Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  As the reporters drone on, Radclyf turns to his team, “Opinions, anyone?”

  “Surely they can't be done here?” Henry asks, as he watches the repeating scenes of the mighty spacecraft closing its ramp and taking off.

  “What did they do here? A few seminars on medical knowledge?” Paul questions in disbelief.

  “I would like to have gone to one of those.” Says Henry; disappointed that the opportunity was denied to him.

  Radclyf understands his disappointment. “Don't you still have a copy of the data from the French computer system we found?”

  Henry sags his shoulders a little. “No, this time I really did follow orders. I handed everything over to the courier. We have nothing here to connect us with the raid.”

  Radclyf raises both of his eyebrows as he turns to Peter. “Peter, do you have any information?” He asks in a matter of fact tone, expecting him to have some idea. He always seems to have something.

  “No, I do not, though I expect our time here is done. Hopefully, we will get to work together again.” Peter is also genuinely surprised by the news of the spaceship leaving.

  “Okay, I want everyone to get some rest; we must be prepared for whatever comes next.” Radclyf stats. He has no idea what will be in store for them.

  Sure enough, that night Radclyf receives new orders. It seems that Peter is to stay with the team after all. Taking the four vans, the team packs all they have and departs in earnest. Peter looks out the side window of Radclyf's van as they make their way through the quiet Parisian city streets.

  Laying prone on a nearby rooftop a solitary figure, dressed in black from head to foot, studies the convoy. Through his sniper rifle’s scope, he can clearly make out Peter’s face as he tracks his target. He waits and watches for the right moment. Once the observer receives Peter’s message, he packs up his gear, and clears away all traces of his presence, then he too, leaves Paris. Radclyf looks across at Peter, who appears to be asleep against the van’s side window. He tries to figure out what to think of this man. He does not trust him yet, but he can sense the potential.

  Location:

  Outback

  Western Australia

  During World War Two, the allies were able to build a new merchant transport ship every week in a single dry dock. They had numerous dry docks, allowing a never-ending flow of ships to be built and launched. With the Gamin having access to virtually an entire world’s resources, and nothing to slow them down, they are able to add to their fleet very quickly.

  The Gamin shuttle comes in low over the Australian desert. Its single occupant is very focused on the task ahead. Entering through the lower ramp, the shuttle lands smoothly. The ramp closes, allowing the landing area to be pressurized. Protective armor plates move away efficiently, revealing one hundred fifty Gamin standing in formation inside the spacious hold of this newly built spacecraft. The shuttle’s occupant stands and adjusts his attire.

  Wearing the flowing cape associated with the rank of 'Prime', Sharz steps out of the shuttle. He looks at his crew all dressed in the uniforms denoting their respective departments. This full-dress reception is for him; he is being properly honored, in their old ways.

  Looking over his crew with pride, Sharz delivers his first speech as their leader. “I have personally selected each and every one of you. We are a small crew compared to some, but we will make our Regent proud. We must complete this new addition to the fleet quickly.”

  Sharz lifts his chin, raises his left hand in the air, and then clenches it into a fist. “Regent Voknor, my life is yours!” Sharz shouts his pledge loudly, and he means it.

  As one, the Gamin before him lift their chins and raise their left hands. They then clench their raised hands into fists; Sharz is pleased as they deafen him with their words, “Prime Sharz, my life is yours.”

  Thus, in the way of the Gamin, allegiance is sworn to their immediate commander, as has been done for countless generations.

  Lowering his hand, Sharz looks over his crew as he continues. “Get us off this planet and into space where we belong.”

  Sharz makes his way to the bridge area and finds the raised central chair most welcoming. Finally, his own command awaits him; he has dreamed of this day for years. His spacecraft measures almost one mile at its widest, and just over two miles long. It rests inside the cradle of the massive construction dock. The many arms of the dock retract, and internal systems direct power toward the spacecraft’s gravity systems. Internal gravity progressively engages, as life support systems purge the last of the local atmosphere. Dust stirs under the mighty spacecraft as landing struts retract up and into the hull. Slowly but surely, the hovering craft lifts itself up and out of the construction dock. Once fully clear the spacecraft quickly accelerates away, leaving the ground behind.

  Sharz watches his bridge crew as his ship enters space for the first time. “You have done well. We have little time to complete the rest of the installation.”

  As soon as the spacecraft departs, the construction dock’s upper workings close, allowing the construction of yet another spacecraft to begin. The stockpile diminishes as the days roll by. Suited Gamin work feverishly as they build, using everything available to them.

  Location:

  Amazon River, near Afua

  Brazil

  The mighty spacecraft has been resting, straddling the world's mightiest river, collecting water for so long it has become a part of the very landscape it dominates. The initial shock of the craft’s arrival has long since passed for the villagers. Children fearlessly fish and swim among the landing struts, though they stay clear of the four central pylons that water flows through. The local fishermen have adapted, and have found great new spots to fish in the swirling currents created within the shadows of the mighty vessel.

  Suddenly a hum starts from deep inside the spacecraft. Birds roosting on the spacecraft’s upper hull squawk and then take flight. Nearby animals quickly scurry and flee from the strange sounds. The fishermen take their gear and start to put some distance between themselves and the noisy spacecraft. The four massive sections through which the mighty river has flowed, now lift out of the water. Weeds and debris from the river hang from these sections for a time before falling back into the water. Solid clunks resound as the four sections come to rest flush against the hull.

  The humming sound increases in intensity as a shimmer appears along the underside of the spacecraft. Slowly, it lifts its bulk out of the water. As it does the landing struts start to retract. They, too, are covered with reeds, which eventually fall back into the Amazon. As the mighty vessel banks away on a slight angle, those watching are able to once again see the massive rent in the spacecraft’s hull. The damage extends a long way across its forequarters; it is as if something had been trying to carve the spacecraft in two.

  As the spacecraft leaves the area, some of the inhabitants’ wave, as is customary when bidding farewell to a visitor. With the craft a mere speck in the sky, and its hum no longer audible, the locals turn their attention back to the tasks associated with village life. Birds return here and there, but many seem confused as their nesting places have disappeared.

  Stories of the ship’s arrival and departure enter into village lore as another chapter to be remembered and handed down to future generations.

  Location:

  Beijing International Airport

  China

  The flow of trucks headed to the spacecraft at the airport drops to zero quite suddenly. One minute there is a line of trucks, and the next, there are none. As the last of the pigs, cows, and chickens are loaded aboard, the pens that had been placed for these animals are removed by bodysuit-wearing figures. It is not long before the main ramp leading into this mighty craft closes. Unexpectedly, a deeply resonating hum starts to emanate from the spacecraft. The craft then departs as carefully as it landed. The landing struts leave only subtle depressions in the hardened concrete of the airport’s runways.

  News of the depa
rting spacecraft reaches Hayato shortly before his orders to return to Germany. With little ado, the four men quickly secure their belongings into the two utility vans. Within an hour, the safe house has all signs of their presence removed, and the team is well on their way out of Beijing.

  As they begin the long trek back to Germany, Hayato continues to ponder recent events. The Chinese government must have known the Gamin vessel was leaving; how else could they have coordinated the cessation of all those trucks? China also boasts a new power plant, but again, what did they do to earn that? He also tries to piece together what North Korea had to do with all this. China is clearly assisting in the Korean unification, but to what end? So many questions, and then what about America and Russia, with the two even larger craft occupying their cities?

  The two vans continue the long and arduous trip back to Germany, hoping to be unhindered by border guards or mechanical breakdowns. The trip will take them a few days at best. The four men are looking forward to a relaxing hot shower and a good night's sleep in a safe, warm bed.

  Location:

  Manhattan Island

  New York

  The news of the spacecraft leaving Paris, Brazil, and then China reaches the people of New York quickly. Many look to Manhattan and wonder if that ship is leaving as well. These last few days have seen a massive increase in rail shipments of ore. These large stockpiles are gone now, leaving only traces of rock and dust in their place.

  George and Lisa are woken up by their very excited son, Johnny. “Mom, Dad! Quick! Come look at the wall screen.” He is almost on their bed as he shakes them awake. “Hurry, before you miss it! Hurry up!”

  “Okay. Son, okay. We’re getting up.” George rubs sleep from his eyes as they reluctantly get up to see what the fuss is all about.

  Johnny is staring at the screen on the wall. “Look!” He says as he points excitedly.

  Before them is the now-familiar banner showing the off-green colored face of a Gamin inside a multicolored circle. In the past, this has signified an upcoming speech. They are not disappointed.

  Minutes later, familiar drum beats start, and then a repeat of the same fateful words that were heard when the Gamin first arrived. “Be prepared to receive the words of Regent Voknor of the Gamin.”

  These words were first spoken in what seems like a lifetime ago. George cannot believe how much has happened in a few short weeks. He has not spoken to Sharz since the terrorist attack either, which up to this moment, had not bothered him. The explosion in New York occurred only days ago, but feels as though it were much longer than that. While George muses, the wall screen switches to the now familiar scene of the Regent's bridge, complete with Earth in the background.

  Regent Voknor has his back to Earth as he gazes into the camera with his eerie yellow eyes. “We will be departing soon, but expect us to return at any time. The satellites will stay in place and continue to provide communications for your citizens. This satellite grid is not to be interfered with.”

  With these few words, the screen returns to the cartoon channel that Johnny had been watching earlier.

  Even through the walls of their residence, George can feel vibrations from somewhere outside. The Stanton family throw on some light clothing, and then heads outside to investigate. Stepping out into the morning light, they are just in time to see the mighty spacecraft that had made Manhattan its home, rising into the air. George looks across at the empty rail interchange. It dawns on him that someone knew they were leaving. Sometime during the night, the ore trains must have stopped running.

  The three of them head back inside to find an attractive newswoman delivering a bulletin showing the massive craft departing the New York area. Another scene is of the one leaving St. Petersburg in Russia. She then shows various video clips of smaller craft leaving Paris and China. A photo, showing another in the Amazon River pops up as she continues her telecast. As a final epitaph, this photo is replaced by one showing the river without the spacecraft, adding as much dramatization as possible.

  “May you have many offspring, George.” The voice surprises him, he had totally forgotten about the earpiece.

  Though unsure Sharz can hear him, he still quietly replies. “You too, Sharz.” Involuntarily, he touches his ear, its tiny translator is comfortably lodged in place.

  Lisa glances across at George, but says nothing; he often mumbles to himself, she realizes. “Let's go and get some breakfast, while we can,” she says. Lisa wants her family well fed while the mess hall is still there for them. With the aliens leaving, she doubts that it will continue to be supplied by the government.

  Once properly dressed, the three of them head to the massive mess area. There they meet up with many others, who, just like them, are wondering what will happen next. George is surprised to see over one hundred people eating this morning. He never got to work with more than twenty or so at one time. Some people near the door get up and start pointing at a commotion outside. Those inside have their curiosity sated quickly enough, however.

  An older military man steps confidently inside the doorway. His chest is adorned with all kinds of emblems. He gazes around the mess hall with a practiced authority. “My name is General Walker. I am here for two reasons. First, to protect you from those that would harm you. Second, to take you all to a secure location for debriefing on your experiences with the aliens. Transport busses will be arriving in thirty minutes. Gather your belongings and wait inside your buildings.”

  George looks across at his wife and smiles. He now knows with absolute certainty that the government knew when the Gamin were leaving. The three of them head back to their quarters. It does not take them long to get ready. With the Gamin providing uniforms, they have added very few items to the clothes they were wearing that fateful day at the Statue of Liberty.

  Though George and Lisa are a little nervous, Johnny is treating this as though it were some great big adventure. “I wonder where we are going.” He asks with the innocence of the little boy he is.

  George looks down at his son and smiles at his excitement. “I don't know, son.”

  They do not have to wait long before there is a knock on their door. George opens it up to a young soldier. The soldier looks down at his clipboard, and runs his fingers down the list. “Mr. and Mrs. Stanton? And you have a young boy as well, Johnny?”

  “That would be us.” Replies George.

  “Please follow me.” The soldier turns and leads them outside to a waiting bus, one of many.

  “Johnny, hold your mother’s hand and do not let go.” George is not too worried about them getting separated, the boarding process seems very efficient. There appears to be many more soldiers, than people actually being escorted. Perhaps they are concerned about people running off.

  The buses themselves are all large touring buses with blackened windows. George looks toward the city as he and his family obediently get on board. Large military helicopters fly over, and sirens can be heard seemingly everywhere. The great city of New York seems to be in chaos, once again. Each bus has seats for only fifty people, but has plenty of room for luggage. Even before their bus is full, it pulls away, only to stop again a few moments later. Soldiers get onboard and occupy the remaining seats, including the window seat next to George. The soldiers vigilantly look out through the one-way windows with powerful rifles in hand.

  George looks across the aisle at his wife and son. He stretches his hand out to his wife's as she gazes out the window nervously. She glances back at him, and he sends her a smile, which he hopes is comforting.

  Once the buses move out, they are flanked by an armada of military escorts. Hummers lead and follow as they speed nonstop through the busy city streets. Police and military vehicles block every side road making sure this convoy moves on unhindered. Once clear of the city, and on the interstate, instead of slowing down, the vehicles pick up even more speed. Wherever they are going, the government intends to get them there fast. Running at more than one hundred miles per
hour, the convoy races down the freeway. The only stops that are made are at temporary military posts, where people can stretch and use portable restrooms while the vehicles are refueled.

  The next day is a blur for them all. They are taken all the way to Colorado and into Cheyenne Mountain. Once again, NORAD is home to a group of civilians. Entering the facility, George wonders if they are really being kept from harm, or just being kept.

  It does not take long before people are singling George out as the spokesperson for them. Most people do this simply to avoid any focus on their own activities with the visitors.

  “So, you’re George.” The investigator states bluntly as he rifles through some papers. The man seems more like an interrogator.

  George looks at the battery of cameras which are aimed at him. “Yes, I am George Stanton.” He sighs and adds, “You had to know that; you brought me here!” He is getting quite annoyed with the stupidity of the situation.

  “How is it exactly, that you came into contact with these aliens?” The interrogator is sitting on the other side of the small metallic table, reading from a checklist. He seems to have a long list of questions. He settles in and makes himself comfortable. He has a pen in hand that he occasionally makes a note with, or just sticks in his mouth.

  Oh boy, this is going to take a while. George thinks. He catches a glimpse of the many pages in the man's folder, sighs inwardly, and then replies. “I came into contact with them when my neighborhood was destroyed and I had nowhere to go. The government was not offering any assistance, however the Gamin did; they provided shelter.”