The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.

by Sam B Miller II

  Tom nodded his head silently, wondering how so many people seemed to know his parents. Little did he realize how vital his parents had been and were to be to the ultimate defense of humanity.

  Saying his goodbyes and watching his father lead his crying mother to the car and drive away, Tom picked up his bags and followed First Captain Jenson into the cavernous Chapel of West Point Military Academy.

  1977

  A soft chime and a mild electric shock awakened Hisspat Zeck from the dreamless unconsciousness induced by his stasis pod. Reaching up to toggle the release lever above his head, he pushed the hinged cover of his pod up and away, blinking his eyes to adjust them to the soft light glowing from the ceiling of the stasis chamber. Ringing the wall of the circular room were 29 other stasis pods, only 23 of them occupied by his remaining crew. The five empty pods should have been filled by the crew of the scout ship, UurBereck, but they were dead, killed on planet HG-281 by the accursed bipedal beings who called themselves humans.

  Flipping the toggles which would begin the awakening process for his remaining crew, Hisspat walked to the control room of his ship and consulted his data screen. True to their programming, the computers controlling the mother ship, VrrSilliac Xur, had navigated her unerringly back to within one planetary orbit's distance from the Chrysallaman home planet, Chrysalis. Keying instructions into his data pad, Hisspat called up an external camera view of his home planet. It appeared nothing had changed on the planet itself in the 60 years and six months that had elapsed since his expedition had departed on its mission to explore the colonization target labeled planet HG-281.

  A blinking yellow light on his uplink panel attracted his attention. Pushing the pulsing light, he activated the telepathic communication channel.

  Instantly, a clear and concise voice within his mind said, "Commander of the VrrSilliac Xur, respond immediately, or you will be fired upon. Repeat. Commander of the mother ship, VrrSilliac Xur, respond immediately, or you will be fired upon."

  Gathering his thoughts quickly, Hisspat Zeck replied, "This is Hisspat Zeck, Commander of the mother ship, VrrSilliac Xur, entry code HSS zero nine eight. Requesting permission to land."

  Just a moment later came the reply, "Permission granted. The Glorious Emperor, His Majesty Terr Horcunt demands you attend him directly with your report."

  "Understood."

  If it was possible for a six and a half foot tall, dark green lizard to turn a ghastly shade of light ash and noticeably wither with age, then Hisspat Zeck did a great impression. Settling back worriedly in his flight chair, Hisspat contemplated his swift and painful death, wondering half-heartedly how many seconds he would live once the Emperor heard for the first time in the recorded history of the illustrious Chrysallaman Empire, one of its scouting missions had suffered destruction and death at the hands of an ignorant tribe of savages. Shuddering as he imagined his severed head rolling across the tiles of the Emperor's throne room, Hisspat vomited a little bile into his mouth, cringing at the bitter taste it left on his tongue.

  Within two hours, the mother ship, VrrSilliac Xur was cradled in its berth on the tarmac of the vast spaceport located on the outskirts of Trissalic, the largest city on the planet Chrysalis. As he exited his ship, armed guards surrounded him and escorted him toward a waiting vehicle. Fear clutched at his heart as Hisspat wondered what was going on. He had commanded two survey expeditions before the ill-fated voyage to HG-281. Never had he been taken to the Emperor immediately upon returning to base, and an armed guard for escort had never been part of the protocol. Something was very wrong.

  He was marched directly to the palatial, gold bricked building in the center of Trissalic housing the royal family. The throne room of His Majesty Terr Horcunt was 300 paces long and 150 paces wide. Heavily built double doors of diamond glass, each five feet wide and fifteen feet tall, opened upon a high gallery topped with an arched ceiling. The floor was tiled with a black stone polished to a sheen so perfect that as you walked across it, a mirror-like reflection of yourself appeared to walk along with you. At the far end of the enormous room was a dais ten feet high made of alternating layers of polished white and black stone. At the apex of the dais was a throne made of intricately faceted diamond glass. Strategically placed spot lights shown on the diamond throne causing it to sparkle in a dazzling display of beautiful rainbow colors.

  Sitting on the throne was His Majesty, Emperor Terr Horcunt. Horcunt was an aging Chrysallaman at least 95 years old. His green skin was mottled with age spots and practically every inch of his exposed skin was wrinkled. His once coal black eyes showed the large, gray, cloudy swirls of cataracts. When Zeck had departed on his expedition to HG-281, Emperor Terr Horcunt had been just 34 years old, in vigorous health and haughty with royal power. Now he was wasted by the crippling weight of long years sitting on the diamond throne juggling the politics and responsibilities of high office.

  His Majesty may have been an old man who didn't have many years of life left in him, but his mind was very powerful and his keen thoughts cut into Hisspat Zeck like a hot knife.

  "Report your findings about planet HG-281, Commander Zeck!"

  Hisspat had made up his mind he would die proudly, head held high. He wouldn't grovel before the Emperor like an Earth human begging for his life. Still, he couldn't help the feeling in the back of his brain a cutter ray was aimed at his neck by one or more of the guards standing behind him, ready to slice his head off. He decided to begin his report with the good news.

  "Your Majesty, I bring great news of a planet ideally suited for colonization. The world called Earth has an abundant supply of water, a moderate temperature and sufficient natural resources to sustain millions of Chrysallamans. There is a primitive, indigenous species of bipedal animals who call themselves humans infesting the planet. These humans are an additional food supply, and I brought back samples of a scrumptious meaty paste made out of some of them we captured that I believe you will thoroughly enjoy."

  Pausing a moment to let his report settle in the Emperor's mind, he continued, "The humans have no real capability to defend their planet from the technological or physical superiorities of the Chrysallamans. The humans are physically weak and have no ability to shield themselves from our mind control. They have only Level One atomic capability and no spaceflight vehicles at all. It is my belief a small fleet of 20 mother ships with attendant scouts would be able to conquer the entire planet within 30 days. Do you have any questions, Your Majesty?"

  "As a matter of fact I do," came the smooth reply.

  With the angry look of a parent catching its child telling a lie, the Emperor said, "I'm advised one of your scout craft was destroyed and its crew slaughtered by these technologically and physically inferior humans. I don't remember you mentioning those facts in the self-serving report you just gave me."

  Zeck had been developing his answer to this question ever since he had awakened from stasis. He had crafted the story based on half-truth and half lie. Since he was the only Chrysallaman alive who had access to the whole story, he hoped his lies would never be uncovered. Girding his mind against any mental probes that might try to pierce into the truth locked away in his brain, he released his prepared thoughts to the Emperor with all the mental strength he could muster.

  "It is true. I didn't want to sully the name and reputation of my sub-commander, DrrTrr Zennk, captain of the scout ship, UurBereck, by reporting his failure in my opening remarks. DrrTrr Zennk sneered at the combat capabilities of the humans and wanted to demonstrate the futility of any attempt to defend planet HG-281 from the overwhelming military power of the Chrysallaman Empire. Against my orders of no direct contact with the military forces of the humans, DrrTrr Zennk initiated armed conflict. Instead of maintaining a safe distance between his ship and the range of the humans' explosive projectiles, he exposed the UurBereck so closely to the human defenders even a Chrysallaman youngster throwing a rock would have been able to hit it. One of the human explosive projectiles pier
ced his ship, causing it to crash in a blinding explosion. Following expedition protocol, when I learned of his ship's destruction, I immediately recalled my remaining scouts and departed for home base. Reporting the successful location of a world suitable for colonization was of paramount importance."

  Finishing his tale and expecting an angry response to losing the first scout ship in the glorious history of Chrysallaman exploration, Hisspat Zeck clenched his hands into fists and waited for the death he knew was coming.

  Surprisingly, Emperor Terr Horcunt seemed to relax. Tension flowed out of him in a telepathic gush that swept over Hisspat Zeck like a warm breeze.

  Smiling, the Emperor declared, "Hisspat Zeck, you are hereby appointed General of my Space Fleet. You shall have 50 mother ships with a full complement of scouts. A fleet of 200 mega-liners, each crewed with 100,000 Chrysallamans, will accompany your fleet to planet HG-281. Your mission is to take control of the planet in the name of the Chrysallaman Empire for immediate colonization."

  Hisspat was so shocked his head hadn't been cut off, he fell to his knees and clasping his hands in front of him as if he was giving prayerful thanks. Emperor Terr Horcunt thought the General was praying to him and raised his right hand, gesturing a royal benediction in answer to the prayer.

  The Emperor continued, "Hisspat Zeck, your fleet and the mega-liners will be ready for departure in seven years. I ordered the construction of the mega-liners to begin over 10 years ago when it became apparent the population growth on Chrysalis couldn't be sustained. Our planet is at the breaking point. The current population must be substantially reduced by out-migration, or we will be forced into mass exterminations."

  Pausing a moment for the import of his declaration to sink into the consciousness of Hisspat Zeck, the Emperor continued, "Sadly, since you left over 60 years ago no exploratory missions have returned with news of a habitable planet. This inability to find suitable planets for expansion of the Chrysallaman Empire is maddening!"

  Visibly calming himself with a focused effort, Terr Horcunt declared, "You will be escorting one-third of the entire population of Chrysalis to their new home world. The very survival of the millions of Chrysallamans aboard the mega-liners depends upon you."

  "I shall not fail," General Hisspat Zeck affirmed.

  A low rumbling suddenly sounded from the Emperor's stomach and placing a hand over his belly, he asked, "Why don't you tell me more about this delicious sounding meaty paste you brought back from HG-281?"

  1978

  Tom Blunt's first assignment upon graduation from West Point as a new Second Lieutenant wasn't the combat role he wanted. Tom was a man of action just like his father. Even the competitive sports he'd chosen during his time at the Academy had displayed a calculated aggressiveness. He'd selected karate and swordsmanship as his sports and had become proficient in both martial arts. His body had been honed during his four years at the military school into 185 pounds of hard muscle with lightning fast reaction times. His training in military strategy had come from the best combat officers and intelligence operatives. Their projections of conflict in the World had centered around the increase of Soviet military influence in Afghanistan, the increasing unrest in the Arab States and the continued growth of nuclear weapons capability in both the United States and Russia. There were so many opportunities for meaningful and exciting assignments around the globe that an assignment to a Nevada desert facility 135 miles north of Las Vegas appeared to be a punishment.

  Academically, he was in the top 1% of his class in both electrical engineering and computer sciences. Programming the machine language software running various computer systems had come naturally to him and seemed to integrate nicely with his studies of electrical engineering. His senior project on microelectronic design of digital communications systems had been reviewed in the Journal of Microelectronics and Computer Design. He'd been offered full-ride scholarships to Caltech and MIT, but his focus on a military career didn't allow for another seven years of specialized research.

  His assignment papers ordered him to report to a Captain Jerome McPherson and provided no other details. When he told his father and mother about his assignment, they both kept bland looks on their faces as if they were only mildly sympathetic. Their reaction was mysterious since they had always shown keen interest in everything he had accomplished at the Academy. His guess was they were being stoic for his benefit, putting on a strong face so he wouldn't get discouraged.

  Boarding a military cargo flight out of New York, Lt. Tom Blunt landed at McCarran Field in Las Vegas in the late morning of October 16, 1978. As he walked down the rear cargo ramp of the aircraft with his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, he noticed a rather tall, very white-skinned man with flaming red hair standing at the bottom of the ramp looking expectantly at everyone who walked past him. Tom decided he might as well take the initiative and when he stopped right in front of the man, he was very pleased to see the name tag on the uniform read McPherson.

  "Hello, Sir," Blunt said, saluting the Captain. "My name is Second Lieutenant Thomas Blunt. I am ordered to report to Captain Jerome McPherson."

  Pulling his assignment documents from his duffel and handing them to McPherson, he continued, "Here are my papers, Sir."

  Captain McPherson quickly scanned the papers. Suddenly, a big grin broke out on the big man's face, and he wrapped his arm around Tom's shoulders, declaring, "Damn, Tom, you're a real combo kid! I can see both your mother and your father in you." Wagging his head toward the hangar door, he jovially said, "Come on, follow me."

  Tom kept silent as Captain McPherson walked him away from the big cargo plane, but he couldn't help thinking, "How does this guy know Mom and Dad? They've never mentioned him before."

  Around the side of the big hangar, a Bell 206L helicopter squatted in a landing circle. The copter's body was painted gunmetal gray, and its main rotor was painted half white and half red. What appeared to be rocket launchers and gatling machine guns were mounted just below each side entry door. Captain McPherson slid open the port side door and motioned for Blunt to board.

  Once they were seated and belted in, McPherson motioned for the pilot to take off, saying loudly, "Quincy, take us back to the base pronto. Let them know I have the new recruit."

  Tom Blunt had flown in similar aircraft several times and knew how noisy the cabin would be in flight, so before Quincy started the engine, he looked at McPherson and asked, "Where are the earphones and mics?"

  McPherson beamed at him and replied, "This is a special design. We won't need any."

  Blunt was about to ask why when he noticed the rotors beginning to spin up to lift speed with no sound other than a muffled slapping as the blades whipped through the air. With wide-eyed amazement, Tom felt the craft lift into the air silently and streak off across the desert in a northerly direction at roughly twice the speed he had expected.

  Speaking in a conversational tone in the silent cabin, Captain McPherson inquired mildly, "How do you like our new electrical motor design? Quiet, huh?

  "Electric?" Tom replied incredulously. "What's the power source? There's no battery in the World that could provide this much continuous power to a motor the size required to lift this aircraft!"

  "Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet my young pup!" McPherson replied with a mysterious smile. "Believe me, you just got assigned to the greatest, most exciting job in the whole universe."

  Pausing a moment to let the young man process what he had just been told, McPherson confirmed, "And I do mean the whole universe!"

  Thirty minutes later, Tom saw jagged mountains rising out of the desert floor off in the distance. His orders had indicated the Nevada base was 135 miles north of Las Vegas surrounded by high mountain ranges. As they started to cruise over the southerly mountain range, Tom saw the two-lane highway they had generally been following ended at the mouth of a tunnel guarded by a large number of military vehicles and tanks. Expecting a sprawling, bustling facility resembling a small city, Tom wa
s genuinely surprised when the copter crested the top of the mountains, and the base came into view. Other than a windswept runway which Captain McPherson told him was 2 miles long, the only buildings in the valley were three large aircraft hangers surrounded by endless sand dunes.

  The pilot flew the Bell 206L copter directly into one of the massive hangars and hovered over a large helicopter landing circle until the wide hangar doors slid shut behind them. The hangar was large enough to house three B-29 Superfortress bombers wing-tip to wing-tip, but the cavernous space appeared totally empty except for the copter.

  Sliding open the copter door, Captain McPherson jumped from his seat to the hangar floor and said, "Grab your gear and follow me. I'll get you to your room, and then I want to introduce you to everyone."

  Their steps echoing in the vast emptiness of the hangar, McPherson led Blunt to a bright yellow door marked 'Radiation Leak - DANGER - Do Not Enter'. Ignoring the warning, McPherson held his thumb against a flat glass panel set in the wall to the right side of the door. A few seconds later, the yellow door slid open to reveal an elevator large enough for an elephant to stand in and turn around. Entering the elevator, McPherson pressed the lowest button of ten on a panel, the door slid shut, and they dropped so quickly Blunt's stomach got butterflies.

  The door of the elevator opened on a wide, brightly lit hallway. Exiting to the left, Captain McPherson led Tom down a labyrinth of hallways to 'C' wing where the dormitory suites were located. Tom's suite was spacious and included a bedroom, living room, office, kitchen and large bathroom. Large television screens inset into the suite walls mimicked windows by displaying scenes of rolling pastures and quiet forest glades. McPherson explained that since he was going to be living on the base virtually all the time, his accommodations were purposefully designed to be comfortable and home-like.