The Oceans of Mars
Page 28
Captain Creighton cleared his throat. “I would like to congratulate all those on this ship, but mainly those in this room for the safe journey that we have passaged. It could not have happened without the diligence of everyone seated around me.”
“Are all systems operational, captain?” Troubalene asked.
“They are within working parameters. We will have to repair several before taking off again. And the situation above?”
“It appears to be resolved for the time being. I believe Kekter is on his way. Just wanted to give you a fair warning.”
“Very well, everyone maintain positions until we hear from Kekter once more. Then I will allow you to be with your families.”
Patricia could feel the mood in the room elevate slightly at the mention of their families.
The screen came to life and Kekter appeared. He sat in his chair slumped down. “That was something. Before we realized you were under attack, myself and the other district leaders discussed your predicament. We have agreed to allow you to stay on a trial basis. If for any reason we deem your kind to be a harm to ours, we will not hesitate to banish you from this planet.”
Captain Creighton was still. “I understand. Thank you for the opportunity to prove our worth. I feel there is much we could learn from this endeavor.”
One of Kekter’s eyes twitched slightly. “On to new business. The beings that you just encountered will return. When returning from your aid, it was brought to our attention that you encompassed yourselves with a protective layer after a bit. Such a thing, that was so well impenetrable, has eluded us. Would you be able to teach us your technology?”
Captain Creighton nodded. “We will. We only have a few of the devices onboard at this moment, but we are able to build more. Those beings, what are they called?”
“The one you encountered was the leader of the seventh fleet, his name is Qarg. You should not have responded to his warning shots.”
“Shots? Generally there’s only one warning shot. We had no choice but to respond. Our ship cannot sustain much more damage.”
Kekter blinked long. “You will need to move your ship. Is that possible?”
Patricia couldn’t see the captain, but she knew he must have tensed slightly. She could see it on Troubalene’s face.
There was a slight pause. “We will be able to move given a little time for repairs. It has not held up well in the last part of our flight.”
“I just have a few more questions for you, then I will send my men to help with the repairs and provide you a new place to live. How is it that you were able sneak up on our defenses? We were unable to see you before you reached the net.”
“We hacked your systems and created a false image of our ship that allowed it to approach unseen.”
“I see.” Kekter did not sound happy at that. “Very well. One more. The first attempt you made to break through our net was met with failure, but your second attempt was a success. I must know how you were able accomplish that. We have spent years on a way to safely encompass our planet to prevent Qarg and the rest of his Neglarian friends from entering our home. What you did is prove to him that it is possible to defeat our defenses. You’ve created vulnerability.”
Patricia tried hard not to scoff at that.
“And we can correct what we’ve done if given the chance.”
“I will send men to help with the repairs.” Then Kekter disappeared.
“Well,” the captain said. “You are all dismissed. Enjoy the time you have with your families for tomorrow we build a new life, a new home.”
Wallis and Philon sat at a table with Zalta leaning against the wall. They smiled at one another and gave curt nods as each spoke.
“We really should be coming up with a finalized list. Remember, this ship will not hold nearly the same amount the last did,” Zalta said, slightly irritated.
“Thank you,” Philon said. “But it won’t need to either. This journey should take them a bit less time and prove to be far safer. We just need to reach them first.”
“Have they finished the ansible or not?” Zalta was not confident that even if they had finished the device that it would work properly.
“They have,” Wallis said. “But testing it out will be a different story. We need to do a trial run as soon as possible and definitely before we finalize the lists. If they never made it, sending a backup crew isn’t going to do much good.”
“Then do it already.”
“I can set up a meeting this afternoon,” Philon said. “I’ll gather Peter and Santin as well. They’ll want to see this in action.”
Zalta threw her hands up. “Good, glad we got that straightened out. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get home for a quick bite to eat before we have this meeting. Make it early afternoon. We don’t want to wait too long.” Zalta left the room, her hands in her pockets, but didn’t head toward her house in Capena once she was outside. She was determined to get back to the hangar, to her baby.
The ship was pristine from its wings to its tail to the inside. It was designed to hold a hundred people, no more. And it only had enough commodities for a few months of travel. But the majority of the journey would be isolated in suspended animation chambers. They’d be suspended and frozen in time until it was necessary to wake them up.
She ran her fingers along the outside, feeling every nook and cranny with her fingers. It was smooth, sleek, and beautiful. She laid down under the ship, staring up at the nose.
It had probably been a few hours, maybe less, when Zalta heard someone else walk into the hangar.
“The meeting is in five minutes if you’re still interested in coming,” Wallis said. “Though I wonder if you would rather stay here and be alone with your ship still. It seems the two of you are having a romantic moment.”
Zalta stood up and stormed over to Wallis. She gave him a good push. “Shut up. Let’s go.”
The meeting didn’t start until the moment they walked through the door. Zalta took her seat in the back of the room, leaning as far back in the chair as she possibly could.
“Now that we are all here,” Philon said. “I believe we can get started. The device has been activated to show exactly where they went. We’re hoping that when we call to them, that this will communicate with the planet.”
“Can it be picked up by the aliens living there?” Zalta asked.
“No,” Philon said. “We’ve chosen a frequency that only our people would be able to receive.”
Zalta folded her arms. That probably wasn’t accurate and she knew it.
“Well then, let us begin.” Philon began to mess with the bright red box that was in the center of the table that they sat around. “I think just a few more adjustments and…” The bright red box faded into a purple. It glowed, making the walls dance in purple light. “There. That ought to do it. And now we wait.”
Zalta stared at the box for several minutes, waiting for something to change. “How long do you think this will take?”
Philon shrugged. “Could take minutes, hours or even days. We’re not sure how long the signal will take to reach its destination or how many obstacles it will encounter along the way. It seems improbable that it may make it at all.”
Wallis cleared his throat. “My techs are the best and the brightest there are.” He gave a smile to Zalta who just rolled her eyes. “If they said it can communicate that far, it will work.”
“Then we wait until it does,” Philon said. He sat down at the opposite end of the table with hands clasped before him.
Zalta threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a long afternoon. Then she heard the soft wisp of a voice. She looked at the device, noticing the looks of shock on all the other faces in the room. Someone was responding.
“Hello?” a voice asked timidly through the device. That was a good sign. They’d made it.
“This is Philon, leader of Capena. Is this the crew of the Last Hope?”
&n
bsp; They waited in silence, hopeful that maybe it would work, that someone would answer. Then a voice called back. “Yes, this is the leader of the current crew, the survivors who landed on Nakima.”
Relief, they had landed. They were safe.
“Is there a war?”
There was silence on the other end for a minute or two. “The war is fought constantly, but we’ll survive. We bring hope to the battle and a possible end to the war.”
“Do you need any supplies?”
“We have what we need.” There was a loud noise that echoed through the device, reverberating off their walls. “I have to go.” The line went silent.
As they all sat back, Wallis took a deep breath. “That wasn’t Captain Creighton.”
Zalta nodded in agreement. The group had a new leader, a much younger one from what she could hear. “So, do we send the next group or not?”
“We do,” Philon said without hesitation. “And that list just got a bit easier to narrow down.”
“Do you think we should really do this? That looks a bit dangerous,” Gerald said as he leaned over the chair looking out the window behind Luna.
She frowned. “If you have a suggestion, by all means…”
Gerald bit his lip. “We’re going to die if we try to fly through that. They’ll kill us.”
“This was your brilliant idea. Now you don’t want to go.”
Gerald shook his head, gripping the chair tightly. “No, I want to go. I have to. But we can’t fly through a battlefield and expect to survive. We will die.”
“We will die if we stay out here. We’re almost out of fuel and food. Not to mention, our water supply is down to filtered piss water. So by all means, please fill me in on your plan for how we’re going to land safely without going through the midst of alien war ships.”
Gerald didn’t like it when Luna was angry, especially not at him. He threw his hands up. “Look, do what you want. You’re the captain.”
He walked away and sat down next to Wilk. “You two need some time apart. I’m tired of the two of you fighting all the time.”
“Believe me, I’m getting a little tired of it too. I feel like a little fresh air will do us good. But we can’t breathe fresh air if we’re all dead.” Gerald said the last bit under his breath so Luna couldn’t hear him.
“You should watch it. She might jettison you and you’re so close to getting your revenge.”
“This isn’t revenge,” Gerald said. “I’m here to warn them. They don’t know he’s coming. And if we ran into him first, then it would be our duties to end his life before he ended anyone else’s. This isn’t revenge.”
“You can call it whatever you want.” Wilk sighed. “This has been a horribly long trip and the return to Mars is going to be worse.”
“If we can make it back.” Gerald looked out the window. The battlefield was approaching. They were going to fly right through it. Their only advantage was size. The ship was smaller than most out there, but it wasn’t going to be enough. They were going to get hit. He knew it.
“Can’t we go around?” Wilk asked loudly.
“That’ll take too long. Our fuel is low. We either go through it or we die trying,” Luna said.
“I vote for the first one.”
“So do I.” Gerald held his breath.
The breeze was soft. The grass was bluish-green providing an odd warmth between his toes. The day wasn’t hot, which was good. He had grown accustomed to sweating far too much. As he watched silently, nibbling on some berries he’d found near the mountains base, a few ships flew high overhead. The battle was still raging beyond the net.
Beyond the clearing he could make out the small city they had built. There were houses and shops. Humans walked with the aliens unnaturally. As though they belonged together. At every turn she had displayed her ignorance of mankind and what they should properly be. He knew they were not meant to live on another planet. And he alone was going to fix that.
But she would be first. Her and her son and her husband. They deserved it. He watched in silence, dropping the rest of the berries back into his pocket as Patricia paid the vendor for some sort of little outfit for her son. From what he could tell, the boy was maybe five. It had always been difficult for him to accurately determine the age of minors.
John approached Patricia from behind and they hugged. They appeared to be happy. That simply wasn’t going to last, not if he had anything to do with it. Beasley smiled to himself. It was going to be easy.
About the Author
Tiffany Weems received her Bachelor’s of Science degree in Biology from Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne, and has three short stories published in the IPFW literary journal, Confluence. When not writing, Tiffany works in the retail business where most of the inspiration derives for her stories. Born in Beaver, Pennsylvania, she currently resides in Columbia City, Indiana.