George’s mind is racing, “Unless somehow we, or others our size, are the template.”
Hayato interrupts the two men, his voice unusually quiet as he breaks their thoughts. “Come with me. You both should see this.”
The three men walk quietly through the ship, George and Radclyf’s curiosity mounting. Finally, when they are well away from the bridge Hayato speaks, his voice sounding crestfallen. “My men found something disturbing.”
George wonders what on Earth could disturb one of Hayato’s men. The three men continue to walk forward, all the way to the damaged section of the ship. Chokichi greets them with a curt nod, he stands before a bulkhead that blocks the corridor. As Hayato approaches he silently steps out of the way.
Hayato stops, then looks back at George. “We know what this part of this is used for now. Why it is the most heavily armored part of the ship, with all the extra bulkheads and armor.”
With that statement, he touches a wall panel. The bulkhead slides into the wall revealing a massive open area. Before them is the huge section of the ship that has been blasted away. The grey mist is held at bay by a shimmering shield, one that was not there earlier. The very nose of the ship is still intact and rests in the distance.
Hayato points at the shield. “My guess is that when we came aboard the shield powered up along with the rest of the ship’s systems. But that is not what I wanted you to see. Look over to the left.”
Radclyf’s eyes land on the object of Hayato’s interest and instantly understands the implications. “This is not war. This is genocide!” He states angrily.
George frowns as he tries to discern what it is he is looking at. The large egg sack before them is grey, as are the few others that seem to be intact.
“Oh my.” George says in shock. “The attackers didn’t care about the bridge. They only wanted to destroy the eggs.”
Hayato stares at the void, sorrow in his voice. “This was their hatchery. These are more than ships of war. There is something else I want you to see.” He turns and starts to walk away.
George’s eyes glaze over as he spots more grey eggs sacks, most broken, the eggs, the unborn were killed. Imagining a war where children are the target. He chokes back the tears that threaten to fall, as he says sadly, “Who could do such a thing?”
Hayato looks back over his shoulder, and with unexpected emotion replies, “Only someone with a lot of hate in their heart could do such an unconscionable thing.”
The men continue back the way they came, each silently contemplating the disturbing find. Hayato leads the other two up a stairway then along another corridor. Finally, after a fifteen minute trek, he stops and motions to an open area before him.
“I was in China when one of these was delivered.” Hayato states matter-of-factly.
George stares at the solid object before them. His eyes rove up and down as he tries to discern what he is looking at. It reaches up for three decks in height and is equally wide. Walking down its side, he reaches the far end after sixty paces. Walking around the entire object he finds what he is looking for. A single panel is open, with what look like cables snaking from it toward the nearby wall.
George smiles as he realizes what he is looking at. “This is a power plant.” He says in surprise.
Hayato is still gazing at it as he replies. “The one that was delivered to China was reported to be providing one quarter of their nation’s power needs, and my men have found five of these so far.”
“I have no idea how much power that is.” George replies, “I do know that the Terran is supposed to have four of these installed.”
Radclyf whistles in amazement then states the obvious. “Tell me we can take these with us.”
George shakes his head. “Even if we could cut away the hull and disconnect them from the power grid, we have no way of getting them up to the ship. If we did somehow get them on board they would have to be installed on the main hangar deck.”
George stares at the solution to their ever-present power shortages on the Terran racking his brain for ideas. Finally, he shakes his head in disappointment. The three men head back to the hangar deck where the buzz of activity continues.
Joe has been waiting for George and is most excited when he spots him. “George,” he hollers across the expanse, catching his attention. “I want to check out the engines, but need your help.”
“Sure thing,” George replies as he walks toward Joe.
Hayato takes the opportunity to quietly discuss another of his observations with Radclyf. Next, the pair convinces John to take a shuttle and fly them slowly around the front of damaged spacecraft.
Hayato’s keen eyes search the forward hull section looking for the oddity that caught his attention earlier. “There!” Hayato almost shouts as he points at a raised section of hull.
John swings the shuttle around so they are nose to nose, directly in front of the skyward pointing section. Radclyf whistles as he points out parts of hull plating that can only be protective covers. From this angle, there can be no mistaking them for what they are, weapons pods.
Radclyf counts those in view. “One huge pod and nine smaller ones?”
Hayato nods in agreement. While they are counting, John notices another anomaly, and motions to yet another part of the ship. “What the heck is that?”
John pilots the shuttle up and over the nose section to get a closer look at the small protrusion from the hull. As they get closer they can see that the object is by no means small at all. Indeed, it is thicker than the shuttle, and much longer.
John frowns a little as he tries to make out what he is looking at. “It almost looks like an antenna, except it’s pointing forward.”
After a few minutes scrutiny, they continue on, exploring more of the outer hull, finding more weapons pods and antennas. John makes one more pass over the nose section that points to a sky it can never reach again.
Radclyf gives Hayato a knowing nod, then says to John politely. “You can take us back inside now, thank you.”
John does as instructed, then makes his way to the bridge. The two combat veterans make their way briskly to the upper most level where they begin searching earnestly. It takes them a while, but they persist until they finally discover what they are looking for. The large room before them houses the interior portion of an antenna. The ceiling mount looks like a massive swivel while the base area is connected to the ship’s power grid by a pair of large flexible cables. Moving on, they continue searching until they find the second weapon system. Whereas the first looks like an antenna, this one resembles the outside of medieval cannon, but one that is also connected to the power grid by a single flexible cable. The dull grey cylinder also appears to have a ceiling mount that can swivel. After a lengthy discussion, they reluctantly agree that they just do not have the means to remove the weapons, let alone to install them on the Terran.
During this time, George accompanies the console he removed from the derelict, back to their ship. Then he returns with the small alien hand-held unit. Using his suit, he and Joe are able to access the first of the three areas containing the ship’s huge main engines. George grins as his hand-held unit activates. His grin fades as the engine drive status is displayed. Even though George is in his suit Joe can see his shoulders sag.
“What is it?” Joe asks, even though he is sure he knows the answer.
George taps his unit over and over before responding with a sigh. “The drive is inoperable, that’s all this thing tells me.”
The pair check the other two main engines, and get the same results.
Joe gazes down the main drive’s long shaft with its massive coil system that surrounds it. “I wonder what happened.”
George’s heads shoots up suddenly as he recalls an earlier conversation. “Logs, you mentioned looking for log entries. Let’s go to the bridge.”
The pair hurries to the bridge where they find Cindy seated in the command chair, tapping on its armrest consoles. George connects to
one of the central consoles then proceeds to hunt down anything he can that resembles a recording. His jaw immediately drops at his discovery, and if it were not for the suit’s automatic stabilizers he would have fallen over.
“Oh my!” George exclaims as alien words are translated by his ear piece. His eyes go wide as he searches for a way to get the others to listen. “GUS,” he says out loud, making no sense to those around him.
George copies a few recordings, then just before he disconnects, he has an idea. Searching back through the extensive data base, he eventually finds the first recording ever made. With building excitement, he copies the message without even listening to it.
“I think GUS can manage the translation.” George says while meeting blank stares. “The ship’s logs!” He continues.
Cindy tilts her head in surprise. “Oh, I have to hear this, let’s go.”
“There is no need to go anywhere,” George replies. “This should be quick.”
Even though everyone is getting tired from the long day, they all wait patiently for George to return with the translated recordings. By the time he is ready, the derelict’s bridge is brimming with curious crew members. From the computer technicians that processed the data, to the members of Radclyf’s and Hayato’s teams, and a number of others besides. With exaggerated flair George motions for Cindy to touch a symbol on her armrest panel.
The view of the planet is suddenly replaced by an alien face. The creature’s mottled green skin and long snout full of sharp teeth dominate the entire window. Those close to sight step back. Its yellow eyes with their vertical iris seem to stare at everyone on the bridge while its head turns left and right. If the view were not frightening, the alien’s tiny droopy ears would look comical by comparison.
The image stutters a little at first, then sounds rush out from the speakers. “Regent Gordok, my life is yours.” The image zooms out a little as the Gamin lifts his chin, then raises its left arm into the air. Its three claws clench onto a fist then pump the air with force.
The image swings around to reveal a massive area teaming with Gamin, hundreds upon hundreds, each with a clenched fist held high. “Prime Zorkna, my life is yours.” The recording fades away leaving those on the bridge speechless.
George breaks the silence with an excited voice. “We know from the timepiece we found that that the Gamin have a bit over a twenty-six hour day, with two hundred and ninety five days being one of their years.” He pauses to take a breath, even he cannot believe what he is about to say. “Adjusting to Earth’s time,” he gulps, “This recording was made over six thousand years ago.”
Cindy stares dumfounded at the command chair she occupies, her mind reeling over the age of the recording.
George continues on unperturbed, he received his shock when he listened to them all while working with the computer technicians. He is still a little stunned, but more so by what he knows comes next. “This recording was taken some fifty years ago, Earth time.”
The screen is suddenly filled with another alien face, the skin a darker shade of green, the teeth not so sharp. The figure rests in the very chair now holding Cindy. “Though I have failed my crew, we have not failed our Regent. We shall yet prevail through these dark times. With the loss of my ship, I am no longer Prime. My last act is to deny our mortal enemy the satisfaction of finding any of us.” The image zooms closer and closer until the aliens grinning face fills the view completely. It cuts out suddenly, switching back to display the planet once more.
George quickly speaks up before anyone else can jump in. “Please keep in mind that the translation may have been a little off. I could not find anything that recorded the actual battle, nor anything about their enemy.”
Cindy gulps as she tries to fathom what this means to them. She touches the chair gingerly as the significance of the videos sink in. This ship is six thousand years old. “Was that the same alien? And do we know what happened to the crew?”
George nods his head as he replies, “Yes, that was the same Prime, but as for the crew, it looks like they escaped.”
“They live for that long?” Cindy unintentionally says out loud, her voice full of surprise.
The room full of people have been quiet, or speaking in hushed whispers. This gradually turns into a buzz of voices which threaten to overwhelm Cindy and George.
Speaking up over the hubbub, Cindy asks another question. “Are there more recordings?”
“There are numerous recordings, I just thought the first and last would give us some insight.” George replies.
“Well I think you are right, those two recordings certainly did that, well done.” Cindy states as she puts a hand to her forehead, and rubs at the threatening headache. Well there is no need to carbon date the plating anymore. She frowns a little as many thoughts come to mind at once. Perhaps we should anyway, to test our methods. She continues to ponder as her eyes wander around the room, not really seeing.
The crowd starts to drift off as it is obvious the show is over. A quiet muttering follows the group as each of them shares their thoughts on the day’s events. Cindy and her command crew return to the Terran.
Stepping onto the bridge, Cindy’s gaze falls on the console that they brought up from the damaged ship. She turns to George and asks. “I wonder what we will learn from that unit.”
George follows her gaze, grins, and then says, “Well, let’s find out.”
Cindy has been considering many ideas, but one recurring thought is bothering her. She relays her orders. “I want to get some distance between us and this planet. Bring all the teams back, and get us out of here as soon as you can.”
Her command crew is a little perplexed at the unexpected nervousness coming through her voice. While George and Joe work to install the console, the rest of the bridge crew gets organized. It takes them less than an hour to get underway. With sub-light engines pushing them away from the system, Cindy can only wonder what happened to the crew of the damaged ship. Andrew plots a course, which he gives to John. He does not even wait for Cindy’s usual order, but engages the main drive as soon as he has the telemetry. The view once again turns from the bland white dots to the mesmerizing cascade of colors.
John turns back to look at Cindy as he announces calmly. “Accelerating to factor five.”
Cindy settles back into her chair, for some reason the planet with the derelict was making her nervous. She does not know why; however she has learned through the years to act and not wait when her senses tell her something does not add up.
Feeling very tired, Cindy notices that George and Joe are still hard at work. “Why don’t you two take a rest, we can live without that thing being installed for another day.”
George looks at Joe and can see that the man is obviously worn out. Though he feels perfectly fine, he also heads to his quarters. While the main crew rests, the Terran continues on its way.
Cindy wakes to the chirping of the intercom system. Once again, she is woken up by an exuberant crew member. Sitting up now, she finds the voice hard to discern and the speaker does not identify themselves. While listening, she runs her fingers through her long blonde hair, becoming aware of its extra length.
Finally getting a gist of what they are rambling about, Cindy interrupts the caller. “All right, give me a few.” She is about to say a number of choice words but notices the time, and instead says. “I will come to the mess hall.”
Frowning at the clock in disbelief, Cindy is stunned to see that she has slept a solid eleven hours. A warm shower refreshes her, the rest having provided much needed rejuvenation.
Arriving at the mess hall, Cindy is greeting by a sheer mob of people cheering. A large group form a circle around something. Whatever is going on, people seem to be betting on it as money changes hands quite frequently. As people notice Cindy they move just enough to allow her to enter. Her jaw drops, there in the midst of the throng is Peter, Radclyf, Hayato, and the human sized suit that they found. She shakes her head as she can
see what is happening. A young crew man walks up to the Gamin bodysuit then with a show of bravado he steps back into it just as George does. The suit closes around the man, then the helmet swings down. The man is fully enclosed, but only for a few seconds. The suit suddenly opens up, the man almost jumps out of it. He falls to the floor and starts heaving into a nearby bucket. The crowd cheers as money changes hands.
Peter holds up a small container then with his other hand pulls out a slip of paper. “Patrick”
At hearing his name Patrick looks up, in surprise. “There must be some mistake, I didn’t add my name.”
The crowd starts to chant. “Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.”
Cindy is about to intercede but decides to wait and watch instead.
Reluctantly, Patrick stands up, then noticing Jeremiah’s mischievous expression, swings a playful fist in his direction. Shaking his head, he walks to the alien suit, he knows there is no getting out of this. Facing the cheering crowd, he steps backward into the suit. It immediately starts to close around him. Finding where his feet and hands are supposed to go is easy enough. The suit continues to close around his legs and chest making a snug fit as it entombs him. The helmet swings down, its visor is down, and appears cloudy. The split second the helmet contacts his head, an unexpected kaleidoscope of colors appears before his eyes. The colors are out of focus and shift around in an unsettling fashion, making him a little nauseous. Mere seconds later, the colors come into focus, as soon as they do so, he feels a lot better. Strange symbols scroll up and down the visor. Looking through the visor it rapidly goes from opaque to clear. He can see the crowd of people just staring back at him. I am not sick, he realizes. How do I open the visor? No sooner does he have the thought, than the visor swings up into the helmet. In his excitement, he literally jumps for joy. The suit launches him into the ceiling where his helmet clangs loudly. He lands clumsily on the floor, then looks sheepishly at those around him. Squinting at Jeremiah, he cannot quite discern what he sees. Immediately the visor swings down, the view zooms in, showing the man collecting money, a lot of money. The suit somehow translates my thoughts and just does what I think. WOW!
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 48
