The Alpha Choice

by M. D. Hall

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t, if you don’t mind. His involvement at Gallsor is meant to be a secret, as you said. I know I won't be favoured by my birth, but that won't stop some people from jumping to the wrong conclusions. I appreciate that you’ll do what you think is right, but I would prefer be seen for what I am. Any mention of who I am makes that harder.’

  Darl pursed his lips. ‘Very well, they’ll probably have worked it out on their own, but I won't draw attention to it,’ he raised his cup as though sealing the promise. Then, realising he had strayed from his story, got back on point. ‘At the same time as your father’s offer, I was given the chance of my own command.’

  Gorn raised his eyebrows.

  ‘No, it wasn’t Eclipse,’ a laugh exploded from his commander, ‘it was an exploration mission which, if successful, would lead to better things, the sweepers! It didn’t work out too badly. Six years ago I was given Eclipse; the commander took early retirement, and I was in the right place at the right time!’

  Gorn wanted to return to the area where Darl was less comfortable. ‘But once you took command of Eclipse, you commanded the flagship in two great victories.’

  Any other day Darl would be happy to bathe in the hero worship he was now experiencing, but something swept that away, whether the drink, or the fact that the young man opposite was the son of one of the few truly battle hardened officers in the fleet, he would not withhold the truth. ‘Let’s say that not all battles are as difficult as Gallsor,’ he answered.

  ‘But my father’s squadron lost a ship, with both hands. You never lost a single member of your crew.’

  Darl was beginning to show signs of exasperation, his answer was as much to himself as to his young, expectant audience. ‘It would be difficult to lose crew members on my ship, unless they walked out of the airlock,’ he looked, once again, at the cup in his hand, as his torpor returned. It could only have lasted seconds, but seemed like minutes.

  Gorn knew this was as much as he would get, but it was enough. Wanting Narol to be wrong, was a forlorn hope. From the little he knew of Darl, it was as close as the man would come, to a confession. He expected to feel anger over the horrors perpetrated by his commander, and others like him in the name of the Te, but this was not a case of a few rotten apples, the whole barrel was decayed. Neither anger, nor any other emotion would help him now. He had a decision to make and needed to be dispassionate, would he follow through?

  Analysing the situation, he started with the premise that the Te’an hierarchy were the monsters Narol portrayed them to be. If he, possessed of the knowledge he had accumulated over the last few days, did nothing, there was an argument that he was little better than the monsters. He knew there were gaping flaws to his logic, nothing was ever quite that simple, and he also knew he was giving himself a final nudge.

  He was certain his people were better than their leaders, Narol was right about that. If he chose to go ahead and succeeded in frustrating the Tellurian plan, they would have the opportunity to prove themselves. This did not, of course, deal with Narol’s final scenario when there would be no opportunity, ever. Much though he wanted to disagree with her, his aunt was right about one thing, ultimately, the lives of every Te’an could not be set against uncounted lives, stretching into the future. He would just have to see to it that the first scenario came to pass.

  Mind made up, just as his father had anticipated, he would do what was necessary to prevent the forthcoming conquest. His people needed a new start, perhaps this would herald the beginning of that start.

  Darl shook himself out of his reverie, and continued with some small talk, avoiding war stories, and studiously not asking after Gorn’s father. He could be forgiven for thinking he had given little away. How was he to know that Narol had made his half comments, full of meaning? How could he possibly have known what effect those comments would have upon the future of the Te?

  Now that Gorn was satisfied he was doing the right thing, it was time for an announcement. ‘I will take part in the zagball match.’

  Darl's reaction was enthusiastic, bordering on ecstatic, and certainly had a sobering effect. ‘My boy, you can't know how happy that makes me. What made you change your mind?’

  ‘I thought it was appropriate that the new science officer should be seen to support his commander.’

  ‘Well, you certainly choose your moments,’ his host beamed and, waving away Gorn's protestations, filled both their cups.

  ‘To beating Fleet!’

  Gorn raised his cup. ‘To beating Fleet!’

  The two soon made their farewells, promising to meet up again before the match. Gorn stepped out into the cool night and took his first steps towards a danger neither he, nor the man he had just left, could possibly comprehend.

  Ω

  Despite his precautions, the intoxicants of the previous night must have had some effect, as he woke late the following morning at the home of his friends. Wandering into the garden he saw the back of someone sitting at the breakfast table. Rounding the table, he sat down, poured himself a drink from the pitcher and began to eat, all the while saying nothing to the figure, directly opposite. When he could remain silent no longer, he looked up and took in the grinning face of Genir. ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding, I tried. You were dead, and not only to this world. What were you doing last night?’

  ‘I was with my…our new commander, he drinks some vile concoction and insisted I try it. Did you know he drinks intoxicants?’

  Gorn did not think it was possible for his friend’s grin to grow even wider, he was wrong. ‘I’d heard, but never been invited to partake.’ Genir shrugged. ‘What was the occasion?’

  ‘I told him I didn’t want to be on the zagball team, and he isn’t one to take no for an answer.’

  ‘You not play zagball? Now I’ve heard everything!’ Genir then paused, the grin vanishing. ‘Sorry, we haven’t spoken since…’

  ‘My choice had nothing to do with that, well maybe indirectly. Since we last spoke, have your mum or dad said anything to you about me?’

  Genir shook his head. ‘They’ve said nothing. Why, has something else happened?’

  ‘You could say that,’ he then proceeded to tell his friend about Zaran’s revelation, being careful to leave out any hint of what he was told by his mother and Narol, or even the existence of his aunt.

  By the time Gorn had finished, Genir was reflective. After a few moments he spoke. ‘I didn’t see that one coming. I can see why zagball would be the last thing on your mind. I suppose playing would remind you of Zaran, I mean your dad, and if you’re angry with him, you’ll not want to do anything that gets you thinking about him.’

  ‘It’s not like that. I understand why the two of them kept it from me, it was just…being in a cuboid didn’t seem important anymore.’

  Genir nodded, but it was clear, he did not understand. Gorn shook his head. ‘I’m glad you’re back, you always help me put things into perspective, and it’s only right you’re the first person I tell…we’re playing together against Fleet!’

  Ω

  A match like this did not simply happen, nothing so anticipated ever simply happened. The feelings of most people approached fever pitch. Few, outside the service knew of Gorn, but in the run up to a game of this magnitude – there had never been a contest between a single ship and the cream of the entire Navy – interest in the players became intense. Soon, the academy exploits of the young officer were on everyone’s lips.

  As expected, the media interviewed Bakir and his half brothers, who had clearly agreed a stock response along the lines: they were immensely proud, and would not miss the match for anything. Gorn made a point of not watching any of the interviews.

  Zagball was an opportunity for civilians who lived a life of privilege, by personally risking nothing, to enjoy danger vicariously. Danger was a concept not readily understood within the civilian population. Even those who chose to migrate to oth
er star systems were not true pioneers. The out-worlds had been made safe, not merely habitable, invested with all that the emigres had left behind. In reality, they were only changing scenery, and so it was understandable why the military were revered. Their zagball matches permitted the two hundred and forty-thousand, within the stadium and every other Te’an citizen, on whichever planet they lived, to participate in the excitement and thrill of combat, albeit within the antiseptic confines of the cuboid.

  The match would be a contest of skill, where scoring was the ultimate objective, but skill alone was not the only element. Incapacitating opponents was not only permitted but expected, so much so that it was generally believed the game would not have gained its popularity but for the violence.

  While defensor shields were routinely employed by shock troops - STs - in the course of their military service, no such protection was permitted within the cuboid. Some padding was allowed, to lessen the severity of more serious injuries, but even that was minimal. Keepers were the exception who, in order to survive blows from a deflector propelled zagball, had to have special protective clothing.

  When Gorn considered the blood lust accompanying a match, the question did briefly flash across his mind, if they knew what I know, would they really object? He shuddered at the possible answer.

  Despite his strength and speed, he avoided the violent element of the game. Genir was the one the crowds at the Academy loved to see incapacitate an opponent. Ordinarily, a player not employing aggressive tactics did not last long in the cuboid, he was often knocked out, literally. Gorn was the exception to this rule. He was unique in his ability to predict the ricochet effect of the deflector emitters. His shots were viewed with awed silence, followed almost inevitably, by tumultuous cheering. It also did no harm to his reputation that while he did not preempt violence, he never came off worst when an opponent tried to muscle him.

  Between the two friends, there was an understanding bordering on the telepathic, in the ability of each to anticipate the moves of the other, and for these reasons the pairing of Gorn and Genir had been incredibly effective, and popular within the Academy.

  As the day of the match approached, it occupied the thoughts and conversations of almost two and a half billion Te’ans on fifteen worlds scattered over six hundred light years in the Orion Cygnus limb. The contest would be beamed out at particle speed, while viewing would not be instant, the greatest delay would be twelve minutes. Particle speed utilised a sector of the Weft open only to objects of subatomic size and, therefore, ideally suited to certain wavelengths. The particle sector was much faster than full weft space, which meant that most happenings within the Te’an Empire could be known, almost within real time.

  The stadium, when not in use, was situated below ground. Anti-grav devices raised its component parts four hundred and fifty metres into the air. To any passerby, when viewed in situ, the stadium would appear as a green ellipsoid over fifteen hundred metres long, no one could quite remember why it was green. When elevated, it consisted of one hundred and twenty rows of seats; all rows facing the cuboid and stacked vertically at three metre intervals. A row contained a single line of seats, each a metre and a half wide, when peripheral equipment was taken into account. Every seat was sonically, and visually isolated from its immediate neighbours, unless the occupants chose otherwise. While a seat oriented itself, automatically tracking the direction of play, it also permitted more physical aspects of enthusiasm by applying a restrictor field, forward of the standing area. When spectators indulged in an overactive display of emotion, including leaping up and punching the air, and found themselves lurching forward, they were held within the perimeter of their immediate seating area, until they recovered their composure, and were returned to the seat.

  As with all spectators, in all sports, they desired to see both the whole field of play, and close up detail. Those who were fortunate enough to be randomly chosen as live spectators, together with the commanders of each naval ship in dock, and the entire Council would have, in front of them, a hologram depicting a close up of the action. They could zoom in to ‘off ball’ action, random acts of violence, or strategic placements, while at all times having the actual game unfolding before their own, unaided eyes.

  For those needing to leave their seats, to avail themselves of the public amenities, their seat would retract into the walkway behind the row, and the game would be automatically recorded for playback on their return.

  The cuboid was split into three vertical levels, measuring two hundred and forty metres long, by one hundred and twenty metres wide, and ninety metres deep. To the spectator, the levels were shaded in different colours, from the top: green, red, and blue, while the teams played in opposing colours of black and white. Each level had twenty deflector emitters, together with field projectors for the goal grids; all of the equipment was anti-grav, and programmed to its relative position within the cuboid.

  The goals, each measuring three metres wide by two metres deep, were centred at either end of every level, and took the form of sensor grids, guarded by their own keepers. These six players were particularly vulnerable, as no substitutions were allowed in the course of a match. Needless to say, a team spent a great deal of energy trying to incapacitate opposing keepers, while keeping their own safe. Neither Gorn, nor more surprisingly, Genir subscribed to this approach. No explanation was considered necessary from Gorn, while Genir, when asked by teammates, simply replied, ‘if someone gets in my way it’s their problem, but taking a keeper out makes the goal too easy,’ he would then smile and say, ‘it takes all the fun out of the game!’ His audience, who would be listening intently until that point, promptly ignored him by doing all they could to wreck their opponents’ defence.

  Every ship of the line had the facility, in one of the larger hangar decks, to erect a fully sized and equipped practice cuboid. It differed from the real thing only by having no provision for spectators; great secrecy accompanied all practice sessions, and so there was no need, or desire for observers.

  Ω

  The day of the practice session had arrived, and with only a skeleton crew in place on Eclipse, it was relatively easy to disguise the arrival of the team. The media had made several attempts to gain access to the practice area, and on two occasions even managed to smuggle recording equipment in the form of innocuous looking transport boxes. Whatever security arrangements were made, the media seemed one step ahead, yet once the last security sweep had been made, Darl stationed a ring of security personnel outside the arena.

  Hearing that Gorn hated teleport travel, he arranged to have his two key players travel, by small shuttle, separately from their teammates. He feared that knowledge of Gorn’s phobia, which in reality was just a preference not to teleport, might give his team a psychological disadvantage. In reality, everyone, on both teams, knew of Gorn's dislike of teleportation, so there was no secret to keep.

  Ω

  Gorn had yet to meet most of the ship’s zagball team which, but for Genir and the bridge tactical officer, Zan, was composed entirely of shock troops - STs. Many zagball players at the Academy entered the Shock Troop Corps. They were brutal and quick in the cuboid, and as a general rule, believed that every problem could be solved by violence. Notoriously difficult to control, it was also thought by many, but not openly voiced, that the popularity of zagball was encouraged by the Council in an effort to keep them in check.

  The soon-to-be STs gave Gorn a wide berth at the Academy, he was not one of them and could not be frightened, or intimidated. They were incapable of understanding him, he was an enigma, a born warrior with strength and abilities far beyond theirs, who chose not to join them.

  Now, he was about to join with them, after a fashion.

  Gorn and Genir kitted up, and shortly afterwards entered the hangar deck. There, thirty metres above them, it needed to be no higher when there were no spectators, was the cuboid with their thirteen teammates hovering inside.

  All eyes were on Gorn, wh
ich neither excited nor worried him, he was used to attention when playing zagball. His father used to tell him, when he was still Zaran the coach, ‘If their attention concerns you the solution is simple, play badly, they’ll soon look elsewhere. If you can't bring yourself to play badly, learn to live with the attention.’

  They set their anti-grav suits to automatic, and rose up to join the rest of the team. In this mode, the suits were linked to the wearer’s brain and were guided by thought. The speed of the suits was set to match the natural speed of the wearer so that no unfair advantage was gained by artificial enhancement.

  Gorn had looked through the team’s personnel files and discovered that, other than being several years older than him, the twelve STs had seen active service under Darl on sweeper duty, which meant they all knew what lay behind the Council’s carefully constructed mask. Only two men in the cuboid were ignorant of the truth: Genir, and Zan, a hand’s width taller than Gorn, and equally broad. A brilliant tactical mind, he had written several, persuasive theses, all of which Gorn had read. He joined Eclipse at the same time as Darl, and knew nothing of the dark secret of the sweepers.

  As Gorn approached the tactical officer the taller man simply smiled, before moving off to take up position in the defensive midfield.

  The remaining team members were typical of the STs Gorn had met, no better and no worse. They had the look of quiet, dangerous men who would rather be anywhere other than this practice hanger - all of them were fully aware of what lay ahead. Until now the only team to come close to beating Eclipse was Silver Fish, and three of their best players were on the Fleet team. A number of other teams had put up a good fight before being soundly beaten, and each of them could probably boast at least two, possibly three outstanding players. Before today, Gorn had worked out how many such players the fleet could muster, and the total came to twenty-seven! This number brought home the enormity of the task that lay before them. The fleet would choose fifteen of the best, from the best, and set them against Eclipse.