Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “Third, I didn’t ask to become captain of this ship. But until I get the answers I’m looking for, things will stay just as they are.”

  “Yes … yes … I will answer your questions … all of them. Just release my hand … please!”

  Perry increased the pressure. “And apologize to my father here.”

  Fine’s eyes darted to Ol’ Gus. “Yes, I apologize!”

  Gus flipped him the bird. “Phsst … he doesn’t mean it. Go ahead and break his damn wrist for all I care.”

  Perry released his hold and Fine pulled his hand back. Cradling it against his stomach, Fine looked at Perry with pure hatred in his eyes.

  Perry said, “So then tell me, why was the ship crashed into this subterranean aquifer two hundred years ago?”

  Fine, halfway back to standing up, stopped his progression. His eyes darted from Perry to Ricket, then back again. “What? Two hundred years? It hasn’t been—”

  Ricket said, “First Officer Fine, what Captain Reynolds says is true. It has been a hundred and seventy-five years, five months and three days. I do not possess the information of why this vessel crashed here.”

  Fine looked down at the deck—his face now ashen-white. “I think I am going to be sick. Actually, I am certain of it.” He lowered his knees to the deck and gagged. After several moments of dry heaves, he said, “Water … get me some water … ”

  Ricket quickly returned from a dispenser, clutching a container Perry surmised held water. He handed it over to Fine, who gulped down the entire contents. “My family … everyone I’ve ever known … are all gone. Dead.” He wiped his nose, sniffling back tears. “Gone for hundreds of years now while I lay asleep in a MediPod? Oh God.”

  Perry watched him with detached curiosity. “Okay … go on.”

  “Modern-day Caldurian ships are capable of moving between multiverse realities. Are you aware of that?”

  Perry shook his head, beginning to feel overwhelmed. “No, but go on anyway.”

  “This realm, your realm, was once our home. We had returned here … but only as observers. The Craing were becoming too powerful in this region of the galaxy. Their technology had incrementally increased, over subsequent decades, to the extent we needed to routinely monitor their activity.”

  Perry looked at Ricket, whose origin, he remembered, was also Craing.

  Fine continued, “The Craing could not be allowed to possess the capability to travel into other multiverse realms. We arrived here, finding one of many Craing fleets in the throes of battle. I use the term battle loosely; it was more like a slaughter. Hundreds of opposition warships—I think they were referred to as the Alliance—were being destroyed at an alarming rate. Captain Montoro, who was our fleet captain, wanted to intervene. He hated the Craing; we all did—warmongers, the whole lot of them. But that would be against our directive of neutrality. The Caldurians are a far more advanced race. We long ago learned war is senseless. That doesn’t mean we won’t defend ourselves, when provoked, but we usually don’t get involved in the squabbles of inferior societies.”

  Ol’ Gus rolled his eyes at that.

  “Then the Fungshy’s ability to access the multiverse faltered. We wouldn’t be able to leave this multiverse for days—perhaps weeks. Our captain decided to send the entire crew home on the Fungshy’s sister ship, the Pungshy.”

  Gus said, “Hold on there! That’s the name of this ship? The fucking Fungshy?”

  Fine nodded. “It means quick … to be very fast.”

  “That’s one god-awful name! Sounds like some type of athlete foot fungus, or something,” Gus said.

  “Go ahead with what you were saying,” Perry said, wanting to keep the conversation on track. “You said the crew were transferred to the sister ship, so how many of you remained on board?”

  “Um … about ten of us, including the captain. The Fungshy’s repairs,” Fine paused, giving Gus a disapproving look, before returning to Perry, “were far more extensive than we first assessed. Chief Engineer Cabreil,” he gestured toward the MediPod the Caldurian occupied, “was making progress, but he and his assistant had to first bring the Fungshy’s systems completely offline before any final fixes could be implemented.”

  “Let me guess … those Craing assholes attacked you when you were most vulnerable,” Gus said.

  “That is right. We were caught completely off-guard. Weapon systems … phase-shifting capability. Our drives were down and we were completely defenseless.”

  “I have no idea what some of those things are. I take it you were fired upon,” Perry said.

  First Officer Fine huffed dramatically: “Two heavy cruisers … primitive, insectile-looking warships … must have thought we were a part of the Alliance’s forces. The attack was relentless and we sustained damage. Somehow, Chief Cabreil got our drives up to where we could still maneuver within sub-light space.”

  The first officer went quiet for a moment, then he said, “It became obvious we were not going to survive much longer. The Fungshy’s shields were down and the Craing’s plasma fire had breached multiple decks. The captain was killed, along with eight others. I deployed maintenance droids to make repairs …” he stopped, looking about the compartment. “By the looks of things, our droids survived long enough to repair much of the damage. I was injured … lost my legs below the knees. Chief got me into a MediPod. Before losing consciousness, I remember ordering him to scrub the AI’s memory; Reechet’s, too, in case the Fungshy fell into the Craing’s hands. At all cost, that could not be allowed to happen. I remember Chief Cabreil looking hopeful. He said something about the Fungshy still having one last phase-shift left in her.”

  Chapter 36

  Sol System

  Planet Earth, Subterranean Aquifer, The Lilly, San Bernardino, CA

  __________________________

  Summer, 1995 …

  Perry woke up, hearing the familiar whirring sound of the MediPod’s clamshell lid opening up. Remembering how and why he came to be within it, as the pod quieted he remained prone—staring at the ceiling. From Ricket’s selection of HyperLearning modules, he’d chosen the captain’s rank module. Bringing his hand up to his head, he cradled his forehead in his open palm. He’d been awake for some of the HyperLearning ordeal and Ricket hadn’t exaggerated—it wasn’t only painful, it was excruciating. Prior to beginning the procedure, Ricket had come up with a full laundry list of extras, bundling them together with the program’s usual learning aspects. Perry gave Ricket his assent, not realizing the extent of agony he would later endure.

  Now that it was over, he assessed how he felt—not too bad. In fact, he felt better than he’d felt in years … perhaps ever.

  “You can sit up now, Captain Reynolds.”

  Perry heard Ricket’s voice—but, strangely enough, the sound wasn’t emanating from outside the MediPod.

  “You are hearing me via your newly installed nano-devices … called NanoCom, Captain.”

  Perry cleared his throat. “What? There’s a radio in my head?”

  “A radio would imply the transmission of electromagnetic waves. A NanoCom works on a far more advanced principle. Your HyperLearning session provided you with that distinction, if you wish to peruse your memories now.”

  Perry, though skeptical, did what Ricket suggested. Astonished, he quickly determined that his memories were no longer a jumble of disjointed thoughts, nor the emotions he associated with them. Some sort of hierarchal file system was actually in place within his head. With lag-time unnecessary, he found he could easily call up the technical principles behind the NanoCom, as well as those in his newly implanted nano-devices. No wonder his head hurt—Ricket had thrown everything, including the proverbial kitchen sink, into his noggin. He sat up and looked around Medical.

  Ricket said, “Would you like assistance extricating yourself from the MediPod, Captain?”

  “That’s okay, Ricket … I’m fine.” Perry sat up and climbed out of the pod. “Where’s my father?” Perry cau
ght himself. “Is he still watching over First Officer Fine?” Perry had ensured that during his time out of commission, first Officer Fine would be watched over—he didn’t trust the Caldurian.

  Ricket nodded. “They went for … what he called … a long walk. Your procedure took a full day and night.”

  Chief Engineer Cabreil entered Medical. Looking about the compartment he came to an abrupt stop when he saw Perry. “You saved my life!”

  Perry assessed the now perfectly ambulatory Caldurian. Right off the bat, he liked him—which was in stark contrast to how he felt about Fine. “I’m not so sure your injuries were actually life-threatening.”

  “Just the same, I do owe you … and I pay my debts … and I’ll do so now … but don’t expect it again.”

  Perry exchanged a glance with Ricket, who quickly averted his eyes. “And what is it you’re offering me?”

  The chief looked pained as he uttered the next words: “Two things … your brief command of this ship has been terminated; and second, your father … um … Gus is lying unconscious in one of the ship’s confinement cells.”

  Perry was on top of the chief before the large Caldurian could react. Grabbing the front of his jumpsuit, Perry swung the alien’s bulk in a semi-circle, then threw him against a bulkhead. Letting go of the suit’s fabric with one hand, he shoved his fist into the alien’s exposed larynx.

  “I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but here on Earth, messing with one’s family is a sure way to get yourself killed.”

  The chief’s eyes bulged as he tried to pull Perry’s fist away from his throat. Desperate to breathe, he shook his head. It looked as if he had something to say, so Perry eased up on the pressure. “Talk!”

  Chief Engineer Cabreil swallowed twice and coughed once before croaking out, “Why … so … angry … this isn’t your ship …”

  Perry thought about that for a second. Then his mind replayed his recent experiences aboard the USS Montana—how easily he’d handed over his command to Commander Greco—how accommodating he’d been. And the horrific finale that later ensued. He mentally replayed the scene again—the magnificent ship’s fiery destruction, followed by the battered hull’s slow disappearance beneath the waves of the Taiwan Strait. Not again—never again!

  “I’ll give up my command of this ship only when I’m good and ready … not a second before.”

  The chief nodded his head.

  “My father? His condition?”

  “He’s fine. Probably already come around by now.”

  “How did Fine take control of this ship?”

  The chief hesitated before answering. “I … I helped him do that. After all, he is my commanding officer.”

  Perry’s expression was all that was needed to prompt the chief to continue.

  “I helped him to retrieve a portion of the Fungshy’s scrubbed memory banks. There is a secondary short-term data storage—”

  Perry cut him off: “In Engineering … used primarily for emergency restart functionality.” Perry was both surprised and amazed that he knew this information. Any regret he’d felt for having to endure the painful HyperLearning process was gone.

  Ricket broke his own imposed silence. “Captain … what he is saying is indeed correct. But I believe it is only a short-term solution. There is a better way to circumvent … his actions.”

  Perry, reestablishing pressure on the chief’s throat, said, “You weren’t going to mention that to me, were you?”

  The chief stared back with frightened eyes.

  “Let me make myself abundantly clear. I am the commanding officer of this ship … my ship. As soon as I’m done with you, we’re changing her name.”

  The chief nodded.

  “Your first duty, as my chief engineer, will be handling that detail. She’s to be called The Lilly. That’s T H E L I L L Y. Now you repeat it.” Perry dialed back his pressure hold against the chief’s throat.

  “The Lilly … She’s The Lilly.”

  “Of course, I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. You will need to prove yourself. Just know, I won’t give a second thought to breaking your neck the next time. None at all.” Perry turned his attention to Ricket. “And you … perhaps it is time I took you back outside and buried you under five feet of dirt and rock. Then you’ll really know what it’s like to be trapped that way for another two hundred years.” Perry clucked his tongue. “I don’t know what it’s like on your planet … Craing, isn’t it?”

  Ricket hesitantly nodded.

  “I guess loyalty and friendship are obscure concepts there. I feel sorry for you.”

  Perry instantly noted that his words—words said in spiteful anger—were impacting the small robotic being far more than he had anticipated. The strained, emotional expression on his sad face caused Perry to regret his sudden lashing out.

  “I will help you—”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” a voice behind Perry commanded.

  First Officer Fine strode the rest of the way into Medical, holding the same Flasher Perry had held a day and a half earlier.

  “Release the chief,” he said.

  Perry, seeing the black O on the weapon’s muzzle pointed at his head, did as he was told.

  “You are lucky, you know,” Fine said, with a sneer.

  “And why is that?” Perry asked.

  “Returning this ship to space will be far easier with four instead of three.”

  Perry nodded, then said, “You mean five … my father makes five.”

  “No, he’s far too much trouble and unpredictable. He’s destined for a not so pleasant experience … soon.”

  Perry simply stared back at Fine.

  “It starts with a boot in the ass to get him into the airlock. You can wave goodbye to him as he flails around out there in open space … do so safely from an observation window. It won’t be pretty. Organic life, with its differential internal pressurization, upon hitting that total void …” Holding a closed hand up, he opened his fingers, “… poof!”

  Perry lunged at him, only to be halted by the raised barrel of the Flasher. “There won’t be the luxury of a walk in space for you, asshole,” Perry spat. “I’m going to …”

  Perry’s threats halted mid-sentence when he noticed Fine’s sudden agitation. Looking about the compartment, Fine asked, “Where has he gone?”

  Only then did Perry notice that Ricket was no longer in Medical.

  * * *

  Perry was led at gunpoint to another section of the ship—deep within its bowels. Perry guessed they were heading astern, somewhere. The chief placed a firm hand on his shoulder when they entered the DeckPort. Then, after several left and right turns, changing corridors, they ended up in an area the chief referred to as Engineering.

  Their surroundings seemed huge—to such an extent that Perry surmised this section alone covered a significant amount of the spaceship’s real estate. He was standing, still held at gunpoint, between two towering devices the size of small houses. The air was thick with the smell of ozone. Thinking about it, he needn’t have wondered—he knew—via his new implants, everything there was to know about this section of the ship, and the towering cooling system tanks for the anti-matter drive devices.

  “You should feel privileged, Captain,” Fine said. “This is a highly secure area on board the Fungshy. I suppose your HyperLearning session has provided all sorts of information about it.”

  He walked further back between the two tanks where there was an old–fashioned metal hatch door. If he hadn’t been looking right at it, he would not have seen it was there. He opened the hatch and there, mounted to a bulkhead, was a tall, rectangular, object. It seemed to be mineral-based—perhaps made of stone—and opalescent. Beautiful, actually.

  Fine said, “This Morian Obelisk is not Caldurian. It originated from an aquatic race of beings in another star system. Actually, its function is rudimentary. The most basic of communications devices … but incredibly powerful. It allows t
his vessel and others like it to breach the very fabric of the universe … the multiverse. This species had discovered how to make travel into the multiverse possible.” Perry stepped closer, taking in the subtle swirls of color behind the cloudy-white surface.

  “Caldurians pride themselves on being superior, more intelligent beings. Truth is, none of us today really understand how this thing works … how it allows us to travel across vast distances … even to multiple realms.”

  Perry found the information interesting, though he had no concept about what travelling between multiverse realms entailed. Or, what the motivation was to travel there in the first place. Wasn’t their own universe vast enough to keep sentient beings occupied for a lifetime?

  It was then that Perry noticed an area on the upper right of the mounted obelisk. Obviously damaged, there was a charred section. Perhaps from a plasma bolt?

  “Maintenance droids had two hundred-plus years to repair this ship.” He gestured toward the high-overhead bulkheads, which looked to be undamaged. “But fixing a Morian Obelisk … that is far beyond their capabilities.”

  “Fascinating. Why don’t you tell me what you need me for?” Perry asked.

  Fine raised his weapon, looking close to pulling the trigger. “You forget how precarious your situation is, human.” Fine, looking upward, said, “AI, deploy eight heavy maintenance droids. Have them bring the largest hover sled on board.”

  “Yes, Captain Fine. The droids are now en route.”

  Perry silently acknowledged that the chief was correct after all—Fine had found a way to take back command of the ship.

  Perry wanted to keep the conversation going—considering his circumstances. Might even extend his life. “So these Morian Obelisks allow the Fungshy to traverse into various realms, is that correct?”

  “Yes … obviously. Allows us to establish communications with those that control such things.”

  “So, if you can’t replace the damaged one, then what? You’re stuck here?”

  “That will not be our fate, Captain Reynolds. While you were emerged in HyperLearning, I was learning new things myself. Some of the AI’s memory is again accessible. Of course, that rabid blue creature issue needed to be addressed before I could access the bridge.” He patted his Flasher several times and smiled. “Apparently, the Fungshy’s sister ship, the Pungshy, never made it back to its intended destination.” He raised his brows and tilted his head, as if coaxing Perry to ask him the next question.