As this mission is classified under active service regulations no further contact with your families will be allowed until end of mission: in the meantime appropriate notification to your families shall be determined by this administration. You may now return to your quarters and consider your response to this mission: you will be contacted in due course.
Please be advised that this information is of the highest classification and may not be divulged to anyone without authorisation from this sector. Thank you.”
The globe screen cleared, signalling that the meeting was over.
Upon leaving the conference room each sought out the accommodation that bore their name, where some busied themselves until the next briefing and others just relaxed while speculating as to what the mission might mean to them.
Rachmel stepped into her accommodation and was deep in thought as the door closed silently behind her. There had, of course, been rumours of an agency on Earth having located, what was believed to be, a stable worm hole out here in space, but nothing had been announced officially. Could this be the reason for their summons? Were they to be the first people to travel through a worm hole?
She was aware that the theory of sending a craft through such a device had been accepted as a workable hypothesis for over a hundred years, but without actually discovering a wormhole it had stayed only that, a theory. Now, it seemed, the theory may have been proven: however, these had been unmanned vessels that had been built of man-made materials; what would be the effects to a human body upon entering such a structure? Of course, they had been assured that the mission was one of minimal risk classification, but even with all of the data from the unmanned probes, which suggested this to be the case, there still had to be an element of speculation involved.
The calming voice of the accommodation computer greeted her. “Good evening Leading Engineering Officer Rachmel, may I be of service to you?”
Rachmel, still deep in thought and looking at the ground before her, paused for a moment and then, raising her eyes to observe the plain white wall sections of the honeycomb-shaped room, she replied “Green décor, subdued: central location seating and holo-link to Leading Engineer Miles please.”
The walls glowed gently to a soft pastel green as Rachmel walked across to the seat which had risen from the centre of the room. A moment later the computer announced “Personnel in this sector are denied access to the holo-link facility in the interests of mission security: is there anything more Leading Officer?”
She had wondered about the level of this mission and now she knew: she was sufficiently intrigued to have already made up her mind about accepting the mission.
Closing her eyes, she smiled briefly and then sat back with her head in the headrest.
“Relaxation mode, please.”
The seat began to tilt back gently and then the leg supports came into play. When she felt comfortable she said “Thank you.” The motion ceased as the room lighting decreased to a lower level.
“Leading Engineering Officer Rachmel, may I have your decision please.”
They had been allowed the obligatory one hour to decide if they would accept or decline the mission and now the Mission audit system was requesting their response. Opening her eyes, she paused for a moment before replying “Yes I accept the mission.” Gently, the seat began to return to its original position and the lighting slowly upgraded to its earlier requested condition.
“Thank you Leading Officer, please prepare for conference.”
Rising from the seat she walked across the room and sat at the desk that had appeared from its storage position in the bulkhead. Placing her right hand into the depression on the surface of the desk she stated her credentials. “Flight engineer first class Leading Officer Rachmel: service number Echo Oscar 24297: D.O.B. 20082145 Earth time.”
From the centre of the desk appeared a globe-screen: on the screen was the image of Commander of Missions who had spoken to them earlier and who now began.
“Leading Officer, the first part of this instruction is being given simultaneously to the other members of the selected group. The second part, however, concerns each of you individually and is issued on a need to know basis only. Is this acceptable to you?”
Rachmel answered almost immediately. “Yes.”
The commander studied her face for a few moments, looking for any sign of uncertainty in her decision to accept the mission, but found none. He hadn’t really expected to, as her historical profile revealed an officer of great aplomb, who displayed a calmness that seemed more in line with someone twice the age and experience of her youthful 36 years. Her pass in flight engineering was one of excellence, as was her pilot officer pass.
During her service of twelve years she had been called upon to command three vessels, one of them being an Arrowline class fighter during the so-called inner-space wars that had occurred five years before, when two groups of terrorists had attempted to simultaneously take control of two of the six space stations in orbit at that time. The terrorists had been hopelessly outnumbered, outmanoeuvred and outgunned and, eventually, they had paid the ultimate price. During this time she had gained a reputation as a solid and reliable officer who was not prone to taking unguarded risks.
Unmarried, her family consisted of mother, 58 and father, 59; both parents holding positions as bio-chemists at the Eastern African branch of the James Harris Biotech Laboratories: her sister, 37 and professor of genetics at the European Central University, was married with two children; one boy and one girl.
The image of the commander disappeared from the screen to be replaced by a short clip of video of a man who wore the dark red insignia on the left shoulder of his light blue uniform, showing him to be a Flight Engineer.
“This, as you are no doubt aware, is Leading Engineering Officer Miles, 34: unmarried: length of service 12 years: family consists of mother, brother and two nephews. Miles has accepted the conditions of this mission. Do you have questions concerning this officer?”
She smiled to herself knowing that the real question was Is there any reason you can not work alongside this person? Rachmel and Miles had served together several times in their careers and were old acquaintances: rumour had it that they had some kind of semi-marital relationship going on which amused them both as Miles’s preferences in that direction were strictly non-female.
“No questions” she answered.
The screen now showed a woman wearing white coveralls with the light blue insignia of Medical Officer.
“Leading Medical Officer Coles, 39, married: length of service 17 years: family consists of husband, one child female and mother. Coles has accepted the conditions of this mission. Do you have questions concerning this officer?”
Rachmel watched the woman briefly: she had heard of the doctor during the wars but they had never worked together.
“No questions.”
Next on the screen came another woman, but the youthfulness of her face seemed at odds with the premature greying of her hair: she was wearing the yellow insignia of the Intraphysics department.
“Leading Physics Officer Duarte, 25: unmarried: length of service 7 years: specialist classification Molecular nanobiotic engineering: family consists of one child female, father, two uncles and grandmother. Duarte has accepted the conditions of this mission. Do you have questions concerning this officer?”
Having no personal knowledge about this woman was of no concern to Rachmel, for I.P geeks were renowned throughout the service as back room boys who constantly immersed themselves into the bowels of one laboratory or another, often only emerging to prove that they were still alive.
“No questions.”
The image of the woman was replaced by a man who, again, sported the yellow insignia. This came as no surprise to Rachmel, for the I.P personnel invariably worked in pairs, whereby each one’s specialisation complemented the other.
“Leading Physics Officer Kamul, 29: married: length of service 9 years: specialist classification
Micro-organic regeneration: family consists of wife, two children; one male, one female: mother. Kamul has accepted the conditions of this mission. Do you have questions concerning this officer?”
Rachmel studied the man for a few moments before replying. Although the man’s face was considered to be classically handsome with its deeply tanned skin and strong but finely chiselled bone structure, it was his eyes that demanded the observer’s attention.
When viewed from a slight angle the iris appeared to be of the palest green, but when seen directly the colouration seemed to have disappeared, leaving the iris clear which left the man with an unintentionally ominous stare. According to rumour Kamul had a somewhat chequered military history of minor misdemeanours, although these hadn’t seemed to have stood in the way of his promotion to Leading Officer.
Under normal circumstances, because of his sometimes impetuous nature, Kamul would not have been considered for this mission but his expertise in sub-nucleonic physics and regeneration was second to none. Rachmel decided that Miles would be best suited to keeping an eye on Leading Officer Kamul.
“No questions.”
The screen now showed a man wearing dark blue and green insignia; here was their pilot.
“Leading Pilot Officer Hidson, 42: married: length of service 23 years: family consists of wife, three children; two males, one female: mother and brother. Hidson has accepted the conditions of this mission. Do you have questions concerning this officer?”
This pilot was well known throughout the service as a good and reliable person to have with you when the nasty stuff hit the air cooling system: an outstanding pilot with a record second to none, he was also renowned for his personal combat prowess.
“No questions.”
Hidson was replaced by a woman who wore a dark red jump suit and who stared, blandly, directly at the screen. Rachmel stiffened slightly and felt her eyelids involuntarily narrow, for she recognised the black insignia of the Bureau that matched perfectly the dark colouration of her bleak eyes; so here was the mysterious civilian who had arrived last at the meeting.
Universally referred to as ghosts, but never to them personally, they enjoyed the freedom of having no one they could call friend, not even other agents and they had to be totally self-reliant; for people, both military and civilian, would think twice before offering assistance to an Internal Administration Officer.
These people could wield more power than even the top brass in military H.Q and were not to be taken lightly. They had the authority to arrest, investigate and pronounce judgement and to execute with impunity; in short, they were a God–like power, answerable only to the Bureau itself, for they were the caretakers of the laws. For the good of your own career and mortality, you never wanted to have to meet an Internal Administrator and here was one on Rachmel’s mission.
The voice of the Commander of Missions broke into her thoughts.
“Internal Administrator Andretta, 29: unmarried: length of service 10 years: family consists of one child female and mother. Andretta has accepted the conditions of this mission.” He paused for a moment before going on. “Do you have questions concerning this agent?”
Rachmel replied immediately, “Yes.”
Andretta disappeared from the screen and the Commander reappeared. He looked back at Rachmel from the screen, his eyes meeting hers and unwavering in their intensity as though he were trying to instil a silent message into her mind. For your own safety be very, very careful: think long and hard before you speak.
This was what he would like to have said to her but knew he could not. Instead, he followed protocol and went on, “Please be aware that questions on serving personnel shall be monitored.” This was as far as he dare go with a warning.
The intimation was not lost on Rachmel but she was intrigued by the fact that a Ghost was to be part of the crew: there were only six of them so why the need for the inquisition/elimination squad? And what must the rest of her crew be wondering, knowing that they would be working alongside a legal assassin? What the hell would this do to morale?
“I have questions concerning this person.”
After a moment’s silence the Commander went on. “Questions please.”
“All members of this crew have been chosen and vetted by Missions Intelligence, is this correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do Missions deem it necessary to have on board a Bureau intelligence agent?”
“I am not in possession of the information requested at this time.”
Rachmel nodded, understanding that because this was a conference interview she would probably receive her answer at the private orders interview immediately following this one, as would, hopefully, the rest of the crew.
“Does this agent possess specialisation certificates relevant to the success of this mission?”
“Yes, she holds space flight certification and she is a qualified Biohibernation engineer.”
She didn’t feel comfortable about a Bureau assassin having control over something as crucial as the biohibernation units.
“But Miles is a qualified Biohiber engineer.”
“It has been decided that because of the nature and uncertainty of some aspects of this mission, having two engineers on board would be prudent, leaving Miles free to observe the main drive systems.”
Rachmel realised that her question was not going to be answered until the private briefing.
“No further questions.”
As though collecting his thoughts the Commander looked down at his desk for a moment and then looked back to the screen.
“Thank you, Leading Officer, your private interview will begin shortly.”
The globe screen went blank and then disappeared back into the desk. Rachmel was puzzled, for everyone should now be receiving their personal orders.
Leaning back into the seat she waited: but not for long.
The doorcom broke the silence. “Entry is requested.”
“Who?” Asked Rachmel.
There was a pause; she knew that the doorcom was now asking her visitor for the customary hand I.D check, but the reply, when it came, stunned her.
“Internal Administrator Andretta requests permission to enter.”
The ghost, here? She was supposed to be awaiting her orders as they all were: what was going on? Was she here to arrest someone? Obviously, this was not going to be an ordinary run-of-the-mill mission and she needed some answers.
“Access granted.”
Rachmel turned to face the door as it slid silently open: Andretta stepped through and waited for the door to close whisper-like behind her.
“Thank you Leading Officer” She offered.
The two regarded each other for only a few moments, but absorbed an astounding amount of information as only women can.
Rachmel gestured to the desk. “Please take a seat.”
Andretta walked across the room and sat at the desk opposite to Rachmel, but not wishing to engage in false pleasantries Rachmel spoke first. “I must ask you to be brief; I am awaiting my personal orders, as you should be.”
Andretta’s thin smile did not reach her eyes. “Your personal orders are here.”
Rachmel met the woman’s stare coolly in the hope that her confusion would not be apparent.
“This is highly irregular” she replied, “I take my orders directly from Missions Command and so far as I am aware the Internal Administration Bureau is not part of the Command Service: to all intent and purpose you are a civilian.”
Andretta nodded slowly and then spoke. “Accommodation central system please.”
The computer replied immediately. “Engaged.”
“Voice recognition procedure.”
“Input.”
“Internal Administration: Andretta: code one nine four five.”
After a wait of three seconds which seemed a lot longer to Rachmel, the computer replied “Internal Administrator Andretta voice recognition verified: request please.”
“Leading Engineering Officer Rachmels’ quarters; communication closure until I re-request.”
The computer replied almost immediately. “Complied.”
To Rachmel, she said “Everything that is said here at this time is for your input only. I feel there are questions, please ask them now before I begin.”
Rachmel thought for a moment and then asked “When someone has to die do you refer to them in your report as having been administrated?”
Andretta didn’t even think about her reply, with gaze steady and unblinking she replied “Yes; however I have never personally administrated anyone in that respect … yet.”
After a few moments she went on, “In two days time we shall leave the space station for a rendezvous point that will take us exactly twenty-eight days to reach; this point is the entrance to a Wormhole into which the earlier unmanned probes entered and where we shall also be entering.
It is known that alien species have used this device to enter our system: it is also known that these aliens have connections with some people on Earth: my task is to seek out these people and to learn all that I can about them.” There was silence as the two women regarded each other.
Finally, Rachmel asked “Are you seriously asking me to believe that beings from another World or Worlds have been utilising a worm hole to visit our little planet?”
“I am not asking you to believe anything Leading Officer; I am revealing information to you in relation to my presence on this mission.”
“So, are you suggesting that the reason you are here is because you believe there are people on this mission who could, in some way, be communicating with aliens?”
“Yes.”
“Then why haven’t you arrested them? They could jeopardise this whole project.”
Andretta leaned forward and rested her arms on the desk top.
“To date, they have not endangered anyone and they may be of benefit to us at some time in the future. I am not here to apprehend, merely to observe and record. This is all the information you will be given at this time concerning these people, for they are my responsibility alone. And now to your personal orders.
INTERVENTION Page 2
