion that the Proprietor is not acting alone.”

  A large drop of rain splattered against Tom’s forehead. Looking up at the sky, Tom said, “You’d better get inside. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night Peacekeeper.”

  Tom stepped inside the shed and closed the door plunging the interior into complete blackness. “LD-36, turn on one of your lights.”

  Lashpa turned on a bank of lights built into the combat armor. “Tom, are you receiving me?” she said.

  “Loud and clear.”

  “I’ve been talking with Orion and Krish about this planet’s evolution,” she said. “They agree with the crew’s assessment that this is a relatively young world. They also agree that the shavrath is an animal that is out of place considering this planet’s current state of evolutionary development.”

  Tom unshouldered his backpack and pulled a food bar out of another one strapped to Lashpa’s armor. “Do you think the shavrath has been genetically altered by the Proprietor?”

  “It’s a possibility. From what we’ve seen so far, the animal appears to be quite intelligent.”

  Holding the bar in his mouth, Tom unzipped a pocket attached to a small fuel cell power unit strapped to Lashpa’s back. “Why? What purpose would that serve?”

  “I don’t know. Are you tired?”

  He extracted two power cables and plugged them into the generator. He plugged the other ends into himself and Lashpa’s combat armor. After making sure that the power accumulators were being recharged, he found a clear spot on the floor and sat down, propping himself against the wall.

  “Not really. The days here are pretty short. Chess?”

  “I would appreciate it.”

  “LD-36, turn off the lights and power down to standby. Krish, put Lashpa and I into virtual mode so we can play chess.”

  Krish created a simplified partial virtual reality world where Tom and Lashpa could see themselves sitting across from each other with a chess set between them. Anyone watching from a hidden camera would have seen Tom sitting perfectly still.

  Tom had just moved a knight into a position that threatened both a bishop and a pawn when a tremendous
clap of thunder shook the shed. Even though he was operating in virtual reality mode, his cybernetic ears were still active and the concussion startled him. He quickly stood up and looked around the room.

  His cybernetics had automatically turned on a small but powerful infrared light built into his permanently attached helmet. The sound of rain could be heard beating down on the roof of the shed creating a constant background noise.

  “It’s going to be a long night,” he muttered to himself as shed vibrated again from a more distant lightning strike.

  The storm lasted until just after midnight local time. Lashpa had just won their second game. “I think I’m going to try to get a little sleep,” Lashpa announced. “You should too.”

  “At least I won’t have to mute my audio implants,” Tom replied. “Krish, wake me when the sun is up. Good night Lashpa.”

  “Good night Tom. Krish, end VR.”

  Chapter 15

  Tom woke up to Krish’s gentle voice informing him that the sun was now over the horizon. He quickly discovered he had a full bladder. Cracking open the door, he saw that the clouds were gone. The only evidence of last night’s storm were the puddles of water and the extreme humidity. The air smelled crisp and clean.

  “Good morning Tom,” Lashpa said. “I hope you slept well.”

  “Good morning. I did. But right now, I have to pee,” Tom replied. “It’s just starting to get light out.”

  Tom stepped into the deserted compound and looked around. He was about to find a spot in an out of the way corner when he noticed someone coming out of one of the metal sleeping quarters. “Excuse me!” he shouted. As soon as he saw he had the person’s attention, he asked, “Did the Proprietor provide you with a bathroom?”

  “He did not. We had to build our own. Follow me, I’m heading there myself.”

  The differences between male and female Rouldians were subtle and difficult for most Terrans to detect. Visually, the two were virtually identical. Female Rouldians have a scent gland located just below their ears near the jawline. This causes a small bump and the scales surrounding it are smaller than the same scales of the male. This individual was a female.