Brendereen and Acarea looked at each other, then turned and embraced. The ‘presence’ had virtually gone.
“So, they want us to check out our rustic church?”
“Yes, that's going to be a bit testing,” Bren replied.
After they had eaten and copied the human’s language translation folder to their Byte, they decided that it was time to make a start for the hills and the church.
They pushed their Blasters under their belts. Picked up the communicator the humans had left them, together with the transceiver and food, then left. After making sure, they locked the cabin door behind them, as nothing was safe anymore.
They activated the skimma and uploaded the language folder to its memory. Tapped their destination on the map, then pressed the start button and moved off. Keeping their speed down. Hoping not to attract too much attention, as they journeyed in silence to the church some thirty-five kilometres away.
An hour later, they came to a halt at the bottom of a rocky patch. Looking up, they could see the rustic church, high up brownish looking and partly embedded in the rock. From here on, they would go on by foot.
“Yea. Rusty is right,” Bren said.
“It is. Very rusty. The humans, they’re right, aren’t they?”
“Hundred percent, I reckon. We'd better cover the skimma.”
They started the climb up to the rustic church two hundred and thirty metres above them. As they got closer, their thoughts were confirmed. The church wasn't what it had seemed. There weren’t any doors or windows. There wasn’t a church spire. Just a great rusty hulk of metal, sticking way up above the rocks.
They rested for a few minutes, catching their breath, then continued. As they got closer, they could see a hole in the metal structure, which seemed to lead down through the rocks. Then climbing on up the hill, they noticed a hole that led down, and into what appeared to be a dark opening.
When they finally reached the entrance, they both drew their weapons and moved slowly, into, then down through the almost huge metal tunnel.
A bit further along, the tunnel opened into a vast metal room, maybe twenty metres high and more than eighty long. Both being softly lit by the ambient light seeping through the entrance that was wide open to the daylight.
Now they knew about their spaceship. They could see that the entrance had obviously been, what Susanna would have called an enormous air-lock. Two statue-like figures stood, one each side of the opening, looking as if they were guardians of some sacred temple.
Acarea touched Bren's arm. “I don't remember it quite like this.”
“Nor do I, I reckon this room would have been used for storage. Packed with all kinds of things necessary for our descendant’s survival. Including the shuttles that we have, and the rest of the heavy equipment. I think those statue things were added much later.”
“Knowing what we know now, we can understand it better this time Bren.”
“Yes,” he agreed. Looking around again, he could see many boxes along one side wall.
“Do you notice how clean the floor is Bren?”
“Yea, too much for that, 'nobody at home' sort of thing.”
Suddenly, something moved between two of the boxes. Bren instinctively fired at it and missed.
They heard a cavalcade of ‘digital sounds,’ which seemed to come from the object and appeared to show its apparent disgust.
“I think whatever it is, it’s angry with you Bren.”
“Yea. It’s probably a cleaning machine or something. Sorry,” he shouted.
The ‘machine,’ gave another short burst, then went on its way.
“The boxes look very intriguing,” Acarea said.
They moved cautiously towards them and saw that they all had labels on them, which were written in many languages including English. The words read 'Propagation Equipment. Earth 2109.'
“Well, that’s it. It's definitely true then,” Acarea said. “We are descendants of the crew of this ship!”
“Yea, Susanna’s right. Let’s finish looking it over, as far as we can reach.”
Acarea, looking a bit disappointed, said, “I'd like to know why we couldn't remember how we got here.”
“Maybe our memory was lost when we had the Ops training, or perhaps it was deliberately tampered with?”
“But why?”
“Mutiny comes to mind.”
“Maybe. So, if anyone ever found us, the descendants of these mutineers,” Acarea said.
“None of us would be able to tell them anything because we genuinely wouldn’t know what took place?”
“That would be my guess. Come on let’s see what's inside these boxes.”
The boxes proved to be empty. So, they went on to the far end of the room and found a domed button mounted on the wall. Bren pressed it, but nothing happened.
“Try pressing it longer Bren.”
He did, and finally, a large square section of the wall began to swing slowly inwards, creaking and rumbling as if protesting at having to move.
They walked through the opening and into a large area, from which they could see three equally-spaced corridors branching off.
The central passage was different from the other two in that it was tubular in shape and about four metres in diameter. It looked utilitarian to them, so they decided to leave it alone.
“Which one shall we look at, Bren?”
“This one will do,” he replied, heading into one of the other two corridors.
They walked slowly along, then came across two large rooms on the right-hand side.
They went into the first, which held a lot of what appeared to be Control Panels. And other equipment, some of which had obviously had their working parts stripped out. Some had been completely removed, just leaving their securing brackets that were welded to the bulkhead.
Seeing nothing else of interest, they went on again and into the second area. This was slightly smaller in size and had several rows of coffin-shaped marks on the floor.
Acarea held Bren’s hand tight.
“Bren, this place is starting to give me the creeps.”
“You’re not alone.”
Further on down the corridor and on the same side, they found rows of smaller rooms. Each room had the now familiar marks on the floor.
Then, as they entered the last room, they saw a single coffin shaped object. It was covered with dust.
But it was apparent, from its shape and size, that it must at one time have contained a human body.
However, now the transparent lid was open, and the occupant had gone.
“I’ve seen these things in an old book from city records,” Acarea remarked, starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Yes, I remember you showing the pictures to me.”
“Bren,” Acarea said, “Did you notice there was no stale air when we opened that door?”
“No,” he replied, sniffing. “But you're right.”
Moving on down the corridor, the reason became apparent. Off to one side, there was a great tear in the ship's skin, leaving it open to the outside world.
Moving further on, they could see small areas of the roof almost touching the floor. Appearing to have been crushed by the rocks above.
“I think the ship probably crash landed, and it was emptied of everything. Then it must have been partly covered over, so as, not to be seen. After all, they did have earth moving equipment, and everything else they would have needed to do it.”
“Well, then,” Acarea replied.
“Do you think it’s possible that they split all the equipment and provisions, everything. Including the people. All into five sets and that's how our cities were formed?”
“Yes. I think you’re right; it must have been. Whoever did the original planning was good. Giving each city military security, manufacturing, and food production facilities.”
“It was good. Until, the Crillons came,” Acarea replied.
Chapter 17
The Plan.
&nbs
p; The Inter-ship conference that was scheduled for eleven o'clock was ready to start.
Andromeda’s weapons specialist, Mark Trask, was sitting next to Frank, again.
Frank's screen showed the images of Derrick, Tony, Harry, and Barry Winston. Beside each of them, sat their weapons expert.
“Welcome, again gentlemen. OK. Impress me.”
“Can my weapon's expert start,” Barry asked.
“Go ahead,” Frank said with a smile.
“Good morning. I'm Terry Carpenter, of the Javelin,” he said introducing himself.
“We’ve carried out many simulations looking at ways to destroy the Crillon ships that are positioned over the three cities.
We found that, by placing a stealth drone directly in front of the Crillon ship, we should be able to blow its front end clean off.
Simply by effecting a synchronised firing of both drone’s nuclear torpedoes.
At the same time, the resultant explosion should push the damaged Crillon ship, outwards, into space. Not down on to the city.”
“Well, the scenario is plausible. But it’s not possible the way your simulations indicate,” replied Andromeda.
“Why not?”
“We've seen a Crillon Battlecruiser in detail, and up close. Arans ship, in particular,” Andromeda said.
“The Battlecruiser’s front end, where the Antimatter weapon’s output muzzle is located, is particularly well protected with force-field emitters.
The main control room is situated just above the muzzle and is also well protected by a mass of emitters and detectors.
Therefore, to attack it in your way would be a bit too scary, even for me.
Additionally, with our constant movement, the features of the planet's surface would always be changing.
So, it would be harder for the drones to remain undetected by the high orbit ships, even with active stealth,” she said. Because, when you start to open the drone’s torpedo doors to fire, the drones would then become visible, and easy targets for the Crillon ships.
I’m sure the drones could also be detected and could then be vaporized by particle beams from each side of the ships muzzle.
And, even if you managed to get the torpedoes away, the result would be the same.”
She paused again, then asked.
“You do have the Crillon ship’s full specifications that we sent to your central computer. Don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Terry replied.”
“Then use the information!”
“But if you knew all this already Andromeda. Why did you ask us?”
“Obvious, isn't it?” She replied.
“We need solutions that are not founded in logic.”
“Yes, we need ideas, Gents,” Frank added.
“Don't be disheartened Terry, it was a good try. Unfortunately, Andromeda’s got virtually all of mankind’s total knowledge available to her and unrealistically believes that everybody has a computer for their brain.”
Frank got a quick stab for that. ‘Ouch! Stop that,' he thought.
‘Not taking sides, are we?' Came Andromeda’s voice, through his implant.
‘No, Andromeda. Just trying to encourage the crew,’ he replied. Then started interacting with his captains.
“Keep at it Barry.
Derrick, are your drones monitoring the Crillon ships hanging over the cities?”
“Yes. We’ve got three of them mapping the ships now.
A bit risky I know. But we need to find out what they've got running, and the strength of their force-fields, etc.”
“So, what field strength levels are we talking about?”
“Well, so far, they're what you would expect for protection from meteorites.
Ideally, we’d get closer to monitor them but we daren't in case we’re detected.
We also have to look out for their ships in high orbit.”
“Fine Derrick. What about the fourth drone?”
“It’s just keeping an eye on everything, and acting as a relay between us.”
Frank looked at the Turpin's pair. Both Harry and his weapon’s man were looking nervous.
“Your thoughts Harry?”
“Well, we've also carried out simulations, looking for ways to destroy the three ships.
But, having looked at Andromeda's data on the Crillon ship, we must agree that, however, you approach it; the front is too well protected.
But, the rear is a softer target, as there are fewer sensors and no particle beam projectors in that area,” Harry said, then paused.
His weapon’s man, finally managing to speak, added.
“With the Crillon’s force-field running at a low level, we should be able to get close enough to the rear of their ship to put two torpedoes into their Antimatter weapon’s tube.
Making an entry at an angle of six degrees, would, in turn, place the detonation about halfway along the tube.
Meaning that, although the ship would be out of action, it should stay put. Sir.”
“Whatever we do, it will all have to be done in sync, and without any warning whatsoever,” Harry added, smiling slightly.
“Well done. That’s outstanding,” Frank said, with a broad smile.
“We also have more than enough drones for each Crillon ship,” Tony Crisp of the Derringer reported. “Two per, and we’ll still have spares. So, we might not have to risk any of our ships.”
Frank smiled wryly. “I hope you’re right Tony, but in my experience things hardly ever go the way you expect them to.”
Chapter 18
On The Planet.
Brendereen and Acarea found nothing else of interest in what they had believed to be an old rustic church.
Now, it meant nothing to them. It was just a rusty old Starship.
“Bren, let’s get out of here,” Acarea said. “It's starting to give me the creeps, almost like something is watching us.”
“Maybe it's Susanna?”
“No, it's different somehow.”
“Then let’s go. There's nothing left anyway. It’s all been well and truly stripped out for sure.”
They went back along the corridor and out through the large room. The little machine scurried out of their way again, letting out another cavalcade of digital sounds, in disgust.
Once they had passed back through the airlock, they stood still, in the open air, for a while. Surveying the scene around the rocky plateau that led down to the valley.
Seeing nothing that would alarm them, they made their way to the camouflaged skimma down below. With small, bee-like insects, buzzing around them as they walked. They could also see a few tiny, orange colored, and lizard-like insects, that scuttled away as they passed.
There was a wide variety of insects and small creatures on the planet. But it was generally devoid of the sight and sound of birds or almost anything else, usually associated with what they now knew was their home planet, Earth.
They soon reached the skimma hidden in the rocky outcrop. Bren uncovered it and picked up the transceiver the humans had left for them.
The humans, his own race he again realized.
”Look, Acarea,” he uttered.
But there was no answer.
He turned his head and saw she was standing still, with her back to him.
Beyond her, two Crillons, facing her. Each one holding the now familiar weapon which had been used against his people with devastating effect.
Behind them again, sat a small ‘flyer,' a type he hadn't seen before.
'This might be the last thing we see,' he thought. As he slid the transceiver back, and into the skimma.
Bren turned around slowly, to face the Crillons.
Both he and Acarea knowing they would just be red mist before they could even reach their Blasters.
The Crillon, with chevrons on his arm. Spoke what seemed to Bren, to be gibberish.
He desperately wished he'd taken the time to study the Crillon lingo that the humans had downloaded to their
computer.
“Ab Rit Tack Dar,” the Crillon kept saying.
'This is bad,' thought Bren.
“What's he saying?” Bren said out loud, in error.
He froze. He was sure he could hear a faint descending ‘hiss,' from behind the Crillons.
One Crillon turned, but saw nothing, and turned back to face Bren and Acarea.
Then a voice came from nowhere. It rattled something apparently in Crillon.
The Crillons turned. Fired at seemingly nothing, producing a bright flash, and the SD 23 drone shimmered into view momentarily, as it absorbed the weapon's discharges.
Brendereen was blinded for a second by the flash.
When he could see again, the two Crillons were flat on their backs. Killed by their own weapon’s discharge, some of which had reflected back from the SD 23 drone.
'We meet again,' came Susanna's voice in their implants.
“Susanna,” Acarea cried out, with relief sounding in her voice.
'Wow! It was lucky we were keeping an eye on you,’ Susanna said. Then continued. ‘I came back to ask that, if you don’t mind, we would like to keep in touch with you.
Also, we think it might be better to allow you to talk to the other cities about us. But only when our plans are finalized.'
“Of course, we don’t mind. We won’t feel so isolated. Just let us know when you want us to talk with the other cities,” Bren replied.
'So, the rustic church. Is it your original Starship?’ Susanna asked.
“Absolutely, beyond doubt,” Acarea replied.
The Definitive SpaceFed Trilogy (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy).: A thrilling, action-packed Sci-fi space adventure. (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 8) Page 29
