Discovery (Terran Chronicles)

by Jackson, James

  Still, there is no response from the Aussies about their readiness for the upcoming data transmission. With the entire crew becoming increasingly restless, even mandatory training in the zero-g room fails to keep everyone busy enough. Finally Cindy contacts the launch site again.

  “Ground control, come in”

  “General Hayes of ground control receiving you.”

  “Ahh General. I take it your in charge now. Well, there are four dead I wish to bring home to their families, and since we have these shuttles we can ferry those that don’t belong here home as well. We will also need a new crew to pilot the space shuttle Atlanta.”

  The General seems perplexed by the last request. “Why do you need a flight crew for that old dinosaur? You have two Gamin shuttles!”

  “I like to be prepared for any and every contingency.” She states matter-of-factly.

  General Hayes has read her dossier and can recall those exact words being used to describe her. “Very well, anything else?” Not expecting an answer he is again surprised by her candor.

  “Yes. I have a list of stores and supplies needed for our mission.”

  “Very well.” He quite likes this woman’s style. When he first heard of her running the mission he had serious doubts, and voiced them. With building respect he asks, “when can we expect your arrival?”

  “Soon, Terran out.” Now. How to flush out our saboteur? She wonders, but workable ideas still fail to come to mind.

  General Hayes stares at the speaker for a moment, surprised at the abruptness of her goodbye.

  Cindy has thought long and hard about what to do, and has yet come up with a decent plan. Meanwhile Hayato and Radclyf have their own ideas, and they are quite different than anything Cindy has envisioned. Quietly the members of the elite combat teams spread out and cover vital areas of the ship. Chokichi covers the hangar deck from the upper most level. His sniper rifle at the ready. Those below oblivious to his presence as he scans the area and everyone in it quite meticulously.

  John and Cindy board the Gamin shuttle without incident. George remains on the Terran for the time being, along with everyone else.

  Location:

  Ground Control

  Outback

  Western Australia

  The return trip to the launch site is very quick, the shuttle quite responsive when compared to any of the American Space Shuttles. John pilots the alien craft with greater confidence at each passing moment. General Hayes is quite right, he thinks, our shuttles are dinosaurs in comparison. Old, sluggish, and now obsolete. John closes the outer viewports against the glare of the midday sun. He lands the alien shuttle near the main buildings, and with a little bump kicks up a cloud of dust. Their unannounced arrival causes quite a stir amongst nearby troops.

  The shuttle’s ramp drops down letting in the dry dusty air belonging to the Outback. The air almost sears their lungs in comparison to the thick heavy air the Gamin breathe. John and Cindy exit the shuttle then raise their hands immediately. They both look warily at the many weapons pointed their way.

  “Wait, wait, hold fire.” The voice comes from one of the soldiers. “Admiral, Captain, please come this way.”

  Slowly lowering their hands they then follow the young soldier who leads them into the main building. The meeting with General Hayes is very brief, but quite constructive. The three of them coming to a consensus very quickly.

  Just as they are about to leave Cindy spots a number of boxes in the room. She smiles as she recalls the contents. These are loaded aboard the alien shuttle.

  Not too long after John and Cindy have departed the General also leaves, but not before visiting some of the families belonging to the Terran’s crew.

  The alien shuttle makes the return flight effortlessly, quite impressing the two of them. Clearly they will be able to easily transport everything they need to. The General’s flight though, is aboard a conventional aircraft. While it takes John less than an hour to pilot them back to the Terran, it will take General Hayes a lot longer to complete his journey.

  Location:

  Starship Terran

  Earth’s Moon

  John lands the alien shuttle inside the Terran quite smoothly, as he has done many times before. The ramp opens letting in a swoosh of horrible alien air, something about this distracts him for a moment. Having the recent discussion with General Hayes fresh on his mind he refocuses. This is not the time to be sidetracked. Cindy also has a lot on her mind as she almost stumbles down the ramp, momentarily forgetting the heavier gravity.

  BANG !!!

  The shot rings out loudly. John freezes in the shuttle’s doorway, unsure of what to do. Cindy stops dead in her tracks. A man lays on the ground close to her, bleeding, coughing, clearly dying. His outstretched hand fumbling, but unable to reach the small gun resting nearby.

  “Get back in the shuttle,” echoes out a distant voice.

  John runs to Cindy who is paralyzed with fear. He drags her back into the shuttle, then shuts the ramp. Checking to see if she is injured, he is pleased to find that she is not. The seconds tick by, soon turning into minutes. Finally the shuttles intercom engages.

  Radclyf’s voice is even keeled “Hangar area secure, you guys can come out now. Peter will escort you to the bridge. I will explain when you get here.”

  John exits the shuttle first, looks around warily, then walks hurriedly toward Peter. Cindy’s eyes are very wide as she follows. For all the missions she has sent people on, and read about, this is the first time she has been this close to violence herself. The experience has shaken her to her core.

  Arriving at the bridge they find Radclyf in full combat regalia. Slung over his shoulder is a powerful rifle, two hand guns rest in open holsters, while knives occupy various other places on his body. Who knows what else rests in his many bulging pockets. Cindy is now quite agitated. Since when did this become a military operation?

  “What’s going on? I was not even gone for that long.” She drops in her chair, suddenly becoming aware that its back faces the entryway.

  Radclyf motions to Peter who simply nods back before speaking up.

  “Well, let’s just say that, thanks to you, we have flushed out an infiltrator.” He sits down clearly not offering any more details.

  Cindy looks around the bridge as his words sink in. “You used us. NO! You used ME, as bait.” Her eyes widen even more, her breath shortens as the realization that she could have been killed comes to mind.

  Peter comes over to her. “Cindy, you were never really in any danger, but...” He looks up at Radclyf before going on. “We think there are more on board, so we will be taking extra precautions for a while.”

  Meanwhile, Chokichi stealthily makes his way to the hangar floor. Even though the hangar is supposed to be empty, he waits cautiously for a time. Only when he is sure that it’s safe does he walk to the body. He carefully examines the man, then empties the victim’s pockets. Rolling up the sleeves on the man’s arms he finds what he is looking for. Using a small digital camera he takes a few pictures, then stands back. He studies the dead man one more time then drags him into the shuttle. Cleaning the blood off the deck with a bunch of rags and chemicals, he leaves no sign of the man’s passing. Tossing the rags inside the shuttle, he makes one more appraisal of the area, then quickly heads to the bridge.

  Chokichi arrives in time to see Cindy quietly smoldering, no one has provided her with an adequate answer. Radclyf reviews the images on the camera, the tattoo is unmistakable. He puts a hand to his mouth, he is staggered by the meaning of this. He gives Chokichi a long hard stare before speaking.

  Radclyf’s voice is quite firm. “You know what this means?”

  Chokichi’s reply is foreboding. “We have had our share of dealings with this cult.”

  Radclyf has never felt this apprehensive in all his life, no matter the mission. “Then they are here, on board somehow, somewhere.”

  Cindy is not used to being out of control, she stands and with
both hands on her hips glares at the three men. “Will someone give me a straight answer? Who is here?”

  Radclyf’s mouth twitches before he replies. “The worst doomsday cult ever to exist. ‘Malak’s Hand’, and they are here, on board this ship.”

  Peter blanches at the news. He has also heard of this cult. They live to see the world end and believe it’s their destiny to deliver us all into the afterlife.

  Cindy’s eyes open wide as her jaw slackens. “Oh my. You’re sure?” She quickly answers her own question. “Of course you are. I hope they don’t have any of that chemical.” Her eyes dart from Radclyf to Chokichi then to Peter searchingly.

  The others on the bridge do not know exactly what is going on, but whatever it is, it’s shaken the most seasoned of soldiers. This is more alarming than anything else being discussed behind them.

  Radclyf sighs. “Well, quite frankly, if they have,” he shrugs, “well, there is nothing we can do about it, is there?”

  Cindy sits down in her chair, and ponders this new development. Something is tugging at her mind, she has missed a crucial piece to this puzzle, she can feel it in her bones.

  With nothing more to be said, the soldiers leave. She can almost feel the answers to some of their problems, if only she could stop and think clearly. The clues are there, there is just too much going on.

  Later that evening Hayato’s team makes a routine enough flight to the lunar base. When they return the body is gone, buried on the surface, perhaps for all time.

  With nothing to do but wait for General Hayes to get back to them, Cindy decides to face her fears and head to the mess area that’s been set up for the crew. Peter walks with her, and though he chats nonchalantly, his eyes dart into each doorway they pass. Every darkened recess gets his total scrutiny, as he switches sides over and over, always putting himself in any potential harm’s way. The mess hall is eight decks down and holds over two hundred chairs around an assortment of tables. With a current compliment of one hundred seventy-six, she is not surprised to see around fifty people gathered in small pockets throughout the room.

  Peter quickly steps in front of Cindy, cutting her off, as he boldly steps into the room. His practiced gaze carefully examines those in the room. Once he is satisfied it is safe he steps to one side allowing Cindy through. The pair grab some packaged sandwiches and make their way to a table. Nearby a group of people are playing cards, looks like a poker style game. She nods to them as they glance her way, she can’t recall any of their names, and simply smiles in their direction.

  Peter has met them all, for they had reported to him as per Cindy’s request, seemingly so long ago. He also nods to each, then surprises them all as he calls them by name. “Patrick, Jeremiah, Richard, Ralph, Darren, how are you guys holding up?” Due to them being a part of the welding contract crew, he had assigned them to general maintenance duties. None of them were meant to be here, and for all of their American roughneck bravado, it’s obvious the situation is stressful to them.

  They break their game for a moment, surprised at the attention from the command crew. Patrick glances at his colleagues, then replies with confidence. “If you guys can fly straight, we can keep this brick in one piece.” He winks at the other players then adds while grinning, “I think y’all need a new pilot, that was one hell of a rough ride. I mean, c’mon. Who da hell does cartwheels in space?” His mischievous grin grows, smile lines crease his face all the way to his sparkling hazel colored eyes.

  Cindy stifles a smile, so that’s how they saw our take off from the lower decks. ‘Showboating’! He seems to be joking, but with his accent differing from George’s, she is not one hundred percent sure.

  Gazing around the room and relaxing she takes a deep breath, then coughs, the thick alien air being forgotten for a moment. She gags at it’s almost viscous thickness in her chest. Getting her breath back she stares at Peter, then drops her cup, spilling its contents. Standing up suddenly she interrupts the card game. “Oh my, I think…” The thought is disappearing fast. “I need to talk to George, NOW!”

  Peter has to hurry to catch up with Cindy who is almost running, even with the heavier gravity. Arriving at the bridge, she is quite out of breath, fortunately George is there, and wearing the body suit. I wonder if he sleeps in it. The thought comes unbidden and almost distracts her.

  “George,” she gasps between breaths. “The air,” she wheezes, “on the shuttles,” still out of breath she pants. “It changed when we opened the ramp!” They stare at each other for long seconds.

  George continues to stare at her as the meaning behind her words sinks in. He recalls his trips to the Regents ship with Sharz. Oh my, Sharz took in a deep breath on the orbiting ship, not in the shuttle. The same happened when the presidents were transported up. How could I have missed this, it was right in front of me this whole time.”

  Misunderstanding his silence she continues on. “C’mon, to the shuttle, John you…” George holds up a finger, politely, but none the less halts her midsentence. Turning back to the console he connects to it. The information he seeks is right there before him, no one thought to look. Disconnecting again he opens his visor fully, a smile beaming from ear to ear.

  “We can fix the air so easily, it’s actually absurd how simple the solution is.” He waves his arms around and starts to laugh a deep hearty laugh. “We could have been stuck breathing this, ‘stuff’ for a long time, had we left orbit.”

  The rest of the bridge crew give each other questioning glances. Even Peter is stumped this time, and awaits the explanation.

  George does not keep them waiting long. “I need to take this suit to Earth, get an air sample and come back. I will simply provide the life support system with the new sample, and it will replicate it.” He relishes the excuse to see Lisa and Johnny again.

  Cindy is dumfounded. “Why didn’t the system use our air as a standard to start with?”

  George’s smile somehow grows even more. “Because the sample that was originally provided is still there, as a base to work from. That’s the sample we need to replace.”

  She frowns a little. “Why don’t the shuttles do the same thing?”

  “Well, this is the absurd factor. To maintain whatever is in the shuttle requires minimal power. Besides, why purge air that is breathable?” Answering his own question he continues on. “Gamin efficiency, waste of resources to do that.” He gazes at the ceiling as he ponders aloud. “I bet there is a way to purge whatever is onboard and replace it with a standard atmosphere though. There must be a way. We will find out.” Realizing that he has been rambling George stops talking.

  Cindy is elated at the possibility of replacing the nasty alien air, and yet something is still niggling at her subconscious. Watching and listening to George brings something else to mind, something important, then it, whatever it was, fades away.

  An idea comes unbidden to Andrew. “So we can get any air sample, such as from a forest of eucalyptus trees?”

  George smiles at Andrew. “Yes, but I am not sure how many folks here would like your Aussie air.”

  “Well, I was just thinking.” Andrew is a little miffed at the dismissal. He probably wants air from New York City, ugh. He turns back to his console, then realizing he has nothing to do, just sits there and stares outside at the stars. With a puzzled expression growing on his face he looks back at his console, then back outside. Just as Joe had done earlier he finds something odd, but he too can’t put his finger on it, and unfortunately, just as Joe did earlier, he also keeps his thoughts to himself.

  Cindy considers running a random draw, but comes to a practical solution which ends the discussion. “We will obtain a sample of the cleanest air we can, and it will be our medics that decide where that comes from.”

  Most of the crew are bored as they can do nothing but wait for ground control to respond. Henry, however, is busy analyzing George’s blood sample plus the sample from inside the body suit. He will need better facilities to confirm his fi
ndings, but he learns enough to be very concerned. The sample from the suit though no longer hazardous, is an exact match for the swirling gasses obtained so long ago during the attack on the Kyoto subway. He does not understand how the nerve agent came to be neutralized, but is sure of one thing. Somewhere on this ship is a chemical powerful enough to wipe out all life on Earth, and all the fanatics need is for some way to get it into the upper atmosphere. He quietly reports his findings to Hayato, who in turn speaks with Radclyf. They debate options for some time, but keep all their ideas contained to the men in their teams.

  Transmit

  With little to do but wait, Cindy has the boxes from the meeting in the Outback carried to the bridge. With the entire bridge crew present, she opens the first one and holds up a grey long-sleeve jacket. The emblem that occupies the right hand side of the chest grabs everyone’s attention. The three clawed alien hand is clenched in an upward fist, circling this is a rendition of the Terran. The jacket has a number of open and zip up pockets. Another smaller box has a number of Velcro patches. These attach to the upper left arm of the jackets. Each of these shows an image of the Terran with rank being embroidered above in white lettering. She hands a jacket to each of the bridge crew. John attaches his ‘Captain’s’ patch to his jacket’s arm with a smile. Andrew, Joe, Peter, and George have badges that say ‘Commander’ which surprises them all. George frowns at his jacket, he finds that the suit is much easier to operate if he just wears a tee-shirt.

  “It was decided that you all had to have the rank of Commander should John or I be indisposed. You’re in charge, not anyone else. ”

  George puts his jacket down and asks the obvious question.