Cindy frowns and asks, “How does this system even know our language?”
“The ship we destroyed must have scanned our database and transferred the information to this one.” George replies as he shrugs his shoulders. Before anyone can respond he quickly adds, “But that’s not what’s amazing.” He steps up to the console in front of Joe and touches a symbol with the words, ‘Scan Mode’, below it.
The forward view changes to that of a local star map. A bright dot pulses in the middle of the screen. George turns to Joe and says, “I think that dot is the Terran’s main drive.”
Frowning Joe responds, “It can’t be. The main drive is off.”
“Is it?” George asks while he gives Joe a questioning look, “Or is it on standby?” He adds while raising his eyebrows.
“There is one way to find out,” Joe replies confidently.
Peter interrupts them and says, “Hang on Joe, before you do that, can that map be enlarged?”
Joe stares at the console, then smiles as he expands the map to around fifty light years. No new dots appear on the map.
George nods slightly at Joe’s work and says, “From what I have learned, this scanner is specifically designed to detect engines like ours, Gamin engines.”
“Now that’s disturbing,” Joe replies. He shakes his head in bewilderment, “Another race that’s hunting the Gamin.”
“Another race?” Robert queries, suddenly catching Joe’s words. Today has been full of surprises.
“Yes, the Atlan’s.” George replies.
“Oh,” Robert replies as he recalls reading reports about the interstellar conflict.
George muses, “Sharz told me a little of their long-standing war with the Atlans.” It’s an unusual war,” With a troubled brow he continues, “hundreds of years can pass without hostilities. Then bam, an Atlan ship meets a Gamin ship, and immediately attacks.”
Cindy raises her eyebrows and stares at George in mild surprise, “Do you have anything else you would like to share that we may not know? ‘Cause that’s a biggie,” she states as she stares at him sternly.
George shrugs his shoulders and says, “I figured you all knew that by now, I mean the Gamin fleet was pretty banged up when it arrived at Earth.”
Robert tilts his head in curiosity and asks, “What else can you tell us about the war itself?”
“The Atlans shoot first, and ask...” His words fade as he stops midway through the usual rhetoric. Instead he finishes with, “actually, that’s all they do, attack. There is no communication.”
“You know,” Cindy says with trepidation as she recalls their last trek into this region of space, “we were shot at after we collided with that space station.”
Joe nods his head and adds, “Yeah, and while we’re on the subject of the Kord, they were pretty keen for us to leave.” He lifts his eyebrows and adds, “And we were not invited back either.”
Robert’s jaw drops as he stares wide eyed at the bridge crew. He stammers, “None of you told me any of this.” He stares up at the console with its flashing dot and adds, “It’s more dangerous out here than I thought.”
Joe nods his head in agreement, “Yeah, Regent Voknor pretty much told us the same thing.”
George thinks back to the many conversations he had with Sharz, then with a slight frown asks, “You do know of the Atlan Prophecies? Right?”
Everyone stops and stares at George, then waits for him to continue.
George stares back and says with a skeptical sigh, “C’mon, I know some of you have heard of the Prophecies.”
Cindy glances from person to person, then says, “I think we’re curious about what you know.”
George takes a deep breath, and replies, “Roughly every thousand years, the Atlan clerics make public one of twelve prophecies. According to Sharz, each one usually reveals some new technology. In some cases, it has taken the Atlans hundreds of years to implement these new discoveries.” He glances at the others then continues, “The last prophecy provided the Atlans with a new space-carrier, one that can single handedly challenge an entire Gamin fleet. Prior to this, the Gamin were holding their own in most battles, though they would still usually retreat.”
“But if this war has been going on for thousands of years,” Robert counters, “why don’t the Gamin just find somewhere else to live?” He shrugs his shoulders, and adds, “I mean, the Galaxy is huge, right?”
“They have tried,” George responds, “they have been retreating further and further, which is how they found us.” He sighs, “The Atlans want to wipe the Gamin out.”
Robert feels pangs of sympathy as he queries, “Genocide?”
George nods then adds, “To make matters worse, the twelfth and final prophecy will be revealed soon, which is why the Atlans have been more aggressive than usual.” George lowers his head in sadness as he adds, “And Sharz thinks that this one will be the end of them.”
Robert gulps, “And here we are flying around in a Gamin ship!”
Cindy replies with conviction, “Which is all the more reason for us to get to the derelict soon, acquire as much technology from it we can, and get home.”
Joe rubs his chin then adds his thoughts, “We know the Navicon unit acts as a beacon to other Gamin ships. I wonder why these raiders haven’t just stolen one of those?”
George turns his head to Cindy and smiles a little sheepishly, “Because the Gamin consoles are usually set to self-destruct if they are not connected to a Gamin ship.”
Cindy shakes her head and says, “And when were you going to share that tidbit with us George?”
With a shrug of his shoulders, George replies, “It’s not really that important. We are in a Gamin ship after all.”
John can feel the tension building, so he steps closer to one of the front facing chairs and changes the subject by asking, “When can I take her for a spin?”
“Hold on,” Cindy replies, “I think we should take this one step at a time.”
“Agreed,” George says, and then adds. “We need to make sure that we can power the ship up safely. I have also yet to determine how fast the main drive is, and I have no idea what damage its weapon systems can do.”
“Weapons?” Cindy retorts in surprise.
“Oh yes,” George responds with delight, “This little ship has it all. Powerful shields, tons of thrusters, and even directional sub-light engine ports, for space combat maneuvers, I would guess.”
Cindy glances around and then says, “Well, it has seats for sixteen passengers, and two pilots, all in one area. There is no cargo space, so where do they sleep?”
“Oh, this is an awesome feature. Let me show you.” George says excitedly. He steps out of his suit, walks over to one of the built-in chairs, and sits in it. “Watch this,” George says as he presses a previously unobserved control.
They all watch as the central portion of the chair seems to slide down the wall, becoming a bed. At the same time a clear plastic-like covering envelopes George. He gives a thumbs-up and his voice is clearly heard as he states, “These units have their own life support systems.” He presses the same control, and the bed reverses its process to become a chair once more.
Cindy stares at the cockpit and says, “What about the pilots?”
George shrugs his shoulders and says, “My best guess is that two of the seats are for the pilots, unless I have missed something, which is why we need more time before anyone goes on any joyrides.” He ends his comments while staring directly at John.
Cindy paces the area between the rows of chairs for a few minutes, and then finally says, “Okay. Joe, John, and George, you will stay here with Radclyf and Hayato’s men. I want everything in this cave investigated and inventoried. If it is safe, load it on the Terran, and that includes this ship...” She pauses, gazes around, and then says, “if it fits through the hangar entryway, that is.” She nods to George, “The military engineers can repair the Terran with your assistance, when you can spare the time. Peter an
d Patrick will go to Emma’s site and assist.”
Everyone nods their heads in agreement, the plan is a good one. The talks continue through the night, and into the early hours of the morning as they discuss many of the finer points. The three ear pieces, which were recovered from the deceased aliens, have fallen down. They now lay on the floor, down between the pilot’s chair and the side wall of the captured ship, forgotten for the time being.
The group finally disperses to get some much-needed rest. Robert smiles at Cindy as she departs, and nods his head in appreciation of his free hand to report on whatever he feels is the most important. He grins a little as he has already decided to relegate the more mundane tasks to the reporters that have accompanied them.
Cindy sleeps fitfully as she ponders what to do about those who died. As the one in charge of the ship, it is her duty to decide whether to keep the bodies in their morgue’s freezers, or to come up with an alternative. She wakes up, fully alert, and then relaxes. She knows what to do.
With Joe’s help, Cindy finds the right place to bury their dead. A small, uninhabited island which rests in the midst of a huge ocean. The island is sparsely covered in vegetation, and is small enough that the chances of it even being used by the Oglans are slim.
Later that afternoon, the bulk of the crew is assembled in the Terran’s hangar deck. Those that do not stand on the main floor, line the many levels that surround the hangar, and respectfully wait. Thirty-two coffins occupy an area near the ship’s ramp. Each one has a white sheet draped over it. The bridge crew all stands solemnly near the caskets.
Cindy lifts up a microphone, one that is connected to the ship’s speakers, and begins. “Today we bury our dead.” She lifts her gaze to those above and having gained everyone’s undivided attention, continues. “Their sacrifices have allowed us to survive an attack by a determined and powerful force. Space is full of dangers we could never hope to imagine, but then that has been the price explorers have paid throughout our history.” Cindy casts her gaze around once more, “And I will remind you all that we are explorers, and thanks to these brave individuals, we can continue to explore.” She takes a deep breath then finishes her speech, “We honor those who have fallen.”
The bridge crew slowly and carefully carries the first coffin into a transport shuttle. They take their time, and load all thirty-two coffins with reverence. Though Cindy is saddened by the brief service, she is a hardened individual. She glances across at Emma, then Suzanne, and almost envies their free-flowing tears. She knows she must remain strong, for all their sakes.
Cindy boards the shuttle with John, Joe, George, and Patrick. John flies the craft in silence. In fact, no one speaks until they land on the island Cindy and Joe had located earlier. They all exit the shuttle, then wait.
Cindy stands on a small rocky outcrop and addresses the small group. “I think they would have liked to be buried here. Most of those who died had no allegiance to any one country, and as for the three members of Emma’s team, well, what better place to be laid to rest than on the planet they were to study.”
Joe smiles, then says, “Dog’s time with us was short, but he has left a lasting impression.”
The others nod in agreement, and then begin the task of unloading the coffins. George and Patrick use their suits to dig thirty-two individual grave sites, then after the coffins are lowered, they craft a monument which covers the entire site. The task takes them quite a few hours, but no one complains, nor hurries.
Finally, they are all done. John stands back with Cindy and admires their handiwork. The large dome covered rotunda has thirty-two pillars, each of which is deeply etched with the name of one of the deceased. The interior consists of a rock floor with a grave marker for each person. Gazing upward from inside reveals more engravings, the twelve signs of the zodiac, as seen from Earth.
Joe walks around the entire structure, then with a deep sigh, says sadly, “This is amazing, and I am certain they would have approved.”
Cindy does not give the crew any time to wallow in grief. The following day she makes sure that everyone returns to the tasks they were assigned.
Emma’s Team
Emma stares blankly at her new, state of the art computer pad, then tosses it onto her bunk in frustration. She storms out of her tent in a huff, then places her hands on her hips and stares at her surroundings. Her team of more than three hundred has managed to erect a staggering number of tents. Her eyes rove the once open field in amazement. They had brought almost five hundred of them, in various sizes. Most have space for two occupants, while some are massive and designated to be utilized as research centers.
A few simple wooden structures rest in the distance. These temporary buildings have been erected as far from the Oglan town as is possible, while still being close enough to the tent city to be practical. The soft hum of diesel generators emanates from these structures, and fills the air with their muffled resonance. The sounds of construction still echo through the air as teams continue to assemble more wooden buildings.
Emma’s frustration wanes as her thoughts drift to the shower and bathroom facilities that have yet to be upgraded. Walking amongst the tents, she notices that in high traffic areas, the low grass has already been worn down to reveal the ground. She makes a mental note to get these areas covered with either wood or gravel. She frowns at the cables that snake their way along the ground, and adds the construction of poles to her growing list.
Emma pauses outside one particularly large tent, takes a deep breath, and then strides inside. The tent has a covered floor, and is large enough to house the research team’s computer hub. There is table space along the walls for at least twenty workstations. Three computer technicians mill around the dozens of large computers which rest on elevated platforms. This entire facility was Suzanne’s idea, but it did not take long for Emma to whole heartedly agree with her plans.
Suzanne notices she has a visitor and steps out from behind one of the mainframe computers. “Emma, how are you?” She asks casually, even though she is pretty sure this is not a social visit.
Emma states bluntly, “That new laptop you gave me doesn’t work!”
“Let me look at it,” Suzanne responds automatically.
Emma sighs, “It’s in my tent. I want my old one back, at least I knew how to use it.”
“Your old one?” Suzanne queries.
“Yes. You guys took it while I was on Earth.” Emma scowls.
“Ah, I didn’t take it from you,” Suzanne replies slowly.
Emma shakes her head in annoyance and says, “You computer people.”
Suzanne sighs. She has heard this line before. With a smile, she says, “How about you take me to your tent, and we can look at your tablet?”
Emma says indignantly, “The new one doesn’t even have a lid, or a proper keyboard.”
Suzanne stops in her tracks as she tries to figure out what Emma means, then suddenly she understands. “You had an old laptop, didn’t you?” She asks.
“Yes, and I had owned it for years.” Emma states with pride.
Suzanne smiles and says, “I will show you how your tablet works, and I assure you, once you get familiar with it, you will love it.”
“Okay,” Emma replies, accepting the offered help, “but I liked my old laptop too.”
The two women casually chat as they walk toward Emma’s tent. Suzanne cannot help but smile as Emma gushes about Peter, which draws her thoughts to Joe. She thinks he has a crush on her, but is not sure. Besides, she has no feelings toward him at all, but still, some of the men on the ship are quite appealing. Emma’s chatter about Peter causes Suzanne’s thoughts to drift farther and farther away from her computer work. Arriving at Emma’s tent brings them both back to the task at hand.
Emma picks up the tablet from her bed and hands it to Suzanne. Within seconds the unit is up and running. Suzanne patiently instructs Emma on some of its many functions.
Suzanne is about to leave when Emma says in ex
asperation, “I can’t find any of my old files.”
“I would guess they were not transferred across.” Suzanne replies, then seeing Emma’s pained expression, quickly explains. “This technology is rather different than what you had, and it’s quite possible your old data was incompatible.”
Emma holds the tablet up and suddenly grins excitedly, “Hey, I can take pictures with this thing!”
Suzanne smiles back, “You can shoot videos as well.”
Emma’s jaw drops, “Oh wow, if only I had this when I was on New Earth. I could have recorded so much more!”
“Let me show you everything it can do,” Suzanne offers as she sits back down.
“Please do,” Emma replies excitedly, her old laptop all but forgotten.
After about an hour, Emma is getting more comfortable with her new tablet computer. The women decide to grab a snack, and begin walking amongst the numerous tents once more. They enjoy each other’s company, and spend the rest of the day together, chatting.
Community
Patrick tries not to stare at Jux, or the other Oglans, as he travels with the salvage team toward the overgrown and ancient city. The group of eight bounces along the rough track in the back of an army truck. He had not expected Jux to accept the ride. But once the Oglan saw how large the truck was in comparison to their wagons, he immediately accepted.
Patrick lowers the visor on his suit and studies the locals as discretely as he can. He cannot help but think that their hairless features and pale skin make them look like albinos with alopecia. Their large almost colorless eyes, and the skin flaps where a nose and ears are expected, marks them as distinctly alien.
Whereas the trek would ordinarily take a salvage team much of the day, the truck rumbles toward the city at a decent pace, and arrives in a little over an hour. Patrick carefully steps down from the back, then watches as the Oglans jump down. The suit adds to Patrick’s height, yet they are still taller, another slightly unnerving element. He watches as the locals gather some basic tools, which they plan to use to strip down anything they can find in their quest for metal.
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 119
